4

Power

The Patio at Yalta was again festooned with bright decorations. When Helmut and Clara entered, they were surprised to see the streamers and lights.

“For conjunction, maybe?” asked Helmut.

“I don’t know,” replied Clara. She searched the faces at the tables; it was 6 p.m. and a crowd was beginning to assemble. Then she spotted Vanessa and John Hunter at a long table. “Let’s ask them.”

Helmut nodded and they walked over. Vanessa was surprised when she saw them. “My goodness, everyone returns to Aurorae at once!”

“Yes, the Meridiani expedition is finally over,” said Helmut. “Two more months of construction past; but two outposts are now started and in pretty good shape.”

“Were you doing construction, too?” John ask Clara.

She nodded. “Yes, believe it or not. I wasn’t needed just to keep the records and assignments, so I ran the crane that lifted the wind turbines in place on two occasions, and I learned welding.”

“You never know when it might be useful,” added Helmut. “I can now weld, lay electrical wire, run a bulldozer, and do all sorts of miscellaneous things.” He looked at John. “You just got back this sol, too, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes, we were four months in southern Hellas. It’s winter there now; noticeably colder, short work days, and we even had a bit of snow when a cold front passed through!”

“What are the decorations for?” Clara asked.

“Conjunction,” replied Vanesa. “This year, everyone decided to celebrate it Mardi Gras style. Silvio’s has masks and costumes; better go buy something before they’re all gone.”

“And this is supposed to be Rio Janiero Mardi Gras, not New Orleans,” added Érico Lopes from his seat farther down the table.

“Érico’s Chair of the Planning Committee,” added Vanessa. “There will be a costume parade, children’s activities, a concert, a lot of food, and I guess drinking on the weekend.”

“How was the Hellas expedition?” asked Helmut.

“Go get your dinner and come back. I’ll be telling the story in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” agreed Helmut and Clara. They walked over to the cafeteria and got in line. When they returned to the table, two seats had been saved for them. Lal Shankaraman and family had joined the table as well; his daughter Aditi, now 4 ½, had Downs Syndrome and was mildly retarded. Shinji Nagatani, one of their physicians, was there with his wife, Michiko, and their six year old, Yuki.

“The story is so short, I could have repeated it by now,” said John, noting that the last members of his audience had now showed up. “We arrived and spent our first three weeks doing what everyone has to do nowadays: set up an oasis. It was nice to have a permanent inflated shelter, though; it gave us a lot more room. We set up a solar power array angled to maximize the winter sun and three wind turbines. This is a pretty windy time of the year, too, with the polar cap rapidly expanding to the south.

“Then we turned to drilling and exploration. We returned to the Ice Chimneys and did further research on the steam flow, temperature fluctuations, the growth and sublimation of the ice structures, the biota, etc. We flew samples back here weekly. The photosynthesizing organisms basically go dormant in the winter; too little light penetrates the ice chimneys. We’ll soon know whether there are any new species.”

“Two so far, unofficially,” added Vanessa.

“And of course there’s still no sign of native Martian organisms, though the feral terrestrial ones apparently have been here seventy million years! There’s a lifetime of research to do on them, and their importance is increasingly being recognized.

“We made a lot of trips around southwestern Hellas, visiting craters, dry arroyo networks, etc. We verified a big deposit of fossil ice that orbital radar had detected about twenty-six klicks southwest of the drill site. We found evidence of recent fluvial activity; some of the arroyos apparently were active during the Yaonis Estival twelve million years ago. Writing all that up will take us the next few months.

“The drill penetrated an average of ten meters a sol, and it broke down a few times, but we still managed to drill a kilometer before we had to leave. That’s better than we had hoped. We drilled into rock at 100 Centigrade at the 400 meter level and it was 200 Centigrade when we finally stopped drilling. The cuttings are back here for analysis; we were mostly penetrating sedimentary rock back almost to the formation of the Hellas Basin. We’ll have to drill all the way through next time we go up there. The rock’s pretty dry, the heat having baked the water out over the last hundred million years or so.”

“And the seismic data?” asked Érico.

“Still being analyzed by Toru using his supercomputer, but we took scores of measurements across the entire area. It looks to Toru like we’ve got a body of heated rock extending down fifty kilometers at least. It’s five kilometers long at the surface and three kilometers wide. The Ice Chimneys are along another vent located twenty kilometers away along the same fracture running circumferentially around the Hellas Basin.”

“That’s a lot of hot rock,” said Érico. “Can we extract thermal power from it?”

John nodded. “There are terrestrial organisms in the pores down a half kilometer, but they’re the same species at the Ice Chimneys, and they’re comparatively rare because the rock is so dry. If we drilled two thirty-centimeter shafts about two hundred meters apart and connected them together via cracks at the bottom using several powerful explosions, we could pump water down one shaft and get a steady flow of steam up the other. We’d need several robotic trucks to haul ice from the ice deposit, and we’d have to pump the condensed steam back down to recycle it. But we should be able to generate several tens of thousands of kilowatts of electricity.”

“Good!” Érico looked delighted. “Of course, it’ll be a lot of work; a construction team would have to work there a year or so to get the system functioning. We’ll have to build a lot of steam condensers and pipes here and haul them about eight thousand kilometers. But it’ll still be less work than a nuclear reactor.”

“That’s true,” agreed Lal. “John, what about the consequences to the biota at the Ice Chimneys?”

“We’ll have to study the matter more, but right now they appear to be located in a separate, more active, thermal vent, so I don’t think harvesting heat from one will effect the other.”

“I really worry about this plan for a reactor, too,” said Lal. “We’re doing fine with solar and wind power. Geothermal power might be useful as well. But nuclear seems to be more expensive than necessary.”

“I agree about nuclear,” said Érico. “But geothermal is looking increasingly important, Lal. We need a big source of power. Solar can do it with dozens of solar power units or hectares of arrays. We’d need hundreds of wind turbines. But fifty thousand kilowatts of geothermal electricity, beamed as microwaves to Phobos and then distributed anywhere it is needed on the surface, would be immensely valuable to us.”

“How much will the microwave distribution system cost, though?” asked Shinji.

“A multiply-redundant highly reliable system is three hundred million euros plus transportation and installation. But we’d need the system for reactor power as well, at least until we could make reactors for every major outpost.”

“I’d spend the three hundred million on solar and wind,” replied Lal. “It’d go a long way. It’s scandalous that we have sixty-five wind turbines in storage after completing them almost two years ago!”

“We do?” asked John.

“Yes, because they made 100 at once; it’s more efficient,” replied Lal. “But we still have set up only thirty-five of them.”

“We also spent four hundred million euros on the research and development to refine and shrink the solar cell manufacturing system the moon has. As a result, we imported a forty-tonne system, supplemented it with three hundred tonnes of stuff made here, and we can now manufacture a thousand square meters of 25% efficient solar panels per month. That’s about five hundred kilowatts of continuous power output we can create every year here. It’s plenty to meet our growing need for power, and it can be expanded easily.”

“The wind turbines can meet it, too,” said Lal. “Basically, every additional person here would need two wind turbines to meet his or her power needs. We can set up a hundred a year pretty easily. It’s not like Mars will run out of space!”

“I’m glad we have the solar and wind capacities, but the nuclear reactor represents a different capacity, doesn’t it?” said Shinji. “It seems to me it represents a huge, lucrative export: enriched uranium, plutonium, americium, and dozens of other isotopes that are needed in space. Solar power is impractical for most of the moon, the asteroids, and the outer solar system, and wind is unavailable on the moon, Mercury, and in jovian space. Nuclear power is essential for propulsion beyond Mars and will probably make our flights to and from Earth faster. Even with the Swift shuttle’s immense reliability, using it to launch radioactive substances remains politically risky and emotionally charged. We’re the potential source for the entire solar system beyond Earth.”

“Including the U.S. military,” replied Érico. “They have said again they won’t pursue a star wars defense system, but I don’t believe them. Martian uranium cannot be used to pursue violence on Earth; it seems to me we have a moral obligation to prevent that at all costs.”

“At all costs?” asked Shinji. “Would you reject exploration of the outer solar system?”

“If the alternative is the possible incineration of millions of human beings and their blood partially on our hands, yes.” Érico spoke quite forcefully and there was silence around the table, as well as around two or three nearby tables where the escalating conversation had become a distraction.

“But Érico, don’t you think there are other ways to remain vigilant?” asked Helmut. “For example, getting all the pledges in writing, and making sure the penalties are strong enough?”

“Perhaps, but that might be a slippery slope, Helmut, and one that could cause our lights to go out. Keep in mind that radioactive isotopes must be made when the fission process is actively going on, and fission makes heat that has to be disposed of. If they want to make fifty thousand kilowatts of electricity —for that’s how much you have to make, to make a dozen or two kilos of plutonium annually—we’re going to become a lean goose suddenly force fed a tonne of truffles. Our total power generating capacity right now is under two thousand kilowatts, including redundancy. What would we do with fifty thousand kilowatts? You can be sure that whatever we do, we’ll get partially dependent on it, and we’ll neglect solar panels and wind turbines because they will suddenly seem like a wasteful duplication of infrastructure. Five years, ten years after adjusting to the availability of fifty thousand kilowatts, how will we fight the U.S. military if they want to change the rules and use the Plutonium for powering weapons? We’ll be co-opted.”

“Then we need to be sure there is involvement by the United Nations as well,” said Shinji. “And that any nuclear facility here has safeguards beyond anything we can insist on.”

“That would help,” agreed Érico.

“We should take the matter to the Mars Council,” suggested Lal.

“The Council? That might embarrass the Commission,” said Helmut.

Érico shrugged. “What’s a government for? If the Mars Council is the future Mars legislative body, let’s get it involved. Nuclear power on Mars is a big issue; the residents should have a say, as should the landowners.”

“I agree,” said Lal. He pointed. “We can approach Will about this right now, if we want.”

“No, we need to plan this a bit, first,” replied Érico. “Besides, he’s heading up to the stage.”

“I guess we’re getting a conjunction speech,” noted Clara.

Will Elliott hopped up onto the stage and stepped to the podium. He waited a moment for the microphone to be activated and for the crowd to quiet. “I don’t want to take a lot of your time, but this occasion seems an appropriate one for a comment. First, happy conjunction to everyone. That sounds strange to me because we haven’t celebrated conjunction before, exactly. It used to be, during the first few columbiads here, we took a vacation of sorts during conjunction because we couldn’t communicate with Earth very effectively, so there was no reason to have expeditions rolling or to perform any tasks we wanted Earth to oversee. Our television and internet got very limited for a week or so. Of course, now that ESA and NASA have each launched a communications satellite into solar orbit, one fifteen million kilometers ahead of Earth and one trailing Earth by the same distance, we will encounter no communications interruptions at all. I don’t know why it took them so long.

“So enjoy conjunction. We’re going to have a lot of fun activities. Welcome home to the members of the Hellas and above all, the Meridiani Expedition. Hellas has advanced our science and possibly our power supply significantly. Meridiani had so much fun they extended their work from seven months to eleven and revolutionized our situation in the Central Highlands. Let’s give the members of both expeditions a hand.”

He paused to let everyone applaud. “After conjunction, we have two new expeditions going out. The Elysium Expedition will be investigating thermal vents and potential geothermal power in that area. The North Polar expedition will be drilling the cap, and they hope to reach the bottom of the ice.

“I do have some good news for everyone. I received confirmation a few hours ago that the French government has decided to make a gift to Mars similar to the Statue of Liberty. Called ‘the Spirit of Mars,’ the eighty-meter monument will be made of aluminized and painted mylar with metal reinforcements. It will be erected one kilometer from Embarcadero next year, attached to its own station-keeping unit. Our own Madhu Gupta-Anderson will be the chief designer.”

That generated strong and sustained applause because many had followed the planning. “So Mars is doing well. The Caravel Project is taking shape quite nicely and the biome expansion is moving along according to schedule, in spite of being short of personnel. We’re building an entire world here, and the successes are very concrete and exciting. They are also the result of your hard work, so thanks to all of you.”

Will stepped down off the stage to applause. He spotted Lal and headed for his table. The others there looked at each other a bit nervously, reflecting on their critical comments.

“Hey, Lal,” Will said. “I want to thank you personally for all your work on the Meridiani Expedition. I think it was probably the longest, most complicated expedition we’ve ever sent out, and it accomplished about 150% of what we expected. The science will be remembered for a long time and it made history by founding two new outposts. I can’t think of anything we’ve done to which to compare it, except maybe building the Circumnavigational Trail.” He offered his hand.

Lal shook hands. “Thanks; you are very kind, Will. But I’d thank Johnny Lind as well. He ran half the expedition while I ran the other half, and he often had the harder half; he was in charge of the construction for the last five months, after all.”

“Alright, I’ll go find Johnny as well, then. So, you’re vacationing for a few weeks?”

“Yes, then turning to the task of writing it all up. I should be available for field work again next year.”

“Excellent. Enjoy conjunction.”

“Thanks, Will.” Elliott turned and headed across the Patio to Johnny Lind. Johnny had gotten up to get coffee, so Will headed there. “Johnny,” he called, as he approached. “I want to thank you for your dedicated work on the Meridiani expedition.”

“Oh, thanks, Will, I appreciate that.”

“Seriously, you accomplished a tremendous amount. The science is first rate; it sounds like our understanding of this world’s formation and development was moved forward significantly. The trail will revolutionize transportation and the two new outposts will expand our exports. The three mining companies will be paying us a total of two billion euros over the next three columbiads for the mineral rights, plus fifty percent of the profit. Your expedition has made the Caravel Project financially possible.”

“Really?” Johnny seemed genuinely pleased to hear that. “I’m delighted, because as you know, I want to do more exploring, especially to asteroids.”

“Well, it sounds like Lal will be giving you an excellent review. Let’s plan to talk after the review is completed.”

“Alright.” Johnny was obviously very happy. “I hope you don’t hold a grudge against me for running for Aurorae Council?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything illegal. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Good. Because I’d like to start thinking about my next assignment. I’m taking some vacation up at the Dacha, then maybe a week or two here.”

“Okay. Let’s talk some time in the next few weeks, when you’re ready and after I’ve heard from Lal, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Commissioner.”

“Happy Conjunction.”

------------------------------------

The weekend of conjunction activities included one coincidental religious event: a Bahá'í Holy Day, the Birth of the Báb. Because of Tomas Racan’s efforts to invite practically everyone personally, Clarke Dome was crowded for the program. After a program of sacred readings, some recorded music, and a few live songs, everyone turned to the tables of food that Mars’s seven Bahá'ís provided. As Father Greg approached the coffee pot, he was surprised to see Ruhullah nearby drinking tea. “Oh, good afternoon. This has become quite an ecumenical occasion.”

“Yes, it has; I’m surprised,” replied Ruhullah. “Tomas is Anna’s cousin, right?”

Greg nodded. “Yes. He shocked us by converting to Bahá'í back in the spring. It seems to have really fired him up, too; he may be the most active member they have here.”

“I think so. He invited me to come, so I did.”

“I’m a bit surprised; aren’t Muslims hostile to Bahá'ís?”

“Well, some are. As you probably know, the history in Iran has been rather sad, with thousands of Bahá'ís being imprisoned and executed purely for their religion. Of course, with the third Iranian Revolution, the situation has changed and the religion is now legal there. I’m relieved; in my opinion the Islamic revolution did more damage to Islam than a thousand years of corrupt Muslim kings were able to accomplish.” Ruhullah smiled. “I’ll tell you a little secret that I’ve never told Will. My first name, ‘Ruhullah,’ the ‘spirit of God,’ was given to me in honor of Ayatollah Ruhullah Khomeini. So I am named for the architect of the Islamic revolution! And my last name, ‘Islami,’ reflects the religious zealotry of my grand father. He had neighbors in Shiraz with the last name ‘Naha’i,’ which is a Bahá'í last name, and that angered him, so when the time came to select a family name for his family, he chose ‘Islami.’”

“Really? It’s sort of anti-Bahá'í, then?”

Ruhullah nodded. “Of course, I am not proud of these facts. If anything, I find them ironic, because Mars is a different sort of world. Here, religion can have a role in society if it can compete successfully, and that means being tolerant and exemplary of good deeds and compassion.”

“Yes, it’s interesting, isn’t it? Here, interfaith activities are assumed to be natural and normal, everyone is willing to pray with everyone else, and religion is not seen as automatically suspect and evil as long as it is tolerant and positive. And we have a scientific society where anti-evolutionary notions are regarded as bizarre, as are most interpretations of prophecy.”

“Yes, exactly. We have a sort of liberal religion here, though most religious people seem to take scripture seriously. It’s difficult to explain to one’s acquaintances on Earth; they’re embedded in a different culture. I suppose you have that problem as well, as a Catholic priest who is also married.”

“Yes, and I get interviewed a lot by media people as a result. I always have to stress that they have to be here to understand. And we do have our share of people with very strong religious opinions, not to mention believers who don’t like interfaith activities.”

“And a lot of agnostics,” added Ruhullah, with a nod.

“Do you think, if I had been elected to the Borough Council a few months ago, that I should have accepted the post?” asked Greg.

“Hum. Yes, why not? I’ll tell you why. The issue of conflict of interest between priestly and secular positions, in my opinion, is less than the issue of conflict of interest between serving on the Mars civil government and being an employee of the Commission. I feel a lot of unease over that conflict.”

“Yes, I suppose you do, especially with people questioning the Commission’s plans for nuclear power, working with the U.S., etc.”

“Exactly. I’m bound as an employee of the Commission to be loyal to its goals and purposes, but as Borough Clerk and as a member of the Mars Council, I have to keep Aurorae’s and Mars’s interests first. When an issue like nuclear power comes along, what do I do?” He shook his head.

“If it’s any comfort, there are only two people without a close tie to the Commission living in Aurorae—Madhu and Silvio—and they’re both on the Council already, so someone has to fill the other three seats.”

“And as a priest, you have a good reason to override your status as an employee of the Commission. But Greg, how will civil discourse ever develop under these circumstances?”

“I’m sure company towns have faced this problem before, and they managed. Give us time; Mars hasn’t been settled very long! Gradual privatization will change the employment statistics. So far the Commission has been careful not to interfere.”

“Yes, and thank God for that,” said Ruhullah. “It could cause morale here to deteriorate quite quickly.”

“We have our share of extreme or strongly held opinions, but so far we’ve managed to keep the creativity levels high.”

They suddenly heard applause from the other side of the dome. They turned to look; a small group of people gathered in a corner were clapping. Everyone else stopped and watched. Robert Wairimu was there, tall as Kenyans typically were, and he was nodding thanks humbly.

“Is he getting married?” asked Greg.

Ruhullah shrugged. Then Anna, who had been in between Greg and the crowd, walked over to him and Ruhullah.

“Robert just became a Bahá'í,” she said, a bit startled.

“Oh?” Greg was startled, too.

“What was he?” asked Ruhullah.

“Catholic,” replied Anna.

“Really?” exclaimed Greg. “We’ve never seen him at mass.”

Anna nodded. “Not long after he arrived, I was talking to him on the Patio, and he told me that was his family background.”

“Oh.” He frowned at the enthusiastic hugging that he could see. “Maybe they should be a bit more discrete.”

“I think he surprised them,” replied Anna.

“Conversion’s always an ambiguous event in a small society like this,” observed Ruhullah. “When Rosyln Tremaine became a Muslim last year and started wearing the hijab around the Outpost, it raised eyebrows.”

“Especially among Protestants; she had been Baptist,” added Greg. “Of course, when Fatima Hijazi started to attend my Bible study classes three years ago, that was hard on the Muslim community.”

“Well, our teaching make it pretty hard to accept that,” replied Ruhullah, uneasy.

“Like you said, change is never easy,” said Anna.

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