1.
Commander
The high-definition video screen in Habitat 2 was a meter and a half square and gave a vivid color picture of the scene at Cape Canaveral, Florida. Surging across the image was a sea of protesters twenty thousand strong—the largest protest ever seen at the Kennedy Space Center. The reporter was summarizing the battle with police and National Guardsmen, which had included generous use of tear gas.
In the lower right corner of the image, in addition to the date—August 16, 2024, which happened to be the date according to the Aerogregorian calendar as well as the standard terrestrial calendar—was the countdown. The television network abruptly switched away from the angry crowd to the Swift Shuttle—a cone-shaped reusable rocket thirty meters tall—sitting on a simple launch pad. It was not at Kennedy Space Center, however, but on little San Salvador Island, Christopher Columbus’s first landfall in the Bahamas, 500 miles southeast of Kennedy. It was the Swift Shuttle’s base of operations, and beyond the reach of the frustrated protestors.
The countdown clock rolled over to t-minus 15 minutes. “Another quarter hour to launch,” said Roger Anderson, with a smile. “One Swift shuttle with five nuclear reactors on board. Too bad, protesters.”
“Let’s hope none of their friends have purchased stinger missiles,” noted Will Elliott. There had been a terrorist incident recently with a Stinger surface to air missle and a passenger jet, and the media had focused a lot of attention on the possibility one could bring down a shuttle full of reactors.
“That would be pretty crazy, wouldn’t it; protesting the launch of a shuttle with nuclear reactors because you fear the shuttle might crash and dump uranium in the ocean, and then shooting the shuttle down to make your point. I suppose there are people crazy enough to do that.”
“I fear there are. At least there won’t be any more protests of this sort for twenty-six months, since they’re launching a two-year supply of reactors.”
“The protesters are idiots,” said Roger, who had no sympathy at all. “The Swift Shuttle’s safety is estimated at one crash per 2,000 flights, and now that it’s being used as a hypersonic cargo delivery vehicle, the safety claim has some history to back it up. And they estimate that the reactors are practically indestructible. No one can even propose a scenario where uranium would be released into the environment.”
“Roger, I know.”
“Hey, Will, I’m just telling you this because you’re too liberal!” Roger tapped Will on the shoulder, partly out of affection. After a year and a half, they had gone from geological rivals to friends, in spite of their personality, religious, and cultural differences.
Will smiled. “I’m not sympathetic to this. The protest is really a publicity stunt and a way to whip up the emotions of the faithful. Those reactors don’t pose any reasonable or significant risk to anyone or anything. We need our two, and the moon needs its three; and rather badly.”
“Reactors are being built all over the earth again to make electrical power; the new generation is cheaper and much safer. The alternative is to remain at the mercy of the petroleum exporters and their declining output, while melting the arctic polar cap. It’s crazy.” Roger shook his head.
“Let’s be thankful NASA caved in and was willing to use the Swift shuttles to launch the reactors,” noted Will.
Roger nodded. “NASA had to admit they’re safer; even better, the launch is hundreds of miles from any protesters. I doubt they’ll use the Swift for anything else any time soon.”
“It’s a controversial vehicle design for them, and they say it doesn’t meet the man rating requirements” replied Will, trying to justify the decision.
“They should get over it,” replied Roger. “The second stage is basically a Mars shuttle fueled with hydrogen instead of methane, with larger fuel tanks and a smaller cargo hold. Dr. Swift avoided several thousand hours of wind tunnel tests as a result, and the resulting vehicle should be man-ratable. The first stage may be harder to man rate because it’s an original piece of technology and because it goes straight up and accelerates the second stage enough to lift it as high as 550 to 600 kilometers, depending on the orbit needed. If a lower orbit is needed, the second stage can always aerobrake back down. Then the first stage drops straight back to the launch facility and lands with its own rocket engines, greatly simplifying first stage recovery. The second stage has enough fuel to accelerate from zero horizontal velocity to the delta-vee for a low orbit, 7.8 kilometers per second, but has to do no vertical lifting. It can return to the launch facility using a parawing, which should be safe enough for man-rating.”
“I knooooow,” said Will, exaggerating the word. Roger had been in a didactic mood this sol. “I’m intrigued that the Swift could refuel in low earth orbit and fly to the moon or even here, where it could serve us as a Mars shuttle. All the experience flying it to low Earth orbit will no doubt result in improvements, which will make our shuttle more reliable as well.”
“And cheaper, since the Swift will get a lot more hours of flight time and dollars of investment,” agreed Roger. “Maybe some day.”
Will’s attaché—a computer about the size of a clipboard, but a bit thicker—beeped nearby. That meant it had received an incoming message from Earth. He walked over and looked at its screen, which had flashed alive with a display. Dr. Harold Lassen, Director of Mars Mission Operations, had sent a videomail. Will grabbed his earpiece and put it in his right ear, pushed a few buttons on the screen to transfer the audio to it, and pushed play.
“Good afternoon, Will. I hope all is well with you and Ethel and the pregnancy is continuing smoothly. You have now been on Mars a respectable three and a half years. Your leadership in exploration and development of the Outpost has been consistently excellent in quality and usually quite far-sighted. Looking back over the record of Columbus 1 and Columbus 2, now drawing to a close, we can see that you have been a key player in many of the most important milestones in Mars exploration.
“Therefore, after considerable discussion and deliberation, we are making you Commander of Mars Operations, to commence with Columbus 2’s trans-Earth injection later tonight, and to continue until the arrival of Columbus 3 some nine months from now. I should add that Jerry McCord is the Commander of Columbus 3, as you already know, but we have decided to use the ‘Columbus’ designation henceforth only to refer to the flight phase. Once the Columbus vehicles arrive in Mars orbit, they are subject to the Commander of Mars Operations. We have not yet decided who will be that Commander, starting next May. It could be you, Jerry, or someone else.
“Congratulations on this appointment. We look forward to see the results. Good bye.”
Will watched Lassen’s face fade from the screen, surprised. Perhaps ‘shocked’ was not too strong of a description of his feelings. Roger Anderson had been designated Commander of Mars Surface Operations by Sebastian Langlais, overall Commander of Columbus 2, with Mission Control’s blessing. He had expected Roger to continue as their leader, especially since Ethel’s unexpected and accidental pregnancy had cast a pall over him.
He rose and left the habitat quietly, attaché dangling from his belt. He headed for the industrial area, where Ethel was hard at work making iron beams. At the moment she had the metal separating and fabricating unit open and was cleaning the fractionation column, where different metal carbonyls condensed at different levels. At the bottom of the column, nickel-iron meteor fragments were exposed to heated carbon monoxide, creating a metal gas that could be converted back to a solid inside a mold. Several iron beams cast from liquid iron carbonyl, periodically punctuated by holes for rivets or bolts, lay on the floor, the product of yestersol’s labor.
“Ethel,” he said. “I just got this message from Lassen.”
“What is it?”
“He’s appointing me Commander until Columbus 3 arrives, and maybe after that date as well. Here, watch.” He put down his attaché and played the video message again, with the sound coming out the speakers. Ethel listened, surprised.
“I thought Roger would get the position. You and I are tainted, after all. Well, congratulations, dear!” she kissed him.
“Thank you.”
“You should tell everyone; send a quick email to the list.”
“I will. Usually Lassen waits about two hours, then releases the information to the public. I need to thank him, as well. The Public Information Office may want to schedule a press conference, too.”
“I suppose I’m prejudiced, but it’s about time you were made Commander.” She kissed him again. “Now I had better get back to work.”
“Okay.” He kissed her in return and headed back to Habitat 2. He glanced at the television screen; the Swift Shuttle was still counting down. He continued to his apartment, where he emailed Dr. Lassen a thank you and sent a brief notice to the listserver of all crewmembers on Mars.
Commander! He was excited and more than a little gratified by the promotion. He had been de facto commander two years ago, during the interval after Columbus 1’s departure and before Columbus 2’s arrival. But the Outpost had only had three people in it at the time; now it had nine, far more than anyone would have imagined it would have. He and Ethel had worked steadfastly on creating an atmosphere of friendship and collegiality, bringing the eleven people of the Columbus 2 mission together, and they had served as role models that prompted one marriage and might yet prompt a second. He had also led the effort to build their first pressurized building from Martian materials and had suggested a new approach to exploration that had resulted in far longer expeditions than had been planned. And in return, initially he, Ethel, and Shinji had been practically stripped of any authority and responsibility, since the eight arriving from Earth already had been given all responsibilities for running the place. It had been a difficult eighteen months, especially the first six.
But now he was in charge. He left the apartment and walked through Greenhouse 1, past the entrance to Habitat 2, through Greenhouse 3, enjoying the luxuriant growth of vegetables, wheat, rice, corn, and fruit trees, with fine views through the transparent plastic of the Aurorae Valley and its steep 1.5-kilometer escarpment to the north. After three and a half years, their greenhouses were now well established and able to grow almost all the food they needed, though the resulting diet was monotonous.
From Greenhouse 3 he followed a short, plastic pedestrian tunnel to the Mars Life Sciences Facility. The tunnel had become a greenhouse annex, with a series of pots half-occupying the floor space and growing herbs, trees, and flowers. He crossed the life science facility, which was designed to study any Martian life they ever found, but currently was being used to study Martian microfossils instead. Then he walked past Ethel again, for she was in the industrial facility that provided the Life Science Facility with its second connection with the rest of the Outpost; everything had two exits for safety. Finally, Will walked through Greenhouse 4 and then 2, returning to Habitat 1. The far southern end of Greenhouse 4 connected to a suit donning facility, and out its windows Will could look southward across a rolling stony plain, interrupted only by cleared circular launch and landing areas for the Mars shuttles. He also could look to the right—west—and see a tall sandstone butte nearby with a craggy outline at top that vaguely resembled a face in profile; aptly enough, it was called Face Rock.
Having made a quick tour of his realm, he returned to Habitat 2. The Swift Shuttle had reached the end of its countdown. Its powerful methane and oxygen first stage engines flamed alive and the vehicle rose rapidly into the sky on an orange-tinged blue flame, accompanied by smoke and a mighty belly-shaking roar that was captured by their big screen’s speakers. As always, a launch was an awe-inspiring sight and it reminded Will of his dozen flights from Kennedy to low Earth orbit.
Will turned back to his attaché because it had beeped; another videomail had arrived from Earth. It was from Heather Kimball, an old friend of his and fellow lunar explorer—the first woman to walk on the moon—who was the new head of the Mars Exploration Society.
“Good sol, Will. ‘Good sol’ is so much easier than good morning or good afternoon; I don’t have to look up the time at the Outpost to use it. By the way, the Mars Exploration Society is now answering its phones with ‘good sol’; it’s a nice touch.
“I was watching the countdown of the Swift shuttle launch when across the bottom of my screen rolled the announcement that you had been selected to be interim Commander of Mars Operations, with Jerome McCord as Commander of Columbus 3 until it reaches Mars orbit. I thought I should videomail you right away and be the first to congratulate you. I can’t tell you how happy I am; I hope it becomes permanent. The only way the MES will be effective is if it can establish strong relations with the space agencies around the world responsible for exploring the Red Planet, and I think a good relationship with the explorers themselves is important as well. We have a long friendship and I hope we’ll be able to collaborate in many ways to foster common goals.
“I’ve heard rumors for weeks that you might be interim commander. I gather, from my sources, that some people have favored McCord all along; he has commanded Shackleton for several six-month tours of duty, he’s fifty years old, and this trip is the cap of his career. He’s been the Mars capcom on many occasions and works very well with people, too. Others have favored you. So it sounds like this arrangement is a compromise between the two parties. In a sense, it’s also a defeat for the McCord supporters; he was commander of Columbus 3, after all, and that designation had referred to the entire thirty-month period.
“Anyway, I doubt you’re very familiar with the internal discussions. Anything anyone says to you has to be in written or recorded form, and people don’t want to be frank under those circumstances. You need a confidential set of ears in Mission Control, I think.
“Best wishes with your new responsibilities. Let’s find ways to collaborate. Bye.”
Will thought about the message and wondered what would happen if he collaborated with the MES. It was the sort of action that would greatly concern and worry Mission Control. Certainly, it was not a wise move as commander for the next nine months. He hit reply and spoke his reply softly.
“Good sol, Heather. Thanks for your call and congratulations. I really appreciate both. We need to think carefully about ways we can collaborate that will be appreciated and supported by Mission Control. You and Lassen are good friends; perhaps the two of you should brainstorm about things the two of us could do. This is not a good time for me to rock the boat, if your comments are any guide. Let me know if you have some specific ideas. Bye.”
He sent the message and turned to the television screen. The Swift shuttle’s first stage’s main engines had gone out and only verniers were thrusting, to help gain altitude. Then at sixty kilometers altitude they went out and the stages separated. The second stage fired its thrusters slightly, pulled ahead of the first stage, turned ninety degrees, and fired its main engines.
“Perfect firing,” said Roger. Then he added, “was that Heather Kimball you were talking to? How’s she doing?”
“Pretty well, I guess.”
“What was she calling you about?”
“She was congratulating me. I got a call from Lassen, too, and since then he has released the news. As of trans-Mars injection tonight, I’m Commander of Mars Operations.”
“Oh?” Roger was startled; he was currently commander, after all. “It would have been nice if they had told me, too!”
“Maybe they did; check your attaché. I got the message a few minutes before blastoff.”
“Oh; that recently. Well, congratulations.” He offered his hand. “It’ll be an interesting nine months; eight full time personnel, a pregnant lady, and a baby before the end!”
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That evening, the Columbus 2 complex in orbit around Mars separated into its separate vehicles. There were two Interplanetary Transit Vehicles or ITVs, the Ausonia and Solis, each shaped like a long capsule, six meters across on the bottom and thirteen meters long; each could hold four crewmembers comfortably, recycling their wastes for up to a year. Since only two members of Columbus 2 were flying back to Earth, they were both in one ITV; the other was empty. A third ITV was also present, the Syrtis, but it was staying in orbit around Mars.
There were also three shuttles present; the Olympus, docked to the Ausonia; the Hadriaca, docked to the Solis; and the Elysium, which had Paul Renfrew, Carmen Segovia, and Érico Lopes in it. They had arrived from Deimos just a sol earlier and had transferred a hundred kilos of samples to the Olympus.
At just the right moment, when the vehicles were skimming the edge of the Martian atmosphere, the two shuttles with ITVs attached lit up their engines for two and a half minutes. When their engines shut down, the shuttles and their ITVs were on their way to Earth.
The entire crew exchanged goodbyes by video.
“See you all on Earth at some time in the future,” exclaimed Sebastian. “I’ll follow the development of Mars closely and hope to collaborate with all of you. And congratulations to Commander Elliott for his new position.”
“Thank you, Commander Langlais,” replied Will. “We’ll miss you here. Have a safe journey back to Earth.”