Glory on Mars (3 page)

The room was a top floor suite and, as she lifted her
hand to knock, the door opened. She didn't recognize the man who
tipped his head politely, but he was dressed in khakis and a Colony
Mars blue ground-support shirt.

"Please come in. Your crewmates will be here
shortly." He waved her inside.

Emma stepped into a large sitting room and looked
past the upholstered chairs to a splendid breakfast buffet across
the room.

"Please, help yourself."

She was starting on a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs
when her crewmates arrived and happily filled plates for
themselves.

"I don't know what this meeting's about," James said,
spearing a perfect strawberry and holding it up. "But I
approve."

The doorman bustled around, pouring coffee for each
of them and offering a carafe of warm cream.

"Mademoiselle." He turned, holding the coffee pot
balanced against a crisp white napkin.

A slight, elderly lady in a formal business suit
quietly entered from the suite's next room.

"Mademoiselle Lambert, may I present Claude Krueger,
Liz Brown, James Moore, and Emma Winters." He nodded at each of
them in turn. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mademoiselle Amelia
Lambert."

Claude leaped to his
feet and the others followed. Mlle Lambert was Colony Mars'
benefactor, a wealthy reclusive
patron
whom no one, as far as
Emma knew, ever met.

Mlle Lambert stepped forward and shook Claude's
outstretched hand, shook hands with Liz and James, and turned to
Emma.

"I've looked forward to meeting you, Doctor Winters.
I've known your father for many years."

"My pleasure," Emma said uncertainly.

Damn, she thought. Does everyone know my father?

"Jason, champagne for my guests, please. Then take
something for yourself and relax."

The doorman pulled an ice bucket and bottle from
under the buffet tablecloth and popped the cork. He conjured
crystal flutes and served Mlle Lambert, then Emma and the other
settlers before retreating out of sight. Emma didn't think he
relaxed.

"I might inquire how you like your rooms," Mlle
Lambert said after a sip. "But I imagine you are more interested in
why I asked you here."

"Why, yes, mademoiselle," Claude said. He recovered
his manners faster than the others. "It's a great honor..."

"Rather a great surprise, don't you think?" Mlle
Lambert's eyes sparkled over a mischievous smile. "I have a special
request. I thought I'd deliver it in person.

"You probably know the settlers at Kamp have cut off
their live video feeds. The colony's artificial intelligence system
is recording everything, but the settlers have voted to limit the
feed to Earth. Right now, we have access to one imager in the plaza
bay, the most public portion of the nederzetting."

"It's understandable, isn't it?" Liz asked. "They
want privacy after Ingra's death."

Mlle Lambert pulled a pad from her pocket, laid it
flat on the table, and called up Earth Scan's 3-D image. A
miniature sphere glowed and spun above the pad.

"Understandable,
oui
. But it does not help us
enlist public support. It does not help with fundraising." She
tapped the pad again and a bar chart, like a handful of pencils,
floated in mid-air.

"Here are donations, here's time." She ran a finger
along each axis. "People are frustrated when they can't see the
settlers, can't hear their reactions. They lose interest and that
reduces donations.

"Colony Mars plans to keep sending settlers forever,
but in practice, we can only send missions as long as we have
funding. My people use Kamp's feeds to produce weekly
infotainments. Access to live feeds is a perk for our premium
subscribers.

"I can fund Colony Mars for a time. Sale of my Tuscan
estate, for example, bought your transport ship. But it's my hope
that Colony Mars will continue to send settlers long after I am
gone." She closed the chart display.

"I am a determined woman. All the women in my family
are willful. When we choose to accomplish something, we succeed,
and that is the attitude needed to colonize Mars. Technology may
keep you alive, but attitude will allow you to thrive."

"Perhaps you understand the situation," Mlle Lambert
said. "Once you join Kamp Kans on Mars, perhaps you will favor the
video feeds."

Liz and James nodded and Claude frowned. The little
speech reminded Emma of her father, but she didn't need more
inspiration.

"I don't think the first thing I want to do is start
an argument with the other settlers," Emma said.

"Very wise. Keep in mind the colony is not yet
self-sustaining. We will launch ships through mission seven, one
every twenty-five months - then we must skip a few years, so ships
don't arrive at the height of Mars' storm season. After that... we
shall see. By then, perhaps there will be enough resources on Mars
for the colony to survive without us."

"Mission seven. We'll have twenty-eight settlers on
Mars by then," Claude said.

"Twenty-seven." Liz corrected him quietly.

Mlle Lambert sipped her champagne for a moment.
"Twenty-seven are not enough settlers to satisfy the experts, as
you know. But, with luck, perhaps enough for humanity to have a
permanent home on Mars."

She rose from her chair.

"Of course you must do what you feel is right. But it
would be a very sad thing to be both the first and the last humans
on Mars."

Jason appeared and opened the door behind her.

"Please enjoy your breakfast," she said. "A human
foothold on Mars has been my lifelong dream, and you are making it
come true. You have my gratitude."

She gave them each a nod, turning to Emma last.

"Your father never mentioned me, did he?"

"I'm afraid I don't remember..."

"Quite right. Good luck Doctor Winters." Mlle Lambert
stepped through the door and Jason followed her. There was the soft
click of a lock turning.

"Well, I'll be..." Claude continued to stare at the
closed door.

"She seems to like you," James said to Emma. "What do
you think of this business with the vid feeds?"

"It's close to eight months before we enter Mars
orbit. Maybe things will sort themselves out," Emma said. She
walked back to the buffet and picked up a wedge of watermelon.

"It's seedless, Liz."

"Too bad. We don't have any watermelon seeds with
us."

They were leaving so much behind.

I'll have to request that watermelon seeds be added
to the next mission, Emma thought.

Chapter Four:
Farewell

That evening, Emma dressed for the farewell event in
a standard settler's uniform: a rust and blue striped rugby shirt
over khaki cargo pants. The versions she'd wear on the spaceship
and at Kamp Kans were stain-free, self-cleaning fabrics knit from
fibers infused with a slippery film.

At least I won't be doing laundry for years to come,
she thought, and sadly rubbed the soft cotton shirt between her
fingers.

Emma didn't usually worry about how she looked. In
robotics labs, fashion consisted of colorful frames on safety
glasses. Outside the lab, Colony Mars had been dressing her for a
couple years. But for the journey to Mars, she'd cropped her hair
short and the severe cut didn't enhance her square, pale face.
Tonight was a party, so she tried to fluff her hair out around her
ears but didn't bother with makeup - there'd be none on Mars.

There was just one last duty before the farewell
party, a final media conference in the convention wing of the
hotel.

She was walking down the hall with the rest of the
crew when her link beeped.

"Huh, it's Dad," she said to Liz. "I'll be along in a
minute."

Her father's face appeared over the link. He usually
wore a solemn expression, but tonight he looked grim.

"I'm starting a new line of asteroid mining bots, and
I need a group leader. I'd like that leader to be you. Your own
lab, and of course you'll pick your own team. We'll start with a
research-oriented budget..."

"What? Dad." She interrupted him. "What are you
talking about? I'm on my way to Mars. I'm at Spaceport America
now."

"I know that," he said. "But you can do more for the
company on Earth than on Mars. Would you rather take over the
future Colony Mars contracts?

"I want you to stay."

Emma stopped dead in the hallway.

"What? You encouraged me to go. What about all those
speeches you made? What we learn will benefit humanity - the lure
of the unknown - the noble experiment to inspire future generations
- that exploration is in our DNA. What about the benefits to the
company by ensuring our bots are part of a scientific
breakthrough?"

"It's not just the company." He wore an odd, strained
expression.

"To survive you've got to maintain a bubble of Earth
on Mars. If that bubble bursts, you'll die."

"You've seen the technical specs..."

"No one knows the technology better than I do." He
took a deep breath. "I'll miss you, hon."

"We never see each other anyway." Emma waved her
hands in exasperation. "We can trade messages - just like always,
every couple months." She felt inexplicably angry.

"You don't have to give up Mars. I've got contracts
right here at home for future missions. Take your pick."

"Look, Dad. I'm going. Nothing changes between
us."

"I'll miss our dinners together when I'm in town." He
sounded hurt.

"You want me to give up a dream for dinner once a
year?"

Liz glanced over a shoulder at her. Emma took a deep
breath and calmed the shrillness in her voice.

"Dad, you've got pre-launch jitters. Everything we've
planned over the past few years - me and you - it'll all be good,
you'll see."

She hurried to catch up with the crew and whispered
to Liz what her father said.

"His wavering is natural," Liz said. "It's hard to
say goodbye. But we're lucky. We'll have contact with our families,
and all our favorite book and picture files. That's more than most
immigrants had throughout history."

"Did it give you second thoughts? Saying goodbye, I
mean?"

"I've cried, but - no. Mars or bust." Liz shook her
fist with a thumbs-up.

"What about Ingra? You have medic training - do you
think someone else will go crazy?"

Liz shook her head. "Who knows? But it's worth the
risk. Expanding the spiral of creation is the purpose of life."

Emma retreated to her own thoughts. Liz belonged to
SolSeed, dedicated to seeing life take root among the stars, as
she'd often said. Mars was humanity's first step and Liz wasn't
worried about personal deprivations. Emma didn't have a cosmic
purpose to comfort her.

In the small conference room, Colony Mars
functionaries ushered the crew to seats at a long table.
Logo-festooned banners hung from the table and two staff
psychologists were already seated. A dozen folding chairs faced the
table, all empty. Emma was used to these internet press meetings.
As each journalist was tapped by the coordinator, their hologram
would pop up in a seat and a question would be read into her ear in
English, out of synch with the lip movements of whatever language
the questioner spoke.

Most questions tonight were about Ingra's suicide and
Emma was happy the psychologists answered those. They offered
assurance that the colony would survive - serious answers tinged
with optimism.

A dark woman popped up in the front row.

"My viewers wonder, how is this colony different from
the space missions we're used to, from the European Space Agency or
from NASA?"

The public information officer answered, but Emma
could imagine Filip Krast nodding for all the mission
controllers.

"Letting the settlers manage their own lives in
space, accepting that we're not in charge anymore. It's as hard as
any engineering challenge."

Finally there was a familiar question, one asked all
the time.

The image of a pale man with sagging jowls appeared
on their left. The crew turned their heads. It was easier to be
engaging if they pretended he was really there.

"Why go to Mars? You'll be the most isolated humans
who ever lived. Why, especially, do you want to live the rest of
your lives there? I'd like to hear from each of you... Miz
Brown?"

"Earth's a fragile orb. Something catastrophic could
happen - natural or manmade. I'll be making life
multi-planetary."

James couldn't resist adding something.

"If dinosaurs had a space program, they wouldn't be
extinct."

"Noble, but, Miz Brown, is there nothing
personal?"

"There's the opportunity for transcendence, to grow
spiritually, and gain a greater appreciation of life."

Claude got a faraway look whenever he answered this
question.

"To gain new knowledge."

"How about creating wealth? An entire world of
untapped resources? You're a geologist - isn't that what you do?"
The jowly man was persistent.

"Geo means Earth, so I'm a lithologist now - I study
rocks on Mars." Claude shook his head.

"And - no. One reason that people are fascinated by
Mars is that it's beyond our current culture. Earth can't make a
profit from it. It makes no economic sense. We go for science."

James was their most popular spokesman. He kept a
little speech ready.

"Humanity evolved in Africa - so why aren't we all
still there? I think it's because of what we are - what we do. We
wander. We explore.

"Half a millennium ago, Europeans set out to conquer
the Earth for gold, glory, and god. Well, Claude wants to study
Martian rocks - that will be our Martian gold.

"Liz is called to carry life to a barren world, a
sacred obligation to god.