Lewis tried to read the director’s expression. The task was impossible in the dimmed room. “Static, I’d say. If you’ve seen it once, it isn’t worth it to see it again.”
“Not static, Mr. Kosmatka,” Ramirez said. “Derb Town keeps growing. More little piles of dirt, swelling like warts right next to our property. What do you propose to do about that?”
Lewis began to pace before Ramirez’s desk. “How can we pull this resort out of the red? That’s the real question.”
“If we get rid of Derb Town, our old clientele will return.”
Lewis raised his finger. “Derb Town is a problem, I agree, but do we want our old clientele back? Who makes up Derb Town?”
“Human refuse—”
Lewis held up his hand. “Former guests who bet their return ticket in the casinos. Even though it wasn’t allowed.”
“Some of them, yes,” Ramirez said defensively. “But some have dropped out of the Science Base, and the rest are jettisons from Derb Town’s own cut-rate tourist traffic.”
“But who were the original Derb Towners? Our guests.” And fired employees, thought Lewis, who refused to forfeit their severance pay to cover their passage home.
“Basically, Mr. Ramirez, they were people with more money than sense. We did this to ourselves. They lost their fortunes and stayed on the lunar surface too long. They didn’t bother with the medical treatments, because they couldn’t afford it. Eventually they were stuck here with weak bones and shrunken hearts.”
“We know all this!” Ramirez twitched out of his chair like a beetle. He slapped his open palms on the polished obsidian desktop. “You give me some solutions. That’s what you’re paid for.”
“Okay. We’ve tried to cut them off from Earthside supplies, but they make do with salvage and garbage.”
“Like cockroaches. Then they undermine our business with their cheap domebrew vodka and make enough money to buy their own landers.” Ramirez had turned to kneejerk reactions. The man, a legend in the industry, had climbed to his position because of the New Moonstruck Dome. He wasn’t thinking creatively because this was his baby. And Lewis was threatening his baby.
Lewis needed to steer the conversation away from the touchy point of Derb Town. Cautiously, he began, “And that’s the point. We need to show a profit. All they have to do is survive. Besides, the root of our problem isn’t the Derb Towners. They’ve already done the damage. Their cut-rate holiday packages have changed the whole concept of vacationing off planet. The Moon is passé.” Lewis paused until Ramirez was about to say something and then interrupted. “The science base is the key to our dilemma.”
Incredulous, Ramirez frowned. “Are you joking? They don’t make enough to afford our prices. Hell, they’ve been on the Towners’ side from the start. All they do is complain about golf balls whacking into their antennae, and the pollution of their so-called lunar atmosphere. Their protests kept us from deporting those Towners. And of all things, they have the gall to call them colonists!”
“It’s time to move away from tactics and start looking at an overall strategy. We’ve got to target a different consumer. Money alone isn’t sufficient criteria to be our guests. You see what’s resulted from being indiscriminate. No, we need to get the glitterati. The Hollywood dynasties, old computer money, established aristocracy. Exclusivity is our solution.”
“But the Moon is passé,” Ramirez said dropping into his chair. He narrowed his eyes at Lewis. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“Correct. So, we learn from our mistakes. Move further out where Derb Town won’t follow.” Lewis waited. He wanted Ramirez to ask where they could move. Finally, when Ramirez turned up his hands in question, Lewis said. “Mars.” Then before his boss could respond or protest, he launched into his sales pitch. “Multi-year vacations. Champagne cruises on luxury liners. Terraformed habitations. None of this casino and health spa pretension. No. What we focus on is a trip so exclusive, that only the rich—and, most importantly—the powerful make our select invitation list. Exclusivity breeds desire among the glitterati!”
“How can we—”
Lewis waved off Ramirez question before he could continue. “A science base has been established on the Martian surface for ten years now. Quarterly cargo shipments are launched from here, and we can lease shipping containers from them. It’s ours for the taking. If we start work on the liner and at the same time send a team to Mars to establish this Ultimate Resort, we can show profits in three years.”
“Three years?”
“Do you see enough profit here?” Lewis waited for any reaction from the director.
After a moment, Ramirez grunted. “I’ll give you the go-ahead.”
“Excellent. Now I have a list of candidates to head up the operation.”
“No,” Ramirez said emphatically, “you’ll be directly accountable to the stockholders.” Ramirez emphasized the word “stockholders” with the same dread tone as if he had mentioned the Tong or the Ukrainian mafia. “You will spearhead this mission.”
“I can’t go!” Lewis protested. “I’m an ideas man. Here. Back on Earth!”
“Who else would have the same personal interest in seeing this project through to a profitable end?”
A single phone call from Ramirez’s desk put Lewis in charge of the Ultimate Resort Project. No longer a matter of profit shares, the project had become a point of survival for Lewis. He would have to work a miracle on Mars like he had in Manitoba or else his career would be over.
“This landing area is nowhere near the UN research station?” Lewis asked as the captain guided the lander toward the ruddy surface of Mars. He strained forward against the straps to see the schematic display of their descent on the control panel.
“You’ve kept out of the way so far. Don’t screw it up now,” the captain replied. She was a square-jawed woman who exuded a military disdain for civilian executives. “We’ll be landing where we agreed.”
Lewis wanted to point out that he had personally selected her for this position. He was responsible for her opportunity to go to Mars and for setting up the bonus schedule for the crew. But he knew by protesting that he would only show how useless he really felt, so he sulked in his flight couch for the rest of the landing.
They set down on Sinai Planum, within walking distance of Valles Marineris, the largest known canyon system on any visited planet. Lewis didn’t join the rest of the crew on their excursion to the lip of the canyon. He feared actually seeing the landscape would dull the mystic edge he planned to use for copy on the advertising campaign. It was just a big hole surrounded with red ground after all.
Once out of the lander and in the dilute Martian atmosphere, Lewis faced a world of total desolation. Earth, as a reminder of life existing outside of carbon composite and metal suits, would never glow its blue and white face in the night sky. Earth now was lost, nothing more than a bright speck among other anonymous bright specks. Lewis had wagered his entire future existence on this wild venture. Unlike with Derb Town on the Moon, no subculture had grown here that would accept him should he fail. This planet was truly a frontier. All that would exist here was what they could construct. He climbed back inside the lander when his feet became cold.
“Mr. Kosmatka?” asked one of the crew less than an hour later. “Could you move your stuff into the shelter?”
Lewis looked up from his flight couch. “You’ve got it set up already? Rad hardened and reinforced?”
“Yeah,” the crewman said. “It’s a little design we picked up from Derb Town.”
The lander ferried the engineering teams down to the makeshift habitation. Lewis shot PR footage of the construction of the temporary base, keeping out of the work. His job of selling the concept to the glitterati would begin soon enough. He smiled to himself. Who could refuse a personal call from Mars?
“What do you mean the water extraction plant is behind schedule? Look, we’ve got very important guests showing up in a month. A month! Th
ey’ve already launched from the Moon. They can’t just turn back because we’re not ready. They’ll be expecting hot showers and a full swimming pool when they arrive. If you need a part, send someone up to the science base and see if they have a spare.” Lewis, with an impulsive stab of a finger, deleted the engineer’s image on his video screen, then turned away.
He returned to preparing a secret report on their progress at his tiny workstation. He added a suggestion on excursions to the Viking, Pathfinder, and Curiosity landing areas, as well as ski trips to Olympus Mons for aristocrats fond of adventure. They would shuttle CO2 down from the north cap and rig a sprayer of some kind. He paused the recording when he heard a knock on his door.
One of the dome specialists poked his head into his private cubicle. “Mr. Kosmatka, there is a gentleman in the airlock. He claims to be from a settlement up on Chryse Planitia.”
“What settlement?!” Lewis turned to the view screen to look at the visitor.
A vaguely puffy face in a helmet stared back at him. The man wore a quilted and dyed pressure suit. “We’ve been expecting you.”
“Are you from the UN station?” Lewis asked.
“No … not exactly.” The man turned away and looked out of the airlock towards the work crew clearing rocks. “Looks like you’re planning on being here a while. I wonder if I could interest you in some Ornamental Lawn Martians.” The man lifted a small statuette with a large nose and pockmarked skin into the view of the airlock camera.
DESCENT
Mark Isherwood
Voyages no matter how long, have an end. Commander Carla Rodriguez looked out of the window on the command deck of the spaceship, Constellation. They’d been in orbit for a few days now, but as she looked out the window, she just couldn’t get used to the view. The sun was rising over the red brown surface of Mars. It was huge. The sun rippling throughout the cabin, bathed Rodriguez and her two man crew in light.
“Ok guys, turn off the communications back to Earth for a moment.”
The two men who shared the cabin turned to her. Chen, Carla’s Mars Lander pilot, nodded and pushed a button. “Done,” he said.
Carla cleared her throat, “I know you both know this, but what we are about to do will go down in history. We are the first people to make it to Mars—if we can land safely and explore. Only then will we have fully completed this mission. Years and billions of dollars of investment will have paid off, all with a global audience listening in to us. No pressure.” She grinned at her fellow astronauts.
Both men returned her smile.
Lieutenant Oleg, Constellation’s Russian pilot, spoke. “Well boss, we’re ready. The unmanned probe will go on your command.”
“Roger that,” she replied. “And the Mars Lander, Chen?”
“I am completely confident Lander will deploy as planned, Captain.”
“Check,” Carla said, then added, “the only thing….”
The men looked up from their controls, intent, as they waited for her to continue. She paused as she collected her thoughts. “We’ve spent enough time together now, and I probably know more about you two than is perhaps good for any of us. I guess what I’m trying to say is that what ever happens next, I trust you both. And whatever happens, I’m in your corner.”
“Group hug?” Oleg laughed.
“Lieutenant, turn the communications to Earth back on and land that probe.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The astronauts each turned back into their positions, busily checking their instruments.
Watching the men, Carla grinned before turning to her own monitor and growing serious. “Deploy probe,” she ordered.
“Probe deployed, Captain.” The small metallic device detached from the Constellation. Instantly, its engines fired, separating it from the mothership. It fell quickly towards the red planet below.
After a short while, the probe’s engines shut down and the breaking retro rockets fired. Lander tilted and adjusted itself to the correct angle for the descent onto Mar as Earth’s sixty-two percent normal gravity started to tug at the probe. The heat shield on the craft’s underside glowed, and over the next three minutes decelerated from 16,300 miles per hour to 900. The heat shield ejected and three dark grey parachutes opened, dropping the speed even further. Then the parachutes and small manoeuvring engines stabilised the probe. It hovered above the uneven boulder strewn surface.
Retro fires adjusted the attitude and direction of the craft. Then the artificial intelligence, the heart of the probe’s guidance system, activated for the final descent to the surface. Hovering over a flat boulderless plain, the Lander, its struts outstretched, slowly descended the last few metres onto Mars. The engines disengaged. An antenna fanned out slowly like an opening flower in the morning sun. It was ready.
Above, in the orbiting mother ship, Carla, Oleg, and Chen waited expectantly for the first signal from the Mars surface.
“The probe is down. All systems nominal. Surface temperature twenty degrees Celsius. Toasty. At least for Mars,” announced Oleg. Oleg was always cheerful, which was one of the reasons he was picked for the first manned Mars mission. That, and his brilliance as a test pilot with the Russian Air Force.
“Can you give me some visuals on the landing site?” asked Carla.
“Yes, Commander.” Oleg activated a large wall monitor. In an instant, colour footage of Mars appeared. For a while, none of them spoke while they took in the view of the strange, dead alien world full of broken boulders and pastel colours. They had all seen photos and video footage of Mars from the many unmanned missions that had gone before over the last century, but it wasn’t the same as viewing it from their vantage point poised in orbit directly above the planet.
Carla broke the silence, “Perfect. Looks nice and flat.”
“Yes, Commander. Wind speed twenty miles an hour. Reasonable.”
“Excellent. Stand by for Chen and I to board the Mars Lander. How is the inbound cargo ship?” she added.
Chen headed to the Lander as Oleg replied. “All okay, Commander. The unmanned cargo ship and our Mars habitat from Earth will come down on your beacon seventy-two hours from now. Everything is on schedule.”
“Ok. Chen, on my way. Are you ready to go?”
A faint crackle erupted over the radio, followed by the clear male voice of the Chinese Lander pilot. “In harness and ready to go when you are Commander.”
“I’m on my way.” Carla unstrapped her buckles from the command chair and floated in Zero G towards her cosmonaut compatriot. Oleg put his hand out to shake his American commander’s hand.
He grinned, “Make sure you and Chen park the Lander gently. The paint work is new.”
Carla smiled back at him and shook his hand, “Take care, Oleg. You’re on your own now.”
“You know me.” Oleg winked at Carla. “Chosen for my easy going temperament and ability to function in isolation of others. At least that’s what the psychological profile said.”
She raised her eyebrows in mock exasperation. After six months together, the assumptions in their psychological reports had been well tested. Carla patted Oleg on the shoulder, “See you in two weeks.” She floated down a series of metallic corridors and opened the hatch separating the ship from the Lander. After resealing the hatch, she floated into the Mars Lander and took her seat next to Chen.
“Glad you could join me, Commander.” Chen watched Carla strap herself in. With the last buckle in place, Chen reached over and tugged at her harness. In return, Carla checked Chen’s buckles. As they’d learned during training, tired people sometimes missed steps, and in the harsh environment of space, missing a step could be fatal.
“Good to go, Chen. Let’s go through our pre-flight checklist.”
“Roger that,” Chen agreed.
Meanwhile on the Constellation command deck, Oleg carefully reviewed his flight plan. On the back wall, unnoticed, the television feed from earth showed a female CNN news anchor speaking to the camera.
/> “We now have confirmation,” the reporter stated, “that the probe has successfully landed on Mars and that the next stage of the landing is proceeding. Commander Carla Rodriquez of the United States, and Lieutenant Chen Li of the People’s Republic of China are now preparing the Lander to follow the beacon down to the surface of Mars. Once there, Commander Rodriquez will be the first human to walk on Mars. Then she will proceed to the next crucial step—preparing the set up and the beacon for the unmanned cargo ship, which launched from the International Space Station seventy-two hours after the initial launch of Constellation. This ship contains supplies, the astronaut’s habitat, a Mars flyer, and two Mars rovers. We’ll keep you up to date on progress as soon as we have any news. From Mission Control, Houston, I’m Kirsty Attwood.”
Inside the cramped environment of the Lander, Carla and Chen were busy with preflight checks. Both worked noiselessly and methodically checking off the list of tasks, which they had endlessly simulated on Earth during training, and which now were second nature. Simultaneously, they completed their tasks.
“All systems checked.”
“We are a go,” Carla finished for Chen.
He grinned at her. “When you are ready, Commander.”
“All yours, Lieutenant.”
“Mars Lander to Constellation. We are ready. All systems are go.”
Oleg replied, “Roger, Lander. Landing sequence initiated. Ten seconds to uncoupling. Ten, nine, eight … three, two, one. Lander detached.” A slight bump and Mars Lander was free.
“Roger that,” said Carla. “Detached and free floating.” The automated systems fired, and the first retro rockets propelled Lander away from Constellation. As the distance between Lander and Constellation increased, Carla felt a strange sense of loss as she watched what had been her home for six months move further and further away. She hoped the next time she saw that view, it would be while returning in triumph safe and sound from the surface.
Mission Mars Page 8
