19
Decisions
That afternoon Will, Ethel, Shinji, and Laura called Mission Control and talked to Heather Kimball, Jerry McCord, Armando Cruz—the first two were the main capcoms and Cruz was the main ground control physician at the time—about staying twenty-six more months. The three Houston folks grilled them extensively. David completed the inventory toward the end of the discussion, showing that the supplies could run both habitats for a year or either one for two years at nominal maintenance rates; if the filters and other replaceable parts were cleaned and reused both habitats could be run for at least two years. Much of the discussion turned to the agency’s natural conservatism, which had kept NASA out of trouble many times. But in this case the opportunities possibly exceeded the costs of caution.
By the next morning, the story had leaked and the world knew about the request. It debated the idea sharply as well. Emails and videomails poured in from the media and the Columbus 1 crew ignored them; NASA had told them to ignore them, and they had learned from their earlier experience not to disobey. Besides, they could not predict how their comments might be manipulated.
A new problem became clear to all six of them by breakfast the next morning, though; Will and Ethel’s relationship was changed forever. The platinum rings on their fingers meant they looked at each other differently, and the others treated them like a couple.
“When will you get married?” asked Laura while she poured herself a second cup of coffee.
“We don’t know,” replied Will. “The rest of April is supposed to be a rest and inventory period, May is supposed to be our first southern expedition to the chaotic terrain, then June is a time for packing and mothballing the outpost for blastoff on July 8.”
“The logical time is early June,” said Ethel. “Will will be back from the chaos, we’ll get married, and there will still be plenty of time to prepare for blastoff.”
“A wedding here won’t be hard to plan,” said Sergei. “No invitations, no wedding dress, no gifts; just a wedding cake and a ceremony.”
“But I suspect my mother will want to host something at her house in Connecticut,” said Will. “She’ll need time to plan. So we don’t want to wait too long to let our parents know.”
“And it looks like NASA will take its time in deciding,” said Laura. “I mean they’ll take a month to consider the matter. So be patient.”
“How can they take a month?” asked Will. “We’re less than six months before Columbus 2’s launch.”
“They have to plan carefully,” replied Laura. “The Syrtis and the Solis are still on their way up from low Earth orbit to Gateway. The Hadriaca has arrived, but the Apollinaris just left the International Space Station a month ago and won’t reach Gateway until late August. The two automated cargo vehicles are loaded and will reach Gateway in July. So the entire mission is already in flight. Every tonne sent to Gateway now has to be pushed by chemical engines, and that’s expensive.”
“I bet they could still push five to eight tones to Gateway with an ion engine,” commented Sergei. “After all, the ion tugs need six months to push sixteen to twenty tonnes there; a lighter load could get there faster.”
“They’ll need to ship an extra two or three tonnes of consumables,” said Will. “Plus they’ll need to send new suits and computers and probably a thirty kilo allotment for personal items for each of us. There may be additional equipment they’ll want to send knowing that three more hands are available to do work here, as well. They’ll have to load it onto the ihabs and use extra lunar fuel to send it here. I’m not sure what they should do after that; maybe leave it on the ihabs and make an extra trip up to get it, because the shuttles will be fully loaded for the trip down already.”
“I’d launch a shuttle from the Outpost to rendezvous, load some of the cargo onto it and divide the crew into thirds for the landing,” replied Laura. “It’d maximize flexibility. But never mind; this is premature speculation. Everyone has their work assignments for today?”
Everyone nodded.
“Good. We need to work hard and be very careful. Right now any kind of accident or mistake will undermine confidence in the safety of the outpost and weaken the case that three of us can stay safely. So keep safety uppermost in your minds.”
Everyone nodded. Laura’s morning peptalks had gotten better in the last few months.
They all began to head to work. Ethel went back to the plastic and metallurgical area; she was making metal supports for the two habitats’ floors. Shinji returned to the fossil research. Will and David continued to run tests on samples. Laura and Sergei headed to the landers to continue transferring fuel tanks to one lander from two others, thereby boosting the one’s total flight capacity. A Sunwing was landing later that day from Chryse, also, where it had supported a rover’s exploratory work and retrieved a sample canister.
Will was busy checking sample numbers, entering them into the computer, and matching them against descriptions when his videophone line beeped. It was a message from Jerry McCord, who had tried to dissuade him from supporting the Phobos landing a year earlier.
“Good morning, Will,” he began. Technically it was morning in Houston as well; about 1 a.m., though. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about our conversation yesterday and a few questions have come to my mind that I thought I’d ask you about.” That meant he had been asked by Mission Control to grill Will further, no doubt. “I’ve explored the moon with you, so I know how enthusiastic you are to do field work. But your love for the moon is really extraordinary; you were the most published author on lunar geology, and that after only six years of work on the moon. So I suppose you’ve found a new love in Mars. That kind of surprises me; your dissertation was on impact and volcanic features, not fluvial and lacustrine processes that are dominating the research of Mars so far. I guess my question is, are you really prepared to give up all the work on lunar geology? A second question is, are you sure you can handle the place another two years? Conditions are crowded inside and the environment is hostile outside. Four years is a long time to deal with those situations. Looking forward to your replies. Bye.”
Will was not particularly amused by Jerry’s questions. He hit reply immediately. “Let me start with the second question first, Jerry. First of all, the interior really is not that crowded. During the day we have five hundred square meters of pressurized space, including the greenhouses—which is more than Shackleton—and only about four people working in it all. At night all six of us are inside, but we have our own private rooms if we want space. So we’re not rubbing shoulders.
“As for the outside, I wouldn’t call it ‘hostile’ exactly. The suits keep us very comfortable; more so than moon suits, because there’s a cold atmosphere to remove extra heat. There’s no danger from micrometeoroids and less from radiation, compared to the moon. We all try to go outside at least four hours every other day, which we’ve found to be sufficient to counteract any cabin fever. It also provides adequate exercise; with the suits, our weight is 2/3 our weight on Earth, after all, and we have to exert ourselves a lot to move around, with the result that our skeletal and cardiovascular systems are doing better here than human bodies on the moon.
“As for your first question, geology is different here than on the moon in two ways. First, this world is more like Earth; it has an atmosphere, and water has been very active in its geology. Perhaps you’ve forgotten all the courses on terrestrial geology that I took and all the field trips I participated in. All that knowledge has come rushing back to me, and I now find myself constantly making three-way comparisons involving the Earth, Mars, and the moon. My six years of lunar research was essential preparation for my work here because it gave me a working feel for half of Mars’s geological processes. The Earth gives me a feel for the other half. Putting Mars on the map has been incredibly exciting.
“The other way geology here is different is a function of our isolation. A six-month trip to the moon involved close work with a geology team for several months ahead of time, face to face, in Houston; then the trip to the moon was made and one interacted with them live; and finally one flew home and coauthored papers with them. Here there is no face-to-face interaction and no real coauthoring. Instead, we have to serve as everyone’s hands and eyes, and later as their lab assistants. We’re working for—not with—hundreds of geologists instead of with four or five. So I haven’t published a single paper since landing here. My name has been listed as coauthor on about forty papers—I’m not even sure what the total count is—but I’ve never been one of the first three or four authors.
“If I can stay, that will change. For nine months, the three of us will have to stay very close to the Outpost. I still haven’t taken a month of vacation; I’ll probably take it then, and I’ll use the time to write. And then you will see how much I love the geology here, Jerry. I’ve got a dozen papers in mind and I’ve even outlined a few. I’m looking forward to the time to write. I hope that answers your question. Bye.”
Will sent the reply and returned to his work. Clearly, Jerry had more questions in mind; his next message arrived forty minutes later, just three minutes more than the round trip transmission time. “Thanks, Will. I hadn’t realized how well the alternation of inside and outside duties worked to maintain psychological and physical health. I suspect the setting helps a lot, too. I always loved the view from Shackleton; building the station on the ridgeline was necessary to maximize sunlight, but it also gave us constantly changing shadows and vistas. That really helped me a lot. You’ve got mesas in your back yard and an escarpment across the valley, not to mention clouds and even a bit of weather. Thank God the site selection people rejected boring plains.
“But anyway, another question has occurred to me. The six of you have had your ups and downs in the last eighteen months. What makes you think you, Ethel, and Shinji will manage to get along for an extra twenty-six months? It’s a big challenge. The rumors about romantic ties between you and Ethel make the whole issue even more complicated. I’m curious whether you’ve thought about that matter.”
Will frowned as he listened to the question. It would be complicated to answer because a lie, if revealed, might jeopardize everything. “Jerry, I think there are two questions to ask, not one,” he replied. “One is, how well will the three of us get along for the nine months before Columbus 2 arrives; the other is, how well will we get along after Columbus 2 brings eight more people here. The second issue is completely unpredictable because we’ll be part of the dynamic of eleven people. There will be a big adjustment when two essentially separate crews merge into one. That will be quite a challenge, but an unavoidable one. As for the next nine months, I don’t see why the three of us will have a relationship any different from the one we’ve already had for eighteen months. We all get along really well, and I don’t see any reason that should change.” He paused, then decided that was all he’d say, and hit send. Maybe the romantic issue was finessed sufficiently.
It seemed to be. Forty-three minutes later, Jerry called back. “Thanks, Will; I think what you say helps a lot. I appreciate that you took the time to answer my concerns. Bye.”
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Will tried to ignore the persistent knock on his bedroom door. It kept impinging on his dreams. Finally he awakened. “Who’s there?”
“Will, it’s Laura. I’ve got Dr. Lassen on the line and he wants to talk to you, Ethel, and me immediately.”
Lassen was the Director of Mars Mission Operations. Will bolted out of bed. “Okay; I’ll be there right away. Where are we meeting?”
“The Great Room. I’m inviting Shinji, too. They know about your wedding plans; Lassen was upset we didn’t tell them and that’s why he’s calling.”
“Oh, great. Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.” Will pulled on his clothes quickly, combed his hair, and wondered whether he’d get any sleep that night at all. But when they were awake, Lassen would be asleep, and he was the one who was mad.
Will came out into the Great Room. Laura and Shinji were already there; he was looking over her shoulder. “They’ve been listening to our private conversations,” said Laura.
“I thought the audio and video never went farther than the ITV,” said Will.
“Unless they call for it. They did; I just checked,” replied Laura. She shrugged. “We don’t have the ability to block it, and we know they can do it.”
“At least we wouldn’t have sounded too conspiratorial,” said Will.
“I’m not so sure,” said Laura. “Let me play his message.”
She pushed a button. Lassen’s face appeared on the screen and he looked stern. “Commander Stillwell, I hope you are still up because we need to speak immediately. I have been informed that Elliott and MacGregor plan to get married. This was not mentioned in their request to stay on Mars. I need an immediate explanation of this discrepancy from them and from you. Goodbye.”
“Well, let’s sit and explain,” said Laura. “There’s no reason to coordinate our responses because they can listen to the coordinating. I’ll go first.” The four of them sat facing the large screen, which contained the camera to photograph them. Laura checked the image to make sure it included them all, then began the recording. “Dr. Lassen, here we are; I just awakened everyone so we can talk with you. We haven’t stopped to plan our responses because I see Mission Control has been listening to our conversations of the last few days. Under such circumstances we have to be frank and spontaneous. I think we also have to be honest with you, and not try to hide our motives.
“We didn’t mention Will and Ethel’s decision to get married because it really has nothing to do with the issue of their staying on Mars. That was my decision and I accept responsibility for it. Yes, one can say that NASA needs to know whether they want to be married or not. But we were planning to tell you after the request to stay was resolved. You would have known. Would it really change your decision? Will, what do you say?”
Will looked at Laura, then at the screen. “Dr. Lassen, I love Ethel and I love Mars. I’ve explained how I love Mars to Jerry McCord. This is a really incredible world and I want to study it for at least two more years; maybe four. As I think you know, I have developed a fairly good technique for communicating with scientists on Earth; they get a good idea of what I am looking at and what I think it is. The moon and Earth are two end members on a geological spectrum with Mars in between, and there is a vast amount of work to do to understand that. So I want to stay here. And I love Ethel; over the last year and a half we have grown very fond for each other and very close. Ethel and I did not plan to fall in love; it just happened. I’m sure you know how that is; you’re married. NASA’s policy of no romance makes sense on ISS or even on the moon; people are together a few months, then they’re home. But this is a thirty-month expedition, and if anyone stays a second cycle they’re away from Earth fifty-six months. I’m afraid one can’t expect no romantic involvement for that length of time. It may be wise to send married couples on future expeditions.
“I’m not sure what else there is to say. Ethel?”
“I love Will. I figured that out last summer and said so when our team was meeting with the counselors. They heard it; I’m sure it’s on videotape. Will was surprised and so we talked about it and decided that since we’re both divorced and we both love our work, we couldn’t get married. The pressure on astronauts is too much; too many of them are divorced. The pressure is far worse when both spouses are astronauts. Needless to say, our relationship all this time has been Platonic, and it remains Platonic. But we would like to get married. I think at this point we’ll get married whether we stay here or not, and take a chance that we can make a marriage work in spite of mission schedules. But Mars provides an ideal opportunity to serve humanity and be married because we’d be working together here. The work here has been incredible; if you talk to my ground support team, they’ll tell you how hard I’ve worked and how much I love it. So the situation is really very simple: we are providing the space agency with an incredible opportunity to build the human presence on Mars far more than could have been imagined. And for Will and I, it’s a chance to do the work we love together.” She turned to Shinji.
“I’ve been explaining my motivations for staying extensively for the last two days,” said Shinji. “And I’ll be glad to continue if it is helpful. I am a biologist and a physician, with a Ph.D. and an M.D. I don’t think I can begin to explain how exciting it’s been to study Mars’s first known fossils. We’ve identified three species so far and I think we’re closing in on three more species. The equipment here is not designed for microfossils, but with time it’s adequate to do some very important work. An additional nine months will allow a lot of research, and I’d love to be part of the team using Columbus 2’s Mars Life Science Facility. As a horticulturist and physician, I bring a lot of valuable skills to the Outpost. I hope I can stay, and I’d be delighted to stay with Ethel and Will, since they’re good friends.”
He turned to Laura. She looked at the screen. “That’s the story, Dr. Lassen. Let us know what else we can say. Bye.” She pressed send, then rose. “Who wants coffee? If you want to lay down, I’ll wake you when his reply arrives.”
“Coffee,” agreed Will, and Ethel nodded as well.
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They were up half the night while Lassen—who was sitting in his office and getting many other tasks done—was listening to their comments, formulating another question, sending it, and getting work done. Finally about 4 a.m. he said “I appreciate your time in answering these questions frankly. I’m not trying to grill you, but obviously this is a big step and not one to take lightly. We’ll get back to you in a few days about this.”
So they finally went to bed, and slept late the next morning. After breakfast, Will walked Ethel to the greenhouse, where she planned to work all day. There they had privacy, lush plants, and a nice view of the Martian terrain. “What do you think of last night?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I think it’s unlikely we’ll get a green light now. Thank God we were honest; I think if we had lied to Lassen, the whole plan to stay would be dead.”
“You’re pessimistic, then?”
He nodded. “But I may be wrong. Typical of NASA, to ask us to spend this entire evening talking to psychiatrists.”
“Yes. That will be unpleasant. Half the time, they don’t understand the problems of communicating with a forty-minute time delay. They want spontaneity and can’t get it!” Ethel sighed. “I think I’ll videomail dad this afternoon and tell him. It’d be nice if you could join me.”
“I’d love to! I really don’t know your father very much.”
“Well, it’s hard to get to know anyone by videomail.”
“True. Did I tell you that we need his permission to get married? It’s a Bahá'í law.”
Ethel frowned. “Really? No matter how old the child is?”
“Correct. It’s a law to bind the generations together and create family unity. Unity, as you probably know, is the main teaching of the Faith.”
“Interesting. Dad will be flattered, actually. What other regulations are there?”
“Only one; in addition to anything else we do in the wedding ceremony, we have to say the Bahá'í marriage vow: ‘verily, we will all abide by the will of God.’ That’s the only requirement for a Bahá'í marriage.”
“That sounds pretty simple. I was thinking we’d want to keep the ceremony simple anyway, if we get married here at least. Now, what about your mother. Shall we call her, too?”
“We could plan on calling mom tonight, in between rounds of questions from Houston.”
She nodded. “I can do that.”
“So, you’re going to marry me even if we can’t stay?”
“Yes, I think I will, Will Elliott. You’re too good to get away.” She smiled.
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re too good to get away, too, Ethel MacGregor. If we can’t stay here, should we get married here anyway?”
She sighed. “I’d be in favor; I don’t want to wait until December when Columbus 1 gets home. I’d rather be living with you.”
“I feel the same. We’ve already staked our reputation on being chaste, so we can’t back out of that unless we get married!” He looked at the exteriors of the habitats. “If we stay, where will we live? The bedrooms are pretty small.”
“We could cut away a wall and convert two small bedrooms into one big one. There are some other options; I’ll worry about that and consult with Laura.”
“Alright. Well, I’d better get to work. Do you want help with anything?”
“If you want to come and kill a chicken for me, that would be nice! I always hate killing them. But besides that, I’ll mostly be planting a new square of wheat and harvesting vegetables. Shinji will come here for an hour this afternoon and we’ll mix soil—complete with worms—into another square. It’s pretty routine stuff.”
“I’ll stop by right after lunch to dispatch the chicken, how’s that.”
Ethel smiled. “Thank you, that would be very nice of you.”
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It was a rough evening with the psychiatrists, who wanted to talk to Will and Ethel separately and asked a battery of invasive, personal, and often seemingly irrelevant questions. The unpleasant evening was followed by a surprise the next morning; NASA headquarters gave Will and Ethel permission to speak of their marriage plans to the media. The decision made sense for the space agency; the public loves romance. Will and Ethel answered some questions by email and took a few video interviews arranged by the public information professionals. It proved very popular; the story stayed in the news and the public loved it.
Another week of waiting passed while NASA discussed and debated the situation. Finally the Administrator of NASA himself made an announcement—an email copy of which was sent to Mars an hour before the press conference—stating that the three of them could stay on Mars for two more years.
“This time, the press coverage went our way,” said Laura, as they all sat around the lunch table right after reading the announcement. “I think it tipped the balance.”
“The public’s attitude seems to be, if they want to stay, let them take the chance,” agreed Will. “So in a way, NASA’s off the hook if we get in trouble.”
“I think that factor made it easier for them to decide,” agreed Laura. “So, the six of us have three months left here together, and Columbus 2 arrives here in exactly one year.”
“And we’re taking one shuttle and one ITV back to the Earth, right?” asked David.
Sergei nodded. “That seems to be
the plan. We can fly two shuttles to orbit if we need to, to get the samples on
board the ITV. The second shuttle will have enough fuel to fly back to the
Outpost. We’ll leave the Ausonia here in orbit for Columbus 2 and take
the Cimmerium home. That way,
whenever Will, Ethel, and Shinji want to go home, the ITV to take them will be
ready.”
“Or it’ll be rotated home with Columbus 2 and one of their ITVs will
stay,” said Laura. “Once Columbus 2 arrives, Mars will have four shuttles,
which is a good thing. NASA will have to make one more for backup, however,
which will cost it two billion dollars at some point.”
“If that means an even more robust Mars transportation system, that’s
not bad,” replied Will.