“But, the city goes nuts on the seventh of July. They have this festival where the whole aim is to get other people wet. People squirt each other with water guns, and throw buckets of water on each other. You can be sitting at a traffic light and someone will throw a bucket of water in your car! I think that’s taking it a bit too far. But, I guess it is people’s way of letting their hair down after the winter.”
* * *
Interactions with the Cosmos – The Blog of the International Mars Explorer
Interplanetary space is really, really, big. It seems so long since we set out. Earth is now just a tiny dot, and so is Mars. It’s been that way for a long time now. There are no visual references for our journey; nothing to tell us how fast we’re going or how far it is.
I guess it’s kind of like the sailing ships of old that used to take 3 months to cross an ocean: in a day you’re out of sight of land, and you don’t see land again until a day or two before you get there. In between, it’s all the same – you just have to have faith in your navigator, and your instruments, that you’re moving, and in the right direction. (Speaking of movement, we’ve already shed over 10 km/s of our velocity, as we slow down to intercept Mars, and we’ve traveled over 175 million kilometers.)
In many ways those old ocean crossings were more risky than what we’re doing – risks from storms, or the ship sinking, or the Bermuda Triangle (!) swallowing you up. Our risk is present, alright, but our technology is proven and space is not going to swallow you up (last I knew, there were no black holes in the Solar System!). The chances are better than 90% that we’ll make it back alive; that was not true of them. But, if not for them, we wouldn’t have a world now that is capable of launching a mission to another planet. Here’s to the Captain Cooks and Christopher Columbuses of old who were the real trailblazers.
-Aleksandr Kozlov
* * *
@KR_IME: COMMANDER KOZLOV = COMET-PUNCHER.
* * *
The generally good-humored nature of the last two posts left Lesley Jones breathing a sigh of relief, and hoping that the worst was over.
44
T-plus 67 days
“This is Lisa Angara reporting live for ENN from Recife, Brazil, where a massive plot to blow up the central portion of the city has been foiled. Arrests were made overnight by the Brazilian anti-terrorism authorities in the city, where terrorists were about to divert a gasoline pipeline into the sewer system of the city’s industrial district, and then ignite the gas causing a massive underground explosion. This would doubtless have claimed hundreds, or even thousands, of lives, and destroyed many factories that use robotic labor.
“They are not telling us anything at this point about who they were, or how many, but speculation is rampant that the Workers’ Front is behind it, attempting to make good on their promise to cause widespread destruction and loss of life, until governments restrict the use of general-purpose robots as human replacements in the workforce.
“The group’s reclusive leader has not yet been located. The FBI and CIA are devoting all their resources to tracking him down, in the biggest manhunt since Osama bin Laden, leader of the Al-Qaeda terror network, was finally located in Pakistan. According to sources close to the investigation, he may be hiding out in the mountains in Tennessee – a sparsely populated region with plenty of hiding places. Hampering the investigation, however, is the fact that a significant segment of the population sympathize with the Workers’ Front. ”
The broadcast cut back to the studio.
“Thanks for the live report, Lisa. More on this situation as it develops.
“As you can see from these scenes recorded earlier, Johannesburg is still smoking after the civil unrest there turned into an all-out war, leaving over 300 dead and nearly 600 injured. The governments of the world have pledged to unite against the underground organization until every one of their operatives has been tracked down.
“In other news, the International Mars Explorer is pulling ever closer to the Red Planet. There are now less than thirty days left until the first human mission to Mars will arrive there. Excitement is building, among both the scientific community and the general public. Schools around the world have countdown clocks running, as a focus of student interest in the mission, and amateur astronomy groups are hosting outreach parties and events to engage ordinary people in the excitement of spaceflight.
“The spacecraft and crew continue to be in excellent health, which bodes well for the success of the mission. An inspection of the exterior of the spacecraft by a free-flying camera bot shows no visible damage from their recent close brush with comet debris…”
Aleksandr turned to the others. “Let’s continue being the good news. I think the comet scare, terrifying as it was for us, was actually good for people on Earth, as it gave them something else to focus on.” The others nodded.
“The mission unites people, and shows them what’s possible,” Emile replied. “Although if the economy continues to recess, there may not be another mission for a long time. It’s a good thing IME was built and launched when she was – they’d never have been able to afford it now.”
“Yeah, I’m sure we can manufacture some other scary scenarios to keep Earth entertained,” Martin replied sarcastically. “What about overshooting Mars, or a near-miss with Phobos? We’re not here to entertain; we’re here to do science. Science that could not be done as effectively by any other means. I don’t know about you guys, but I came here to make new discoveries and advance planetary science.”
“Of course,” Alessia said. “But we’re still representatives of humanity at this place and time. Having this experience, in a sense, for everybody.”
“I wish they could have got us there a bit faster,” Christopher said. “I’m itching to get there now. I’ve got some major cabin fever.”
“I know what you mean,” Nikita replied. “It could be worse, though. We could have had to do it the old-fashioned way – six months, minimum – to get there. Then having to meet up with some Earth return stage that’s already been sent ahead, and hope nothing went wrong with it in the months or years it was sitting in Mars orbit waiting for us, else we’d never get home.”
“I just hope Earth doesn’t tear itself to pieces before we get back, with all this terrorism,” Kinuko said.
The others nodded, as their thoughts turned to loved ones on Earth.
45
T-plus 69 days
Everybody was just waking up. A scream rang out through the side B module. Christopher, Kinuko and Nikita rushed from their cabins to see what was going on, to find Alessia staring at a perfectly realistic large slimy frog on the outside of the bathroom door. She laughed almost immediately when she realized how completely she had been taken in by the prank. A perfectly positioned camera had captured the whole thing.
* * *
@KR_IME: JUST IN CASE YOU MISSED THE LAST ONE, HERE IS ANOTHER PICTURE OF AN ANGRY ASTRONAUT.
[Attachment: a picture of a sleepy Alessia screaming, hair undone, with the frog in the foreground.]
* * *
Later, over lunch, the conversation turned lively.
“Okay, everybody, name one non-essential item you brought with you,” Christopher said.
“Well,” Aleksandr said, “I brought my great-grandfather’s medal from World War II. He fought in the Battle of Stalingrad. He was the patriarch of the Kozlov family, and lived until 2003.
“He never talked much about it until his final years. Apparently he was very lucky to have made it out alive. The scale of the war at the Volga River was unprecedented. There was nothing like it before or since. The armies were like two massive ocean waves crashing against each other. Which one wins? Really, neither. Who wins when two million men die? It was some of the most bitter and ferocious fighting there has ever been. The life expectancy of a Soviet soldier was less than twenty four hours. But, not only did he fight, he lived to tell the tale. He was awarded the medal by Stalin himself in 1947.”
The others nodded appreciatively.
“He would have been proud to see humanity’s progress to the stars,” Alessia said.
More nods.
“I brought a copy of the Monty Python film The Meaning of Life,” said Emile.
Christopher laughed. “What? I didn’t think anybody here had even seen it, apart from me!”
“I am a big fan of Monty Python,” Emile replied. “It is some of the funniest stuff ever made.”
“I agree, bro. Put it there!” Christopher and Emile high-fived.
“What about you, Kinuko?” Christopher asked. “Anything besides the telescope? Like an anime comic, for instance?”
“I hate anime,” she replied. “I can’t believe my country invented such a stupid medium.”
The others chuckled.
“A Samurai sword, then?” Martin teased.
“No, but I did bring a copy of my final-year school project, and a printed work by the old British astronomer Sir Patrick Moore.”
“So, anything that’s not serious?” Christopher asked.
“Well...” she began, hesitantly, “I brought some of my Hello Kitty stuff from when I was a kid. The plush toys, the journals, the slippers, the whole nine yards.” The others chuckled.
“That’s more like it,” said Christopher.
Martin said, “I have some personal stuff. I have my grandmother’s wedding ring, and some rocks from Copper Harbor. It has a beach on Lake Superior. I also have a bolt from the Edmund Fitzgerald. It was a freighter that wrecked on Lake Superior in 1975, with the loss of all hands. It was a giant ship, fully laden. It was caught in a huge November storm, only a few miles off the coast. The sinking is still felt by the people of Michigan.
“There have been hundreds and hundreds of shipwrecks in the Great Lakes, of course. But this one stands out. It’s felt the most keenly – like their Titanic – even though it was generations ago. They wanted me to take a small part of it to Mars, to honor the crew.”
The others nodded, thoughtfully.
“I also brought a Tricolor flag,” Emile said. “One big one, and a thousand small ones to give away when we get back. I’m going to give them to schools, so the kids can look at them and think ‘that went to Mars’. I hope it will inspire them to follow careers in science and technology.”
“Cool,” said Christopher. “Well, I brought my robot development kit, of course. I’m also reviewing PhD theses for two people at Oregon State, but those don’t count because they aren’t physical objects. I also brought a small Las Vegas souvenir. A cowboy hat that spins. And a short length of garden hose.”
“A garden hose?” Martin asked incredulously. “What for?”
“Just because!” Christopher replied. “That’s just the kind of guy I am!”
“So, you brought an object that has no practical use or purpose whatsoever?”
“Damn straight!”
“Good Lord, you’re incorrigible!”
“Thank you!” Christopher took a mock bow. “So, can anyone top that?”
“Not for sheer pointlessness,” Alessia said. “I have a Bible, a small crucifix and a statue of the Virgin Mary. By the way, whoever tweeted about the Pope’s nose is a jerk,” she said, unable to fully suppress her amusement.
“Just a minute,” Martin said. “I have to go get something.”
He returned with a small guitar. “Bet you didn’t know I played, did you?”
“No,” Tung-chi said, clearly impressed. “I heard strumming coming from your cabin, but I figured it was just recorded or streamed.”
“This is a song about the Edmund Fitzgerald. It was written by Gordon Lightfoot, in 1976.”
He began to play. The song lasted six minutes in total. They sat in awed silence, as the emotional story of the wreck was sung. They clapped at the end.
“Wow, you really have some talent there,” Emile said. “We crown you the Musician of Mars!”
Martin replied, “Well, I suppose if Alex can be comet-puncher, I can be that. Since you mentioned Monty Python, Emile, here’s another song. I learned this one in school. It never ceased to amuse the other astrophysics majors.” He sang the Galaxy Song, which describes in comic detail the rough dimensions of the Milky Way.
“Woohoo!” the others cheered.
“That’s where the guy gets back in the fridge! And then the other guy asks the woman if he can have her liver!” Emile exclaimed.
“Yep, that would be it,” Martin said, grinning. “Oh my gosh, that stuff's funny. We should do some of the sketches. They're hilarious.”
“We totally should,” said Christopher. “The three of us – you, me and Emile. We should be able to do a few of them with just three.”
“And with no Germans aboard, there's no-one to say it isn't funny,” Emile said.
“Well, almost no-one,” Christopher said, looking directly at Kinuko.
“Look, just because you guys like all this weird stuff...” she teased back. “I'll stick with Hello Kitty and karaoke, thank you very much. With karate and sushi thrown in for good measure. My country is the most normal on Earth.”
“So that's why you have apartments the size of refrigerators, and cafes where people go to pet cats?” Martin teased.
“Yes. That's how normal people live. Not like you guys with your ranch houses, pickup trucks, and acres of room. Gas guzzlers!”
“Hey, don't knock our standard of living, just because we actually have a country big enough for all the people that live in it. And we still have children, instead of robots,” Christopher replied.
Tung-chi saw his opening and took it. “Pizza girl!” he exclaimed, pointing at Alessia.
“Vaffanculo!” she replied, with a mock glare. “Go look it up.”
“Okay then, moving swiftly on,” said Christopher, who understood the insult. “Who haven't we picked on yet? The Russians?”
“Don't mess with us, or you'll get ejected from the waste chute,” Aleksandr deadpanned.
“In Soviet Russia...” Christopher continued.
“Nyet,” Nikita said, sliding his forefinger across his throat, to general amusement.
“I wonder if they have this much fun on the ISS?” Martin said.
“Nah,” Christopher replied. “They're too busy doing Earth observation and crystal growth experiments. Speaking of which, how are ours going, Emile?”
“Pretty good. And, we should have some fresh vegetables to eat soon.”
“Nice.”
The conversation paused for a while, as they thought.
“How far out from Mars now, Nikita?” Alessia asked.
“Forty-eight million kilometers until we enter its sphere of influence. We're only going 33.9 kilometers a second now, down from our peak of 50.3.”
“How long?” Emile asked.
“Twenty-one days,” Nikita replied.
“Woohoo! I can't wait!” Christopher exclaimed.
“Me neither,” Nikita replied.
“Shame we can't get the telescope on it,” Aleksandr said.
“I know. I don't remember anyone asking me whether a 270-degree range of motion was enough,” Martin joked. “But, what are you going to do? At least ESA builds good telescopes. The stuff they've found with the VLT is just amazing. Like 4,900 exoplanets that could support life, for example. We can get a look at Earth if anyone wants to – we’re at least facing the right way for that.”
There was a pause.
“I don't really want to. It will just make me more homesick,” Kinuko said.
“Fair enough.”
“So, how are we going to cover forty-eight million kilometers and slow down enough for Mars orbit insertion in twenty-one days?” Kinuko asked.
“Less mass on board, and a little help from orbital mechanics,” Nikita replied. “We’re able to slow down a few percent more quickly now, even with the same level of thrust. Some of it is due to using up the xenon, and some of it is consumables and water that we’ve used and dumped overboar
d, since we don’t quite have 100% recycling yet. Hence, a higher thrust-to-mass ratio. Also, Mars orbits the Sun more slowly, and further out than Earth. The Sun’s gravity is helping slow us down.
“We had to choose the launch window carefully to get this planetary arrangement, both for the trip out and the trip home. This is the express train to Mars. Works for me.”
“Me too,” Martin said. “Faster than by any other means invented to date.”
Nikita continued, “Plus, once in Mars orbit, it’s only three days until we reach Phobos’ orbit. Once there, we’re going to park at the Lagrange point, between Phobos and Mars. That, of course, is the point at which Phobos’ gravity and Mars’ gravity balance each other out. And you want to know the really cool part? We’ll be parked three kilometers above Stickney Crater.”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Martin exclaimed. “Computer, bring up Phobos, and show Stickney crater.”
An image of the moon appeared. Its most striking geological feature, by far, was the giant crater. Viewed from the side, it appeared that a giant chunk had been blasted from the moon. Viewed straight on, it was fully half the diameter of the roughly twenty-kilometer-wide body.
“It’s deeper than the Grand Canyon, on a body that’s only about the size of New York City,” Martin said in awe. “It was made long ago, by an impact so severe that it almost shattered Phobos. And we’re going to have a grandstand view. And look there, towards the top of it: there’s another deep crater inside Stickney. Look how perfect of a pit it is. It’s like a cone with straight symmetrical sides. It’s over a kilometer deep. It’s called Limtoc. That’s the first place I want to go when we get to land on Phobos.”
The others sat in awed silence, watching a detailed animated flyby of Phobos.
46
T-plus 72 days
Alessia floated in the hub. Her body, hair, and clothes were iridescent white, and seemed to glow. Aleksandr floated there too. He had the same appearance, as did the hub and the entire ship. It was a warm glow, not eerie. They were speaking casually. The conversation was light, about nameless subjects. She felt contented and at peace.
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