‘’He shot a fox? Bravo! So, would he be ready to sell its fur to me?’’
‘’Uh, I don’t know! What do you think, Michel?’’
‘’I want to keep it as a souvenir, Father.’’ answered the boy without hesitation, making Sergei nod his head in approval.
‘’Exactly the answer I would have given at his age. I tell you what, boy: you can keep your fox fur, while I will give you another souvenir for you of your time in Siberia.’’
Watched by Viktor, Denise and an expectant Michel, Sergei went to a wall display behind the counter that supported a number of fur products. He then unhooked a small red fur hat with a tail hanging from its back, à la Davy Crocket, and presented it with a grin to Michel.
‘’Here is a nice red squirrel hat that you will be able to wear to show to others that you’re a true Siberian boy.’’
‘’Oh, thank you so much, mister!’’ said happily Michel while taking the hat presented to him. As Michel went to a nearby full length wall mirror to admire himself with the hat on his head, Sergei smiled to Viktor and Denise.
‘’Since squirrel skins are quite small, I use them mostly to make kids hats out of them: they are actually very popular with youngsters.’’
‘’That was very kind of you, mister.’’ said Denise, happy for her son. ‘’Are you sure that you don’t want us to pay for it?’’
Sergei shook his head vigorously in response.
‘’No need to! First, Viktor is an old friend of mine and I am most happy to be able to make his son happy. Second, business has been very good during the last few years, what with all the people wishing to escape for a while the climatic conditions and disasters plaguing their respective parts of the World. Siberia, from a land synonymous with ‘forced exile and labor’, is in the process of turning into a sought-after natural spa area, and rightly so. More and more rich people are having retirement houses and lodges built around the region, with many choosing the shores of Lake Baikal as spots to build their new homes. The problem now is to ensure that all those newcomers don’t end up polluting and ruining the lake and nature around it.’’
‘’A problem too often encountered these days, my friend.’’ said Viktor, thoughtful. He then shook hands with Sergei, imitated by Denise.
‘’It was nice to see you again after all these years, my friend. I wish you continued prosperity and a long life.’’
‘’Thank you, Viktor! Do you intend to return from Mars one day and establish yourself around here?’’
Viktor had to think over his answer for long seconds as Denise watched on.
‘’As much as I would love that, I intend to make Mars my permanent home and that of Michel. I will however be most happy to come back for more family vacation time in the years to come.’’
‘’Living on Mars… That is going to be a pioneering experience indeed.’’
‘’Indeed! Talking of pioneering experience, I have a little something for you, Sergei.’’
Watched by his now curious friend, Viktor took a small transparent bottle containing pink grains out of a cargo pocket of his hunting vest and gave it to Sergei.
‘’This bottle contains Martian sea salt, extracted from the underground lake situated under Mars Base One. We actually use some of that Martian sea salt to spice up our food, as it proved to be safe for human consumption. That salt has actually turned to be Mars’ first export item and is said to be very popular on Earth, both to season food and for therapeutic baths for people suffering from arthritis or from skin diseases.’’
‘’I know: it sells for a fortune actually, due to its rarity. This is great! Thank you, my friend! When are you leaving for Irkutsk?’’
‘’Early in the morning, by train. We will take a plane in the next evening to go to Japan, our next vacation spot.’’
‘’Well, I wish you a good vacation in Japan, you and your little family. Have a good evening!’’
‘’You too, Sergei!’’
They then parted after a last round of handshakes, with the family walking out of the general store to go to the bar-lounge/restaurant of the lodge.
On entering the bar-lounge/restaurant, a large-sized room built of wood logs, the family saw two dozen people in it, most of them having drinks at the bar or at tables near the bar counter. Since it was still a bit early for supper, Viktor led Denise and Michel towards the bar counter. A grizzled man sitting on one of the high stools of the bar saw them approach and immediately jumped off his stool to nearly run towards Viktor.
‘’VIKTOR, YOU OLD RASCAL! YOU’RE STILL ALIVE? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?’’
‘’On Mars!’’ replied Viktor before exchanging a manly hug with the newcomer. He then smiled at the surprised Denise. ‘’Denise, this is an old friend of mine, Piotr. We spent many years together in the Taiga as young men growing up. We however lost track of each other decades ago, when I moved to Moscow to study nuclear physics.’’
Denise nodded her head at that, then offered her hand to Piotr.
‘’Hi! I am Denise, Viktor’s wife, and this is our son, Michel. Pleased to meet you, Piotr.’’
‘’Pleased to meet you as well, Denise. Did you say Mars? That’s a joke, right?’’
‘’I was serious, Piotr.’’ replied Viktor. ‘’Me and Denise have been working on Mars for nearly six years now, while my son Michel was born on Mars. You should have heard about us. Where have you been in the last few years?’’
‘’Prospecting for gold and living in the Taiga mostly. Some would call me a hermit, since I disappear into the Taiga for months at a time in order to search for gold. But enough about me: you have to tell me about you and your family, Viktor. Let’s go sit at the bar: I am paying.’’
‘’Are you sure that you don’t want me to pay? You must not have found much gold, if you are still forced to live like a hermit.’’
Piotr lowered his voice to a near whisper then, speaking close to Viktor’s right ear.
‘’Keep this to yourself, but I found a very nice little stream with lots of gold nuggets in it.’’
Viktor nodded his head at once, his expression most serious: gold prospecting in Siberia, or anywhere else for that matter, was a cutthroat business where fair play didn’t count for much. Finding a good gold deposit often attracted quickly some unsavory characters to the prospectors who bragged too much about it.
‘’You can count on my silence, Piotr…but only if you let me pay the second round of drinks.’’
‘’Deal!’’
They had time to sit down at the bar and order their first drinks, with Michel getting a non-alcoholic wine cooler, when the television set fixed on the back wall of the bar started showing the six o’clock news on RussVision. Having been mostly cut off from the outside world for three weeks, Viktor and Denise listened to it while chatting with Piotr. Their level of attention suddenly went up sharply when pictures of hard urban fighting started showing, while the newscaster spoke in a grave voice.
‘’In Saudi Arabia, the forces of General al Fahd are now in full control of Riyadh and Medina. The Saudi royal family, which had been living mostly abroad in the last few years because of the volatile popular climate in Saudi Arabia, has now fled the country or has exiled itself for good in the various countries of Europe and Asia where they are said to have stashed tens of billions of dollars in secret bank accounts. General al Fahd has vowed to use all the means available to recuperate and repatriate those billions to Saudi Arabia, which he claims were stolen by the Saudi royals while the Saudi people was left to suffer in a country devastated by both nearly unbearable heat waves and by a national economy severely crippled by the drying out of Saudi oil fields. However, the remaining supporters of the royal family, mostly followers of the main Wahhabite religious preachers who had relied on the support of the royals to keep their influence on the population, are still resisting the forces of General al Fahd in a number of cities and towns. The United Nations Securit
y Council…’’
Pyotr mostly resumed out loud the thoughts of Viktor and Denise as the reporter went on.
‘’Always the same scenario: first, the big people get big by exploiting the small people and by stealing the riches of the country. Then, when things sour up, they flee with their stolen money and leave the small people to deal with the mess they created.’’
‘’That’s certainly a scenario I have read before in history, many times.’’ added Denise, somber as she watched the scenes of urban fighting. ‘’The worst part is that, most of the time, those big people end up living the rest of their lives in luxury, hiding behind corrupt local officials and guarded by armies of bodyguards.’’
‘’And what kind of political system do you have on Mars, if I may ask?’’
Viktor took on him to answer Pyotr on that.
‘’Simple: we don’t have any political system on Mars. The Mars colony is and will stay a special territory under the control of the United Nations, until it is declared self-sufficient. Until then, the various countries which participate in the Mars Project finance it and make sure that, on top of supervising the planned development of the colony, the needed equipment and supplies are sent to Mars in a timely fashion. They also guarantee that no one country or group of countries will be able to claim parts of Mars for themselves. The one special political provision concerning the Mars Project is about the children born on Mars or in Mars orbit, like in the case of our son Michel, who was born in Mars Base One: they became at birth certified citizens of Mars, with distinct passports and with their rights as such guaranteed by the United Nations. Me and Denise, having elected to live permanently on Mars, have requested our own Martian passports, which should be ready for us before we leave back for Mars.’’
‘’Martian citizens… Wow!’’ said Pyotr before raising his glass high and raising his voice as well. ‘’TO MARS!’’
‘’TO MARS!’’
10:11 (California Time)
Tuesday, August 16, 2050
Space passenger terminal, Vandenberg Space Center
California, U.S.A.
The few reporters, press photographers and cameramen present in the space passenger terminal at Vandenberg to cover the latest departure for Mars smiled on seeing little Michel Ponichnikov, walking with his parents towards the last access control post: while he was wearing a custom-fitted spacesuit, like Viktor and Denise, he also wore proudly his red squirrel fur hat on his head, inside his opened helmet. Close behind the Ponichnikovs came the Batrangs, also wearing their spacesuits, with five year-old May holding hands with her parents. Two more families returning to Mars followed: Thor Valsung and Nadia Gorushkova, holding the hands of their five year-old daughter Ingrid; and Tim Garland and Jodi White, with Tim carrying four year-old Jason. Completing the group of passengers headed for space where sixteen new astronauts, all mining or metallurgical experts and technicians, accompanied by the young wives of three of the technicians.
Once past the last access control point, the 31 astronauts and dependants took place in a large, specially designed bus with seats large enough to accommodate persons wearing spacesuits, with the bus then rolling out of the garage of the terminal. As the bus drove towards a waiting orbital shuttle, Denise Wattling gently patted the gloved hand of one of the wives of the mining technicians, who was sitting across the aisle from her. The young woman was clearly nervous, close to fearful.
‘’Don’t worry, Misses Sotomayor: space travel is now quite safe, compared to forty years ago. May I ask in what capacity you will work on Mars?’’
‘’I am going to fill a new position as executive secretary for the colony’s resources manager. With the opening of our first mines and metal smelters and foundries on Mars, managing the colony’s growth will become increasingly complex. Anticipating the future needs of the colony and organizing their delivery will also mean a growing administrative load. While my husband worked in a mining complex in Amazonia, I was in charge of the day to day ordering and delivery of supplies for the complex. I suppose that the job on Mars will be quite different, however.’’
‘’Indeed! If anything, anticipating the needs in advance will be even more critical than in your mining complex in Brazil: filling orders and shipping them from Earth takes months, literally.’’
Angela Sotomayor then glanced at little Michel, who was chatting enthusiastically with May Batrang-Sukarno, exchanging vacation stories with her.
‘’Was raising your boy more difficult than usual because of the environment of Mars?’’
‘’Well, I would lie if I said that Michel didn’t suffer from time to time from severe cases of ‘cabin fever’. However, the building of a pressurized dome inside the cavern containing Mars Base One did a lot to alleviate that problem. Also, when he became really restless, I then took him out on a walk outside of the cavern, or on an ATV ride around Melas Chasma, something that he really likes. Our poultry, rabbit and dairy cow farms and our fish ponds do a lot as well to distract our children at Mars Base One. Did they tell you if you are going to work at Mars Base One or at our new mining base at the foot of Olympus Mons?’’
‘’At first, I will be going down to the Olympus Mons magnetite mine with my husband. Then, whenever I get pregnant and give birth to a child, I will be moved to Mars Base One, where I will continue my work online.’’
‘’Sounds like a plan! I sincerely hope that you will enjoy your job on Mars: the planet may be arid and next to lifeless, but the vistas are simply grandiose.’’
Angela nodded at those words, hiding her remaining anxiety: she was still not sure if she had made the right decision by accepting to follow Paulo to Mars. The noises of the shuttle’s systems powering up to prepare for takeoff then made her forget temporarily about her worries. Those noises changed six minutes later to a titanic roar, accompanied by a strong acceleration that pushed Angela hard in her padded seat as the shuttle took up speed along the runway, finally taking off after a 2,100 meter run and climbing towards space and the waiting H.S.S. FRIENDSHIP.
CHAPTER 14 – OLYMPUS MONS
14:43 (GMT)
Tuesday, May 28, 2057
Control cabin of ‘Mole 04’ tunnel digging machine
20,170 meters under the slopes of Olympus Mons
18.7°N, 133.8°W, near Mars’ equator
Paulo Sotomayor, sitting in the driver’s seat of Mole 04, smiled to his coworker, Sarah Weiss, who was monitoring the exact position and orientation of their tunnel digging machine, and nearly shouted over the din and vibrations produced by the teeth of their machine’s contra-rotating excavator heads.
‘’NOT EXACTLY A QUIET JOB, ISN’T IT?’’
‘’DAMN RIGHT! YOU WOULDN’T NEED A VIBRATOR HERE TO GET AROUSED. IT IS NOT FOR NOTHING THAT THEY CALL THIS ‘THE DICK’ OR ‘THE VIBRATOR’.’’
‘’SO, IF I AM AT THE COMMANDS OF THAT DICK, DOES THAT MAKE ME A DICKHEAD?’’
Paulo briefly laughed with Sarah at his own joke, then reviewed again the readings on his instruments panel to make sure that everything was functioning properly. The nickname of ‘Dick’ given to his tunnel digging machine was quite appropriate when considering the general shape of the Mole: it had a massive, conical rotating drilling head with a maximum diameter of twelve meters at the front, followed by a twenty meter-long cylindrical body. That cylinder, with a diameter of ten meters, incorporated a total of ten separate steel tracks mounted on variable height suspensions which made the machine forcibly advance in a chosen direction while the machine’s excavating head dug through solid rock. The rock and ground debris cut by the excavating head was then further crushed and ground by a series of small but powerful grinding screw rollers positioned around a ring situated just behind the excavating head. As the machine dug its way and advanced slowly along the newly dug tunnel, the crushed and ground rock was evacuated towards the rear of the machine, where other machines, a mix of mechanical shovels and dump trucks, scooped up
the debris and carried them out of the tunnel, to be sorted out and to have the various ores in it, if any, processed. Such a digging machine of course demanded a lot of power but Mole 04 had plenty of it, since it incorporated not one, but two compact nuclear power plants. Such digging machines, built by the Caterpillar Corporation, had been in use on Earth for decades already and were both efficient and reliable. With Mole 04 necessitating a crew of only two persons, and with the dump trucks being robotic vehicles with no human crews, the whole process required very few human workers, while producing an impressive daily volume of crushed ore. Since the tunnel being dug was not pressurized, being linked to an open entrance at the foot of the southern cliffs of Olympus Mons, Paulo, Sarah and the operators of the mechanical shovels wore spacesuits, with their visors opened while they worked from inside the small pressurized driving compartments of their machines.
Sarah Weiss, a 32 year old mining technician with a degree in geology, watched carefully her attitude and position displays as Mole 04 worked to dig a tunnel destined to link Mars Mining Base 01, or MMB-01 in short, a magnetite iron ore mine under the southern outer slopes of Olympus Mons, with the recently established Mars Mining Base 02, an iron, chromium and titanium ore mine under the northeastern slopes of the extinct volcano. Once completed, that tunnel was going to provide a quick way to travel between the two mining complexes, which were 612 kilometers away from each other in a straight line, via an underground suspended monorail system, thus saving a lot of time and resources for the mining crews. Three more tunnel digging machines were also at work under the slopes of Olympus Mons, engaged in ore extraction rather than simple tunnel digging. Their machine being technically blind in its forward aspect, which was another reason for calling it a ‘Mole’, Sarah had to rely on a series of gyroscopes, ground penetrating radars and laser alignment beams to check where their machine was at any time. Right now, their Mole was about halfway between the two mining bases, at a depth of 20.2 kilometers under the surface of the volcano slopes and nearly under its summit, heading in a northeasterly direction at the blazing speed of fifty meters per hour. The close to 320 kilometer-long tunnel they had dug during the past year or so had in turn revealed a number of very promising ore deposits, as the tunnel they were digging went through those mineral veins. If anything, Olympus Mons had quickly proved to be a rich nest of many types of very valuable metallic ores, helping to provide the fledging Mars colony with locally produced steel, titanium, chromium and copper, on top of the aluminum and magnesium extracted and smelted in the Melas Chasma. Sizeable deposits of other ores had also been found but would have to wait for the reception of more mining, ore processing and metal smelting equipment on Mars before they could be exploited.
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