Glory on Mars (5 page)

"This has to go in deep enough to ensure capillaries
will grow into the chip..."

Emma looked away until the doctor pressed a bandage
over the area.

"The chip doesn't relieve you of your exercise
obligation," she said as Emma pulled her shirt on. "But avoid
lifting anything heavy with that arm for a couple days."

Emma hurried off to a briefing on feline care that
had been shoehorned into the schedule. She'd never paid much
attention to Lunar Base news before, but now learned a few of the
Loonies spent their spare time figuring out how to keep cats on the
Moon and had been happy to donate a kitten.

The final week before leaving Earth was filled with
briefings and medical tests. Emma fell into her bunk each night too
tired to think, thankfully asleep before she hit the mattress.

Chapter Six: Goodbye
Earth

On the morning of the first launch attempt the crew
was awake before dawn. New Mexico's rainy monsoon season was over,
so weather wasn't a big risk for an August launch, but the ground
team carefully reviewed the forecast. The morning was clear and all
systems were ready.

Emma dropped her small personal duffle bag at the
edge of the embarkation stairs. Red lights outlined the launch
building so her eyes adjusted quickly to the lingering darkness and
stars shown despite the eastern sky lightening to gray. James
dropped his own bag next to her.

"I hope you enjoyed your last opportunity to use
toilet paper. It's a perfect morning, so we're sure to launch."

Emma could only work up a faint smile.

"I never thought about it much before," she said.
"But I'm going to miss the stars."

"Yup, atmosphere's too dusty for much stargazing on
Mars," James said as he rocked impatiently on his feet. "And
there's no full Moon to swoon over, either. Just a couple little
rocks zipping by overhead."

Ridiculous to notice the stars, Emma thought. I've
never spent much time looking at the sky.

Ground teams were loading the spaceplane - half the
seats had been removed to allow for their cargo. Emma watched as
they moved canisters of fish and mealworms, each in its own life
support unit, and packs of sturdy young plants. Food for the body
is food for the soul, as Liz would say. Last on board were cases of
seeds packed in nitrogen.

The transport ship that would take them to Mars had
blasted into Earth orbit months ago atop heavy-lift rockets. Today
the crew and the rest of the live cargo would follow. An
atmospheric ferry overhung the track above them, blocking a view of
the spaceplane on top.

After a final briefing, the settlers, dressed in
their uniform of cargo pants and striped shirts, walked up the
stairs, waved back at the cameras mounted on the launch building,
and stepped through the spaceplane's hatch. The pilot welcomed them
like they were tourists. He had nothing to do until the ferry
released the plane at the top of the atmosphere, so he busied
himself ensuring his passengers were comfortably strapped in. Emma
felt the tingle in her gut grow as the ferry pilots called out
their checklist over the comm system.

Just hang on, Emma thought to herself, letting her
breath out slowly. Nothing to do but hang on.

The hatch was sealed, the stairs retracted, and the
craft began slowly accelerating. They each had a window and Emma
watched as they circled the ring until the increasing speed forced
her to relax back into her seat. There wasn't the slightest bump
when the craft transferred to the launch ramp tracks. The ground
dropped away.

The ferry fired its onboard boosters and vibrations
shook the ship. With a terrifying thrill, Emma wondered if
something had gone wrong, but the ship settled into a steady rumble
beneath her and she loosened her grip on the armrests.

The pilots kept up a running commentary as they
tacked through bands of strong winds. They skirted the jet stream
near the top of the troposphere and continued up to the edge of
space. The curve of the Earth stood out distinctly and the sky was
black. At maximum velocity, Emma's weight disappeared and only the
harness straps squeezed her torso.

Emma was glued to her window when the pilot announced
separation. The ferry clamps disengaged, thrusters fired, and Emma
felt the seat drop under her. After a moment to clear the ferry,
the plane pilot engaged his ion engines, and the force of
acceleration pushed Emma back into her seat.

It wasn't long before the engines cut out and they
were weightless again, cruising towards the Collins Space Dock. The
dock was located at a Lagrangian point, a spot where the gravity of
the Earth and Moon balance, where their transport ship was
effectively parked. The Moon was a disk faintly illuminated by
Earthshine and thinly rimmed by a crescent of light.

The pilot announced they were free to leave their
seats.

Liz pulled herself close to the window looking down
on Earth, turned to view the Moon, and back to Earth. White clouds
swirled over a dark ocean as the edge of a continent appeared on
the curve of the planet.

"I've never felt closer to God," Liz whispered.

Within an hour they spotted the ship with the
enormous Moon, now half illuminated by the Sun, hanging beyond.

Settler Three didn't look much like a spaceship. The
heavy-lift rockets and aerodynamic nosecone had been stripped away
and sent back to Earth, leaving a cylinder. The solar collectors
below the habitat module were still in their stowed position and
three small engines with individual tanks hung on the aft end,
fueled with hydrogen and oxygen mined from ice at the lunar poles,
ready for the journey to Mars. Airlock cylinders had been welded on
by the Collins teams and protruded at regular intervals. Once in
Mars orbit the ship would disassemble and each module would land to
become part of the settlement, connected at those airlocks.

It looks like something I made in kindergarten from
cardboard tubes, Emma thought as she pressed against her
window.

The spaceplane slowed and rolled, putting the ship
out of view. Finally a shudder ran through the cabin as the pilot
locked the docking clamps and the Collins dockhands opened the
hatch.

Emma floated slowly through, crinkling her nose at
her first whiff of the ship's air, like hot metal, a smell picked
up from ions in space and brought in on the dockhands' gear. James
slid past her like a swimmer under water.

"This is the coolest sensation I've ever had - better
than the simulator pools. Hey, you okay?" he asked. "You look a
little green."

Emma smiled at him but continued her slow progress
with one hand on the hull. She'd passed the motion-sickness
screening. They all had. There was no relief in zero-g and it could
be debilitating, even fatal if vomiting led to dehydration and
unbalanced electrolytes.

Vomiting was not the thing to think about right now.
Emma gripped a vent cover and let a spell of dizziness pass. She
firmly ignored the white plastic bags in her pockets and pointedly
looked away from James spinning in a slow roll.

"Ship: I'm Emma. Activate my transponder."

"Welcome aboard, Emma." The transport ship's
artificial intelligence had a vaguely feminine voice. They each
announced their presence.

Emma had trained in an identical habitat module. She
could cross the living quarters in eight steps on Earth, though
steps didn't mean anything in zero-g. She released her grip on the
vent, kept her feet aimed at the gray deck, and let the air current
move her gently away. An oval table was mounted left of center, so
it was a straight shot across to the second airlock where the
Collins team's shuttle was docked. To her right were cocoon-like
bunks and to her left, the galley. Macronutrient cylinders stood
against the hull there, floor to ceiling, and there was a food
printer to extrude the nutrients into different shapes with,
hopefully, appealing textures. In front of the galley, exercise
equipment was bolted to the floor.

An Earth Scan sphere floated at the ceiling, glowing
green. The settlers' arrival was streaming live, another reason to
avoid thinking about her stomach.

Emma clung to a chair at the central table to survey
her new home. The habitat module was configured for its ultimate
use in Mars' gravity, so floor and ceiling, up and down had
meaning. The airlocks entered on the lower level, the living space.
Above was the life support level with sanitary facilities. Wiring,
ducts, and all the electronics were installed in the cylinder's
hull, hidden behind panels for the most part. The exceptions were
sets of three small LED lights, each below a finned black heat sink
protruding from the hull. They provided supplemental cooling for
the individual servers behind panels - specialized, fault-tolerant,
with a very low failure rate - the physical brain of the ship's AI.
Emma maneuvered in a slow circle, checking their status. No red
lights glowed, which was good. In half or more, the center green
light blinked a slow on-off rhythm. Those were installed spare
capacity on stand-by. The rest were in use as the solid green
lights indicated.

Watching her crewmates explore the habitat, Emma
appreciated the effort Colony Mars made to balance their skills.
Emma came to Colony Mars with a degree in robotics, and she also
knew a lot about all the systems in the exploration rovers. That
gave her a passable knowledge of life support, control systems, and
comms applicable to the ship and the colony, too. As a lithologist,
Claude would prospect for raw materials vital to their survival on
Mars, but was cross-trained in life support, including all the
utility installations required as the nederzetting expanded. James
had primary knowledge of communications and the satellite systems
orbiting Mars as well as AI administration.

Emma was cross-trained in biodynamics - the system of
farming that was Liz's specialty. Liz further cross-trained in
medicine. They all had first aid training, of course, but Liz could
perform basic surgery. One of her most important tasks would be to
ensure they kept up with psych evaluations - since Ingra's suicide
those were scheduled monthly. The AI could remind them of the
schedule but Liz was the human being who would, if necessary,
cajole them into compliance.

Emma reached one arm towards the bunks to guide
herself and stowed her personal bag. She could touch both elbows
against the inside wall of her compartment, but at least she'd have
a modicum of privacy. She zipped it closed leaving everything she
owned inside. It was a wild, liberating, scary thought.

Chapter Seven: The
Cat

Dockhands in yellow coveralls glided back and forth
from the spaceplane, bringing in cargo.

"Was there any trouble with the knarr?" Emma asked a
nearby woman. She was feeling steadier already and balanced against
her bunk with fingertips as she gestured towards the habitat
floor.

"The cargo module, I mean."

She'd seen original Scandinavia knarrs on a trip to
Demark, to museums preserving graceful wooden cargo boats from the
Viking era. It seemed a grand term to apply to the can attached
below them, studded with airlocks and packed with supplies - and
with their exploration vehicles.

"We don't have access to the knarr during the
flight." Emma was worried about her rovers and walkabouts. "If
anything shifts, we'll be out of luck."

"Everything's fine, ma'am," the dockhand said. "The
cargo's packed so tight I doubt you could slip in to check even if
there was a hatchway through the deck."

As the spaceplane was unloaded, Emma followed a
deckhand with the fish canister "up" to the life support level.
With his help, she hooked it into the water recycling system while
Liz unpacked seedling pots and slotted each plant into special
lighted cabinets.

There were herbs, barely sprouted, to give gardening
on Mars a head start. And fist-sized banana root corms that would
be kept cool to slow their growth - there wasn't enough space for
full sized banana trees.

Emma floated down the ladder head-first to watch the
dockhands stow their seeds. They tossed the hard-sided cases from
hand to hand. The last man stood on the ceiling with his toes
braced under stowage brackets.

Another dockhand glided in from the Collins' shuttle.
In one hand he held a large yellow duffle bag and in the other a
small pet carrier with mesh sides. The carrier meowed
insistently.

"Here's your cat," he said. "We picked a rusty
colored kitten for a rusty colored world. Better not let him out
until all the airlocks are sealed. He's a hellion." He grinned
proudly. "We put a transponder on his collar for you. Ship - this
is the cat."

"Welcome aboard, Cat."

Liz pushed off and bounced into him.

"Oops, sorry," she said as he steadied them both
against a handhold.

"How old is he?" She took the carrier and peered
inside.

"Eleven weeks. He was born on the Moon and he's been
on the dock platform with us for a couple weeks now, so he's used
to zero-g."

Two more dockhands drifted in behind him, carrying
large sacks against their chests.

"Here's your cat food. There's about six months worth
of dry food for use on Mars, double bagged so the little tike can't
claw the sacks open. In space you'll have to rehydrate these
squeeze packets. Inject water here." He fished a packet from a sack
and pointed. "Squeeze the food out here. The cat knows how it
works."

The dockhand with the dry food kicked off towards the
ceiling to stow the sack. He hung there as more sacks tumbled up to
him from someone in the airlock.

"You better show me how the zero-g litter box works,"
Emma said, swinging away from the life support hatch to let another
dockhand through. "I see it's already plumbed into the air system
on the vacuum side."