10
Nuke
The shuttle Alba blazed through its reentry into the upper atmosphere of Mars, then fell like a rock toward the surface. In Habitat 2’s bridge, Carmen Segovia sat at the controls, monitoring everything, watching the engines flame alive to burn off the last 1,500 kilometers per hour of velocity. The shuttle slowed to a stop a few meters above the surface, then settled in the middle of the bull’s eye with the slightest bounce.
“Great landing,” said Will. He was watching; Jerry was there as copilot. Carmen smiled. “We didn’t do anything; the computers are good.”
“Well, you guys were the backups. When do we have a clearance to approach?”
Both of them turned back to the consoles. The engines were shutting down; the pumps were off, the fuel valves closed. In a few minutes Carmen nodded. “Clearance granted.”
Will picked up his phone, called the rangers, and authorized them to head in. He hurried down to the airlocks as well and suited up to follow in a buggy, a small, four-wheeled, one-person vehicle about the size of an all-terrain vehicle. It was a half hour before he arrived; by then the cargo bay was open and airtight plastic containers were being pulled out, one by one, and being stacked on a trailer pulled by one of the rangers. He helped remove the containers filled with scientific equipment, food, medicines, computers, spare parts, and personal items. In the middle of the cargo was a truck—their first—with a one-tonne nuclear reactor, the RL-75, on an attached trailer.
Once the cargo containers were removed, Dr. Rosa Stroger immediately took over. She was their nuclear engineer and was an expert about all aspects of the reactor, including removing it from the cargo pallet. They disconnected all of the guy wires except two rear wires, which were on pulleys. Then they connected a tow cable to one of the rangers and slowly pulled the truck with its reactor down the ramp, while playing out the rear wires. Soon the truck stood on the Martian surface.
Rosa Stroger and Rick Page, her assistant for nuclear matters, moved in with a power pack; since the reactor had never been activated, it was unable to power the truck’s wheels. The power pack dropped into place and was quickly connected to the truck’s power systems. Then from Habitat 2, Carmen drove the truck remotely to a crescent-shaped enclosure built of sandbags: a radiation-shielded parking spot.
Rosa, Rick, and Will followed in ranger 2 at two kilometers per hour as the truck rolled down the road from the spaceport to the reactor pad east of the Outpost. Once it arrived, Carmen disconnected the trailer from the truck and drove the latter away. Rosa and Rick left the ranger and connected the reactor’s power cable to a power line that ran to three reactor pads from the Outpost. Then they headed to the Outpost; the reactor controls were set up in Habitat 2’s former repair room, next to the bridge that was used to control space vehicles.
“So, we’ll have power next week?” asked Will.
“If all goes as planned,” agreed Rosa. “And then the Apollonaris arrives with reactor 2, and we’ll set it up as well. Both reactors will be on partial power for a month, until we have everything fully checked out.”
“When will we be able to install the Stirling cycle engine?”
“We can give it a try in four weeks or so. The latest report from the reactor at Shackleton suggests a bit more output than originally projected.”
“Oh? I didn’t hear about that.”
“Sorry; I got it from the nuclear engineer there by email yestersol. He says the RL-75 there has been able to put out 800 kilowatts of heat rather than 750, and the Stirling there is putting out 140 kilowatts of electricity. Since we have a frigid atmosphere to provide more efficient cooling, I think we’ll get 150 kilowatts of power from each. The thermal-electric system, though, can put out only 75 kilowatts, and that’s what the reactor will put out on the road.”
“Can we attach the Stirling to the reactor and move it with a truck?” asked Will.
Rosa hesitated. “Eventually, I think so. We’ll have to see how bumpy the ride is and how robust the Stirling is. The expedition can always bring it along; it only weighs 200 kilos.”
“We have to see how well the truck’s robotic arms can install it, too,” said Rick. He smiled. “I was going to add that you’d never get the agency’s permission for that, but I won’t make any predictions any more!”
Will chuckled. “Neither will I. But ACV-106 is at Embarcadero with ten tonnes of rocks and seven tonnes of argon, and it’s ready to head for Earth.”
“I had my doubts Carmen and Jerry would get it all transferred,” said Rosa. “It wasn’t looking good for a while.”
“We had some tense moments,” agreed Will. The ACV’s cargo container had drifted free from one of Embarcadero’s docking ports while the arm was transferring the cargo of rocks; it had taken twenty-four hours to recapture the cargo and get it in the shuttle’s cargo bay.
“You must be pretty excited, Will,” exclaimed Rick. “Do you think you’ll get the expedition guidelines changed, also?”
“Probably. The export plan was approved by the White House over the heads of NASA, but they won’t approve safety changes. However, they’re working on borrowing the additional funding to hire the additional ground support. That should come through next week.”
“But no dome.”
“Not through NASA, but I haven’t given up, yet.”
Rick smiled, wondering about the twinkle in Will’s eye.
They backed the ranger slowly against an airlock, manipulated the mechanism remotely, and achieved a hard dock. They stooped to pass through and entered the Outpost, and Will’s step did have an extra spring in it. They had their first of two nukes; reliable, continuous power in a compact, mobile source that could power expeditions anywhere or run the Outpost. The nukes had been on the moon and had revolutionized exploration, which was now possible during the two-week nights. They had also permitted more reliable production of water and hydrogen-oxygen fuel. The disadvantage was their cost: some four hundred million dollars each.
Will stopped at their apartment in Habitat 1 first to check on Marshall. Eve was watching him that morning. Marshall saw his daddy, lifted his head, and smiled.
“Hey, my little one.” Will picked up the boy and hugged him, then kissed him.
“He’s doing fine. He’s really moving a lot, now.”
“Four months old; it’s normal, right?”
Eve nodded. “Yes, but it’s still a lot of fun to see.”
“True.” Will held Marshall for a few minutes, then handed him back to Eve. “You and Gaston can still make it?”
“It’s not like we have a lot of other invitations!”
“True. Eight o’clock.” Will headed out the door, down the steep stairs, and to his office, Habitat 1’s former repair area next to the stairs. He checked the status of the unloading, checked with Carmen about deactivation of the shuttle, then checked his videomail. Heather Kimball had called, as he hoped.
“Good sol, Will,” she began. “I had an excellent discussion with Sun Daiyu about the latest techniques for manufacturing very large structures of Kevlar, straight-chain polyethelene, and nomex. He thinks we can get a very reasonable estimate for a multilayer transparent dome. The French have a new anti-ultraviolet coating developed for space use, also, that will help protect the plastic’s integrity, though the coating has not been tested to one hundred below zero Centigrade. We’ve also begun calling potential donors. I think MES can contribute the dome, assuming we can get someone to fly it to Mars. Our European chapter also reports that they’ve made contact with the Director of Manned Spaceflight about reestablishing talks about setting up a Mars Commission. So good news is rolling in, right now. Enjoy it while you can. And congratulations on docking the rock container with the ACV, then deorbiting your first cargo shipment using an unmanned shuttle. It’s a historic moment at Aurorae this sol. Bye.”
Will quickly recorded an acknowledgement and thank you, then noticed that a message from Lassen had come in, which he listened to:
“Good sol, Will. I just wanted to send a message of congratulations to your entire crew for their successful landing of cargo pallet number 1. One down, two to go, eh? And congratulations on getting the cargo onto the ACV. The guys at ISS are trying to duplicate the problem now, but they’ve already promised a report and recommendations within twenty-four hours. I think we can avoid the mess next time; but that won’t mean another problem won’t crop up. Looking forward to the arrival of the cargo. Bye.”
He listened to the message again to savor the positive tone. The Mars team had made a few small compromises; the ACVs would be controlled by Mars until they were half way to Earth, at which point Houston would take over. That tied up one person on Mars a few hours a week. But Mars’s communications satellites were plenty adequate to communicate with the ACVs, and were cheaper to operate than Earth’s deep space network; furthermore, when the switchover occurred, the ACVs would be close enough to Earth for a cheaper, lower-power communications system to be used. If the experiment worked well enough, Mars might eventually contract for control services. They had already served as a relay for communications to the advanced satellite systems in the Jupiter, Venus, and Mercury systems when the sun blocked direct transmission from Earth.
Will had half a morning of work to do; he had messages from the International Space Station and Shackleton, an email from David Alaoui in Paris, two new reports to read—one of them the report Rosa had mentioned about the RL-75 reactors in use on the moon—and several news clippings about Mars that a volunteer sent him. The volunteer had proved very competent at sending him just the important articles and often sent a report about lesser publicity as well; it gave him a source of information independent of the Public Information Department. He went up and got Marshall so that Eve could do other things, watching his son and reading at the same time, recording messages once Marshall took his late morning nap.
That afternoon he helped with the unpacking; most plastic containers had to be opened in the suit donning area, then the items dispersed to storage areas in the basements of all four habitats. In spite of careful planning, there were always items in the wrong containers. No matter how well the inventory was set up and maintained—and they had a full time woman on Earth who just kept track of the inventory, looking at video to see who took what—they were always losing things temporarily.
As the sun was setting, Will dropped off his last load of items in the basement storage area of Habitat 4 and detoured into Greenhouse 5. Lisa and Gaston were hard at work setting up plant trays. The entire eastern side of the hemispherical greenhouse was enclosed with a silvered insulating blanket, the inner surface reflecting the dying rays of sunlight onto the plants. It was quite a scene: a blazing red sun, a pink sky, a silvered reflector, and a greenhouse floor carpeted in the soft light green of baby plants.
“Wow, you’ve made a lot of progress in the last few sols.”
“It’s looking good, isn’t it?” said Lisa, pleased. She stopped to look around. “The plants are really pretty. I guess this greenhouse was set up much faster than Greenhouse 1.”
“Oh, of course. The six of us had less spare manpower, we didn’t have enough plant trays and had to make most of them from rocks and parachute material, and of course we had to make the soil. Columbus 3 arrived to plenty of readymade soil and plant trays.”
“We’ve benefited from your experience as well. I really enjoyed my three years providing ground support for the greenhouses.”
“And we’re grateful you came. I want our new people recruited as much as possible from the ground support people; they already have experience and training. People get up to speed faster.”
“I’m really thrilled with this opportunity,” said Lisa.
“When will we have the water purification plant up to speed?”
Lisa glanced at the large tank occupying one end of the greenhouse. “It’ll take another month. The bacterial ecosystem isn’t mature enough. And as you can see, we still don’t have the rice paddy set up. We’re starting on that tomorrow. It’ll take two or three months to get its ecosystem functioning well.”
“That’s what I thought. Well, when the expedition leaves next month, our drain on the outside water supply will decline substantially.”
“Before that, once the reactors are fired up, they’ll generate the heat to vapor purify the bath water,” noted Gaston.
“Actually, we have that already, we just don’t have the plastic piping to take the water to the heat or the heat to the water,” said Will. He looked west. The sun had just dropped before the horizon. The sky was glowing red, orange, pink, and a bit yellow in places. They all paused to enjoy the sunset; it only lasted a minute, then faded into a deep violet. Stars began to appear.
“We’d better close this place up,” said Lisa. They carefully walked to the connection to Habitat 4; except for a bit of sunset glow and the pale light of a one third full Phobos—too faint even to throw shadows—there wasn’t much light to navigate by. There, Lisa flipped a switch. The silvered insulation blanket covering the western side of the greenhouse rose along the wall until it reached the peak and stopped.
It was seven o’clock; time for supper. They all walked to Habitat 3 where almost everyone had gathered. Madhu had cooked tilapa, bread, a turkey vegetable soup, several vegetable dishes, and a vanilla cake. They all feasted.
“Pretty good, as usual,” Roger said to Will as they were putting their dirty dishes in the sink.
“Madhu’s a good cook.”
“Yes, and now that she doesn’t have to worry about the greenhouses as much, she’s much more content to focus on diet.” Roger rolled his eyes. “And babies,” he whispered.
“Is she pregnant?” replied Will, quietly.
“Not yet.”
Will walked back to his table. Ethel was ready to leave; Marshall was asleep in her arms. They headed to their apartment and tucked their baby into his bed, then set up for living room for their guests. At 8 p.m. Gaston and Eve Gilmartin knocked on their door.
“Come in! Bienvenue!” exclaimed Ethel.
“Thank you,” replied Eve. She entered; Gaston was right behind. They spoke to Ethel in French, then Will entered from the bedroom.
“Sorry; I was just checking Marshall. Good evening to both of you.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” replied Gaston. “Though I’m surprised you’re inviting people to your apartment.”
“Yes, this is not a big place,” agreed Will. “But we want to be able to get to know people more directly than just sitting around the same table with them in the Great Room. All the couples have their own living rooms, after all.”
“We don’t yet,” Eve corrected him “But it’ll be finished in a few weeks, of course, upstairs in Habitat 4.”
“And you even have windows!” added Ethel. “We don’t have that. Here, sit down.” She pointed to the “couch”; it was a homemade thing. She and Will sat in standard-issue plastic chairs.
The Gilmartins sat on the couch. “This is pretty comfortable,” said Eve.
“The cushions are foamed plastic—more like Styrofoam than foam rubber—but they have held up,” said Ethel. “They’re wrapped in parachute and covered by a tablecloth we imported from Earth. And the frame is welded iron. It was an experiment. Would you like one?”
“I think so!” said Eve.
“I’ll try to schedule it,” replied Ethel. “Now that I’m feeling better, I’m back to a reasonable work schedule.”
“And the prescription calls for a lower dose every two weeks,” added Eve. “I’m glad the medication has worked out. You should be able to resume breast feeding Marshall in a month or so, if you can.”
“I want to,” replied Ethel.
Will opened a plastic cooler near his chair. “Well, let me serve everyone. This is real ice cream.”
“Real ice cream? Where does that come from?” asked Gaston.
Will smiled. “As you may know, the Commander has always had a special mass allocation. In Columbus 1, it was split between Laura and Sergei, and Sergei used his half to bring vodka. In Columbus 2, Sebastian imported various wines and liquors and some other special things for the crew. Well, as you may know, I am a Bahá'í, so I didn’t want to haul booze here; in fact, I wish we could eliminate the stuff here for safety reasons. So I had the liquor allocation transferred to the food budget, and Madhu made decisions to import a little wine in the context of what she thought would be needed for cooking, special meals, etc. My mass allocation was reduced, and I used it for various special items that I won’t reveal at this time, but ice cream was one of them.” He lifted a pint that was half chocolate and half vanilla, and began to scoop it into bowls.
They were silent when they ate the ice cream. It was too rare of a luxury to speak. When they finished Ethel said “mint tea? It’s local and not imported.”
“I guess we should get used to it,” replied Gaston. “I gather we often run out of regular tea.”
“It ran out early, last year,” replied Ethel. “But mint tea really isn’t bad.” She poured them cups of the light green liquid.
“Will, Ethel, I am curious how long you plan to stay here?” asked Gaston. “It’s a hardship assignment, I think.”
“We’ll see,” replied Will. “So far, we’ve managed fine here. You adjust to the lack of tea, ice cream, and worse. There are no malls here, and mail order shopping is a slow affair, between speed of light ordering and interplanetary delivery. Marshall certainly can’t fly back to Earth for five years, and it isn’t clear he’ll be able to then, either.”
“They’re talking about the new SCN-25 nuclear thermal engine being in use by then,” said Gaston. “That’ll cut the transport time from six months to three, they say.”
“We’ll see,” said Will. “I’m skeptical that nuclear will help very much because of the cost. It may be that a special room wrapped in supplies and plastic can be built to reduce the radiation levels enough, and a child can be flown safely back to Earth. Space vehicles are still no place for children. I think we’ve shown that habitats are okay for them, but I’m not so sure about space vehicles.”
“What will you do when he starts to walk?” asked Eve.
“We’ll see,” replied Ethel. “The stairs are very steep, but we’ll install a low railing, and in the low gravity a child could lower himself by hand if he had to. I doubt we’ll want children to be opening and closing pressure doors until they’re at least seven or eight. But maybe that will change, too. We now have an outpost sixty meters long and forty wide; there’s a lot to explore here, for a small child.”
“It should work out, as long as Marshall doesn’t stick his finger in an electrical outlet,” agreed Gaston.
“What are your long-term plans?” asked Will. “We’d love to have you stay.”
“Maybe we will; who knows,” replied Eve. “We’ve signed up for two columbiads, just like the Strogers. We don’t have plans after that. Gaston can’t do much animal husbandry on the moon; they haven’t developed that side of their recycling as much as Mars has.”
“We could always go back to work at the Mars Environmental Support Facility in Seville,” he added. “Eve can do her space medicine from there as well. But Seville seems a bit of a vocational retrenchment after being here.”
“I know what you mean; but it’s a beautiful place. I loved Seville,” said Ethel.
“In four years, you’ll be able to see how well this place has been for Marshall and decide whether it’s a good place for a family, at least,” said Will. “I’m hoping to convince Pavel to stay two cycles instead of one, because he’s a genius where construction is concerned. He’d be hard to replace. With his leadership, we should be able to increase our pressurized space significantly, and that will make quite a difference where raising children is concerned.”
“But don’t you worry about Marshall’s health?” asked Gaston.
“All the time,” replied Ethel. “I suppose I’ve worried way too much! I worry about anything that seems out of normal, even though all children deviate from the norm from time to time. But we are just giving it a try and trusting it’ll work out, and we hope it will.”
“That’s all you can do,” said Eve. “At least the animal studies have been positive, and the problems that have been identified are solvable.”
“Especially if we can train him to wear clothes with weighted pockets, once he starts to walk,” agreed Ethel. “The weights seem to guarantee reasonably strong bones. But that means all the clothes imported from earth have to be modified, and we didn’t think of that when we ordered clothes for the next few years!”
“We’ll be putting him in clothes for older children,” said Will. “And sew pockets into the longer hems and wider girths.”
“I’ll be delighted to help; I’m good at sewing,” said Eve. “My mother taught me well.”
“Thank you. My grandmother tried, but I didn’t learn very much.”
Will sipped his tea. “I’ve enjoyed so much getting to know both of you. So maybe you can help me solve a puzzle. I heard complaints from someone on the flight out that the French weren’t socializing much with the rest of the crew. But I haven’t seen that here.”
Gaston was a bit surprised. His calm voice betrayed a bit of strain. “Perhaps that was Jerry’s opinion. You see, Patrice is a good friend of Karol because they’re both Slavic; Patrice is a Frenchman of Polish background, while Karol is Czech. Lisa and Karol are very close as well. All three of them would speak French together, rather than English; Patrice is not completely comfortable in English, and even if he were, there is no code saying he should speak English in his off-duty hours. And naturally Eve and I gravitated to the three of them, even though we are rather different in personality and. . . approach to life. So five of us were often speaking French. Pavel would join us as well, sometimes.”
“Ah,” said Will, nodding. “Now I see the picture. Jerry is a good man, but perhaps he could still learn how to accommodate different cultures and languages. I can imagine that would disturb him.”
“He’s not cosmopolitan,” agreed Eve, rather bluntly. “He would not have been a good commander for the entire Mars operation because he doesn’t understand diversity.”
“I’ll try not to disappoint you,” replied Will. “We also have a Spanish-speaking group here, and I often sit at their table.”
“I was surprised to see you speak Spanish,” said Gaston.
“Well, I had an Hispanic grandmother. I have the privilege of reflecting much of America’s ethnic diversity. My father was partly African American, partly American Indian—Cherokee—and partly European American. My mother’s mother was from Veracruz, Mexico and her father was part German and part Polish.”
“And you are a Bahá'í, which is a religion of diversity as well.”
“Yes, it stresses the oneness of humanity and consultation with everyone. I’ve tried to make those two values central to my coordination of this place.”
“And the Bahá'ís seem to stress the family as well,” added Ethel. “That’s emerging as a central aspect of this place as well.”
“Yes, it is,” said Will, startled by her insight. “Actually, that hadn’t really occurred to me.”
“Sure it has,” replied Ethel. “We’ve been pursuing an informal emphasis on marriage for some time, and now on family as well.”
“True, but maybe it hadn’t quite percolated to the top of my brain.”
“Stressing marriage and family is a surprising priority,” said Gaston, uncertain what he thought of the idea.
“I think it’s potentially valuable,” replied Eve. “The vast majority of people on earth are married and have families. If Mars is the same, it makes the place more human. Humanness may play as well in public relations as heroism.”
“Family, humanity, and heroism,” replied Will. “That’s a pretty powerful combination.” He rubbed his chin and thought about the idea.
-----------------------------
Will did not sleep well that night; Ethel’s comment, and Eve’s supportive remarks, had triggered a brainstorm. Mars needed to be settled, not just visited. That meant long-term commitments to stay, which implied marriages—of whatever sort—and children. The vast majority of human beings were geared to live that way by genetics and upbringing. And now all the keys for that process were in place: their food, water, and power supplies were stable; they had functioning housing; they had the ability to export to cover some costs; and they had started building their own enclosures, as the Geology Storage Facility—now renamed and serving as the Geology Facility—demonstrated; they had a critical mass of people, and especially of couples; and by accident or divine fiat, Mars had its first child, with a second one intentionally soon to be on the way.
Before the sun exploded above the eastern horizon Will was up. He threw on clothes and headed down the stairs to his office below. Deimos, full but so small to look star-like, blazed above the western horizon outside his window as he turned on his attaché. Houston was now two hours ahead of the Outpost, so Lassen would be in his office, starting his sol’s work. Will activated the videomail software and recorded a message.
“Good morning, Harold.” He intentionally avoided “good sol,” which Lassen usually didn’t use, and decided to try the director’s first name. “I want to bounce some ideas off of you. They are the sort of ideas that you probably will consider crazy. A year ago they definitely would have been crazy; two or three years ago they would have been unthinkable. But I want to try to formulate them for discussion.
“Mars needs more people if it is to become a successful and significant scientific project and exploration effort. This world has already told us a lot about the solar system from 4.5 to 3.8 billion years ago, including what the early Earth was like, what some of the prebiotic precursors of life were, and how life evolved there. It’s also teaching us significant lessons about climatic and atmospheric evolution, not to mention geochemistry, geophysics, volcanology, glaciology, meteoritics, asteroids, and how to live in new environments. Once we explore the polar areas and establish a temporary base there, we’ll be laying the foundations for human exploration of the outer solar system; Phobos and Deimos are opening up technologies for exploring the asteroid belt and near-earth asteroids; the interplanetary habs are teaching us how to establish a viable station in Venus orbit; and all of this, and the experience on the moon, with polar ice, is teaching us how to send humans to Mercury.
“All this underlines the importance of expanding the Mars facilities as much as is practical, and the importance of making it a long-term human community. Exploration of Jupiter and Saturn, even with advanced rocket technology, will involve three or four year missions, maybe longer. We have to learn how to create stable, diverse, international communities of professionals able to work together for years. Otherwise people will not be able to take advantage of the new technologies to explore.
“My question to you is, what are the implications of this insight? I think there are several. First, we should aim to increase the percentage of people coming here who plan to stay. Columbus 3 had five people out of fourteen who had committed to stay two cycles. My proposal is that we also request three-cycle commitments, and aim to increase the percentage of the crew pledging to stay either two or three cycles to fifty percent of the arriving crew. I see no reason to raise it to one hundred percent. People like Jerry McCord, or Sebastian Langlais, or David Alaoui, all have made very important contributions to this place, have earned the right to come here through their long and distinguished careers, and should come. But as I understand it, Columbus 4 will involve four ITVs and about eighteen personnel. If we flew nine long-term people and nine short-term people, we’d still be flying more short term folks here than Columbus 4 was ever planned to fly. After all, through Columbus 6, the original plan was to fly two ITVs each opposition, not three or four.
“Second, the long-term people who come here should have experience in the ground support facilities. We’re delighted to have Lisa and Gaston here, who both worked in Seville. Jerry was capcom. They arrive with their feet on the ground and ready to run; not much training is necessary. This is immensely valuable.
“Third, and in some ways more important, the long-term people should be married to someone else who is coming here as well. You know how high the divorce rate is among the astronauts. Columbus 1, 2, and 3 each produced one divorce because of a spouse remaining behind. When people who have just divorced come here it produces difficult social situations in the tight quarters we have. For that matter, the tight quarters produce all sorts of difficult situations among the single people here. Couples generally bring stability. I admit, a bloody divorce could be immensely complicated; but we now have enough habitats for people to stay apart and one former spouse or the other can be away on an expedition. So, in the balance, I would like to see us tailor selection policies that encourage long-term sojourns by couples. Think how capable this outpost will be if it had dozens of people with a decade of experience working here.
“Let me know what you think. Bye.”
He sent the message and looked out the window. The sun had popped up and Deimos had set. Early morning sunlight streamed across the stonescape.
He went back upstairs to brush his teeth, shave, and shower. Then he held Marshall and played with him while Ethel got ready. When they all headed downstairs for breakfast, Will looked in and saw that he’d received a message.
“I bet that’s Lassen.”
“We’ll see you in a few minutes at breakfast, then,” replied Ethel. “I hope it’s positive.”
“So do I.” Will entered his office and played the message.
Lassen’s face appeared on the screen. He looked pensive. “Good morning, and oh, good sol. As you said, your idea was unthinkable two or three years ago, and it is difficult now. But if you follow the trajectory, that implies the idea is acceptable in a year and natural a few years after that.
“And I suspect that will be the trajectory of this idea, at least eventually. Perhaps the timeframe will be closer to decades. I regard my role not as opposing the idea, but making sure it is practical. And it encounters one serious obstacle: every person on Mars requires housing, consumables, waste recycling, pressure suits, equipment, vehicles, electrical power, etc. Right now, each person living on Mars needs about a tonne and a half of housing, a tonne and a half of greenhouses and waste recycling, a tonne of consumables, and two tonnes of equipment; six tonnes, total. The initial crew was small and it needed one duplicate copy of everything, so we had to fly a lot extras there; subsequently the percentage of extras has been dropping and has allowed rapid expansion of the crew. But the percentage of Martian equipment that is surplus won’t drop much more.
“Consequently, the only way your proposed policy can be pursued is if Mars becomes much more self sufficient. If most of the Columbus 3 crew decides to stay, it will be impossible to fly eighteen people to Mars on Columbus 4. Your facilities are designed to accommodate a total of twenty-four adults, and you have twenty-three. The greenhouses will be able to feed eighteen comfortably once they are all set up. If you don’t build pressurized space, we’ll have to fly nine-tonne habitat shells there for every six new residents. I think use of the Swift shuttle is inevitable, and it will cause shipping costs to tumble. But the costs will still be staggering if the Outpost expands beyond thirty residents in two years. So we can start discussing policies like this and floating them to the public to see what the reaction is. But your team will have to work pretty hard to make it possible.”