Mars Nation 2

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Mars Nation 2 Page 20

by Brandon Q Morris


  She looked up at the tower that stood high above her like the crown of a tree. Numerous cables, hoses, and chains hung down from it like vines. They all ended at the drill head. All these ‘vines’ were now her enemies that she would have to remove one by one. She started with the cables. Electrical cables, she quickly realized when she set the bolt cutter to the first one and saw sparks fly. In and of itself, she was in no real danger because the handles of the cutter were insulated. Instead, it could lead to short circuiting which would in turn paralyze the entire vehicle, much the same way a defective outlet could cut off all power in a whole household by tripping the main circuit breaker.

  It was something worth avoiding, but that wasn’t possible. With the bolt cutter, she snipped through the cables like a rabbit. If she happened to touch two different strands with the metal cutter, then a short was unavoidable. With a bit of luck, it would result in a short only in the drill pipe. Now that she had already severed one of the thick cables, she was left with three more—three chances at a lottery with an uncertain outcome.

  She was lucky. A pleasant turn of events for once. She had already seen herself trying to repair a burned-out circuit.

  Now to the hoses. They were made of a rubber-like material that remained elastic even at frigid temperatures—an efficient material, since otherwise the hoses would have broken apart. That would have been useful now, since she could have just snapped them off. But cutting through the elastic rubber of these hoses with the bolt cutter was no easy task. The material caused the cutter to slip, though with a little patience it was possible. At least her strength wouldn’t run out. Over and over again she set the cutter into place, squeezed it closed, and cut the rubber out, piece by piece.

  After ten minutes, she had cut through the first hose. The material ripped under its own weight after she had sliced through enough of the outer layer. By the second hose she had perfected her method. She imagined she was a beaver gnawing through a tree. This time, it only took her seven minutes before the next rip came. The third hose was a bit stronger. It was probably meant to hold a different liquid. Plus, it was equipped with a layer of wire mesh in the middle to allow it to be heated. The liquid it transported was probably intolerant to cold temperatures. Ewa had to put a good deal of effort into this hose, and a quarter of an hour later, she was still at it. Sweat ran down her face and into her eyes.

  She increased the amount of air in her suit. In response, the suit’s electronics signaled that the muscles in her hands were quickly losing energy. That’s all she needed! Was she supposed to start using the bolt cutter with her feet? She reduced the intensity so the suit would last longer, but it also meant that she would have to work harder.

  Ewa was intimidated most of all by the chain that the drill pipe was hanging from. It was made of top-notch steel. She would never be able to cut through it with only her own strength. Plus, she was still struggling with the last hose. She hacked into it as though it were a snake attacking her, until it finally pulled apart. She’d done it! Ewa watched the bottom end of it fall to the ground, but lost sight of the top end, which had stretched far beyond its original length before it finally ripped and snapped back like a whip, hitting her on her left side. Ewa cried out in pain! She had to hold on with her right hand since the bolt cutter was in her left. She couldn’t let go with either hand no matter how much pain she was in.

  Ewa held on. It took several minutes for the pain to subside. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. There was no question that she would get through this. She had eliminated nearly every obstacle so far. Only the chain was left.

  The chain... She studied its shape and girth. It’s a good chain, a real pity to have to destroy it. Then she realized her thoughts were wandering. She was no longer entirely herself. No surprise there, though. Once she got through this chain, she would have some time to rest. She desperately needed a break.

  Ewa carefully set the cutter in place and squeezed. The steel chain was not bothered in the least by her efforts. She didn’t even manage to cut a splinter from it. But she was confident that she would also prevail over the chain. She had to. There was no other alternative.

  A saw. There must be a hacksaw in the toolbox. Trying to squeeze through the chain’s steel with the bolt cutter was no good, but the strong, fine teeth of a hacksaw should get the job done. At the same time, it meant that she would need to leave her position on top of the drill head. It was about three meters to the ground. As there was no way to climb down, she’d have to jump. She hoped her suit would somehow soften the impact. Also, if she waited too long, she might find more reasons not to go through with it.

  Ewa jumped and elegantly rolled onto her less-immediately-painful right side. No problem! She climbed into the cab and looked through the toolbox for a saw. She found two, one wood saw and one hacksaw. What kind of idiot would send a wood saw to Mars? The hacksaw unfortunately wasn’t very big, its blade maybe twenty centimeters long. That meant it would be a hard and, above all, long job.

  Ewa climbed back down the ladder and repeated her Tarzan jump from before. In doing so, she had forgotten about the pain running down her left side. For the next few minutes, all she could do was hang on and gasp until it subsided again. She got to work. Incredibly, the hacksaw managed to nibble away at the chain bit by bit, but it was damned slow going. In ten minutes, she had sawed only one millimeter into the steel. After twenty minutes, she was two millimeters into it. She reached the third millimeter a half an hour after she had begun, at the exact moment her suit announced that the power reserves in her joints were now fully depleted.

  The links of the chain measured about 2.5 centimeters. That meant she had to repeat what she had accomplished up till now another seven times. And her suit wasn’t going to be of any help to her anymore. She needed another way.

  Ewa closed her eyes. The cool air inside her helmet slowly dried the humid mixture of sweat and tears on her skin. She could just fall backwards. No one would miss her. No one was expecting her to ever finish the task she had given herself. No one had even asked her to do it. She had brought this all upon herself, so she was free at any time to stop if she thought she wouldn’t make it.

  But quitting was out of the question. She had never been a coward in her life. And giving up would be an act of cowardice, an act based on fear of the pain that would inevitably follow. She would gnaw through the chain with her own teeth if she had to. Ewa imagined that the individual link was a face. It was laughing at her inability to solve the problem. That was what made Ewa furious. She would love to just smash it!

  Hmm. Steel would shatter under certain circumstances if it was hit with something. It just needed to be cold enough, then it would become brittle. Everything that had been sent to Mars for the Spaceliner project was intended to acclimate to the overwhelmingly frigid temperatures that prevailed here. Anywhere from minus eight degrees to minus one hundred—those chains were undoubtedly made of the most expensive specialty steel. But there was no requirement that the material needed to withstand a temperature of minus one hundred ninety-six degrees, the boiling point for liquid nitrogen. That just might be the ticket! If she found a flask of nitrogen somewhere in the vehicle, she’d be able to cool down the link—and then smash it.

  One more time, she jumped down, climbed up the ladder, and searched through the inventory list for nitrogen. Hadn’t she even packed a bottle of it back on the supply ship? Ewa tried to recall her departure from the Spaceliner supply ship. Yes. At the last minute she remembered having seen a bottle of nitrogen standing by itself on the ship. It must be here in the cab.

  Ewa rummaged through all the cabinets and drawers. Then she remembered that she had stowed the container in one of the compartments in the floor. Ha! Now she would show that chain who was boss. Along with the bottle of nitrogen, she took along the bolt cutter, tucking it into her tool belt. She needed something with which to smash the chain, and that seemed to be just the tool for the job.

  Her third Tarzan
attempt at landing on the drill head ended a little wobbly. She hadn’t jumped as far as she should have, and just managed to steady herself so as not to lose either the bottle or the bolt cutter. She gripped the bottle between her legs with the valve aimed at the chain’s link, then opened the vent. A thick fog of icy cold gas sprayed out, enveloping the link and cooling it. A thin layer of ice formed on the chain in the intense cold, despite the almost complete lack of water vapor in the Mars atmosphere. Perhaps this was dry ice made up of carbon dioxide.

  Ewa forced herself to be patient. She was anxious to try out her idea, to see if it would work. However, that would have been foolish. The steel would then have a chance to warm up again. She had only the one bottle, and it would have to suffice. She used it until it was almost empty. Her big moment was near.

  The bottle contained a surprisingly large amount of nitrogen. It was a hardcore test of her patience. But then it was finally time. She let the bottle drop to the ground. It was now or never. Ewa grasped the bolt cutter with her right hand, since she had more strength in it, and held on with her left. She swung the cutter it against the chain as hard as she could, and then slammed it against the steel a second time. She felt the blow, as it sent waves of pain through her body. She didn’t hear or see anything, and had no idea whether or not she was being successful. Like a madwoman, she swung at the chain over and over again. This was her only chance. There weren’t any other options. It had to work.

  Then she realized she was falling. She was positive she hadn’t let go, but her hand was still slipping downward. She had no idea what had happened until the drill head crashed to the ground: She had done it! The chain had broken, and the drill pipe was freed. The vehicle was also free now, and she could set her plan in action. What was that plan again? It didn’t matter. She needed to rest first.

  As if in a trance, she climbed back up the ladder, closed the cab’s hatch behind her, started the life support system, ripped off her suit, and fell dead tired onto her cot.

  10/3/2042, Spaceliner 1

  “Rick?”

  He lifted his arm. The flight manager was calling him. Rick had just begun his inspection round of the ship. Everyone knew that starting at 11:00 he inspected all the areas, and everyone also knew that he hated to be disturbed while doing so. Maggie Oh, the young FM, had been quite compliant with that up to now.

  Rick assumed that she was nurturing the hope that she would eventually be allowed to replace the demoted captain. If, despite this, Maggie was still interrupting him, it had to be important. Thus, he replied, “What is it, Maggie?”

  “I have here a message from a Gabriella Fortini on an encrypted channel. The signal was transmitted to us by a Russian Mars satellite.”

  Fortini. If he remembered correctly, she was the doctor for the MfE project. She had already notified him that she was prepared to collaborate. It seemed fitting that her message had been sent via a Russian satellite. As far as he knew, MfE had rented the Russian’s transmission capacity because it had been cheaper than all the other options.

  “Maggie? Please forward the message to my cabin.”

  “I already did.”

  “Thank you, Maggie. You really are doing a great job. Your future is bright,” Rick said, concluding the call.

  If the woman would simply show herself a little more amenable in private, she’d already be captain, he thought. All she ever showed him was a cold shoulder. However, Rick knew that success was rooted in persistence. It was beneficial enough to have her as an ally. He would eventually find the right woman for himself.

  Rick practically flew back to his quarters. The sense that another of his plans was about to come to fruition gave him wings. The fact that he couldn’t share this triumph with anyone was simply a drop of bitterness. He shut the cabin door before pulling the radio scanner out of his desk and checking every corner of his cabin. If there was a bug in here communicating with the outside world via radio waves, he would find it. He was obsessive about doing this inspection, every single time he entered his room. After all, others might develop ideas similar to the ones he had. But he would never fall into their traps.

  The cabin was clean. Rick was satisfied. “Computer, play the message from Gabriella Fortini,” he ordered.

  “Authorization required.”

  He held his face up to the camera so it could analyze the pattern of his iris and measure his body temperature, the latter to confirm he was actually alive.

  “Authorization confirmed,” the computer voice said. “Playing message.”

  On the screen, a low-res image of a woman—probably meant to conserve the transmission capacity—appeared. She was well over thirty and had wavy hair. He couldn’t make out her eye color. He liked what he saw of Gabriella. And she was clearly smart enough to not blow an opportunity with the power players among the suddenly much smaller human race. He felt flattered.

  “Hello, Rick,” she said cheerfully. “I’m using this chance moment of privacy to provide you with what might be valuable information. A former member of the MfE project has stolen two vehicles from your supply ship. The woman’s name is Ewa Kowalska, and she has been banished by our initiative. This means she isn’t acting in our name, nor does she have our support. I hope very much that you will take this into consideration in our future dealings with each other.”

  The woman shook her hair a little. Rick was completely fascinated.

  “I know it won’t be possible for you to respond to me for practical reasons. I have started this transmission without anyone else’s knowledge, and hope that from your end, our direct connection can remain a secret. My position here would be jeopardized otherwise. I won’t lie. The mega-corporation behind your project isn’t viewed all that favorably by the MfE members. We will have to work together to change this opinion. After all, only by consolidating all our resources can we secure the long-term survival of humanity.”

  Yes, young lady, you’re damned right about that. And that consolidation will happen under my control.

  “With this, I bid you farewell until we can meet in person in six weeks.”

  Ciao, bella, he thought, I’m really looking forward to meeting you in person. Italian women had a reputation as passionate lovers. Chilly Maggie could just keep her distance.

  Sol 107, NASA base

  Ewa woke up needing to relieve herself. She took care of that, then sat down cross-legged on her mat. Yesterday’s events seemed like a dream to her. It wasn’t one of her better dreams. It was too painful for that. But she remembered the good feeling that came when something went according to plan. This had been a rare feeling in recent times, but that didn’t bother her. She didn’t deserve anything different. The NASA astronauts didn’t deserve this. They had offered to help without being obligated to do that, and as thanks, she had stolen their ship from them. And it was through Ewa’s intervention that their Mars station was now broken as well.

  How far away might they be already? Or were they going to wait it out in their damaged base? Ewa wanted to know, but she didn’t feel up to asking over the radio.

  It was too early for that. She first needed to implement her plan. The drill pipe was no longer in the way—it was lying on its side on the ground, instead. Although it wouldn’t be easy to someday get the drill operational again, it shouldn’t be impossible. If there was to be any kind of future for them, she needed total flexibility with the drill vehicle. She looked out the window. The mountain seemed to have grown larger. That was her destination.

  She rummaged around in the food supplies and found a few dry oat flakes. That wasn’t important. The main thing was for her stomach to feel full. She drank some water after eating them, then brushed her teeth. That would have to suffice for today. She thought nostalgically about the warm spray of a shower as she pulled on a diaper and her thermal underwear.

  It’s strange, she thought, that the Spaceliner suits spare us having to train as much and increase our strength, but they still haven’t solved the problem of
human excretions. The human body simply wasn’t made to vegetate within a closed system. Since this system wasn’t likely to change much on Mars in the foreseeable future, they might be forced to adapt their own bodies. Ewa shuddered at the thought, even though it was logical. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be around long enough to experience it.

  She checked the charge level of her spacesuit before she climbed into it. Last night, she had plugged the suit into the electrical outlet in the cab. The artificial muscles were now operational again. All the suit’s resources—from oxygen to the water and food pulp which she could sip from a flexible tube—were topped off. She wiped the inside of the helmet one more time. The interior of the visor was only a few centimeters from her nose, but as soon as Ewa was stuck inside her suit, that panel was the hardest-to-reach spot in the entire universe for her.

  The most dangerous thing that could occur while she was outside wasn’t an unexpected meteorite strike, but the onset of nausea which might cause her to vomit inside her helmet. If you didn’t want to die, you kept your mouth closed and swallowed hard, regardless of how you felt. That had been her trainer’s advice for such instances. It was odd that she was thinking about this right now. She couldn’t recall the trainer’s face, but she sure remembered his vivid warning.

  She reached for the helmet fastener, but then hesitated. She could actually wait a little. If the cab developed a leak, she could always close the visor. She sat down on the driver’s seat with her helmet open. She turned on the screen and switched it over to the tower configuration. This time, everything worked. The hydraulic system lifted the two spoon-like side arms upward, and they raised the powerful tower with them. Oh, the miracle of technology!

 

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