“Alright, sounds simple enough. How much more LOX do we need?”
“Oh, eight tons or so.”
“And we have enough time left to make that much?”
“Yeah. We got kind of a slow start owing to the dust storm, but we should have a couple months to spare. If NASA had been doing this, they would have sent adequate tankage up two years ago and started making all the necessary methane and LOX back then. But due to our short schedule and limited launch vehicles it just wasn’t logistically possible. But we’ll make it. We’ll be fine.”
#
Abby called out. “Hey Jeff? You better come see this.”
He got up from the desk in his room, entered the commons, and found her seated at the comm terminal. “What?”
“We’ve got at least a 20% dropout rate in data packets from Earth. Owing to our compression scheme, text and data are so garbled, it’s essentially unreadable.”
“So we’re there, huh?”
“It seems so.”
Mars would be in solar conjunction – on the opposite side of the sun from Earth – in nine days, and unusually high solar activity so close to their transmission line-of-sight was corrupting data transmission in both directions. “Okay, well, a couple weeks of peace and quiet.”
“Yeah.”
“Send an uncompressed plain text message to Newport, UHF, in triplicate. Hopefully someone will be able to make some sense of it.”
“Okay. What?”
“Everybody take a vacation. Talk to you in a couple weeks.”
Saturday, August 5, 2017
MSD 51045.986 (Sol 295)
Gabe slowly and awkwardly started to get up from the sofa. “I’ll be right back.” She rubbed her ballooned tummy. “There’s not much room left in here for a bladder.”
They were all sitting in the commons watching Red Planet.
Jeff gave her a helping hand. “Want me to pause it?”
“No, go ahead, I’ve seen it. And I still think they’d have a lot better radiation shielding on a ship that big, advanced, and expensive.”
He grinned and shook his head. “It’s a movie, Gabe, they had to have a plot. Artistic license.”
“Yeah, okay, so they were stupid. In any case, that was Sojourner that they gutted to make their little radio. So, if they landed that close to Pathfinder, what cliffs and canyons are those? There’s nothing like that within 300 kilometers of that site.”
Jeff shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe they landed in a crater.”
“What crater? Does that look like a crater? Besides, there isn’t one that big up there. And if they did, how’d they get out? You see them roll down those huge cliffs when they land, and there are obviously more below them because Santen falls off one. But you never see them climbing back up. What’s that all about? Looks more like they landed in the Valles Marineris. But that’s over 2,000 kilometers from Pathfinder.”
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you need to use the bathroom?” He pointed to the right. “It’s that way.”
“Oh, yeah.” As she reached the hatch, Gabe stopped and grimaced. “Oh, ouch.”
Abby groaned and jumped up. “I’ll get it, I’m closest. God, it’s like having a demanding pet cat.” Reaching Gabe, she began rubbing her lower back. “Better?”
“Yeah, thanks. Oh, that hurts.”
Susan glanced at her. “How long?”
Gabe looked at her watch. “Sixteen minutes.”
“Great, you’re making progress. Contractions getting a little stronger and longer?”
Gabe grimaced. “Yes, thank you very much. How much longer?”
“Well, you went into labor about three hours ago so, I dunno, five hours? Something like that.”
“Oh god,” she whimpered, “I’m tired.”
“I know, but you’re doing fine.”
After about forty seconds Gabe sighed and took a deep breath. “Ah, thanks. That’s good. Okay, I’ll be back in a minute,” and she disappeared through the hatch.
“How’s she doing?” Jeff asked.
Susan smiled and nodded. “Great. Textbook. She’s young, strong, fit. I don’t know who’s looking over us, but we need to thank them.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yeah, very. Look, I know it’s early but it’s liable to be a long night. If either of you think you can get a little sleep, you might want to try. We can stay up with her in shifts. She’s not likely to sleep much and she shouldn’t be lying down.”
Abby shook her head. “I’m good.”
Jeff nodded. “Me too.” He grinned. “If folks on Earth knew what was going on here I doubt many of them would be sleeping either.”
Abby laughed, “It’ll be a game changer alright.”
“Yeah.”
Gabe returned to the commons and headed for the sofa.
“No,” said Susan, “you’ve got to start walking again.”
Gabe groaned. “But I’m tired.”
“I know. But gravity is what moves this process along and we don’t have a whole lot of it here. It gets the baby down into position and it’ll be faster and less painful.”
“Yes, you’ve told me that a thousand times.”
“Now don’t exaggerate, I’m sure I haven’t told you more than 900 times.”
Gabe rubbed her head and chuckled.
Jeff got up. “Come on, we’ve got that nice track opened up for you in the greenhouse, I’ll walk with you.”
Gabe nodded. “Okay.”
As they started for the greenhouse Abby called to Gabe, “Have you decided on a name yet?”
Gabe shook her head. “I thought I had one an hour ago, but changed my mind. I just don’t know.”
“Uh huh. I can see the announcements now: Jeff and Gabe announce the birth of their child… what’s its name.”
Gabe sighed. “I’m working on it.” As Jeff and Gabe stepped into the greenhouse, she said, “When I see our daughter, I’ll know what her name is.”
“You’re still sure it’s a girl?”
“Uh huh. I don’t know how, but I just know.”
As they begin walking around the outer perimeter of the greenhouse Gabe shivered.
“Cold?”
“Yeah, a little.”
It was approaching 2300 local time, mid-autumn, and the temperature outside was nearing -100ºF. The path around the greenhouse was lit by LEDs but otherwise there was nothing but starlight and, on this night, the dim light of Phobos and Deimos, both moons ascending.
Jeff put his arm around her. “I’ll turn up the thermostat on our next pass.”
“Thanks.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“Um…” she gazed off into the darkness, “… are you glad it was me?”
Jeff stopped in his tracks and pulled Gabe around to him. “Yes. I thought you knew that.”
“I guess I just needed to hear it.”
Gabe suddenly gasped and grabbed her rather large belly. “Oh… gosh.”
“Contraction?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Breathe.”
Gabe began breathing rapidly, in though her nose, out through her mouth, and reset the stopwatch on her Speedmaster.
Jeff gave her time to get past it, then asked, “How long?”
“That one was nearly a minute. Wow, that hurt.”
“How long since the last?”
“Uh, fifteen minutes. Oh boy, they’re getting closer and stronger.”
Jeff smiled. “That’s the way it works.”
“Yeah. Next time you do it.”
Jeff grinned. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
Two hours later, Susan stood from the exam table, pulled down Gabe’s nightgown, and patted her knee. “Okay, seven centimeters. Go walk some more.”
Gabe groaned. “Oh, god, do I have to? I’m tired.”
“Yes, you have to. You’ve been progressing a lit
tle slowly. Friedman’s Curve says dilation should progress at 1.2 centimeters per hour for at least two hours. You’re averaging about 1.1 centimeters per hour, and our hour is a little longer than what Friedman’s watch said. It’s progress, but a little slow. Go walk.”
Sunday, August 6, 2017
MSD 51046.195 (Sol 296)
“Come on Gabe, push!” said Susan.
Gabe was squatting naked on the floor, panting. “I am pushing! Oh god!”
Jeff knelt behind Gabe, his arms wrapped around her and breathing along with her. “Come on, push it out. You’re almost there.”
“Aaaaagh!” Gabe screamed.
Susan cradled the newborn child onto the floor. “Ah, there we go. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Gabe, utterly exhausted, collapsed back into Jeff’s arms.
“Abby, mark the time and start your stopwatch.”
Abby nodded, then handed Susan a warm damp washcloth.
“Got it. Thanks.” She syringed the child’s nostrils as it wailed, wiped it off a bit, and handed the newborn to Gabe. “Gabriel, here’s your little girl. Hold her close and bond for a while.”
Gabe took the child and held her to her bosom.
Jeff peered over Gabe’s shoulder. “Was it worth it?”
She stared at her child and nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Then, looking up at Jeff, “Thank you.”
Jeff kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around both of them.
Abby threw a couple light blankets she’d warmed in the clothes dryer over Gabe and her baby.
Susan sat back on the floor, took a deep breath then turned to Abby, smiled, and gave her a thumb up. “Did you get the time?”
Abby grinned and nodded. “Yeah. 3:41, on the dot.”
“Gabe, just hold her to you. She’ll eventually get around to seeking a breast and some food. It’s instinctive. I’ll get an Apgar in a minute or so, give her a shot of vitamin K, then in a couple minutes I’ll clamp off and cut the umbilical cord. You just lay back, relax, and let nature take its course.”
Gabe held the child to her breast and the young girl nuzzled her mother.”
Susan smiled. “That’s a good sign.” She allowed mother and child to bond for a minute, then said, “Alright, let’s get on with this.”
“Get on with what?” said Gabe.
“I need to get an Apgar. You just hold her like that.” Susan pulled the warm blankets down a bit, took the child’s pulse, listened to her heart and lungs, examined her, fiddled about, and gave her the vitamin K shot.
The child wailed.
“You’re making her cry,” said Gabe.
“That, in part, is the idea. If she doesn’t cry, something’s wrong.”
“Well, she’s crying, now stop it.”
Susan chuckled. “Wuss. Trust me, it won’t be the last time. Abby, tell me when it’s been three minutes.”
“Okay.”
At three minutes Susan clamped, tied, and cut the umbilical cord, then covered Gabe and her child again. “Okay, why don’t you and yours just lie down here and rest for a while. You should expel the placenta in ten minutes or so. After that, if you’re feeling up to it, we can move you into your room.”
“What’s the vitamin K for?” said Jeff.
“Babies are born with a vitamin K deficiency and there’s not much in breast milk. In rare cases this can result in bleeding which can be severe, even life threatening. So for more than 50 years the American Academy of Pediatrics has recommend administration of a small dose of vitamin K shortly after birth. It dramatically reduces the likelihood of bleeding.”
“Got it. Apgar?”
“A perfect ten. With our elevated CO2 level, I thought for sure there would be at least some sign of cyanosis, but no. Maybe she’s used to it just as we are.”
Jeff nodded and helped Gabe lay down on the floor. He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Perfect.”
Gabe grinned. “Yes she is.”
“Alright,” said Abby, “so what is her name?”
Gabe leaned over and kissed her daughter. “Her name is… Margherita Concordia Grey.”
#
“They asleep?” Abby asked.
Jeff nodded, entering the commons from Gabe’s room and gently closing the hatch behind him. “Yeah.”
“Where’s Sue?”
Jeff smiled. “In there with them, sound asleep on the sofa.”
Abby chuckled. “It’s been a long night all around.”
“Yeah, sure has.”
“How are you holding up?”
Jeff laughed. “Oh boy, I may not be able to sleep for a week. Talk about a ‘natural high’, wow.” He slowly shook his head. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”
“I guess maybe one of us should have told you, you don’t have to come to Mars to have a kid.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “What a chain of events.”
“Okay, so, you want to explain her name to me?”
Jeff grinned, “What? You haven’t figured that one out?”
“No. I’m sure it has some deep significance, but it’s beyond me.”
“Ah, okay. Well, Margherita obviously refers to where we are, and it’s derived from the Greek word for pearl – margaron. Concordia, in Roman mythology, was the goddess of agreement, understanding and marital harmony.”
“Hmmm, sounds like a wuss.”
Jeff laughed. “Well, maybe. But she was also the daughter of the Roman gods of love and war – Venus and Mars. So, Margherita Concordia: pearl, daughter of Mars.”
“Huh. I’ll be damned. Now that’s cool. Pearl, daughter of Mars; well, she is all that.”
“Indeed she is.”
“And it took Gabe months to settle on that one?”
“Well, you know Gabe.”
“Yeah, I sure do. And you came up with that?”
“Yeah. It was just a suggestion. I left it up to her.”
“Did you have to explain it to her?”
“Yeah, mythology isn’t her strong suit.”
“How’d you think of it?”
“The Margherita part was pretty easy. Concordia? I dunno, probably something I read in college or high school. It just came to me.”
“How do you spell it? Like the cocktail?”
“No, it’s M-a-r-g-h-e-r-i-t-a, the Italian spelling; both to distinguish her from the cocktail and, since Concordia was a Roman goddess and Rome is in Italy, it just seemed to make more sense that way.”
“Huh. It’s kind of a mouthful. Does she have a nickname?”
“Yeah. Ghita.”
Abby grinned. “Hey, now I like that.”
Monday, August 7, 2017
MSD 51047.945 (Sol 297)
Jeff slowly walked around the greenhouse, hoping to get Ghita to fall asleep, and give Gabe a rest.
“Hey boss?” Abby softly interrupted from the airlock.
“Yeah?”
“Chrissie wants to know if we want the transcript from the press conference or the whole video?”
“What do you think?”
“Jeez, I want to see the video.”
“Yeah, me too. How big’s the file?”
“She says it’s about 175 megabytes.”
“Jesus, what’d they do, tape it in HiDef?”
“I dunno.”
“How long will that take to upload?”
“At this data rate? Oh, maybe 8 or 10 minutes.”
“Ouch. That won’t make the folks at the DSN happy. Eh, screw ‘em, tell her to send it.”
“You got it. How’s the rug rat doing?”
Jeff grinned. “The rug rat is well, thanks for asking. Her belly is full and I’m just trying to get her to go to sleep to give mom a rest and let me get some work done.”
“Just to reiterate, Aunt Abby and Aunt Susan are available seven by twenty-four to help out.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks. Eh, call it a paternal thing, I’ll get over
it.”
“No, you won’t.”
Jeff grinned. “No, I won’t. Thanks, Abby. I’ll let you know.” He continued slowly walking around the greenhouse for another fifteen minutes or so, noting the finer points of Martian agriculture to Ghita until she finally fell asleep. He kissed her forehead and smiled softly. “Yeah, I bore me too.” Jeff quietly walked through the habitat and into Gabe’s room where he gently laid Ghita in the crib.
Gabe glanced up at him and whispered, “Is she asleep?”
Jeff smiled. “Yeah. And you go back to sleep.”
“Thanks for walking her.”
“No problem. Get some sleep.”
“Okay. Has the press conference video arrived yet?”
“No. Probably be a couple more hours before we get an antenna.”
“I want to see it. When it gets here, get me up.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, get me up. I want to see it.”
“Okay, I’ll get you up. Now, go to sleep.”
Monday, August 7, 2017
MSD 51047.980 (Sol 297)
Grey Aerospace Press Conference: 1:00 PM EDT 8/7/17.
Chrissie addressed a roomful of reporters. “Good afternoon everyone. Thank you for coming on such short notice. And thank you to WPRI here in Providence for making their facilities available to us for this briefing. As most of you know, owing to Mars being in solar conjunction – that is, being on the opposite side of the sun from Earth – for the most part we have been out of communication with Mars since July 17th, almost three weeks. I’m pleased to announce that at 5:31 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time yesterday afternoon, we reestablished contact with our team on Mars. And, much to our relief, everyone is fine. In fact, they’ve had a very quiet three weeks, not having to jump up and answer the phone every fifteen minutes.
Jeff laughed. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“Though we do have communications, they are, uh, slow, owing to high solar radiation levels as a result of the sun’s position so close to our transmission line-of-sight and unusually high solar flare activity. We as yet do not have communications on our high-speed Ka-band transceivers, we’re operating at present on the slower speed X-band and, even there, our data rate is only about half what we normally hope for; about three megabits per second. Further, owing to the fact that Mars is presently about 247 million miles from Earth, communications take a little over twenty-two minutes each way. So, just a round-trip ‘hello’ takes about three-quarters of an hour. And, we have a lot of data to transmit in both directions. That combined with time-sharing on the Deep Space Network means that it will be a couple days before we have a full and complete update from the Margaritifer Basin covering events of the past three weeks.
Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) Page 91
