Out of the corner of her eye, Ewa noticed that Piotr had stood up. He was the third crew member assigned to this shift in the command module. Piotr came from an influential Russian family, and he had acquired the engine for the Mars for Everyone project through his connections. This engine was supposed to bring them into Mars orbit and eventually down to the surface.
“We’ll figure it out,” Chuck said.
Ewa noticed that he shot Piotr a hard look. Just let it go, his eyes said, but the Russian was not a man who could leave well enough alone if he felt he was being mistreated.
Piotr drew closer. “The engine is rock-solid,” he said quietly. “The model was tested over many years, and we got it for pocket change. We couldn’t come close to affording any of the engines the private manufacturers offered us. You wouldn’t even be sitting here if my uncle hadn’t known someone who—”
“Maybe it would be better if I weren’t sitting here,” Henrik shot back angrily.
“Do you want to go back to your Mama?” Piotr asked. “Wee Henrik would like to be fished out of the ball pit? As soon as a few problems pop up, you Westerners start whining. I’m right, don’t you agree, Ewa?”
Ewa said nothing, but she retreated a few steps, sensing they were on the verge of a real fight. If anyone had told her before today that Henrik would raise his hand against any of their fellow travelers, she would have simply laughed, but now Henrik seemed angry enough to hit someone.
She had to agree with Piotr in part. It felt like a clear boundary line ran down the crew, and it seemed to have something to do with the former Iron Curtain, despite the fact it had been gone for over fifty years already. The enthusiasm for the Mars colonization project, which was funded through donations, had whitewashed-covered this boundary, but the thin paint was now flaking away and the line had reappeared.
“I—” Henrik said, balling his fists.
“You? You can’t take any more?” Piotr just had to keep picking at him.
“That’s enough!” Chuck cut in as if he was dealing with two yapping dogs. All that was missing was him grabbing them by the scruffs of their necks. The glares continued.
“Enough,” he repeated.
To Ewa’s surprise, the warning worked.
“Idiot!” Henrik muttered, sitting back down.
He leaned over the control panel as if he needed to check something. Piotr hadn’t seen that coming. He opened his mouth several times, but couldn’t seem to come up with anything to say. Then he spun around. As the floater—who would cover either the pilot or the commander in their absence—his place was in the corner of the command module.
“Just stay calm,” Chuck said. “The technicians have sworn up and down that they’ll have the engine back up and running soon.”
Whatever... Previous experience had proven that these promises were relatively hollow. The engine had obviously sat around a little too long in the old spaceship dockyard where Piotr’s uncle had found it.
“Besides, I contacted the Endeavour expedition on Mars yesterday. They are considering if and how they might be able to assist us,” Chuck continued. Piotr and Henrik whipped around to face him as if the commander had detonated a bomb on the bridge.
“You did what?” Henrik asked.
“You heard me. I’m Commander of this ship, and it’s my responsibility.”
“You should’ve asked us,” Piotr said, now back up on his feet. “According to the foundation’s statutes, we’re supposed to collectively make any decisions that impact our day-to-day operations.”
“We aren’t on Earth anymore. You might have forbidden me to establish contact.”
Ewa attempted to visualize a team discussion. Chuck was probably right. Among the twenty people on board, there were several who placed a high value on the independence of the MfE project. That wasn’t all that surprising. After all, everyone here was crazy enough to have left the security of their home planet without the prospect of a return ticket. Some of the crew hadn’t only broken off their own personal contacts, they were fed up with the old human race in general, which was represented in the international Endeavour Mars expedition. Adding to that was the mentality of ‘us up here, them down there.’ MfE—Mars for Everyone—had been painstakingly financed through donations, while the four astronauts, who had taken the first step on Mars before them, were being paid through tax funds.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Piotr said.
“But it’s done now,” Ewa said. “And so what, really? It’s just one option. We don’t have to accept their help. We can keep circling the sun and try again in a year to enter Mars’s orbit.”
Chuck shot her a grateful look. Continuing in orbit around the sun really wasn’t an option. They didn’t have enough supplies to last out another year.
“And what did the folks down there say?” Henrik asked.
“They have to figure out what their options are. And there’s still a chance the technicians will fix the engine.”
Ewa had heard enough. Besides, her watch had just vibrated. It was time to feed the animals. She was actually a chemist, but on this project, everyone wore several hats. At least she had always been interested in agriculture.
“See you later, boys,” she said in farewell before floating over to the hatch that connected the command module with the rest of the ship.
The MfE initiative hadn’t been able to afford a large ship like NASA’s, or even the SpaceX colony ship that was following them. Instead, they had purchased two recycled Dragon modules and arranged for them to be shot into space as secondary cargo. As a practical measure, the construction crew for the final design had traveled on the ship with them. Back then—must have been almost three years ago—Ewa had followed the TV coverage of all the developments. The media had dubbed them ‘the crazies’ because they wanted to undertake, on a minimal budget, a voyage without a planned return. And yet hadn’t the settlers who had moved lock, stock, and barrel to the Wild West been just as crazy? Most of Ewa’s fellow travelers would have seen that journey as a form of insanity, and many of them still thought like that. In any case, their ship had almost reached Mars!
Something told her that she had seen and heard enough. It was time for her to leave. Ewa opened the hatch to the interior space. The stench washed over her like a wave, making her feel slightly nauseous. Of course, there was a reason for everything. It didn’t stink because the crew refused to bathe, but rather from the ever-present dampness. They had been living for over five months in a balloon-like structure, which was filled with damp air and cooled from the outside by the chill of space.
Between the two cone-shaped Dragon modules, they had constructed a framework out of a titanium alloy, the most expensive they could afford. And then they had fastened fabric panels to the framework, similar to the way that tarps can be attached to an internal structure. When that was done, they pumped the entire thing full of breathable air. The Santa Maria was a gigantic balloon, but in this instance, the whole structure wouldn’t pop if the surface developed a hole in it. This was because, like an anorak, the flexible walls were divided into various chambers that were filled with water. The water provided excellent protection against the interplanetary radiation, and it offered stability in the frigid temperatures that existed in space.
The boldly-adventurous construction had been another reason that most people on Earth predicted that the project would fail. However, the reality was different—they had made it. Ewa floated through the hatch and closed it behind her. Warm, jungle-like humid air enveloped her. As little of the humidity as possible was allowed to enter the command module, where it could damage the electrical systems.
During their long journey, several problems had developed that made it clear that the spaceship builders had been somewhat lacking in terms of their building technology knowledge. The life support system was large enough to transform the exhaled carbon dioxide into oxygen and to purify the wastewater. However, nobody had thought about the large amount of p
erspiration that would be produced. It clung to the walls as droplets, but because of the state of weightlessness, the moisture didn’t separate from the surfaces. Since it didn’t roll down and gather into puddles, it was impossible to wipe away.
Over time, the drops coalesced into a film that spread everywhere and grew thicker. The only way to cope with this dampness was to continually dry the walls, but this was like tilting at windmills. The free shift that each of the twenty crew members had, once their primary duties were finished, was filled with working out and cleaning. In other words, their days were divided as follows: twelve hours of work, four hours of athletics, and eight hours of sleep.
Ewa had observed her fellow travelers. The psychologists had obviously done an excellent job evaluating them, considering they hadn’t devolved into murder and manslaughter despite the absence of any private space. Of course, there were regular conflicts. Shortly after their departure, three couples had quickly formed. This was part of the plan reflected in the selection of ten women and ten men. Mars for Everyone had been imagined as a colony that would grow naturally on the Red Planet. However, the relationships hadn’t even lasted a month. The Santa Maria wasn’t exactly optimal for couples. Would this change in the hard reality of Mars?
She floated past her colleagues, en route to the lower area, greeting a few of them. The one crew shift was hanging on the lateral walls in their sleeping bags, looking for all the world like plump bats. The others were either working out or cleaning up the condensed moisture. They chatted quietly to avoid disturbing the sleepers. Everyone agreed that the best invention ever was the super-lightweight, sound-absorbing headphones that an electronics manufacturer had sponsored. One advantage of being weightless was that the headphones hardly rubbed at all, regardless of your sleeping position. They functioned amazingly well.
The animals were kept in the lowest level of the second space module, the terminus of their balloon as it were, a drainage plug of sorts. At least this meant that the animals weren’t contributing to the stench in their space-traveling tent. Ewa truly enjoyed her time in this area. This wasn’t really due to the animals, which she viewed more as her responsibility than as her darlings. However, the climate control in this module operated at just the right capacity. Thus, the air down here was as fresh as in the command module, and yet she had something here that was a rare commodity on the ship—peace and quiet.
Ewa slipped through the hatch and into the ‘zoo module,’ as it was jokingly called. They had been given animals that reproduced easily and could provide valuable nutrition. This menagerie included a guinea pig family, several rabbits, and bantam chickens that laid remarkably large eggs.
Nonetheless, they were placing their highest hopes in the insects that were living in their own boxes. Ewa had never been scared of bugs, which was why she didn’t mind taking care of the locusts and other insects. Ewa opened the first box. Her eyes were met with a great scrambling. Golden mealworms, which were a precious source of protein, twisted and turned in mounds of wheat bran. She had to search for the pupas and transfer them to a different box, since these would soon turn into mealworm beetles that would eventually lay more eggs for new worms.
Not long after their departure, complaints had arisen that her zoo occupied the entire module. However, when she warned her fellow crew members that a few bugs might occasionally escape from their boxes, the protests had fallen silent. Since that time, she hadn’t been disturbed even once while at work.
Ewa had been surprised by how little the weightlessness had affected the insects. They had already reproduced enough to supply one or two meals for the crew, but no one had ever asked for them. The chickens were grateful for the fresh food, though. She shut the box and turned to the buffalo worms, the larval form of the lesser mealworm beetle. Lastly, she checked on the locusts, the so-called ‘desert shrimp.’ Honestly, she thought, they taste more like chicken.
The chickens always seemed to do well. There was an almost endless supply of worms for them, and in return, they laid a steady stream of eggs. Back on Earth, these birds were ground dwellers, but up here they flapped around happily. The ability to navigate space seemed to be deeply rooted inside them.
She always saved cuddling the guinea pigs and rabbits for last. They hadn’t adjusted to weightlessness as well as the birds, and they sometimes somersaulted like helpless fuzz balls inside their cages. This was why Ewa had installed several low ceilings in their terraria so that they now had use of a cave-like space. Since then, the animals’ appetites had increased substantially. She gingerly lifted one of the rabbits into her arms. He snuffled her sweetly, and she scratched his fur.
“So, how are you doing today?”
His fur was smooth and shiny, and his breathing even. This was the first rabbit to be born on board. Ewa was interested in seeing how it would deal with gravity once they landed.
A deep rumble suddenly resonated throughout the ship. The sound came from overhead, but she could feel it even in the module’s intermediate floor. It sounded as if someone had pounded several times in quick succession on the lid of a giant barrel.
Sol 4, NASA base
The ground was vibrating.
Lance could feel the unbelievable power of the robotic drill. The tiniest of tremors planted themselves in his spinal cord and then climbed to the top. He recalled how his father had once let him hold a hammer drill. The tool, which seemed to have been almost as large as he was at the time, had felt like a strong, angry animal—perhaps a bear—but it had responded to even his littlest movement. He had been in control of powers that far exceeded his own. That had been the moment he decided to become an engineer.
He didn’t have to push the drill into the ground with his own strength. The machine could do that itself, and the more progress it made, the more successful it was at doing this, since the weight of the stone that it was removing from the ground was making it heavier and, therefore, more powerful. He controlled the tool with the assistance of a small remote control. The sensors were linked to his helmet screen. Whenever he looked down he could see the green outline of the drill, as well as the type of stone it was presently removing.
It’s actually too easy, he thought. We’re here on a strange planet that we’ve never even stepped foot on before now, and we already feel at home. Or no, it’s more like we’re on a trip to an exotic locale. Everything is packed. We’ve been vaccinated against the worst infections, and we are dutifully peeling our fruit before we eat it. There didn’t seem to be any real dangers—or was that just pure arrogance?
Lance walked to the other side of the machine. It was run by two chains and reached the height of his chest. Its task was to construct a ditch that ended precisely at the base. This was where the first extension would go. A laboratory. The stone that the robotic drill was gathering would be partially melted down and then poured to form the slabs that would become the walls of the lab. For a roof, they would set a large iron slab on top of the walls to increase the insulation against the intense radiation from outer space. Since Mars had no ozone layer, too much of this radiation reached the planet’s surface.
Lance gazed around. Until recently, this area had still been quite virginal. But over the past two years the robots had been cruising around and preparing for the landing of their lords and masters, who had finally assumed their thrones. Humanity had conquered a second planet. It sounded strange, but the thought of it made him proud.
“Hey, you two,” Mike hailed by radio.
“Yes?” Sarah responded.
Just this morning Mike and Sharon had complained that they still hadn’t been allowed to leave the base. But Lance was in charge of its construction, and Sarah had insisted on accompanying him as the medical officer. She wanted to keep an eye on him for health reasons. There hadn’t yet been a good reason for either Mike or Sharon to go out for a walk on the surface. Curiosity wasn’t a deciding factor. The expedition was being too tightly run for that.
“Sorry, but you have t
o come back inside,” Mike responded.
“What about my work?” Lance asked.
“The drill will get on just fine on its own.”
“And if it comes across something that it can’t assess?”
“Then it will wait for you. I need you in here more than it does. Your mind, primarily.”
“What’s wrong, Mike? The crazies?”
The Mars for Everyone project had been a pain in his ass even back on Earth. How could anyone be so reckless? The fans had reminded him of adolescents. But if they’d gotten themselves into danger... well, they were adults, after all.
“You’ve nailed it. But it’s much worse than you’re thinking.”
As the sliding door shut behind him, he heard a woman’s voice coming from the loudspeaker. Her voice had a faint Eastern European accent. Five minutes later, he and Sarah had peeled off their suits and joined the others in just their training suits.
“Ewa Kowalska from Santa Maria,” Mike said as an introduction. “And this is Sarah Jaeggli and Lance Leber. Lance is our engineer. If anyone can help you, he’s the one.”
“The Santa Maria?” Lance asked.
The young woman smiled. She had short blonde hair and blue eyes. Her nose looked like it had been broken in the past. “After Christopher Columbus’s flagship.”
“Ah, right. I hadn’t made that connection.”
The woman didn’t really look all that crazy. She radiated something that he couldn’t identify at a distance, but he could still sense it. “How can we help you?” he asked.
“I have already filled Mike in,” she replied. “Shortened version: When we tried to reactivate the command module’s engine, it tore free from its mount. This caused the pressure in the module to plummet.”
“Oh. I assume there were casualties?” A shiver skittered down Lance’s spine all the way to his tailbone.
“Yes. Five all told, including our commander, Chuck Manners.”
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