Colony Mars Ultimate Edition

by Gerald M. Kilby

Poe sighed. "Okay, we can try to reactivate it." He shook his head again. "There's going to be hell to pay when the council finds out."

  Mia smiled. "Well that's your problem, Poe."

  4

  Museum

  There were two fundamental problems in attempting to reactivate the old droid. The first, and the one that concerned Poe Tarkin the most, was political. Gizmo had been decommissioned under an extraordinary mandate issued by the ruling council of Mars. At the time, its almost sentient nature had been viewed by some as a security threat, and the fact it had been deemed to have gone rogue. Not that the little robot was entirely to blame for this action, as it was simply responding to the instructions of some very influential people in Martian governmental hierarchy—Dr. Jann Malbec, to name one.

  But Mia had also played a significant role in its ultimate fall from grace. They had been in a few scrapes together where people had been killed, albeit in self-defense. Nevertheless, Gizmo had an array of lethal weaponry at its disposal and wasn't afraid to use any of it. So, it was simply deemed too dangerous to wander around an ever-expanding colony.

  Yet the little droid had history; it went way back almost to the very foundation of the colony, and as such, it was also seen as a sort of national treasure. If it were to be decommissioned, then it should at least be given the recognition it deserved and treated with a modicum of respect. It was decided in the end that it would be powered down and placed on permanent exhibition in the new museum that was being established. It was not to be dismantled, save for the removal of all weaponry, and not to be reactivated again under any circumstances.

  So what Mia was proposing, by rights, should require council approval, something that would be very difficult to obtain at this late hour. But Poe, to his credit, was not overly concerned with this. He conceded to Mia's argument that things had moved on. The colony was now full of semi-sentient droids, some far more sophisticated than Gizmo ever was, at least until the dust storm hit. So, in that sense, Gizmo was no longer a threat, and the current council could easily be persuaded of that.

  In the end, the director of planetary security agreed to Mia's demands, and so the second problem became the real issue—was it even technically possible to reanimate the droid after all this time? Mia's answer to this was, "Well, there's only one way to find out."

  An hour or so after her meeting with Poe Tarkin, Mia found herself standing in front of the main entrance door to the Jezero City Foundation Museum with a two-person tech team who were busying themselves trying to get the door open. The museum, like most of the other infrastructure utilized by the city's burgeoning tourist industry, had been mothballed—put into a low-energy maintenance mode. Some sectors had been shut down completely, but the delicate nature of some of the exhibits in the museum required it to have a minimum of life support.

  "Got it," shouted Max, one of the techs. The double doors of the museum entrance gently swung open.

  It was pitch black inside. Maintenance mode, it seemed, did not stretch to include illumination, so they moved by flashlight. Max and the other tech, Jackie, each pushed a trolley laden with tools and test equipment. Mia considered all this equipment a bad sign, not that she had thought reanimating Gizmo would be as simple as pressing the on button. But both Max and Jackie had been very keen to impress on her just how technically challenging this enterprise was, although Mia got the feeling that they were both up to the challenge. She supposed that bringing some ancient technology back to life was something different from their normal routine of doing whatever it took to keep some ailing systems from dying.

  Mia had only visited the museum once, a long time ago now, and that was just to see Gizmo's final resting place, so her memory of the layout was vague. She knew it was housed in one of the older domes in the colony, a former bio-dome probably some fifty meters in diameter. But it was impossible to see more than what their feeble flashlights could illuminate.

  Jackie took the lead, flashlight strapped to her head. She had a slate clipped to the handle of the trolley and was reading their location on a map displayed on the screen. "This way." She pointed straight ahead and took off at a slow, cautious pace. The others followed.

  As they walked, Mia began to pick out vague shapes of ancient spacecraft looming out of the gloom. She swung her light over some of these to get a sense of what they might be. She stopped in front of the squat, battered shape of an early lander. It was around ten meters wide and less than that tall. Its surface bore all the marks of a violent journey through the Martian atmosphere, its heat shield scorched and blackened. She stood and looked at it for a moment, wondering what sort of crazy lunatic would even consider going to Mars in such a tiny vessel. But those were the early days, a long time ago now.

  Beside it, her light picked up the form of even older technology. A small, six-wheel robotic rover. She moved her light to read the text on the plaque in front of the display. It told her she was looking at the Mars 2020 rover, the very first human mission to land in Jezero Crater. She swept her light over it again now that she had some idea what she was looking at. There was no doubting it was primitive, but still impressive given it was the vanguard of humanity's eventual colonization of Mars.

  "Found it," Max shouted. Mia looked around to see the tech waving at her while Jackie started unpacking equipment. When Mia caught up with them, they had set up some floor lights to provide better illumination to work with.

  This section of the museum housed an exhibition of robots and service droids that had been utilized during the early years of the colony. The early versions tended to be wheeled or use tracks, like Gizmo, whereas the later versions became quadrupeds, and some bipeds, the latter almost humanlike in size and form. Gizmo took up the central position in this long evolutionary line of robotic workers, more by virtue of its physical appearance: tracked wheels, as well as a somewhat ungainly and unsophisticated look. But what Gizmo lacked in physical sophistication it more than made up for in the high functioning of its general intelligence. None of the other droids in this exhibit even came close to Gizmo's level of analytical thinking. Ultimately, that was what proved its undoing; it was just too smart for its own good.

  Max set up and adjusted some floor lights as Jackie removed the rope that cordoned the visitors off from the exhibits. She stepped up onto the plinth where Gizmo sat and gave it a visual inspection. "An old G2 unit. You don't see many of these anymore, even now, when we're trying to press everything into service because of the storm." She turned back to Mia. "Are you sure this is the one you're looking for? It's pretty much an antique." She waved her hand, pointing farther up the line of droid exhibits. "Maybe we could get some of these others working for you. Any of those would be better than this bucket of servos."

  Mia had to admit that in the gloom of a mothballed museum, the little robot looked almost forlorn. Its casing was scratched and battered, and its head hung down over its breastplate. It looked a far different machine than the one she remembered all those years ago, in happier times. For a brief moment she considered that maybe this was all a bad idea. In fact, the entire mission that Poe Tarkin was proposing was a bad idea. She could just refuse to go. Poe couldn't force her; he would just get someone else. But that would mean that she would be back on the frontline tomorrow, with the thankless task of holding the line against the ever-increasing social unrest and the incessant unraveling of colony society. If nothing else, this mission would give her a break from dealing with the demands of leading a team that faced an impossible task.

  "This is the one." She pointed at Gizmo. "How long do you think it will take to reactivate it?"

  Both techs were now circling the machine, giving it a surface examination. "Hard to say," said Max as he poked a panel on Gizmo's breastplate. "These old G2 units can be tricky. It will probably depend on what state the power unit is in. We may need to replace it, if we can, or even upgrade it."

  "Even a rough guess will do for now." Mia was in no mood to hang about in the freezing co
ld of the museum hall any longer than she had to.

  "Few hours, maybe less. Depends," said Jackie. "We'll give you a call if and when we get it going."

  "Okay, but I'd like to be here when it wakes up."

  Max stopped his poking around and glanced over at Mia with a look of mild incredulity on his face. "Sure, but it's just a machine. It's not like a patient coming out of a coma."

  "It is to me."

  "Whatever." He went back to his poking around.

  Mia left them to it and headed back to her accommodation module. It was late—almost midnight, she reckoned. The corridors and walkways of this sector were deserted, since most of this area had been put into a kind of suspended animation after all the tourists had been evacuated. There was no sound except for the gentle hum of the life-support infrastructure, nothing to mark her passing, only the flicker of automatic lights as she walked.

  It was around two hours later when Mia finally got the call. She had fallen asleep on her sofa and it took her a moment to realize it was Max, the tech, and not some MLOD emergency. She relaxed a little and tapped the side of her ear. "Yeah?"

  "We're almost there with the droid. We've upgraded the power unit... Installed a LENR instead, much better energy density and surge management. And we've run through most of the diagnostics...mainly mechanical and subsystems. Anyway, we also did a checksum on the boot sequence and primary protocols—"

  Mia cut him off. "Can you just give me that in English?"

  "Oh yeah, sorry... Eh, we should be ready to try for initial reactivation in twenty minutes."

  "Okay, I'm on my way." She closed the comms channel and stood up. The tech sounded like it was so far so good with Gizmo, so maybe the old droid could be pressed back into service after all. This should be interesting, she thought as she made for the door.

  When Mia arrived back at the main hall of the museum, she found Gizmo still on its low plinth with a multitude of wires and tubes snaking from its casing over to the bank of equipment the techs had brought. They were both crouched over a screen mounted on one of the trollies, studying lines of code scrolling down the display. Jackie heard her approaching, stood up, and beckoned to her. "Hurry, the show's about to start." She pointed at the screen. "This is the last of the diagnostics. As soon as that finishes, the droid should instigate a boot sequence."

  "A what?" said Mia.

  "It should reactivate," answered Max.

  Mia glanced at the little robot. It looked exactly as she had left it, aside from all the cables the techs had attached.

  "Here we go. Fingers crossed." Jackie pointed at the screen. It had finished what it was doing and was now simply blank. They all turned to look at Gizmo.

  For a moment nothing happened, then it seemed to twitch and several tiny lights flickered to life on the side of its head. Its breastplate had been removed to expose a small display that now flashed to life as data began to scroll. It was booting up.

  Mia moved closer just as Gizmo's head raised itself. It then seemed to do a strange dance.

  "Cool," said Max. "It's running through a self-test routine, checking all its servos."

  With that, the dance stopped, and Gizmo lifted an arm and waved. "Greetings, Mia. It has been...2,354 sols since I last interacted with you. I trust you are well?"

  Mia gave a laugh and shook her head in amazement. "I'm fine, Gizmo. It's good to see you again."

  "And you too, although I must admit I seem to be missing a considerable amount of temporal data." It swung its head to examine the two techs, who were standing stock still with their mouths open. Gizmo raised an arm and waved again. "Greetings, Earthlings."

  "Holy crap," said Jackie.

  "I never really understood that phrase, other than it tends to be uttered as either a statement of amazement or as a prelude to some oncoming catastrophe. I trust you are utilizing it for the former," said Gizmo.

  "Holy crap," said Max.

  "I told you it wasn't your typical G2 unit." Mia couldn't help but laugh at the look on the techs’ faces.

  The little robot now started to detach all the cables and tubes connected to it with a rapid, fluid dexterity, so much so that neither of the techs had time to react.

  Gizmo rolled off the low plinth. "I detect that there has been a significant physical expansion of the colony during my sojourn in...the museum." It moved its head to take in the space around it. "I also detect a significant deterioration in the infrastructural fabric."

  "Yeah, a lot has happened these last few years, Gizmo." Mia could sense that the droid was accessing and processing data at a furious rate, trying to bring itself up to speed on all that had transpired.

  "It will take me some time to process all this new information, possibly several hours."

  "That's okay, Gizmo. We've got plenty of time."

  "Would I be correct in assuming that you have reactivated me because I may be of some assistance to you?"

  Mia gave it a broad smile. "Correct. We have a mission, you and I."

  "Excellent. When do we start?"

  "Very soon." Mia jerked her head in the direction of the exit. "Come on, follow me. I'll explain as we go."

  They moved off, leaving Max and Jackie still with their mouths open.

  5

  Caravan

  Mia sat opposite Lieutenant Bret Stanton in the freight caravan, a small, fixed table dividing them. Beside it, a window afforded them a view of the passing landscape as the caravan wound its way across the Martian surface. Not that there was anything to see—just the same dense fog of brown dust that had covered the planet for the last 368 sols.

  It was cramped, packed with people and goods en route to Syrtis, some twelve hundred kilometers southwest of Jezero City. Compounding Mia's sense of confinement was the need for her, and all the other passengers, to be in full EVA suits. No one was taking any chances. Even though the caravan was the safest way to travel, there was still a lot that could go wrong. Better to be prepared than caught with your pants down, so to speak, if the compartment should suddenly lose pressure.

  The caravan comprised ten individual compartments, like train carriages, connected together by a flexible umbilical airlock. Each compartment was approximately ten meters long and four wide. They were each completely independent, with their own power, life support, drive train, and comms. If one should fail, then the others could compensate. Unless, of course, the failure was catastrophic, such as a hull breach. But even then, that compartment could be detached, the surviving passengers moved, and the caravan could continue on. Bret informed her that no one had died on such a journey for at least a month. Mia made absolutely sure her suit was fully resourced before she boarded.

  Gizmo had parked itself in a gap between stacks of packing crates. It was still and quiet—content, Mia supposed. It had taken its six-and-a-half-year hiatus with typical unemotional detachment, like it was a perfectly normal thing, which, from the point of view of a droid, it was. But Mia couldn't help feeling that the little robot had been hard done by. She would have to stop transferring her human emotion onto it. Gizmo didn't care; it was only interested in acquiring as much data as it could on the current state of the colony, something it achieved in less than two hours. After that, it was like it had never been deactivated. The old Gizmo was back, except for the weapons—that was the only thing it seemed put out by.

  They had been traveling for several hours, but progress was slow. The caravan only managed an average speed of around fifty kilometers an hour. Yet it was smooth and relatively comfortable, so Mia dozed off about an hour into the journey. She woke up some time later with the hard metal rim of her EVA suit collar digging into her neck.

  "Welcome back," said Bret, looking up from his slate.

  Mia rubbed her neck to ease the ache, then reflexively looked up to the rack above their seats to ensure her helmet was still there—just in case.

  "How long was I out?"

  Bret lowered his slate momentarily. "Only around an hour. Still a lo
ng way to go." He gave an apologetic grin. "I've been going over some of the crime stats from the MLOD in Syrtis for the last six months."

  "I can't imagine that makes for pleasant reading."

  "If you think Jezero is bad, this is a lot worse." He pointed down at the slate. "We’re talking riots—organized riots. We're talking major social unrest orchestrated by subversive factions within Syrtis. This goes way beyond simple crimes of the desperate and the needy."

  Mia shrugged. "So what? We know all this. There's nothing new in any of that."

  Bret gave a furtive glance around the compartment, then leaned in a little across the small table. He had a concerned look on his face. He kept his voice low. "This is all political, powerful industries in Syrtis vying for control."

  "Not our problem, Bret. Our job is to pick up a body and return home."

  Bret looked a little surprised at Mia's reaction. "But this is a murder investigation we're on." His voice was almost a whisper.

  "Only if we find some evidence to indicate that a murder has taken place. And what do you think is the likelihood of us finding any?"

  Bret thought for a moment, then his face took on a resigned look. "Slim to none."

  "Exactly. When we get there, the MLOD will be all professional and polite with us, while at the same time giving us the runaround until we have no option but to pack it in and head back."

  "But you're still going to try...aren't you?"

  Mia didn't reply, just gave him a look as if to say What do you think?

  It was clear that Bret wasn't sure if he was reading her right. "But, the droid. You reactivated it so it could help us."

  Mia rubbed her neck again; she was getting tired of dealing with Bret's naiveté. "True. But in reality, I've been waiting for an opportunity to present itself so that I could get Gizmo out of jail, so to speak. And this was it." She looked over at the robot. "We go back a bit, me and that droid. We have history together. And it saved my ass more than once, so I owe it one—that's all."