Lennon cleared her throat. “Sure, Maria, what do you need?”
“I just wanted to talk to someone, you know? To another woman.”
Lennon noticed an abnormal level of anxiety in Parker’s voice, so she turned to her and gave her full attention.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“There have been some things bothering me. You’re the medical officer, so I figured I could talk to you.” She looked at her hands and touched her fingers together.
“Of course.”
“This mission,” Parker started, “There are things that, well, have been kind of building up lately. I, uh, didn’t really think about how long it was going to be. I mean, I know, but to actually experience it…”
“Are you feeling homesick?”
“No. Yes. That’s not it. It’s just, well, there are four men on this ship.”
“So?”
“Do you really think that they can make it two and a half years without, you know, the comfort of a woman?” She looked up earnestly at Lennon, and her eyes moved in quick darting movements as she sought assessment from the other woman.
Lennon smiled. “I think they’ll be fine, Maria.”
“What if they aren’t? I mean, they outnumber us.”
“They have gone through extensive psychological testing. What you’re afraid of is not going to happen.”
“You’re a pretty woman, though, don’t you worry about it? I mean, you are blonde, and you are skinny. You are attractive. You haven’t thought about it?”
“Well, thank you, Parker, I appreciate the compliment. Yes, the thought has crossed my mind. Why wouldn’t it? However, people far smarter than us have done psychological studies and case analyses to ensure that the odds of any unexpected behavior are insignificant. Every crewmember has been the subject of an individual personality and behavior study. You know this. Is there something specific that you are worried about? Did something happen?”
Parker pursed her lips. “I caught Dish watching me when I was getting ready for a shower. I didn’t know he was there… I think he saw me naked.”
The shower was an interesting contraption. There was no gravity to pull water down, and it took some engineering work to make the shower function. Each crewmember was only able to shower once every three weeks, due to the strain on the recycler. It was not necessary to have them more often; the area was generally clean and a computerized regulator kept the ambient temperature at a comfortable level. In between showers, the crew would clean themselves with wet napkins. The way the shower worked was this: water jettisoned from the top of a large tube where the astronaut would “stand”. At the bottom of the tube was a vent that vacuumed water out. The shower worked, but it was nothing like the showers the crewmembers used on Earth.
Lennon asked, “You mean he accidentally saw you?”
“No.” Parker sighed. “I don’t know. He could have been waiting for me to undress.”
Lennon frowned. Any accusation, whether true or not, could have significant implications with a crew this small. However, she could not disregard the possibility of an infraction simply because it was unlikely or because it would disrupt the crew. She, just like anyone else on the crew, had a responsibility to investigate accusations of wrongdoing. “Maria, if you think he was doing something improper, you need to tell Colonel Quesen.”
She crossed her arms and huffed. “Queasy won’t do anything about it. You think he will believe me?”
“It doesn’t matter. If you don’t like something that happened, you need to do something about it.”
Parker shook her head and her body stiffened. “You know what, never mind. I’ll just wait and see if anything else happens.” She paused a moment, and then her body relaxed. “I’m just so tense right now! You’re probably right; it was just an accident.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “I am just really cranky right now. I think it is the food. I am so sick of it. I didn’t think it would be a problem, you know? It’s just that it’s been nearly a month and we have already tried almost every kind of food that we have. Now it is the same thing, over and over. You know what I want? A donut. Or a sopapilla. Ice cream would be nice.”
Lennon empathized strongly. She knew this would happen. On such a long trip, food will eventually become an issue. They could only store so much. “Stop, you’re making me hungry,” she said, smiling.
Parker groaned, “I would kill for a hamburger and fries.”
“Hang in there, Maria,” Lennon said, “I know it’s tough.”
She smiled. “Hey, I know you didn’t really do anything, but thanks. It helps to be able to vent. I think that’s really all I needed.” As she pulled herself out of the Atrium, she seemed relaxed than when she had entered.
Lennon smiled to herself. Maybe she could get the hang of this after all.
Day Twenty-Eight
One of the female rats was decidedly larger than the other rats. Lennon scrutinized it through the glass and smiled. She had named the rat Annie, after a person she knew in college. The rat’s mate, Melvin, had less of a story behind his name; Melvin was the first male name she could think of besides Michael. Lennon had six rats. The thought had crossed her mind to name them after the six crewmembers, but it only took a few seconds of thought to realize what a terrible idea that would have been.
Pregnant. At least, she hoped so. The rat certainly looked like it was expecting. “What did that Melvin do to you, Annie?” she spoke to the rat, smiling. Annie twitched her whiskers and sniffed up in the air, giving a contemptuous look that almost seemed like an answer to Lennon’s question.
Lennon’s goal was to breed several generations, if possible, and see the effects of microgravity on reproduction. Most likely, not a single baby would survive in space, based on past research. However, even if no offspring survived during the flight to Mars, there was a good chance that the female rats would get pregnant again and babies might survive on Mars itself. The relatively short lifespan of the adult rats would give invaluable information about possible long-term effects on humans that would settle on Mars.
She had kept the rats separate except for brief periods where she allowed specific “couples” together, under intermittent observation, hoping for mating to occur. It seemed as if she had gotten her wish. She watched Annie for a few minutes longer, until a loud bang commanded her attention. The sound was definitely not routine; first, the original noise sounded, and then vibrations that reverberated throughout the ship followed, making the bang almost sound like thunder. Concerned, she pushed her way out of the Atrium.
The sections of the spaceship connected to each other and formed a long tube. Depending on the viewer’s perspective, the arrangement could give the appearance of either a stretching hallway or a lofty tower. A few of the rooms, like the Box and Crew Quarters, had doors for either privacy or safety. The engineers purposely offset the rest of the section door openings to give a greater sense of space and privacy. However, that didn’t stop the crew from opening all of the doors and setting up deflectors to see if it was possible to bounce things from one end of the craft to the other—one of the many games the crew did out of boredom. On several occasions, the crew held races to see who could make it from one end to the other the fastest. Captain Petri usually won, although Lennon and Parker’s small size gave them a definite advantage when passing through the narrow doors. Aside from Crew Quarters and the Box, none of the other doors ever closed. There was only one reason to close them before reaching Mars: a contingency that might force the crew to seal off a section of the spacecraft. No one talked about it, because the types of contingencies that would force the crew to seal off part of the ship were contingencies that would require repairs on Earth… In other words, ones that the crew would not likely survive long enough to see resolved.
A ladder-like series of rungs went from one end to the other so that the crew could pull themselves from room to room. Lennon was using them to make her way int
o the ship’s flight deck. Due to the length of the mission and the communications delay, the flight deck doubled as the Command and Control room, which would normally be on Earth. Abrams referred to it as the “Bridge”. Mission Control followed suit whenever Star Trek fans were on duty. Everyone else called it “C2”, except during launch, when it became the “flight deck”. Since Abrams was the only Star Trek fan on crew, he made a point to call it the “Bridge” whenever he communicated with Mission Control. It was a little bit annoying, but it did not hurt anyone.
Lennon finally made it to C2 and poked her head inside the room. Abrams, the crease in his brow somehow appearing deeper than usual, was typing furiously on a computer keyboard, which was part of a tray that folded into the wall when the crew no longer needed to use it. He had hunched over in a manner that indicated an unusual level of stress. Matthews and Dish hovered over his shoulders, each with similar concern etched on their faces. Colonel Quesen approached the flight deck from the portal behind Lennon. “What’s going on?” he asked calmly, as he entered the room.
“It’s the high speed antenna,” answered Abrams curtly. “It lost power.”
“Did that bang have anything to do with it?”
“Dunno, sir, I’m checking sensors now, but it’s likely. Not one of the sensors is giving an alarm signal… hold on; I am getting a power malfunction alert on the antenna. ’Course, I just told you it was the antenna, so that doesn’t help much.”
“Dish, Matthews. Go to the Atrium. Check the camera,” commanded Colonel Quesen.
“Yes, sir,” they both chimed, and headed away. Lennon followed them.
“Where’s Parker?” she puffed, while pulling herself after Matthews and Dish.
“Who knows,” said Dish apathetically.
“I think she’s in the Box,” answered Matthews.
“The Box takes two people to operate,” the doctor noted.
“Not if she’s using the bike,” Matthews contested. He was right; normally, one crewmember would use the bike, which connected to pulleys and gears that would turn the arm of the Box for another crewmember. However, the operator of the bicycle could also disconnect the bike from the Box completely or attach it to a small electrical generator.
While it was possible for Parker to exercise by herself, it was unusual—mainly because it indicated that Parker was doing additional exercise beyond what was required. It was probably a good thing, and Lennon silently noted it.
“If you’re so worried, go find her,” said Dish, a little crossly.
Lennon passed through the Atrium so that she could check if Parker was in the Box. Parker was there, not in the Box itself, but in the room generally referred to as the Box. She was pedaling on the bike with her headphones on. She took them off when she saw Lennon.
The Mission Directorate had appointed a special committee to decide on matters of crew comfort items, specifically, any extra items allowed on the ship for the sole purpose of crew comfort and morale. In order to provide a reminder of home and to combat boredom, the committee issued each of the crewmembers an electronic book reader and a media player so that the astronauts could read, listen to music, or watch movies. In addition, several corporate sponsorships had allowed the crew to have their choice of any books, movies, or music that they desired until the devices were full. To get the most out of the devices, the crew had coordinated their chosen libraries with the intent to share after they became bored with their own. To recharge the devices, the crew could use the exercise bicycle to power a small generator. The media players got a lot of use, and the crew had an unwritten policy to charge them during the daily exercise routines so the batteries would be full and ready for use. It only took one day with a dead battery to end the behavior of someone who forgot this simple step. A completely dead battery would need several exercise sessions to be fully renewed, and a single day without the small comfort of the tiny devices was torture.
“Hey, Rebecca, what’s going on?” Parker asked.
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok. You didn’t hear that bang?”
“No, I didn’t hear anything. Is everything alright?”
How loud were her headphones? Lennon thought. “They are checking it out right now,” she answered.
“Ok. I’m about done. I’ll get cleaned up and over to C2 in a minute.”
Lennon went back to the Atrium, where Abrams had joined Queasy, Dish, and Matthews. He used the tips of his index finger and thumb to move a joystick, narrowing the view of the camera so it focused on the high-speed antenna. “See. There,” he said, jabbing at the screen with his finger. It left a small smudge on the screen, which annoyed Lennon greatly. Next to the smudge, the video feed showed a small dish antenna, which looked a lot like a home satellite dish. Even though Abrams had lifted his finger off the screen, he still pointed at the display, referencing a spot that was about two meters away from the dish on the ship’s hull.
“I don’t see anything,” Matthews said.
“Well, I’m telling you, it’s damaged,” Abrams huffed. His British accent was starting to come out again.
“What damaged it?”
Abrams shrugged. “Probably a micro-meteoroid.”
“Come on,” Dish interjected, “what are the odds of that?”
At high speed, particles that are normally too small to cause damage can be deadly. Famously, a speck of paint had once caused a quarter inch pit in the window of the space shuttle. “Out here,” Abrams spoke, “the odds are not very high. High enough, I suppose.” He jerked his head at the screen to make his point.
Matthews shook his head. “How do we fix it?”
“Well,” Abrams said, scratching his bearded chin, “With an EVA we would fix it for sure. It would take a couple hours.” An EVA is an Extra-Vehicular Activity, the technical term for a spacewalk.
“How else?” asked Queasy, dismissing the suggestion.
“Well, I could try to re-route power between the junctions here and here.” He tapped on the screen while he spoke, smudging it further. Lennon winced. He continued, “The only problem is that I can’t tell if the damage is on the junction or after it. If the junction itself is undamaged, I can access a feed from it and re-rout power from inside the ship. I’d have to pull the condenser and do some resistance tests from the battery bank to see if the junction is damaged or not.”
“Is it hard to remove the condenser?”
“No, not as hard as an EVA. Not as dangerous, either. That kind of fix won’t be as sturdy, though. Might be a flaky connection.”
“What comms do we have?”
“Without the high speed? Text only. It won’t be real-time. It will be like SMS on a cell phone. If we have low-speed communications only, we have to hijack existing bus messages and modify them with our own text if we want to transmit human communications. Because of this workaround, messages would be limited to two hundred and forty characters with an additional sixteen character header reserved for system data.”
Col Quesen breathed deeply. “Alright. Hold off on repairs and come with me. I am going to message Earth C2 over low-speed and see what they recommend.” He headed back to the Bridge, followed by Abrams.
“Does this mean I can’t send a message to my family?” It was Parker, hovering in the ‘far’ doorway of the Atrium. The far door was the one that led to Crew Quarters and the Gearbox.
“I don’t know, Parker,” said Dish, uncompassionate.
She turned and disappeared. Dish shook his head. “I swear,” he muttered. “That girl drives me batty sometimes.”
Lennon watched as Dish exited. As soon she was alone, Lennon scrubbed the screen clean.
The crew sat around the table eating, even though for the most part, the table was unnecessary. To save space, the table could fold up into the wall. If Lennon were not around to continually remind them of the psychological benefits created by the act of eating around a table, they would probably stop folding it down altogether.
“What do we
do if someone is making one of us really angry?” Dish asked suddenly.
“Is someone making you angry?” asked Col. Quesen, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, no, but it’s a long trip. Someone’s bound to get upset.”
“It’s interesting that you bring that up, Dish,” said Parker, lifting her chin slightly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Parker shrugged.
Dish gave Parker a long stare and then turned his attention to the rest of the crew. “Anyways, what do we do? There ain’t a jail or anything. It’s not like we can send someone to timeout if they’re bad.”
“If a person is angry, that doesn’t necessarily make the protagonist bad,” offered Lennon.
“No, but what if someone commits a crime?”
“You went to training with us, Justin,” explained the commander, in a patient tone, as if talking to a child. “If necessary, we can impose loss of privileges or extra duties.”
“Like takin’ my iPod?”
“Yes, Dish, what are you getting at?”
“I just wanna know how to deal if someone is naughty.” He winked at Parker.
“What if one of us kills the other?” shot Parker, with a harsh glare.
“You got somethin’ to say, say it, Parker,” shouted Dish.
Queasy sighed. “All right, you two, get it out. What is going on?”
“I caught him looking at me when I went to take a shower,” announced Parker.
“That was an accident and you know it,” retorted Dish. “What is it with you? I thought we were getting along pretty well.”
Queasy waved his hand. “Would it make everyone more comfortable if we had a specific plan for the remote possibility of a crime being committed?”
“Well I was just makin’ conversation but maybe we really should,” answered Dish, sulking.
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