The Far Shore

by Glenn Damato

  The captain can call and oversee a disciplinary hearing for anyone accused of serious wrongdoing. No penalties or retributions can be dispensed unless a jury panel of five randomly selected people hear the facts of the case and agreed that a penalty is warranted. Neither the captain nor the assistants are eligible to sit on a jury panel.

  How much longer will this take? We still need to vote on who will be captain. And that’s probably a hopeless cause. They’re going to elect Jürgen and we’ll still have the navigation problem.

  I drift off during a break and get a poke from Alison. “We’re going to ratify.”

  Vijay’s voice is going hoarse. “Flight directors, please confirm your entire complement is present and awake. We shall now consider ratification of our Charter. Does anyone have further points or items to bring to the floor? Does anyone seek a temporary moratorium before ratification, say twenty-four hours? A final chance to mull over the details?”

  Ryder yawns. “Let’s do it!”

  “Before we take a vote on ratification, I would like to read a short preamble. Please note that our little union doesn’t yet have a name. I don’t think that will pose a problem, because when we arrive on Mars, we’ll be the only organized group of beings present. So I hope.”

  Giggles from all over. Giggling is easier when you’re exhausted.

  “We citizens,” reads Vijay, “in order to form an enduring and effective government, preserve justice, ensure tranquility, promote the general welfare, and to secure the sanctity of self-determination for ourselves and our descendants, do ordain and establish this Provisional Transit Charter of 22 Taurus.”

  No sound except for the vent fans. Ryder looks at me, then nods.

  Scattered applause plus more heads nodding. Vijay instructs us to confirm our agreement by stating our full names. Everyone ratifies in turn, and when his chance comes, Jürgen pronounces his name in a serious tone. Ryder shouts his own name, whoops, and performs three midair summersaults.

  “This Provisional Transit Charter is now unanimously ratified on this twenty-second day of Taurus, Mars year fifty-three. Under Article three, I will serve as temporary speaker until we elect our first captain.”

  Indra sleepily asks, “Right now?”

  Someone yells, “Eat first!”

  Ryder pulls the meal printer open. “Anything in the rules that says we can’t eat and vote at the same time?”

  Tess thrusts her face into the vid. “I nominate Jürgen Morita!”

  That triggers more applause.

  “Nominations will be heard when we re-convene,” responds Vijay. “We will now break for thirty minutes. Consider your nominations carefully. This assembly is hereby adjourned until ten.”

  Ryder rubs my back, but the frown tells me it’s not a congratulatory gesture. He nods toward the warning panel.

  OXYGEN GENERATOR 2

  HIGH O2/H2 DIFFERENTIAL PRESSURE SHUTDOWN

  OXYGEN GENERATOR 1

  HIGH ELECTROLYTE TEMPERATURE SHUTDOWN

  OXYGEN GENERATOR 3

  LOW FLOW: 101 L/hour 22 percent nominal

  O2 AUTO-BLEED 18:52:01 PCT 22 Taurus 53

  O2 BANK 18.06 bar

  90 percent nominal

  43 hours remaining

  I rub my eyeballs with my fingers. “This is almost three hours old.”

  Eric’s already on vid. “Don’t start screaming over this, and don’t jump to any conclusions.”

  I bang my fist against the panel. “Three hours! Why no alarms? You turned off the alarms!”

  “Yes, because of the meeting, I turned off the alarm annunciators.”

  “Estúpido!”

  Now comes Eric’s turn to scream. “Why interrupt the meeting? What’s the benefit? It would have been a distraction, a distraction to me, because if there’s one person here who can nurse these machines until we land, that’s me. Only me. I want respect!”

  “We’ll make you captain,” I tell him as if speaking to la niño.

  Ryder places a hand on the back of my neck and pulls himself closer. “We’ve been breathing oxygen from the reserve bank.”

  “That’s what they’re there for,” Eric snarls. “Reserves! Endurance went almost twenty percent into their reserve this morning. They’re back up to ninety-eight percent.”

  I lower my voice. “I thought you fixed these shutdowns.”

  “I did! But I need to find the perfect thermal balance and spin all five spacecraft just right to achieve that balance.”

  Ryder points out, “They’re not designed to run inside the TMI. They’re supposed to run inside an orbital station, where people can reach them.”

  “Ironically, it wouldn’t help if we could reach them,” Eric tells us. “They don’t need repairs. They need better heat balance. Too hot, the electrolyte temps zoom out of spec. Too cold, the hydrogen line clogs with slurry.”

  I notice something else. “Number three is running, but with low flow. Explain.”

  “If I had to take a guess, it’s the seals. O-rings and gaskets. The seals can’t take the periodic high temps.”

  “Eric, listen to me. We need to find a way to keep the discharge line warm so we can manage the electrolyte temps, even if it means going outside the airlock.”

  “Those units are a meter inside the TMI.”

  “The hydrogen discharge lines reach the outer skin. Maybe we can run a heating wire into them.”

  “There are obstructions, and the heating wire would probably just burn a hole in the line.”

  Ryder folds his arms. “Think it over. That’s all anyone can ask.”

  “Eric, I’m sorry about what I said to you. But I don’t think these fuckers are going to last another five weeks. We need to come up with an alternative. Does Jürgen know about this?”

  “He does.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing. He trusts me.”

  ◆◆◆

  Now I’m hungry. Everything on the menu looks delicious. Meatballs in barbecue sauce with noodles always seemed too heavy. Tonight it sounds perfect.

  We’re barely done stuffing our faces when Vijay is back to business. “All present? We will now hear nominations for the office of captain. As per Article three, all citizens are eligible for nomination. Someone who is not the nominee must second a nomination.”

  Paige thrusts her arms over her head. “Jürgen! I nominate Jürgen!” She claps her hands three times.

  Vijay acknowledges, “We have a nomination for Jürgen Morita.”

  Tess cries, “I second that nomination!”

  Paige giggles. “I beat her.”

  Jürgen accepts in his crisp and confident tone. Before the cheers end I blurt, “I nominate Vijay.” Blank-out on his last name.

  One heartbeat.

  “Cristina, sincere thanks for your confidence. I must decline the nomination. I feel I have made my maximum contribution for the time being.”

  I want to respond, but I do another blank out. My mouth is open like a fish. Before I can utter a syllable Ryder roars, “I nominate Cristina Flores for captain!”

  A puff of air escapes my lips. Ryder grins wider than anyone in history who hadn’t just caught a solid hit of shab.

  Vijay says softly, “I second that nomination.”

  A female voice, possibly Indra. “Me too.”

  Brain freeze.

  Vijay calls, “Cristina?”

  Ryder taps the side of my head. I manage to say, “I accept . . . the nomination.”

  My mind rejuvenates and my head goes woozy. Ryder and Alison tug at my arms, and that brings some reality back. Reality is five stained white coveralls with legs pointed in different directions. Sunlight sparkles off Alison’s golden hair.

  A female voice nominates Eric.

  “Hell, no! I’m not the captain type. I need to focus on the purely technical aspects.”

  Vijay requests additional nominations and there are none. Paige asks, “So now we vote?”

  “Let’s recess
to give both candidates a chance to gather their thoughts. In five minutes we hear their opening statements, citizens may pose questions, and then, yes, we vote.”

  I face Ryder, but he speaks before I do. “You’ve been acting like a boss, so why are you so amazed you got nominated? Sure didn’t think it would be me, huh?” He grabs my shoulders. “You want to be captain?”

  “I accepted, didn’t I?” Belly flutter. Meatballs in barbecue sauce was a bad choice.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I can be a better captain than Jürgen,”

  Paige murmurs her annoyance. She’s hooked on Jürgen. How many others are too?

  “Jürgen knows how to give speeches,” I tell her. “And he knows a lot about Mars. But what else can he do?”

  “Don’t rag on Jürgen,” Paige answers. “He’s an excellent planner. He has vision and he fires up my energy.”

  “Energy for what?”

  Ryder wipes his index finger across his lips. Shut it. He jerks his head toward the hygiene pit. Once inside he shuts the hatch and faces me. “You got about three minutes to come up with something better.”

  “Why did you nominate me?”

  “Conviction,” Ryder tells me. “Jürgen talks pretty. He’s ambitious. People like him. I like him. How can we help it? He looks good, sounds good, speaks to our highest emotions.”

  I snort. “Sounds like you’re going to vote for him instead of the one you nominated.”

  “No, I’m voting for you. So will a lot of people. Inside, we’re scared. Make that terrified. Jürgen’s good for us and makes us feel better. But you are better. You’re smart, Cristina, and you have the courage of conviction. Now here’s the problem. You see what needs to be done, but people are tools to you—a means for Cristina to accomplish an objective.”

  “I’ll do it all myself, then.”

  “That’s my point! You can’t do it all yourself. You need us. I think you can win this thing if you bring us together.”

  The pit’s shrinking. He’s a centimeter away, barely touching. I say, “I wasn’t planning to tell people, ‘vote for me and here’s your training assignment.’”

  “You have it in you. I can feel it. Now you have to feel it. When you got us to sing—”

  “Sing! Great idea.”

  “What I mean is, sing with ideas.”

  We return to the much better-smelling air of the control center. Alison takes my arm. “I’m going to vote for you, but Jürgen’s so mouthwateringly gorgeous I can’t stand it.”

  “I don’t know who I’m going to vote for,” Mikki announces. “And it probably doesn’t matter.”

  I tell her, “As soon as this is over, we’re going to come up with a way to keep the hydrogen discharge lines from clogging.”

  Vijay is back exactly on time. “We should keep as informal a structure as we can. Both candidates may speak and field questions, then we vote. Is this agreeable?”

  Too much happening all at once. Rosies in chest pocket, heart doing some crazy thumping. “Good plan, Vijay!” I respond. “Jürgen, you go first. We all know how much you love to talk.”

  A gasp from Alison. Ryder frowns. Vijay gives a tense laugh. A mistake? Felt right, anyhow.

  “Thank you, Cristina,” says Jürgen. “This will be short, as I had the opportunity to introduce myself in the hospital basement. Seems a lifetime ago, but it was only a week.” He shakes his head. A new dramatic effect? “Who would have thought, at that time, they would be among the first humans to forge a path to Mars?” He holds up both arms. “I float before you humbled by your confidence in me. You are the exceptional ones here. Two hundred and thirty-five went through that basement. You are the best of the best. Your intellect is in the top one percent, and you know how to learn, and you can endure discomfort and uncertainty.” He softens his tone. “There’s something more important that ties us together. I think you already know. Call it a spark, a spark of defiance. Your mind has always been free, even if you had to hide it.”

  I might vote for him myself. Jürgen stops and closes his eyes as if trying to think. But he knows exactly what he’s going to say.

  “You chose hope over fear. We’ll see the growth of a community of free men and women living beyond the reach of Harmony, and close enough to serve as a beacon of liberty for the rest of humanity. This I believe; this I know. I’m asking you to vote for me today, and honor me with the opportunity to be your captain during this historic undertaking.”

  Cheers and applause. My stomach spins like never before. Picante graso meatballs.

  Vijay calls, “Cristina—”

  The words come tumbling out. “A minute ago, somebody said it doesn’t matter who’s elected captain. I disagree. I think it matters. It matters a lot.” Too harsh. Too cold. So what? “We’re in a fight for our lives. If I seem strict to you, that’s because we have a daunting job ahead. No room for error, and no going back.”

  Take a breath. For an instant the only sound is the hum from the ventilator fans.

  “Why did they launch six spacecraft? Because maybe only one or two will make it. There are thirty of us still alive. I expect all of us to be alive this time next year, and the years after that, so we can fulfill a dream that sounded crazy when we first heard it.”

  Settle down, muchacha. But the words want to fly. “First it was the thrusters. Then the oxygen generator failures. Look at your GNC. There’s no arrival time, is there? We might not be able to breathe, and we’re off course. My first act as captain will be to fix those problems. I have ideas—”

  “Wait!”

  It’s Eric, and he’s not happy.

  Vijay says, “Please retain questions until the candidate is finished.”

  Eric shakes his head. “I don’t have a question. I just—”

  “Please, sir,” Vijay insists.

  I take a deep breath. “So, does it matter? Jürgen is an amazing speaker. I love listening to him. But we need more than a speaker. As captain, I will appoint Eric as my technical—”

  What?

  My head snaps backwards.

  Something, some kind of dark object, drifts past me toward the left. Shouts and laughter from everywhere. I stammer, “What was that?”

  Alison cries, “Oh, disgusting!”

  I turn back to the vid. Get on track, now. “With Eric as my technical advisor, we’ll be in a better position to proactively resolve our problems.”

  “What is that thing?” Mikki demands.

  Alison shouts, “It’s crap!”

  Paige says, “Oh, no.”

  “I am not joking,” Alison insists. “It’s a piece of crap. Look at it! There it is, by the middle sleeper.”

  What’s the use? My cheeks burn red hot. “That’s all I have. I’m open to questions.”

  Mikki growls, “Somebody get it and put it in the suction hose.”

  Ryder asks, “What am I supposed to use, my fingers?”

  “Use a vomit bag. They’re in the square blue locker.”

  I hear my own voice on the com. “. . . as my technical . . . What was that?” Someone’s looping the vid. The dark blob floats past. My eyes go wide in astonishment, my mouth bursts open. It tumbles out of view.

  Roars of laughter. The vid loops again. And again.

  Mikki snickers, “Ryder, this is your work.”

  “Not mine. Mine aren’t that dark.”

  The jokes and giggles die down. Alison rubs my shoulders and offers a pouch of tea. Nobody did this deliberately—it’s just bad luck—crappy luck. Bad luck doesn’t happen to people like Jürgen.

  “Cristina,” Vijay calls. “Would you like to continue?”

  What else is there? Blank out. Brain a cold rock. “I think I mentioned everything important I wanted to cover.”

  Dead quiet except for a lone giggle. Eric coughs. “I would like to say something.”

  Vijay responds, “The floor recognizes Eric Rahn.”

  “I just want to point out that I’m managing
everyone’s O2 generators to keep your oxygen bank topped off. Note that your bank is close to one hundred percent right now, except for Resolute, which is at ninety-one and rising. I’m a little concerned that Cristina’s remarks are going to be taken to indicate these units are broken and there’s a life-threatening problem developing. I assure you that is not the case. Cristina’s suggestion to stuff a heating element down the vent lines isn’t necessary and would probably damage the line and put the unit permanently out of commission. Okay. I just wanted to make sure everyone’s got a handle on this.”

  Such a stupid strategy to rant about the equipment! But what else is there? Jürgen knows what to say. How can anyone beat him?

  A girl on the Resolute identifies herself as Jade Compano. She asks Jürgen what criteria he would use to select the five members of his team that would search for evidence of life on Mars.

  “Enthusiasm is my main criteria,” he responds. “Not academic degrees. Simply zeal and ambition for discovery. Someone like you, Jade, with your background in physics, has the same opportunity as a psychologist such as Hannah or a molecular engineer such as Laine.”

  What happened to technical knowledge as the main criteria?

  I can’t help myself. “Shouldn’t our molecular engineers be managing our printers? Growing food this summer depends on our manufacturing tons of polymer for the greenhouses.”

  Why did the floating turd have to happen?

  My question is ignored. Jürgen takes control. He calls each person by name and he’s familiar with everyone’s educational background and interests.

  Ryder speaks up. “I have a question. But not for Jürgen or Cristina. This is for everybody. Since we left, how many of you have regretted your decision?”

  That word regretted hangs in the air like a silent fart. All joyful banter vanishes. Ryder’s next words ring like two hammer blows. “I have!”

  He doesn’t say a word for several seconds. Again, just the ventilator hum. “I never would have believed I could feel that way. I’m adapted to most of it now, but it still hits me while trying to fall asleep. What have I gotten myself into? Maybe just made my life a lot more interesting and a whole lot shorter.”

  He massages his forehead. Alison reaches out and runs her hand down his spine. “There was a point just after launch. I was mentally exhausted, wound-up tight, scared, and afraid of showing it. I flew to pieces.” Ryder extends his arm and pulls me into the vid. “This person, just as exhausted, probably just as terrified, kept it together and did the right thing. I’m going to stop thinking about regrets. It’s done, we’re here. Let’s all stop the regrets and do what we can to improve the odds. If Cristina is captain, our odds improve.”