14
Sunwing
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget Little Colorado canyon,” exclaimed Will, as the ranger approached the outpost. “No matter how many times we revisit it, this first trip will always be the most spectacular.”
“Oh, I agree,” said David. “The name ‘Little Colorado’ is well chosen, Will. It captures the grandeur.”
“Not to mention the colors; ‘Colorado’ means ‘colored’ after all,” added Ethel. “I want to go farther up it, next time.”
“Two more day trips, and we may be able to make it all the way,” replied Will. “It’s getting pretty narrow and steep now, though.”
“The key definitely is getting a lander up there,” said Laura. “And ‘the Bench’ you explored just before you returned is the best place to put one down. With an overnight shelter and more solar panels than you can easily haul on your back, the lander will revolutionize the effort.”
“Oh, absolutely,” agreed Will. “Otherwise, we’re talking about a thirty-kilometer hike, up and back. That’s really pushing the capacities of our suits, even with three hand-stocked resupply stations. But do you think we can persuade mission control to risk a lander in such terrain?”
“Sergei’s good piloting them remotely. He brought lander 1 down within a meter of its target. And last week he brought the Olympus down just two meters from the center of the landing zone after a twenty-two kilometer flight. The beacon at the resupply cache you set up on the Bench gives us a radio target. We’ve got six automated landers; it’s not like we can’t afford to crash one.”
“I’m impressed that they’re letting us take chances like this,” added David. “Here we are, just four months into the mission.”
“Well, sending four of us up the canyon, and setting up resupply points, reduces the risk pretty well,” replied Laura. “The canyon floor involves serious rock climbing in only two spots, so the dangers of a fall are manageable, and if two of us fell, one could stay attached to a resupply unit while the other one is hauled out by the two able to walk.”
“And the benefits of the effort are incredible!” added Will. “If all goes well, we’ll have essentially walked all the way up the escarpment, sampling the whole cliff in the process, and we’ll be able to explore the highland plains above. I’m in favor of improving the trail as much as possible as we go up and down. If we can dynamite the two cliffs, I think we could build a road up Little Colorado eventually.”
Laura looked at him skeptically. “That would be an incredible amount of work. Just clearing a ramp up the talus slope and alluvial fan materials at the bottom will take two weeks of constant effort. I doubt anyone will try it in the next decade.”
“It’s the only possible route to the highlands north of here.”
Laura shrugged. “So, we’ll explore other areas of Mars first. It’d be faster to drive a thousand kilometers out of the way to get up there.”
They all sat in silence as they approached the Outpost. In the dark it was hard to see it, but once they came within fifty meters exterior lights, detecting the motion, came on. Two round humps of Martian reg and dust punctuated by holes for the windows and connected by the greenhouses could be seen. They were home.
They put on their helmets and gloves, then began to depressurize the ranger’s cab. Laura activated the two rear cameras on the portahab, which were pointed at the docking mechanism. Ethel opened the cab’s rarely used passenger-side door and stepped outside to assist with the docking. Once they were both ready, Laura slowly backed up the ranger and portahab until the docking tunnel would reach the side of the outpost, then Ethel latched it in place and made sure the seal was permanent and airtight. She headed for a nearby airlock; the others waited a moment for the cab to be fully repressurized, then headed through the portahab to enter the outpost.
“Don’t forget the samples,” reminded Laura. She reached down and picked up a vacuum-sealed bag of rock fragments they had collected on the hike, which had reached three quarters of the way to the top of Little Colorado Canyon. Will and David picked up other bags, which sat on the floor of the portahab. Then they opened the hatch and passed through the tunnel into the docking unit. Sergei and Shinji were waiting to greet them.
“Welcome home; supper’s ready,” said Shinji.
“Congratulations on the best trip yet,” added Sergei. “We’ve been listening to the banter in Mission Control; they’re still thrilled. I think the geologists haven’t left yet, even if it is in the wee hours of the morning there.”
“They’re in awe,” agreed Shinji. “Four live cameras in that canyon and four running commentaries on the geology; it was incredible.”
“We can thank the Sunwing for serving as relay,” said Will. “What were our ratings?”
“We haven’t heard, yet, but a lot of people tuned into the cable, apparently,” said Shinji.
“That’ll help,” said Sergei. “Laura, you have some sort of urgent message from Kimball. She even called me and asked me to tell you to listen.”
“It’s probably the politics about Columbus 2. She thinks Mission Control’s just about convinced to restore the second vehicle. Columbus 1 is incredibly popular around the world.”
“The Brazilians want to buy a seat, I hear,” said Ethel. “That’s one way to restore the flight.”
“Well, we need at least one more sponsor, preferably two,” said Laura.
“I’ve got to run back to the Sunwing controls,” said Sergei. “It’s still gaining altitude and should enter a zone of strong winds in a few minutes.”
“How’s it doing?” asked Laura.
“Oh, fine,” replied Sergei. “It’s been functioning extremely well ever since we got the bugs out of it. Today it performed very well.”
“It’s time to use the Sunwing to fly the first exploration package to Gangis,” said Will.
Will, David, and Ethel went to Habitat 2 to deposit the bags of samples, then they headed for Habitat 1. The greenhouse they passed through was mostly filled with bare ground; Shinji had sifted regolith, kept twenty tonnes of the sand and silt sized portions, and used them to fill plastic trays. But only ten percent of the trays, at the far end, had vegetables growing in them. Another twenty percent had plant matter and animal waste mixed with the reg, and it was moistened daily; bacteria and even worms had been introduced to begin the creation of soil. The rest of the reg was still lifeless.
They sat in Habitat 1’s Great Room and ate toasted bread that Shinji had ready for them while they took turns showering. Just before they were all preparing to sit and eat supper, Laura appeared. “Here’s the latest,” she said. “A committee is proposing that four be flown here on Columbus 2, but that two of the four make a commitment to stay two cycles; fifty-six months. That’s how they propose to solve the problem of staff shortages.”
There was a pause as they all considered the idea, then they all laughed. “Are they trying to create more divorces?” asked David. “My wife can barely tolerate thirty months! And my kids are suffering a lot!”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanted to stay more than thirty months,” agreed Will. “This place is interesting, but not that interesting.”
“Well, that’s the idea,” said Laura. “I think NASA can find people willing to stay two cycles, too. Sure, not everyone can do it.”
“This outpost needs continuity,” agreed Shinji. “When we leave, it’ll be uninhabited for nine months. That’s a long time for the greenhouses, rangers, and the equipment. Mars will need residents who stay more than one orbital cycle.”
“You’re right,” agreed Ethel.
“Well, Kimball suggests that it’s time for all of us to get involved,” said Laura. “She thinks the six of us should do a series of interviews with reporters stressing how unhappy we are with the plans to cut back Columbus 2. We have proved pretty popular, and we can make this mission even more media-friendly. She thinks that we should.”
“What about mission control?” asked David.
“They would certainly be opposed. But they can’t control us as much as they might like. We have plenty of direct access to the media, after all.”
The others looked at each other, then everyone nodded. They would talk to the media.
-------------------------------
The next morning Ethel and Will rose earliest because they
had meal duty that day. Shinji was always up early; he sat, coffee in hand,
reading the Asahi Shimbun newspaper on his attaché and occasionally
translating news of international importance for the others. David was out of
his room shortly thereafter; he lent a hand to making some scrambled eggs. “So,
when are we going to eat a chicken?” he asked as he threw away three eggshells.
“Give them another month to grow,” replied Shinji, without looking up from his paper. “Now that the greenhouse is producing plant matter for them, we can finally let their total biomass increase. The plant growing cabinets could only produce so much waste plant matter for the chickens and rabbits. All the spare plant matter for the chickens was going into egg production.”
“And for that we’re grateful,” added Ethel. “They bring powdered eggs to life!”
“I just wish Columbus 2 would bring a dairy cow,” exclaimed Will. “Powdered milk is not a great substitute for the real thing.”
“If all goes according to plan, Columbus 3 will have two miniature cows,” replied Shinji. “There will also be a separate animal raising facility. But we are talking about spending something like two hundred million dollars to build and fly the thing, remember.”
“That’s a lot of money per liter of milk,” agreed Will.
“What’s that?” asked Ethel, suddenly looking up. They all paused; there was the muffled sound of discussion—argument—coming from Sergei’s bedroom.
It grew louder, though it was still incomprehensible. Sergei and Laura were arguing about something.
Then the bedroom door opened. “Get out of my bed! Get out of my room!” shouted Sergei.
“You get out of my life!” shouted Laura in reply.
A door slammed, then another.
Silence.
Ethel looked at the others. “Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“No. Sounds like a rift.” said Will.
“Just what we need, with six of us living in three hundred square meters of space,” said Ethel, shaking her head.
“This is why relationships of that sort are discouraged,” added Shinji. “It’s hard enough to be discrete when they’re working alright, but a break up is a near disaster. As the flight physician, I am tempted to declare both of them temporarily unfit to serve as Commander.”
“Let me go talk to Laura,” said Ethel.
“I’ll talk to Sergei,” added David, who was on fairly good terms with the Russian.
Ethel walked back to the bedroom doors, which opened onto the now-empty geo-bio lab. She knocked on Laura’s door. “Can I come in?”
A pause. “Sure, Ethel. Just a second.” There was a rustling sound, and a bit of a wait; then Laura opened the door.
Ethel entered, saying nothing until the door was closed. “I guess that was pretty loud,” said Laura.
Ethel nodded. “It was hard to ignore, I’m afraid. How are you doing?”
“I’ll be alright in a little while. I just need a bit of time.”
“Shall I bring you your breakfast?”
“Ah. . . yes, my usual coffee and whatever we have.”
“Some scrambled eggs, toast, and jam; the usual. I can get you a plate full.”
Ethel headed back to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee for Laura, prepared a plate for her, then brought it back to her room. Laura was beginning to lay out clothes for the day when she entered.
“Thanks,” said Laura, looking at the coffee and the plate full of food.
“No problem. Is there anything else I can do?”
“No, not right now.”
“Do you need an ear?”
“Maybe later.”
“Have you guys broken up?”
Laura sighed. “I think so, permanently. He’s so selfish. He isn’t willing to take my feelings into account, too.”
“It sounds like this got pretty serious.”
“Well, I was hoping we’d get married. But no, he doesn’t want a commitment of any sort, not after the divorce.”
“We’ve all been burned. I guess it takes time and patience.”
“Well, I’m not going to be patient any more. I’ve been try to make this work for eight months.”
“That is a long time. I’m sorry, Laura.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at Ethel. Then the two women hugged.
Ethel hurried out. Meanwhile, David had gone to get Sergei’s breakfast as well. He returned to Sergei’s room.
“This is ridiculous. I can’t let her lock me in my room.”
“She’s in her room, too. I think this is just for a cooling off time.”
“I hope so. I won’t let her deprive me of my freedom of the outpost.” He shook her head. “All she ever wants is sex. She’s insatiable.”
David nodded but said nothing. Finally, he went back to the great room to eat his breakfast in silence. No one was in the mood to speak to anyone else. Finally, Will said “Where’s the Sunwing?”
“I checked while you guys made breakfast; last night it flew over two thousand kilometers,” said Shinji.
“Two thousand kilometers!” exclaimed Will. “My God, the winds must have been strong!”
“Sergei did manage to get it into that fast jet stream. I was thinking it was just about time to bring it down to a low altitude where the winds run east to west—downhill through the canyon—and get it back here. But it’ll take maybe two entire days to come back.”
“So much for loading the first remote exploration package on board,” said Will. “I guess we can use the next two days to set up Sunwing 2.”
“Makes sense. We can’t explore Little Colorado for at least a week more,” agreed David. They had left four half-exhausted oxygen bottles at the two recharging stations they had set up in Little Colorado. Each recharging station had two square meters of solar panels; enough to make six kilowatt-hours per sol. The station also had a miniature unit that made two kilograms of oxygen oer sol from atmospheric carbon dioxide. It would be a week before the oxygen bottles were refilled.
“I’ll bring the Sunwing down to the canyons and fly it back,” said Shinji. “I can do that in and around the greenhouse work. There are a couple of areas to photograph, too; I’ll take care of that as well. You can get lunch ready pretty fast, so the three of you have all day to work on Sunwing 2.”
“There’s also an ITV flyby of Deimos about 4 p.m.,” said David. “Sergei said he’d do it. If he’s not available, I can do it. We need the laser data.”
Will looked at the others, then nodded. “Okay, that’s what we’ll do. Except I have a television interview scheduled for 11-12:30 this morning.”
“We’ll have to work on the Sunwing around media stuff; I have an interview as well,” agreed Ethel.
They all finished breakfast and turned to their work for the day. They still remembered how they had assembled Sunwing 1, so Sunwing 2 would go faster. Will and David went to Automated Cargo Lander 4 and retrieved all the parts; in spite of their large size, each Sunwing had a mass of only eight hundred kilograms. They quickly bolted the main cargo pod together, then the first wing sections. Meanwhile, inside the habitat Ethel tested each electric motor, the fuel cell power system, and the Sunwing’s main computer. By midmorning Sergei began to put together motor pods and Laura suited up to bring them outside and attach them to the wings. Sergei and Ethel soon ran into a snag; the plastic shell of one of the tiny radioactive heaters that kept the computer at a constant temperature had cracked. They had to remove it and replace it with another unit, a relatively simple task because the alpha radiation it emitted was not dangerous.
Lunch, then supper was a strange experience because few people wanted to talk much. The conversation remained focused on their work. The afternoon’s work went reasonably quickly; the first wing sections were attached and most of the other wing sections were assembled. The electrical motors, fuel cells, and computer were brought to the work site and the installation began. By sunset the solar-powered aircraft was beginning to look familiar.
Supper was also a quiet, uneasy time. Afterward, Sergei went to his room with David. “I’m not going to stay in the room next to Laura any more; I think I’ll move to Habitat 2.”
“What? Why don’t we switch rooms? That’ll put you on the other side of this area, at least.”
Sergei shook his head. “No, I think I’ll move to Habitat 2. Besides, it’s better that we’re not all sleeping in the same hab.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” David considered. “Why don’t I move too, then. It’ll look less strange if two of us move.”
“Suit yourself.”
David went to find Will and asked him to help. He was helping Ethel wash the dishes, but she agreed, so he went to help them move furniture and personal property to Habitat 2. Shinji pitched in as well. By 11 p.m. they had both men moved to Habitat 2. Laura came out of her room occasionally to watch.
Ethel noted the others were moving out of earshot. “Well, this is one solution.”
“Yes,” said Laura. “It’s not going to do our social life much good.”
“The breakup sank that.”
Laura looked angry, but didn’t say anything at first. “This will heal. Give us a couple weeks.”
Ethel nodded sympathetically and hoped Laura was right.