The Mars One Incident

by Kelly Curtis

  Her personal effects had been delivered and after hanging up some of her uniforms and putting away her tooth brush and comb, she set two old fashioned photographs on her desk. One was a picture of her as a teenager with her father sitting on their front porch in Savannah on a summer evening. The other picture was in black and white of Alma as a young child sitting backstage on a high stool watching one of her mother’s performances in Berlin. Alma had no picture of Scott. Although he had put pressure on her to get a photograph of them together, she had not wanted to. That’s what you did when you were really going to have children together and she didn’t know if she was ready for that yet. They had not discussed it and she didn’t know if she really could spend the rest of the foreseeable future with Scott.

  After her few belongings were put away, she sat down at her desk and unlocked her computer with her voice activation code, “Computer this is Captain Alma Johnson code: Beta-Zeta-Sigma-Sigma-5-5. Unlock.”

  “Captain Alma Johnson your computer is unlocked,” her computer answered her in a severe woman’s voice that took her off-guard and she actually jumped a little.

  All systems were checking out. She had a video message, VM, from Admiral Jackson which she opened.

  “Alma, I’m sure everything is up to standard. You have your orders, don’t hesitate. Go out there and show them that I’ve not made a mistake.”

  Alma felt so much pride at being given command, she had no intention of letting Shana down. However, she did have a momentary pause thinking about their mission and destroying the Dante and its crew. What have they done to deserve such a fate? she wondered. Then she reasoned as she had before, that if their lives were the price to pay for her command, then so be it. She brought up the files on the Dante. JC files could only be accessed by high ranking personnel at HQ, senior officers onboard ships or at the Library.

  Alma read through the Dante’s short file again, the names and minor crimes meant very little to her. Of course, she knew of them, they had been pirates for a long time, but always seemed to stay just below the line of breaking any serious laws. The crew was small, less than 20 people and they had been together for a long time, just barely making a living through trading both legal and illegal goods. They were rumored to have all kinds of technology onboard though including mythical Unification weapons, but other than that, there was nothing exceptional about them, except that they truly were professional pirates having been at it for so long.

  Alma shook her head, closed the file and got back to checking more of the inventory of the Indy. The poor ship was lacking a lot and she wondered where the Indy’s good weapons or sensors were. It was no wonder they were performing so badly, they were flying around the solar system confronting pirates half blind and with sharpened mangos as weapons.

  When content that everything was in order, she zipped up her uniform to her neck and gave her quarters one last look, consciously looking for blood or a sign of a struggle again, but when she didn’t find anything, she opened the door to her quarters to leave. She almost jumped when she saw Afia standing in the doorway.

  “I was just about to ring,” Afia said amused that she had made Alma jump.

  Alma composed herself quickly, “Come in.”

  Afia followed Alma back into her quarters. Alma sat at her desk chair and Afia stood rather than taking another chair or sitting on Alma’s bed, “Captain, I just wanted to tell you something.”

  Alma thought she was going to reiterate what she had said in front of their guild’s assembly last night, that Alma was unfit for command, so she simply asked, “Yes?”

  “I believe we have a Terra Nova member on board, maybe more than one.”

  Alma had not been expecting that, “Isn’t everyone in the military a Terra Nova member to one extent or another? We do all work with technology and try to get better technology every chance we get.”

  Afia gave her an annoyed look, “No Captain, we don’t.”

  “Tell me then.”

  “On our last mission,” Afia began, but Alma interrupted.

  “Before the Captain and First Officer disappeared?” she couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  Afia gave her a small smile, “Exactly. As I was saying, on our last mission, two ships were allowed to pass after inspection. Both ships were arrested on Mars One later for weapons and banned artificial intelligence, AI.”

  “Who led the inspections?” Minor weapons passing through inspections was unfortunately something that happened frequently, but AI was a serious issue. Humans banned AI for many reasons and having one on Mars One or Earth demanded immediate punishment which meant years of hard labor in a MAC.

  “No one apparently.”

  “Afia, out of 236 people no one knows?”

  “It was a busy time. We were encountering ships every day that were carrying contraband. But there’s a big difference between contraband and contraband.” Afia didn’t like Alma but she knew Alma wasn’t an idiot like their last captain. She let her eyes stray over to the desk top, not a trace of blood was left. She had to commend the engineering team for being excellent cleaners as well as murderers.

  “I understand,” replied Alma frowning and thinking. “Do you have any suspects?”

  Afia shook her head, “As far as I’m concerned everyone is a suspect. As you said, aren’t we all a little Terra Nova somewhere in our hearts?”

  Alma didn’t like that reply, turning her casual phrase back on her, “Fine, well I’m not a member of Terra Nova and I’m guessing neither are you.”

  “No, but I’m suspicious of your first officer, he is a traditionalist.” Afia didn’t like traditionalists. As far as she was concerned they belonged in the Ethereal with the rest of the religious zealots. Religion had no place in modern human society. And it was no secret that most traditionalists also supported Terra Nova, and whole heartedly supported a return to a society with both religion and technology.

  “Just because Christopher’s parents married and practice some silly religious habits doesn’t make him a member of Terra Nova.” She wished Christopher’s parents would have never married and would abandon their superficial religious customs, it caused more trouble than it was worth and she knew that Christopher had no intention of following in his parents’ footsteps. Alma agreed with Afia that religion was an outdated human tradition that needed to be stamped out, but she couldn’t judge people like Christopher, who had been born into it. She would judge him though if he continued to practice it in his personal life. So far, he showed no signs of traditionalist behavior so she would defend him now.

  “And what about the Junior Doctor, Julia James?”

  “What about her?”

  Afia looked at Alma in disbelief, “Captain, I’m no fool and neither are you. You know she’s from the Ethereal and people say her mother is a witch.”

  “Good, maybe we need some witchcraft to win the incentives for the season from the JC. But witches aren’t members of Terra Nova either. As far as I know, they tend to enjoy nature and dancing around bonfires naked. It doesn’t matter if she’s a witch and Christopher is a traditionalist, neither Christopher nor Julia were here when those two ships were let go and I can vouge for them both as not being with Terra Nova because I brought them both onboard. Who do you suspect who was already here and let those ships through?”

  “I suspect some people, but I’ve no proof yet.”

  “Who do you suspect?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “In the future, don’t waste my time,” Alma said annoyed.

  “One more thing.”

  “What?”

  “You.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not a member of Terra Nova if that is what you are suggesting, again?”

  “No, we already settled that and I wouldn’t repeat myself.” Afia took a deep breath calming herself, wondering how she was going to deal with this young and impulsive captain, “I just wanted to warn you.”

  “You wa
nt to warn me?” she emphasized the word ‘you’ because she couldn’t imagine Afia doing anything to help her.

  “Yes, I want to warn you that I’m going to make you work very hard. I’ll not overlook any mistakes you make. You shouldn’t have this position. I don’t know what Admiral Jackson was thinking.”

  Alma laughed a little, “I expect you to hold me accountable, in fact, I’m counting on it. I need people that stand up to me and challenge me to make me a better leader, but that goes both ways. I want the best science officer in the fleet as well. I believe that you have that in you and that is also why I’ve put up with your public questioning, so far, but nobody is indispensable on my ship. Now, is there anything else?”

  Afia looked seriously at Alma, “Nothing. I’ve said what I’ve come here to say, Captain.”

  “Good. Dismissed.”

  Afia walked out of the door and Alma remained at her desk thinking, Two ships with AI were let through. How many Terra Nova members do I have onboard?

  Alma made some notes for herself in her new red and blue patterned clothbound notebook about what Afia had said and then left for the bridge. It was a habit of hers to always keep her own notes about her ship and crewmates, now her crew, in one place. The book served as kind of a cheat sheet to always refer back to and she wrote in cursive as few in the Military Guild could decipher it.

  When Alma stepped on to the bridge of the Indy, Christopher announced, “Captain on the bridge,” and everyone saluted her. She acknowledged them and let them get back to work so that they would be ready to leave on their first mission tomorrow.

  She took her seat in her captain’s chair next to Christopher’s and looked at all the screens around the bridge displaying readouts of the ship.

  “Are you satisfied, Captain?”

  Alma couldn’t help but give Christopher a small smile, “Yes, very satisfied.”

  “I just hope we last longer than the last captain and first officer,” Christopher said softly.

  “I’m sure they turned to piracy as so many do,” Alma replied loudly so that the entire crew on the bridge heard her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Christopher had found some remnants of a struggle in his quarters and that is why he made that comment just now.

  Afia said nonchalantly from her science station across the bridge, “Yes, as so many do.”

  Christopher and Alma exchanged knowing looks and then Alma shrugged, as if to say, ‘It is what it is.’

  Christopher nodded and after a second, they continued going over all the checks that needed to be completed, as with that exchange, they had resigned themselves to the knowledge that this crew probably had murdered their last leaders.

  Chapter 3

  April 25th 2635, Savannah, Georgia, North America

  Alma took the fast over ground magnetic train from Atlanta to Savannah. The Savannah Station was not nearly as busy as the Atlanta Central Station had been. Alma could see Scott waiting for her in the Meeting Area. As she approached she grinned at him.

  “I thought you came from work, you’re not wearing your uniform?” he had been looking forward to seeing her in her uniform again this evening. He liked being seen with her when people recognized who she was.

  Instead of her uniform, Alma was dressed in a fitted shirt with white and blue small embroidered flowers and worn blue jeans, “You know how my parents feel about my career choice.”

  “But you’re doing so well, surely they would be more accepting now?”

  “You obviously don’t understand where I get my grit and stubbornness from,” she said only half joking as they began to walk to the trams that would take them into the small city of Savannah.

  Outside the station, the sun was setting and it was a beautiful spring evening. “Should we walk?” asked Scott.

  “That’ll take too long. My mother is always late, but she won’t be that late and then she’ll be cross at having to spend so much time with my dad tête à tête.”

  Alma and Scott pushed themselves on to a packed tram and then with an abrupt start the solar tram began to make its meandering way through the city. Alma had grown up in Savannah and it was the only place she ever really wanted to be when she was on Earth. She closed her eyes as she was touched on all sides by the crowd around her and breathed in her people, her humanity. It was moments like these, that time stood still for Alma. The tram rocked a little back and forth, as a baby in the womb, as it went towards her childhood neighborhood and she enjoyed this moment, as if there was no past or future, that all of time was happening right now on this tram. And she reveled in this moment, as if it might be her last. She loved the way the bright evening sun shone in red flashes on her closed eyelids, the push of the peoples’ bodies casually pressed against hers, the murmur of people talking around her interspersed with the occasional tram bell and bicycles outside. This was the only Earth for her.

  Alma opened her eyes and nodded at Scott as the tram came up on the South Historic District. They alighted and walked the short distance to Alma’s dad’s home. It had also been her home until she joined the Military Guild at ten years old, where she had boarded in the dormitory. Her father’s house was an old Victorian house, the maximum space one person was allowed to live in under the JC Social Housing Regulations. However, her father had gained the privilege from being one of the most well-known visual artists on the planet and an exemplary citizen.

  They walked up onto the old wooden porch. Alma didn’t pause to knock or ring the bell, she just walked right in through the unlocked old wooden front door with Scott trailing behind her. Inside were all the familiar smells of her childhood, the old house, the humidity that hung in the air and the smell of fresh food being cooked, all with the slight fragrance of oil paint underlying everything. Alma said loudly as they passed through the drawing room on their way into the kitchen, “Dad? We’re here.”

  “In here,” her father said happily from the kitchen. Harold was an older man with long grey hair and a long grey beard, but anyone could tell that he had been strong and handsome in his youth. He walked up to Alma as they entered the kitchen and gave her a big hug, “Good to see you girl.” Then he looked up at Scott and shook his hand, “Good to meet you again, Scott. And don’t mind my cooking, I’m not a professional, it’s just a hobby.”

  “Not at all. I love it when someone else cooks for me,” Scott replied with a warm smile, handing Harold a bottle of champagne that he had brought.

  “Oh champagne, are we celebrating something?” Harold asked sarcastically looking at Alma.

  “Dad,” Alma admonished.

  “Thank you Scott. Why don’t we save this until Anna arrives. I’ll put it in the cooler. In the meantime, you don’t mind opening the wine I’ve selected in the other room do you? It’s on the table. Pour us some glasses while you’re at it,” Harold instructed Scott so he could get a couple minutes alone with his daughter. As soon as Scott left the kitchen and the door closed behind him, Harold said, “Alma, this morning the Arts Guild Crier told me that you have been given command of a ship. You know, I don’t agree with this. You’re being pushed for reasons you can’t see or you don’t want to see and I don’t think it’s in your best interest to accept this position.”

  “Too late,” Alma sighed. “And I’m not being pushed or used,” they both knew it was a lie, but she wanted the Indy despite everything.

  Harold took in Alma’s countenance and tried again to persuade her, “And when the Admiral offered you this tremendous opportunity, you didn’t consider why?”

  “Of course, I did, but I’m well aware of what the price is for the position and I’ve resigned myself to it already. I’m no fool, Dad.”

  “No, you’re far from it, that’s part of the problem. Someone, not just the Admiral, also thought making you a captain was convenient for them and their plans. In my experience, when two powerful people or more propel someone as inexperienced as you forward, there is a plan behind it. You’ll be made to take the blame for somethi
ng. Are you really willing to take the chance you can outsmart these people at their own game when they’ve already set you up as a pawn?”

  “I think you’ve been thinking about this way too much. I don’t know what your guild crier said, most likely nothing good, but many people opposed it, if that makes you feel any better? And the Admiral had some legitimate reasons to pass over people that were more experienced.”

  He shook his head, “You know what you are doing, I suppose. What does an old man have left to teach you?”

  “Honestly Dad, don’t play this tune to me. I’m listening to you. I hear you. I’m just choosing not to do as you would do. I’m my own person.” Alma had been saying the same thing to her dad since she was ten years old and chose the Military Guild over either of her parents’ guilds; fine art or performance art. It was rare that children didn’t follow in their parents’ footsteps, especially when their parents had excelled in their careers as hers had. And being in the military was an unpopular choice in a largely pacifist society that shunned technology, but Alma had always wanted to be a pilot and as she grew that passion changed to command of a starship. She was finally living her dream, but everyone genetically close to her thought it was the worst career choice she could have ever made. As a result, she was always defensive when she talked about work with her family.

  “I know,” Harold replied and put his hands on her shoulders to look directly into her eyes, “I just worry. People who work with technology become corrupted by it. You’re surrounded by them and I worry you’ll be harmed by someone who’s become addicted to technology or you’ll become addicted to it yourself.”

  “I’m healthy Dad and I’d never harbor thoughts about bringing technology back,” she said adamantly, cutting to the point. “I’m not a member of Terra Nova and never will be, if that’s where you are going with this? That you think I got this position because of my association with that radical group?”