4

Emergency

The month of January ended with a grand celebration of the equinox—Mars’s own holiday—complete with a contest for the most elaborate costume, a parade of the contestants, great dinners, a concert, and—new to Mars—holiday sales in both Silvio’s and Deseret. The crew of the Ceres mission had the sol off and special “shore leave” to enjoy the parties in the outpost. Then two sols later the crew boarded two shuttles for a forty-five minute ballistic hop to the South Pole.

The Chinese South Pole station had been made available to them for two months. The departing “winter” crew of four Chinese, two Americans, a European, and a Japanese showed them around and oriented them to the equipment, then boarded the shuttles to fly to Aurorae. In early March, as the dust storm season was about to start, the shuttles would return with the “summer” crew and fly the Ceres mission back to the Outpost for a brief rest before they tackled their next assignment at Embarcadero Station, Mars’s interplanetary arrival and departure facility.

South Pole Station was too cramped for all twenty-six of them—it was designed for sixteen—so their first task was to set up a permanent expansion to the facility, pressurize it, and cover it with two meters of snow. Robotic trucks had just delivered the parts for three windowless nickel-steel Quonset huts, each ten meters long and six wide, which they welded together and pressurized while using temporary inflatable shelters and pressurized vehicles as overflow housing. While their construction effort continued during the entire two-month stay, in four weeks they had a fairly comfortable space, and one that allowed a permanent expansion of the station to two dozen researchers.

While setting up the expansion, the team accomplished a major drilling project as well. Ten kilometers from the station was a particularly thick point in the accumulation of dry ice, ice, snow, and dust in the center of an ancient crater, and they began a shaft to penetrate to the early Noachian basement sediments. As the sun rose higher in the sky sol by sol, they made longer and longer trips across the layer terrain, extending the trails cleared by previous explorers, searching for meteorites and exploring the exposed layers of deposit.

One sol is mid February, Helmut had the responsibility of running the driller. Driving back to the station with two sols of sediment cores—some fifty meters—he stopped the ranger on two occasions to admire the beauty of the polar scenery, which was an ever-changing spectacle of rising mists and shifting fogs in the golden horizontal light. The station had been built on an ancient crater rim that stuck up through the billions of years of deposits and had quite a vista around it. He went inside reluctantly. He had responsibilities; he and Clara were responsible for supper that night. Besides, he had now become aware of a dull ache in his lower abdomen.

“How was the trip?” asked Charles, who was suiting up to go outside just as Helmut was coming in.

“Oh, fine. We got all the cores and set up the driller to drill fifty meters deeper.”

“The bit hasn’t become dull, yet?”

“No, the ice content is still pretty high; it’s cutting through the deposits like a knife through butter. I think we can speed it up, to 37.5 meters per sol, and change out the oxygen and methane tanks every 36 hours instead of every 48.”

Charles considered. “Yes, let’s do that. We’ve only got two weeks more. We might as well drill farther down, even if we’re drilling in basement. For all we know, the basement rock might be interesting as well.”

“Okay, I’ll go to the Control Room and turn up the drill rate before turning to the kitchen.”

“Anything to avoid the kitchen!”

Helmut smiled, a bit embarrassed; he was known to be a reluctant kitchen worker. “I still think with 24 adults, the mission should have a full time cook. Are you on your way to Akansha Cirque?”

Charles nodded. “We’re going to shoot a few outcrops with the laser, to compare the spectra with samples from the base of the cliff. There’s a particular unit—probably mid Noachian—that appears to have evaporites in it, and we’re trying to pin down the composition as well as find a sample from the base.”

“Mio-Noachian Estival 15 is the really big one in the northern deposits; there’s evidence of lakes, so I’m not surprised we’re finding evidence here as well. We’re really lucky the impact uplifted such early deposits.”

“I’ll show you what we find. Say, you look a little pale.”

“Really?” Helmut considered the remark. “I do have a stomach ache. Maybe that’s it.”

“Maybe. Well, take some rest if you need it. Ciao.”

“Ciao.” Helmut headed into the station via the control room, where he worked on the driller a few minutes adjusting the power output and drilling rate. Then he headed for the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” asked Clara when he entered. The tone was more curious than accusatory; she kissed him quickly right after saying.

“Oh, I dawdled in the Control Room; Charles authorized some adjustments to the drill rate. What do you want me to do?”

“Check the breadmaker; it’s got ten loaves rising that should be ready for the oven soon. Then batter and bread the tilapa.”

“I wish they’d send us tilapa that were already breaded!”

“On the Giovanni Piazzi we’ll be raising tilapa and cleaning them, so don’t complain. I‘ve got the soup going and the potatoes are almost boiled and ready for mashing. After you finish the tilapa I’ll need your help with the green beans. I think there’s enough ice cream left from the batch Thierry made last week, so we don’t have to worry about the dessert.”

“Just a week’s worth of bread,” replied Helmut. He turned to the bread maker, a highly automated unit that had sensors and electronic graphs displaying the bread’s progress. He didn’t even have to open a door to look; there was a camera. So he pulled out the ingredients to make the batter. Yet the pain in his abdomen did not fade into background noise of sensations; it remained dull and constant, and even seemed to throb a little.

At suppertime they put everything out and enjoyed the usual compliments as people filled their plates. The crowded refectory filled with laughter and stories about the sol’s work. Martha Vickers brought Charlie from the daycare area and the three Langlais sat together at the end of one table, enjoying a bit of semiprivacy. The Ceres crew had clicked well; there were a few personal rivalries, but by and large the crew members liked each other and worked together easily. Charles Vickers was a constant presence in the room, almost unconsciously monitoring relations, encouraging people and taking the temperature of the various personal interactions. Martha, every the maternal psychiatrist, sat with him, seemingly interacting with Caitlin but in fact remaining as alert to personalities and behaviors as he.

“If you have any questions about your work assignments for tomorrow, ask me soon; I’m going to bed early tonight,” said Charles as everyone began to pile their dishes into the dishwasher. Then some people drifted out of the refectory, heading for their personal quarters, while others began to watch a movie on the big screen in the front of the room. Helmut and Clara headed back to their room because it was Charlie’s bedtime.

“Boy, this ache is getting worse,” said Helmut after Charlie went to sleep. He rubbed his abdomen on the front right side.

“What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know; a sort of stomach ache. But it’s beginning to bother me.”

“Maybe you should go see Juliette.”

“No, it’s not that bad.”

“Suit yourself.” Clara headed out of their room for the bathroom.

They watched a bit of t.v., then went to bed. Helmut awoke before dawn because the pain had gotten much worse. He lay in bed shifting positions to try to find comfort. Finally Clara said “Does it hurt that much? Because you’re making it impossible for me to sleep.”

“It’s hurting enough to wake me up from a sound sleep.”

“Then call Juliette. I’m sure she can see you right after breakfast.”

“I guess.” He dreaded the thought because he suspected it was his appendix. Helmut got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to wash and get ready for the sol. By then it was 6:30 a.m. He headed to the refectory, but found he had no appetite. He came back to their room and got Charlie ready for the sol, then called Juliette. She could see him in ten minutes.

“Probably appendicitis,” she said after a quick examination. “Let’s get a scan of that area.”

“Okay.” She went to set up the body scanner; Helmut called Clara. She arrived when he was in the machine. Charles Vickers arrived about the same time as well. Helmut joined the others clustered around the image on the screen.

“You see it?” said Juliette, pointing to the appendix. “It’s severely inflamed. I’m afraid it has to come out.”

“Really?” said Helmut, with dread in his voice. “Where? Here, or the Outpost?”

Juliette looked at Charles. “There’s no question that we can do it. I’m trained to be able to do almost everything. I took an appendix out at Shackleton and had to do various minor surgical operations at Magellan. Martha’s trained to assist; indeed, she could do the operation if she had to.”

“This is a laparoscopic procedure?” asked Charles.

Juliette nodded. “Yes. It’s a small incision; a centimeter or so. Recovery’s pretty quick.”

“And it’s a safe operation?” asked Clara.

“Oh yes.”

Charles looked at Helmut. “We can do this, and we need to be able to do operations like this in space. But we can get you to the Outpost pretty easily as well, if you prefer the hospital.”

“I wouldn’t recommend a ballistic flight to Aurorae,” said Juliette. “The gee-force could cause the appendix to rupture. I think it’s unlikely, but it’s a possibility. Every hour we wait, the more likely a rupture could occur.”

“And the more painful it’ll become,” said Helmut. “Let’s not wait. Let’s get this over with.”

“Okay,” said Juliette. “Don’t worry, this is pretty routine.”

-----------------------------------

Will was almost ready to leave Deseret Cafeteria as Sebastian was coming in. He waved and Sebastian walked over.

“Good sol; how’s Helmut?”

“Oh, he’s fine; resting and recovering from the surgery. It was routine and had no complications. The appendix was more inflamed than they thought and was about to rupture, Juliette said.”

“Wow, it’s a good thing they caught it when they did.”

“Oh, that’s for sure. I wish Helmut had said something twelve hours earlier; they could have flown him back here if they had a bit more lead time. But I guess it’s just as well. This could have happened half way to Ceres. Better that it be part of the training exercises two hours from a good hospital than two hundred million kilometers from anything.”

“Definitely. It sounds like the team has cohered well. They’re doing some excellent geology, I understand.”

“Charles has done an excellent job of building a team; this is one of the best teams I’ve ever seen, and we’re just three months into training. All the science and construction they’ve done has been first rate. The Chinese are very pleased by the addition to their station.”

“It’ll make it easier to share the place with the Americans. Say, I’ve got to go. I’m calling Charles when I get back, and if there’s anything new I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Will.”

Elliott nodded and headed out of the cafeteria. As he left the tent housing the store, Henry Smith saw him. “Good sol, Mr. Commissioner. I hope the lunch was good.”

“Yes, the chicken piccata special was excellent. I hope the Patio copies the recipe.”

“I’m sure they will! We innovate a lot more than they.”

“Say, what do you think of the plans for Andalus Dome?”

“I looked at them the other sol. The mall will be a great improvement over the current situation. I sent some suggestions to Tatiana, though; I don’t like the design for our space, especially the kitchen, and I’m still not sure how the tables in the food court will be covered.”

“The menus will be standard electronic paper; push an icon and the customers get any menu they want. The computer people told Alexandra that it wouldn’t be hard to set them up so that people can order straight from the menus by pushing icons or speaking to them.”

“Good, I was hoping we could set up direct customer ordering. Wait staff is just too difficult to retain.”

“I know, and between voice recognition and robotic delivery, it really isn’t necessary. If you have any suggestions about Andalus, videomail them to me; I’m trying to play a personal role in the project, so I’d like to know.”

“Okay, Mr. Commissioner, I will.”

“Thanks. Ciao.”

“Ciao.”

Will headed out the door and across Cochabamba Dome. It was a two-minute walk through a tunnel, across Shikuku, through another tunnel, and into Riviera Biome where Mars Control and his office were located. Back in his office, he called Charles Vickers.

“Good sol, Charles. I thought I’d call to make sure Helmut Langlais is doing alright.”

“Good sol, Will. Yes, he’s fine. I just visited him after lunch. He’s awake now, a bit weak and nauseous from the anesthetic, but he’s recovering fine. Juliette says he can resume regular duties in ten sols.”

“In time to fly back here, then.”

“Exactly. The shuttles arrive here in eight sols with the summer crew and fly us back to Aurorae in ten.”

“I’m relieved he’s doing so well and that the appendicitis was caught before it progressed any farther. Please congratulate Juliette and Martha for me, for acting so swiftly and effectively. From everything I’ve heard, you’ve done an incredible job, so congratulations to you as well.”

“Oh, don’t congratulate me! We’ve got Mars’s best. These are incredible people. We’re wrapping up our work down here and we’re looking forward to some shore leave, then two months of study of asteroids before we head for Embarcadero.”

“The workers up there are looking forward to turning over the finishing work to your folks. The best way to know a vehicle is to build it. It’ll be good to see you here, Charles. Let’s have lunch.”

“That’d be great. How’s everything at Aurorae?”

“Oh, pretty good. The big problem is balancing next year’s budget. It looks like we’ll be slashing Martian aircraft research, which is a real shame. The shuttles are a very expensive way to move people and a little cargo from point to point, surface transportation is cheap and slow, and the sunwings are cheap and rather slow. Silane-powered aircraft are better. What we really need are nuclear powered aircraft, but we can’t afford to fund that and no one else will. How has Caitlin adjusted?”

“Oh, pretty well. She misses her friends, even though she sees them every sol by video at school. We may try that all the way out to Ceres.”

“Tell her Marshall’s jealous. Well, I’ve got to run. Have a good sol. Ciao.”

“Ciao.”

Will closed the connection and turned to his email. There was yet another message from Ludwig Collins of the Environmental Management Audit Department in Seville that the Green World Community had postponed their compliance with safety regulations another month, and that they had offered a long term contract to sell Aurorae Spaceport two hundred tonnes of liquid methane over the next year, an offer the spaceport had turned down because it could not obtain the seven hundred tonnes of liquid oxygen needed to burn the methane as shuttle fuel. That was the last straw. With a growl, Will called Forest Rivers.

“Hello?” said Rivers, activating his videophone.

“Good sol, Forest; how are you doing?”

“Well, Dr. Elliott; our agriculture is doing really beautifully and our domes are greening very nicely. You should come visit us some time and relax for a few sols.”

“Thank you; if I can spare the time I might take you up on that. Say, Forest, I thought I’d let you know that I have made a very important decision regarding safety matters up here. As of March first, if we haven’t started receiving environmental management telemetry from Aram, there will be a one million redback fine per month. The fine will increase to two million redbacks per month on May first. I thought you’d like to know before this is announced publicly.”

Rivers was startled, if not shocked. He leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Elliott, this is grossly unfair; it’s unjust!”

“Unfair or unjust, that’s my decision. Sometimes I have to make unpopular or difficult decisions; as the head of a community, you know how that is. You’ll note that I’m not raising my voice or anything, just letting you know that this decision is final and there is no appeal. We look forward to receiving the telemetry soon.”

“And you will, I am sure.”

“I’m sure also. Have a good sol, Forest.”

“Good bye.”

“Good bye.” Will closed the circuit and spoke to his attaché. “Anisa, please transcribe the last video conversation with Dr. Rivers and copy it to Ruhullah Islami, Lisa Kok, Pierre Messier, Louisa Turner, and Ludwig Collins.”

--------------------------------

Things went back to normal after that for nine sols. Down at the south pole, the Ceres expedition packed up for their flight back to Aurorae Outpost with twelve tonnes of inflatable shelters and other exploration equipment. The Chinese summer crew arrived and began to move into the station. The departing crew briefed the arrivals about what they built and where they explored.

At Aurorae, a major expedition headed west, up the Valles Marineris system to probe various side canyons and explore the nearly infinite amount of exposed strata in the canyon sides. Regolith-moving equipment began to clear the ground for Andalus Dome.

Then at 4 a.m. March 1^st, an emergency call came from Aram Outpost. Will’s attaché began to ring wildly in emergency mode, jolting him awake. He dashed out of bed and over to it.

“No video please, Anisa. Activate call.” He paused for the light to come on. “Elliott here!”

“Dr. Elliott, this is Victor MacLeod, assistant to Dr. Rivers. We just had a major subsurface depressurization of Polder Eika. It’s causing pressure doors between it and the Polder Dva to leak and possibly fail.”

“Eika? Dva? Which ones are they?”

“Sorry; those are the names we’ve given our two cylindrical open-ground domes; ‘eika’ is one in Sanskrit, ‘dva’ is two. The leak is in number one and number two’s in danger of failure.”

Will was irritated that he knew so little about Aram’s setup that he didn’t even know the names of their enclosures. “Victor, can you get telemetry to us?”

There was a pause. “Negative, our central control is still not set up properly.”

Will wanted to scream not set up properly?! at the man, but resisted temptation. “Is everyone safe and accounted for?”

“Negative. We have people sleeping in temporary structures built under the space between the polders and they are trapped.”

“How many?”

“Six or eight, I think.”

“You think? Aren’t people wearing their ear pieces?”

“Negative, most of us don’t.”

“Can they get into an airlock?”

“We’ve told them to do exactly that, but the airlock between the domes is what is leaking.”

“I see.” Will paused. Ethel was now up and watching. “Anisa, connect this call to Mars Control as well, please,” he said, suddenly realizing that he had to get the expertise involved immediately. “Victor, has dome 2 depressurized yet?”

“According to calls from the space in between, it’s beginning to depressurize.”

“Call the people in between and ask them for a head count. Call everyone you can and get them to count people or report back. You have to know where everyone is in a situation like this. Can you scramble some people in pressure suits to work on the leak?”

“We’ve got three people working on it already, but the hole in the ground blew out to be quite large and water just goes down the hole without freezing. A jet of snowy air is shooting fifty meters into the air outside the dome.”

“You have a serious problem. Kent, are you on the line now?”

“Roger, Will. I heard a little of the conversation with Victor.”

“Victor, you work with Kent a while. I’m getting dressed and will run up to Mars Control in about two minutes. Anisa, transfer this call to Mars Control and close the call here.” Will grabbed the shirt he had been wearing the sol before, took off his pajama top, and pulled on the shirt. “The idiots!” he said to Ethel, once the line was dead. “I can’t believe this!”

“And they never sent telemetry.”

“And it’s four hours after the deadline. I’m fining them a million redbacks, just like I said, and now we have to go rescue them and we’ll get bad publicity for not stopping this.” He pulled on his old pants.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.” He unplugged his attaché, closed it, and picked it up. “Anisa, forward the entire call from Aram to Mars Control in Houston and alert Louisa Turner about it, no matter what time it is, day or night.” He waved goodbye to Ethel and dashed out of the house.

Mars Control was one level up, so he was there almost immediately. The two men on duty were clustered together around an attaché that carried audio, but no video; Will hadn’t realized Victor had made a telephone call to him, not a videophone call, because he had turned off his video. “Status?”

“The airlock doors between the two domes just failed.”

“What were they made of, cardboard?” growled Will. “Any more information about the five people in dome 2?”

“Two of them made it into the airlock on the other side of the dome, but three are unaccounted for.”

“Damn. Who can we get there?”

“Most of the exploration vehicles have left for Marineris or are in Hellas, and two shuttles are at the South Pole. We could scramble two other shuttles, but it’ll be noon tomorrow before they could fly. We’re really stretched thin right now.”

“The South Pole; the Ceres Expedition’s there and scheduled to leave in about six hours. They could fly to Aram just as easily, couldn’t they?”

“It’s the same distance as Aurorae, yes. But there’s inadequate fuel at Aram to get them back here.”

“They can make fuel there. Call the shuttle crews there; I’m calling Sebastian.” Will put down his attaché, opened it, and ordered it to call Sebastian in emergency mode.

Sebastian’s phone rang and rang and rang; it was the middle of the night, after all. Finally he answered with a groggy voice. “Hello.”

“Sebastian, this is Will. We’ve got an emergency—”

“Is it with Ceres?”

“No, no, but we need the help of Ceres. The Green World Community has had a major dome failure and it has depressurized a second dome as well. They’ve got people trapped. Ceres is scheduled to fly back here in six or seven hours; if they flew to Aram instead, they’d get there sooner than anyone else can. By the time they stabilized things, we could drive a team there overland. Sunwings can’t move enough people and cargo to be effective.”

“Of course.” There was a pause. “Their training is supposed to involve handling almost any conceivable emergency, since the twenty-six of them will be on their own for four years. And the training particularly focuses on building a sense of teamwork. This situation is perfect for both foci. Sure, they can go. I doubt both shuttles can go at once; they can probably accelerate the launch of one at the cost of delaying the launch of the other. Considering the team includes two children who barf every time they fly, a delay of the second shuttle may be wise. It’d be nice if some of the costs are picked up by someone.”

“I agree, but let’s worry about that later. As far as I’m concerned, the Green World Community will owe both of us something; probably in the vicinity of ten million redbacks each!”

“Okay, I’ll call Charles Vickers right now.”

“And we’ll call the pilots, since they’re Mars Commission employees. Sunrise at Aram is about two hours away. It’d be good if we can get a shuttle there in three or four hours.”

“That should be possible because both are loaded up, fueled, and checked out. And we know the launch site’s in daylight; the sun won’t set down there for half an annum.”

“Thanks, Sebastian. Come on down to Mars Control if you want.”

“I’ll call Charles, get dressed, and come on down. Bye.”

“Bye.” Will closed the circuit. He looked around Mars Control; three more personnel had arrived to help, one with curlers in her hair. Kent looked up.

“The situation’s deteriorating fast,” he said. “They’ve confirmed two dead in the housing between the domes. And now the airlock between dome one and the B-160 is beginning to leak. It looks like they’ll lose it, too.”

“No wonder they didn’t want to give us telemetry,” said Will, disgusted. “It sounds like nothing was built to specifications.”

“Airlocks made of cardboard,” agreed Kent, disgusted.

---------------------------------------------

For Helmut, the next five hours were a whirlwind of activity. Within minutes of Sebastian’s call, the emergency alarm sounded throughout South Pole Station, followed by details over the intercom. The shuttle Pavonis was to launch in less than three hours with eight personnel. It had a ranger inside—the only one they had brought along—packed with equipment. The shuttle Hadriaca was to follow five hours later with everyone else, and it might fly to Aurorae instead if the situation at Aram was stabilizing. All medical personnel were going on the Pavonis. So was Helmut, since he knew Aram.

The Pavonis was ready for launch at 7:30 a.m. The engines burned powerfully but briefly, boosting the ten-tonne shuttle and its fifteen tonnes of cargo to 10,000 kilometers per hour in a bit over two minutes. It flew ballistically—it had achieved three quarters the velocity it needed to orbit Mars—up into space, then back toward Aram, entering the atmosphere and burning off much of its speed half an hour later. Its parachutes popped open on schedule, slowing its fall, then the engines roared alive again and set the vehicle down for a safe landing on pad 3 about six kilometers from Aram Outpost.

No one was there to greet them, but no reception party was expected. The eight of them had flown to Aram wearing their pressure suits. They climbed into the ranger as soon as it was driven down the ramp and off the shuttle, and within fifteen minutes of landing they were approaching the Outpost.

“Oh my God,” said Helmut. They could see that both cylinder domes and the B-160 had collapsed under their own weight; clearly, no air was left inside.

“How could they have done this?” said Charles, shaking his head. “Two dead, three hectares of planted interior space now frozen and killed, housing destroyed, water boiling away and freezing into ice. . . this is unbelievable.”

“Especially since everything was looking fine when we left here six months ago,” said Helmut. “Of course, at the time the B-160 was all there was. The two cylinder domes were just ideas.”

“From the sound of things, the B-160 was depressurized because of their shoddy modifications to the work your team did,” said Charles. “I hope they can pick up the pieces.”

“I hope we don’t have to hang around very long to help them,” added Helmut.

The driver pulled the ranger up to the northern end of Cylinder Dome Eika. They could see a long, icy crack in the ground north of them; it was the cause of the air leak. Air with wisps of condensing water vapor could still be seen rising from it. The ground all around was white with snow.

“Wow; that crack must be five or six meters long and thirty centimeters wide,” said Helmut. “That must be a preexisting geological feature.”

“The Central Aram Plateau has some patterned ground,” said Charles. “I bet that’s the edge of a frost polygon. Note it has a sixty degree bend, which would be typical of a polygon.”

“They should have done the seismic survey everyone urged,” said Helmut. “But it was ‘too expensive.’”

“Not any more. Let’s go. Assuming they still have folks trapped in airlocks without space suits, we’ve got to get that crack plugged up so the dome can be repressurized, even briefly with CO2, so the trapped people can be rescued before their air runs out.”

They depressurized the ranger and stepped out. There was still no one to greet them, so Charles and two others headed for the crack to study it while Helmut headed for a nearby airlock to get inside and the physicians headed for a conestoga nearby where two injured people awaited their assistance. The airlock Helmut headed for happened to be one of two that had someone trapped inside, so he and the three engineers with him had to walk all the way around the dome over Genesis crater in order to reach the only useable airlock the outpost had. Victor MacLeod greeted him just inside, safely clad in a pressure suit.

“Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.” He held out his gloved hand; Helmut shook.

“It’s good to see you again, Victor. What’s happened in the last hour?”

“The B-160’s just about down; the airlock between the domes completely failed an hour ago. Did you see the crack around on the other side? Quite a spectacular jet of gas and water was coming out, I’ll tell you.”

“I bet. How big’s the hole inside?”

“It’s maybe three meters long and two wide. We’ve emptied about twenty tonnes of water into it and it did no good at all. That was all our spare water. There’s a cavern down there and all that water just thawed the sides and eroded it wider.”

“Charles Vickers says it looks like the edge of an ancient permafrost polygon. Freeze-thaw can create permanent cracks in the ground, and the dessication of the sediments on the plateau over the last three billion years probably caused ground shrinkage and opened it up even more. Eolian deposits and crater ejecta buried and hid it.”

“It’s really bad luck to build on top of one.”

“Well, they can be detected seismically. We found some weak zones near the Zen monastery and filled them with slurry or ice. Their dome isn’t leaking at all. Why did both airlocks fail, Victor? I can’t understand that.”

“We didn’t build them to exterior standards so they weren’t designed to hold up against a full pressure difference. We were fools; we cut corners.”

“How many injured?”

“Three, including Rivers, who was in Polder Dva—Dome 2—without a suit rescuing people when it depressurized. He’s recovering, though.”

“Who’s been in charge?”

“He is; he still is.”

“Well, actually, not any more. Elliott declared martial law here three hours ago. Charles Vickers is in charge until Lieutenant Governor Érico Lopes arrives by ranger with emergency supplies. That’ll be about midnight, I suppose.”

“I wish someone informed us!”

“I’m sure Elliott did, Victor.”

Victor MacLeod was silent about that. “I’m not sure he has the authority to declare martial law.”

“He does under the Mars Commission Treaty and the Mars Fundamental Law as Governor of Mars, not as Commissioner. What’s being done to rescue the people trapped in the airlock?”

“We’re welding a ranger to the airlock so that the trapped people can transfer to the ranger.”

“That’ll work, I guess. We’ve got a ranger with us, by the way, and it has regolith moving equipment. Our priority is plugging the hole so that your domes can be repressurized. Then we’ll have to figure out how to make sure the air stays in.”

“We probably never used enough water; I think we’ve soaked our 30,000 square meters with only 500 tonnes of water. As a result, we’ve lost an unbelievable amount of air in the last six months; something like 100 tonnes of oxygen. We’ve never been able to find a specific leak, either.”

“Victor, when you have a persistent leak, put down a plastic liner! You don’t have to have access to the Martian ground everywhere!”

“We’ve made some decisions based on philosophy instead of engineering,” Victor replied.

-------------------------------

Charles quickly marshalled the twenty people at Aram able to work and coordinated work welding a pressure tunnel to the airlock with people trapped inside. They were rescued in about four hours. Another crew turned to the other airlock with trapped people and welded another pressure tunnel to it, rescuing them before sunset. A third crew worked all night to weld reinforcements to the airlock between cylinder dome 1 and the B-160 so that the latter could be repressurized safely. There was no need for the rest of the Ceres crew to fly down; they would add too many people and not enough emergency housing. The second shuttle flew to Aurorae Outpost instead.

A bit after midnight, Érico Lopes arrived from Aurorae with six more crew, two mobilhabs to provide additional emergency housing, and three robotic trucks with supplies and regolith-moving equipment. In spite of the darkness, they deployed their equipment.

By midmorning the emergency was partially over. The B-160 was partially repressurized with carbon dioxide and some oxygen. Inside Cylinder Dome 1, water and fine-grained regolith were being mixed to make several tonnes of slurry to plug the cavern. The three injured persons were stable in a mobilhab set up as an infirmary.

About that time three large sunwings appeared in the sky over Aram Outpost. They landed successively at the new landing strip. On the first sunwing was Will Elliott. Within minutes he was inside Cylinder Dome 1 staring at the huge circular hole in the floor.

“It’s incredible what air pressure and warm water can do,” he said. He peered down into the hole. “It looks big enough for a skinny man to crawl through.”

“I think so,” agreed Charles. “We released a tonne of carbon dioxide into the dome earlier this morning as a test. The air pressure inside barely increased and dropped back to ambient in a matter of ten seconds or so. There’s an entire cave system down there and it must be at least half a meter wide and a meter or two high.”

“Big enough for a skinny man without a pressure suit. It’s a permafrost polygon?”

“Probably. We’ll do seismic tests in three or four sols to map the subsurface in this area, and then we’ll probably know.”

Will nodded. He looked around Cylinder Dome 1 in detail for the first time. The space was thirty meters wide and 150 meters long, occupying nearly half a hectare of space. Originally a series of garden plots of corn, wheat, tomatoes, potatoes, rice, green beans, cucumbers, and zucchini, it was now devastated and brown. Nothing was alive. The rice paddy was drained of water and tinged white with ice. The corn still stood, with limp and withered leaves, but the wheat and other plants had fallen flat. Several garden plots had gaping holes where the workers had excavated soil to make the slurry to plug the leak.

Will was curious to look at the brick housing built into the wall facing cylinder dome 2. The brick façade was quite impressive; it was thirty meters long, with a series of glass windows opening on the sunlight and verdancy of the dome. He could see that behind the façade, the regolith was piled on top of the dome, so the structure had massive radiation shielding. He walked to the main door and opened it.

Inside was a large, unfinished space, the plastic dome and its regolith overburden overhead supported by metal plates and large brick columns every seven or eight meters. Sunlight poured into the space through the dome-facing windows. He could see sunlight at the far side as well. “So, this future accommodation connects all the way across to cylinder dome 2?”

“Affirmative,” said Charles. “That’s why the other dome depressurized as well. They’ll have to weld together a metal pressure barrier across the space and install at least two airlocks.”

“A lot of work. But it has immense potential. Is it safe?”

“It appears to be.”

Will and Charles crossed to the other side. They opened the door and entered cylinder dome 2. It was a destroyed ecology just like the first; a sad thing to see. Then they walked back to Cylinder Dome 1 and took the tunnel to Genesis Crater and the B-160. The vegetation inside was not completely dead, since it had been reduced to Martian conditions for only half a sol, but it was badly wilted. The interior of the crater had been smoothed and terraced using the loose rocks originally covering the walls and floor; the transformation was quite impressive. A large brick building with a flat patio roof covered part of the crater floor and extended against the crater wall.

“Does that continue as underground structures?” asked Will.

Charles nodded. “Yes, and eventually they had planned to connect it all the way to Cylinder Dome 1. I think they have to reconsider that idea now.”

“I dare say. I like their architecture and their overall plan. The twenty-five of them already had three hectares of greenery; I’m impressed by their accomplishments. I like the idea of extending the cylinder domes over the entire area, too.”

“Though it has suffered a pretty serious blow.”

“Yes; two people are dead. But what they plan to do is not impossible, they just have to move more slowly and be more careful. These cylinder domes can be made safe. I’m convinced more than ever that we need to move in this direction. Think how nice it would be to purchase land beneath the interdome area and build your own house. You could even have your own private garden; you’d have to pile the regolith away from part of the plastic membrane to let the sunlight in or install skylights through the overburden. Underground housing would be easier to build because the ground could be left to strengthen walls and keep them airtight.”

“True. But this disaster shows what a poor design can do.”

“That’s for sure. I should see Dr. Rivers, I think. How’s he doing?”

“He wants to get out of bed! He was unconscious for just a few seconds and never stopped breathing, so he’s basically okay. He needs to rest, which is impossible with the situation here.”

“Yes, and I can’t assure him very much.” Will turned and they walked back to cylinder dome 1, then out through the airlock and over to the mobilhab serving as an infirmary. The three patients were on the bottom floor in separate areas divided by curtains.

“Dr. Elliott!” said Forest, surprised by his visitor. “What brings you here?”

“What brings me here? I think one could say a major disaster for Martian settlement. We’ve never lost two people in one accident before. These are victims three and four. Four dead out of six hundred people on Mars: that’s not very good odds if you’re considering emigrating here.”

“I suppose not. I can’t tell you how horrible I feel about this disaster. I won’t be able to sleep for months, thinking about this terrible tragedy. My community has been devastated by it.”

“I’m sure. How are you feeling?”

“Slowly better. I managed to get two people into an airlock, but didn’t quite get there fast enough myself! But I’m on the mend, now.”

“Good. I want to express my personal condolences to you and your entire community for this tragedy. In a few minutes I plan to speak to everyone by spacesuit radio about this event and its implications, but I wanted at least to see you first and tell you what the implications are.”

Rivers had a grave look on his face. “Yes; what are the implications?”

“First, martial law will have to continue here, with Lieutenant Governor Érico Lopes in charge, for at least the next month. That will give him time to stabilize the environmental management situation here; we can’t leave until the oxygen leakage has been greatly reduced and the pressure inside is stable. Second, there has to be an investigation. Everyone here will be interviewed. In the end charges of criminal negligence may be filed against you or someone else. I can’t predict the result of the investigation since I won’t be involved in it.”

“You won’t?”

“No. In the last twenty-four hours there has been a persistent and growing call for an independent investigation, so that’s what it will be. They won’t just be investigating you, Forest; they’ll be investigating me and everyone else as well. They’ll be investigating all of Mars.”

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