20
Wedding
Will, in the lead
ranger, kept his eyes focused on the northern horizon. He drove down the dirt
track as fast as he reasonably could—almost fifty kilometers per hour or thirty
miles per hour—occasionally slowing when the ranger’s on-board computer began
to beep because it detected a rough spot or curve in the road ahead.
They were approaching sunset and hoped they could get back to the
Outpost before dark. The two rangers and portahabs had explored the southern
margin of Aurorae Chaos for the entire last half of May and the first few days
of June, penetrating deeply up channels in the chaos, the three crew getting
out to explore partial caves and walk through a few natural bridges as they
sought to understand why millions of square kilometers of the Martian surface
had collapsed into heaps of water-weeping sediment. In some ways it was the
greatest expedition they had undertaken; the geology, at least, was the most
important, and would have been impossible for non-human exploration to
accomplish. They were returning with a tonne of samples.
Layercake Mesa, with smaller Boat Rock to its west, hove into view. A
few minutes later Face Rock could be made out as well. Will, Sergei, and David
had been alternating behind the wheels of rangers 1 and 2 since dawn and had
made the entire return trip in one day, thanks to the good track their
bulldozer blades had cleared on the way up.
“Ah, there it is,” said David, pointing.
“Where? I don’t see.”
“The white top of the habitat, just to the right of Face Rock; see it?”
Will shook his head, then a moment later nodded. “You’re still Eagle
Eye.”
“I sure am, Moonman. There it is; home, sweet home.”
“Especially for me.”
David nodded and patted his friend on the back, who looked forward to a
wedding in a few days and an additional two-year stay. The white top of habitat
2 could be seen as well, now; both inflatables had been capped by white cloth
from the landing parachutes anchored by sandbags. The parachute material also
covered sandbags, dirt, and above all, some twenty-five tonnes of ice that had
been sprayed over each habitat night by night to insulate it from cold and
radiation and give it a concrete-hard outer shell some thirty centimeters
thick.
As the sun was setting, they backed portahab number one up to the
airlock and docked to it. Sergei was doing the same with portahab number two at
another airlock. Shinji was outside to secure a hard dock. They pressurized the
tunnels, opened the door, and were greeted by Laura and Ethel.
“Welcome home!” they said almost simultaneously. Will stepped out and
hugged Laura, then kissed Ethel. After three weeks, it was good to see her
again. Just then Shinji came in through the airlock and he hugged Shinji, who
had gotten used to the very un-Japanese custom.
“Our last big trip was quite a success!” said Laura. “We’re celebrating
with chicken tonight, and it’s just about ready! So let’s head for the Great
Room!” She led everyone inside Habitat 1.
Ethel walked in with Will. “Thank goodness you’re home.”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, in spite of nightly videophone calls. I’ve got
something to show you, though.”
“Oh?”
She nodded and led him across the Great Room as they were entering it,
toward the narrow staircase that led up to the attic and down to the basement.
As they approached, the light came on automatically. She started ascending, so
he followed.
At the top of the narrow stairs he was surprised to see a wall.
Formerly, the attic level of the habitat had been a large open space that
extended to the point where the curved dome descended to touch the ceiling of
the ground floor. Only the central part of the top level had a ceiling high
enough for standing; the rest diminished to a crawl space. The floor one walked
on had been a plastic membrane stretched tight by air pressure, but otherwise
quite spongy. But now the entire surface was covered with hard polyethylene
sheets, and walls of similar material closed off a room.
Ethel walked to a door and pointed. “Open it,” she suggested. Will
turned the knob and opened the door. They stepped into a room about four meters
by five, with two doors in the left-hand wall.
“How did you do this?” asked Will, impressed.
“Laura helped; it took much of the time while you were away, especially
since we did it around our other responsibilities. The walls are plastic panels
fastened to metal verticals using metal screws. We made the beams, metal
crossties, and screws with the carbonyl unit, and fabricated the plastic panels
with the plastic fabrication unit. We had to reinforce the floor, which means
we had to reinforce the lower floor as well; that took a lot of time. The
wiring was tricky, but we had enough wire to spare.”
“And we have a walk-in closet?” Will walked into it and looked with
admiration.
“Yes, and a bathroom; that’s more interesting!”
Will walked into the other room and was immediately impressed by a
sink, toilet, and compact shower stall. “This came from the Pavonis?”
“Correct; we might as well use it, instead of it sitting. The water
isn’t hitched up yet; we’ll do that tomorrow. You and I will have our own
little suite up here.”
“Very nice! I’m surprised Mission Control agreed.”
“Laura twisted arms, I think. There’s room up here for at least one
more suite for a married couple, so our privacy may not last forever. We do
have to watch out if there’s ever a fire in the habitat; the plastic is
flammable and emits toxic gasses. We’d have to get out immediately. Tomorrow
we’ll look at the wallpaper selection that’s left and see what we want to use.”
“The walls need something. But this is impressive, Ethel. Very
impressive. It’s a shame we don’t have a window, but we can live without that.”
“It’s a small loss.” She smiled. “I’m glad you’re pleased.”
“Oh, very.” He kissed her. Then she kissed him back; a long, arousing
kiss.
“Five more days,” she said, with a smile.
They descended the stairs again and sat at the table. David and Sergei
went up to see the room while the others served themselves. Then David and
Sergei returned and everyone pronounced the new housing to be a great success.
A wine bottle came out—one of Sergei’s last—to highlight the specialness of the
event.
“Oh,
there’s one bit of news,” exclaimed Laura, as they finished their meal of
generous pasta and scanty fresh chicken. “As some of you know, two weeks ago
Theresa Cook had to withdraw from Columbus 2; her mother has advanced cancer
and she didn’t feel she could go to Mars under those circumstances. Earlier
today they announced her replacement; Dr. Madhu Gupta-Anderson, who happens to
be the wife of Dr. Roger Anderson.”
“You mean, NASA’s sending a husband and wife to Mars?” asked Will. Then
he began to laugh, followed by the others.
Laura nodded. “They seem to be getting the message. She’s not even
Astronaut Corps, though they’ve agreed to add her to the Corps. Her Ph.D. is in
food technology. One reason she’s coming, I think, is because the Outpost will
have eleven people and at that level of staffing you can’t easily rotate food
preparation duties. It makes more sense to have a professional handing food
preparation, cooking, and the greenhouses.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility,” said Ethel.
“I’m sure others will have to help,” replied Laura. “Madhu says she
wants our input about what plants to add to the inventory. NASA just agreed to
add a second greenhouse; Ethel’s room construction actually was important
because it demonstrated that we could make more construction materials than had
been thought, so they plan to remove some items from the cargo at Gateway to
make room for the extra greenhouse. I mentioned oranges to her and she said
they could indeed fly up a half dozen tiny seedlings.”
“Garlic,” replied Sergei. “And onions. I can’t believe we didn’t have
onions on this trip.”
“Garlic’s smelly and onions are a root crop; but I think the air
filters can handle the former, and the greenhouse now has enough soil for the
latter.”
“Jalepeños and other hot peppers,” suggested Will. “I miss hot food.”
“I agree,” said Shinji. “If you can fly up oranges, they should fly up
lemons as well.”
“Chicory,” suggested Ethel. “It makes a nice coffee substitute.”
“What about more animals?” asked Will. “Rabbit and chicken is a bit
monotonous after all this time.”
“They’re
flying up more steaks, since we now have plenty of vegetables. They want to try
bringing tilapia here, but it’s uncertain whether that’s possible. We now have
plenty of water for fish. Madhu plans to try rice as well.”
“Rice on a desert planet!” exclaimed Shinji, smiling.
“What about bees?” asked Will. “I hear they’ve been tried at
Shackleton.”
Laura nodded. “There’s a new breed that can handle the lack of
ultraviolet inside the greenhouse. They want to give it a try. They’re bringing
a lot of light-emitting ‘icicle diodes’ that produce light tuned for
photosynthesis, too, so that Madhu can use a higher density of plants and still
get good results. The goal is to make Mars self-sufficient in food for eight
people.”
“That would be great; they’d just have to fly up meat,” said Will.
“How are the wedding plans?” Sergei asked Ethel.
“There’s not much we can do here; the busy people are my sister and
Will’s mother!” replied Ethel. “They’re planning family events in Connecticut
and Scotland that will be tied in by video. NASA has limited the total mass of
wedding presents to 50 kilograms, but coordinating that between two continents
is proving difficult, so they may have to fly up a bit more.”
“At what? About $20,000 per kilo?” asked Shinji.
Laura nodded. “That’s about right. NASA is spending a million bucks
flying the wedding presents here, which is pretty generous. Mine will arrive
then, too; it’s already in Houston.”
“You all don’t have to give us presents,” said Ethel.
“Of course we’re giving you presents!” replied Sergei. “Unfortunately,
when we’re here the presents will be on earth, and when we’re on Earth the
presents will be here; but it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“I’m just wondering whether we’ll be sending baby shower presents, some
day,” teased Laura.
“Oh, no!” replied Ethel. “This is no place for children. And it’s not
clear that a child born here could ever fly home before adolescence because of
the dangers; and after adolescence, it’s not clear the child would be able to
cope with terrestrial gravity!”
“I’m not so sure,” replied Laura. “A two year old could be flown home
in a radiation-shielded room. And this place is already pretty big for a five
or six year old to run around; in five or six years it’ll be even bigger. An
orchard greenhouse with a swing set would be quite nice.”
“Perhaps, but what you’re suggesting is not in our plans,” replied
Will, a bit irritated by the discussion.
“Then someone else will have the first child on Mars,” replied David,
with a shrug.
-------------------------------
The next five days
passed quickly. There was no time to rest; the samples from the field trip had
to be unloaded and placed in the basement and preliminary analysis had to be
done on samples that might or might not be shipped back to Earth. It was not
until Sunsol—which was Saturday on Earth—when they finally rested, and when the
wedding was scheduled.
They were busy all day. While Shinji and Sergei cooked the wedding
banquet, Laura helped Ethel with her hair and nails and David helped Will with
the program. The actual wedding ceremony was scheduled for 9 p.m. Sunsol
evening, which corresponded to 9 a.m. Saturday morning in Connecticut and 4
p.m. Saturday afternoon in Scotland.
For the six of them, festivities began with the banquet at 6:30 p.m.
They ate both chicken and rabbit—one of each was enough to give them a half
decent amount of meat—with home-made bread and couscous, a generous supply of
vegetables in a rabbit gravy, wine for those who would drink it, and lots of
coffee and tea for the others. When they finished eating, Laura pulled out her
keyboard and David his guitar and they all sang songs together.
Then everyone headed to their rooms to dress for the ceremony. They
gathered in the great room again at 9 p.m., Will wearing his only suit, Ethel
her nicest dress, with a wedding veil and train of parachute material added to
the latter. They actually looked pretty good, especially on video; Laura had
helped in the cutting and sewing. The ceremony itself was being captured by
NASA’s public relations office, which would release a two-minute synopsis to
the public.
After the couple entered to the tune of the classic wedding march,
Laura, as commander, formally rang the Outpost’s bell six times, then welcomed
everyone to the first wedding on Mars. Then the couple, Sergei, and Shinji all
read short scriptural passages about love and marriage, highlighting the nature
and eternality of both. David played a piece on his guitar while everyone
considered the readings. Then Laura invited them Will and Ethel to stand before
her. “It is my duty and great pleasure, as Commander of this Outpost, to marry
the two of you,” she began. “For the last fifteen months, six human beings have
made Mars their home. The six of us have had our ups and downs together, but we
have steadily grown closer together and the ties of friendship have grown
stronger and deeper. Will and Ethel have been a major reason we have been able
to build the strong ties we have to each other; they have worked tirelessly to
resolve tensions, build trust, and help us understand each other. The joy all
of us feel together is one fruit of this marriage. We are delighted that our
two friends have grown so close to each other that they have decided to make an
eternal commitment to each other, and to creating love together. It gives us great
confidence that Columbus 2 will be a resounding success, because our friends
will build on the foundation of unity already laid and help an even larger team
work together here in solidarity. And on that foundation of love, unity, and
solidarity, human society on the Red Planet will be founded. Perhaps one
eventual result will be a planet that will never be touched by war, poverty, or
prejudice.
“From this union, then, great results may result. Will and Ethel, are
you ready to exchange your vows?”
“We are,” they replied.
“Good. Will, do you take Ethel for your beloved wife, to have and to
hold, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, through all
circumstances life brings your way, for all time?”
Will smiled. “I do.”
“And Ethel, do you take Will for your beloved husband, to have and to
hold, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, through all
circumstances life brings your way, for all time?”
“I do.”
“Then on the authority vested in me as supreme commander of the Mars
expedition, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now exchange the Bahá'í
wedding vows you have chosen to add to this civil ceremony.”
Will and Ethel turned to each other and looked straight at each other.
“We will all, verily, abide by the will of God,” he said.
“We will all, verily, abide by the will of God,” she repeated.
David stepped forward with the rings. Will took Ethel’s and put it on
her finger; she took his and put it on his finger. Then they kissed and
everyone cheered.
There was one more minor detail: the marriage license. The legality of
a wedding on Mars was based on the old custom that ship captains could marry
persons at sea, but that did not provide Will and Ethel will a marriage license
or certificate. So Laura had asked a friend on Earth, a graphic artist, to
design a license and a certificate, which was emailed to them and printed out
on some of the last paper they had. The bride and groom, the Commander, and
David Alaoui, as a witness, signed the documents.
The ceremony was now over. The six of them turned to the wedding cake;
they had not eaten dessert yet. They sat and Sergei brought out the cake, made
from Martian wheat flour, Martian strawberries, Martian eggs, and Martian soy
products, with frosting made from terrestrial sugar and other ingredients.
Ethel and Will cut it up and dished out big pieces to their friends and they
all had a grand time eating and chatting together. About the time they
finished, video began to arrive from Earth. In Scotland and Connecticut there
were video cameras that captured the audience’s reaction to the ceremony, and
they watched both audiences at once as the ceremony was played back to them.
With the end of the vows, long lines formed to tape greetings and
congratulations. Will and Ethel alternated listening to messages from each
continent and taping their thanks and greetings as well, while a breakfast came
out in Connecticut and an early supper in Scotland for the guests. People came
back to the camera and screen to see the response to their message and to respond
yet again, so the exchange of messages went on and on for an hour and a half.
Finally, wedding presents at each place were opened live on camera and Will and
Ethel had to look on the screen at the item that they had received—which they
would not physically see for ten months—and briefly thank the giver. Their four
colleagues enjoyed the parade of comments and gifts as well, sometimes adding
their own comments or exchanging their own private messages with guests.
Finally, 24:39 a.m. closed in, a time that never existed on terrestrial
clocks because of the Earth’s shorter day, the time that was considered
“midnight” on Mars. The rest of the crew had left the Great Room a half hour
earlier when the clock had struck 12. Will and Ethel thanked everyone and closed
the video lines, ending the wedding and starting the rest of their lives
together.