12
Launch
Helmut was surprised to hear a bit of applause when he
entered the patio with his lunch. Greg and Anna were sitting together nearby
and their clapping was for him.
“Survivor of yet another crisis in
the air!” said Anna to him.
“Well this wasn’t a crash or
anything dramatic,” replied Helmut, with a smile. He put his tray on the table
and joined them. “The sunwing lost two of its silane engines; there was a lot
of dust in the air and the filters got clogged, so there was no CO2 supply. The
propellers kept going using solar electricity, and the flight took longer than
expected.”
“Your mom and dad must have been
worried,” said Greg.
“Mom was biting her nails and dad
was pretty unhappy; but what can you do?”
“How did you manage?” asked Greg.
“Oh, alright.” He changed the
subject instead. “So I hear you’re getting married!”
“Yes; December 15,” replied Anna.
She looked at Greg. “It’s a bit of realignment of our plans and priorities.”
“Not that drastic; it’s an adding
of priorities,” replied Greg.
“But you won’t be serving as priest
any more,” noted Helmut.
“That’s not so clear; the new pope
is relatively liberal. Of course, he was just elected a week ago, so it’s too
soon to know what he will do. He has to be careful about pleasing the more
liberal North Americans and Europeans; it’ll alienate the conservative Africans
and Asians. But there’s a proposal
establish a Diocese of Mars and move us from the Archdiocese of Houston. The
Diocese of Mars will be under the Vatican Directly and the Bishop will be in
Rome. That will allow some experimentation here.”
“Including a married priest?” asked
Helmut.
Greg nodded. “As an emergency
exception until someone else becomes available, yes. The church does have
married priests under some circumstances. Czechoslovakia under Communism had
married priests, and if a married Anglican priest converts to Catholicism he
can be Catholic priest without getting a divorce, and there are some uniate
churches—these are Eastern Orthodox churches that accept the Pope’s
authority—whose priests are married but are considered valid Catholic priests.
Personally, I would be just as happy retiring from the active priesthood, but
there was some folks here that want to keep me.”
“Yes, like Eammon. They wouldn’t
have anyone to baptize their children.”
“Their herd of kids! That’s not
really a problem, if you ask me.” Greg shrugged.
“So, John and Vanessa are getting
married, too,” exclaimed Anna. “She called me the other sol to tell me.”
“Yes, John asked her on Sunsol. It
may be the first wedding of a Maori and a Lakota.”
“They want to get married about a
month after us,” she added to Greg. “That’s four weddings since Columbus 7
arrived.”
“Not bad,” said Greg.
“Can I join you?” asked Suzanne van
de Velde, who had just come out of the buffet line with a tray.
“Sure, there’s plenty of room,”
said Anna.
“How are you, Helmut? And
congratulations on your new assignment!”
“I’m fine, Suzanne, and thank you.
I still can’t believe it.”
“You live a charmed life,” agreed
Greg. “Let’s hope it continues.”
“I hope so. Suzanne, how are you
doing?”
“Oh, fairly well. The shock has
worn off. I’m back to work, now. And we’re about to incorporate the Van de
Velde Migrant Grant Program. Silvio’s finishing up the last incorporation
paperwork.”
Helmut frowned. “What’s that?”
“It’s an organization that will pay
all or part of the cost of a migrant to Mars. We already have half a million
euros in pledges, and once the incorporation is finalized and we can announce
it, we’re sure to get a lot more. There’s a proposal to give the nonprofit a
special land grant; ten thousand square kilometers of terrain east and a bit
north of here in the chaoslands and drainage channels leading to Chryse. There
are mineral deposits, water, and we already have several roads cut through the
area. The land should be worth between thirty and one hundred million euros.”
“But how much is a ticket?” asked Helmut.
“Columbus 8 will cost thirty-five
million per passenger, but Columbus 9 may see it halve because of the new
annexes they’re adding to the interplanetary habitats,” she replied. “Our goal
is to pay for one migrant on Columbus 9.”
“That’s cool,” replied Helmut.
“What would the migrant do here?”
“The idea is for people to apply
who offer skills the Mars Commission or the private sector won’t pay for;
artists, writers, historians, small businessmen.”
“We’re hoping to convince the
Commission to contribute to this or similar funds regularly,” added Greg.
“Because Mars will soon get beyond the point where it’ll need just scientists,
engineers, miners and support personnel.”
“Governments can help, too,” added
Suzanne.
“I heard the Commission is flinging
open the door to more governments and organizations,” said Helmut. “Though I
hear they rejected a request of the Mormon Church to send part time
missionaries.”
“Correct,” said Greg. “They have
also rejected an offer by a large Islamic missionary organization. But they
will accept religious offers if they are backed by a request from an existing
Mars population and if the person contributes more than just religious
proselytization.”
“In the next ten years, this place
could grow a lot,” added Suzanne. “Once tickets fall below twenty million each,
one could easily see a small country deciding to pay for several people to
immigrate to Mars, just so that their citizens are part of the mix here. There
will be ongoing maintenance fees of two million dollars per year, but a twenty
million dollar endowment, invested in Martian land or mining company stocks,
would do the same thing.”
“So, maybe we’re at another turning
point,” said Helmut. “I may want to stay here after all! The European Space
Agency’s plans to explore Mercury are delayed, the Venus Orbital Station is
permanently frozen at four crew, and now it appears Mars will be doing regular
asteroid exploration.”
“It’s really miraculous to see the
growth,” agreed Greg. He saw Skip Carson walk across the patio and waved. Skip
headed for their table. “How are all of you? Helmut, congratulations.”
“Thanks. I’m not sure what else to
say.”
“‘Thank you’ works well. I may want
to buy the movie rights of your book, assuming you write one, of course. You
have a great story.”
“I’m living a charmed life.”
“You are! Be grateful.”
“How’s your movie?”
“We’ve actually started shooting.
Needless to say, this is a much smaller budget effort than anything I’ve made
since college. But it should be a good story. When I get back to Hollywood,
we’ll do some high-powered editing and add special effects.”
“So, you’re going back? asked
Helmut, surprised.
It was Skip’s turn to be surprised.
“Yes, of course. I’m here one columbiad only. I wasn’t planning to stay that
long, originally.” He looked around the table; the others had expressions on
their faces that indicated either surprise or some sort of embarrassment that
they were surprised. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a big supporter from Earth!”
“And we need them, too,” said Greg,
with a smile.
“If anything, too many people who
come here stay; we need more ex-Martians on Earth, spreading the good news,”
added Anna.
“And working in administration on
Earth; half the time they don’t understand what we want, even after Will
explains it,” noted Helmut. “It sounds, Skip, like your movie will be one I’ll
want to see about ten times.”
“I hope so; I hope everyone wants
to see it that much. The Commission gets a royalty for its support, after all.”
---------------------------------
Will wondered where Lisa Kok was. He glanced at Alexandra
Lescov; reading his mind, she shrugged. They could see that the message from
Douglas Morgan, head of the Mars Commission, and Louisa Turner, their
coordinator of public relations, was already arriving.
Then they could hear Lisa’s
footsteps outside Will’s office. The door opened and she hurried in. “Sorry;
Anna wouldn’t go back to class after lunch,” she said. “It took an extra half
hour. She’s been doing that, lately.”
“No harm; the message just started
to arrive,” replied Will, pointing to the screen on his wall.
“What’s this about? Bioarchive?”
He nodded. “And politics in
Washington.” Lisa groaned. He reached out and pushed a button on his attaché.
The screen flickered and “a video message from Commissioner Douglas Morgan”
flashed on it, then the screen cut in two to show Doug Morgan and Louisa
Turner. The latter was in her office in Colorado.
“Good day to you all,” began
Morgan. “It’s beginning to look like we’re going to have to mobilize some
lobbying in Washington. I’m not sure how much you’re following the election
down here. The votes’s just four days away and this sol three polls were
published. They all show the President getting about 36% of the vote, with
Harold Krieger getting 33% and John White receiving 31%. Of course, the margin
of error is 3%, so that means any of the three could be the next President!
More seriously, the electoral vote is totally split, possibly throwing the
election into the House of Representatives. The prospect of the Supreme Court
getting dragged in makes the whole situation even more uncertain, since the
court has three vacancies currently. The stock market has plunged this morning
over the uncertainty. At least one economic forecast is predicting a recession
if the election is not settled quickly. White has declared he’d pull the U.S.
out of the Mars Commission, among other things. All of this is affecting the
budget for fiscal 2035 and just this sol White attacked bioarchive as a massive
pork barrel project. There’s a group of conservative Republicans, the Prairie
Caucus, that has issued a press release calling for elimination of Bioarchive
from the budget; they’re basically White’s supporters in Congress. I’ll be
getting on the phone in a few minutes to call the caucus members about this.
Will, you know quite a few Senators on both sides of the aisle; or maybe it’s
now all three sides of the aisle, since this election has split the Republican
party in a most surprising way. I need your help. I wish we had a Democrat in
the Commission who can shore up support among them.”
Turner was startled by that
comment. “Doug, what about me? Do you think I’m a Republican or something? I
have a passport and speak French.”
Morgan looked a bit offended. “Hey,
I have a passport and speak some French, and I’m Republican!”
“Doug, you really don’t speak
French, believe me. I’ve heard your French. But seriously, I have excellent
contacts in Washington, and I’ve been yearning to do more lobbying for the
Commission. I’ve done that, too.”
“Louisa, you’re head of public
relations, and you can’t do everything.”
“I’m not trying to do everything,
but I can do this; my contacts are quite good. Have them give me talking points
and I’ll get on the phone.”
“Alright.” Morgan was reluctant. “I
want an update from Mars where bioarchive stands; we need that for the talking
points. Over to you, Will.” He turned to stuff on his desk; a second later a
still picture of him flashed onto the screen. Louisa turned to her morning
coffee and pushed a button; her screen switched to a still picture as well. They
were working and waiting for a reply from Mars.
Will looked at his colleagues. “We’ll give you a
detailed report in writing by email. I can devote several hours this afternoon
to calls. Alexandra, can you give us an update about the bioarchive
construction?”
“Sure. From our point of view up
here, the biggest accomplishment of bioarchive has already taken place: the
creation of the technology for manufacturing enclosures. The equipment cost a
half billion to design and make, and it has taken us a year to get all the
parts assembled and functioning. Columbus 8 is scheduled to fly up some new
parts, but they’re already paid for and mostly built on Earth. We’re hard at
work completing the first enclosure, a fifty-meter bubble called Columbia,
which will house our Pacific Northwest ecology. The kevlar primary net will be
completed in mid November; as you probably know, it consists of a hexagonally
woven structure. Each hexagonal primary cell is about a meter across. The
secondary net uses much finer kevlar threads and has ten centimeter cells. We
finished it in August. In December we’ll mate the two nets together and cover
then with their first two airtight membranes, one above the net and one below. Columbia’s
hole is already excavated and the foundation’s complete, so in January the
enclosure will be installed and inflated with argon and nitrogen at 0.02
atmospheres. Then we install layer after layer of plastic and glue the seams,
and with each layer the interior pressure can be increased. By mid February the
interior pressure will be enough for breathing and we’ll start installing the
steel framework to support the rooftop gardens. By June we’ll have the
enclosure and its two buildings completed. Subsequent biomes should be completed
at the rate of one per year. The next two are Dakota and Kauai.” She turned to
Lisa.
“Well, I’d dispute the comment that
Bioarchive’s main accomplishment is finished! Spoken like an engineer,
Alexandra. As an ecologist, the ecology will be Bioarchive’s accomplishment.
The Dakota ecology is functioning fine in two greenhouses here. After
considerable difficulty, the Alaskan ecology has stabilized. Once Columbia is
complete, it’ll have a real home in a corner of that enclosure. We’ve also put
together a partial temperate forest ecology and a partial prairie ecology from
species already here and Columbus 8 will bring many more species for them.
“At this point there are two
aspects of the Bioarchive research, and one should be easier to justify than
the other. The aspect that will be harder to justify is the relevance of
bioarchive to us. It will give the Outpost important reserves of air, water,
and soil, but those reserves have to be coordinated to produce synergy. That
involves a hundred million dollars per year of research by ecologists,
engineers, and computer programmers, mostly at universities all over the United
States. You have a list of contractors and their congressional representatives;
they’re the ones to call. Easier to justify is the ecological research being
done all over the U.S. to determine what species go into bioarchive; that’s ten
million a year for ten years for each of twenty-three ecologies. That research
is scheduled to be contracted over a fifteen year period. It contains a lot of
‘pork barrel’ spending, in my opinion. The number of ecologies being studied
keeps increasing and the length of study keeps growing. It isn’t clear all
those ecologies will ever find their way here; six are marine or lacustrine,
which would be immensely difficult to fly here! There’s now talk of studying
several river environments as well. The advantage from a political point of
view, however, is that it sends a lot of money in a lot of congressional
districts, and the money is for two causes popular with the public: the
environment and the space program.”
“I’m sure you’ve pulled out the
list of congressional representatives benefiting from local research spending,”
added Will. “The other angle worth pursuing involves genetic engineering.
Columbus 8 is bringing experimental strains of genetically modified seeds for
twenty-five food crops, and we anticipate a thirty to fifty percent increase in
our harvests. If we could get an agricultural experimentation facility up here
to use genetically modified seed, we could help verify the safety of the seeds,
and that would help the public accept them.”
“I’d throw in an implied threat
that if the U.S. doesn’t fund our bioarchive research, other nations will,”
added Lisa. “I’ve interested the Dutch government in a biome which would be
filled with a typical Dutch forest ecology. The Belgian government may fund
some of the research to study coordination of our ecologies and their
reservoirs of air and water. If the U.S. doesn’t fund this research, it’ll go
to overseas researchers instead.”
“Other points?” asked Will, looking
at Lisa and Alexandra. They both shook their heads. “Then back to you, Doug.”
He put the videophone in his office on “pause.”
“This is a potential mess,” said
Lisa. “Even if they don’t pull the plug on Bioarchive, I bet they’ll pull the
plug on research being done in certain districts for purely political reasons.
We could have a biome scheduled and half the species already here, then have no
money to get the other half.”
“That’s politics,” agreed Will.
“Let’s hope we can preserve funding for the whole project, though. Support has
always been soft.”
“At least we have the equipment
already,” said Alexandra. “That means we can move toward our goal of increasing
the total interior space to 125 square meters per person. All the computer
models suggest that recycling of wastes requires less equipment and
intervention at about that point; even less if we can get the interior space
above 150 square meters per person.”
“I’m more concerned about the
tragedy of this shortsightness,” said Lisa. “This isn’t just for us; it’s for
Earth! This is a whole new kind of quantitative, computerized ecological
research. Bioarchive will allow us to predict biological systems for the first
time; predict how many predator insects have to be added to a field to
eliminate a pest long term; model multiple cropping systems so that fields can
be planted with more than one crop at once, thereby yielding higher harvests;
and develop ecological management systems so that endangered species can be
saved on limited park lands. It has immense potential. Here on Mars we have to
create our entire environment and manage it. This has huge implications for
saving the Earth!”
“I know,” replied Will. “But Lisa,
this won’t be the first time valid scientific research has been stopped because
a powerful Congressman wanted a bridge built in his district. Bioarchive’s
budget has ballooned in the last year or so; it’s now three times its original
estimate. People are trying to ride a gravy train and load on as much of their
own ecological research as possible. But they may derail the gravy train for
everyone. We’ll have to see what we can save.”
----------------------------------------------
Many residents of Aurorae rose early Frisol morning to find
out about the election returns in the United States. As they began to arrive on
the patio at 6:30 a.m., it was midnight Tuesday night on the first Tuesday of
November. Skip was one of the early arrivals who stopped to stare at the big
screen as soon as he had grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin.
“So, what are the results?” he
asked the table full of early arrivals, which included Érico, Brian, Helmut,
Greg, and Anna.
“President Morrison got 40.5% of
the vote,” replied Anna. “White came in second, with 31%. Krieger got 28.5%.”
“Really?” said Skip, smiling. “So,
the middle faded and the ends of the political spectrum strengthened in the
last few days. What’s the electoral vote?”
“That’s the problem,” replied Greg.
“Morrison will probably get 244; there is still uncertainly about 20 of the
votes. White has 200 and Krieger, probably 114.”
“Now, how many are needed to win?”
asked Anna, puzzled.
“The total is 538, so you need
280,” replied Greg. “That means no one can win on the first ballot.”
“So, then what?” asked Anna.
“The election goes to the House of
Representatives,” replied Brian. “Where conservative Republicans dominate.” He
smiled, since that was his own politics. “And that means White will probably be
the next President.”
“But he ran as an independent, not
as a Republican,” replied Skip, alarmed.
“Regardless, he is a Republican;
and he is closer to the core strength of the party ideologically than Krieger,
who is too moderate for them.”
“But it would make no sense for
someone to be President of the United States and represent the ideological
extreme!” replied Skip.
“The extreme right, or the extreme
left?” replied Brian. “Morrison’s pretty extreme, too. His administration has
made new automobiles almost impossible to purchase and raised the price of
electricity because of environmental protection regulations, has pushed up
unemployment because of the much higher minimum wage, has endangered the
nation’s security, and has bungled efforts to curb terrorism.”
“The increase in terrorism inside
the U.S. has nothing to do with him; it’s your silly gun laws,” replied Érico.
“Besides, every country in the worlds is now dealing with school shootings,
drive by snipers, letter bombers, and all sorts of sick chaos.”
“That’s because of the decline of
moral standards,” replied Brian. “The United States needs leadership that will
protect its values.”
“Yeah, like White,” replied Skip
derisively. “He’ll outlaw abortions again; he has said so. He’d eliminate welfare
entirely and foster new gun ownership laws so people can ‘protect’ themselves.
And let’s not forget he has said he’d invade terrorist countries; we’ve seen
what that does, haven’t we? He will undermine the entire fragile system of
international order. And don’t forget he’s said he’d disband the Lunar and Mars
Commissions.”
“I can’t believe that the most
power nation in the world could be run by a bunch of hillbillies lacking
passports,” added Érico.
Brian was angered by that. “I
suggest you look and see how many Yale and Harvard educations these so-called
hillbillies have! If you don’t like White’s ideology, that’s just too bad,
because it will be the will of the American people that he be President. And
he’s what the country badly needs. I think he’s what the world needs, frankly.”
“They may have educations, but they
don’t have passports,” replied Skip. “They’re a bunch of people with no
experience of the rest of the world, and at a time when the world can no longer
be ignored or bullied around. If White gets elected, it’ll be a real disaster;
mark my words. God, I may stay here anyway, for all I know it’ll be impossible
to make decent Hollywood movies anymore.”
“I am worried about Mars,” said
Helmut, trying not to take a side in the argument. “White certainly is no
internationalist, and if there’s one thing all of us are, we’re
internationalists. It’s the only way we can survive together up here. But I’ve
seen enough of rural Texas to know the conservative people are good and decent.
So I’m not so worried.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Skip.
“But I doubt it.”
“Problems arise whenever
ideological extremists at either end of the spectrum get elected,” said Greg.
“That’s the sad thing about this election. As you said, Skip, the middle didn’t
hold. Americans have been getting more and more polarized for years, but the
middle held. Now we have to worry about a pendulum effect; the population gets
disillusioned with extreme conservatives and elects extreme liberals, then gets
disillusioned with them and swings back the other way.”
“That’s why the Supreme Court has
three vacancies,” added Helmut, shaking his head.
--------------------------------------
Launches are never routine. Helmut pondered the words
of a late NASA administrator as he looked at the countdown chronometer in the
passenger cabin of the Hadriaca, which was frozen momentarily at t-minus
one minute. Of course, the Mars shuttles had a perfect safety record—so
far—after thirty-three missions. Since it took less than half as much delta-v
to reach Mars orbit than Earth orbit from the worlds’ respective surfaces, and
far less fuel, and the heat shields had far less heating to deal with—even when
approaching Mars from the Earth—the Mars shuttle was a much simpler vehicle
than shuttles that hauled people and cargo to orbit from the Earth. On the
other hand, maintenance and repair had to be simpler because of Mars’s tiny
human population, and that produced some safety tradeoffs as well.
He wondered how many “launches” the
mission would count for. The Hadriaca and the Tharsis were
heading for low Mars orbit with thirty tonnes of gold and four tonnes of
equipment each. There they would dock with the Stickney, a Phobos-based Lifter,
refuel, and fly to Embarcadero Station, Mars’s interplanetary transportation
hub, which was in a high elliptical orbit around Mars. They would unload the
gold there, refuel again, and fire their engines again to head toward the inner
asteroid belt. The shuttles would dock together, nose to nose, and rotate to
produce artificial gravity en route. After almost three months they would fire
their engines again to place their vehicles back on a course that would cross
Mars orbit, following the orbit of Gradivus. Small maneuvers would allow them
to land on the asteroid and its moon to explore for a month. Then a final
firing a week before Mars flyby would change their course again so that the two
shuttles would encounter Mars’s atmosphere, allowing them to aerobrake back
into orbit. They’d be home in late February, two weeks before Columbus 7 was
scheduled to fly back to Earth.
“Is everyone ready?” asked Neal
Stroger, commander of the Gradivus mission, over the radio. He was up in the
cockpit.
“The shuttle’s ready for the final
launch sequence,” replied Ernesto Gomes, their pilot and systems expert, who
was in the cockpit with Neal.
“We can’t wait down here,” added
Charles Vickers, their asteroid expert, seated next to Helmut in the passenger
area.
“Any time,” added Hutan Hijazi,
geologist and engineer, who was the copilot of the Tharsis. It was
sitting on pad six about five kilometers away and was just beginning its launch
sequence.
“Light her up. We’ll be right
behind you,” added Zach Hersey, their expert on Prospectors and machinery. He
was the pilot of the Tharsis.
Helmut had nothing to add, but
everyone else had spoken. “Let’s go,” he finally added, feeling a bit uncertain
that his reply was adequate and slightly giddy at the prospect of flying back
into space so soon. He was indeed living a charmed life; assuming, of course,
the luck held and the shuttle didn’t explode.
“Hadriaca to Aurorae
control. We’re ready for launch,” exclaimed Neal.
“Acknowledged; we’re releasing you from the
automatic launch hold in three seconds. . . mark,” exclaimed Rostam Khan, who
was the capcon that sol. Helmut turned to the chronometer, which had resumed at
t-minus one minute.
“So, you’re ready?” Charles asked
Helmut.
He nodded. “I can’t wait. I can’t
believe I’m going to see another world.”
“Two other worlds, including
Gradivus’s moon. That pushes you to six and me to seven, since I’ve been to
both Phobos and Deimos.”
“In the next few years there will
be people who have visited ten or more,” noted Zach over the radio. “If this
mission works, at least.”
“Which it will,” replied Charles.
“If we had two more shuttles, Mars could explore asteroids almost constantly.”
“We’ll need more personnel for
that, too,” replied Hutan. They were all aware that in addition to a hundred
support personnel on Earth, the mission tied up the six of then and three on
Mars, which was a substantial fraction of the planet’s work force.
The countdown reached ten.
Helmut silently watched the numbers follow one another; no one spoke the
countdown aloud. Then the shuttle’s three engines rumbled alive and the Hadriaca,
after a moment on the ground, rose into the sky and headed for orbit.
© 2004 Robert H. Stockman