Colony Mars Ultimate Edition

by Gerald M. Kilby

  VanHoff looked at his watch, time for the board to convene. Who could he trust? Initially he had considered that Rick Mannersman might be a problem. But the media frenzy surrounding the discovery was keeping him very busy—at the center of attention. The fact that Mannersman was motivated simply by greed and self-aggrandizement meant he was relatively easy to manipulate, as long as he was distracted. Most of the others were inconsequential and easy to handle. But could they be relied on if tough decisions were required?

  Leon Maximus, on the other hand, Peter admired. He was motivated by a seemingly sincere desire to advance human civilization. To make it an interplanetary species. To establish a Planet B, as he liked to call it. He was a rare breed indeed. None of this would have been possible if were not for him and his genius. His company had developed the rocket technology to get the first colonists to Mars. Still, it was a slow tedious process. It was an eight month trip and, with the way the planets orbited each other, a tight two year launch window.

  In the end, it was Leon’s near maniacal insistence on the research and development of an exotic device known as an EM Drive that changed the numbers. A bizarre contraption that defied normal engineering convention. As far as Peter understood, it was essentially a microwave in a cone shaped box. How it worked nobody could really explain to him without delving in to the realms of quantum physics. Ultimately, it was an extraordinary breakthrough. Here was a simple engine, with no moving parts, not subjected to enormous forces, that worked simply by electricity. With enough solar panels strapped to your spaceship you could have thrust on tap any time you wanted. Swap the solar panels with a small nuclear reactor and all of a sudden space became a much smaller place.

  This radically changed the nature of a mission to Mars and ultimately the economics of Colony One. The journey time went from over eight months to just under seventy days. Now more missions could be sent: more supplies, more equipment, more colonists. And, coupled with Leon’s inspired reusable main stage design, it came in at a fraction of the initial cost.

  Nonetheless, after a few short years and twenty odd colonists later, the excitement was beginning to fade and COM was finding it hard to generate revenue from the media rights alone. This was when Peter VanHoff entered the scene. But he was not interested in some grand vision for humanity. That, he left to the dreamers. No, it was his passion for genetic research and his quest to crack the complex process of aging that involved him in the COM consortium. He realized early on that there were things one could do on Mars that were simply not ethically possible on Earth. Particularly in the area of xeno-combinant genetic research and genome manipulation. And, as a bonus, there were a great many corporations willing to pay good money for the ability to do this, far from the prying eyes of legal scrutiny. So he convinced Leon Maximus and the others in COM of the opportunity for building such a biotech research facility. With failing media revenues due to faltering public interest, they had really no other option. They bought into it and Peter VanHoff took effective control of COM.

  He put the report away, stood and looked out across the snow capped mountains in the distance. His mind considered the implications of this report from Romanov. It was full with possibility, uncertainty and not a little danger. They would need to tread carefully. He shook his head and walked back into his study and touched the controls on the holo-tablet. A small illuminated screen materialized in midair, less than an arm’s reach in front of him. It moved as he moved. He reached out and touched a virtual icon on the screen. Several avatar symbols appeared and floated in the space before him, one for each member of the board. They arrayed themselves around Peter VanHoff’s field of vision like dead relatives in a Victorian séance. The meeting was about to begin.

  “Good evening gentlemen.” There was a collective murmuring of greetings and acknowledgments as the ghostly figures moved and shifted in the space before him. Peter VanHoff continued. “You all know by now that the crew of the ISA Mars mission have successfully landed on the planet’s surface—and that the colony is not as dead as we thought.” This was met with various nods and grunts from the avatars representing the board members of the Colony One Mars consortium.

  “To recap, the ISA crew entered the colony facility to discover that it is still functioning and there is possibly at least one survivor. To facilitate a more comprehensive search they removed their helmets and operated wholly within the colony environment. A short while later Commander Decker became ill.”

  “What? Why did nobody warn them?” it was Rick Mannersman who voiced this concern.

  Peter ignored it and continued. “According to First Officer Annis Romanov’s latest report the commander has made a full recovery.”

  “But what if it’s happening again?”

  “We don’t know that yet, so let’s just stick to the facts,” insisted Peter.

  “What about the research lab?”

  “Ah, the lab, yes. Well it’s still intact, although not online.” With that, there was a general air of excitement within the group.

  “I’m sure you’ll appreciate that there is eh… sensitive information in that laboratory that is not for public consumption.”

  “I knew we shouldn’t have got into bed with ISA. If they were to get an inkling of the research that went on up there then there would be all hell to pay,” said Mannersman. His avatar bobbed and bristled as he spoke.

  “Well they’re not.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because we have our own agent on site, remember? So they can see to it that it does not fall into the wrong hands. Furthermore, we now have an incredible opportunity to return this research to Earth.”

  The avatars shifted and murmured. They were all salivating at this prospect.

  “Do you really think it still exists?”

  “If the information we have received is correct then there is every possibility that the… eh, Analogue is intact.” It was Nagle who responded. As the COM member assigned to ISA mission control he was in a unique position to validate all expedition data.

  “We are moving our own satellite back into position over the Colony One site and running full communications diagnostics on it as we speak. Assuming our agent performs their duties then we will soon know if what we seek is indeed viable.”

  “I trust I don’t need to remind you all of what this will mean to the future of humanity, if we succeed.” Peter decided to up the ante.

  “You’re all forgetting one major issue. What if it’s happening again? What if the unfortunate Commander Decker is succumbing to the same malaise that brought the colony down in the first place?” said Mannersman.

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But if it is happening again, then this may be the last we hear from the crew of the ISA Mars mission.”

  10

  Medlab

  Paolio wandered into the medlab to check on Jann. What happened to her? he wondered. What made her flip like that? There had been no indication the previous night. She was a little anxious perhaps—but then again, that was understandable considering the circumstances. He thought back to the time they spent on the Odyssey en route to Mars. There had been no sign then either, at least none that he could discern. Nothing to indicate Malbec's potential mental frailty.

  Another issue was the commander. Paolio was still not convinced that Decker had fully recovered, although outwardly he seemed remarkably alert. He had given him something for the headache and he was now resting in one of the accommodation modules. This concerned the doctor, considering the commander had just spent eighteen hours asleep.

  As for the others, Lu had gone back to doing a search of the galley and accommodation modules. He would check in on her later. Kevin, the mission engineer, had ensconced himself in the operations area, a section of Colony One given over to control systems. He was busy trying to get a sense of how the colony functioned: power supply, environmental controls, life support. Romanov had gone off to file a
report to mission control. They would be pleased to hear that the commander was on the mend. But they were still no further along in the search for the survivors. With Jann now a concern, it seemed to Paolio that bit by bit, little by little, the mission was losing its way.

  He spent some time checking Jann's vitals. She looked comfortable enough even though she was still encased in her EVA suit. Paolio had considered stripping it off and taking her out of it, he didn’t want her to overheat. But she would be awake in a while so he just removed her boots and gloves, pushed a pillow under her head, and left it at that. He stood back from his handiwork and surveyed the rest of the medlab module. It was in fact two modules connected together. But only one of them was operational. He walked to the far end and checked the door into the disused section. The control panel was dead. He fiddled with it for a while but it was pretty obvious it was never going to open, not without power. There were quite a number of these areas in the colony: shut down, offline, disused. They would soon have to start investigating them. But not before they had a better understanding of the colony control systems.

  Along one wall of the medlab were a number of terminals. Paolio swiped a hand over one of the control interfaces—no joy. He hunted around the workbench looking for a power source. Eventually he found a bank of switches that looked like they might control power. He flicked one marked ‘terminals’ and the area illuminated followed by a number of beeps. He waved his hand over the control interface again and this time it came to life and rendered a 3D animated COM logo just above its surface. He touched the logo and it split up into a myriad of icons for programs and files. What he really wanted to find were medical records. Something to shed a little more light on the colonists that lived here. It might give him an idea of what happened to them in those last desperate days.

  Paolio had always been of the opinion that there was more to the demise of Colony One than just the sandstorm. The last communication from Nills Langthorp had intimated at deeper psychological issues affecting the colonists. Perhaps this had hindered their ability to maintain sustainable life support? Yet it was never discussed within COM, or the ISA for that matter. Any mention of this line of enquiry was quickly dismissed as unnecessary speculation. Nevertheless, it had always been in the back of his mind. He wondered if this was the same illness that had afflicted the commander. He dared not mention his concerns to the others, in case he raised the paranoia levels unnecessarily.

  Then there was Jann. Was she also affected? He put that thought out of his mind and went back to studying the terminal. He touched on various icons looking for anything that might help shed some light on the mysteries of Colony One. After a short time he finally came to a gallery of colonists. There was a headshot for each, tagged with a cryptic alphanumeric reference. He was about to touch one to open it when he heard a series of screams emanating from deep within the bowels of the colony. He jumped up from the terminal. “Lu!”

  Paolio ran out of the medlab heading for the galley to check on Lu. He frantically searched to no avail. “Lu?” he shouted. No answer. “Damn where is she?” He moved out of the galley and into the main workshop. “Lu, are you there?” Still no answer. He turned around and about five meters behind him stood Commander Decker. He had a vacant expression and seemed to be looking up somewhere towards the ceiling. Paolio took a tentative step forward. “Commander, are you okay? Did you hear that scream, have you seen Lu?” Decker didn't reply. He fixed his gaze on Paolio with an intense, questioning look. Paolio was about to move towards the commander when he realized Decker was holding a long steel bar. Its end was covered in blood, some of which was dripping onto the floor. “Jesus, Robert. What’s going on?”

  Decker slowly raised the bar. Paolio backed away. Decker lunged. He was too quick for the doctor and struck him square across the shoulder—with force. “Contamination. It must be eradicated.”

  Paolio heard his collarbone snap as white-hot pain rifled up his neck and into his brain. The second blow connected with the side of Paolio's head. He lost his balance and went flying over a pile of workshop junk, landing hard on the floor and banging into the side of a tall rack. It rocked and tottered and finally came crashing down on top of his leg. He heard the snap and more pain than Paolio had ever known in his life coursed through his body. He cursed and screamed and looked around to try and see where Decker was. But the area was now dark. “Has the power gone?” Paolio couldn’t move, he waited for Decker to come and attack him again—but he didn't. Had he moved off somewhere else? It was deathly quiet.

  Paolio tried to get some control of his mind and calm himself down. His body screamed with pain, his head throbbed and his vision was blurry. With his good arm, he managed to drag himself backwards into a corner and hide. It was all he could do. It was very dark. He was sure the power must be out. Then he heard it. Another scream, and another, and then silence. “Lu, no, not Lu.” He couldn't bear the pain, it was too much. Then he saw a muddy pool of his own blood seeping out from under him. The break in his leg must be bad, very bad. He was a doctor so he knew what happened next—he was bleeding to death. His vision began to dim, his thoughts dulled and his eyes slowly closed.

  11

  Cold, So Cold

  Jann’s eyes snapped open. It was cold, her breath condensed and she shivered even though she was still in her EVA suit. She sat up and looked around. Her gloves and helmet were on a bench on the far side of the medlab. There was no sign of anyone. Then she remembered what had happened. She had really lost the plot, freaking out like that and waving a knife around. Could she really blame Paolio for what he did? Too late anyway, the damage was done. Now she would be regarded as the crazy one.

  “Hello, anyone there?” No answer. There’s no power, she thought, must be why it’s so cold. Where is everybody?

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She was a little shaky and took a few moments to find her balance. The light in the lab was dim, but she could still see well enough. What time was it? How long had she been out? Jann made her way over to the bench, took her gloves and helmet and put them on, just in case. If there was some emergency she could get life support from the suit almost instantly. Probably a good idea. She strapped on her boots but left the visor on her helmet open.

  She stood in the medlab for a few moments considering what to do next. Silence. Cold, dark silence. Not a sound. She listened; not even the pervasive low hum that comes with space travel, an inevitable consequence of the need to be permanently encased in life support. The hum that you only notice when it’s gone. Maybe they’re trying to restore power? But then, why didn’t Paolio, or anyone, stay here for when I woke up? “Hello?” she ventured into her helmet comm. “Malbec here, anybody please respond…” Nothing. Maybe she should go look for them. Or maybe she should get out and make for the HAB. She checked the time; there was still another hour or so of daylight left. But the Martian night came quick. It would be pitch black out on the surface, no moon to illuminate the way. She did have the HAB beacon so she could follow that if necessary and her helmet had a powerful floodlight. Jann thought about arming herself with a weapon of some kind. A baseball bat would be good, or a knife. Then again, maybe not. It didn’t work out too well the last time she tried that. So she left it, no point in exacerbating the situation.

  After deliberating her options for some time, Jann cautiously moved out of the medlab and into the main common area. Pale daylight filtered down through the domed roof, enough to illuminate her way. “Hello?” she listened. Nothing. “Where the hell are they?” She jumped as she heard a cracking sound from high up in the dome superstructure; it was adjusting to the change in temperature. Metal contracting and shifting causing a creaking that echoed around the facility. Jann made her way towards the biodome, all the time looking around for anything that might give her a clue as to the whereabouts of the crew.

  She stopped at the entrance of the short tunnel that led to the biodome. Ahead of her, she could make out a crewmember
sitting on the floor, their back resting against the tunnel wall. “Hello?” They didn’t respond; she moved closer. It was Lu. Her head was covered in blood from a serious gash on her skull. Her eyes were wide—and dead. “Lu, Jesus… Lu!” Jann rushed to her, removed one of her gloves and checked Lu’s pulse. Nothing. She slumped down onto the floor opposite the lifeless Lu Chan, and cried for the loss of her friend. “Lu, what happened?” But Lu had nothing to say.

  Something fast moved between the rows of vegetation inside the biodome. Jann caught a fleeting glimpse in the corner of her eye and she froze. It moved again. She stood up slowly, keeping her back to the tunnel wall and moved in through the entrance to investigate. It came at her like a freight train and something heavy hit her hard on the side of her head. The force knocked her forward and she went careening over a grow bed and crashed to the ground on the other side. Her suit helmet had taken the blow and held, otherwise she would be dead, or dying. She rolled over onto her back. Commander Decker towered over her. He stood motionless, glaring down at her with a demonic stare. She lifted herself up on her elbows and tried to shuffle backwards. She was dizzy from the blow. “Decker, what the hell?” He stopped and tilted his head slightly to one side like he was considering her. He then looked over at the grow-bed, pulled a long sharp metal stake out of the ground and hefted it like a spear. He advanced. Jann frantically kicked out but it was a futile action. He raised the spear, aiming to skewer her through the abdomen. Jann screamed and held her arms out in a last desperate act of self-preservation.

  From nowhere, Kevin Novack appeared and struck the commander across the back of the head with a heavy bar. Decker reeled and lost his balance. The engineer hit him again, this time on his shoulder, and Decker went flying over a grow-bed and collapsed on the floor. He stayed still. Kevin looked at the prostrate commander, ready to strike again. Satisfied that he wasn’t moving he reached down to help Jann up.