11
Conjunction
Will and Érico stopped their ranger by the new water supply reservoir on their way over to the Geology Storage Facility. Conjunction or not, the geologists were still doing some exploration; it just involved very short half-day and day trips. The two of them, Roger, and Paul had just spent the morning hiking up Little Colorado Canyon to visit the automated oasis half way up and survey a possible route for driving to the top of the canyon. Roger and Paul were following in the other ranger, which was pulling a portahab.
There wasn’t much to see. They had taken a minimalist approach, building a dam across the bottom of a long gully-like depression near the well. The warm, moist air coming out the well passed through a heat exchanger that cooled it to just above the freezing point to condense out the water, which trickled down an insulated pipe to the reservoir. The water quickly froze to make a mound of ice. A sheet of plastic, supported by plastic poles every few meters, covered the reservoir and kept in the water vapor. Once they built up a block of ice covering the dam, three meters high and three wide, they’d add another plastic sheet and build another parallel layer of ice upstream. Under the accumulating ice they had laid a coil of plastic tubes. In about a year they’d have enough ice to run warm air through the coils and melt a pod of water inside the ice, which would allow them to pump water out easily and introduce plants and animals if they wanted to.
Will had been driving the ranger in his pressure suit. He stopped, opened the driver’s side door—the interior had been unpressurized—and stepped out, followed by Érico. He lifted a door and walked under the plastic ceiling.
“Good; a steady trickle,” he said.
“It’s warm under the plastic though; only minus twenty centigrade,” noted Érico. “The water has actually warmed the place up.”
“I still think we should have used the air and water under here as the heat exchanger. The steady flow of heat from the well would keep the water under here above freezing, and we could try to introduce a simple ecology.”
“I don’t blame Monika for objecting; it could cause the release of terrestrial species able to survive in Martian hot springs.”
“Yes, I agree, I guess. I’ve become rather skeptical about the idea that Mars still has indigenous life.”
“Well, the chances are fading every year.” Érico reached over and grabbed the pipe. He broke off the icicle that had accumulated between it and the ground and moved the pipe a few centimeters. That was the weakness of their system; someone had to stop by at least once per sol to move the pipe, or it would be embedded in the growing ice block it produced.
They turned and headed out. “Let’s just hope the suspense lasts a few more years,” added Will. “The possibility of life is providing much of the publicity and more than half the funding for Mars exploration.”
They stepped back into the ranger. Will slid into the driver’s seat; Érico sat next to him. They headed toward the Geology Storage Facility, up the slope at the base of Boat Rock. “You’re right about that. Brazil may actually commit to sending someone every cycle. My presence here has generated a lot of publicity and made the Brazilians feel proud of their country.”
“It sounds like quite a competition is heating up, actually. I never would have expected that the decision of eight of us to stay would have been received so positively; it’s expensive, after all. I guess it suggests that this place is more habitable, more pleasant than expected.”
“You and Ethel, I think, are largely responsible for that. You set a positive tone for the Outpost, you’ve stressed community, and you’ve been a model couple.”
“Thank you. It’s our personalities, I guess; we both love to play host or parent.”
“You do. Your parents are Bahá'ís, right?”
“Yes. So am I, though here I’m the only Bahá'í on the planet, so there is no community to be a member of.”
“We don’t have much religion here, anyway, except for the interfaith service you and Ethel planned when Paul’s cousin died. There aren’t enough of us, I guess, and we’re not a highly religious bunch.”
“I don’t know about that. Roger is Southern Baptist and he reads his Bible; I’ve seen him. When we were room mates on the trip to the northern polar deposits, we were sort of watching each other and seeing who prayed more!”
“Who won?”
“It was a tie, I think.”
“I know some Brazilian Bahá'ís. Very nice people; articulate, socially conscious, though I was surprised they weren’t more politically active. I was very impressed that they didn’t seem to have any prejudice toward me because of my darker skin. Brazilians pride themselves on being free of racial bias, but the fact is that lighter skinned peoples earn more than darker skinned peoples, on average. The Bahá'í group I met, though, was a real mix.”
“We strongly emphasize unity in diversity, even to the extent of supporting and encouraging interracial marriage.”
“Were your parents from different races?”
Will nodded. “My father is black and my mother, white. But it really wasn’t too difficult for me because in the Bahá'í community there were a few other families who had a similar mix, or were European-Persian or Persian-Latino.”
“My background is mixed as well; maybe you can tell from my skin color.”
“I guessed that was the case. I really know nothing about your childhood and upbringing.”
Érico smiled, a bit embarrassed. “I guess I can tell you the details. Carmen knows as well, but no one else. My mother was a Brazilian of nearly pure African background; very black, or so I am told. She apparently was raped by a Brazilian of Portuguese background, and being a strong Catholic—among the few—she decided not to have an abortion, but put me up for adoption. I was adopted by a struggling middle class family whose skin was a bit darker than mine. It was not a good match, but who would have known it at the time, right? Anyway, I left home at age fifteen, and after four years on the streets, as a result of friendship with a remarkable college professor—I started taking night classes at a very inexpensive college, and he was my science teacher—I was encouraged and empowered to apply to one of Brazil’s most difficult universities. They accepted me and to this day I’m still not sure how it happened. But from then on, everything got better.”
“Mentors can be very important. I don’t know whether I’d be here today if it weren’t for a geology teacher I had in high school.” Will applied the brakes. “Here we are.”
They opened the doors—they were still suited up—and walked over to the Geology Storage Facility. In the last two weeks, a lot of progress had been made. The walls and ceiling were now buried under three meters of regolith, mixed with water and frozen hard as rock. White parachute cloth had been draped over the mound and anchored to keep the water from evaporating and make the building easy to see. Two of the four openings were blocked by metal airlocks built by Ethel and Paul out of locally refined metals. Ethel was busily welding inside one of the airlocks; they entered the building through one of its openings and saw her.
She looked up when she heard them approaching; suit radios were set to broadcast the rustling sounds that suits make over a common radio frequency at a very low power, so that when someone approached someone else, they knew. “How was the trip?”
“Good; we think we can build a ramp up the first cliff in the Little Colorado Canyon with the use of some explosives,” replied Will. “Paul and Roger headed straight over to the manufacturing facility to make some of the equipment.”
“I know; I talked to them. What I need you guys to do this afternoon is start on the third airlock. We’ve got the parts completed, and we assembled them quickly inside to test the tolerances. If you can fit everything in place and spot weld it, we can complete the welding tomorrow.”
“You mean the third airlock will be finished by tomorrow?” asked Érico, surprised.
Ethel nodded. “And the fourth two days later. Most of the time has been consumed making the parts, and we made the parts for all four airlocks at once, plus a spare set. Then putting together the first airlock took a long time. But now we know what we’re doing.”
“That’s true,” agreed Will. “We can spot weld all the big pieces by the end of the day, I’m sure.”
“All the little pieces were put together inside, where we didn’t have pressure suits to hinder us,” added Ethel. “We still have a few minutes before lunch; you might want to start looking at the parts.”
“Okay,” agreed Érico. He and Will walked back outside and began to walk along the parts that Ethel had very carefully laid out in the sand, in the order of their use. Each one was carefully labeled as well, so there would be no confusing. The actual doors were already on their hinges and the valves that let air in and out had already been installed and tested. They did that work inside the manufacturing facility where they didn’t need pressure suits and could use very small screw drivers and power tools.
It was a familiar job; the two of them had set up and spot welded airlock 2 three days earlier. After a few minutes of reviewing the parts and the procedures they followed, the announcement that lunch would be ready in twenty minutes came over the common radio frequency. They all headed to Habitat 3 for a chicken, vegetable, and potato soup. It was one of their first uses of native grown potatoes.
“Hey, everyone, there’s good news,” said Sebastian to the whole group, after they had eaten a few minutes. “This morning—afternoon, European time—the French announced that in addition to their continued support for the European Space Agency’s Mars commitment, they would make a commitment to send three French astronauts to Mars every opposition.”
“Three!” exclaimed Carmen, surprised. “What does that do to the European quota of two?”
“Augments it. There will now be five Europeans coming to Mars every two years. The United States, in response to the announcement, says it plans to raise its national commitment to four.”
“But what about the other nations?” asked Paul, startled. “We’ve now accounted for nine berths. Right now, we can only fly eight people to Mars at once.”
“That’s changed as well,” replied Sebastian, smiling. “NASA has announced that it will add a third ITV to Columbus 3, the backup unit now reaching completion. Furthermore, they are willing to accommodate up to two additional crew on the two Mars shuttles. Columbus 3 will have at least twelve crew, maybe as many as fourteen.” Sebastian let that sink in.
Will cheered. “Fantastic! If fourteen come and eight stay, the Outpost will have 22 people! That’s barely below our capacity of 24, though.”
“They must be counting on us to complete this pressurizable building, then,” said Ethel.
Sebastian nodded. “Absolutely true. If the automated cargo vehicle carrying Habitat 4 were to fail, we’d have 22 people here in three habitats. It’s possible, but it leaves no redundancy if one of those three habs got severely damaged and had to be abandoned. Consequently, the crew coming here will be strong on construction skills. A design for a new crew accommodation and work building will be complete by the time they arrive. If progress on the building is sufficient, Columbus 4 won’t need to include a habitat; just windows, life support equipment, and other objects we can’t make here easily.”
“Incredible,” said Roger. “So we have commitments for nine, between the Europeans and the Americans. Russia and Canada have promised one each.”
“And Brazil; that’s what I hear through the grapevine,” added Érico.
“Japan will probably send someone; that’s thirteen,” said Shinji. “I wonder whether a fourteenth will materialize? Argentina or Chile could decide to compete with Brazil, or India could make a commitment.”
“China may want in, too,” added Will. “They’ve now joined the Lunar Commission, after all.”
“Iran and Indonesia might be possibilities as well,” added Sebastian. “It’ll be interesting to see.”
“When are we going to get a Mars Commission, anyway?” asked Ethel. “NASA led the exploration of the moon for six years before bowing to international pressure and putting everything under an international body. It seems to me they need to abolish the Columbus missions and just send reinforcements to a Mars Outpost, under an international Mars Commission.”
“I agree,” said Will.
“I suspect NASA feels that’s premature,” replied Sebastian. “Though I agree, and I suspect the French announcement will put NASA under pressure to accommodate partners more fully. Of course, we’re in a different situation than the moon, with one resupply window every two years rather than a three-day flight between the two bodies at any time. Separate national bases are not practical here the way they are on the moon.”
“At least for another decade,” replied Will. “Cheaper and faster transportation between the Earth and Mars may change that situation.”
“It’s beginning to look like this place has quite a future ahead of it,” agreed Sebastian.