4
Christmas
David Alaoui pulled himself up the ladder shaft quite quickly as he neared the axis of the Columbus. The last two floors had very low gravity and he was able to move up the shaft quite fast. He passed from the Ausonia into the docking cube, where he paused briefly to assess the Cimmerium’s ladder shaft. No one in their right mind would throw themselves down a five-story shaft on Earth or even on Mars, but artificial gravity worked very differently; one was actually weightless except for centrifugal force, and one experienced no centrifugal force until one had lateral movement that was arrested by a floor or wall. David and Will had an informal contest to see who could go farther down a ladder shaft without touching a wall. Once one came in contact with a wall, its rotation pushed one sideways and created centrifugal force that pushed one down the wall to the bottom of the shaft. Even though the shaft was straight, its circular motion converted it into a kind of slide, and one could control the speed of descent by using one’s hands and feet as brakes.
David had gotten fairly good at leaping down the shaft in the last two months since the flyby of 2015AS. He usually could go halfway down before the wall swung around and collided with him. From there down, sliding was easy and fun.
He stared at the shaft to get a sense of its width and reminded himself that the bottom was rotating round and round at about 400 meters per minute or almost seven meters per second, fifteen miles an hour. Ready, he launched himself down and sideways.
He had a bit too much sideways motion and in a second found himself bumping against the shaft’s leading wall. A perfect trajectory traced a curve in the rotating shaft, almost touching the leading wall, then eventually settling back against the trailing wall. He slid along the leading wall a short distance, then began to separate from it again.
Just as he was weightless again, he drifted by the fourth floor landing oriented so that he could see the porch plainly; and as fate would have it, Laura Stillwell chose that very moment to open Sergei Lansburg’s door and step onto the porch, stark naked, as she headed for her room.
David saw her quite plainly and was instantly embarrassed, but he also disappeared down the shaft too fast to apologize. Laura saw him, shocked; then David was out of sight and could not see her face. Since he was in the middle of the shaft by then, he also could not easily grab anything.
He bumped against the trailing side of the shaft, still dazed by the incident. He clumsily grabbed the wall with his hands, but because he had traveled farther than usual, he hit the wall harder. It slid him down the shaft and pitched him suddenly onto the great room’s floor, which he hit like a sack of potatoes.
“Are you alright?” asked Shinji, jumping up from the breakfast table.
“What happened?” asked Will, following closely behind.
“Oh, I was just incredibly clumsy, I guess,” replied David, standing up. His right ankle hurt.
“Let me take a look,” said Shinji, and he reached down to pull up David’s pant leg before he could protest.
“No, I’m okay,” David said. “But thanks, Shinji.”
Shinji felt David’s ankle briefly, noticed whether David was wincing or not, then was satisfied. David walked to the table, limping slightly.
“Here’s your coffee, Daoud,” said Will, using David’s Arabic name. “I already poured it for you.”
“Thanks.” He looked over Shinji’s shoulder at the Japanese text on his attaché. “The news?”
“Yes, Asahi Shinbun, a major daily newspaper. They’re still debating the presidential election in the United States.”
“Who wouldn’t; we’ve been debating it on board,” replied David. Laura was the only one who liked the new President, who had won with a razor-thin plurality; he was a Protestant Fundamentalist and had won a divisive election in which only 25% of the electorate had bothered to vote.
“At least he favors Mars exploration,” noted Will, the only person on Columbus who hadn’t expressed vociferous opinions.
David looked at the pancakes Will had made, and the frozen strawberries. He was still too upset to eat. “You know, I think I’m in a lot of trouble,” he said to Will, in a low voice.
“Why?”
A long pause. “The reason I fell is because as I sailed down the shaft, Laura came out to head for the bathroom, and she was, ah. . . naked.”
Will looked up. “Oh, that is embarrassing. But you may be more embarrassed than she. She doesn’t strike me as the modest type.”
“Nor are you the first one to see her naked,” added Shinji, though he did not elaborate.
“These were unusual circumstances.” They looked at him, puzzled. “She was coming out of Sergei’s room.”
“Oh.” Will was a bit startled; Shinji was not. “You’re right; that may embarrass her.”
“Possibly.” Shinji remained mysterious; he seemed to know something, but had no intention of telling.
There was a whoosh in the ladder shaft, and Ethel appeared. “Good morning,” said Will, smiling. He had come to like her more and more, after four months of travel; she was straight-talking, smart, had a pleasant sense of humor, and was pretty.
“Good morning,” she responded with a smile. “Good morning Shinji, David.”
“Morning.” They replied.
Ethel grabbed her cup and filled it with hot water; she was a tea drinker, and NASA had dutifully provided her with a thousand tea bags, roughly one for every day of their mission. Yesterday’s bag was still in the cup and she added a new bag to it; the two would be adequate to make her an afternoon cup as well. She came to the table and loaded her plate with pancakes.
“I need help today with changing the carbon dioxide filters,” said Ethel. “And we have to shut down the Cimmerium’s Sabatier reactor to fix a compressor.”
“I can help; I want to keep busy,” said David.
“It’s not my expertise,” replied Shinji. “But I’m busy anyway with the plant cabinets. The strawberries are about to start bearing again, so I have to reprogram their lighting, temperature, and moisture levels. The lettuce needs the usual shuffling of volume; I’m feeding the mature plants to the rabbits today. It’s also time to cut back the beans as well, to keep their production levels up.”
“It’s amazing how much time the plant cabinets take,” said Ethel. “We’re spending one person-day every day on them.”
“True; but we’re getting a quarter of our food from them, it’s fresh and not stored, and we don’t have anything else to do anyway,” said Shinji.
“Keeping us busy is half the reason,” agreed Will.
They went back to their breakfasts. A minute later there was a whooshing sound. Laura appeared from the ladder shaft, and she was furious.
“Don’t you ever spy on us again,” she said to David, before anyone could say anything. “Who do you think you are! I should assign you to every dirty task in the ITVs for the rest of the voyage out and the entire voyage back!”
“Laura, I was not spying! God forbid, I was just coming down the shaft and you came out! I was not trying to see anything!”
“Then why didn’t I hear you coming? You were hiding the sound!”
“No, I wasn’t! Will and I have a contest to see who can sail farther down the shaft before touching a wall. I can usually clear the entire fourth floor before touching the wall on the third! But in that case I did touch the wall; maybe you didn’t hear it, but I did!”
“We do have such a contest,” exclaimed Will.
Laura looked at Will with fury in her eyes. Then Shinji interrupted. “But as mission doctor, I am banning this content from now on. David, you almost sprained an ankle on your landing down here.”
“Definitely, no more sailing in the shafts!” exclaimed Laura. “It’s dangerous to the sailor and to others who might step into the shaft at the same time!” She looked at the others, embarrassment forming on her face. Even if David hadn’t given away what he had seen, it would be hard for him not to, now. Laura turned to the counter. She grabbed two plates, loaded them with pancakes and strawberries, filled two cups with coffee, grabbed forks and knives, and then retreated back up the shaft on the elevator platform.
“What was that all about?” asked Ethel, baffled.
“I sailed down the shaft while Laura came out to use the bathroom, naked.”
“Really? And she reacted like that?”
“She came out of Sergei’s room.”
“Ah. That explains a few things. Our ceilings are not as sound proof as people think.”
“Alright, now we all know that Laura and Sergei are having a relationship,” said Will. “What’s the protocol? Ignore it?”
“We had better let them decide,” replied Shinji.
“I’ll raise the matter; I can talk to Laura,” said Ethel. “This is quite a violation of taboo. I hope they’re being careful.”
“We have quite a supply of birth control pills on board, and everyone knows it,” said Shinji.
“This is a thirty-month trip,” noted Will. “The six of us are thrown together for much longer than four months or eight months, as is typical for jaunts at ISS or Shackleton. I hope we can talk seriously about how we can strengthen our friendships. We have to depend on each other for our lives, yet we barely know each other, we snipe at each other, we’re uneasy together, and we don’t share much common culture. This is a problem.”
“I agree,” said Ethel, and David and Shinji both nodded. “But I think we need to talk about it when all six of us are together.”
“Okay,” agreed David. “But I guess that won’t happen today.”
-------------------------
Ethel didn’t try to talk to Laura right away; she had to let things cool off. Laura and Sergei didn’t come to lunch or dinner that day, and the next morning they came at different times. Normally, breakfast was followed by a short staff meeting to talk about the chores; Laura managed those tasks by talking to individuals at their work stations instead, except David, to whom she sent emails.
Everyone did show up for supper the next night, though, because Will was cooking and he was much better than anyone else on board. Conversations were pleasant, but avoided all personal matters. When they were all finished, Ethel turned to Laura and whispered, “Say, I need some advice. I’m trying on some clothes over the web; can you advise me a bit?”
“Sure; now?”
“If you’re free.”
“Of course.” Ethel nodded and headed for her room, Laura right behind. Once they were there, it took only a moment to activate Ethel’s attaché and connect it to the large screen on the wall of her room. “I might as well start with my real problem; buying my mother something for her birthday,” said Ethel. “She really likes sky blue, and she needs some new dresses for church; she goes pretty regularly.”
“And you have her measurements?”
“Yes, she gave them all to me before I left, so that I could mail order things for her. Let me show you the two final choices.” Ethel pushed some buttons to call up the website of a popular clothier. The screen split in half and two images of a 65-year old woman appeared modeling two dresses. The image walked down an aisle, paused, turned to the right, then to the left, turned around, turned to each side again, then walked back.
“Again,” said Laura to the attaché, appraising the images carefully. “I think the right-hand one looked better on her. Is the hair the right shade?”
“Yes, and my mom wears it that way, too. I spent a lot of time getting the image customized properly. She’s concerned about hem lines.”
“Then definitely the right hand dress.”
“That’s what I thought, too. Oh, let me show you a dress that I just found; I like it very much.” Ethel pushed a few buttons to call up a particular dress design and called up her own profile. The computer paused for the slightest second, then Ethel appeared walking down the aisle, modeling a very stylish Paris creation in mauve. She smiled to watch a simulated image of herself modeling the dress.
“The cut flatters you,” agreed Laura. “Yes, this is a nice one. How much?”
“A mere $3,000.”
Laura laughed. “It would be nice to buy something like that, some time! I suppose after we get back we’ll have the money to buy such outfits, and we’ll be in so much public limelight we’ll have to have an impressive wardrobe.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too. In about two years, we’ll have to start shopping and buying. Say, I saw something I thought would look good on you.”
“Really? Show me.” Laura sounded eager.
Ethel nodded and pulled up the outfit number, then Laura opened a window, typed in her password, and called up her profile. A second later Commander Laura Stillwell was walking down the aisle, modeling a white and green evening gown.
“You’ve got my colors down,” said Laura approvingly. “It’s a bit low cut for my taste, though.”
“I’m always surprised by how conservative your taste is.”
“I’m from a conservative southern family, after all.”
“That sometimes surprises me, too. Say, what do you think of this.” Ethel punched some buttons and called up another evening gown, which she projected onto her own image.
“Wow! Gorgeous; conservative and formal, but a real knockout.”
“I thought so, too. I wish I could wear this for Will; I think he’d like it.”
“Yes, he would. But I doubt he’d be into sales fantasies like this.”
“No; not many are. I’m glad you don’t mind.”
“Not at all; it’s fun.” Laura paused. “So, you like Will?”
Ethel shrugged. “Sure; he’s sweet. And he likes me; I can tell. But I don’t know whether I want it to go anywhere on a mission like this.”
“I know what you mean,” said Laura. She frowned; she could see where Ethel was going. “Where would you like it to go?”
“It’s hard to say. But on a small vessel like this, if we did start to fall in love, I suppose everyone would know, and it’d be hard for us to do anything about it. For better or for worse, I think the six of us are like a big family of brothers and sisters for the next two and a half years.”
“We aren’t much of a family.”
“Some of us were talking the other day, and decided we probably need to work on that. We have to count on each other.”
“That’s true. Did you come to any conclusions?”
“Perhaps. First, that if two people become a couple, the rest of us need to know whether to ignore it or acknowledge it. Otherwise we’ll constantly be stepping on toes.”
“I see. I’ll mention that to Sergei; I suppose it’s easiest not to pretend. Anything else?”
“You do realize that David wasn’t spying on you?”
Laura looked uncomfortable. “He’ll get over that. What else?”
“Let’s do something to bring us together more.”
“Okay. Christmas is coming up in a week; we could plan a program for that. We don’t have to give presents, but we could do some decorating and have a big meal.”
“Hum. That might be good.”
“Leave it to me, I’ll take care of it,” promised Laura.
They looked at a few more dresses, then Laura headed to her room. She knocked on Sergei’s door. “Are you there?”
“Sure; come in.”
Laura walked in. Sergei was laying in bed watching television. “Say, what do you think of a Christmas party?”
He thought a moment, then shrugged. “I guess. It’s not something in my culture, you know. I’m not even sure I’m Christian; I don’t go to church. My father was Muslim and my mother Jewish.”
“Really? I didn’t know that. I didn’t know there were Muslims in Russia.”
“Quite a few; some are only a few hundred kilometers from Moscow, and of course there are a lot who live in Moscow now. But my family comes from Kazakhstan originally. Well, not originally; the Landsbergs were Germans who settled in Russia four hundred years ago, then ended up in Kazakhstan two hundred years ago and intermarried with the natives after the Communist Revolution. My father’s first name was Ali.”
“Like Muhammad Ali; I guess that means he was Muslim.”
“More or less; he was a Communist.”
“Ah. Anyway, will you participate in a Christmas celebration?”
“Sure. I already said so.”
“Good. I better check with Shinji.” She headed down one level to Ethel’s and Shinji’s rooms. When Shinji didn’t respond, she went down one more floor and found him at his work station on the second floor. “Shinji, I was thinking we’d plan a Christmas party, to bring all of us together a bit more. How does that sound to you?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
It was becoming a common response, Laura noted. “I don’t know whether you’re Christian or not—”
“I’m not, but that doesn’t matter. Christmas is popular in Japan, you know.”
“Well, we can make it popular here, too.”
“Good. Okay.”
She turned away and returned to her room, thinking about ways they could celebrate together. The next morning after breakfast—she didn’t want to mention it there—she went to look for Will, who was at his work station. He was taping a video interview with a journalist, playing back the questions one by one and answering each on his attaché. She waited patiently and watched; Will had a warm personality and was very articulate, so he was good on television. It made her jealous, as she was never quite what the reporters wanted, and they never asked her the questions she wanted.
“I hope you have other things to do today than just interviews,” she said, after he had recorded two responses.
“Of course; the long range sensors are trained on Mars and will take some of my time today. Our telescopic camera is already the best way to track dust storms.”
“How is the Marineris storm?”
“Still abating; by the time we get there it should be totally ended, especially since the dust storm season ended months ago.”
“Tell that to the Marineris region. Say, I was talking to Ethel last night and we decided it’d be a good idea to plan a Christmas party. It’ll help bring everyone together, break the ice a bit more, and build more community here. I thought you can help a lot; not only by cooking, but by spreading the Christmas traditions. Shinji and Sergei don’t celebrate Christmas much.”
“I’m sorry, Commander, but neither have I. You see, my parents weren’t Christians; they are Bahá'ís.”
“Bahá'ís! I’m beginning to think I’m the only Christian on board this mission! But Bahá'ís believe in all the religions, right? Don’t Bahá'ís celebrate Christmas?”
Will shook his head. “No, not really. We celebrated with my dad’s parents a few times, but my mom’s parents were Bahá'ís as well. My ex-wife was Catholic and I celebrated Christmas with her folks a few times, but celebrating just meant exchanging presents and eating turkey together. I can cook us a nice meal, but don’t ask me to lead any hymn singing!”
“I see.” She shook her head. “And what are you? Are you Bahá'í, too?”
“I’m on the books as a Bahá'í, yes, but I haven’t had any time to do any Bahá'í things for about fifteen years. Who has time for religion?”
“Well, I did. I went to church every Sunday when I was at home. The First Baptist Church of Clear Lake.”
“Like I said, I can cook, if you want.”
“Good. Can you ask David?”
Will suddenly saw a problem for Laura’s plan. “Ah. . . I think you should ask him. I’m not at liberty to say why.”
“Oh? Strange. I’d rather not have to ask him.”
“Well, I would prefer it if you did. He’s downstairs right now.”
“Alright.” Laura turned and headed for the ladder shaft. She jumped down one level—easy to do in Martian gravity—then walked over to his work station. David was busy with life support maintenance work. He looked up as she approached.
“I take it systems are nominal?” she asked.
David nodded. “As much as can be expected, after our little sewage leak. Until the tank and the contaminated wall and its electrical systems are replaced, we’ll be jury-rigging the Ausonia’s life support systems periodically.”
“Ground control promised me yesterday that they plan to launch the ITVs Syrtis and Solis in early next year and dock them to the International Space Station, so they can be broken in for a year before flying. Columbus 2 will get used equipment; but equipment with all the bugs worked out!”
“Good!”
“Say, I want to invite you to a Christmas celebration,” she said, changing topics. “I thought a Christmas celebration would be a nice way to break the ice and get to know each other better. We can have a dinner, decorate the grand room, maybe sing a bit; could you contribute something from France?”
David looked at Laura, surprised. “Commander, what religion do you think I am?”
“I suppose Catholic; you’re French, after all.”
“Are you aware of the fact that twenty percent of the population of France is Muslim?”
“What? I had no idea French Catholics were becoming Muslims!”
“Commander, they aren’t converting. You don’t understand. I may be a French citizen, but my family is from Morocco originally. My wife and kids live in Fez.”
“Oh really? I had no idea.”
“What sort of name did you think Daoud Alaoui was?”
She shrugged. “French.”
He laughed, which angered her. “No I’m afraid not. ‘Daoud’ is Arabic for ‘David.’ And ‘Alaoui’ is a very common last name in my country; it’s Arabic as well. Of course, my family isn’t Arab; we’re Berber.”
“What’s a ‘bear-bear’?”
“The Berber were the inhabitants of the land before the Arabs arrived. Most Moroccans are at least partially Berber. But getting back to the Christmas party idea; I really don’t feel very comfortable with it. And my family definitely won’t like it. For that matter, since the world will know about anything we do here, I’m not sure the French will be particularly happy about it, either. Some will; some won’t.”
“Maybe we should do New Year’s instead, then. That’s neutral.”
“True. Maybe, Commander, we should ask everyone what they think, instead of deciding for them.”
“Perhaps you have a point. This is fairly personal, I suppose.” Laura thought about the issue a moment more, then pulled out her communicator. She punched in the number for the Columbus’s intercom system. “Attention, all crew. We’re going to have a quick meeting in ten minutes in the Cimmerium’s great room to settle this Christmas issue. See you there.”
She closed the communicator. David looked at her. “I apologize if I was a bit short with you. Muslims are often very sensitive about Christians and their attitudes.”
“I understand. And. . . I apologize if I unfairly accused you, the other day.”
“Thank you.”
Laura turned and headed for the ladder shaft. David saved his work, then followed her. Will heard him coming up the shaft and came over to join him.
“What did you say to her?”
“That I was Muslim and that maybe we should all talk to decide what we would do together.”
“Good!”
“And she apologized to me.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I apologized for being short with her. I wasn’t short with her, but I thought I’d apologize anyway. She reciprocated.”
“Good. So, she can apologize. I’m glad to hear it.”
They paused in the docking cube to look at each other, then the ladder shaft stretching toward the bottom of the Cimmerium. Then Will launched himself down, managing to get as far as the third floor before touching a wall. David followed and managed to go slightly farther. “I beat you,” he said quietly to Will when they both reached the great room at the bottom.
The two of them had come the farthest, and thus were the last to arrive. Laura, Ethel, Sergei, and Shinji were seated at the table, so they joined the others.
“Okay,” began Laura. “I had proposed a Christmas event, but it turns out Ethel and I are the only two Christians on board. The idea is to do something to bring all of us together a bit more and to have fun together. I thought—”
“I have a suggestion,” said Ethel, interrupting. “It’s very simple. I’m scheduled to cook supper on Saturday night, and I’m not particularly good. Will’s scheduled to clean up, and I don’t mind doing that. If he and I can switch chores, we could have a nice dinner, and maybe watch a movie together afterward.”
Sergei’s eyes lit up; he liked the idea, as he was a movie buff. The others looked interested as well.
“Oh,” said Laura. “I was going to suggest something for New Years instead of Christmas.”
“How’s this,” suggested Will. “Something for Christmas is probably good for the media, but it doesn’t have to include all of us, so why don’t the few of us willing to be involved in Christmas do that for the public? Apollo 8 did a Bible reading while orbiting the moon. We aren’t near anything, but maybe we could tape some sort of short Christmas program. I could help pull that together, too. And on top of that, we could do something together for New Years; that would be fun. And, I wouldn’t mind switching with Ethel and preparing a meal Saturday.”
“All three?” asked David.
“Why not. We could do something for an Islamic holiday too, if others wanted to help. I’d be willing.”
“So would I; my father was a nominal Muslim, and his parents were fervent Muslims,” added Sergei.
“Ramadan starts in late April,” said David. “There are two eids or festivals accompanying it.”
“Perfect,” said Will. “We’ll even be on Mars, by then.”
Laura looked at her crew, a bit bewildered. “My, that was the fastest staff meeting we’ve held,” she said. “Okay, lets plan a small Christmas thing, a Saturday dinner, and a New Year’s celebration. Fine with me. Now, let’s get back to work.”