“No, ma’am, not real meat. We use a cleverly disguised protein substitute for the chicken.”
“And what about the wine?” ventured Freddie.
“Good point sir, we don’t have any of that either, but it does contain neat alcohol plus powdered red grapes.”
“Sounds delicious,” said Freddie sarcastically.
“That’s kind of you to say sir, if you want I can show you how I make it?” said Filo enthusiastically.
“That’s very kind, maybe another time,” said Freddie.
Aster gave Freddie a cheeky grin and whispered, “You tease!”
“Greetings, new recruits,” came a new, Russian voice.
“Oh, hello, who are you?” asked Aster.
“I am Sergey Loginovsky and I am Russian Cosmonaut,” said Sergey proudly.
“Lovely to meet you Sergey, I’m Aster Madly,” shaking Sergey’s hand warmly. “Are you a permanent resident here at the colony?”
“Yes. And no. I am part of Russian observer mission. I observe, I make notes, I inform on my superiors.”
“I think you mean you inform your superiors?” suggested Freddie.
“I know what I mean,” insisted Sergey, a wild look suddenly in his eyes.
“Well I’m sure we’ll give you plenty to make notes about!” said Tiggy with a friendly smile. “Okay guys, let’s go and finish unpacking and then I will run through the timetable.”
The recruits followed Tiggy back to their living quarters.
“What do you make of it so far?” Aster asked Freddie as they walked.
“It’s okay I suppose. Kinda reminds me of the moon base, and not in a good way.”
“Right, don’t fancy staying in these modules for too long. And the food situation sounds a little dire right now. I’m looking forward to growing our own fresh stuff, a nice bit of fruit and veg.”
“If it does grow. No one has yet demonstrated it’s actually possible to grow anything on Mars,” Freddie replied with a derisive shrug.
“Really?” said Aster with a panicked expression. Freddie just nodded and walked on.
MARS COLONY PHASE ONE
Mars colonists arriving during Phase One will be required to prepare the ground for construction of permanent facilities including the biome where food crops will be grown. Mars has seasons much like Earth, but base camp had been situated within the tropics to allow for continuous, year-round production. Within the first year, it is hoped, the colony will be self-sufficient in terms of crop yield.
Life on Mars presents many practical challenges. For example, whenever a colonist leaves the pressurised living modules, he or she needs to be fully suited up to cope with the solar radiation and very low atmospheric pressure. Upon returning to base, their space suit must be showered down to remove corrosive and abrasive dust particles.
It must be stressed, therefore, that the life of a Mars colonist is not for everyone. A colonist must be brave of heart, serious of intent, fit in mind and body. And above all, able to accept orders from authorities with whom they may violently disagree and who may themselves be suffering from illogical and fatal delusions.
If you feel you are capable of rising to this challenge, you are encouraged to apply to your local recruitment officer, including in your application a recent photograph and a haiku on the subject of Total Submission.
UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition
Nearly every day a container would arrive which had been accelerated off the Moon by the mass driver, months earlier. It would be captured in Mars orbit by a specially designed heavy lift vehicle which gently delivered it to the planet’s surface.
The containers were essential to the early colonists, bringing fresh supplies that they were unable to provide for themselves as yet. The expense was huge, and there was economic and political pressure to reduce the frequency of the shipments.
Hence the urgency to complete the biome construction project.
Sian, Aster, Sky and Detroit donned space suits and were preparing to put in a hard day’s work at the building site.
“Sky, are you guys ready? I’m about to open the airlock.”
“Roger that Sian, we’re good - all green lights here.”
Sian opened the airlock and the team ventured outside. They collected a utility buggy and drove round to the materials bay.
“Okay, we need to load up with a dozen acrylic panels - Detroit, are you good to operate the lifting jig?” asked Sian.
“No problem, I’m on it.” Detroit lumbered over to the control panel and starting positioning the jig to collect the first panel. Aster had been tasked with filming the proceedings for the Mars Colony One show. Sky stood around awkwardly.
“So Sian, I hear you and Freddie are getting a bit chummy.”
“Who told you that Detroit?”
“Oh, no-one. Just rumours doing the rounds.”
“Well that’s a load of nonsense. He’s a nice guy, and everything, just not really my type.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers Sian, there’s a limited number of men on this planet you know.”
“Watch what you’re doing Detroit, remember that panel weighs 250 kilos! Sky can you guide it onto the back of the utility?”
“It has a mass of 250 kilos, it doesn’t weigh that here. He has a point though, you need to face the realities of our situation,” chipped in Sky.
“What is it with you guys? We’ve been here, what, a week, and all you can talk about is who is going to pair off with whom?”
Aster lowered her camera. “Sian, can we be bothered to film this moronic conversation?”
“Oh, don’t worry, we can use the visuals and edit out the asinine speech.”
“Good point,” said Aster, raising the camera again.
“But in answer to your question boys,” continued Sian, “remember, there’ll soon be a new ship arriving every month, with twelve fresh new recruits, once we get the crops growing nicely.”
“If we get them growing…” interjected Sky.
“… at which point, I won’t have to put up with you anymore if I don’t want to.”
“Don’t say that Sian!” said Sky, feigning offence, “I thought you liked us.”
Sian was keen to move the conversation on. “Come on, we’ve got another eleven of these to shift.”
An hour later, they were ready to move out to the biome site.
“Hank, do you read me?”
“Loud and clear Ms Pevensey,” came the voice in Sian’s helmet.
“We’re proceeding to the biome site with the acrylic. Can you meet us there?”
“Absolutely, ma’am, I’m on my way.”
The biome was being constructed about 2km away from base camp, positioned to receive as much sunlight as possible. The thick perspex-like acrylic panels were designed to allow through the maximum amount of useful solar energy, whilst filtering out hard radiation. You know, the sort that kills all life in minutes.
Ten minutes later, the team rendezvoused with Hank at the construction site. Hank was not wearing a space suit or helmet, which didn’t bother him in the slightest.
“Hey there Hank. How do you like it out here?” asked Sky.
“Great thank you sir! It’s nice to be able to stretch my legs.”
“Do you have to go through the whole showering rigmarole when you get back to base?”
“Most definitely sir. I collect Martian dust the same as anyone else. I am of course fully sealed against anything this environment can throw at me. I like the showers though, I find them invigorating!”
“Lucky you,” Detroit added, jealously.
“Okay, Hank, you climb up that scaffold and we’ll lift the first panel to you, alright?” instructed Sian.
“I’m on it!” Hank responded cheerfully, and with superhuman speed began shinning up the scaffolding that surrounded the aluminium skeleton of the biome.
“Wow, look at him go!” shouted Aster gleefully.
“Yeah, handy little fella isn’t
he?”
“You know, I think he likes the freedom of the colony. Back on Earth he would be just another menial android - here, well he’s our equal really.”
“You’re not getting soppy about the droids, are you Aster?” teased Sky.
As Aster watched Hank cheerfully going about his duties with precision and speed, she observed that actually, yes, her attitude to his kind was changing. Back home it was tempting to see them as a slightly infantile nuisance, but that simply wasn’t appropriate here. For one thing, the human colonists depended on the androids to make the base operate safely. And their can-do attitude was a breath of fresh air compared to the could-do-if-I-could-be-bothered-but-first-I-need-to-make-an-acerbic-comment attitude of most of Aster’s male colleagues.
8. Container Cantina
Back in base camp, Sian set about editing the video footage they had captured. She deleted the audio track and instead overlaid a recording of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonatas. The TV producers back on Earth can decide what to make of that, she thought to herself.
“So Pevensey, when you’re done with that, are you going to join us down at the Cantina?” asked Detroit.
“Oh yeah sure, I’ve heard about this place, sounds like a laugh. Give me a minute to upload this video.”
“Have you asked Freddie?” Aster asked Sky.
“Nope but I can if you want.”
“I’ll get him,” replied Aster.
A few minutes later the five of them made their way through the aluminium tunnel that connected the living quarters to a few containers that had been welded together and re-purposed as a bar.
RULES FOR DRINKING
UK Space Command encourages all off-Earth personnel to cultivate a positive approach to downtime leisure pursuits, as it has been recognised that social interaction leads to stronger interpersonal bonding and more effective teamwork.
However, it must be noted that excessive alcohol consumption is both unhealthy to the individual and can threaten the safety of the wider community. The following rules for drinking are therefore presented here as friendly guidance:
i)On no account consume more that your own bodyweight of any beverage in a 24 hour period.
ii)When considering which alcoholic beverage to purchase, take a moment to observe the traffic light symbol on the side, and avoid drinks with a red light.
iii)If you don’t know what a traffic light is, you are too young to drink.
iv)If you observe a blurry or indistinct traffic light, this is usually an indication that you have had enough to drink.
v)Never, under any circumstances, accept a drink from an android. They are, in all probability, only trying to be friendly, but most models are sadly naive in the ways of humans, and fail to appreciate the subtleties of the drinking culture.
UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition
“Welcome to Container Cantina!” yelled Detroit above the din of the music.
“Wow, this really lives up to my expectations!” yelled Sian back.
“I’m guessing you weren’t expecting much then.”
“Spot on there Aster!”
Sky moseyed on up to the bar, which Sergey and two of his compatriots were leaning against, a row of vodka shots in front of them. They nodded to acknowledge Sky’s arrival and he slapped Sergey on the back in a male-bonding type way. He then politely yelled at the android bartender to turn the music down slightly.
“I’m sorry sir, I can’t hear you because of this loud music!” the android yelled in return.
Sky leant over the bar and turned the music down himself, grinning at the android. The bartender looked affronted by this invasion of his personal domain, then understood and grinned widely back.
“There, that’s a bit better. Now then my good man, have you got a drinks list?”
“Here you are sir.”
“Right let’s see. Very good - nice selection. I think two Astral Martinis for the ladies, plus three of your finest blonde ales.”
“Very good sir.” The android rummaged around under the bar. “Ah, unfortunately, sir, the Martini hasn’t arrived from Earth yet.”
“Right, better make it two white wine spritzers then.”
“We’ve only got the locally brewed variety.”
“Yes that’ll have to do.”
“And three blonde ales was it sir?”
“Yeah. Sometime this Martian decade might be nice.”
“Oh right, I was going to make them straight away sir.”
“Sorry, figure of speech, please carry on.”
“About the ales, sir.”
“Yep. What?”
“Not truly ales in the literal sense.”
“Look, just give me whatever you’ve got - bring them over to our table would you? I think I’ve lost all feeling in my legs.”
“Oh dear sir, would you like me to perform a medical examination?”
“No, that’s fine, just the drinks, thanks. Oh, and five packets of crisps, peanuts, or anything edible.”
Sky meandered over to the booth where the others had parked themselves.
“Drinks are on their way, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
In the next booth were Mars Colony One assistant director Bob Shuman and camera operator Matti Jenks.
“Look Matti, I’ve been reviewing the footage we’ve captured since the new recruits arrived.”
“And?”
“Well it’s just a bit dull - not your fault Matti! Just, you know, we’ve only been able to film inside the camp. Once we get our hands on the video the new guys have been filming for themselves I reckon things’ll look up.”
“Did you get any response from HQ about the episodes we’ve sent them so far?”
“Yeah, they weren’t happy. They keep wanting to change the angle. No, not the camera angle. Oh typical, they’re trying to vis call me right now.”
Shuman took out of his messenger bag a portable vis screen and propped it up on the table.
“Greetings Shuman, we just wanted to have a quick word with you about the show, if now’s convenient?”
“Hello sir, yes that’s fine.”
There was a pause. Matti leant over and whispered to Bob, “What’s going on, has the line dropped?”
“No,” Bob whispered back, “currently there’s a two minute delay due to the Earth-Mars separation.”
“Sheesh, this is going to be a fun conversation!” said Matti and settled back with his watery Lager-than-Lifetm.
Just then, Stevie the android bartender who had finally delivered the drinks to Sky’s table, picked up a guitar and tapped a couple of times on a microphone. He then proceeded to perform Walking on the Moon at about half the normal speed and in a most unusual key.
“Gosh it just gets better in here!” noted Aster.
“Hey Sian, feel like a boogie?”
“Are you serious Freddie? You can’t dance to this nonsense!”
“Perhaps we could persuade him to hang up his guitar and turn the other music back on?” suggested Detroit.
“I’ll have a little chat with him,” said Freddie, “any requests?”
“Anything that doesn’t involve a robot playing any instrument whatsoever.”
Aster watched Freddie traipse over to Stevie and awkwardly try to interrupt his song mid-flow. The android sullenly unplugged his guitar and put it away. Freddie’s wasting his time trying to please Sian, she thought to herself.
Later that night Aster was lying awake in the female dorm, listening to the others gently snoring, which she could just about hear above the ringing in her ears. Mars was going well, she reflected. Early days, obviously, but hey, being part of the colony was a major ambition she’d now achieved. And it was fantastic that she seemed to have been cured of the nightmares, finally, after so many years. Had they gone for good? Only time would tell. Peacefully, expectantly, she drifted off.
Spaceport West Page 6
