Seconders, p.12
Seconders, page 12
The technicians started lifting the central ring. Jan saw half the colony come and watch at some point during the sol. It was like watching a huge inflatable igloo. Long rolls of clear membrane were pumped up into tubes that stretched between the cables around the ring. Once the ring started rising the cables were paid out from the winches on the anchorages at the perimeter, but all were kept taught. Each tubular air cushion was made up of three layers which inflated and went rigid with the internal pressure. It was only Martian air, not breathable, and the pressure was less than half of Earth air density, but that was all you needed when outside was less than one percent.
As each ring inflated the central ring rose higher. Jan observed colonists who were watching the work: they were captivated. He saw Bulman taking a walk in his EVA suit. Normally he only came out to bawl at someone, but he stood for a full fifteen minutes, just watching.
Jan saw Charlie Peters walking the circumference, pulling on the corners of the membrane to free it from snags and keep it unrolling. A small knot of watchers had gathered, fascinated by the performance. And he saw Verena, on one of the cable-winch teams, guiding the slow ascent of the dome’s new skin. She was smiling.
Sol 294, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – V Meier
Pressurisation. Verena walked the rim to check the concentric tubular air cushions were fully sealed against it. The pumps were pushing Martian air into the dome and the oxygenators broke the carbon dioxide down into carbon and oxygen: storing one and releasing the other. Now they had a massive stockpile of manufactured nitrogen to pump into the mix to make it breathable: they needed oxygen, but pure oxygen would kill them.
The colonists had brought fertilisers to mix with Martian soil, because it would need nitrates to sustain crop growth. They also brought specially cultivated bacteria. Once water had been extracted from the ice seams below Pavonis their agricultural team were able to drench the soil mix and add the bacteria within the temporary biome. The bacteria had been busy breaking down the soil and releasing nitrogen for months, a process called denitrification. Once the dome was finished and planted the nitrates could be returned to the soil by nitrogen fixing bacteria, which lived in the roots of the crops. This nitrogen cycle occurred naturally on Earth, but it was being manufactured on Mars. It would be critical to survival, creating a little bit of the Earth ecosystem on Mars. The plants would breathe and so would Verena and her fellow colonists.
The cables and membrane cushions helped to give the dome shape, but it flowed like the surface of water, giving it the look of a half-deflated balloon. Now that the pumps were on it rose and stretched, filling with the potential for life. Soon the skin would be pulled taut and tomorrow… tomorrow Verena would take off her helmet.
Sol 295, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – J Wojcik
Everyone gathered in the centre of the dome, all ninety-three surviving colonists. Jan felt strange seeing everybody in one place at the same time, but no one wanted to be anywhere else.
They stood on a gentle rise in the middle of a huge, ploughed field that was waiting to be topped with fertiliser and sown. The soil around was dark brown, a stark contrast to the small patch of red Martian dust that remained on their mound, and yet comfortably reassuring for the Earthborn settlers. The Chasma walls sparkled with reflections from scores of hab pods that had been dug into the rock or nestled into natural cave mouths. But everyone was looking up at the sun as it shone through the printed solar cells, laid out in fabulous fractal swirls over their heads. It reminded Jan of sunlight through the canopies of trees, and it lifted his heart. Verena had taken the practical necessity of solar PVs and arranged them in a way that punched his heart with such a powerful memory that he almost shed a tear. Tubular struts glittered and hovered, seemingly disconnected from each other and the world. Cables ran so fine that they vanished among the ripple of inflated membrane cushions. Jan and his colleagues were lost in a world within a world.
“What’s the air mix reading?” asked Bulman, pulling Jan’s focus back down to ground level again.
“Almost there,” replied Charlie Peters. “Still a little low on nitrogen.” Ironically their systems found it quicker to scrub CO2 and release oxygen than pump the nitrogen in.
“Breathable yet?” Bulman persisted.
“Yes, but…” Charlie did not have the chance to finish her reply. Verena released the seal on her helmet with a slight hiss and pulled it off. She pealed her cap away and shook her bob of red hair free, inhaling a long deep breath. Then she smiled a smile that would light the dark side of the Moon.
8
Fall
Sol 297, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – V Meier
Today Verena became a farmer. Dr Figueredo showed her the nursery slopes where the crops from the temporary biome were being transplanted. Inevitably some plants would be lost again, but he was optimistic that his team could limit further losses now they had the new dome. He took her out into the fields to join the rest of his agricultural team, transplanting crops and sowing new seeds.
They followed the rover plough teams which turned the topsoil, adding fertiliser and spraying it with melted ice water. On Earth there would be a second vehicle with a chute that scattered seeds across the fresh turned soil, but they could not afford to be so profligate with their precious seed stock. Every other step they knelt and pressed a pinch of seeds into the ground, cupping the soil in their palms and folding it over, the old-fashioned way. Droids followed with more water, pouring it over the seeds with precision, so as not to waste a drop on unseeded soil.
It was tiring yet uplifting work, and so much easier than if Verena had been wearing a clumsy EVA suit. The endless list of snagging checks could wait a few hours. She wanted to enjoy the place she had worked so hard to help create. Farming was more important than fussing over the completion details. This was their food for the future. This was what it should feel like to be a settler.
Sol 298, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – J Wojcik
Jan felt odd, not wearing his EVA suit while standing ‘outside’. Of course, he was not outside, he was inside the dome. But a dome that is four kilometres across does not feel like a building, it feels like a field with a man-made sky. That sky was mesmerising. As Jan walked, the sunlight flickered across the cells and struts. The cables traced the butterscotch sky like a delicate spider web.
The agricultural team worked their way slowly and methodically across the fields, a trail of dark wet soil behind them. Tomorrow it would rain a fine misting rain. Jan knew that with certainty because the dome team would test their sprinkler system to irrigate the fields, and he was looking forward to it. Strange, because the constant rain was one of the reasons he had left Earth. Yet it would be refreshingly different to stand under a rainy sky while the sun shone. Maybe there would be a rainbow.
Jan walked towards the mine, keen to see the beta droids again. Their routine had changed: Jan had to get into the walker before going through the new airlock to find them. The working areas of the mine were not sealed because they could not follow all the side vents and passages. As he walked, his eye was caught by a flicker of light on the horizon. He peered at the edge of the dome and saw silent streaks of light passing many kilometres away. It took a little while for him to work out what they were: a shower of tiny meteorites burning the thin Martian air as they plummeted from space.
That was one of the questions the team had asked Verena: what happens if the dome is hit by meteorites? The Martian atmosphere is so thin that all but the smallest meteors hit the ground, rather than burning up. Of course, the design team had thought of that: emergency cushions lined the seams between each circle of primary ones. If one tube burst then the emergency back-up would inflate explosively, like the airbag on a car, filling the gap. The dome would leak slowly but it could be repaired. The aerial line would stop it sagging and falling on people below. Jan had been reassured at the time, but another flurry of fiery streaks passed close to the first and he began to wonder.
Sol 299, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – V Meier
A rainbow. It’s just physics: droplets of water fall and the sun shines through them. Light is splayed at every angle, so that each colour can be seen in the order of their wavelength, but this does not describe a rainbow to another human being, the experience transcends the physical description. A rainbow on Earth was beautiful, here on Mars it was magical. The sprinklers high in the dome’s cable net released a fine mist. The moisture soaked the cultivated soil. Nothing was wasted: the precious water was contained within the dome by egg-crate sheeting beneath the fields that collected the water before it drained away, acting as a reservoir for the crops. The rain fell, the sun shone and look what they had made: a rainbow!
What a pain it was that she had to go snagging today. Verena had a thirty-five thousand-point checklist and only the first few points were projected onto the inside of her glasses. They listed all the building items she needed to inspect over the next few weeks. No one had warned her about this when she said she wanted to be an architect. Neither did they warn her about people like Markus.
“Ah, Frau Meier, you are ready for the inspection.”
“Ja, and you have been here waiting for me to arrive.”
“Wie gewohnt.”
“Wie gewhont, I have paused to appreciate the world. It is what human beings do occasionally.”
Markus raised an eyebrow, as if to acknowledge the frivolity of Verena’s actions, then led the way to the first cable anchorage. Logically they would start at the bottom and work their way up.
On reaching the twenty-first anchorage, she saw streaks of light on the horizon again and pointed them out to Markus.
“Pausing to appreciate the world again, Frau Meier?”
“Pausing to wonder whether we are in danger, Markus.”
“It is not that unusual for small meteorites to fall here. We have built sufficient redundancy into the dome cables and membranes to deal with it, if required.”
“It isn’t the small ones I’m thinking about.” She was remembering Johanna’s theory about the northern hemisphere of Mars.
“Larger meteor strikes are statistically much less likely. However, we will cope if there is a medium size strike.”
Verena was about to raise the spectre of a large strike but shut her mouth instead. She recalled the meeting where they had drawn up a list of risks and decided which ones were possible to design for and which were not. There was unanimous agreement that nothing could be done to design for a large meteor strike. Anything over a few metres across would hit like a bomb and wipe everyone out. The chances of it happening were exceedingly small, but that didn’t mean it would never happen. If you wait long enough then it probably would happen, as shown by the number of craters on the surface of Mars. But Mars had been without a thick atmosphere for millennia and you could count the number of big strikes over that time and assure yourself that it shouldn’t happen for many thousands of years to come. People had been on Mars barely three hundred sols and their main concern was surviving the next three hundred. Even so, the shower of tiny meteorites unsettled Verena.
Sol 300, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – V Meier
Sam Grayson approached Verena as she was staggering up the path to her hab module. She was tired from snagging cables and bending backwards in the lifting platform to study each air cushion joint. She had stopped to stretch and look at the view from the gradual ramp that climbed the side of the Chasma wall. Sam sidled up to her, not sure whether to interrupt or not.
“Hello, Sam,” Verena smiled while continuing to enjoy the view.
“Hi, Verena,” he paused, and she could tell he was working out what to say. “I’ve been studying the meteor showers over the Borealis Basin.” This was one of the many things Trish and Sam were here to study, alongside solar flares, radiation, UV intensity and anything that might try and kill them on Mars. It was all part of their routine.
“Okay. What have you observed?”
“Erm, I think they might be part of a larger cluster of debris.”
“How large?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been studying satellite images with Trish but it’s difficult to see most meteorites unless they’re really close or really big.”
“That’s ambiguous.”
“Yes, it is. Sorry.”
“But you’ve seen something.”
“Yes, we have. It could just be more small meteorites coming soon, or it could be larger ones, further off. We can’t be sure about the distance and sizes until we take more measurements.”
“When might you know more?”
“In a couple of sols. We’ll have enough observations to track velocity and distance from the satellites by then.”
“Will they hit us here?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“But you think it’s possible, which is why you’re telling me.”
“Mm.”
She turned to face Sam. “Why are you telling me and not one of our captains?”
“I tried telling Captain Suárez, but he politely encouraged me to report to Captain Bulman if I thought it would affect the operation of the dome.”
“And have you?”
Dr Grayson shuffled a little and looked at his feet. “No. Bulman scares me.”
Verena laughed. “You are not the only one, but I no longer care whether he tries to intimidate me or not. Come and tell me as soon as you know more.”
Sam made a half smile and looked back down at his shoes, making a small figure of eight in the dust. He nodded then walked off.
Verena remembered the tiny meteorite that had caused so much concern on the Aldrin. The chances of it hitting them had been very small, yet it had happened. Was it really possible that they might be hit again, here in the dome? Of course, it was possible, very unlikely, but possible.
Sol 301, Pavonis Chasma, ‘A’ site – V Meier
Verena found Captain Suárez in his office-module, perched on a ledge overlooking the central dome space and fields below. It was an impressive view, worth the climb through the zig-zag stairways and natural rock ramps that ascended the south-west edge of the chasm. He was poring through the reports from Earth-based Mission Control.
“Come in, Verena, good to see you. I welcome any diversion from these reports, but especially a visit from you.”
“Thank you, may I talk to you?”
“Of course, please take a seat. I hope you have been treated with a little more respect now that your vision has been realised.”
“I haven’t noticed so much abuse. Is that the same thing?”
Suárez smiled. “Not quite, but it’s a start, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m impressed. I too had wondered what it would be like to live in this. It’s uplifting.”
“Thank you, you know that it was a team effort.”
“Yes, but you have led that team, and led it well despite severe pressure and dissent. I have observed that tempers have eased a little. The dome is complete, crop planting and seeding are progressing and so we should have new grown food before our rations run out. And people enjoy walking around in the sunlight without an EVA suit on: I have seen a few smiles in the last couple of days. You should give yourself some credit for all of that.”
Verena allowed herself a smile and looked down at the floor. “Thank you, but I came to talk about something else.”
“Go on.”
“You remember saying to me that things don’t always go to plan, but we should be prepared to deal with the unexpected, especially on Mars.”
“I remember saying something like that, yes.”
“Sam told me that he and Trish are observing further meteorite showers like the ones we’ve been seeing in the northern sky.”
A flicker of something like a frown passed over his face and was gone. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“They are at a distance. I suspect Sam is worried that something might hit our newly built dome.”
“Possible, but relatively unlikely. My advice is to avoid worrying about something that may not happen and cannot be prevented if it does. If we are hit, then we shall deal with it. We have procedures, we have been trained to deal with emergencies, there is nothing you can achieve by worrying about it.”
“I agree, but I could tell that Sam was concerned and it unsettled me a little.”
“I spoke to Sam after the incident on the Aldrin. He has a deep knowledge of physics and an active imagination. He told me he was concerned about further strikes because you often find meteors in groups. I said what I have just said to you: ‘would it help anyone to worry about it?’”
“Surely some warning is useful. Shouldn’t we say something to Captain Bulman?”
“What do you think his reaction will be?”
“He’ll probably say the same as you, but not nearly as politely.”
“Hmm. I heard about what he said to you and Cathal when you arrived: asking you to reconsider your pregnancy. That was not handled well. However, Captain Bulman is a very experienced commander. He may not be polite, but he is very good at his job. I suggest that you simply keep your distance from him unless you need to speak to him as part of your work.”
“I have been.” she paused and wondered whether it was appropriate to ask her next question. “Have you?”
Suárez raised his eyebrows. “Actually, I suppose I have. You are intelligent enough to draw your own conclusions from that, but I would appreciate it if you did not share them with others.”
“Of course.” she smiled again at this rare confidence he had shared with her. She felt encouraged to ask another question that had been festering at the back of her mind. “I cannot prove it, but I think Captain Bulman was trying to slow down the reconnaissance of the Tithonium site.”
