17
Accident
The Isidis Basin had been followed by the wide, rough, and ancient volcanic pile of Syrtis Major. The Circumnavigational—as Route 1 was called, now that it represented an actual circumnavigation of Mars—skirted the edge of Schroeter Crater, then rolled past dozens of ancient, battered rings as it headed toward Tikhonravov and Arabia, the half-way point back to the Outpost.
On the fourth morning of the return ride, Érico and Paul were in the lead again in a ranger pulling a portahab with a buggy in tow. Carmen was riding with Linda, as she often did in the mornings. The four vehicles and their accompanying two trucks with reactors and supply trailers were stretched out over quite a long section of the road, each one hundred meters from the other—so that the dust kicked up by one had cleared before the next one came along—the trucks falling gradually farther behind (they would catch up when the vehicles stopped for the night).
“Kilometers and kilometers of kilometers and kilometers,” said Paul, as he drove. “A vast wasteland.”
“And I wonder whether millions people will ever live here,” replied Érico.
“Who knows. It is land, and if you sink a well down half a kilometer you’ll hit water everywhere; and with electricity, the water is oxygen.”
“The problem is getting here, and that will be expensive for a century.” Érico was scanning his email. “There’s a new message from Will. As soon as we get back, Shinji and Eve will examine Madhu again. They may try to biopsy the spot in her lungs. The chance they can determine what the spot is is small, but the tissue can always be frozen and shipped back to Earth if Madhu stays.”
“And if it’s cancerous, she can go back?”
“She doesn’t want to. It’ll take her at least four weeks to recover from even a minor operation enough to be able to fly. If she agrees to go back, blastoff may have to be delayed.”
“It can’t be delayed much, though. The ITVs can’t fly more than nine months.”
“I feel terribly for Madhu. I can’t imagine a more difficult situation to be in.”
Paul nodded. “This is not an easy place to live in, and the problem isn’t just the lack of malls.”
“That’s for sure. The only reason to stay, really, is the people and the friendship.”
“I agree. Monika and I have been talking about whether we should postpone the wedding.”
Érico frowned. “Why? I wouldn’t. All of us will need a happy occasion. Besides, you should get married before Columbus 3 leaves.”
“Yes, I think everyone would agree on that.”
“I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Paul stopped the ranger; no one was supposed to travel between the ranger and the portahab while they were moving, though sometimes they did it anyway. Érico upstrapped his safety belt, passed through the plastic tunnel, and walked to the back of the portahab. He entered the bathroom as Paul began to drive them forward again.
He did his business and was about to flush when he was suddenly thrown against the wall. The ranger, moving at forty kilometers per hour, had collided with something. Immediately the depressurization alarm went off in the main cabin.
“What the hell—” Erico stood up, smarting from the bump, and hurried out of the bathroom. His ears weren’t popping, so the air pressure was stable, but he could hear a hiss indicating both a leak and that the life support system was compensating. He hurried forward to the tunnel to the cab; it was a possible escape route, and Paul was already there.
The red light over the hatch was on; the tunnel had at least partially depressurized. He glanced through the windows into the cab and saw that it was full of airbags. Paul was buried in them. He could see a red emergency light flashing in the cab; it was undergoing decompression as well.
“Ranger 1, come in! Ranger 1, come in!” He suddenly became aware of the urgent calls on the radio. The ranger had put itself into an emergency mode, which meant that all communications were routed over the intercom in it and in the attached portahab. Érico felt for his earpiece; it was intact, which meant his heat rate and the oxygen level of his blood was being broadcast to the Outpost’s central computer. So was Paul’s, if his earpiece was in place.
There was a computer console built into the front wall with a folding keyboard. He folded down the keyboard and pushed a few keys to open a general communications line. “Érico here. I’m in the portahab, but Paul’s still in the driver’s seat.”
“What happened!” It was Jerry’s voice.
“I don’t know; I was in the bathroom when the ranger hit something. You guys can see more than me.” He pushed buttons as he talked to pull up the emergency systems.
“Paul’s heartbeat is slow and dropping,” warned Will. Alarms had rung in the Outpost; the Commander was involved by radio as well.
“We’re backing up against the driver’s airlock right now,” replied Lal. “Shinji’s getting his helmet on.”
“I’d better get mine on, too,” said Érico. His helmet actually was in the cab, but there were others in the cabin. He had not donned a helmet immediately because the pressure in the portahab was stable. He grabbed one and put it on, then put on some pressure gloves.
A moment later Érico heard a faint clank as the conestoga’s docking tunnel contacted the hatch. He looked through the window into the cab. He could hear a series of clanks as the latches fell into place, then the sound of metal under strain; the short tunnel was inflating. Shinji crawled into it, in his suit, and closed the hatch behind him, then Lal ordered an emergency deflation of the tunnel.
Érico could see the rest through the windows into the cabin. Suddenly, the driver’s side hatch opened and Shinji could be seen pushing air bags out of the way and clawing at Paul’s safety harness. Érico could see that Shinji had his suit on, complete with helmet and gloves, but no backpack. He hadn’t had time to put on life support; but the suit would keep him alive for five minutes, enough to effect the rescue.
The safety harness opened and he grabbed Paul, whose face was white. He pulled him into the tunnel. The hatch closed and Lal began an emergency air flood.
In less than a minute Shinji had Paul inside the other portahab. He wasn’t breathing and he was puffy and distended from vaporization of internal fluids, though that was shrinking fast. Shinji put him down and Lal began to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation immediately. Meanwhile, a conestoga had arrived and was backing up against the rear hatch of Érico’s portahab, to get him out of harm’s way.
“What’s happening?” asked Will. His voice echoed over the loudspeaker in all the vehicles. Lal walked to a microphone on the dashboard.
“Shinji’s giving Paul mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and heart massage.”
“It doesn’t seem to be working, according to the data from his ear piece. Érico, what happened?”
Érico was still in a different vehicle, but it didn’t matter; everyone could hear everything. “Commander, I have no idea. I was in the bathroom. I don’t even know what we hit. The portahab has an air leak, too, though a small one. I went forward to escape the air leak by entering the cab, but it was already depressurized.”
Will said nothing for a second. “Thank God you’re alright. Catch your breath.” Will turned because someone entered his office. It was Ethel with Marshall. “Go get Monika immediately.”
Ethel hesitated, but the tone of his voice communicated urgency. “Okay.” She saw a video image of a ranger bashed into a boulder on the edge of the trail. She turned and hurried out.
Will had eight computer screens in the bridge; usually six were monitoring Outpost functions. He had one of the other two on the functions of the damaged ranger and the other on Paul Renfrew’s vital functions, which were still flat. He called Roger and asked him to come help immediately. He switched a third screen over to the portahab. The physical damage was confined to a small area near the front passenger corner where the ranger had struck a boulder on the edge of the trail. It wasn’t clear why the cab had depressurized; Will suspected the impact had broken the pressure seals around the passenger side hatch. The front right wheel and motor appeared nonfunctional, but the other five wheels and motors were alright.
“This is not working,” said Shinji.
Will snapped back to the drama in the other vehicle. He looked at Paul’s vital functions. The oxygen level in his blood had come up because of the heart massage and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but there was no breathing, no heartbeat.
“How long has it been?” asked Eve. She was now tied into the conversation from the sick bay.
Will glanced at his computer screens. “The airbags went off four and a half minutes ago.”
“It’s still possible,” said Eve. “You need to shock his heart.”
“The defibrulators are in the conestogas,” replied Érico.
“We’re docking to the portahab now,” exclaimed Carmen, who was driving the lead conestoga. “We’ve rescued Érico already.”
“The chances of it helping are pretty low,” Eve added.
The docking began and a minute later Érico was able to cross into the portahab with the defibrulator. Just then Monika rushed into the bridge. “What is it?”
Will looked at her. “Paul was driving the lead ranger and somehow lost control. The ranger hit a rock, the airbags deployed, and the cabin depressurized. Érico’s fine and Shinji went into the cab to get Paul, but he’s not breathing.”
Monika looked shocked. “Oh my God.”
Will pointed her to a chair next to him. Ethel arrived just in time to hear the last part of Will’s explanation. She came in and sat as well, next to Monika, and put her hand on Monika’s shoulder.
Then Roger hurried in. The tiny bridge had three seats; they were full. Ethel had to get up and grab a seat from the room outside and sit behind Monika; Roger sat in front of the consoles and helped monitor everything. “What’s going back to Earth?”
“All the telemetry and audio,” replied Will. “Get the video from all the vehicle interiors on line to Earth as well.”
“Clear!” exclaimed Shinji. There was a buzz over the radio and the screen with vital functions went crazy for a moment. No heartbeat.
“Please, Paul,” said Monika, crying.
Shinji tried two more times; no heartbeat. “We’re too late,” he said. “I’m sorry. We’re too late.”
“I’m afraid so,” concurred Eve, over the radio. Her voice broke as she said it.
The oxygen level in Paul’s blood began to slide downward; Shinji had stopped his efforts. Monika broke down and cried. Will turned and embraced her, and began to cry as well. Everyone began to cry.
“We had better secure the vehicle,” exclaimed Jerry, a minute later. “Get everything out that we need and replace the smashed wheel. It should be able to limp back to the Outpost.”
Will pulled himself together. “Photograph everything thoroughly for the later investigation, then resume the drive back here. We can’t leave Paul there in the middle of nowhere.”
“Should we stop and inspect everything?” asked Rick Page, who was in the other conestoga.
“Affirmative, Rick. Take a look at the disabled ranger thoroughly. But they have 40,000 kilometers of driving experience here and even more on the moon. What are the chances of a design flaw?”
“Pretty small, but we had better do a little looking,” said Rick.
----------------------------
The expedition spent most of the rest of the sol at the accident site investigating. No one was sure why Paul had lost control over the ranger enough to strike a boulder which was located five centimeters beyond the road’s edge. It was one of the rare, close boulders that the road usually avoided. The road was a bit narrower than usual at the point of collision; 4.0 meters, which was the official minimum. But no one had ever drifted off the cleared dirt track before, let alone at the very spot where there was a rock. The steering system, tests soon showed, worked fine. Possibly the ranger’s suspension was old enough to bounce the vehicle around when it hit a small rock in the trail—there was one—but no one was sure the bouncing would be enough to lose control.
So they put Paul into his pressure suit, tied him to the roof where he would stay cold, and headed for the Outpost. Everyone there remained in a kind of suspended animation, waiting for the expedition to arrive, somehow hoping the data was unreal, all the while preparing a tomb for their fallen comrade. It was a long, eight-sol wait. When the expedition got home two hours after sunset on July 27, 2026, many were greatly relieved.
“Welcome home,” said Carmen to Érico, almost in a whisper. They embraced and she began to sob. He kissed her, then held her fiercely tight, as if it would make up for the several months of separation and weld them into one.
“Welcome Shinji,” exclaimed Will. The two men hugged as well; old friends, they now had yet another common experience binding them together.
“Thank you; it’s been quite something.” Will nodded, then turned to Lal. Shinji headed into the habitat where Eve greeted him warmly as well. Lal extended a hand to Will. “My, it’s good to be home, Commander.”
“I can imagine. Welcome home, my friend.” Will actually did not know Lal that well; the Indian had spent almost a year of the last seventeen months exploring the planet. He and Jerry had equaled Érico in their hours outside.
“You’re very kind, Will.”
“Kindness and love are the traits that make Mars worth living on, and that hasn’t changed.”
Lal nodded and smiled, then moved into the habitat. Will walked over to another airlock that was opening at that moment. Jerry McCord stepped into the pressure suit donning area. Will extended his hand. “Welcome back, Commander of the first expedition to circle the planet Mars by wheeled vehicle. Your name will go down in history.”
“Thank you, but I’m afraid so will this incident,” replied Jerry. He and Will shook hands, but Jerry’s warm smile was accompanied by a rock-hard grip.
“Twenty-one thousand kilometers,” said Will.
“No, twenty-three thousand, eight hundred eighty point six; I just checked the odometer. The road wasn’t straight, after all. We’ve got months of repair work on the rangers and conestogas. They all have at least one flaky fuel cell and one bad motor; one has two bad cells and another has two bad motors. The tires have taken an incredible beating, too.”
“Our first construction priority now has to be a garage. Ranger 2 will require extensive repairs and they are best done in a pressurized space.”
“At least we didn’t have to abandon it a quarter of a planet away. It should roll in by dawn tomorrow. Well, I want to get to my room, take a shower, and call my wife.”
“Don’t forget supper in an hour. We made a big meal.”
“I know. If I were you all, I would have hesitated to do it.”
“Why?”
“It feels like a celebration. And there’s always the danger that we’ll have a big, pleasant meal ready and another disaster will strike.”
“That’s the chance we have to take, Jerry. The big meal can always be put in a refrigerator if eating isn’t appropriate. But this won’t be a celebration; it’ll be a chance to reestablish the bonds this disaster has damaged.”
“Some of them, at least.” Jerry glanced at the habitat door, Monika had appeared.
All of the arrivals went to her right away, hugging her, even kissing her, giving their condolences. No one dared to mention the wedding that would have happened three sols later, though it was on everyone’s mind. She was gracious and nodded in thanks, though she said very little.
“When can we bring Paul inside?” she asked.
“Where can he rest?” asked Jerry, delicately.
“We’ve made a place for him in the Mars life facility that’s pressurized but unheated,” she replied, her voice hardly quavering at all.
“Tomorrow morning, with some ceremony,” replied Will. She nodded.
Everyone helped haul suitcases and other personal effects into the habitats. Gradually everyone gathered in the great room of the new building for a 10 p.m. supper. Even the two babies were there, though they were asleep against the wall, judiciously close to an airlock.
The meal was very good but intentionally simple; a delicious soup, home made bread just from the oven that afternoon, mint tea, and strawberry pie. They all sat at a long table together, but once everyone had expressed their support for Madhu, conversations were subdued.
“I wish I could have done more,” Shinji said to Will over tea. “If we had only gotten to Paul faster; if we had the defibrulator ready; if we had gotten the adrenaline into his heart faster; things could have been different.”
“My friend, you did your best. You didn’t know what the situation was, you didn’t know what shape Paul was in. When you went into the cab his heart was still beating a bit. Who know why the machinery of his body failed at that point.”
“And an autopsy doesn’t seem called for.”
“No. Look, you need to help encourage Monika; she’s afraid he was distracted by thinking of her and the wedding.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. The circumstances do suggest some sort of lapse of attention, too.”
“They do. He was rested, he’d had some coffee two hours earlier, the driving conditions were not extreme—they weren’t optimal, but within limits—and the ranger did not fail mechanically. Their speed was not unreasonable, either.”
“No, speed was alright. I was driving right behind them, as you know. We can’t drive too fast because the auto-driving buggies would fall behind, and we’d have to wait for them to catch up and refuel us. There was that rock in the road.”
“Yes, and it was a factor, but it shouldn’t have pushed the ranger fifteen centimeters to the right. If he had been driving more in the middle of the trail, he would have been fine and we’d all be celebrating a successful trip right now. This was a freak accident.”
“I agree. It’s ironic; our machines can fail us in hundreds of ways and we’ll never avoid that danger. Yet a split second of inattention at the wrong time can be fatal.”
“It kills thousands on Earth’s roads every year, too.”
Shinji nodded. Will turned back to his strawberry dessert. Then his attaché, which was dangling from his belt, began to beep. Will raised it; an urgent video message from Harold Lassen. He rose and walked into the empty kitchen, then pressed “view.”
“Good evening, Will. I have some surprising and bad news for you and the crew up there. Paul Renfrew’s mother and sister have changed their minds. They want his body brought back to Earth so that he can be interred in the family plot outside Toronto. I suspect this will come as a terrible shock to all of you. It’ll deprive all of you of the closure that you badly need. But we have to respect the family’s wishes, as I am sure you know. I’m sorry to be the bearer of this bad news. Bye.”
Will stared at the wall, shocked. This was a major change of plans and would come as quite a shock. Thinking about it, tears came to his eyes. But crying would do little good. He had to come up with a solution, and quick. Thinking about the matter, he could see several things he could do. He headed back into the great room. He walked to the head of the table and began to bang his glass.
“My friends, I need your attention,” he said.
There was almost instant silence; people had been speaking in hushed tones, so anything he said was easy to hear. “My friends, I want to say a few words in honor of our fallen comrade, Paul Renfrew. We all knew him, so I won’t talk about his life right now. But I want to acknowledge his greatest of all sacrifices for Mars exploration, a sacrifice we had all hoped would never have to be made by anyone. There really is nothing we can do that equals his sacrifice. But we can be sure he will never be forgotten by future generations of Martians.” He used a word he had never used before, and it sounded strange, coming from his mouth. What was a Martian, after all? Were Marshall and Sam ‘Martians’?
“The first thing we can and must do is that henceforth, this building, our first major construction on Mars, is named the Renfrew Memorial Building. What else can we do, after all, to honor him? And second, the facility on Phobos that we are gradually building up must be named Renfrew Station in his honor. Paul was in charge of it. The irony is that had he flown to Phobos in the spring—a flight canceled because of the uncertain safety of the shuttle and the uncertain need for the flight—it may very well be that his life course would have been different and this accident wouldn’t have happened.
“The third thing we will do is complete a small rock garden around his memorial at the base of Face Rock. Madhu and I have already talked about it, and she will design a park even if someone else has to complete the work.
“I had planned to announce all of these steps yestersol at the funeral. But I just received a call from Dr. Lassen that requires some changes in our plans. Paul’s mother and sister have asked that he come home.” Will paused and looked at everyone. There was surprise on many faces; anger on a few; sadness creased his own. “Paul’s tomb will be a memorial for him instead. Tomorrow we will take him to the tomb and lay him there, until the time comes to move him on board a shuttle. We will give him a proper sendoff on his journey to his true home.” Will’s voice broke as he said that, and tears came to his eyes again. He went back to his seat and Monika herself came to him to comfort him.
--------------------------
Will, Monika, Érico, Roger, and Jerry went outside at 7:30 a.m. to bring Paul inside. They placed him in a casket of polyethylene, white and shiny, closed it, carried it to the Great Room in Renfrew, put it in its place, and draped a Canadian flag—one of their two—over it.
Soon everyone began to arrive, dressed in their best for the funeral. Three cameras in the back of the room broadcast the scene back to Earth. A video made on Earth of his life was broadcast. They all rose and sang Amazing Grace together, and everyone seemed to join in even if it was unfamiliar to some of them. Roger read a verse from the New Testament, spoke of his friend’s faith—Paul was a quiet but devoted member of the United Church of Canada—and continued briefly about the promise of eternal life. Then Will stepped forward.
“We gather this sol to remember a friend who made the ultimate sacrifice. Paul’s death reminds us of several things. First, that exploration is dangerous and no amount of training will make it safe. There will always be risks, risks which all of us here have decided to take. But Mars will be explored; space will be explored; humanity will reach the stars. All of us strive to make a contribution to humanity’s ultimate purpose. Paul has made a great contribution through his love of people, his devotion to his country and his faith, and through his tireless and uncomplaining work here on Mars. He was central to the effort to build our first building here, was a force behind the first major expedition to the South Pole, and spent much of the last year on the road, helping to clear the Circumnavigational Trail. Few people—let alone few engineers—have contributed so much to geology and exobiology.
“But beyond his sacrifice for exploration, Paul’s passing reminds us that life is fragile. We all have a fixed time in this plane, and we know not when our end will come. It has become easy to become complacent about life; medicine has forced the forces of death into a temporary retreat. But those forces cannot be defeated. Their victory over our bodies is inevitable. The only way to defeat them at all lies in how we live. Paul understood this basic insight and lived life fully. He knew the power of kindness to others, the importance of fairness in his relationships, the need for truthfulness in everything he said, and the supreme value of supporting and helping others. Érico tells me that one of Paul’s last comments before the accident was that the main reason to stay on Mars was the people and the friendships we have been able to make here. We become genuine, happy, fulfilled human beings in relationship to others. All of us have tried to make this outpost a place of fellowship and friendship, a place where the human bonds are deep. For the sake of Paul and his memory, we have the opportunity now to honor him by working even harder to build a true community here. On that work we will build the foundation of the future Mars society, a society closer to the ideals of justice, equal opportunity, an engaged citizenry, world peace, and universal human rights than ever has been seen.”
He walked back to his seat, realizing that he had made yet another speech in favor of settling Mars. It had become the supreme goal of his life, one that could not be deterred by the death of one of his companions.
The time had come for anyone to speak about Paul. Jerry, Érico, Carmen, and Ethel rose to speak about their friend. They were followed by a minute of silence, when everyone contemplated their friend in their own way.
Then everyone headed for the two pressure suit donning facilities and suited up. Four of them—Will, Jerry, Érico, and Shinji—suited up and returned to the room to bear Paul to the tomb. They all formed a procession outside and with great ceremony brought Paul to the tomb, placed him in it, and shut the opening with a slab of sandstone. Then they all learned the difficulties of crying in a pressure suit.
They returned inside. Everyone had the rest of the sol free; Will had declared it a holiday. Carmen and Érico went back to their room, where Carmen sat and looked out the window for a long time. “I’ve been thinking,” she finally said. “You know, I just don’t feel. . . confident about this place any more.”
“Really?” replied Érico. “I think I know what you mean. The Outpost, Mars in general, no longer feels quite as friendly.”
“Exactly. The people haven’t changed; if anything, Will’s call for us to love each other more will make this place even nicer. But I can’t bring a child into this world. Not yet, anyway. Maybe I’ll feel more confident in a few months. It doesn’t seem fair to the child.”
“I agree.” Érico came over and sat with her, and they comforted each other.
Will and Ethel went back to their apartment as well. Marshall was still with Madhu, the only person not to go outside for the graveside ceremony. “Your words were beautiful; I hope everyone thinks about them,” said Ethel.
“We’ll see,” replied Will. “Life is never as predictable or as controllable as one thinks. Paul’s death has driven that point home for me. It makes me want to make this place even more redundant, with more pressurized spaces, more tunnels, more greenhouses, more supplies in storage.”
“The Outpost is not invulnerable,” she agreed. “Paul’s death makes me think about Marshall. I don’t know what he would do if he lost one of us, or both of us, God forbid.”
“Yes. . .well, that’s life, sometimes. Mars isn’t as safe a place to live as the United States or Europe, but it’s more safe than either of those places was in the nineteenth century.”
“Safer than a lot of places on Earth now.” Ethel looked at Will. “You know, Marshall needs a brother or sister. The bigger the family, the better for children when the future’s possibly uncertain.”
“Really?” Will considered. “I see your point. But remember, my dear: we’re both 39 years old.”
“I know. The biological clocks are ticking, but it isn’t too late. Marshall’s a year and a half old. It’s a good time to plan for another one.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“What about you?”
He thought. “It’ll be a lot of work.”
“You haven’t left the Outpost for more than two sols in the last two years.”
“Neither have you. There’s plenty to do here for another year or two.”
“Yes, for me, also. We’ll be pretty busy with children for the next four or five years. But it’ll be better, Will, for us as well as for Marshall.”
“I. . . think you’re right.” He nodded. “Alright. We can still think about this some more, though.”
“If we need to. My mind is made up.”
“Then it’s agreed,” he replied.
-----------------------------
They stayed in their apartment until a bit before lunch, when Ethel went to get Marshall. Will went to find Monika. She was in her room. “I just thought I should stop by to express my feelings of grief again,” he said to her. “And my determination to help in any way.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been crying much of the morning. “The funeral has helped bring closure, even if it isn’t Paul’s final rest. Your comments about him were really beautiful. I’ll cherish them.”
“I’m glad they helped.”
“Will, I’ve been thinking. You know, this place no longer feels the same to me. I. . . I can’t stay here. It isn’t just a matter of moving into another room. This entire place reminds me of Paul and that phase of my life. I’ve got to go back to Earth, Will.”
Will was startled. “Well. . . okay. There’s certainly room on Columbus 3. That’s not a problem. I understand, Monika. You’ve done some good work here, you’ve made a sterling contribution to this place. But you need closure, too.”
“My life has to move on, and I don’t know that it can here.”
Will nodded. “I understand. I’ll contact Houston this afternoon and make the arrangements.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “You’ve always been very kind to me. This has been a special place and I’ll always remember it.”
“And we’ll always remember you.” He looked at the door. “Shall we go to lunch?”
She nodded. They both walked into the great room in Renfrew where lunch was spread out and ready.
Ethel and Marshall were already there and she had him in his highchair, where he was happily eating vegetables and fish. Carmen and Érico had entered before Will. Carmen went over to Marshall, looking at the boy in a different way than before.
“He’s getting so big,” Carmen said to Ethel. “It’s really amazing.”
“Children are little miracles,” replied Ethel. “As you’ll see.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think we’ll wait. I’m feeling too insecure right now.”
Ethel was surprised. “Oh? I feel the same way, so Will and I plan to have another child.”
“Really?” said Carmen, a look of astonishment on her face. She could not comprehend Ethel’s comment; it made no sense. Ethel smiled and shrugged when she saw Carmen’s surprise.
Will got in the buffet line right behind Érico. “You know, we have to look over all the vehicles now,” he said. “They all have failed parts and reduced redundancy.”
Érico was surprised. “They all have at least four of their six fuel cells and motors functioning, and we can take to the South Pole the ones that have five of the six.”
Will shook his head. “There won’t be a South Pole expedition, Érico. I’m sorry. I wish there could be. We have to check out and repair the vehicles, and there are investigations that are still going on in Houston. By the time the repairs are done and the investigations are over, it’ll be too late this year. So it has to wait.”
“Will, there’s no danger to this expedition. It’ll take maybe two months, and most of that is exploration on the way back, as the sun retreats northward. We can make it to the pole before the autumnal equinox.”
“I’m sure it’s possible, and I agree the danger hasn’t changed. But Érico, as I said, there’s not going to be an expedition to the South Pole this time. Politics on Earth are the reason. There has to be a suspension of expeditions and a reevaluation.”
“There’s nothing you can do?”
Will shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay, Commander,” replied Érico, very sadly.