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Enoch's Challenge

Page 13

by Warren W Ward


  "You got it, Cris. Can you believe a mouse almost brought us down?"

  "You mean the Viet Cong? Yeah. I wonder how the war is going? I miss the news."

  "You and me, both," Cris said sadly.

  In about an hour Cris was done. He had repaired the damage and buttoned everything back up.

  "Jason, we are ready to try it again. But there is one other thing. There is a second antenna wire. Maybe we should follow it to see where it goes first, and then fire up the transmitter."

  "Sure. Which one is it?"

  "It starts here." Cris said.

  They followed the wire through the maze of wires, vents, and tubes. It led to the auxiliary control console. They hadn't messed with that console as it wasn't being used, and nothing important was connected to it, or so it seemed. This console had screws, not latches, so that was another reason not to mess with things. So Jason took off the front panel after removing 16 screws.

  When the panel came off, Cris heard Jason sigh.

  "What is it, Commander?"

  "You won't believe this, there is a radio in here. Evidently when they replaced the original Apollo mission transceiver they stored it in here for emergencies. I guess they forgot to tell us about it. I suppose they wanted us to only use the special CIA system to keep everything under wraps. So instead, we have been deprived of comms without any good reason."

  "Is that a second set of power and antenna cables in there, too?"

  "Yes. I suspect they put those there for us to use in an emergency, but forgot to tell us. I think I'll hook it up later just to check it out."

  "Good. But let's call home, first."

  "You got it, Colonel. You got it."

  So, they nervously went to the radio and turned it back on. They cautiously checked things over and sure enough, they had white noise. The radio was working.

  "Houston, this is Frodo 1. Are you guys awake?"

  Silence for seven minutes.

  Then, "Frodo 1, this is Houston. Where have you guys been? We've all been worried about you."

  "Houston. Frodo 1. We've had a problem with the Viet Cong."

  Another seven minutes went by.

  "Frodo 1, this is Houston. Say again? No wait. First, what happened out there?"

  "Houston. Frodo 1- Well, the mice struck again. They have invaded Modules A and B, and they trashed the antenna switch. I had to repair it. And, no thanks to you, we found the other radio hidden in the Auxiliary Console. Couldn't you have at least told us we had a backup?"

  Seven minutes later –

  "Roger that, Frodo 1- We’re sorry about that. We were going to tell you about that just before you got to your destination. We had to keep this a secret as long as possible. By the way, the emergency channel is 7125 MHz uplink and 8425 MHz downlink. But don't use it. Just monitor it. Please confirm."

  "Roger that, Houston. I will hook it up later. How do we switch between radios?"

  Seven minutes later-

  "Frodo 1, Houston. The antenna switch is automatic. Just don't transmit on both radios at the same time. Now tell us about the Viet Cong?"

  "Houston, Frodo 1. Sorry about that. We named the mice the Viet Cong. It seemed appropriate, as they seem to be trying to kill us!"

  Seven minutes later –

  "Frodo 1, Houston. Got it. Sounds good. We have a suggestion for you. Since the mice, er, Viet Cong, haven't gotten into Module C, then you can suit up and evacuate the air in Modules A and B. Just be glad they weren’t in Module C. You couldn’t evacuate that module without killing the garden. There should be plenty of air for what you need to do."

  "Roger that, Houston. We were wondering about that. We’ll give it a try after we get back from vacation. Frodo 1 out."

  "You're cruel, Captain," Cris said.

  "Not as cruel as they were for shanghaiing us in the first place. Let them sit on that for a while."

  "Let's get rid of the Viet Cong, Colonel."

  "You got it, Captain."

  They suited up and made sure everything was secure. The airtight door to Module C was prepared and checked. Then they released the air through the emergency valve.

  "Captain," Cris said over the spacesuit radio. "How long do we give it?"

  Jason said, "Let's give it two hours, just to be sure. I can't imagine they can go can two hours without air. So, what do we do for two hours?"

  Cris said, "Want to play Simon Says?"

  "No."

  "Where's your inner child, Captain."

  "How about all grown up. Maybe yours should too Colonel, or is Simon Says what they taught you in Air Force Officer School?"

  "Well...not only that. But I don’t remember the other stuff, though." Cris looked at him thoughtfully. Then he grinned. “Oh yeah. They taught us to salute, too. I think…”

  Jason just shook his head.

  They busied themselves as best as they could suited up for two hours. They couldn’t do much in their suits–no reading, no games, and no fun. Then Cris went and closed the valve and let air back into the room. After they removed their suits, Jason said, "I don't think we have enough O2 to do that too many more times."

  "I agree, but I didn't evacuate the airlock. I let the air we had in the airlock back inside. So we didn’t lose as much oxygen as it may seem."

  "That's good," Jason said. "We may be glad we did it before this mission is over."

  "Roger that. I like breathing."

  "Another wimpy Air Force tradition, I suppose," Jason added smiling.

  Jason went over to the spare radio and fit it into a spot in the auxiliary console where an unused panel had been. The panel was larger than the radio, so he had to do a bit of jury rigging. But in half an hour it was connected. He turned on the radio and tuned it to 7125 MHz on the transmit side and 8425 MHz on the receiver side. He had no idea what frequencies the CIA was using, but obviously it was also the X-band, or they wouldn't be able to use the same antenna.

  Fortunately, the dish antenna maintained a constant position toward the Earth on its own. The navigation system controlled the antenna, not the radio.

  Soon the standard space noise was causing the meter to fluctuate slightly. It was working.

  "Houston, Frodo 1, here. We have the emergency radio connected as directed. We will monitor that frequency in case you or I have radio troubles. I feel safer with a backup."

  Seven minutes later –

  "Roger that, Frodo 1. How are the Viet Cong? Did you have any problems with the air evacuation?”

  "Houston, Frodo 1. That’s a negative. All went as planned. Now we just have to find the dead mice before they stink up the place. Over."

  Seven minutes later –

  "Roger, Frodo 1. If you are lucky you might find them floating around the cabin. That would make cleanup easy. My guys can send you some mouse based recipes, if you like. Over."

  "Houston, Frodo 1. Negatory on the recipes. I don’t want to give the Air Force guy any ideas. We are going to go to sleep for a while. The Viet Cong have really worn us out. We will call after our rest period. Frodo 1 out."

  Jason and Cris were indeed tired. It had been a long day. But, they got the radio going again, found and installed the backup radio, and, just possibly, killed the rodent VCs. Yes, it was a very good day.

  They strapped themselves in their seats, turned the lights down, and went to sleep. They had just about gotten into a good REM sleep when Jason heard the radio calling. Surprised, he went to the radio and there was nothing there.

  He had just gotten back to sleep when he heard, "Apollo 6. Mars calling."

  Jason woke first. [1]"Cris. That’s not funny."

  Chris didn’t respond. He was still asleep.

  He turned over and drifted back and tried to continue with a dream that he was in the middle of.

  About four minutes later they heard, "Apollo 6. This is Mars calling."

  Jason realized this was the real thing! He would have jumped up, had it not been for the lack of gravity, when he unders
tood that it wasn’t Cris or the main radio but the auxiliary radio. He floated eagerly over to the radio console and picked up the mic. "Mars, this is…Apollo 6."

  Cris was by his side in an instant.

  They waited for what seemed like an eternity.

  Then, four minutes later, "Apollo 6, this is Mars. We are very pleased to hear that you got your radio going again. We were surprised when you went silent. We worried that something terrible had happened. We are also glad to hear that you solved your mouse problem."

  "Mars, this is Frodo 1, the Commander of Apollo 6. Frodo 2 is my crewman, Colonel Cris Kelly. It is nice to know someone cares. Are you aware of our situation?"

  Four minutes later:

  "Frodo 1. We are quite aware and very concerned. We know we asked a lot of you in putting this mission together, but there is more riding on it than you know. As you get closer and the delay decreases, we will give you more information. Just be aware, you are safe with us. We mean you no harm. In fact, you are vital to our mission, as well. Please change your frequency to 7105 MHz uplink and 8405 downlink, and turn down your transmit gain to minimum. We would rather not have our transmissions heard too far. We will still be able to pick you up from the backscatter from the antenna, but Earth will not. We will reduce our power so that you, and no one else, can hear us. Call us after you wake up. We understand you were just going to sleep. We will be here."

  "Mars, this is Frodo 1. Will do. We will meet you on the new frequency 7105 and 8405 MHz. Frodo 1 out."

  Jason and Cris looked at each other. They didn't know what to say. They had just talked to someone on Mars. MARS! Just a few months ago they would never have even imagined something like this would happen.

  "We better contact Earth," Jason said.

  Cris replied, "Oh yeah. I forgot about them for a minute."

  Back on the CIA radio, "Houston, Frodo 1 here. We have contact with Mars. I repeat, we have radio communications with Mars."

  Seven minutes later:

  "Frodo 1, this is Houston. We know. They contacted us to let us know. Please keep us informed. We advise you to cooperate with whatever they say. Houston out."

  Jason looked at Cris. "When we wake up let’s make contact with Mars to verify the new frequencies. But we better get some shut-eye. Maybe after we get some sleep we can find our friends floating around."

  "I hope so, Commander. I think they have caused enough trouble already."

  "I agree. But I wonder if our troubles are over. We still have four months to go. Let's keep our fingers crossed." Jason said.

  "Let's do more than that. Let’s keep all of our toes crossed, too! Uh, maybe that won’t work. Well, good night Captain, and be careful of your breathing, until we get the last mouse poop."

  "Thanks for the thought, Cris!”

  It took a while before sleep overtook them.

  Chapter 13–Trouble in Eden

  As the days went on, the travelers were finally getting within two months of a Mars orbit. They had heard from Mars a few times, but recently there had been no contact, although the delay was getting down to about two minutes. The delay to Earth was closer to eleven minutes. But they weren't hearing from Mars, which was a disappointment. They had tried over and over to initiate contact but had not heard a word. It was disconcerting to say the least.

  Despite the fact that Mars was getting bigger and bigger in the viewport, they were on the verge of going crazy with the waiting. They were tired of reading the same books over and over again and playing the same games ad nauseam. This routine was getting very old. The news from home was not all that good with the Vietnam War protestors rioting and some cities on fire! Really, it seemed that no one cared about their plight anymore. Were their only friends the limited people at Mission Control and the Martians? And it seems that the Martians had already deserted them…

  It was reaching the point that the slightest irritation would set one or the other of the two astronauts off on a rant. These astronauts needed to get to Mars or they were going to go crazy and kill each other!

  Jason made sure Houston was aware of everything involved with this mission in the hopes that one day, on a real Mars mission, those astronauts would not face the same problems Jason and Cris did. It wasn't easy giving an objective report, however, as there was always an undercurrent of resentment that they had been duped into the mission in the first place.

  Luckily, the Zero-Contained garden was doing amazingly well, although they now had to almost exclusively use the artificial growth lighting system. The nuclear generator was keeping up just fine, but the battery drain was suddenly getting very heavy. By the end of the daily sun cycle in the garden, they were down to 20% of the normal light level. They could easily see that it was quite a bit dimmer than when they started.

  Cris was doing his routine inspection of the ship one morning when he said, "I think we are going to have a problem before too long with the batteries. Right now we are using 50% of our battery power, while they are still being charged by the generator. I know we have a dedicated nuclear generator for the garden, and one for other modules, but the sun is so weak where we are that we will need more and more from the lamps. I don't know if it will be enough with the duty cycle we have right now. I think something may actually be wrong with the lighting system. Got any ideas?"

  "Well, Cris, if we discharge the batteries any more, they won't fully charge for the next cycle."

  "I realize that. But what else can we do? I like to eat." he said angrily.

  Jason was keenly aware that they were out of the freeze-dried food that NASA had prepared. That hadn’t lasted as long as planned, even with the loss of John Dyer. But, there was nothing he could do about it, now. It was a pending disaster!

  Jason responded with a measured remark, as he didn’t want things to escalate. "Something is wrong. These generators should have provided more power than we could use. We better check with Houston."

  Cris had calmed down. He asked, “In the meantime, do you know if we can use some of the power from the other generator if the garden’s generator can't produce enough on its own?"

  Jason also felt more composed. Having problems to solve gave them something important to do and changed their attitude. He said, "I was wondering that, too. That’s why we should ask NASA. They might have an idea, since their guys designed the system."

  "That's well and good, but we are the ones that have to deal with it!" Cris was still a little testy.

  "You are right, of course! We will see what NASA says, and we'll go from there." Jason did not rise to the bait. He got on the radio and called Houston.

  "Houston, Frodo 1 here. We have a problem. The single power source doesn't seem to want to keep the batteries charged now that we are using the artificial light so much for the garden. Do you have suggestions? Can we tie the two nuclear generators together somehow to handle the situation? Over."

  Silence for 15 minutes.

  "Frodo 1, Houston. We have been looking over the situation and there is a problem. You can't just tie the power sources together directly, as they will conflict with each other, nor can we tie the inverters together because there is no way to phase them. We will look into it further. But one generator should give you more than enough power, so this is puzzling. Stand by. Houston out."

  Well, that didn't go as planned. Jason and Cris looked at each other wondering where to go next.

  Jason said, "We are obviously totally dependent upon the normal artificial light, now. Fortunately, it is obvious that the plants thrive on it. But with the sun so weak out here, we might be in serious trouble if it fails! Our stores are getting thin. We had planned on the garden supplementing us enough until we could get to Mars. I’m hoping that they will feed us when we get there–assuming they have our kind of food."

  Cris was composed now. He remarked, “I hope the Martians don’t live in a sulfuric acid environment and think rocks are food.”

  “Don’t be silly, Cris. I’m betting on them exiting on
a pure silicone diet with them breathing pure chocolate fumes!”

  "OK, Captain. I’m sure you are right. So, with the garden we do what we can. Hopefully NASA can give us some other ideas, but for now, we have to handle this on our own. We have about seven weeks to go. We made it this far, now let's see what we're made of. I’m sorry I’ve been short with you. This capsule is starting to drive me nuts! But now you have me thinking about chocolate…"

  Before Jason could answer they heard, "Frodo 1, Houston. Boys, we don't have much advice for you. We will keep our best people on it, but the doctors say you can get by on 1000 calories a day for several months. Your clothes will fit a bit looser, but no one except you will know. Send me a list of stores and the status of the garden. Maybe we can come up with something. Any word from Mars? Out."

 

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