Twisted Spaces: 1 / Destination Mars

by E. N. Abel

  ''Commander, take over!''

  In the heat of the moment Tjurin had forgotten that his work force had a military component. Surprised by the quick and precise reaction of these men he was baffled for a second, then assumed command again: ''Put down the tarp slowly!'' Waving to the extra men, he went on: ''Lieutenant Rosskov, get the gas! Sergeant Wolfram, secure the bottom!''

  While Alex walked back to the sphere's landing pad to fetch the tanks with the compressed air, the group slowly lowered the station floor. Walter Wolfram, the second surplus man, came over with an arm full of stakes and an electric sledgehammer, dragging a long power cord behind him. Starting at the corner he reached first, he rammed the meter-long steel poles into the harsh ground like tent pegs. It took forty pegs, a lot of pulling and cursing, and within three quarters of an hour the tarp was nailed to the Moon's surface. In the meantime Alex had transported some tanks with compressed air from the sphere to the site and attached one to the first bottom vent. As soon as Walter had slammed the last peg into the ground, he opened the vent, inflating the 25x25 meter section within seconds. The two bar pressure made it hard as concrete. One done, fifteen more to go. And after that ... the stations two buildings and the hangar. All with several separate sections. He waved at Tjurin, and the One-O waved at Walter and two more suited figures. Four of the others followed the 'gas guys', watching them as a security measure, with Tjurin, the most experienced, watching over all of them.

  Mike chased the rest of the outside crew with some hand waving back to the sphere, ordering them inside. No sense in taking even the slightest unnecessary risk out here.

  It took the better part of the morning, but finally the set up was complete. One low and one high building were standing in the bright sun on a ten thousand square meter pad. Between them was a hangar big enough to accommodate the sphere. It all looked like a giant bouncy castle dipped in pure silver.

  ''Well done, kids!'' Tjurin's voice vibrated with pride. ''The first human construction on another world!''

  They all needed a moment of quiet contemplation. Finally Mike's voice penetrated the silence: ''OK, guys, let's get this station operational!''

  A unified ''Yeah!'' echoed on all channels.

  Chapter 111

  Moon

  New Year's Eve 2016

  Luna Base Alpha - that's what the crew had christened their silver air castle - was ready. Twenty people had gathered in the 'main' building's auditorium and looked upwards through the roof. Although constructed completely of some type of super-tough plastic foil, the ceiling was almost perfectly transparent and permitted an unhindered view at the black, star-filled sky. Even the ship's deflector shield, now protecting the station from micrometeorites, did not really change that.

  The little community took in the marvellous sight in silence. Pride filled each and every one of them, and not without cause: no human had ever achieved what they had done: built a spaceship, travelled to the Moon and erected a building there. Even those who had thought Mike's set up order to be an unnecessary nuisance, now found themselves in agreement: the symbolic value of this deed was priceless. Even more so as most parts of the station were composed of a highly reflective material and turned the whole installation into a very bright spot on the dark floor of the crater. The small complex could even be seen from Earth, one just needed a pair of cheap binoculars.

  After half an hour of sightseeing Mike came with the second surprise.

  ''Little dry here, isn't it?'' he asked loudly into the quiet conversation. ''How about we change that? Friends, this is New Years Eve, and we are standing on the fucking Moon! What do you all think about a little party tonight? Complete with music, drink, dance and some fancy food?''

  Into the arising astonishment he continued ''We are dumb jar heads, we didn't order any food supplies for Christmas nor New Year's. But we are very lucky, we have Theresa N'Gomi watching over us.'' Turning towards her, he pointed at the woman.

  ''This angel here not only got us a feast on Christmas eve, no, she even sweet-talked Colonel Leclerc into supplying some titbits she turned into a wonderful cold buffet for today. It's waiting in the ship to be brought down. She just needs some volunteers to help set up.''

  At once a murmur started and a dozen hands were raised. Mike waved appealingly.

  ''Slowly, my friends, slowly.'' When the noise died down, he continued: ''And with Colonel Leclerc being a man of honour and wit, he added a few cases of best French wine.'' Again some cheering arose, again calmed by Mike waving his hands. ''To honour our beneficiary, we'll have the first toast to him tonight. Online in the World Wide Web. And our second one will be to our Theresa. But now, my friends, we need to get organised a bit.'' Pointing at Tjurin he went on: ''As a true Russian staff officer our One-Oh here should know how to get a massive party up and running. I hereby appoint him as top manager for the first Lunar New Year's Event ever.''

  Everybody laughed, and Tjurin, caught by surprise, turned to Mike: ''Well, thank you Captain.'' He got a nod and a grin for that. Accepting his fate with dignity, he took a deep breath and faced his involuntary 'party work force volunteers'. ''OK, listen up. We need tables, chairs, glasses, cutlery, plates, napkins, a place for the buffet, a place for the music. All around a dance floor, I would suggest.'' He made a big circle around the room's center. ''The rest rooms have to be prepared. The drinks and the food have to be brought here.'' He paused shortly. ''And last but not least: we need a rotation plan for our bridge watch. It would hardly be fair to leave the two of them up there all night on duty, while we have lots of fun down here.'' The agreement was loud and universal. ''Excellent.'' Tjurin pointed at Snider: 'Your job, Lieutenant.'' Turning to the group of people he asked: 'Who in here is the craziest son-of-a-gun when it comes to hot rod disc-jockeying?''

  A general laughter, then everybody pointed to Abayomi Sebuturo, chanting: ''Aba, Aba, Aba!''

  ''Sounds like a unanimous vote to me,'' the One-O shouted over the noise. Then, as the fuss calmed down: ''Sorry, my friend, but you have the job.'' A lot of laughter and encouragement made Aba nod, and more laughter and loud applause followed.

  Tjurin next waved at four of the sturdier guys: ''You pretty girls over there go get the tables and seating from the ship's galley.'' Again an accepting nod and he indicated to the next group of four: ''Food and drink.'' The next quarter: ''Music and buffet space. Talk to Aba and Theresa, they'll tell you how they want it.'' He took a breath, then added: ''You have to suit up. Three work, one watches - just like you have learned.'' Finally, turning to the rest: ''Two volunteers for the latrines.'' To his astonishment all remaining people raised their hands. ''OK, OK, organise that yourself, but get the ones around this hall running.'' That meant plundering the sphere's toilets from their chemical potties.

  In seconds the hall was empty, just Tjurin and Mike remained.

  ''Hot rod disc-jockeying?''

  ''Picked that one up from my teenage daughter ...'' the commander replied.

  They looked at each other, unsmiling. Both knew that this party would pose an excellent opportunity for the foreign spy to send another message - or perform sabotage.

  Tjurin said quietly: ''I have placed Heinrichs, Wolfram and Snider on rotary reactor watch. And Goldman is ready, too.''

  ''If we don't get lucky tonight, we go to plan 'B' on January third.''

  ''I agree, Captain. By the way, I made sure the guards are properly armed.''

  ''Not much sense otherwise.''

  ''As for us, we have to watch out that our kids don't get too blitzed; after all, we are not in New York Central Park here.''

  ''Are the fireworks ready?''

  ''Yes, Captain. On the spot. Planted it last night; that was a nice navigation exercise.'' Tjurin showed a broad grin: ''Who came up with that idea?''

  ''Guess.''

  ''No - Simone?''

  ''Her plan 'A'. Before we try 'B'...'' Mike laughed, then suddenly turned sad.

  Tjurin registered the change-of-mood immediatel
y: ''Captain...'' and, as he didn't get a reaction: ''Mike, what is it?''

  ''Simone has cancer, Dimitri. Terminal. Six months on the outside, the last three ugly.''

  The Russian looked thunderstruck and remained silent for a few moments. ''Nothing we can do? I mean, the Russian Federation would be more than willing ...''

  ''As the Swiss or the Americans, I'm sure. But with Simone it's the pancreas.'' That was all Mike needed to say; both men knew the survival rate on that one: zero-point-zero.

  ''Prokljatie!'' Tjurin cursed in Russian.

  Mike looked into his One-O's face: ''She told me her last wish a few days ago. Can you imagine: she wants to be buried on Mars. Beside Ellie.''

  ''Oh damn. What did you answer?''

  ''I said no.''

  ''What?'' Tjurin stiffened, but Mike went on, unmoved: ''I promised her to see Alpha Centauri with her own living eyes. And to be buried in the most beautiful place we can find there.'' Again a Colonel Tjurin, master cosmonaut of the Russian Space Force, did not know what to say. After a moment Mike turned towards the sphere, pointing: ''There. The tables are coming. Time for the show.'' He took a deep breath, trying to regain equilibrium. Finally he smacked Tjurin's shoulder: ''C'mon, Towarischtsch, let's go see if Leclerc packed some drinkable vodka. I sure do need one.''

  ''No worries, Captain,'' Tjurin replied, sober. ''If the Frenchman didn't, I did.''

  Mike laughed. ''One thing you Russians are always reliable for, thank God.''

  That made his One-O laugh out too.

  Chapter 112

  Moon

  New Years Eve 2016

  It had worked like magic. With the eager help of eighteen people the empty hall had been turned into a party zone. Tables quickly screwed together from 'liberated' plastic boards, a dozen inflatable chairs and several big air cushions acting as ottoman substitutes had cleverly been aligned around an open center, with the music station in the middle of one sidewall and some quickly constructed folding screens as room dividers - it all made an improvised, but overall cosy impression. Mike had silently asked himself where all the material had come from - Stardust must have been ransacked, but then decided to let it rest: tomorrow would be another day ... What the improvised surrounding left to be desired, the crew made up for: the evening's dress code matched the magnitude of the event - elegant to chic. So the six ex-soldiers wore a uniform-like outfit custom-made by a master tailor in Bitburg and reminiscent of the dress regimentals on Picard's Enterprise. The others wore their Sunday best. Plenty of beauty and elegance to admire. And that was good: the event would be watched live on the Internet, caught by a dozen webcams, transmitted online via quantum link to CERN's newly set up Stardust-server and from there distributed to over two hundred proxies all over the world.

  By now Aba had thrown on a disk, and contemporary music sounded through the hall. A first couple dared a dance. Marlene, Mike, Chan and Alex had managed to get hold of the only round table and a quartet of the air-filled easy chairs. Sitting comfortably around their table they enjoyed glasses of bubbly.

  Again Leclerc had shown more insight than this ship's Captain and had smuggled a few cases of excellent Champagne in between the supply crates. And enough champagne flutes, too; made from clear plastic, but it worked. Mike knew he would have to pay back the Colonel's kindness and foresight some day.

  Three more hours to midnight, three more hours until a Michael MacMillan would have to hold a speech that would enter the history books. Transmitted live from the Moon to Earth, followed by a few hundred million people. During the last few days he had worked on the text, read it to his shipmates, talked it over, corrected and refined it. But it was still an enormous task. Funny thing was, he knew exactly what he wanted to say: Quit killing each other. Fight hate. Unite! Simple words with a tough message. To comfort himself, he took another sip. Peeking over the rim of his glass, he eyed Marlene. Somehow she had also shown more brain than her partner and packed an elegant, light party robe in a dark blue, which enhanced her natural beauty to nearly supernatural quality. Without wasting much thought Mike compared his new wife with Ellie ... and cringed: no good could come from that. He forced the thought away, concentrated on Leni's elegant dress and her nice, cleverly accentuated decollètè - and sighed deeply. Celebrating a party in a plastic tent on the Moon - after travelling there with a half baked interstellar vessel - and a fucking spy among them ... and a speech that would be seen world wide ... Oh damn. He turned to Marlene: ''Sweetheart, have I already told you how splendid, fantastic and stunning you look?

  ''Only about twenty times,'' she beamed. ''But please, don't let that stop you.''

  ''You look absolutely gorgeous, my darling. Would you chance a dance?''

  ''But of course, I'd love to!''

  Mike got up, fetched Marlene's hand and led her towards the dance floor. One sharp glance over his shoulder, and a gaping Alex woke up, remembered his girl sitting there too, and quickly asked Chan.

  Aba saw the Captain coming and knew the party would now start officially. He reacted at once and, knowing his bosses antiquated taste, threw on a new disc. The 'Blue Danube Waltz' sounded up and slowly penetrated the hall. The Captain and his partner took dancing position, smiled and started the waltz. Within moments Mike's comrades and their favourite girls joined them - the ability to perform a first class waltz was a requirement to become an NCO in the Armed Forces. Experienced, they swung into formation, creating a precise circle along the outer rim of the dance area. The rest of the crew joined them, extending the circle. Soon the couples turned gracefully to the timeless melodies of Johann Strauss, two hundred thousand miles away from the nearest ballroom. The webcams caught the miraculous scene and transmitted it down to an observant Earth. There over three hundred million people were watching.

  Mike felt Marlene in his arms, light as a feather, breathed her enchanting scent. At once an uninvited memory sneaked into his mind: years ago, in Paris, another young and beautiful woman in his arms. It had been a waltz too, his wedding dance. Ellie had been a bigger challenge for him then this girl, but on the dance floor she, too, moved like a weightless elf. He clearly saw her loving smile on that first waltz as husband and wife before his eyes. Then suddenly the picture faded and Ellie's face morphed into Marlene's. Mike recalled where he was and what he was doing. He saw Marlene's questioning look and suspected her to have observed something on his face. Instead of giving an explanation he surprised his girl by strengthening his grip on her, pulling her in tighter and speeding up the turns, achieving more momentum. Within a heartbeat they were twirling around the floor perimeter, closely followed by six other couples performing a perfect circle of movements and speed.

  Aba smilingly increased the speed of the music a bit and the dancers transformed into a circle of fast twirling figures. The reduced gravity made it all look even more graceful.

  Chapter 113

  Moon

  New Years Eve 2016

  Five minutes to midnight.

  Yesterday the media and the inhabitants of Earth had been informed by CERN to expect something truly spectacular from Twisted Spaces and that it might be interesting to watch the sky at midnight CET.

  During the last hours the crew had seen some fireworks already, every full hour: each time zone had celebrated the approaching New Year on its own. And now the time for them had come.

  Mike peeked at the number of current followers and held his breath: one-and-a-half billion. A bit shocked he rose and gave Aba a sign. The music faded out, the dancers gathered in a half-circle in front of Mike. A spot light was pointed at him and he took a deep breath. Time to make the announcement come true. ''Crew of Stardust,'' he began, his voice unexpectedly steady. ''Comrades. Friends. Spectators from Earth. The first stage of our journey is complete. We have build a space craft, reached our Moon and set up a small station here. With this we have done what no man has done before.'' He paused, then pointed into the circle: ''We are celebrating a New Years party on another world.'' Spon
taneous laughter and applause sounded up. Mike let it go on for a moment, then lifted his hands and the applause ended. ''Each and every one of you has done his or her part to achieve this incredible goal. And now we are here, in our own Lunar base, in the final stages of preparations for the next huge step, the adventure of a flight to another planet, the journey to Mars. And more challenges are waiting: our final goal lies elsewhere, far out in the depth of space.'' Again applause rang up.

  ''Many friends on Earth have supported us, some openly, some in hiding. So tonight we want to thank them all and name at least those who we may name: like Dr Ralf Kaiser, Director of CERN. His Chief of Security, Paul Leclerc. Colonel Warrington of the US Army. Dr Nora Coleman and Dr Walter Westinghouse from NASA. Dr Dimitri Tjurin from Roskosmos. Thank you all for your help and support.'' He paused. ''Not to forget the Swiss government who supports us so graciously, the American government who granted us safe conduct at all times. The Russian government who sent us their very best man. Or the Chinese, who honoured us with an angel of a woman.'' Mike made not he slightest change in tone while mentioning the latter. ''All these people and many more have helped us to succeed, and they all shall benefit from our scientific advancements. As of January first, 2017, our complete work about antimatter and antigravitation is online and downloadable from CERN's web site for everyone. Simply search for the project's name: 'Twisted Spaces'. And there is only one condition: use the knowledge in peace and for the good of all mankind.'' He paused shortly, making an all-inclusive gesture. ''And now, fellow brothers and sisters on Earth, hear the New Year's Message 2017 - from the Moon. We are fourteen nations here, on this little star base, and in fourteen tongues we will speak to you.''

  Mike pointed to the assembled crew, and Snider came forward into the spot light, said in clear English: ''End the killing. End the hate. Unite. All these worlds are yours to explore and exploit. Use them together and in peace.'' He moved back and Theresa N'Gomi stepped forward, spoke the words in Swahili. Muller followed up with German, Reyd repeated them in Farsi, Alex in Russian, Chan Li in Chinese, Acar in Turkish. Man followed after woman and language after language: French, Spanish, Japanese, Danish, Arabic ...