14
Test
Will’s mother called back first, in spite of the early hour; she rose fairly early, whereas Ethel’s father was out on his daily walk and shopping trip. They were both surprised, supportive, and worried. That summarized Will and Ethel’s feelings as well. Conversations by exchange of video messages continued on and off for two hours.
Will headed to the Great Room long enough to grab lunch for Ethel and himself, then retreat back to their cozy apartment, where they could eat without looking their friends in the eye. There was nothing to say yet. He nodded to Shinji, who seemed to understand what that meant. Sebastian made a few humorous remarks that were supportive; uncharacteristic, as he rarely showed his humor.
Having finished eating, Will began to draft an email to send to Mission Control. Ethel looked over his shoulder and they debated how much to say. In the end, they settled on two short, factual paragraphs that made no attempt to sound defensive, either by justifying the event too much or blaming someone else. Sebastian read it over and offered no comment except “send it.”
Then half the afternoon was consumed by a rambling video meeting between Will, Ethel, Sebastian, Shinji, Harold Lassen (Director of Mars Mission Operations), Jerry McCord (capcom and commander of the Columbus 3 flight), two assistant directors, and a public information officer. They felt drained when it finished, and it was suppertime. “I know we’re all tired, but we have to tell everyone at supper,” Sebastian said. “This news will break pretty soon.”
“Okay, let’s go,” said Ethel.
The four of them left Will and Ethel’s living room and headed for supper.
Everyone else had arrived and had started eating when they entered. The four of them had facial expressions that got the attention of several people right away. “I hate to interrupt supper, but I suppose this is news that can’t wait until we’re all drinking coffee,” exclaimed Sebastian.
That got everyone’s attention right away. Sebastian turned to Ethel and Will. “Will the two of you do the honors?”
Ethel nodded. “It’s a simple piece of news, actually; one that is announced millions of times every day on Earth, and is usually greeted with great joy. But the situation is different here, I guess you could say. Will and I are pregnant. We found out this morning and were in a state of shock and disbelief for quite some time. The whole experience still feels surreal, I might add. It’ll take some time for this to sink in completely. Nevertheless, since it appears there is no reason to assume the baby will be born with two heads, and no reason to assume this will doom us, we have decided we have to take a chance and keep the baby.”
That created quite a murmur; “whoa!” and “wow” and “uh-huuuuh” could be heard. Then everyone stared, not sure how to react or whether to ask questions.
“One result of their decision to keep the baby: I will stay on Mars two more years,” added Shinji. “I want to make sure the mother and the baby are as healthy as possible.”
“What are the risks?” asked Carmen.
“It’s hard to say,” replied Shinji. “We really don’t know. Madhu, how do the rabbit babies do?”
“The vast majority are fine,” she replied. “Of course, statistically I’d say the percentage that are not normal is close to five percent, rather than one percent on Earth. And maybe ten percent on the moon.”
Shinji shrugged. “There you have it. The best statistics we have. The chance of a healthy, normal birth is probably better here than in a poor rural area on Earth lacking health care, or in an urban slum. But the chances aren’t as good as in the hospitals where your nieces and nephews are being born, either.”
That sunk in and they all pondered it. “This is a pretty small place for a child,” commented Madhu.
“Maybe NASA will enlarge it,” replied Will. “By the time the child is four, Columbus 5 will have arrived. How big will it be then? Pretty big, for a four year old.”
“The imports will get interesting,” commented Madhu. “Infant formula, onesies, teething rings; and later Barbie dolls!”
“It’s cheaper than flying in a replacement crewmember,” replied Ethel.
“Do you really think you can do this?” asked Roger, skeptically.
Will looked at him. “Yes, we think we can. It’s a matter of faith, you might say. But then, having a child is always a matter of faith, because you don’t know what will result. We’re just facing a few unusual unknowns.”
“I’d say so!” replied Roger.
“If we have the help of our friends, we can do it,” said Ethel. “The more uncles and aunts, the better.”
“I think this is great,” replied Madhu. “I think a child is just what this place might need. A bunch of adults living without children isn’t natural, either socially or emotionally.”
“This is a step forward for the Outpost,” agreed Shinji. “Or maybe I should speak more impartially, as a physician and a psychologist: this can be a step forward for the Outpost, if we decide to make it a step forward.”
“I agree,” said Sebastian. “I’m commander here only for another month, but Shinji has put his finger on the situation. We can all argue about this decision, second guess it, and question its wisdom; or we can respect it and help our friends. There is no advantage to the first path, in my opinion, because we don’t know enough about the future to be sure it’s unhappy or even that it’s likely to be unhappy. This will probably work out.”
“What will NASA say?” asked Roger.
“We just spent three hours on the videophone with them,” replied Will. “The reaction really wasn’t as bad as I thought; in fact, it ended up being positive. No one can demand that NASA shut down the Mars project any more. If anything, this will make Mars more attractive to the middle class families that make up most of America’s taxpayers. There’s nothing NASA can do about this development; certainly, they can’t order Ethel to have an abortion, either morally or from the point of view of public relations. It’s an accident, it’s happened, it can’t be reversed.”
“So, let’s make the most out of it,” agreed Paul. “I, for one, propose a toast to our friends, the new parents.”
“A toast?” asked Madhu. “I propose a hug!” She rose and walked to Ethel, embraced her, then embraced Will. Paul chuckled and rose to follow her. Shinji followed, then Armando and Sebastian. Carmen and Monika rose from their chairs to hug her and Will; Roger as well. Finally, with some hesitation, Érico got up and hugged his two friends.
----------------------------
Will and Ethel did not sleep well that night; there was too much to think about, sometimes over and over. Will rose in the middle of the night, put on a coat, and entered Greenhouse 1. With a push of a button he rolled back the nocturnal insulation so that he could see the sky, at least for a few minutes before condensation on the cold plastic clouded it. Phobos and Deimos were both sailing overhead, mostly full; the blackness was carpeted by stars. Life would never be the same. He knew vaguely how much time and energy children took. Gone were the sols when he could work thirteen or even fifteen hours before he slept.
But was that bad? It was a big change, no doubt. It was a new phase in his life. It was even a new phase in the exploration—the settlement—of Mars. He didn’t really know what to think of that and knew he’d just have to adjust. But he wished he knew the decision they had made was right. Would their child, twenty years from now, be occupying the first grave in Aurorae Cemetery? Or would he or she be in a university on Earth, or attending “Aurorae University,” or perhaps be on an exploratory flight in the asteroid belt?
The possibilities were strange and hard to evaluate. Some were frightening in the extreme; a deformed child requiring constant care would tie them up for their entire adulthood and would burden the outpost and NASA. Clearly, the only thing he could do about some of the possibilities was to pray. So he looked at the moons and the stars and recited every Bahá'í prayer he had memorized, which took some time. Then he went back to bed.
Ethel had no such option; she knew no prayers. She awoke feeling ill and it made her depressed. Will went to get her breakfast; she almost threw it up. Finally, feeling a bit better physically, she decided to pull herself together. She washed, dressed, and headed to the bridge.
Sebastian was surprised to see her. “I’m sorry I missed yesterday’s appointment, but we can talk any time.”
“Really? You’ve got media interviews this sol.”
“They start at two; 2-5 p.m.”
“Well, you probably should prepare. I don’t need your help.”
“Sebastian, please. Helping you makes things feel. . . normal.”
“Oh? You know, I didn’t sleep well last night; I feel really bad about the mix-up with the pills. I want to apologize to you for that.”
“Thank you, Sebastian, I appreciate it, but it really isn’t necessary. I’ve forgiven you for your role—not a central role—in this event. It was a chain of screw-ups that got me to this point, and some of them were mine. So don’t worry about it.” She sighed. “This sol it’s beginning to hit me emotionally. Yesterday it was all adrenaline and reason.”
“Not all; there were a few tears.”
“Yes, there were a few of them, too. But this sol, frankly, I’m feeling depressed. It’s a huge, wrenching change to my life. My career will never look the same and trying to make a place in my life for a new role. . . well, it’ll take some time.”
“You’ve got about eight months.”
“Thank God for that. Meanwhile, I have nausea every morning to remind me of the changes coming.”
“Take two hours off, if you want, and work less.”
“No! That’s what I want to avoid! I want the next nine months to be at least reasonably normal. Then the baby comes and I’ll take maternity leave. Then Will and I will alternate taking care of the baby six hours a day.”
“That might work. And I suspect we can arrange some other childcare help as well. Or maybe I should say that some other help can be arranged, since I won’t be here to do it.”
“I’m sure others will help.”
“Do you want to hear the strange rumors?”
“There are strange rumors?”
Sebastian smiled. “Well, of course. The American Enquirer has been publishing stories all along about how we’re in contact with aliens and we’re a funnel for alien technology to the United States and Europe. Now their website has an advance copy of a ‘scoop’ demonstrating that the baby is an alien.”
Ethel laughed, though she was uncomfortable. “Yes, there will always be those rumors.”
“The serious ones will be harder to deal with. People will say you intentionally got pregnant and will offer a hundred motivations, some quite convoluted or conspiratorial.”
“I know, and it’s been weighing on me. In that sense, we’re international celebrities, and we have to deal with the same pressures as movie stars. At least we’re isolated here.”
“Another reason to stay.”
She nodded. “Definitely. Well, what do you have?”
Sebastian turned to his desk and grabbed a three-page memo. “I ran this past Rick Page, head of the garage at the International Space Station yesterday, and he made a few minor changes to get the specs right. I haven’t sent it in yet because once I heard your news, I decided no one would pay attention.”
Ethel nodded and took the three pages. She read and nodded. “As far as I know, this is right. Rick repairs a lot more engines and pumps than we do. The test you recommend is standard, too. And you’re the expert, not me.” She handed it back to him.
“I’ll email it later this sol. They’ll check everything, review the data we’ve collected, read the memo, and make their own recommendation; which will probably be the same. Then we’ll get the software routine in an email in about three days.”
“They are predictable.” Ethel stood up. “Well, since I can’t be helpful here, I guess I’ll go back to our apartment to prepare it, and then Will and I will run through the emails the public information folks will inevitably send us. They’re preparing a list of difficult questions and possible talking points for us.”
She turned and headed back to the apartment. In Greenhouse 4 she walked past Carmen, who was sitting next to the rice paddy watching the fish swimming. Her eyes were red from crying. Ethel barely noticed the red eyes and stopped after walking past her. “Carmen? What’s wrong?”
She looked up. “It’s Érico. He’s been spooked by your baby. He’s not sure he wants to get married.” She almost cried the last words.
“What? When did this happen?”
“This morning.”
“I’ll ask Will to talk to him.”
Carmen stared, not sure what to say. Ethel leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Don’t worry.”
Ethel headed back to the apartment and told Will. He headed for Érico’s room. “Érico, are you there?”
A pause. “Is that you, Will?”
“Yes. Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Will opened the door and stepped inside. Érico was sitting on his bed, wearing a tee shirt and shorts; clothes rarely worm around the Outpost. “What’s up?”
“Oh, not much. I’m just wondering whether I should return to Earth, after all.”
“Why?”
He hesitated. “Will, I’m not prepared to become a father.”
“Who’s asking you to become a father? Is Carmen pregnant?”
“Oh, no. We checked her bottle; it’s not four years old. But. . . well, as you know, my childhood was pretty rough. I wouldn’t want to wish such a life on a child.”
“Who says you would, though? This is Mars, not Brazil. There are no lousy orphanages or shoddy adoption procedures here. Carmen isn’t your mother and you aren’t your father.”
“I know, but. . . I don’t want to disappoint Carmen.”
“Do you think she’ll be happier if she doesn’t marry you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Will.” Érico looked away.
“Well, I don’t know whether Ethel and I will be happier if this baby is born, either. But we’ve decided it’s better to take the chance than to kill it.”
“I salute you guys for that. It takes real courage.”
“And you don’t have courage? I’ve seen plenty of courage in you in the last seventeen months, Érico. You’ve traveled through hundreds of millions of kilometers of space, then across thousands of kilometers of Martian desert. Doesn’t that involve managing a lot of risks and having some faith in the future?”
He nodded. “People are the problem for me, not technology.”
“Well, you won’t find a better woman to help you deal with people than Carmen.”
Érico smiled. “That’s true.”
“It’s up to you, my friend. You haven’t had people problems with me or anyone else on Columbus 2. We’ve had people problems, but not from you! I can’t make up your mind for you. But just remember that your friends here love you and want the best for you, and for Carmen.”
“Thanks, Will. I really appreciate that. This is one of those inner demons I have to slay myself.”
“I understand.” Will put his hand on Érico’s shoulder, then headed out of his room.
----------------------------
The test of the Hadriaca’s engines was scheduled for three days later in the afternoon, so that Ethel had the energy to participate fully. Besides, it was more convenient for the engineers in Houston; the Outpost’s clocks were still three hours ahead.
The plan was to fire the engines for ten seconds, enough for the shuttle to lift off, fly upward a hundred meters, then come back down to a soft landing. The test involved throttling the engines up and down in order to test the pumps at various speeds. Sebastian and Ethel ran the test from the bridge in Habitat 3; there was no need to be on board.
The software routine had been carefully tested in Houston and sent to Mars for downloading onto the Hadriaca’s computers. The two of them watched the countdown carefully, monitoring the shuttle’s functioning carefully. The engines roared alive at t-minus zero and lifted the shuttle off the ground; then the computer aborted the liftoff and the engines powered down for an emergency landing after the computers switched off the questionable pump.
“Damn!” exclaimed Sebastian. “Test routine abort at t-plus 1.6 seconds.”
“Pump 2 got to seventy percent of rated power,” added Ethel. “Then it wouldn’t go any higher and the computer shut it off.”
“Run the full diagnostics,” Sebastian asked, pointing. He pulled up the pump’s data readout. “Transmitting full dataset to you now, Houston.” The total amount of data on the shuttle’s systems accumulated at a rate faster than it could be transmitted to Earth even if the entire communications capacity of the Outpost was dedicated just to that task; so the data had been stored on the Outpost’s computer for rebroadcast. Sebastian triggered that. He hit replay on the video camera and he and Ethel watched the aborted launch again.
“The routine could have included an abort override; the shuttle could have launched and landed safely on the other two fuel pumps,” said Ethel.
“Yes, but we got what we needed. Pump 2 is flaky.”
“Now what?”
“I doubt we can fix it in the four weeks left before blast-off. We have the time to try. But I can’t guarantee the shuttle’s safety, either.”
“I agree,” said Ethel. “This fix is beyond our capacities. Better to fly the shuttle to orbit on two engines unmanned. We could still use it to haul cargo to the interplanetary habitats.”
“It can serve as an emergency vehicle for the flight home, too. The shuttle needs a heat shield for that, not all three engines. One engine is sufficient for trans-Earth injection and course corrections. But this may affect the flight to Deimos. I wonder whether Mission Control will be willing to launch three Mars shuttles, now that one has a problem.”
“We’ll have to carry out a thorough check of the engine to convince them it’s not a design flaw. We’ve got four shuttles here, so we’d still have a backup. It would be complicated, though.”
“But nothing we can’t handle,” said Sebastian. He sighed and they turned back to the task of deactivating the shuttle’s systems. Finished, Ethel headed back to her apartment. She and Will were still handling television interviews after three days. The public interest in the baby showed no sign of diminishing, though she and Will were getting tired of answering the same questions over and over again. At least NASA was giving them some new things to talk about; Columbus 1 would feature nearly a tonne of supplies for the baby and a nursery, even though that meant a tonne less supplies for science, horticulture, and manufacturing.
Walking through habitat 2, she spotted Carmen and Érico in the Great Room, talking. They smiled and waved. “Ethel, the wedding’s on,” Carmen exclaimed, and Érico nodded. Ethel headed home with a bit more bounce in her step.