2017 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide

by Maggie Allen

  “At least the rain isn’t doing much more to us than making us wet.” Mike shook his head like a dog, scattering red raindrops. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got to get this bite looked at. It hurts.”

  “Let me take another quick look at it now. I’ve got a small first aid kit; I just didn’t have time to take it out back in the meadow. Sit down,” Alicia said.

  Bee held Kjell’s jacket over them to shield them from the rain so Alicia could get a better look at Mike’s injury. Alicia let out an involuntary gasp. The welt now looked swollen and shiny, with purple streaks radiating outward from it. “Oh Mike, that doesn’t look good. We need to get you back now.”

  Mike grimaced in pain. “It doesn’t feel great, either.”

  “I’m not sure any of the medicines I have is going to help it. I don’t want to use the wrong thing and make it worse.” Alicia carefully taped a bandage over it, and then she and Bee pulled Mike up and helped him to move as quickly as possible back towards the station, along a route that should have been very familiar.

  Mike suddenly stopped short. “Wait, where are the blue leaves?” Mike asked. “I know this should be the section between the cliff and my excavation site. But it’s not the same.”

  Bee, who had been focused on where she was stepping, looked around in surprise. “ You’re right.” She pointed. “That red moss. I saw some on one of the tree branches earlier, but now it’s totally taken over.”

  The moss, hanging down in thick curtains from the tree in front of them, curling and undulating delicately, seemed to enjoy the moisture that was trickling down it.

  “This is ridiculous. I just want to get us all back inside. I’m wet, I’m tired, and I’m done!” Alicia yanked the pepper spray off her own belt and sent a thin stream of the stuff at the moss. It instantly pulled itself back onto the branch, leaving an opening.

  “Wow,” Mike said to Alicia in admiration. “Even the moss is allergic to Earth peppers. Is everything here, do you think?”

  “We probably don’t want to find out,” she said grimly, giving the moss another spritz.

  “Don’t hurt the moss!” Bee protested.

  Alicia shot Bee an exasperated look.

  “What?” Bee gently pulled a sample of the moss off the tree and dropped it in an extra specimen bag from her pocket. “At least it’s not harboring tiny creatures that scream. You gotta give it that.”

  Alicia just shook her head and then ducked under the tree branch, continuing forward, wielding the pepper spray as if she were an early 20th-century explorer using a machete to carve her way through a South American jungle.

  Bee, who couldn’t help herself, gave the moss a friendly pat as they walked beneath it.

  Bee’s heart lifted when she caught sight of her orchard. They were close now, and after they’d reached Mike’s rocks, there’d been less out-of-control vegetation to work their way through. The rain was slowing to a drizzle, too, though all three of them looked like they were survivors staggering out of a particularly grisly horror movie.

  Bee lifted her face to her purple trees to admire them and was rewarded by a bug dropping right onto her. She spluttered and swatted at it. “Help!”

  Alicia, having apparently embraced the effectiveness of the pepper spray, instinctually raised it in defense.

  “Cool it, killer! You can’t spray it right into Bee’s face!” Mike limped over to Bee to investigate.

  “Oh, yeah, good point.” Alicia lowered her hand slightly but kept it at the ready in case more bugs fell on them from above.

  “Hold still, Bee, it’s in your hair! Give me one of those sample bags.”

  Bee, eyes scrunched close, reached into her pocket and then held one out in Mike’s general direction.

  Carefully, so as not to get bitten again, he scooped the bug from where it was caught in Bee’s Afro, which, despite being somewhat bedraggled from the rain, had still managed to shield her skin from the bug’s pincers. From the confines of the bag, the bug managed a somewhat muffled shriek.

  “Let me see! Is the same as the ones in the meadow?” Bee peered at it.

  Even Alicia’s curiosity was raised. “Hard to tell, but I think this one is different. It’s got pink stripes.”

  “I left the camera on my wristPAL running pretty much the whole time we fleeing the meadow, so we should be able to compare. Plus I have high-def footage of that first bug. Though that one did look different than this.” Bee plucked the bag out of Mike’s fingers and held it up. The bug let out a tiny peep. “They’re kind of cute when they’re not screaming.”

  “Not so cute that I want to deal with a swarm of them. Especially if they bite.” Alicia looked up at the trees uneasily. “And I'm not sure the discovery will be worth the trouble we’re going to be in for being outside during a storm.”

  “Or for going outside the Safe Zone,” Mike added.

  Alicia walked over to him, offering her shoulder to lean on again. “How’s your leg feeling?” she asked.

  “Actually, much better. I think I’m okay to walk by myself.”

  “Really?” Alicia sounded surprised.

  Mike hitched up his jumpsuit leg and peeled back the bandage. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Alicia?”

  She bent over to take a look at the wound. “It’s almost gone. How is that possible?”

  “And is that good or bad?” Bee asked. “Come on, we need to get back and have Mike checked out. We don’t want him turning into a bug himself or developing bug superpowers or something.”

  “Wait, you don’t think that could really happen, do you?” Mike’s eyes widened.

  “Bee is just kidding.” Alicia gave her a pointed look that was not without concern.

  “Of course I am,” said Bee. “But maybe take it easy with the pepper shaker at meal times for a while, just in case.” She winked at Mike and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s get going.” She put the bagged bug specimen into her pocket with the rest of the samples that she’d quietly taken on their trek, and they continued back toward the station. Hitching Kjell’s jacket back up around her waist, she pulled the sleeves tighter to keep it in place. So many mysteries. Like how to explain the strange and swift life cycle of Mike’s bite and whether it might have lasting effects on him. There was also still the issue of what had actually happened to Kjell. Had the bugs gotten him somehow? Exploring a new place was risky, and Bee thought—or hoped—that they had gotten lucky. It was sobering, and yet she couldn’t believe the amazing things she’d gotten to experience. And they’d come back with a live sample of one of the bug creatures. She’d have to see if she could put together a terrarium so they could study it. Alicia would surely help her rig something together. Something soundproof. She was good at that kind of thing.

  The fallout from their adventure, when they’d arrived back at the station, had been somewhat inevitable. Though no one had noticed they were missing, three kids, stained red from head to foot, had not taken long to attract attention. They’d been hustled to sick bay, stripped of their jumpsuits, and inspected for harm.

  “Careful of my bug!” Bee yelped as her jacket was whisked off her body.

  “Bug?” The lead med tech looked puzzled.

  This prompted the first of many retellings of what had happened, at which point all the concern had focused on Mike, whose limp had totally disappeared by the time they got back to the station. Underneath the bandage, the skin was smooth, and all signs of the bite and the discoloration around it had disappeared. Bee, Alicia, and Mike exchanged looks. While it was nice to think that maybe their adventure would have no repercussions, things were rarely that simple.

  However, they still had a live specimen, and the meadow was still there for further exploration. And for now, Mike seemed to be fine. He’d been taken away for further examination, blood tests, and scans—and the bug had gone with him for further study. Bee had been reassured that having the bug would help them better understand what had happened to Mike, and that it was inde
ed more valuable to them alive. It seemed like both Mike and the bug were in good hands.

  Once they had all been deemed outwardly healthy and fit, it was time for the formal debriefs. And the formal reprimand for going outside the Safe Zone. Apparently the sound of human screams was not a good reason for putting their own safety at risk. Bee remained unmoved. It had been the right thing to do, trying to find Kjell… who she ultimately found waiting for her when she got out of her individual debrief.

  “Iowa, beklager. Jeg er så lei meg.” Kjell’s words came out in a rush of Norwegian, before he switched to accented English. “I’m so sorry. I was out in the woods getting some samples when the weather siren went off. I realized then that my jacket was gone. It’s not so important, but my wristPAL was in it. The strap had broken earlier and I didn’t want to lose it, so…” Kjell mimed putting something in a jacket pocket. “I thought it wouldn’t be good to leave it outside, and I thought I had time, so I retraced my steps to look for it. And there it was, lying outside of the Safe Zone. I must have dropped it there in the afternoon while we were doing field work out in the meadow.” Kjell shrugged. “I decided I had no choice but to just leave it there for now. As a result, I was late getting back and very late checking in. I didn’t realize leaving the jacket there would make anyone think I was hurt… ”

  “Well, there were the screams.”

  “Screams?”

  “It’s a long story, Kjell,” Bee said with a grin. “I promise to tell you the whole thing over coffee later, but I think I’m too tired right now. I am really glad you are safe.”

  “Okay, Iowa. Ikke noe problem. And takk. Thank you.” He gave her arm a quick squeeze.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Bee stumbled tiredly towards the dorm room she shared with Alicia and Mike. Mike was already snoring away on his top bunk, just like normal. She ruffled his hair affectionately and sank down onto the bottom bunk. As she was crawling under the covers, she heard Alicia’s sleepy voice float over from the other side of the room. “They should call this place ‘Terrify’ instead of Terra 5.”

  Bee let out a snort of laughter at the bad pun. Though the day’s events could have given her nightmares, instead she found herself dreaming that she was lying on a large orange blossom, watching colorful insects float peacefully overhead.

  * * *

  The next day, Bee sat in her orchard, reviewing the footage from her wristPAL and making notes on her data pad, her back resting against one of the purple-leaved trees. Puffy clouds drifted by, and Alpha Pictoris shone brightly overhead. The weather was idyllic, with no sign of the storm. Magic!

  Crimson Sky

  by Eric Choi

  Eric Choi is a Canadian aerospace engineer, writer and editor. He holds a bachelor’s degree in engineering science and a master’s degree in aerospace engineering, both from the University of Toronto. The first recipient of the Isaac Asimov Award (now the Dell Magazines Award) for his novelette “Dedication”, he is also a two-time winner of the Canadian Prix Aurora Award for “Crimson Sky” and for co-editing The Dragon and the Stars with Derwin Mak. He also co-edited the hard SF anthology Carbide Tipped Pens with Ben Bova. Visit his website www.aerospacewriter.ca or follow him on Twitter @AerospaceWriter.

  * * *

  Press Release

  Date: Ls 117.43, 59 A.L.

  Source: The Bessie Coleman Foundation

  A Voliris 3600 lighter-than-air vehicle took off today from Yeager Base, Arabia Terra, at 07:22 Coordinated Mars Time, launching a bold attempt to set a new Martian record for the longest flight made by an aircraft. Piloted by Carl Gablenz, with funding from the Bessie Coleman Foundation and support from Thomas Mutch University, the blimp is expected to fly over 600 nautical miles in approximately 80 hours. Gablenz is scheduled to land at Laurel Clark Station on the western edge of Isidis Planitia.

  Link here for video and images of the departure.

  Every med-pilot does their own things before flying.

  If anyone were to ask about their routines, Martian med-pilots would swear that whatever they did was based on method and procedure, never superstition. Some of them, usually the grizzled veterans, hung out in the ready room, perhaps drinking coffee or watching videos or playing solitaire. Newbies might be found in the map room studying the latest mission profiles, or going over operational procedures in a simulator.

  When she wasn’t strength training in the gym, Maggie McConachie drank coffee and read journals while listening to the irregular beat of heliocentric jazz. Helio had been all the rage when she was growing up. Her dad had loved it, and she too had learned to relish its strange rhythms. She now read her journals to its siren call. Never aviation or medical journals, though—Maggie’s pleasure reading was scientific journals. Dad had still been a grad student when she was a baby, and he would often lull her to sleep by singing papers he had to read, thereby killing two birds with one stone. Maggie might very well be the only person in the solar system to find soothing comfort in the bizarre medley of heliocentric jazz and partial differential equations.

  A framed still image of Maggie as a young child, with her father at her side, broke the grey monotony of the otherwise spartan walls of her quarters. Her dad used to travel frequently to scientific conferences and would often bring his young family along. Maggie must have been around two or three Earth years old at the time the picture was taken, in a boarding gate waiting area at the old LaGuardia Airport. They were standing in front of the windows looking out onto the apron, her father kneeling beside her as she pointed a short, podgy finger at a passing airplane.

  The call came in at 08:41 MTC. Maggie was next up in the flight rotation.

  “Med-Three here.”

  The message was terse. She nodded and put down the reader, stealing a quick glance at the picture before dashing out of her quarters, the music fading to silence before the door closed behind her.

  Navigating the claustrophobic hallways and ladders of Syrtis Station, she found her way to the operations center in less than a minute. Ops was crowded, as usual, with teams of technicians seated at their workstations. Liu Huang, the Air Search Coordinator, turned to her and nodded as she entered the room. In the middle, surrounded by banks of screens, was Charles Voisin, the chief Search Master for the Mars Search and Rescue Service at Syrtis Station. Maggie approached Charles, carefully squeezing through narrow rows of equipment and workstations.

  “Good morning, Maggie. I have an excellent mission for you.” Charles was a slight man of medium height. His angular face was crowned by curly dark hair, with a neatly trimmed moustache and large soulful eyes that always had slight bags under them, as if he never quite got enough sleep. Maggie thought Charles looked a little bit like her dad when he was young. “We have an aircraft down.”

  “Where’s the ELT?” Maggie asked.

  Liu uploaded a panoramic map to the wall screen. A flashing icon with the registration M4-LGA indicated the approximate signal source from the downed aircraft’s emergency locator transmitter. “Arabia Terra, near the southwest rim of Antoniadi Crater.”

  “That’s getting awfully close to the bingo fuel radius of the chopper,” Maggie said, referring to the farthest distance she could safely fly before having to either return to base or find an alternate landing site for fuel. The latter were extremely rare on Mars.

  “There aren’t any permanent settlements at Antoniadi yet. Who’s out there?” Maggie paused for a moment. “Oh, for the love of... It’s that guy trying to set the record, isn’t it? Carl...Gablenz?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he’s only been up since...what, yesterday, and he’s in trouble already? As if we’re not busy enough already without having to pull damn stunt pilots out of their self-inflicted messes.” Maggie made a face. “Isn’t he supposed to be rich? Can we send this playboy the bill?”

  “We do not go after people for costs just because they have the money to pay for it,” Charles said gently. “Someone gets lost or goes down, we go
help them. That’s our job.”

  “Who says universal healthcare is dead, huh?”

  Charles shrugged.

  “All right, then. Liu, get me the METARs and PIREPs,” Maggie said, referring to the meteorological aviation reports and pilot weather reports. “Start with the upper level weather—wind speed, bearing aloft and temperature. I’ll also need the forecasts and updates for the target area as well as current weather on-scene, especially site visibility.”

  “Roger that,” said Liu. He called up a display. “We have a low pressure trough approaching the crash site from the northwest.”

  As Liu continued with the weather briefing, Maggie pulled out a tablet to prepare her flight plan.

  “We have requested Mr. Gablenz’ medical records from Earth,” said Charles. He consulted another display. “The Harmakhis-7 satellite will be passing over that area in about twenty minutes. We will transmit all data to you en route as it becomes available.”

  “All right, Charles.” She pronounced his name Anglo style, with a hard “ch” sound.

  “Soyez prudent, Maggie.”

  She looked at him with a blank expression.

  “You have no idea what I just said, do you?” His moustache twitched in amusement. “No matter, although I wish you would at least try to pronounce my name correctly.”

  Maggie tapped the tablet to file her completed flight plan. “Just make sure the coffee’s hot when I’m back.” She dashed out of the operations center and went to put on her biosuit. Ten minutes later, she was on the pad.

  MarsSAR employed the Bell-Xīnshìjiè BX-719A helicopter. A two-armed dexterous robot nicknamed Chop-Chop performed near-continuous systems diagnostics and routine line maintenance for the BX-719 on ready standby. The ready vehicle was further checked every couple of hours by a human technician who performed a more detailed inspection and then signed-off the helicopter as ready to fly. This minimized the time between a call coming in and when the med-pilot could be dispatched.