Darwin's Dogs Revised Edition

Darwin's Dogs Walter G Willaert
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DARWIN'S DOGS
All Rights Reserved.

© 2010 Walter G. Willaert
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any
information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the
publisher.
This novel is work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
to Ben and Eva
“Mars is just God’s way to warn us what we are doing to our own planet.”
(A. Shukin, 2063 A.D.)
Walter G Willaert is also the author of The Mecca Connection and Allah’s Angels.
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1.
Martin Bellum, President of The United States, pushed off from the edge of his side
and fired his million dollar question away.
“I would very much like to know your opinion about settling on Mars again, Liz, so
tell me what you think.”
Her face set. “It’s Elisabeth, Mr. President. Don’t call me ‘Liz’ or any other nick
name, please. In the second place, Mars is way out of my life; I’ve determined that once
and for all.”
She was shocked by the harshness of her own tone. But it was the mention of Mars
more than him calling her ‘Liz.’
The silence hung like a curtain. Kovinsky stared at her, obviously perplexed, while
Jack looked as if he was about to do or say something but she wasn’t sure what.
“Of course, uh, Dr. McIntosh. I’m sorry.” Martin Bellum seemed to be studying his
tie, looked up from it and smiled at her. “I apologize, Elisabeth.”
Elizabeth felt the ‘mean kid’ expression leave her face and she reminded herself that
there was no call to be bitchy; she only wanted the ground rules set from the start.
Experience had taught her that mutual understanding usually meant less trouble in the
long run. Perched on the chair’s edge, Elizabeth turned to face Martin Bellum more
squarely. “I’m sorry, Mr. President, if I sounded rude.”
“Don’t feel upset, Elisabeth, it’s my mistake. Right, then, you’re doubtlessly
wondering why we had to take you away from your teaching duties on such short
notice.”
“That’s an understatement, Mr. President. My students will imagine all sorts of
things and I’ll have a hard time explaining...”
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Bellum cut in swiftly. “Don’t worry about that, Elisabeth. You will be the heroine of
the week, plucked away for a secret mission to save the President! That’s what they
want to hear and that’s what we’ve told your dean.”
“I see, Mr. President.” She raised her coffee cup from the table and sipped from it,
then asked, “May I know what that secret mission is all about?”
Kovinsky broke in. He cleared his throat with a rasping sound. His nicotine stained
voice sounded grouchy, but it provided him with enough authority to get everyone’s
attention. John Kovinsky, head of MEA, Mars Exploration Agency that had replaced
good old NASA about ten years ago. He looked a bit like a beardless Abraham Lincoln
with his ascetic profile and sunken eyes.
“Permit me, mister President. Doctor McIntosh, we stumbled upon your doctoral
dissertation about living on Mars. I believe it was entitled ‘Darwin on Mars’.”
She remembered the paper vaguely. It had kicked up some dust but had stayed within
the confined academic walls and soon the interest had worn off. She tried to recall what
was so important about it.
Kovinsky clarified. “We’re planning a new settling program, and we could use your
expertise.”
A new settling program? Colonizing Mars? Again? Last time, if she remembered
correctly, it did not end so well.
“I really don’t think I will be much of help, mister Kovinsky,” she stiffly said,
intensely wishing she were back in class – or, better still, in the faculty lounge, having
her morning break with the colleagues.
“You’ve been with the first expedition,” Kovinsky went on, seemingly not wanting
to hear objections of any sort.
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“That was twenty-five years ago, mister Kovinsky. I was twenty at the time, still
junior at college, and I didn’t put in much effort to the success of it.”
It had produced her much appreciated paper though, so in a way it had been a fertile
eighteen months stay. However, she had forgotten a lot about it since then.
‘And we all know that second expedition was a letdown,” she added softly.
“That was ten years ago,” Kovinsky added to refresh her memory. He sent a nod
towards Armstrong.
“Jack here was deputy project manager on Mars then.”
She stared at Armstrong, whose glassed eyes tried to hide his perverse delight in
seeing her being put off. He was a head shorter then Kovinsky, about the same length
as the President and about thirty-five. He had untidy receding thin blond hair, a five
o’clock shadow and his attitude was cold and standoffish. His skin was studded with
tiny red spots.
Kovinsky went on. “Jack made a great job, but unfortunately it didn’t pay off so
well.”
That was some kind of an understatement. As far as she knew, they had blown off
the second expedition within months of arrival. The media did not make much fuzz
about it; it was the time of the third world terrorism.
“And how do I fit in the picture?” she asked, feeling more and more uneasy with the
headlights shining heavy on her.
Armstrong and Kovinsky exchanged conspiring glances. Then, unexpectedly, the
President stood up, walked onto her and took her hand in a gentle grip.
“I have to leave you with these gentlemen, Elisabeth. I’m not in their league, and the
Nigerian Ambassador is waiting for me. Oil stuff, you know. These guys drive a hard
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bargain. And they all have nukes nowadays if you know what I mean. We will meet
again, I promise you. By the way, how’s your son Albert?”
Nice of him to show some consideration, she said to herself, but it did work. Her
tension fell off.
“He’s staying on ISS 4 working as a mining engineer, mister President. It’s been
months since I’ve seen him.”
“We’ll arrange for you to meet him, Elisabeth, don’t you worry.”
Before she could thank him, he was gone, flapping his hand loosely to the others.
It was still for some seconds. Kovinsky put his fingertips together and started to tap
his chin. He stared at Elisabeth for a while, and then turned to Armstrong.
“So, what do you figure, Jack?”
“I guess we can go on, John. I mean, if Elisabeth agrees.”
She gazed at them by turns before she gave them her opinion.
“Listen, mister Kovinsky, I’m not going to Mars again. It has been twenty-five years
ago, I have a nice life even since; I don’t need another fifteen minutes of fame. I’m a
middle-aged woman, if you haven’t noticed yet.”
Kovinsky didn’t wink. “You look alright to me, Elisabeth, and that has nothing to do
with it. By the way, it’s John and Jack to you. Let me explain why we were thinking of
you in the first place.”
He told her that Bellum had personally pointed her out. The President himself? She
was not sure what to make of that.
“The President has read your paper and it was your summary that struck him.”
Summary? She had forgotten how she had wrapped up her paper.
Kovinsky conjured a pocket reader up in his hand. “I quote. If the colonization will
go over, we will have to understand certain divine essentials of human evolution. We
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will have to take in consideration there is more in heaven and on Earth than we can
imagine. Maybe we should not take exploring and conquering the universe for granted.
We still are human beings, primates with a higher intelligence, and there are unknown
powers we must be aware of.”
Had she written that? Well, she was young then and she needed the money. She
remembered she was also pregnant at the time.
“That’s a long time back; I have changed since then as we all do. I can’t stand
forever for what I’ve written at the time.”
“Of course not, but the President found it was exactly what he wanted to hear. You
know he is a strong believer in the creationism theory, the hand of God that rocks the
cradle. For some reason only known to him, he’s convinced that you do to, even when
you put Darwin in your paper.”
“I’m not going to debate over religious matters, mister Kovinsky. I’m more
concerned that the President has this odd idea I’m the best person to the job only for the
sake of his moral beliefs.”
Armstrong woke up. “That’s my opinion too, doctor, but if we go on with this, we’ll
need all the support we can lay our hands on. The previous expedition petered out and
we can’t have that twice.”
“Why is it so important to go to Mars again? I mean, what’s there that is still so
imperative that we need to jeopardize people just for some megalomaniac dream?’
The silence was painful; Kovinsky stared at her as if she was blaspheming. Then he
regained his posture.
“If you don’t want to be part of something an experimental sociologist can only
dream of, that’s your prerogative, Elisabeth, but let me tell you about some interesting
rewards.”
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“I don’t need the rewards, John. I’m happy with my life and I’d like to live a little bit
longer.”
That was not really true. She had once experienced how exciting fame was, with the
talk shows, the newspaper people, the free lunches and the celebrity discounts, and now
she was leading the irksome life of a teacher with no expectations at all. They had
forgotten about her.
The reflection of going back, still, was like rewinding the living nightmare called
Mars. She vividly recalled she was constantly motion sick, even with that medication
settlers referred to as ‘Martian Invaders’. And living a subterranean life was closer to
hell then she had expected.
Her job had been a doddle compared to that of the workers. She had been hired as an
observer, watching over the mental health of the hundreds of miners and staff who had
to dig and build the impenetrable shield to prevent them from meteorites and cosmic
radiations. She had used this opportunity to write her doctorate and afterwards she had
earned her rewards. After that experience, she was resolute not to set another foot on the
red rock again.
“Sorry, I can’t,” she concluded, but it came out half-hearted. “I’m too old for that
kind of venture; you’ll have to choose someone else. I can provide you with at least five
candidates in my field that will do.”
Kovinsky seemed to sense some eagerness in her voice. His eyes had a hypnotic
stare.
“The President wants you, Elisabeth, let me remind you. If you want to live it up
comfortably for the rest of your life, I’d suggest you’d pay attention to what we
propose.”
That sounded like a hidden threat. What where these two brats taking her for?
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“Jack, would you take over, please.” Kovinsky leaned back to lit a butt.
Armstrong straightened up.
“Okay, John. Elisabeth, we have two reasons why you should cooperate. I mean,
apart from the fact that you were our first pick. One, your son will be entering a new
stage in his career. He will be transferred to Phobos to do research on new energy
sources. It will take him a year or maybe two. Anyway, he will not return until his call
is over. Two, we know about your husband and what came about to you, I mean,
financially speaking. And we want to compensate your troubles with a number that will
match his life insurance.”
Both reasons cut her heart open. Albert was the only human being she could rely on.
He had leaded her through that knotty time after her husband had left her and they had
developed a close mother-son link. The notion of losing him for another year or more
was almost unbearable.
Her other half had run off with that little freshie of his and he had put his one million
dollar life insurance to her name. And when he died some five years later, the slut
inherited all of it and was now living in some remote Pacific dream condo far from the
madding crowd.
“And you don’t have to worry about your age or health, Elisabeth,” Kovinsky broke
in again, noticing she was giving in. “Since the first expedition new methods have been
developed, the transport systems have much improved and we’ve managed to make
living conditions on Mars tantamount to Earth’s. You won’t know you will be in a
pillbox five meters belowground. There is even an artificial sun that’s healthier then the
real one. And let me remind you of the opportunities. You’ll be appointed head
psychologist and you’ll be part of working for a better world.”
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He played it smart, she had to admit. Partially blackmailing and getting her in two
minds. She came to believe that, if she would refuse, she would be back in class until
she got the golden handshake. Albert would not be around forever when she needed
help, and God knows she could use that kind of money. She was entitled to it; she had
given her husband the best years of her young life. Frankly, it was a good way to pay
that little trophy wife back.
She was systematically drawn to the outlook. Mars was a bad place, but at the same
time, it presented her with a challenge that no experimental sociologist in her right mind
would decline. She was fully aware this third expedition would be the crucial one; after
that, it was over and they all knew it. If it went wrong like the other one, Mars was
written off as a possible space colony forever. And there were no other options in this
planetary system.
“Let me think it over,” she decided.
Both men shook their heads at the same time.
“Sorry, Elisabeth,” Armstrong said in a grim tone. “You have to decide now.”
“Why?”
“Because, if you decide it’s a go, you can’t go back to your normal life again; you’ll
be staying here and then hop on the shuttle, next stop Mars.”
“No, not a chance, I need to pick up my stuff, say goodbyes, pay my bills,
whatever,” she protested. “You can’t do that to me.”
“We’ll take care of everything, Elisabeth,” Kovinsky said, now sounding like he had
won the battle of Waterloo. “Your day-to-day worries are over the minute you say yes.
Every bill will be settled, and of course, your wage will continue to be paid out. You’re
taking a long Sabbath; nobody will rack their brains over it.”
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The outlook of getting away from it all was tantalizing. What had she to expect when
she would go back to her tedious little life? She was lonely, and at nights, she knew she
was not getting younger and opportunities and alternatives were rapidly vaporizing with
every turn of the year.
It was a chance of a lifetime, she had to admit. She had the experience and if their
promises were forthright, this time it could be a fun trip, even if it meant traveling four
to five months in a void, fiendish space to finally land up on a still more hostile planet.
Elisabeth decided it was time to make up her mind. She drank her lukewarm coffee
and put the cup carefully down before she spoke.
“Okay, I’ll do it. On one condition, that this expedition will have an experimental
character. I want to prove something about living on another planet. I want some claims
settled and I want it to be put in black and white.”
A heavy load fell of her shoulders. Just now, she was sure she had made the right
decision; a little elf whispering in her ear that this was her momentum. Go for it, girl.
“We have a deal, Elisabeth,” Kovinsky said almost cheerfully. “Tomorrow you’ll
commence the selection procedures and we expect results in two to three weeks. You’ll
get all the help you need.”
“Selection procedures? What do you mean?” Elisabeth asked in wonder. She had
taken it for granted that this part of the game been settled.
“Oh didn’t we tell? Apologize,” Jack said with a sardonic smile. “We haven’t started
on the selections yet, for the simple fact that we’ve decided you should be in charge of
it. You’ll be dealing the cards from now on, congratulations.”
“That is, together with Jack, Elisabeth. He’ll assist you.” Kovinsky butted in.
‘And that’s why we’re in a hurry,” Jack completed. “We can’t waste time; space has
its own laws. So, why don’t we have lunch first, and talk it over?’
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Kovinsky got up, perceptibly relieved that everything went according to plan. He
reached his hand to her. “You won’t regret it, Elisabeth. We’ll see to that.”
Let’s hope they won’t regret it, Elisabeth said to herself.
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2.
They had been working together for two weeks, two tense and strenuous weeks and
results failed to materialize. At noon, Elisabeth used to disappear to the relaxation area
the staff had baptized ‘The Big Chill’.
They were housed in a new MEA facility, built two floors down PEOC, the
Presidential Emergency Operations Center below the White House left wing. It was
once built as a hideaway for the staff, but served now a much better purpose.
According to Jack, it really had the looks of an upgraded Martian base, with an
artificial sun and everything needed to make a long stay as pleasant in the given
circumstances. You had your own room with personal indoor climate where you could
listen to stress-relief music or the voice of some Zen healer satisfying your present
mood. A green garden, snugly love seats and miniature waterfalls completed the picture
of an underground Shangri La.
But then reality stormed in again, bawling to get back to work and before she knew,
she was sitting next to Jack, watching his fingers frantically touch-typing. Time was
running out swiftly.
Since the start of their partnership, they had been exiled from staff. They both had a
small suite to their own, bedroom, lavatory and a sparsely furnished sitting room. Food
was brought in three times a day and they had large quantities of snacks and drinks to
their purpose at the vendor machines in the operation room.
Jack Armstrong pointed to the next item on the wall screen, the picture of a young
girlie face with big brown eyes staring dreamily in the lens.
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“What do you think of her? Does she look like she’s fit to live on Mars? I don’t think
so.”
Elisabeth watched the face. It had a typical walking on air expression she did not
like; a lot of them had passed by since Jack had activated his database.
His database consisted of thousands of candidates, leftovers from the previous
expedition. She had been seeing about four hundred records, and none of them fit into
the picture she had of a true Martian settler.
She finally decided to toss in her opinion. “You’re looking with the wrong eyes,
Jack.”
He threw her an aggrieved glance. “I have only two of them, Elisabeth, and I don’t
see what you want me to see.”
Elisabeth stood up to pour two fresh cups of the decaf low fat brew they called
coffee from the espresso machine.
Two hundred and fifty to go, she thought, and they had achieved nothing but a lot of
rounds of bickering.
Jack was a brilliant academic, a genetics engineer, but he lacked social skills. He was
still a bachelor in his midst thirties, living with his mother before moving down here.
They had insurmountable dissimilarities. Jack was an unconditional follower of
Darwin’s evolution theory. To him there was no plan B, no force behind the safety
curtain that leads the universe to a clear-cut target. It was unconditional survival, life
finds life and you can do nothing about it. When you’re dead, you’re gone and the
world keeps on spinning until the sun finally decides to switch the light off.
Elisabeth believed that humanity had a purpose and that the universe was built on a
scheme so huge that man was not able to figure it out. It would all become clear once
you crossed that mysterious border called death.
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Both theories had embedded ventures. They could lead to man made disasters. If you
took it for granted that the human species was nothing more than a collection of
primates with enlarged brains, consequently there was no call for having moral
standards, since at the very end only the fittest were left over.
If you however believed that there is a plan for humankind, constructed by a superior
being, then, in its name you could be brought around that your own group, tribe, or race
was superior to another, and therefore with supreme help let the other kick the bucket.
Both beliefs have proven to be deadly. Even Darwin had refused to use the touchy
word ‘evolution’ until it had become so fashionable that his publisher finally put it in
the sixth edition of his ‘Origin of Species’.
Beside the intellectual fuss, she always had objections to the catchphrase fittest.
Darwin wrote his landmark at a time when the industrial revolution was still going
slow. He had no idea that soon men would drive cars and planes and rape nature to his
comforts. The key question was: if man crushes a hedgehog under his wheels, is he the
fit one of the two, or is it his car? To the poor hedgehog, it was not the driver who killed
him, but the machine. But can a machine be responsible for the road kill? Has a
machine a will of its own? Some would say yes, because once you’re sitting behind the
wheel and fire up the engine, matters are only partly in your hands from then on.
Though Jack was a true believer of evolutionism, he had a weird theory about the
descent of man.
“You see, Elisabeth, man doesn’t behave like ape. Man behaves like dog.” He
stopped to let it sink.
“Dogs? I didn’t know Darwin compared primates to canines.”
“Of course not, but he had rightly observed their relationship with men. If you’re
willing to listen I’d like to share it with you.”
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“I’m more than willing to listen, Jack. Even at my age there’s always something to
learn from.”
Jack lent back, his arms crossed. “Some fifteen thousands years ago Chinese nomads
tamed wolves for their own purposes and made them into something we now call dogs.
These dogs, though they have adapted themselves to become domestic, still have the
same instincts as their predecessors, save one, living in packs. They lost the skill to
pack and became a one person’s wolf. A pet dog considers his master as the main man,
the wolf amongst the wolves. He obeys his master unconditionally and is willing to die
for him. He protects him against other pet dogs that aren’t part of his human family.
Even if his master is a brute and mistreats him, he still remains loyal.”
Jack looked at her intensely, waiting for her consent.
“I believe I see what you mean, Jack. You compare our species with pets because we
incline to see ourselves as part of a bigger thing, a system that both protects and feeds
us, and punishes us if we don’t act like we have to according to our rulers.”
‘You’ve got the picture. Why do we fight other humans, why are we so damned loyal
to our masters and even willing to die for the fatherland? Because we’re loyal pets.
Running dogs we are.”
“Quite an interesting point of view, Jack, but you seem to forget there are some dogs
question their master’s behavior when it’s clearly going off the rails.”
He squinted at her, and then fell silent, staring absently in the void, his brain working
at full speed, mulling over every possible angle. Then he made up his mind.
“Right then, I agree we need another approach,” he said. “This way we don’t go
anywhere.”
So far, none of the computer simulations had worked it out. They always stranded on
management conflicts and incorrect approaches. It needed total rethinking.
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It was all a question of variables. You could create the perfect plan, but if the
expected essentials did not come together, it irrevocably folded up.
They both knew the consequences of their selections. They knew the people who
controlled the expedition budgets, were watching over their shoulders, waiting
anxiously for the green light.
“I’m glad you see it that way, Jack, I’ve something in mind that might come as a
shock to you. At least, I hope it will not.”
Jack looked disturbed, knowing the matter was slipping out of his hands, but he was
ready to clutch at straws, even if they came from a person who had written articles in
popular magazines, explaining humankind was a divine gift to the planet Earth.
She felt encouraged by his dithering to go on. “I’ve studied the way you labeled the
settlers, and my conclusion is that you’ve used a method that was guaranteed to fail.”
Before she could go on, he jumped up and paced up and down, his fists clenched.
“First of all, it wasn’t I who went over the selections. It was MEA and those
thickheaded corporate managers who took Mars just another market to conquer.”
“I know what you mean. Nevertheless, the biggest mistake you made was going
along with them.”
He halted before her; his eyes expressing misery and she almost felt compassion with
him.
“What was I to do otherwise? My hands were tight; I wanted to go to Mars so badly;
it was my life’s dream. I was living with my mother; can you imagine? A grown man
howling to the moon.”
Jack was a lapdog. “I know, Jack, don’t feel miserable; you’re not to blame.”
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She was aware he still felt guilt about the previous expedition’s wipe out. All these
years, he had carried that sad load on his shoulders. It was a side of his personality she
had not known before and it explained a lot more of him.
He shook his head vehemently. “You don’t know anything. You don’t know how it
feels when you see everything around you crumbling away and ...”
His voice broke, and then, a mental switch suddenly flipped and he regained his
pose, looking big headed as ever, though he clearly avoided her stare.
She decided she could go on confidently again; more oil on troubled waters would
not affect his behavior.
“You’ve chosen people who would function perfectly by the rules of earthly
standards, but not by Martian standards. You’ve chosen the pet dogs.”
“I’ve pointed that out,” Jack sourly objected.
“You have, but you didn’t come up with a better solution.”
“That was not of my concern, the board people agreed and they seemed to be fitting
at the time.”
“I’ve read the reports. Sixty-five percent of scientists, thirty-four percent of
technicians and managers, and an amazing one percent of what I would define as
creative people. And only twenty three were women.”
“We don’t need artists on Mars, Elisabeth. It’s not like we’re chanting at Hawaiian
sunsets or painting Connecticut blue skies up there. Moreover, you know the risks for
women. But since then we have developed better life circumstances, with no more
perils to ion bombardments then on Earth.”
“Okay, I can buy that, but we don’t want it boobed again, do we.”
Jack had a look on his face that said: why am I wasting my time here? I have better
things to do.
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“So, what’s your proposal then?”
She had made him coping now and she was aware how desperate he must be at this
point of stage, only a couple of weeks away from deadline.
“We need sixty-five percent of creative people instead of academics. And half of
them must be women.”
“Sixty-five? Who is going to run the works? A Martian base cannot survive on
airheads alone. And what do you mean by creative people? Hollywood movie stars?
Monet imitators? Rock bands? Yeah, that’s a dandy idea. We’ll call them the Red Rock
Rovers or something.”
“Nice pun, Jack. We seem to have a different approach to creativeness. What I mean
is people with a strong intuitive sense and mindset. Not people staring at a computer
screen or following textbook instructions. We need people who can solve their
problems using their own insight. We need strong characters who know their own
points of strength and weakness. They must be a sort of self-fulfilling individuals who
can cope with and live in company.”
He gaped at her as if she had suddenly initiated a Navajo rain dance.
“That’s a lot of criteria, Elisabeth. I have my doubts. It’s a nice plan, suitable maybe
to an experimental sociologist, but hardly to survive on a planet like Mars.”
“We need people who can easily transform from Terrans to Martians.”
“Of course, like there’s no evolution design involved. Just plant them on Mars and
watch them grow.”
“You’re a Darwinist, aren’t you? There is a way to get round the evolutionary
process. Why don’t we use dear old Charles himself for it?”
Jack’s attention was stirred now. She had entered a domain he could level with.
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“You mean to say that we should speed up a million years of evolution in a couple of
months?”
“That is what I’m thinking of.”
“And how do you see that happen?”
“First of all we can’t use your databases. We need other criteria than those you’ve
applied on the previous expedition.”
“Okay, I can live with that. The data are obsolete anyway and we don’t have time to
update.”
“Secondly, we want the candidates not to be hand-picked by us but by their own
choice.”
“You’ve got to specify that, Elisabeth.”
“We don’t want to push or pull; they’ll have to come to us of free will.”
“Mmmm, radical point of view. I’m afraid I can’t follow.”
She realized it was hard to explain what she had in mind. When in her teens she was
considered a bit of a rebel who would critically question what she was taught. It was a
rather complicated matter as well. What she was trying to accomplish was to avoid
codes of conduct that worked well on Earth, but would be outlandish on Mars. If
authority, earthly way, would be atop the moment they landed on Mars, social inbreeds
would instantly come to life, and people would adapt to the rules in two shakes of a
lamb’s tail, or trying to disobey them or to adapt their disobedience to what authority
expected them to be and act upon it. Rivalry would arise, class distinctions would be
created and hierarchy would be built up in a matter of days.
In no time, Mars would turn into a failing Earth, all matters she did not want to
happen, not from the foundation on. Darwinism in a broader sense supposed that
communities would start spontaneously, as all life forms did.
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She was not going to explain all of this to Jack. This was not the right time to start
another argument; he would have to find out for himself.
She went on. “For a start, we don’t want to create artificial power structures. We will
let the people decide what and how they want it.”
Jack seemed to weigh the pros and cons, and then suddenly gave in, having found a
way out to his dilemma.
“That’s politics talking now, not my cup of tea, so I don’t want to argue with that.
Just tell me how I get to sell it.”
She let out an inaudible sigh. She was aware he was building up his defense for the
upcoming board of directors meeting and if she could not convince him, he would not
be able to bring management around. She knew that the people who made the decisions
would not put the Martian boots on; they were the ones who stayed behind to count the
money.
Jack’s dilemma was that his mind worked in abstract ways she could not
comprehend; odds were probabilities to him and doubts were patterns in chaos instead
of emotions.
On the other hand, she became aware that, for the first time since they worked
together, they were slowly but surely shaping up into a team and that made her job a
great deal easier.
“I’m glad I have your approval, Jack. By the way, we still don’t have a nice name
for the project. MEA/ExPat2063 is hardly inviting. Why don’t we call it ‘The Darwin
Experiment’? I’ll dedicate it to you.”
Jack weighed her proposition. No doubt, he was flattered and that project name had a
nice ring to him. It let the stage lights shine on him and he would enter the Martian
annals as the one who had made the first real colonization work.
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“I can live with that. Now, give me some data I can feed to the machine.”
“No computer, Jack, remember what I’ve been telling you.”
He still had clearly trouble with the assumption you did not have to use any data
flows.
“But how do you know what kind of profile you want to project?” he protested,
bothered by her puzzling way of thinking.
“Not more than just a few criteria, Jack, so lend me your ear. They are easy to
memorize. You don’t need any computers or mnemonic tricks. It’s just a question of
horse sense.”
“Okay, shoot,” he gave in and leaned grudgingly back.
It was a crucial moment. If he did not agree with her, the whole project could enter
the jeopardizing stage where everything ran into a bottleneck jam with no rescue in
sight. She decided to meet him halfway.
“On the other hand, it might speed up our selection procedures, so, go ahead.”
He sent her a thankful look and grabbed his notebook.
“Now, the first criterion is that all candidates must be Americans.”
He gaped at her. “Americans? We were planning to have an international crew,
Elisabeth, just like the last one.”
“Exactly, just like the last one. Have you ever wondered why it went wrong? Why
the compass rose crashed? We have always considered western values of paramount
importance, more than other cultures. We find it our god given right to tell others what
is good for them. And you assume that with this attitude we can live together in
harmony, if only the others do what we want them to do.”
He kept staring at her. Of course, she was right. He had never thought about it that
way, but ages of western supremacy had put a blindfold on. He had to admit there had
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been too many discrepancies, too many mental and emotional conflict situations caused
by unbridgeable gaps, and while everything came to pieces, he had just buried his head
in the sand. It was a far-fetched criterion though.
“Hang on a minute, you’re telling me that only people with an American ID can
qualify for the job, or should they have had relatives on the Mayflower ship too?”
That was meant to be a lash, but Elisabeth took it seriously.
“First of all, they have to speak English, and I don’t mean the basic twelve words at
the local seven-eleven, but having learned it on their mother’s knee.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we want to take huge laps in time. We want to evolve so fast that we
practically have to recreate our own species on the spot. Americans as we know are less
than five hundred years old. That is the first step we take, the first time warp. But it’s
only five hundred years and we need another thousand or so.”
“Native Americans? I have a hunch you won’t rally a lot of them to go to Mars.”
“No, I mean that all criteria must come together to make one happy population.”
“Now I see. You want it created deliberately. What about kids?”
“No children. They don’t belong on Mars, not coming from Earth anyway. You had
children on your expedition; how did they cope?”
“I don’t recall, Elisabeth, didn’t bother much in any case. They came with their
families and they left with their families; that’s all I can say.”
She did not like the idea of sending young kids to another planet. Their brains were
too vulnerable for cosmic radiation. Furthermore, they developed children’s illnesses
and growing pains. If the settlers were fit to survive on Mars and wanting to pass their
genes on, they would produce offspring on the planet itself and the next generations
would handle the situations their way. She told Jack that and he seemed impressed.
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“You know from your Darwinian lessons that some species become successful,
manage to survive and pass their genes on and create new populations. Therefore, I
figure it’s safer to deal with the reproduction process when we are on Mars. ”
He promptly fed his notebook with some text material.
“Okay, I see your point, next phase?”
“They all have to be middle class.”
Jack lowered his notebook. “You want just middle class? Isn’t that like class
distinction? I mean, that reeks of pretentiousness. I hardly see it happen.”
“Middle class is more willing to radical change. We need people who really want to
volunteer and who are not willing to return to Earth, whatever the personal cost. We
want the immigration stuff that has built America, not the upstarts or the old money. We
want the desperate people who want to make a difference.”
“They lived their life in silent desperation,” Jack muttered, quoting the words of
Thoreau. He was right. Silent desperation was the best definition to sum up this
criterion.
Elisabeth chewed over her own roots, how she had struggled to get higher education,
working her way through while the rich kids had the time of their life and the certainty
they would land up where they belonged. She too had known silent despair.
She knew middle class; she had been one of them, flexible, social, yet independent
and expedient, willing to swim upstream, challenging society’s rules. She would feel
more at ease with her job on Mars if she knew she was surrounded by her own kind.
“Next item, age. I want only mature people, Jack, people who have learned to live,
from the age of twenty-five on.”
She did deliberately not put a maximum age forward. She was forty-five herself, and
she still felt she was in her bloom; it would be incongruous if she would ignore her own
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age. This was a social experiment and she welcomed all the fuel they could lay their
hands on. If someone in his or her seventies or even eighties should want to volunteer,
she would not object either, but of course, that would hardly happen.
She told Jack so.
“I cast doubt on the age issue, Elisabeth, but it’s your turf. Now the key question:
where do you find this kind of people? Do you know where you can press-gang them? I
mean, if you don’t want to use the database. Or did you work out this format from your
own stay on Mars?”
Elisabeth was calling the shots now, so she had to solve the upcoming troubles by
her own, and, from his experience, Jack knew they would show up very soon.
“If you’d read my work, you’d see.”
He obviously had not and by the look of it he was not going to either. It was twenty-
five years ago and a lot had happened since. She was aware that her experience was not
compatible with his. She had been part of a workers society that had to beat around the
clock with no time at all to contemplate. It was similar to working on oil rigs in rough
seas, good pay and no fun. She had been with the first watch, there had been a lot of
others, and in fifteen years time the dome had been completed. Then the first settlers
poured in, with Jack beside the steering wheel. A question popped up in her mind.
“Jack, what happened to the people after they returned to Earth?”
Her unforeseen reaction clearly unnerved him. He shifted in his chair and then
snapped his notebook shut. He stared at the lid with bent head.
“In all fairness, Elisabeth, search me. We all had to sign a confidential agreement
and swear an oath to secrecy and if we would break it, there would be a lot of mess. As
far as I know, they all had gone back to their old lives, or start a new life, or had retired
or are dead by now. And that’s it.”
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His answer did not really satisfy her, or the way he acted, but he still seemed to feel
tight up by professional discretion and therefore she respected his decision to cover it
with the cloak of charity.
She moved to her next criterion. “Oh, a critical one now: we don’t want religious
fanatics on board. I recall you had some – uh - hitches with them.”
“I see… so you don’t want any Christian, Islamic and Jewish fundamentalists. Why
don't we exclude the Afro and Asian population as well, while we are extirpating? Are
you sure that you are not going to introduce Fascism on Mars? Some Nazi’s would be
thrilled. I mean, we can’t exclude essential people simply on behalf of their beliefs.”
“Jack, religion is part of culture, and culture is the last step in human evolution. We
do not want upscale Earth religions on Mars. It has to grow, by sharing the same values
and moral principles; a peaceful, inspired community doesn’t fight over religious
variations; it discovers its own spiritual values.”
Jack had to admit she was right and anyway, religion was not something he was
concerned with. He had erased the image of a divine entity at the age of seventeen and
just like Darwin, he had turned to agnosticism.
“Now, last criterion; How do we make contact? We don’t want to make much fuzz
about it, and people have to be intuitive enough to know where they stand.”
“Putting an ad in the local papers or on TV?”
“Both, I’m sure, and any other medium we can think of. However, the message must
be concealed from its real meaning. I was thinking invitations to a lecture.”
“Uh-huh – lectures… I’m not sure you will get much people on the streets with
lectures nowadays. I know by my own experience nobody likes to sweat some
presentation out, especially when it proves to be futile.”
“Not futile, only a spat of hint that would trigger someone’s mind.”
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“Something like: Darwin – invitation to modern evolution theory?”
“No, that’s not what we want. Too bookish. Those who come must feel invited.”
“Uh, uh – then this, how about: Living on Mars – a new vision.”
“That’s wonderful, Jack. It’s catching, it’s no string attached. That certainly will
fulfill some expectations.”
“Great. Towering and impressive ads?”
“No, as petite as it can be. Just a few lines after the death notices.”
“Appropriate spot, I do declare. Hope you’re not predicting.”
She felt a shiver across her spine, as if his words expressed a hidden dreadful truth.
“And how do you see the presentations going? Shall I make something out on my
computer?”
He sounded so greedy that she could not refuse and he was visibly happy with her
permission.
“But keep it simple; don’t invite them to join us. Just state the facts, how settlement
on Mars has evolved through the years, how it has become possible to survive in
conditions that are actually more preferable than on Earth nowadays. However, don’t
end it with an open invitation. Leave the options open.”
“And how will they be able to get in touch?”
“The presentation host will have a phone number where to reach us. He or she will
simply hand it over and wrap up their gear to hurry down to the next presentation. From
then on, we take over. I mean, I’ll take over, with a small crew. You don’t have to
worry.”
“Much obliged, Elisabeth, so my work is done here as far as I can see.”
“It is, dear Jack. I know John is breathing down your neck. He will need you more
than I do.”
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“What a relief. Frankly, Elisabeth, these settlers are the least thing on my mind. Now
my main concern is how to induce Kovinsky to talk into Bellum and his generous fund
raisers. By the way, just for the tab, I’m working on a test that will provide us with
accurate probabilities and I’m sure they’ll be helpful to you and the project on the
whole.”
She doubted his words very much, but she was pleased he took it so well, so she
decided he could use it on the settlers – after they had been selected.
Jack grabbed his notebook, got up, but stopped halfway his walk.
“Oh, before I forget, Elisabeth, you need a fourth condition.”
“I’m listening, Jack.”
“Choose only city dwellers, urban people.”
“Why?”
“Because they can bear higher dioxide levels then country people.”
Dioxide?
Before she could ask more, he had left and she was alone again. She sighted, again
puzzled by his unexpected turns. She took her notepad and began to scribble.
“Living On Mars – a new vision.
What are the options?
Free lecture at your local community center.
Free snacks and drinks.
Sunday morning at 11 am.”
Then she erased ‘Sunday’. Sunday was too evident. It should be a day that nobody
would feel like going to a boring lecture.
Then she erased some more and read the result aloud:
“Living On Mars – A New Vision.
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A lecture on Monday at your local community center.
$10, 50 entrance fee – bring your own snack and drink.”
That was more alike. Nobody in his right mind would rewrite their agenda; pay ten
bucks and fifty cents only to know what they already knew. No free snack and drinks –
that would keep out the bums as well.
But she didn’t need people in their right minds. She needed something else.
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3.
Linda Hollywood
Linda Hollywood had two abortions before she was twenty-six. She came back from
her dry out with no outlook at all. Hollywood was her true name, and with her rock
band, it was a good name, as if she was born to the stage.
She did not intend to die on it though. After a huge row with her manager, she had
left the band and now she was desperately looking for a new destiny, a new vision in
her life.
She was sitting in a coffee shop, browsing the newspaper’s dead-end jobs section,
when she stumbled upon that tiny ad.
It was as if it had read her mind. A New Vision, it said. Just what she needed.
Though she had an English literature degree, she had never used it and her
knowledge had faded away. In any case, what could you do with Walt Whitman, Emily
Dickinson or Robert Frost nowadays?
She stared outside. The sun was blazing down on the pavement, nobody walking on
foot at this hour.
Linda was an attractive girl, but her life on stage had left its marks. She did not care
about her looks anymore; she let her ginger hair grow wild, covering up an otherwise
perfect face. She was thin, after having lived on dope for months. In the institution, they
had found trouble locating a free spot without heroin puncture marks to feed her with
vitamin shots.
She read the ad more carefully now. They asked ten bucks and fifty cents. What
where they thinking? She had only two hundred dollars worth of savings, enough to
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feed and sleep for a month. Yet, it felt like she was compelled to attend that lecture. It
was Monday morning, and she had always hated Mondays. They were the days after the
booze and the shots and all she could remember were the hangovers and the craving for
more. Usually some jerk was snoring at her side, but she rarely could remember who
they were and how they got into her bed and what they had been doing. They were just
a bunch of worthless freeloaders she kicked out as soon as she was sober again.
Monday was a mountain she had to climb; it rose as high as the skies and when she
finally got to the top, it went right down, and at the foot side, another Monday was
lurking at her. Life was a roller coaster.
Mars seemed to be a nice change to start her Monday. Do something you like to do,
something from a better past. Pick up again. It’s your first rung on the healing ladder.
Maybe the therapists were right; maybe this was her first step. The community center
was just a block away; she could be there before the sun blaze.
The cubs in her ice tea had melted and the drink had become lukewarm. She
reluctantly left the air-conditioned café.
It better be good, she thought.
Dan Pelsmaker
Since years, Dan had serviced his own website, entitled Martian Chronicles &
Almanac. In the heydays, it had some two thousand paying members, but since the last
Mars expedition was over, it had shrunk to less than a hundred.
How time flies, it suddenly crossed his mind. He was thirty-four and unhappily
married. His wife had left him ten years ago for some hotshot commercial pilot, then
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after a month or so came back with her tail between her legs, begging him to forgive
and forget. Which he had done, but the bond was gone.
To the outside, they were still a decent childless couple with two Lakeland terriers.
The sex had gone too, though he did not care anymore. She had castrated him; he knew
he was a poor pitiful two-timed husband, but that was all right with him. They lived
their separate lives, she had a nice job as a flight attendant that took her away for days
on a row and he was working as he did for the last fifteen years, as an assistant manager
in a local bank agency.
Back home he rushed to his computer where he spent his lonely nights looking for
new Martian issues, still working on his website, and occasionally having cyber dates
with no strings attached. It was an immense disillusion after he learnt that the second
Martian expedition had failed. During his marital struggle, he had secretly put forward
his candidacy as a settler, more or less as to get away from the misery, but he was
rejected because of his insufficient qualifications. There were no jobs for bank
managers on Mars.
He was alone in the office, had developed the habit of arriving half an hour earlier to
avoid the traffic jams. He spent it surfing the web and reading his local newspaper on
the screen. He was subscripted to MEA’s newsletter and, to his surprise; they had left a
personal message in his box. It invited him to a lecture on Mars.
A lecture in the civic center? How weird. It was years ago lectures on Mars had been
given there; in fact the last one he had presented himself. He recalled that some fifteen
people had shown up, leaving a financial gap that cured him forever from lectures.
Somehow, it was an intriguing ad. They were smart people too; they charged for it.
They would not want to take any chances. A lecture on Mars and a new vision was
something he could not stay away from. Maybe he would meet some kindred spirits,
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exchange ideas; maybe there was an afterthought debate. Moreover, he could use some
new items to his website as well.
Monday morning. That was today. He would have to get permission to leave before
eleven. His chief was a hard-boiled egg who kicked him around as if he was dirt on the
soles of his shoes. Then he made a decision he would never had made before. He
touched his lucky charm, a key ring depicting a green Martian. He would skip it; he
would go to the lecture. Stuff him and his miserable bank, he said aloud, and he
switched his monitor off.
Jesus Mendez
Enrique Mendez’ grandparents had crossed the US borders on a cold night, climbing
over the fence. They managed to build up a new life, Enrique’s dad as a street vendor,
selling baseball caps, and his mother sewing twelve hours a day in a sweatshop. He
grew up amongst his own kin, learning street credibility, watching his mother die from
cervical cancer, crying for help to the holy virgin. It did not come and they had to pass
the plate around for a decent coffin.
His dad could not cope anymore and returned to his native village at the borders of
the Sonora desert. Enrique stayed behind. He did not know much of Mexico anyway,
and although he had generic Indian features, he was an American kid, loving baseball
and hanging round in malls. At the age of sixteen, they found him a foster home, but he
ran away, joined a local gang, and became a drug runner.
On a Christmas Eve, gang members beat him up. He was so severely knocked out
they had to carry him to the hospital. The nurses on the night shift did not bother much;
they were too busy celebrating. A nun came by and found him on the floor, slowly
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dying from spill of blood. She looked like his mother and somehow there was a sparkle
between them and the nun decided to give him a decent upbringing.
They sent him to a Catholic school and gave him another name, Jesus, and his
natural intelligence caught the attention of diocese scouts who were looking out for
fresh blood. He was sent to a seminary to become a priest.
Unfortunately, it did not work out very well. He was not the type of priest who could
obey orders unconditionally, he could look through the veil and finally he dropped
school. He went back to his old neighborhood, though not to pick up where he had left,
but to start his own religion.
Los Angeles was at that time desperately seeking for spiritual guiding. Jesus had a
good voice and talent for preaching. He knew his stuff and he knew what to preach. He
developed his own religion, a mixture of spiritual ideas he had picked up in the streets.
He wasn’t one of those fanatics and his followers grew exponentially, they spread the
word and soon he had the whole south east in hands. It allowed him to maintain some
status with his own office downtown. He lived together with his young female secretary
– in sin, but that was his own little secret.
Then, it went terribly wrong. The IRS burst in, filing a lawsuit against him for tax
evasion, which he was not aware of. Later on, he learned that both his lawyer and his
accountant had fleeced him.
The lawsuit took the best part of the year, and the rest of his money. He went
bankrupt. He was back where he came from, but this time he was no kid anymore; he
was going on thirty. The only thing he was good in was preaching. He knew he would
be able to preach again, as soon as the storm had passed. He made some phone calls and
soon was offered a minister job in a small congregation up north.
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While preparing for his first session, he was drinking a cup of ice water and reading
the bulletin board messages on the wall.
His eyes fell on the Mars ad. He read it carefully and at the back of his head, he
knew they were going to Mars again; he could read that between the lines. Going to
Mars? Why not? A new start for him, and people needed religion everywhere, even on
Mars, maybe especially on Mars. He would be welcomed as a savior; he would be their
spiritual guide.
I will start my divine work from Mars, he decided. God’s word was valid
everywhere in the universe, where lost souls wandered about.
Margaret Rinsford
Margaret Rinsford read the invitation over and again. She was sitting on her
screened-in porch bench of her termite bitten country house some twenty miles from
Louisville, Kentucky, where she bred stallions for the Derby.
She lived on her army pension, as a retired Colonel, after having served her country
for twenty-three years on many battlefields. Then, she got a nervous breakdown. She
had invited her local TV-station to express her grieves over the course of politics and
how the military was misused for the sake of the mighty dollar.
Her superiors did not like what they heard and they sacked her, demobilized her, as it
read in her discharge papers, and now they wanted her back, or rather some proclaimed
person with the initials ‘J.A.H.’, in charge of the MEA Promotion Campaign, who
invited her to a lecture on Mars. She did not know what to do with it. Her first reaction
was to burn the letter. But then again, they must have a good reason to have her on their
list, and her curiosity won over.
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She was forty-four, single and she was on the brink of becoming a hermit; she had no
relatives or friends from the service. She was alone with her horses and in time she
would be forgotten all over and maybe she would die on her porch from heartache, left
for days before anyone would notice. Her eyes wandered about the house, that beaten
old retreat she called home, and for the first time she looked at it from a different
perspective. The army had been her home and she was still longing to take up her old
life again, even if it would take her into space.
She had about an hour left to attend the presentation. She put her cap on, said
goodbye to her horses and climbed in her old army SUV.
While she was driving on the dirt road, it came to her mind that Mars was not only
the red planet, but also the name of the Roman war god. Was that not a strange
coincidence at all?
Pete Murray
Pete found the invitation in his mobile mailbox, redirected by one of his customers
who for some unknown reason thought it might interest him. She probably was thinking
she was doing a favor for the lonesome old bachelor.
Mars? When he was eight, they had started the first phase to colonize the planet.
Every eighteen months new shipments of workers would leave Earth to replace the
builders on Mars. The facility was completed the year he got married. Somehow, it had
been a trigger to step into the mobile commercials. He held a telecommunication degree
and was soon producing flashy, five to sixty seconds of commercials sent out to
mobiles, and ever since, he had done nothing else.
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Though he was good at his job, mastering it completely, he was perfectly aware of
the futility of it, the strained truths and hidden lies that came with it. His wife left him
when she heard he was more then good friends with his assistant. To make matters
worse, she sued him for alimony and he lost the house and everything with it. He
became a cropper, drank heavily, passed some time with the AA and gradually took up
his life again. That was the time the first real colony on Mars swung in action. Come to
think of it, his life seemed to be in cohesion with the red planet.
He read the message again. It invited him to a lecture downtown. What a strange
coincidence… Somehow, this meant something and he was determined to go after the
truth.
That Monday morning, he drove his car up the freeway and switched to the baseball
channel. He listened with half an ear to the sports results. He passed one of those fenced
new refugee camps that grew like fungus all over the country. Economical refugees they
called them. When he was a kid they were called climate victims and before that
political asylum seekers.
He pulled over to a gas station to fill up. While he was tanking, a girl came up to
him.
Sharon Winslow
She was about twenty-five, had a headset on and wore a Peruvian earflap hat. Pete
could distinctly hear the music beat from ten yards away. She wore an earth colored
cotton shirt and jeans and moved supply and well conceited.
“Excuse me, mister; are you heading for the city? I could use a hike, if that ain’t too
much asked.”
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She had a pleasant voice, sang with a slight southern accent.
“No problem.” Pete said. His heartbeat accelerated. He got in a flurry with her direct
approach and at the same time he was irritated with himself. Usually he was more
quick-witted.
She sat in the co-pilot seat, crossed her legs and leaned back relaxed, as she was used
to hike her way around.
“I’m Sharon, what’s yours?”
“Pete.”
“Hi, Pete.”
Again, he was not able to show more cleverness and it annoyed him so much that he
was not aware he was passing the speed limit before he knew.
“I’m not in a hurry, Pete,” she said in an amused voice.
“Sorry, I just – I have to be in time for my lecture.”
That came out before he knew. Somehow, he wanted to make some impression on
the girl.
She took him in. He was sort of handsome, with his straw blond curly hair and gray
eyes, but he did not look a happy guy.
“What a coincidence, I’m off to a lecture too. About Mars.”
He threw a quick glance to her. Could it be? He asked her where it was. It was the
same lecture all right. Mars had struck again.
Two based hit. Maybe his luck was turning for the best. He asked her how she had
learned the news.
She tapped with her index finger on her ear caps. She kept the music on, but had
lowered the sound.
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“The radio guy. I won this contest about some rock band. The price was the entrance
fee. Just ten dollars and fifty cents, but I was going to the city anyway, so I might as
well attend that lecture. I’d like to go to Mars someday.”
Pete was surprised. How much luck a guy can get? “As a matter of fact, so do I.
Maybe we could travel together,” he airily proposed, mentally crossing his fingers.
“That would be marvelous, Pete. I don’t like to travel alone.”
Was she fooling him around? He felt his blood suddenly rushing. She was not that
young and he was not that old, and it had been some time since he had been with a girl.
“That’s a deal, Sharon.” He held out his hand and they shook on it.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked, just to keep the mood going.
“Oh, about everywhere,” she vaguely replied, putting some more mystery on her
person.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked again.
“I’m a counter-assistant, but my real dream is becoming a garden designer. I like
working in gardens. Do they have gardens on Mars?”
“I believe they do, maybe you’re the one they’re looking for,” he said and at the
same time, he cursed himself for giving her false hopes.
“What do you do for a living?” she echoed him.
“I’m a TV-producer,” he lied. He felt an overwhelming need to make an impression
on her.
“Oh, that’s great.” She looked out the window, clearly not much interested in show
biz.
“Let’s talk about our future over a glass of juice,” he proposed.
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“Okay, thanks, much obliged.” She looked more cheerful now and he was thankful
she had accepted his invitation so straightforwardly and without second thoughts. Home
base. He owed Mars one.
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4.
Elisabeth hated the part that involved the launching from Earth. She vividly recalled
the first time, how nauseated she had been all the way. The nerves and a weak stomach
had played badly on her. She had even managed to throw up in her helmet, nearly
choked in it, a horrible experience she willingly had shut out from her mind. However,
her fears turned out to be groundless as space technology had changed a lot since then.
The previous clumsy astronaut suits were not in use anymore; they had to climb in
some sort of water-protected coracle and they were injected with a harmless
tranquilizer. It made them pass out and float on sweet dreams up to the moment they
were about to land on the Wheel, the pet name for ISS 3, the international space station
that was orbiting the Moon at about three hundred kilometers.
Still dazed, they were cared about by PR-staff who shepherded them to their
quarters. The space station drifted in a geodetic path facing America’s astounding land
imagery. In the recreation hall, several powerful telescopes processed their pictures to
personal monitors and you could pick out your favorite spots; you could zoom into a
hundred meters and follow people the way you look at ant colonies. It was a highly
comfortably place to be. It was amusing to watch her students walk up to the
classrooms while she was in the station and sipping from a banana shake goblet.
In a month, they would be heading for the red planet when launching conditions
were good.
They had managed to collect the two hundred fifty chosen ones in due time,
unexpectedly thanks to Jack’s database, she had to admit. It had allowed her to
eliminate drastically the few unwanted variables that had slipped through the process.
For instance, a few candidates had conditioned backgrounds, such as lawyers, authority
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figures, some rich and famous, the sponges, and the careerists who looked upon it as a
next move. They were not many of them, frankly spoken. The American elite were at
ease with their present lives.
To her surprise most candidates turned out to be whites, though America had
changed dramatically over the last decennium. Whites had become a geographic
minority, despite the fact that they still made up the most populated one. She could only
assume that a lot of white Americans had lost their mental connection with their nation
and preferred a new life on a rigid outer world where they were not confronted with
their loss of social power. Racial wars on Mars would be the ultimate nightmare and
again, Jack’s lists came in handy again, as she could swiftly eliminate the racists.
John Kovinsky had come to terms with the board of directors, which to Elisabeth’s
astonishment had unanimously agreed with her unconventional scheme. Now, it was up
to her to demonstrate her plan come up to their expectations.
Management had two names added on the settlers’ list, a high ranked reserve officer
called Margaret Rinsford, and a former Mars expedition candidate, Dan Pelsmaker. She
did not know what to make out of it. Presumably, they had found it necessary to have
their own choices incorporated. What the hack, she could have known they would add
some of their own favorites; there were no free lunches.
On the other hand, she had to admit they had unconditionally carried out most of her
demands and wishes, so why should she lose any sleep over it.
She made several long distance calls with her son Albert, who was still working on
ISS 4, the other Wheel that was orbiting Mars. He seemed keyed up with the idea of
going to Phobos. There, he would work for a year or maybe more, gathering rock
samples in search of new energies, alternated by short breaks on the Wheel. She was
relieved he was okay and satisfied with his life. She asked herself if he had a girl friend
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already, though his job was so demanding that he hardly found the time to settle down,
and anyway not much decent girls were available in space.
She would not reflect on how he dealt with his sex life. Most workers in space took
medication to suppress their sex drives and masturbation was highly recommended. She
had learned a lot about sexual conditions on the first expedition and she was forced to
accept Freud’s libido theory. Humans followed the rules of life everywhere they went,
even on a rough place like Mars.
She recalled that, after a lot of strain had materialized resulting in blowouts and
outbursts, management had been bulldozed into letting prostitutes in, the first hookers
in space. They had to build secluded spots for the worker’s needs. That was a decision
made off the record and still known to few people. To the public the space workers
were a breed of super beings with no need for sex and totally dedicated to their tasks of
creating new worlds.
The first settlers would arrive in a week, so she had to prepare for their coming,
make them at ease and find out about their needs. Jack hadn’t shown up since they had
landed, but at this point, she didn’t need him anyway. He was too busy with his science
club as she was with her lab rats. She tried to ignore that word, but it kept rambling on
her mind. They really were guinea pigs in a way; they were her own creation and she
felt personally responsible for them. Sometimes she envied Jack; he did not have to go
over people.
Since decades, the Moon had turned into an extensive work camp that covered some
quarter of its surface and still expanding. The works, mines and mills were property of
an international consortium, paid by the major enterprises, also know as the Big Five,
and they made good use of it. The labor was done by automated remote controls from
the Wheel, the digging and the collecting of helium 3, an isotope needed for
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thermonuclear power stations. The lunar bowels had so much of it that they could
provide Earth with a thousand years of energy, unlike the hydrocarbon reserves that
were running out at an alarming speed.
If anything like the Wheel’s conditions exists on Mars, life will be much easier than I
expected, she said to herself, while writing in her log. They had assured her it was even
better.
From her window, she could see the short burning fuses of cargo ships lifting off or
landing down, an endless stream of shuttles and space liners traveling between Earth,
the Moon and the space station. It was all so impressive and it blew her mind, like
everyone who had their first glimpse on the Moon. It was rather creepy to see the bustle
without hearing anything, so different from Earth.
Far away, in their own orbits, several high-class corporate hotels held their jet set
parties and the fairy-tale sight of thousands of colorful lights shone brilliantly from the
floating islands. On Mars, fun was not an option. First, you had to live underground
because of these dreadful ray bombardments. In the early days of exploration, most
astronauts suffered from both mental and physical degeneration, and were not able to
produce offspring anymore, and with female astronauts, it was even worse. They got
deformed babies, misfits to Earth’s view of nature. However, they had assured her that
they had properly taken care of all these issues.
Some days later, just before the settlers’ arrival, Kovinsky paid her a visit while she
was working at her desk. He sat opposite and watched her conclude the report. He had
taken in the familiar imprint and produced a tight little smile.
“So, what’s your decision, Elisabeth? Are you going to present a first-rate report to
the President?”
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She felt put off, as he was not supposed to know about her confidential files, but on
the other hand, he would know everything about her.
“It’s for my own purpose, John, no big deal, just describing my first impressions.”
That’s what I want him to think.
He looked content with the answer. “You don’t mind me smoking? I’m about to quit
before we take off.”
“Not at all, go ahead.”
He lit up a butt and watched thoughtfully the smoke spiraling up the ceiling and
sucked up by the air shaft.
“So, tell me, what’s your opinion of Jack?” he all of a sudden asked.
She decided to leave her options open. She did not know Kovinsky that well beside
his job as project manager, but she knew how close he stood to Bellum.
“I don’t know, John. What do you want me to tell you about Jack?”
“Come on, Elisabeth. You must have made up your mind. He’ll be working with you
at close hand; you’ll be hand in glove so to speak.”
That was an image she did not like much, though it made her face the facts and of
course he was right. Suddenly she was aware that, in a few weeks, her life was going to
change dramatically.
Kovinsky seemed to notice her reluctance.
“Jack’s a good guy, he’ll do his job, and you’ll do yours. Nevertheless, you’ll have to
meet from time to time, and the President has proposed I’ll keep him informed about
your teamwork’s progress. So, do me a favor and tell me if you have objections
working with Jack. Don’t worry, I’ll be asking Jack the same question.”
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Well, what could she tell him about Jack? Since they had taken different routes, life
had become so much easier for her without him breathing down her neck, but on the
other hand, eventually she was bound to need him for his expertise.
“He’s alright, John. We’ll see how things work out once we’re on Mars.”
His lips split in a brief smile in response to her vague diplomacy. “Okay, we’ll leave
this until we really set off. I really hope you and me and Jack will be working just fine
together.”
After he had left, she was left puzzled. What did he meant by that remark? Did he
expect trouble? Of course, there would be some rumble, maybe more than she could
anticipate, but things were not in their hands anymore.
It was in God’s hands, she said to herself, and looking out the window into that deep,
black and cold space, she was not sure it was just a metaphor.
To entertain herself, she switched the closed circuit television on to watch a long-
winding ode to the Wheel’s management. The narrator, some hero from an old space
serial, spoke in a firm voice about the sense of leadership. He was clearly adulating his
employers and she switched off again.
Kovinsky had asked her to pick potential group leaders. She had to figure out how to
merge their differing opinions about leadership. To Kovinsky, a good leader was able to
motivate his subjects beyond their duty and take the credit for it. She wanted leadership
to develop spontaneously, but he wanted the standing out ones. Her choices had at first
sight not much in common, not according to the familiar definition of leadership. There
was a bond though: they ware all detached, had no partner or no lasting love affair, and
they had shown they were free spirits with creative skills.
The first one was Jesus Mendez, a self-declared preacher, who seemed to have lived
the life of a devil’s advocate. Though she was reluctant about religious leaders, he
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would certainly know how to motivate people and that could be of tremendous value if
things were not going her way. And anyway, he wasn’t part of the established religions
and might break fresh ground and that’s what they needed in the first place.
It was the same with the others. Linda Hollywood, an ex-junkie, but one who had
filled concert halls with worked-up fans. Pete Murray, who knew the nuts and bolts as a
commercial producer and then there was Sharon Winslow. Elisabeth was not sure why
she had picked her out; it was more gut feeling but then again, nothing in this
expedition showed much of rationale. Maybe it was because Sharon reminded her of
herself. She too had to knock her way in; she too knew how hard life could be.
Suddenly, the screen flashed on to show Jack’s face. He had a bemused look in his
sad eyes. She remembered his physiological reactions to space travel, which were even
worse then hers.
“Elisabeth, are you there?” His voice sounded stingy. She turned the camera towards
her own face.
“I’m here, Jack. How are you doing?”
“Feel like horse shit. John told me he had been at your place. He kind of ordered me
to come over to you to discuss matters.”
Discuss matters? What’s up now? His visible conceit towards her and her job
showed even on the two-dimensional image.
“What’s so important I’ve got to drop what I’m working on?” She knew she sounded
goaded, but he might start to show some respect if they would become partners as
Kovinsky had in mind.
Jack softened up. He drew a face that meant to be jovial.
“John wants us to work closer, now that we’re on our way.”
“How close does he mean?”
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“Listen, Elisabeth, it’s not easy for me either. You know I have my own
commissions and we both can’t waste time on high jinks.”
High jinks? What was that supposed to mean? She restrained, realizing this was Jack
and the fact he was a kind of genius – she had only recently learned he had been
member of the Princeton Institute of Advanced Theories - did not make it easier for him
either. He was a lonesome kid on a golden throne in an ivory tower.
“All right then, come over and tell me about your jinks, but I’m in the middle of the
selection completion, and I’d like to wrap it up tonight.”
“No sweat, Elisabeth, I won’t take much up of your time, or mine.”
He cut off and Elisabeth stared at the galaxy pictures that had popped up on the
screen again.
There is something fishy going on, she said aloud. He had made her probing and she
could not concentrate on her work again. She knew he was lodged at the other end of
the accommodation facilities, and even with those jocular electric cars it would take him
half an hour or so.
She decided she might as well fix up. She took a hot shower and had a quick check
on her looks. She let her hands wander over her breasts.
“I’m still looking good,” she said to herself with approval. Then she stared to her
face in the mirror and said aloud, ‘Oh my God, I’m not thinking of…’ She felt upset.
She was ten years older than Jack, and frankly, she was fed up with all that razzmatazz
with men. How long had it been since she had slept with a man? Ten, fifteen years?
Was she turning into an old and bitter, grumpy old woman? She had been so much
absorbed with her work and the fact that she was a teacher did not trigger any better
chances to meet an interesting man.
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She dressed up casually, a wool mark sweater and white cotton trousers. With her
short cut mahogany hair and her boyish look, she could pass for a much younger
woman.
“I don’t know,” she said aloud again. She was talking to herself lately, which was
not a good sign if you had to live with two hundred and fifty people in a pillbox. But
weren’t they all in some way a bit wacky? Nobody in his right mind would barter Earth
for Mars. Our species was born on and shaped by Earth and had nothing to do with
other planets.
Nonetheless, here she was, unwillingly trying to look seductive and waiting for a
younger man and realizing how fast life whooshed by.
He dropped in and though he still had that foggy look on his face, he was enough
heads-up to notice an Elisabeth he had not seen before.
“You seem to acclimatize well here,” he said in a gruffly voice, looking away and
she took that as a compliment.
“Sit down, Jack, want a cup of fresh coffee?”
“I wouldn’t mind if I do, Elisabeth. I can use some perking up right now.”
“Still recovering from the trip?” She pushed some buttons, took two cups of great
smelling coffee brew from the machine, and handed one over to Jack. It was as if they
had never parted.
She sat in her coach, snuggled up, and she realized that Jack did not look upon her as
the old and stuffy teacher and she felt good about it.
“I hate space travel,” he said. “It’s bad for my asthma.”
“I sympathize with you, Jack, but can we get down to business now? I don’t like all
that hole-and-corner affairs. We’re not like invading Mars if I’m right.”
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Jack put his cup down. He conjured a black metal pencil shaped device, put it on the
table and shoved it cautiously to her. He downed his voice.
“There are hidden cameras and microphones about, Elisabeth. This gimmick
scrambles whatever we’re talking about.”
Cameras? She felt nauseated, thinking of her nakedness in the bathroom. “Are you
saying they spy on me wherever I go?”
“Don’t be daft, Elisabeth. It’s only in your living room and just for safety reasons;
you might have a heart attack or something. Everything you don’t say can’t be hold
against you, and anyway, it’s just sensors picking up distressing signals. A lot of people
here can’t cope with spatial environments and with every new payload we have some
stiffs.”
“You mean you have corpses around here?” A shiver ran down her spine. The
notion of living next to dead bodies in a huge space coffin was something from a horror
tale.
“Of course not, well, not for long. As soon as the next shipment comes in, they’ll be
taken back to Earth.”
“Why are they dying? Is it the working conditions?” Her psychological trained brain
turned in overdrive. She wouldn’t dream of having to face such matters of life and death
on Mars.
Jack looked blankly over her shoulders. He shrugged as to show this talk was not one
he liked to chew on.
“Partly working conditions, partly mental troubles, I guess. Usually they don’t
anticipate what they’re about to bump on. We have to fetch workers where we can find
them; people are not so keen on working in space nowadays. We have to pull them over
with big bucks and the thrill of adventure, and lure them with half-truths.”
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“So, you’re saying there’s a high suicidal rate here?”
He shrugged again. “That you can find out yourself, you’re the shrink.”
Of course, she could do that, but she had never bothered with mortality rate before,
and yet this was reality too. More and more it looked like this was not going to be a
walk in the park.
Suddenly, he stooped over to her and looked conspiring. “I want you to watch my
back once we’re on Mars,” he mumbled. She spotted traces of fear in his features.
“Go on.”
“With the previous expedition, I had – uh – some issues adapting to the situation. I
mean, mentally. I’d like you to warn me if I’d start to act like I – uh – I’d be off the rails
at some point.”
“Are you having second thoughts of going to Mars?”
“No, no, not at all, it’s just – well, I was younger then, now I’m ten years older, and
there’s a good chance I’ll be less able to adapt.”
Ten years older, but compared to me, he’s just a tot. So much for the sex, he was not
going to declare his covert passion to her; he just wanted her to be his hen. On the other
hand, it took a lot of her strain away, as they could go along like two fellow-sufferers
and that was good enough for her.
She started to judge him in a motherly way. “Don’t worry, Jack, I’ll see to you. After
all, it’s my function and reason to be on Mars.”
He nodded, now looking like a heavy weight had dropped off. He stood up and
smiled, and this time it was straight as a die.
“Right then, I’ll leave you be. I will tell John we had a great conversation, and the
skies are clear.”
“That’s okay, Jack. I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”
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“You may keep the scrambler, Elisabeth. It might come in handy when we’re on
Mars.”
Before she could ask him why, he was gone.
She drew another cup of coffee and mused upon their talks. All of a sudden, he
seemed to see her in a different light, and it shone friendly on her. She pondered over
his remarks. Was there something with Mars she was not supposed to know of?
Anyway, she would soon find out…
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5.
Linda Hollywood could still not believe she was actually going to Mars. Everything
in her life had turned into helter-skelter since she had decided to attend the presentation
matinee. She had rang these people up and two days later, there was the interview with
an elderly lady in a fancy hotel downtown Washington D.C. – all expenses paid for -
who did not seem really interested whom she was and why she wanted to go to Mars in
the first place. Suddenly, she found herself to be one of the candidates and from then
one, things got out of hands; it wasn’t her life anymore; an organization behind the
screens had taken over.
The briefing had been so short that at first she was convinced they were pulling her
legs, but suddenly there she was, in one piece in the space station, and preparing for the
ultimate jump into the void.
She stared out of the window in the room that she shared with nine others, looking at
the bright lights of the hotels and discotheques floating between Earth and the Wheel.
Her empty life had far gone now and she felt she was entering a new phase and her
future looked as bright as those fun places outside.
Let them have their kicks; she said to herself, while turning away from the window.
She somehow felt pity with them.
Someone was blocking her way, had been standing behind her for a while. It was a
middle-aged woman she had seen at the training sessions, which, by the way, were
nothing more then a set of simple physicals.
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She had long dark-brown hair lined with silver stripes. She could have been pretty if
she had not that tense look that hardly invited you to come over for small talk at the art
gallery exhibition.
“You’re Linda, am I right?”
Her voice had a harsh undertone, but contradicted with her laughing eyes and for a
brief moment, Linda had a flashback to her youth, with her aunt who had raised her
after her mother had left her for the madhouse. Aunt was a correct but strict woman, not
a person to fool with.
“Yes, uh - I’ve seen you at the briefing.”
“Oh sorry, my name is Marge. Margaret Rinsford actually, but that’s not important
anymore as they’ve told us.”
Marge seemed to long for a chat and Linda invited her to the cafeteria for freshly
squeezed lemon juice, which Margaret did not turn down.
While they were sipping their drinks, Linda said that it struck her that so many
seemed to be randomly selected.
“I know and I don’t have an answer really,” Marge answered. “Frankly, I can’t see
anyone around here who’d fit the profile I would choose for a stay on Mars. Have you
seen any scientist or wiz kid around?”
“Maybe they’re in another program and they’re sitting at the other end of the
Wheel.”
Margaret shook her head. “No, not at the other end; it’s only workers there and they
don’t mingle with settlers as far as I know.”
“It’s weird,” Linda said. She flashed a smile at her. “But hey, who am I kidding here,
I really want to live on Mars, believe it or not. How about you?”
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Margaret seemed to find it a tricky question. She put her glass down to stare at the
muted music channel on the wall screen.
“It’s odd alright. They all want to be on Mars but no one seems to have the proper
qualifications. What do they expect from us? That we sit on our butt and do nothing, or
take over the astronauts’ jobs?”
“I don’t mind sitting on my butt all day,” Linda said. “It would be a nice change for a
start.”
Margaret threw a sharper look on Linda, seemed to see her in a different daylight.
“You’re young, you can steal time, but I’m living on borrowed and I don’t want to
waste it looking all day to the Milky Way.”
Linda sensed something she wisely did not go into. If Marge wasn’t so keen on
spending her life on Mars, why in the first place had she volunteered?
Margaret wrapped up the subject. “Oh well, we’ll see, won’t we.”
Linda struck another cord. “Have you noticed that men and women are equally
proportioned? I mean, it’s a fifty-fifty situation if I’ve counted right.”
“I know, and it struck me too. It reminds me of the pioneer days.”
“Wagon trails and Indians.” Linda laughed at the idea.
“Sort of. Maybe this time it will turn out better then the last one.”
“You mean the last expedition? I wonder what went wrong then. It didn’t go well,
did it?”
“Maybe they’ve come to recognize the importance of female presence.”
“Girl power.” Linda smiled.
Margaret got up, faintly smiling. “That’s it. I like that, girl power. We should stick
together in case, you know. Anyway, thanks for the drink; they sure know how to make
juice around here. I hope we’ll have them on Mars too.”
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After she had left, Linda sat back to wonder about Marge. She was a strange woman,
not really the stuff you would spend with in a secluded setting like a Martian base. She
seemed to be the oldest one too at first glance, but then again, that might be an asset.
Pete Murray had looked for Sharon Winslow since they were split into smaller
groups. He found out she stayed on the fourth deck - while he had his room on the
second – and that she attended the Galaxy Café where everybody met. He sat there
patiently, drinking a lot of fake espresso coffee and trusting he would meet her sooner
or later. The next day he was lucky; people poured out of the elevator and she was one
of them, with a guy at her side. She spotted him and smiled, looking like the prom
queen.
The other guy was about her age, at least younger then he was, and they seemed to
enjoy their company well. Pete was eaten up by jealously, but he managed to keep it
cool.
“Hi Pete, glad to see you again and where are you staying?”
Her voice was light and pleasant and she did not seem to suffer from the artificial
gravity and the artificial oxygen.
‘Oh, hi, Sharon. I was just having a coffee, didn’t know you were staying on this
deck.”
He just could not stop lying to her. His eyes ran over the other person. The kid
seemed just one of them, that bunch of youngsters who instantly flocked together at the
briefing center, in a kind of animal reaction. Was he banging her?
“This is Jason. He’s Canadian. He works here. You know, he has been an extra in
Terror in Space Part Two. Jason, this is Pete, he’s a TV producer, and maybe he’ll
shoot a movie while we’re on Mars.”
Jason had so many teeth that his smile nearly covered the lower part of his face.
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“I’m not really making space war movies, Sharon, “he replied in a pretended
aggrieved voice.
She laughed aloud and Jason grinned; they seemed to take it as a good joke.
So far for my miserable go at the girl, Pete thought. It was like that since they first
met at the gas station. Why couldn’t he be the smooth guy he really was?
“Why don’t you stay with us, Pete? We’re going to have some fun at the
Discotheque.”
She had put her question deliberately and it sounded like a polite invitation with no
string attached, but to him it sounded promising, if he just could get rid of Mister
Sunshine here.
The Discotheque was a zero gravity disco where you could float around while
drinking from a straw and moving at ear deafening music. Before it became a meeting
place, it had been an experimental gravitation lab. Since it was located in the central
hub, gravity was only fifty percent and so ideal for testing procedures. After the testing
was over, some caterer rented the lab and turned it into a fun place for the jet set.
With the arrival of the space hotels and their own playgrounds, the Discotheque was
turned back to the mining company and now the workers made great use of it. It was
not really something for a man of his age, but it tickled Pete’s vanity that Sharon still
saw him of as a part of her crowd.
They headed towards the shaft where automated four-person buggies were waiting
for them, to carry them to the discotheque. They climbed in a waiting car. Pete took the
backseat and while driving across the pipe shaped spoke, their speed increased and the
wall lights became stroboscopic. Pete closed his eyes, feeling he was getting
claustrophobic.
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“Don’t be afraid, Pete, we’re safe here. I’ve been doing this trip a hundred times
before.”
That was Jason speaking to him, his blond hair flapping like a sail. Pete opened his
eyes. The Canadian was sitting in front next to Sharon, his arm around her shoulder.
Sharon had the time of her life and screamed her lungs out.
“You have?” Pete managed to utter. He clanged to the safety bar with his knuckles
turned white.
“After work I go to the disco to let the steam off. It’s no big deal once you’ve got the
knack of it.”
They slowed down and Pete felt the decreasing gravity in full swing. He was ever so
light and climbing out of the car, his legs doubled up and made him stumble and fall.
Jason caught him in his muscled arms. Pete felt like a sissy.
“It’s still about sixty percent, Pete, so you better get used to it. We’ll proceed now to
the adaptation zone, where we’ll dress up.”
Jason led them to a corner where they were dressed in fluorescing anti-shock play
suits and they had to put football helmets over their heads. Sharon chose a yellow red
striped suit. Jason had his own locker and had a white one that made him look like a
revenging angel, and Pete had reddish-orange stripes that made him look like a walking
Popsicle.
Jason told them it was safety measures to prevent them being hurt in that zero-five-g
as he called it.
He was right. The moment they entered the Discotheque, which turned out to be a
huge bluish illuminated cathedral, gravitation dramatically dropped and Pete started to
lose his balance again. The more he tried to control himself, the worse it got. He was
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tumbling on and off like a yoyo and he heard Sharon screaming with excitement while
he helplessly tried to regain his stance. He never felt so humiliated in his life.
Then Jason came to his rescue again. He put Pete on his feet and led him on like he
was his dancing partner. Sharon seemed to do better, though she clutched tightly to the
wall grips. There were not many she-bangers around as it was still early. Music was
loud and seemed to float along with them. Soon Sharon and Jason were dancing
together smoothly like butterflies in love while Pete was still trying to put his feet where
they belonged.
Some people were climbing up the dome like radiating spiders; others were dancing
in the air, hovering graciously and at the face of it, completely in harmony with their
environment. It was a beautiful sight, all those glittering outfit floating, jumping and
sticking to the walls. At the far end, flashing fluorescent laser light produced the words
Newton rules.
Pete cheered himself up, thinking that his newfound low gravity expertise would
give him a head start on Mars, where they would land in zero-three-g.
Dan Pelsmaker was walking on air too. At last, his dream had come true. He was a
Martian settler now. Every weight had fallen off his shoulders and he felt a young man
again. His whole attitude was altering dramatically, his walk was brisk, and his brain
revived that sealed spot where he stored his wit and bravura. He liked everyone and
everything around here. The Wheel was not a space station to him, but his gateway to
paradise.
He did not ask himself if he had made the right decision. Of course, he had; he had
been making it for the last decade. He had given up on everything, not like some others
who still clung to their souvenirs from their earthly past. No sir, he would stay here
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whatever the cost. As far as he was concerned, he had done with Earth. He caressed his
lucky charm.
There was yet another man who shared his vision. Jesus Mendez was not used to the
magnetic shoes and Dan caught him just in time before his knees buckled.
“That’s a bitch, that low gravity; do you know they use only eighty-four percent of it
to save energy?” Dan said, while they took cautious steps up the alley to the third deck
bistro.
“It’s nothing compared to Mars,” Mendez replied, regaining his dignity.
“You bet. I really hope that training will match what they’ve promised. I don’t want
to spend the rest of my life drifting up and down in a fish tank.”
Dan threw a squinting look at Mendez. He was some years younger, but not that
much. He had the appearance of a priest.
They decided they liked each others company and sat together in the Café, eating the
special diet food that the expedition people had prepared for them. In space, your bones
and joints had a lot to suffer and so, their diet was calcium enriched, consisting of a
range of yogurt, greens, broccoli, sardines, canned salmon, dried beans and peas, and
tofu and the drinks were calcium-fortified juices.
Between two bites Dan asked Mendez’ motivation to go to Mars.
Mendez finished his juice before answering the question. It was a tricky one; he
could not just say, well, Dan, I’m going to save our souls on Mars, and maybe you will
be the first to hit the jackpot. Instead, he just said he had no other place to go, an answer
that was so funny that Dan burst in laughter and forgot about it.
Mendez didn’t see the funniness. He really had no place to go; he did not want to end
up in a godforsaken hole preaching to sweaty fat women about hell and heaven.
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“I’m fed up with my life on Earth too,” Dan confessed. Mendez was a good listener.
Dan told him about the emptiness of his life. He had been mistreated and he deserved
better. He was an expert on Martian issues, for Chrissake. They could surely use a man
like him on Mars.
Mendez did not see a man with a mission. He just saw a happy-go-lucky brat on a
Honolulu beach. With his dreamy blue eyes and his suave manners, Dan would not last
a day in the streets of south-east L.A.
“Do you believe that God has created Mars, Dan?”
That question came bold from the blue. Dan gaped at him, forgetting he had soy
cheese on the lips.
“Why do you say so? If you’re the religious type, you believe in God and therefore
you believe He has created everything on Earth and in heaven.”
“But do you believe it, Dan?”
Dan looked away. He had ignored God’s existence. God had abandoned him, and
with or without Him, his life had been a mess all around. But Mendez looked so
authoritative and willing to start a word battle that he decided to play along.
“Actually I do, Jesus, but He’ll have to show me He’s worth to believe in.”
Dan’s reaction surprised Mendez. It was the first time someone dared him that God
had to prove Himself. If they all were like Dan, Mendez would have to use another
visionary approach to the settlers. On Earth, God was everywhere, in the skies, on the
lands, in the seas. On Mars, there would be nothing to remind them of His presence.
God was on Mars, but Mars had to be convinced, and that was a challenge Mendez was
thrilled to accept.
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6.
“Okay crew, it’s time.”
The wake-up call shook her instantly back to reality. Elisabeth had been dreaming of
green soft sloping pasture hills, Minnesota lambs grazing peacefully under a blue
unclouded sky. She opened her eyes and looked dizzily to the ceiling, a dull gray
painted metal case with an air-cooled hole and sprinklers, not the best place to land up
after you have been strolling across the meadows.
The voice was Kovinsky’s, coming from the intercom.
She shook the blanket off, rested for a couple of seconds at the side of her berth to
adjust to gravity again, and walked to the bathroom to have a shower. The water stream
perked her up. It was recycled water, so she had been told. Once drunk, it became urine
and at the end, it was transformed by a hydrolytical process into oxygen and shower
liquids. The Russians had developed the method a long time ago when they built the
first space station. Though it was drinkable, she tried to shun it instinctively.
As agreed upon, they met half an hour later in the briefing room that was empty
otherwise. They had a work breakfast with toast and scrambled eggs and the brew
known as ‘coffee’, while Kovinsky was going over the last details before lift-off to their
next destination, ISS 4.
He did not have to tell them any new issues; everything imperative had repeatedly
been said over and again. The whole procedure was etched in their brains. They were
ready to go.
Kovinsky and Jack would set off first with a lot of equipment to prepare for the
arrival of the first party of settlers. A week later, just before their launching windows
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closed up again, the settlers would follow. Elisabeth was to go with the first settlers’
ship and she had the privilege to pick out whom she would fly with.
First, they would hibernate on ISS 4, the space station, built for the purpose of the
second expedition ten years ago. She did not know much about it, save it was far more
comfortable then this one, which was about thirty years of age now. They would travel
half a billion kilometers across the universe before reaching their destination.
She tried to suppress her anxiety and kept her mind on the slides while Kovinsky tied
up his lecture.
“So, to wrap it up, we’ll be staying on the station for about three weeks until the
Martian storms are over. We will pass that time with imposed acclimatizing programs.
Elisabeth, I want you to pick four others from your list who are suitable for leadership,
so that everyone will be responsible for a group of about twenty-five.”
She did not like this unexpected turn of plans, but she knew this was neither the time
nor place to start an argument; everything depended on collaboration from now on. On
the other hand, four more group leaders should not make a significant distinction.
“John, you want me to pick out four new leaders and I still need a last session with
the women. You’ve got to give me more briefing time.”
The briefing room was already overbooked, but they granted her the whole afternoon
to have her tasks completed.
After they had split, Elisabeth sent two invitations over the mail channels. With the
first one she did not impose on being there, just invited everybody for a chat session on
the upcoming voyage. The second one was mandatory to all female settlers. The male
group leaders were not invited.
Seventy-eight of the two hundred fifty showed up for the free session. They watched
her inquisitively. They had met her but once, after finishing the selection procedures. It
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had been a brief encounter in an assembly line type of interview and she had posed just
a couple of questions on them, a) where they willing to spend at least twenty-eight
months five meters underground? And b) would they be willing to become Martians
and uproot from their Earth origins?
They had been weird questions. The first one had to be answered by a whole-hearted
‘yes’; there was no other option. If they would engage in polemic waffling, she instantly
crossed them out on her list. The second one was tricky. Some of the answers came
from the textbook, others were surprisingly refreshing or even funny, but they did not
really matter. The only outcome was the impact the candidates made on Elisabeth.
Now she felt the need to put a third question to them to handpick the right stuff.
She made no proper introductions; time was over for idle snap.
“On Mars things can go off base easily. For instance, when accidents happen, help
could take a long time before it arrives. Let us suppose someone is mortally sick or
wounded and dying from agonizing pain. Would you be willing to take his or her life,
providing the victim will probably be dead before help arrives. Remember, you’re on
Mars; there is no second occasion, no grey zones up there. We’re on a survival
mission.”
It was a question that fit the Darwinian approach and when in college, they had
posed it upon her and her fellow-students. Most of them had radically chosen for
euthanasia as a merciful way of getting out. She had wondered if in reality they would
really be able to commit killing another person, even if this person was begging for a
quick end. She was the only one against it. She remembered how her own tutor reacted
on her decision.
“Elisabeth, you’ve made the right choice. Successful species do not commit suicide.
It’s like cutting your own flesh. Successful species want to generate, to go on and death
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is not an option. They’ll be carrying the load with them and leave it to nature to provide
the way out. Congratulations, you’ve passed the test. You’ll be a great psychologist.”
Great enough to land up on Mars, she thought, but it had convinced her that Darwin
could be interpretive in more then one way. Unfortunately, he had misused the term
‘survival of the fittest” which he had copied from Herbert Spencer who, in turn, had
invented it some years before Darwin published his notorious book.
Nowadays they used ‘natural selection’ or ‘permutation’ instead, though these
expressions still did not cover their true meaning. Natural selection went much deeper,
down to the gene pool. To Elisabeth it simply meant that a group would stick together
whatever the outcome. That was the start of every successful civilization. God was
always on the side of the merciful.
It was not otherwise here. Only four were against it. She wrote down their names and
sent her report to Kovinsky, leaving the ticking off up to him. Now, it was time for her
second session.
She watched the women seeping in, rapping and babbling and waited patiently until
the last one had dropped in. Only a couple of them did not show up.
When everyone sat, she grabbed the plastic wrapped silvery colored device on her
desk and showed it over her head. It was suddenly dead silent.
“Twenty five years ago, they called it the ‘Martian chastity belt’. Now, we call it our
uterus protection device.”
She took the fold off. The device had the shape of a large boxer short. It consisted of
soft fabric that kept ions and other cosmic rays away from the vulnerable feminine
parts. Without it, severe damage would bring about and the chances of having healthy
babies on Mars would practically be zero.
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The women were listening breathlessly, step by step coming to realize the dangers
that lay ahead. To Elisabeth it was a last test. Objections meant absolute removal from
the list. That was Elisabeth’s own decision and she would not back out of it. The last
thing she wanted was mutilated fetuses on Mars.
“And you’ll have to wear it all the time while in space, ladies. If you forget to put it
on after your visit to the bathroom, a signal will go off and you’ll be paid a visit by a
responsible who will watch that you really put it on again.”
A young woman held her arm up.
“Do elder woman have to wear that too? I mean, I suppose they won’t have to
consider pregnancy and stuff.”
“That’s a good question. If a woman becomes infertile, we have two options
available. The first one is to use synthetic sperm cells from a woman's bone marrow
tissue as used with lesbian couples; the elder will qualify for artificial insemination. It
will be understood that the human species must survive at all times, even if that takes
drastic measures.”
Again, silence reigned. Elisabeth wandered over them, just to find troublesome faces
staring at her, as if she had spoken dirty words. It was a horrifying prospect that they
could become infertile, even if they had no plans to motherhood in the nearby future.
“Okay, ladies, don’t loose sleep over it. We have many backup plans and this
scenario will not happen. Mars is as safe as Earth and in many respects even better. You
do not have to worry about medical care programs either; they are all free on Mars and
you will be monitored constantly. Medical supervision is completely automated and
when something seems irregular, you will be notified and cared for. Any questions on
the subject?”
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There weren’t any. For many women without medical insurance back home, the
prospect of permanent and free health surveillance was something out of a dream.
After she had dismissed them, Elisabeth leaned back, feeling zonked out by the strain
and again, that gloomy mood sneaked up. She would not back off herself, but, still, she
had a creepy sense of danger she could not put a label on. She had done her job and
what remained was out of her hands. At this last stage, she should not worry so much,
she tried to reassure herself.
Kovinsky had followed her choice without margin comments. She organized a close
meeting with the four new leaders in her room.
Two of them had good references. Washington D.C. born Howard Abbas, 36,
microbiologist and married to Andrea Hapsburger, 28, marine biologist. They had a
LAT-relation back home. For some mysterious reason they seemed to assume that their
professional skills could come in handy on Mars. Abbas’ grandparents had left their
Iraqi home for America before the region became western-free. Hapsburger was fourth
generation American with Jewish roots. They were both survival guides in their spare
time and showed high rate creativeness.
Martha Marrant, 29, and the only businessperson in the group, had gone bust some
months ago. Her husband divorced her, leaving her with all the debts, and she decided
to escape from her troublesome life by emigrating to Mars. Elisabeth was not interested
in that kind of juridical complications and it was Martha’s gain, if she managed to get
away from her debtors one way or the other.
She was a strapping woman, with bleached, shoulder long hair, showing the traces of
long hours of business lunches, but that would soon wear off.
Mike Johnson, 26, the dark and handsome type, was a typical jack-of-all-trades and a
master of none, having spent his youth in and out of jail, had been a cowboy for some
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time, a bartender and a stripper. Elisabeth was not sure if strippers belonged on Mars,
but everyone was entitled to have a second chance, and Mike in every way. He had been
a railroad worker in Latin-America, an oil driller in Africa and then - surprise – he
became a writer, and amazingly a successful one having written a best seller with his
semi-autobiographical novel ‘The Last Trail’. Elisabeth had not read it, but at the sight
of it, it confirmed her decision that he belonged to her creative ones.
The first question she popped up was how they would feel about leading a group of
twenty-five people.
None of them reacted the proper way; they stared at her indecisively.
“Is that financially rewarded?” Martha asked. Elisabeth could not help smiling.
Martha was obviously mentally still on Earth, trying to figure out how to fill her gaps.
“On Mars we don’t have money, Martha. We do not need money, as you will be
rewarded in other ways. You will have to find out yourself how to survive without it.”
Martha seemed to be pleased with the prospect that money was out of her life
forever.
“Well now, any other questions? Remember, in six days you will be on the ship and
there is no way to call it off when time has come. Make up your mind here and now.”
“Is that leadership obligatory?” asked Andrea. She had put her index finger up, like a
student wanting to make an impression on the teacher.
Elisabeth sensed some eagerness in her question.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want it, Andrea. We don’t want to push if you do not
feel ready for it, but remember clearly that this is a community that will run by itself.
We don’t know if we will need leadership after all, but for now, management has
decided we should play it safe. We only know we can’t have the community led by
half-hearted ones.”
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Howard cut in. “We’ll do it. Together we’ll be fine.”
Andrea sank back, now satisfied.
“Horse and carriage,” thought Elisabeth and she felt a sudden whoosh of envy. If
only her marriage had been like this.
“Okay folks, I suggest you go and mingle with the crowd, and see what you can
accomplish as a group leader. Don’t do anything in your own way yet. If you feel like
having to take action, come to me first. We will be traveling together and have sessions
on board to discuss matters of leadership. Thank you for your cooperation and we’ll
meet again on the ship.”
Mike clapped his hands but stopped abruptly when nobody joined in. He grinned
sheepishly; clearly, he was the only one who did not care whether they were heading to
Mars or the next nudie bar.
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7.
Elisabeth ran her group leader’s list over once again.
The oldest one was Margaret Rinsford. Then she had three in their thirties, which, in
her opinion, was a fair ratio. If something would threaten the very existence of the
settlement, the younger ones might find solutions to survive. They had the mental guts.
They had a fierce program to carry out before they would arrive on ISS 4: training
exercises to get a good night’s sleep, continuing gravitation-testing, therapy sessions
and above all and most important how to communicate and coexist. She had called it
Extended Evolutionism Education in her paper and now she could finally put it to the
test.
The ships that would carry them to ISS 4 were actually cargo shuttles, for the
duration of the expedition stripped from their non-essential content to have more spare
room. They could accommodate about twelve passengers and three crew members. The
ships were flying on automatic navigation, steered on by both space stations.
The lift-off from the docking station was a piece of cake, no gravity issues here, no
uneasy space suits, you just lied down, harnessed in your booths, and before you knew,
you were on your way on a four-month journey, or some five hundred million
kilometers to trek before you would get the next space station in sight.
In the center of the deck, a folding table was set up and as soon as the signal was
clear, Elisabeth gathered them all to join her.
They were all dressed in white shorts and T-shirts, made from fibers that kept the
body odors out. They had to change only once a week only and the ship had stored as
much as necessary of them to last the journey.
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“Before we start our first meeting, let me run over the program you will be following
for the next four months. We’ll keep Earth time, since it’s about the same on Mars.
However, we will synchronize our way of living with the ship’s daily life. Bedtime is
from nine p.m. to nine a.m. Artificial gravity will be off during sleeping hours and that
will inflict upon your system. You will have more need for sleep but your rest will be
much better then on Earth, more refreshing then ever which will have a positive
influence on your mind and body. However, you’ll need to take tranquilizers, but don’t
worry; they’re harmless and they’ll cause nice dreams. Questions before I go on?”
“What kind of tranquilizers are they, Elisabeth?” That was Linda Hollywood.
Elisabeth explained they were strictly produced for space travelers. On Earth, they had
very little impact on the body organism.
“Do we have to take them every night?” Mike Johnson asked unenthusiastically.
“Well, Mike, if you flush them down your washstand and you wake up in the middle
of the night, you might experience some nasty side effects. You’re hog-tied to the berth
until awakening time or if you’d cry wolf. You don’t know what’s up and down. You
are likely to be overwhelmed by claustrophobia and you’ll get paranoid attacks. You are
buried alive, that’s how I see it, but it’s your choice.”
“I’ll take those pills,” Mike decided with a broad smile.
Sharon Winslow giggled, clearly interested in the cowboy and Pete Murray looked
sour.
Elisabeth decided she should keep a close eye on this threesome.
“Can we pick our own berths?” Margaret Rinsford asked.
“Is that essential to you, Margaret?”
“I’d like to be with someone I can cope with.”
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Elisabeth felt no sympathy to her, though they were of the same vintage. She asked
her to rephrase her question.
“I mean, if we’re stuck together for the next four months, we should be entitled to
choose whoever we want to become intimate with.”
Elisabeth wondered what she meant by ‘intimate’, but she decided not to be fussy at
this stage.
“It’s your prerogative, Margaret, but remember, you’re all chosen to perform
leadership and that means that, once we’re on Mars, this party will dissolve. Every one
of you will assign to your own group. Growing too close on this ship, might cause
mental plights when we split.”
“Still, I find it tiresome if I can’t be in the right company. I have been in the military
all my life and camaraderie is important to me.”
“What do you propose?”
“I’d like Linda to live near to me.” Margaret exchanged glances with Linda, but
Linda looked away, apparently put off by this openly approach.
Another set of troubles ahead, Elisabeth thought. “If Linda agrees, I don’t you see
any objection, how about it, Linda?”
Linda shrugged and said that was okay with her. Elisabeth had a sudden regret,
having given away her authority.
“Anyone else with preferences?”
“Now that you ask, Elisabeth, I’d like to be in the good company of Dan,” Jesus
hastily said. Dan said he didn’t mind and to the others everything was okay.
“Right, now that we’ve settled this – and I hope once and for all - we’ll proceed with
the timetable. From 9 to 10 a.m. we’ll do the required gravity exercises by means of
video sessions. Then we’ll have breakfast, which has about the same dietary pattern as
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we had on the station. As our gravitation is only one third of Earth, we won’t use much
energy, and therefore food will not be a major issue.”
“Will that be the same food preparation on Mars?” Dan Pelsmaker asked. Elisabeth
knew he was a Mars fan, but seemingly only now came to grasp that nutrition on Mars
did not include a juicy steak or a barbecued trout.
“Don’t worry, Dan. We’ll have a hydroponics garden and a fish pool, so there will be
plenty of variety and we’ll even have our own preferences to a certain extent.”
“I like some red meat from time to time, Elisabeth,” Pete said.
“There are no bovine animals on Mars, Pete, edible or otherwise, and we won’t
import red meat either. One kilo of beef costs us more than 15,000 liters of precious
water. We don’t need it anyway; we need to keep our bowels shipshape. Don’t worry
about any shortage; we have design carbohydrates to every occasion. By the way,
speaking of animals, if anyone feels the need to have a pet on Mars, there are a lot of
electronic ones; they’re especially made for the children in the future, but they appeal to
adults as well.”
She rested for the next question. Jesus Mendez looked vacantly away, lost in
thought. She knew he was about to open his mouth and she patiently waited for his
reaction, which came soon.
“I suppose we’ll get to have worship time? I would want to preach once a week,
preferably on Sunday’s.”
They flashed a look at him in surprise; it was the first time Mendez openly revealed
who he was.
“I don’t see why not, Jesus. I’ll talk to the Captain to let you use the deck on
Sunday’s.”
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“Suits me fine, Elisabeth.” He let his eyes wander the room. “If anyone wants to join
me, feel free to do so.”
Nobody reacted, which caused Mendez to look unhappy, but then, the idea of
preaching in space was still an odd one and soon some of them would come around, if
not for the sake of homesickness, the further they got away from Earth and their past.
‘Okay then. So, between 1 and 3 p.m. there will be communication training. From
three to four we’ll have lunch, but I’m afraid it won’t be much different from what we
had for breakfast. Things will improve the instant we land up in the space station, so get
used to it. From four to seven we’ll have fitness training to keep our bones and joints in
good shape. You’ll find that will exhaust you by the lack of fresh air and outdoor
exercise and therefore you will be glad to turn in after dinner. Lights out at nine. Is
everything clear?”
“Do we have moments to ourselves?” That was Martha Marrant, who hadn’t spoken
up to now.
“Oh, I forgot to tell, between noon and one you have your personal quality time,
Martha.”
“Fine with me, Elisabeth,” Martha said. Elisabeth wasn’t sure what she expected
from her quality time. Time was irrelevant anyway, even virtual when you traveled in
space. That was the main reason why she had insisted on strict timetables. They would
give the people the impression they still had control over their lives. By chance, they
had a wide range of TV-broadcasts on the close circuit. Once they were halfway, they
would pick up another hundred from ISS 4, so they would have sufficient distractions to
forget about the long and dreary journey.
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“By the way, let me remind you that on Mars you won’t have to submit yourself to
regulations anymore save what’s essential to survive. So, consider this stack of rules as
a transitional phase.”
Nobody had comments anymore; they were all willing to get rid of what had caused
them to feel unhappy on Earth.
“So, that’s said and done then. I suggest you talk about it while I make some calls.
Don’t forget our schedules. Last call nine p.m. sharp. By the way, study your washstand
before you go to sleep. The instructions are on the monitor menu. It’s no big deal, just
get used to it. Tomorrow, we’ll start the real works.”
It was high time for her. She left them to crawl into her own booth, pushed the button
and the panel slit close. She unzipped her pants, pulled her shorts down, put the tube
between her legs and let nature do its work. Then, she made her first long distance call,
lying on her back, looking up to the ceiling screen.
It took ten minutes before she was able to get Albert on her screen. She apologized if
she had taken him away from work, but he said he was on his lunch break. He looked a
bit drawn but his young face was always cheerful when he talked to her.
“So, finally, you’re on your way. How are you doing, Mom?”
“It’s okay, Albert, still a long way to go though, I’ll be kissing the ground the
moment we’ll land. By the way, where are you now?”
“I’m commuting between Pho and Dei, Mom. We’re establishing an elevator
between them.”
Pho was space slang for Phobos and Dei for Deimos, the other Martian moon.
“An elevator? What do you mean?”
“Oh, it’s no big deal, just our jargonized way of speak. It’s basically a new line for
hydrogen cargo transits.”
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“I see, uh well, as long as you’re happy with your job. How’s life up there?”
“Not bad, but pretty monotonous of course. You know how it is in space. On the
other hand, it keeps us off the streets.”
“I hope we’ll see us again soon,” Elisabeth said.
“I’ll be around for some time, Mom, don’t worry. When my watch is over, you’ll be
on the station and maybe I can get a permit to join you.”
“That would be fab, Albert. When can I see you again?”
“The day after tomorrow, Mom. Let’s settle for the same time.”
“We’ll do. Big kisses, Albert.”
“Kisses, Mom, mwa mwa. Bye for now.”
The screen showed how much call credits she had spent and then a commercial was
on. She put the screen out, turned on her side and felt okay. As long as Albert was all
right, she was all right. It was a blessing from heaven, the way their relationship was.
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8.
They took the discomforts of the space journey as they came. Though the booths
were highly sophisticated, it was always a tough job to undress and take a dry shower.
They used high frequencies for their cleansing. It shook off the fine dust particles and
dead skin cells, sucking them up and spitting them out into space. The vibrations
however caused an embarrassing side effect, as it awakened their sex drive. At the
suppressed sounds Elisabeth heard around her, she was not the only one who found the
tingling much to their delight. It was better that way than stealing a moment of cheap
sex in the storage room.
Anyway, due to their low energy level and specially adapted nutrition, their sex drive
had reduced considerably together with their hormonal levels. On Mars it wouldn’t be
otherwise, but then again, the human species was remarkably able to generate in the
worst of living conditions as history had proven; maybe that was the real force of
mankind, instead of their enlarged brain capacities. Come in again, Sigmund.
Elisabeth used the deck for her private sessions. Linda was the first who called in to
have a couch talk.
Captain Elderly and his crew preferred to stay in the cockpit and made only sparsely
use of the deck. It was a typical bachelor dwelling, with an oblong table screwed to the
floor and some communication hardware. The walls were covered with red tape
paperwork, chiefly printed out reports and memo clips from the shipping company.
Linda, by the look of it, seemed to be in distress. She sat opposite Elisabeth with her
hands in her lap.
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“What seems to be on your mind, Linda?” Elisabeth could not help sounding like a
therapist, but her patients appreciated her way of objective approach.
“I don’t feel fine with Marge near me,” she told her. She used a low voice, as if she
was afraid Margaret would be spying on her.
“Why is that?”
“It’s like – ah – she’s sending out bad vibes.”
That was typical Linda talk. This girl had been mucked up, had been too long with
the wrong people. On the other hand, vibrations would well be for real. This ship was
like a cobweb with all sorts of them.
“Can you feel these – uh, vibes?”
Linda nodded. “Every time Marge puts on her set.”
“Is that a lot?”
“About every half an hour, and it lasts five minutes each time she puts it on.”
Elisabeth could not believe it. That was a lot of vibrations for one person.
“That’s pretty much.”
“Every time she puts it on, something happens to me. I feel nauseated; I feel like –
uh – after a bad trip, you know.”
“I’ll talk to the Captain about it. If you want to move to another booth, just tell me.”
Linda lighted up. “That would be great, Elisabeth. Please, have it done.”
Elisabeth patted her on the hand in a motherly way. After Linda had gone out,
Elisabeth made a call to the Captain and asked him about the vibrations.
“Well, miss, I guess that lady loves a good buzz from time to time. I can see here on
my panel that she’s using her set at maximum load. What can I say? Some people don’t
get enough of cleansing themselves.”
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He found it much amusing imaging the women using their sets for their secret
pleasures. Elisabeth had heard enough and disconnected.
She leaned back, staring at the video screen on the wall. She could see her reflection,
the image of an aging woman with bewildered eyes. She evaded her mirage and
concentrated on Linda’s disclosure.
Marge seemed to crave for intense sexual stimulations. So what? What could she do
about it? The rays coming from Marge’s booth were so strong that Linda felt them
intensively from a distance, and being an ex—junkie, her body had probably lost the
ability to fight back.
They were nearing the halfway point, known as the Point Of No Return between ISS
3 and ISS 4. From then on, ISS 4 would take over to guide them through. Transmissions
were improving and the talks with her son were increasingly coming in faster and
disturbance-free then before. They headed for their final destination and just now, the
passengers realized they were nearing closer and the sullen moods perked up again.
Looking out from the portholes, Mars came into view the size of a rusty dime. It was
turning into a living being.
Albert called in and Elisabeth took the call in her booth.
“Two months still, Mom, how you feel?”
“I feel great, Albert, everything's going smoothly. I’ll be glad though when we
arrive. It’ll be good to see you again.”
“I can see your ship, Mom. I mean, it’s a digital image, but I can see it.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic, Albert. Can you send me a picture of it?”
“Sure, Mom, in a second. I have some interesting news for you, I mean, for the
expedition. Brace yourself. Did you know that the Mars camp is owned by Bellum and
his household?”
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“Owned?”
“Yes, they bought the whole complex for themselves.”
“I didn’t know that. And what do you mean by household?”
“Well, the party and its sponsors basically. You know: fund raisers, pension funds,
space business, the media, the works. We’re basically talking the Big Five.”
“The Big Five? I was not aware of that. They didn’t tell me. I thought it was still
MEA and ISA working together, the same way it was before. I don’t know what to
make of it, Alex.”
“I don’t know either, Mom. I just wonder why ISA has approved and –“
Communication suddenly broke down. Elisabeth tried to reconnect, but instead a
message told her it was closed down for maintenance.
She tried to figure out what Albert was trying to tell her. She had no idea that big
business had taken over, but what the heck, she would come face to face with her son in
a few weeks, and she should thank the President for that instead of sticking her nose in
his affairs.
ISA, the International Space Agency had been on competitive terms with NASA
since its foundation about ten years ago. Both pursued the same goal, colonizing Mars,
but NASA, who had always been a sole player, found it hard to share its ambition. It
was fully concentrated on conquering the red planet. It even changed its name tot MEA,
dropping the rest of the space program. Then, after the last expedition failed, both
agencies decided to stick their heads together to build ISS 4 while Mars itself was kept
on the back burner.
Her mind set off to the little celebration the crew would throw this evening.
Celebrating the halfway crossing was a tradition she would not want to miss. She was
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joyful with that once in a lifetime experience, and with her, the passengers too if only
for the welcoming change.
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9.
Defecating had become much easier the longer they grew accustomed to the
spacecraft. You had to stick a hose up your butt and have an unpleasant enema
administered. After some weeks and with the proper food the urge to go lessened and
the body was able to discharge weekly only. It all happened in the best of clean and
clinic conditions and it took care of all fecal bacteria.
In Elisabeth’s days, it was something else. Those stick-in-the-mud workers refused
to shuffle a tube up their asses or eat the non-fat dinners. They wanted burgers, hot dogs
and pizzas and no veggies or fruit and the result was that management had to pressurize
the lavatories and even then, it still was a messy business. Gravity had its own ways.
It was time for the Point Of No Return whoop. Captain Elderly was thirty-three of
age and was not much interested in his passengers, not even in the female ones. He and
his men behaved like mad wild-eyed monks. They were short and stocky; their average
height was five foot six.
They had micro waved calcium-enriched meals and drank low alcohol pops from a
plastic jar labeled as ‘Cruisin’ & Boozin’. At the very moment the halfway passing was
a fact, an alarm bell made a lot of crazy noise. The Captain delivered a short toast, and
without further ado, the crew called it a day and ran off to their own quarters.
It put a damper on the party and they finished their meal in a subdued mood.
Dan, who sat across Elisabeth, noticed she looked a bit drowsy.
“Don’t feel wound up by their attitude, Elisabeth. These guys are nuts. I read
somewhere they’re all gay,” he said with a malicious grin.
“Gay? Why do you say so?”
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“Just elementary thinking, Elisabeth. These guys are underway for months with no
woman around; they stick together like glue. Don’t you see something’s missing here?”
She had not considered that before, but it made sense. You cannot live this kind of
life roaming the universe for months without some sexual or at least affectionate
relationship. So far for her girly fantasies about the Buck Rogers’s, the Marvin
Corbett’s and the Han Solo’s in space. The black knight on his white horse had turned
into a pink one.
Sharon cut her thinking short.
“Elisabeth, how long should we go on with the fitness exercises? It’s not like on
Earth, I can tell you. I really don’t see why we do all the fuzz. On Mars gravity is only
one third, so we should be jumping about like trampoline dancers.”
“I know, Sharon. This is a temporary measure we have to take. If I’m not mistaken,
that subject came up with the first sessions on Earth, but maybe the instructors haven’t
propagated the importance of it properly. When we are on Mars, we’ll have less weight
to carry, that’s a fact. That will be a blessing, but in the short term, our bodies will
experience physical demolition. Our bone structure will have to shrink in order to meet
Martian gravity requirements. That will take up a long time, maybe the best part of our
lives, depending on your personal physiology. You’ll have to take designed medication
during the transformation time, as you will experience the same discomforts as one who
suffers from arthritis. As you know, I have been on Mars for about eighteen months and
all that time I had to take my pills. But then, a small wonder will happen. Your body
will adapt itself, you’ll forget you’re walking on one-three-g, you’ll be floating on air
and your pains will be gone. If you suffer from lower back pains, that too will be gone.
You’ll be fit as a fiddle.”
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She did not add that the moment their bodies would adjust it would start to change as
well. They would shrink some centimeters; their muscular tissue would become thinner.
Some of them would start looking like gorillas, others like old dried-up spinsters from a
Dickens’s tale. How their babies would look, she wouldn’t even contemplate. It
remained a mystery as no baby had yet been born in space. They would be the real
Martians and she just hoped they would not look like those ridiculous creatures from
the ancient B-rated science-fiction movies.
Looking at Sharon and her blossoming youth, she felt sad with that vision, but it was
something Sharon would have to find out herself.
Then she focused on Linda and Marge. Linda kept at bay since their talk and even
avoided looking in Marge’s direction. At lunch, she decided to point the issue out.
“Oh by the way, Linda’s feeling not well, she expressed the desire to move to a
booth at the other side where centrifugal force is lesser. Maybe the ship’s left rolling
doesn’t do well to her. Would someone be so nice to change places?”
“If no one wishes, I’d like to swap. That’ll be a nice chance.” Dan volunteered which
surprised Elisabeth, but maybe he liked older women.
Marge looked put out but she held her horses. Linda nodded thanks to Elisabeth.
“And the idleness’s getting on my nerves.”
That was Mike talking. Elisabeth had observed him in the last weeks. He was
unhappy with the monotony and he was itching all over. She did not know what to do
with it; if he could not cope at this stage, Mars could turn into a living hell for him, but
there was no way to wind back.
Mike was playing the field with the girls, but they all suffered from their decreased
sex drive; their menstruation cycles had stopped, telling them this was neither the right
time nor place to ovulate.
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They were caged like rats in this tin as the Captain called his ship and they could
easily turn into neurotics by the lack of diversity. Then she got a flush of inspiration.
Every two weeks the ship made a full stop at the depots between the two space
stations. The depots, looking like small submarines, took the craft’s wastewater and
processed it into hydrogen and oxygen for the next ship’s needs. It also carried fuel and
tools. The whole operation was done automatically, with small robotic devices that did
the work. Most of the time, it went trouble-free and never took more than ten minutes.
But, as the Captain explained, these devices were not completely reliable and
sometimes it went wrong, and humans had to take over. This was one of such
occasions.
“Why don’t we ask the Captain to let you out for an hour or so?” She sounded like
Mike was a dog begging to walk his beat on the streets.
Mike lightened. “Would you, Elisabeth? I’ve never walked in space. I’ve done scuba
diving and that’s a bit like spacewalking, so I should be able to get out all by myself.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Mike. Any other candidate to join Mike?”
They relapsed into a brooding silence. Floating about some quarter of a billion
kilometers away from Earth in absolute void was not their idea of fun.
Then Dan decided he would ask the Captain if he could assist Mike in one way or
another.
While in her personal time, Elisabeth made contact with Captain Elderly. Elderly
agreed, much to Elisabeth’s surprise, but he then explained one of the crew was feeling
ill and Mike might take his place. Dan could keep an eye on him on the bridge.
They were all clustered to their portholes and the monitor screens, watching the two
space walkers, Mike and one of the crew, drifting softly, tethered by a lifeline, towards
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the depot. The ship’s strong floodlights shone on the depot that reflected with gleams of
brilliant white, silver and gold colors.
At the sight of it, Mike’s diving lessons did not seem to pay off well. Sharon giggled
while watching him struggle to keep a straight line between the cargo deck and the
depot.
He somehow managed to arrive unharmed and they watched the two hauling the
depot in.
And then it went terribly in the wrong. Mike made a slight movement, turning to the
right and loosing his balance. Suddenly his lifeline was entangled and he was helplessly
bobbing head down and turning slowly on his axis. The crew member seemed not to
bother with him, but kept doing his stuff.
Elisabeth pushed the alert button and a blaring siren went off for some seconds. The
Captain’s angry voice came blurring instead.
“Woman, what are you doing? Keep your hands off my tin!”
“But…”
“It’ll be fine as long as you stay put.”
“But…”
“Cut it out! We don’t need some dame turning hysterical here.”
Elisabeth shut her mouth. She felt angry by his insulting remarks. But then, she could
see how a small device, shaped like a twenty centimeters tall rocket with handles, its
lifeline attached to the ship, drifting towards Mike. He caught it and held it tight to his
body. Little by little, they hauled him in and the cargo deck swallowed him in, and the
incident was over.
The Captain’s voice broke in unflappably. “Well, folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed the
show. It was no big deal, and you don’t have to worry. Sorry about that, my mistake.”
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They stared at each other, still dumbstruck, but then, Mike was all right, and that was
the most important thing.
Elisabeth felt it was her fault, even if Elderly admitted he was to blame. From now
on, no more adventures, she promised herself. If they were bored, they should watch
some more TV-shows.
Mike turned back, looking flushed, but with a broad smile, with Dan on his tail. The
adrenaline was clearly still boosting up. They were radiating joy.
“Wow, some gig,” Mike said, flopping into his booth. He turned to Dan.
“Thanks man, I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
They all glanced at Dan, who was taking the admiring looks with royal consent.
“That’s okay, buddy.”
Elisabeth eyed them and felt wound up. “Share it with us, boys,” she urged.
“Okay. When I saw Mike acting like a clown, I released the rescue rocket without
asking the Captain’s permission. He wasn’t watching anyway, too much busy with his
video game.”
“Well, in that case, you’re our hero of the day, Dan. Congratulations.”
They all supported Elisabeth’s closing words and Dan didn’t mind to be the center of
attention for the rest of the day. No one asked themselves how Dan knew about these
things, but being some kind of space expert, he probably should know.
“Let us pray for Mike’s safe return.” Jesus’ tenor voice cut in between. They all
stared at him. Suddenly he started to sing an old gospel in a dark and modulated tone.
All along my pilgrim journey,
I want Jesus to walk with me
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In my trial, Lord, walk with me
When the shades of life are falling
Lord, I want Jesus to walk with me
In my sorrow, Lord walk with me
When my heart is aching
When my life becomes a burden,
Margaret was the only one who knew the old psalm and she joined in second voice.
She had an unexpected melodious voice and together they made a great singing duo.
Maybe it was the aftermath or simply the fact it now dawned on them how risky their
lives were, that they listened in a subdued mood, and when the singing was over and
Jesus said ‘Amen', they echoed solemnly.
Encouraged by the approval, Mendez switched to preaching. He spoke nice and
comforting words about God protecting them from the dangers of the passage.
“God is everywhere, in us, in the universe, and we should not fear what is coming to
us if we try to find Him.”
A murmur of approval follow Mendez’ closing words.
Elisabeth watched the events with clinical interest. Maybe Mike had done a good
thing by putting himself to peril, she said to herself. Maybe his clumsy act would be the
key to their success as a community on Mars. Time would tell.
Dan came up to her booth and interrupted her thoughts. He sat on his knees, his face
near hers. He flashed a shrew look at her, acting important and still feeling on top of the
world.
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“Elisabeth, do you know that every month four or five shuttles disappear from the
face of – uh – space?”
She laid her reader aside. “Accidents?”
“I don’t think so, Elisabeth. I couldn’t help overhearing Captain Elderly talking to
someone on ISS 4. They seem to maintain a lucrative smuggling organization with the
goods from the depots as far as I can see.”
“Smuggling?”
“Look, these guys are overworked and underpaid. It’s no surprise they keep
something for a rainy day. They know they have only a few years left before their body
starts to go downhill, and then it’s over for them.”
“I see. Do they know about that at the station?”
“Of course, but what can you do? The days of glitter have long passed. Cruising
space has become truck driving. There’s no adventure anymore. It’s hard to find good
personnel nowadays.”
He sounded pretty off, and Elisabeth could picture him in his adolescence reading
science-fiction stories and watching matinee movies, dreaming of a heroic career in
space. And what did he get from life? A lousy job as an assistant bank manager, and his
dreams of noble knights with light sabers in shatters.
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10.
ISS 4 was coming near, justly two weeks to go. At last, communications between all
settlers’ ships under way had been firmly established. Eighteen ships interconnected in
one train of thought. Elisabeth took the opportunity of asking around how everybody
felt. They all felt great and ready for their big adventure.
No one seemed to have experienced sensations of uncertain nature, which was
disturbing news to Elisabeth. She still had not figured out the bad vibrations between
Linda and Margaret.
And then, Dan went berserk.
They found him in his booth, lying on his belly with saliva dripping from his chin.
His eyes were glassy, his face bony and transparent, and for a moment it looked like he
was past help, but then he bug-eyed, gave a wild yell and jumped out, pushing Elisabeth
and the others away. He fled down the passageway towards the closed cockpit door and
started to bounce and kick while tears came pouring out.
Pete hit the alarm and Elderly and his crew came busting in.
“What’s the fucking matter now?” he shouted, and then he saw Dan lying on the
floor, heaving groans in pain.
“Get aside,” Elderly mumbled. He had a thing in his hand that had the looks of a gun
and fired it off at Dan’s butt. As soon as the tranquilizing bullet hit the flesh, Dan lay
blacked out.
“What’s happened?” Elisabeth asked out of breath, while rubbing her bruised elbow.
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“I’m gonna give the man L-dope; he’s plainly overstepped the mark,” Elderly
grumbled. He looked down on Dan and shook his head with a disapproving look.
Overstepped the mark? Elisabeth’s heart sank. If Dan showed mental disorder at this
stage of the expedition, it was over for him. They would not be able to support him all
the way through the eerie phase of transition. It was an unwritten law that labile people
had to be dumped.
“Are you sure, Captain?”
Elderly shrugged his shoulders. “It happens with stowaways and workers, but not
with regulars. And this one isn’t a stowaway or a worker as far as I know.”
This was a real setback. Not only inasmuch Dan had slipped through her net one way
or another, but also because he was supposed to be one of the leaders. They could not
use a leader who showed schizophrenic symptoms and who would panic in the
confinement that Mars meant.
“I can’t understand how he could pull through the clearing,” she said bashfully.
Elderly again shrugged his shoulders and turned her eyes away from her.
“Anyway, we’ll have to strap him down and feed him intravenously from now one.
Luckily, it’s only a couple of weeks. It could have been worse. I once had a group of
miners who all freaked out. Too much space sickness pills and too much booze. It took
us days before they calmed down.”
Elisabeth did not want to know how he had managed to calm them down. Her first
act was asking the others to carry Dan to his booth. After they had secured them, she
crawled in her own booth and decided to talk to Albert first. She made a direct call but
it took some minutes before they could put him through to Phobos. He looked and
sounded weary. She asked him if he was okay, which he endorsed. Then she came to
the point.
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“Albert, is there a way to know if it’s possible that someone is able to outfox the
management? I mean, we have a mental case here and I really don’t know how that
could happen.”
“You have a raving madman aboard? Gee Mom, you’re playing with fire.”
“It’s not like it sounds, Albert. He’s resting now and he won’t be troublesome
anymore.”
“That’s good new, Mom. I can’t imagine how, he’s not a worker; he is a settler for
crying aloud. Anyway, I will see if I can find more about it. Maybe I’ll ---“
Connection broke off, the same way as it had before. Elisabeth stared at the blank
screen. She felt miserable because she had failed twice in such short notice. She
remembered the look on Eldery’s face. He evidently had doubts about her capabilities to
keep the group safe and sound. Though Eldery had tried to comfort her with his story of
wild miners, it was a whole other matter, a non-precedent case and it came about on her
watch.
It would leak out, like always when something extraordinary came by. The news
would go round, to all the ships in their trail, to all the settlers and the people in the
space stations, and a mountain would grow out of a molehill. Have you heard the news?
Elisabeth is a screw-up. No, she could not leave it that way. She had to dig in and find
out what had been the cause of Dan’s behavior.
She asked for a communication line with Jack. She had not talked to him since they
had separated.
Jack came instantly in, looking uptight. “What’s the matter, Elisabeth? Is the ship
alright?”
She told him what had come about. He listened without a blink and then sighed
audibly.
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“Elisabeth, I’m sure it’s not your fault, you had nearly made it without a scratch,
which not many can say, and we’ll take care of business as soon as you’ve landed.”
She was not happy with his easy way out. She was their head psychologist for God’s
sake; she should be on top of things. But it was no use complaining to Jack; he did not
go over matters like this and he wasn’t concerned. She had to get to Kovinsky, though
he would hardly be reachable at this stage.
“Listen, Jack, you know and I know Dan Pelsmaker has gone through the clearing
like we all have. I just cannot let it go. I don’t know what’s been the matter, but I want a
full explanation why he went off the rails. If not, I’ll consider quitting the job and return
with the first shuttle even if they’ll have to put me in a container box. I can’t be
responsible or have my name dragged through the mud.”
Jack knew Elisabeth long enough that she was able to cause so much turmoil that it
would ruin the expedition to a point that most settlers would refuse to stay on Mars and
decide to return with her. The situation was delicate enough already.
He decided to play along.
“Okay, Elisabeth. I’ll level with you. I don’t know much about the whole thing, but I
know there had been a second advisor.”
A second advisor? What did he mean by that?
“I mean, there was another person on the selection board. You and that other person
have been working apart on the screening tests. If it may be of any consolation: your
selection came first.”
She was speechless, she felt sick with his words. Jack had just told her those bastards
on the board had laughed with her work all the way. Then she pulled herself together.
“Thanks Jack, I can see it now. It’s staring me in the face. Everything is sorted out
now. I’m aware they don’t appreciate what I’m doing. If my work doesn’t meet their
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standards, I suggest they relieve me from the job. I’ll be glad to go on being one of the
settlers, but don’t temper with me anymore.”
“Hold your horses, Elisabeth. Let’s talk it out on the station. We’ll have a briefing
anyway and then you can settle it once and for all.”
He sounded like she had to walk up to the O.K. Coral to have the final shoot-off.
Before she could return him her answer, he had disconnected.
She felt crushed. Now she understood why they had acted towards her the way they
did. Jack had put her in her place. She wasn’t that vital to the mission. She was okay to
play the godmother, but they had mistrusted her all the way from the start on. But she
also knew she didn’t want to leave the expedition.
There was a positive side to the matter nevertheless: the other person whoever he or
she was would have to prove the goofs were his or hers. She really started to look
forward to that confrontation.
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11.
“Really, Elisabeth, if a passenger freaks out, it’s nobody’s fault. These things happen
and they happen on more than one occasion. We keep a lid on it of course and I’m
happy to say I’ll clear Pelsmaker myself, if it’s that what you want.”
Kovinsky sat at his Louis XIV desk, playing with his marker, knotting his eyebrows
to the disobedient subject in front of him. He looked like a French king in this elegant
and decadent setting.
His smoothing commentary ran her high; she was not pleased that he treated her as
his next worker. Yet, she had to admit she was impressed by the way he played with his
power. It must have cost a small fortune to have carried all this display of grandeur
along on the trip. She caught sight of paintings that did not look like mass produced
Chinese landscapes. She wondered how his private lodgings would be.
Then she did a reality check. “Let me refresh your memory, John, that, as the head
psychologist, I have some privileges around here. You’ll have to level with me;
otherwise I’m out.”
Her strong words brought him round.
“Okay, I admit the man slipped through the net. When we screen people, the first
thing we look for is mental stability, but needless to say somehow the procedure failed
with this person.”
“Failed? Screwed up, you mean! And why that sneaky business of having a second
opinion working behind my back? We’ve agreed that you’d back up my experiment all
the way, and now it’s totally blown up in my face.”
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“It has not failed, Elisabeth, believe me. And that other person was not a colleague of
yours; he doesn’t even work in your field for that matter.”
Kovinsky seemed to enjoy his little cat-and-mouse game, adding more fuel to the
flames. She gave up; it was no use trying to reason with him.
“Alright then, do it your way but let me make it clear that I don’t take any
responsibility from now on. My job’s over and done as far as I’m concerned.”
Kovinsky seemed to take it in mind seriously. “Okay Elisabeth. I’ll tell you more
about it. Don’t interrupt me before I’m through.”
She settled down and sipped from her ice tea to calm down.
“As you know, the second expedition petered out. We still don’t know why. We do
know that at some point people were breaking down. We hadn’t screened them well
enough. We just assumed that highly trained and educated people would handle the
stress, but it turned out they did not. We had relied too much on our conventional
thinking, instead of realizing we were on Mars and not on some sunny Polynesian
island.”
“Were you there too, John?” She could not help asking, but he did not mind, being
too much withdrawn in his past.
“I was one of the crew, Elisabeth, one of the lucky survivors. After I returned to
Earth, I promised myself we would have to think outside the box, and that’s why we
thought of you. You presented us with a fresh approach, and hopefully it will be a
successful one this time.”
“But you still weren’t sure of my experiment, were you John?”
“To tell the truth, I was not. On the other hand, it wasn’t my decision. It’s Bellum
himself who expressed the desire to have a backup opinion, just in case the project
didn’t work out as it should.”
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“Now I see. Okay, I’ll accept his judgment. I can’t do otherwise anyway. But even
with this other person, Dan slit through.”
Kovinsky got up and walked up to the giant window that gave way to a sweeping
view of the Martian surface and the red and orange dust clouds swiftly drifting by.
“Come and join me, Elisabeth. I want to tell you something.”
She unwillingly left her seat and walked up to him. Kovinsky was a head taller then
she was and she smelled his strong masculine body odor. Somehow, she felt more at
ease standing at his side.
International Space Station Four, or the other Wheel, kept a fixed geostationary orbit
close to the Martian North Pole. It was located between Phobos and Deimos, bobbing at
about six thousand kilometers from the red planet.
Kovinsky had a hypnotized stare.
“It took us forty years to establish a life-preservation method on Mars. That’s a long
time, Elisabeth, a very long time, and it has cost us billions to reach that goal. After the
last mission I wondered if it was all worthwhile, but with the present political situation,
I’m convinced we’ve made the right decision.”
She was not sure what he tried to tell her, but she kept her mouth shut. This was a
special moment and Kovinsky was on the verge of pouring out what was on his mind.
“Mars is a good place to live, Elisabeth. It has everything we need. The power plants
are producing filtered water and oxygen and they let the food grow. We can sweat it out
for a very long time if Earth would go to pieces. The station is more then just a base;
it’s a new way of living. It’s about surviving in space. Mars is the only alternative to
Earth.”
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He did not tell her more news; she had heard that repeatedly, by MEA, ISA, and
everyone who had a gain on Mars. But the way Kovinsky put it, it sounded like Custer’s
last stand.
“Colonizing the universe, man’s oldest dream,” Kovinsky mumbled.
Not mine, Elisabeth said to herself. She could tell him a million better ways to live
the good life.
He pointed at a certain spot on the Martian surface, away from the Pole.
“Somewhere down there is One Dome. We decided to move Two Dome, the new
settlement, up north, where is less meteorite impact. We abandoned Base Camp. You
cannot see it from here; it’s over the rim. But let’s concentrate on what we have.”
He turned to Elisabeth and seemed to study her face for a moment, which made her
feel edgy.
“In some weeks you’ll be staying on Mars. How do you feel about it, Elisabeth? Tell
me sincerely, I can use all the motivation I can get.”
“What do you expect me to say, John? You talked me into it, and now you want me
to tell you if you’ve made the right decision.”
Kovinsky showed a tight little smile, looking absently to the small dust clouds over
Mars, whirling up and dying down at the same pace. It was daylight on the planet. Hot
air caused the winds to blow fiercely.
It was the aftermath of the spring storms and the cloudy sheets were vaporizing at a
steady pace. Before long, they would have fabulous views on the northern hemisphere,
though sunlight was considerably feebler than on Earth. She remembered the
spectacular sunrises when staying at Base Camp, dust and fog causing weird light
effects.
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Suddenly, Kovinsky threw his arm around her shoulder. She stiffened up, and then
calm down again. It was plain to see he was in for a helping hand, and frankly, it was
nice to feel a man’s touch again.
“We’ll make it, Elisabeth. Don’t worry. We’re on the threshold of something new,
unparalleled in history and we’re playing the leading part. How do you feel about it?”
“Sounds frightening really.”
He released her and turned back to his desk to subside in his leather chair. She did
likewise.
“Don’t be afraid, Elisabeth. Everything’s going as designed. The first load of settlers
will arrive before long, so you’ll have plenty of work to do. I won’t bother you
anymore. Oh, yes, by the way, your son is here. He’s just arrived on short leave to meet
you. I’ll have an escort ready for you, so if you want you can join him now. Your cab is
waiting outside.”
Her heart missed a beat. Albert here? How delightful. She forgot everything
Kovinsky had declared and left him in a hurry. She climbed in the waiting automatic
two-person cabin. A menu on the dashboard screen flashed up. She read her instructions
aloud.
“Section Bravo Charlie Slash Four Eight Apartment Slash One Six Nine, please.”
The car jumped in gear and off she went with increasing speed.
While she was cruising down the hubs, she recapped her talks with Kovinsky. He
had been straight with her, that she could sense. Her threads had been adequate and the
best part of it was that she would still be in command. She had not known Kovinsky’s
vital role with the second expedition. That was an asset well considered. He had the
necessary experience to lead the colonization. She recalled that Kovinsky had spoken of
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himself as a survivor, but he could have meant it as a figure of speech. Everyone on
Mars was a survivor in a sort of way.
She met Albert in his cell, where he had just taken a shower and looked refreshed
and sprightly when she came in. He prepared mocha’s and they sat at the table, drinking
and chatting. Then he came to business.
“I couldn’t find anything on your patient, Mom, sorry about that. The selection
procedure seems to be classified, I can’t get in.”
“It’s okay, Albert. They’ve told me what I wanted to hear. You look a bit whitish,
are you having enough UV?”
Albert was less than average tall, as most people working in space. They proved to
be the better material as they did not use up too much of the food supply and they were
physically stronger then the tall ones. A large contrast with the six feet five space movie
heroes: they would not stand a chance on Mars.
“I’ve been working long hours lately, Mom, nothing to worry about. Besides the pay
is great. I’ll be able to buy that condominium apartment I’ve been telling you about
when I get back. It’s worthwhile to forget about your tan now and then.”
Before she could object, he hastily went on.
“Oh before I forget, well maybe it’s of no avail to you, but while hopping about on
Phobos, I discovered something weird, me and my buddy Matt that is, and we agreed
not to tell anybody. I mean, besides our moms.”
“That’s nice of you, Albert. But maybe it’s better to keep the lid on, if you guess it’s
something treacherous.”
“It’s no big deal, Mom, we were working on ---“
“Wait, Albert.”
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She remembered the device Jack had given her, found it in her breast pocket and
activated it. She put it on the table. Albert gaped at it bug-eyed.
“A scrambler? Where did you get this? I thought that was for the big cheeses only.”
“Well, consider me big cheese then.”
Albert found it greatly funny and maybe he was a bit impressed by the fact his
mother had some of the privileges he would not get in his lifetime.
“Okay, now we can speak out. Well, we were working at the south side of the rock,
when we discovered human presence.”
“People?” Elisabeth blurted out, which made Albert chuckle.
“No, no, mother. Unless you refer to angels, which some people see around here.”
Angels? Seeing his Mom’s bewildered expression he added that some people
believed there were angels on Mars and that they had seen them. Being away from
Earth too long could cause hallucinations.
“No, we found presences of human stay, and they seemed to be of military source. I
don’t mean weapons, observation posts, or whatever. You could see it was army built,
remainders of a dismantled base. We found electric wiring amongst other leftover
rubble and a fuse box with the USSA stamp on it.”
USSA, United States Space Army on Phobos?
“That’s odd; nobody ever has mentioned an army base on Phobos. Must be
something classified. A secret mission maybe?”
“I was thinking of that too, Mom. In that case this is not the third but the fourth
expedition.”
“We don’t know if the army had been on the planet itself as far as I can see.”
“You’re right. Maybe there have been more of these kinds of missions; well that’s
the military prerogative of course.”
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It was nothing worth interrogating Kovinsky for, she thought. She had already gone
far enough and she had no urge to endanger her position any further.
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12.
All ships come in, the settlers were granted a week to get used to their new
environment. Then they were transported to the inner hubs where gravity had been
reduced to Mars level. Now they had to train in realistic life conditions. The idle life
was over, no more romping in the fields. The daily exercises became harsher then when
on the ships; their survival trainings intensified. However, they all felt okay, if only that
they had gone rid of those nasty space sickness pills.
Gravity specialists, psychologists and survival experts were working closely together
to make certain that the settlers would turn into Martian material. They had only three
weeks to go. Thereafter climate conditions on the planet would worsen and endanger
secure landings.
After Albert had left for Phobos again, Elisabeth returned to her absorbing task to
coordinate the programs. Though she did not participate actively anymore, she followed
the settlers’ progress, and in particular Dan’s. After a scrupulous scanning, they had
found him sound again.
It was a still a mystery why he had gone round the bend, but Elisabeth soon found
out.
She had put Dan under hypnosis and before long, he was back on the ship and telling
her what had fallen out.
Margaret had been the cause of all. First, it was Linda complaining about pains, and
then it was Dan’s turn after trading places with her. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Margaret’s moments of intimate pleasure had caused both people to drive up the wall.
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Linda had seemed handle the rays better than Dan, but that was not the point. The point
was that Margaret nearly ruined Elisabeth’s reputation.
She arranged a meeting with her.
Margaret came in, waggling in her magnetic boots like all settlers wore during their
gravitation training. They called it the ‘duck walk’ and it had some comic effect, though
it was painful at the same time. Every muscle, every joint constantly screaming in
mutual protest and without the painkillers most of the settlers would have given up after
their first day at one-three-g day.
Elisabeth’s room had eighty percent of gravitation level, so Margaret could untie her
heavy weight rucksack that added some more pulling weight.
“Margaret, how do you feel?” Elisabeth prefaced.
“I’m okay, Elisabeth. Just that damned grav. I just hope I can cope with it on Mars.”
“Don’t worry, Margaret, no one leaves the Wheel if not prepared for it. But I’m sure
you’ll do fine.”
“Should be, I’ve been around.”
Elisabeth did not go into that, otherwise chances were Margaret would start a
monologue on her military whereabouts, and that was not what Elisabeth wanted to
hear.
“I’ve had some complaints, Margaret.”
Margaret gazed at her with surprise.
“About me? Why me? I’ve been a good girl all the way. You can’t blame me for
what came about on the ship.”
“That’s what I want to find out, Margaret. You have been using a lot of vibes up
there. I know, we all know, they cause rather pleasant side-effects, and to women more
then to man for we have more sensible skin.”
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Margaret stared at her without flinching, sitting stiffly like a good soldier to attention
before her superior. Encouraged by this, Elisabeth went on.
“I mean, we all have our sexual urges, but most of us can handle them and restrict
them to, let’s say, once a week. I’m just worried because you used them so frequently,
causing thereby untoward radiations that your berth neighbors couldn’t cope with.”
She had said what was on her mind and waited for Margaret’s reaction, which came
prompt. Margaret jumped up and leaned over to Elisabeth with her knuckles planted on
the tabletop.
“Do you mean I was constantly masturbating? Is it that what you’re saying? What do
you take me for? I’m a soldier, dammit; I can pull myself together in all circumstances.
You’re accusing me of being a sex maniac; you have a sick mind, lady, I’m telling
you.”
Elisabeth had a bit of a fright by this unexpected reaction. “Relax, Margaret, I just
want to know why Linda and Dan acted so strangely with you in the neighborhood. If
we can clear this out, we can take the proper measures, otherwise I’m afraid you’ll be
off the list.”
Margaret eased off, sat again and glanced at Elisabeth with moist eyes.
She’s not as hard-boiled as I assumed, Elisabeth said to herself, and she felt some
empathy growing. Margaret was a lonely soul, and she had been relying too long on her
own. Maybe her inversed sexuality had leaded her to this kind of atypical fixation.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Elisabeth. I don’t know about
vibrations, I’ve never used the device for pleasure. You’ve got to believe me.”
She had spoken in such sincerity that Elisabeth was certain she told the truth.
Nevertheless, that still did not unravel the puzzled questions.
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“Okay, Margaret, I believe you. I wonder, would you object to a minor brain scan?
Then we will be sure before we leave for our new destination. Just for the sake of your
own safety, you know.”
Margaret could not refuse of course; that would jeopardize her prospects, and she
had been living up to them since the last half year. She agreed halfheartedly and
Elisabeth made an appointment for the brain scanner in an hour.
“By the way, Margaret, what are your feelings towards Linda? Maybe they have
something to do with the vibrations.”
Margaret laughed nervously.
“Do you believe I was making advances to her? I’m not lesbian. I just liked her
company and I’m really shocked having to hear I seem to be the cause of her troubles.
She reminds me of my daughter.”
Elisabeth gaped at her. She had never known Margaret had a daughter; she always
had taken it for granted that Margaret was a single and hard-boiled soldier in service of
her country.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter, Margaret. Tell me about her.”
“She died when she was twenty-four. I was a single mother, taking her with me on
my missions. I never gave her the love she deserved. She was a junkie, just like Linda. I
recognized the symptoms at once, and I promised myself I would keep an eye on her. I
don’t want her to revert. Once on Mars I’m sure there will be drugs circulating and you
know and I know the first months will be hard on everybody, and drugs will be used to
overcome the changeover period.”
Margaret had shown another site of hers: the burden of her remorseful remembrances
of her child. Clearly, she felt guilty about her daughter’s death, bearing the belief she
had not been a good mother.
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“If you want to talk about it, be my guest, Margaret. I’m here for you.’
Margaret shook her head and regained her pose. “It’s okay, Elisabeth, just don’t
throw false accusations at me.”
“I’m sorry and I apologize, Margaret. After the brain scan, we will know more, I
trust. I’m glad we have sorted this out and if scuttlebutt would happen, I’ll see it’s
choked before harm’s done. We’ll see us again at the final meeting tomorrow.”
She felt angry with that other person who had selected Margaret without asking for
her opinion. If she had known, she would not have allowed Margaret to be part of the
program. There would be enough troubles of their own on Mars, without ghosts from
the past.
Margaret left the room and Elisabeth made herself a mug of hot eggplant broth. Her
mind was wandering about; Margaret had revealed something about drugs. She had not
considered the possibility of drugs on Mars. Why should she? Without the cash, no
drugs, as simple as that. No drug dealer in his right mind would subscribe for that arid
rock called Mars.
She wondered if Albert took drugs too. He seemed all right to her though, and
anyway his work was to demanding to let his brain wander in a blur.
Later that evening, while she was consulting the ships’ journey logs on the settlers,
the report on Margaret came in and Elisabeth practically fell off her chair.
They had discovered that Margaret still carried her military service implant, a chip
embedded behind her right ear. All military personal on active duty wore implants. The
chips continuously sent out strong impulses, fed by the brain charges, to orbiting
satellites that coordinated the physical and mental conditions, and, at the same time,
served to guide the soldiers securely across battlefields and into war zones.
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Eventually it all came together. The so-called vibrations did not inflict upon
Margaret herself. She had simply been in the center like sitting in the eye of the
hurricane. By a sheer combination of unhappy circumstances, the chip’s transmitting
signals had been intensified by the cleansing frequencies. She just was not aware what
was going on in her nearness; she was a living transmitter and she was unaware of it.
The only thing that bothered Elisabeth was the fact that the chip was still in working
condition, though Marge was retired. When personal left service, their chips were put
out of order and they were free citizens again. It could only mean that, with her high
rank and all, they had assumingly decided they should keep her on the reserve list.
She sent Margaret a message to tell everything was sorted out and she could sleep on
both ears again. She left out the implant details. Margaret instantly sent her a thank you
note back and that was it.
Now she could fully concentrate on her last show and she promised herself it would
be a blast.
Next morning, she drummed up all ten leaders to gather around her in the Wheels’
auditorium. On the desk laid brown bags with their names written on it.
“This will be our last meeting, ladies and gentlemen, dear friends, before we embark
to our new habitat. I want to make sure that at this very last moment you don’t opt out;
that you stand behind it one hundred percent. What I want to make clear is, the moment
you set foot on Mars, your life on Earth will be over and done. Now, I would like you to
put all your personal belongings in the appropriate bags. If you would ever reconsider to
leave us, they will be returned. We do not want any remembrance of our past life, no
souvenirs, and no nostalgic memories about Earth. You will not return to your quarters.
Everything’s left in your room will be confined as well. From now on, you are
Martians. So, get used to it this very moment.”
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They were fairly impressed by her speech but they seemed to take it well. They
searched their pockets and put their stuff in the bags, small jewelry, coins, candies, a
reader device, photos, a religious medallion, memory cards, miniature camera’s, music
players, everything that linked them to their past and that had been dear to them. They
were a good bunch; they apprehended its true meaning.
“Thank you, friends, your new life will be much easier now you’ve got rid of the old
one. Now, take a good look at what you are leaving behind and maybe forever.”
She took the remote control and pointed to the wide screen. The lights dimmed and
the space sky opened. She narrowed the sight.
“This is the fragment you see from the Martian surface. It shows the Earth, its Moon
and Jupiter. Callisto and Ganymede are further away. That is not what I want to show
you, though. This is your past, take a good look at it, for it will be the last time you will
be seeing it in such detail. Earth is of no importance to us anymore. We are becoming a
self-sustaining community, while Earth’s is becoming outdated. Compare it to the first
settlers who sat foot on American soil. Two hundred years later, their roots were erased
from their memories; they had turned into Americans and were ready for self-
determination. In our case, we have to act much quicker. All communications with
Earth will be shut off. Only this station will be left open to act as our mediator. Bear in
mind that you won’t be able to keep in touch with Earth anymore. Now let’s take our
final glimpse of Mother Earth.”
She magnified the bleak spot that gradually enhanced into the familiar pear shape of
their home planet. They could see the contours of the American continent under layers
of gray clouds. Further to the south, they saw bleak blue and brown colors dominating
the picture. It looked all so peaceful. Nobody said a word; they were all hooked on their
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last view. No one had a fit of cry or rational objections of any kind. They had
abandoned Earth from their emotional life already.
Elisabeth shut the performance off and the lights turned on again.
“That was it. Now let’s proceed to our new dwellings. You will be housed in an
isolated section at Martian gravity and in Martian life conditions. I’m sure you’ll be
delighted. Thank you and we’ll see us again on Mars.”
Mike clapped his hands and soon everyone gave her a round of applause. The
stewards came to fetch them to guide them to their new lodging.
She heard Pete say, “She’s taking my mitt away,” and Dan responding in a plaintive
tone, “You’re lucky, I’m losing my lucky charm.”
“Your lucky charm?”
She didn’t hear Dan’s grief-stricken response.
Again, she felt pooped and she worried about it. She left the auditorium and went
back to her own room, took two antidepressants, lay down and the tension fell off.
Kovinsky could now set the launching day. In a day or three, they would be living their
new life at half a billion kilometers from their home planet and she was at the verge of a
nervous breakdown.
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13.
Day minus One set in with a last talk. She had hooked Jack for a private meeting at
her place. He showed up late in the evening, looking overstrained. At the sight of it, his
job had become more demanding then hers. He had to coordinate every step aside
Kovinsky in order to guarantee safe landing and lodging. He told her over a cup of cold
chocolate drink that they had some trouble with the logistic side of the operation, but he
hoped it would be cleared out at launching hour.
He stared at her with feverish eyes. “Have you put up a mission statement yet?” he
asked.
She looked at him in wonder.
“I mean, does every group leader know what to do once they’re in their new home?”
“I haven’t commissioned anything, Jack. It’s up to them to decide how to fend for
themselves.”
He in turn looked in wonder.
“You can’t have your managers getting out there without the proper instruction set,
Elisabeth. It’s no company picnic.”
“Hear me out, Jack. We’ve agreed we’d follow the natural way, the Darwin way to
keep it simple. If we start telling people what to do before they even begin, the whole
concept will be gone. They’ll have to know for themselves; that way we’ll soon see
what it takes. These group leaders are just a primary pick. The community will decide
whether they are the blessed ones. If it doesn’t work, they’ll simply have to replace
them with their own choice.”
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Jack grinned. “You want liberals on Mars, power to the people and all. I like that
unorthodox approach of yours, but I wonder how John will take it.”
She ignored his veiled reference to Kovinsky’s conceptions.
“Socialism and Communism for that matter was all about rules and methods and
overall power, Jack, you should have paid more attention in class. Perhaps you might
see it as social Darwinism without the stupidities.”
Jack did not know what else to say, so he shrugged his shoulders and asked her why
she wanted to see him.
“I have to make a confession, Jack. It’s something I have to take off my chest.”
“I’m all ears, Elisabeth, but keep in mind that I’m the worst confessor. Don’t show
me the tears.”
She inadvertently had to smile. He had said it in earnest, but it sounded like a comic
line.
“Don’t be upset, Jack. I just want to confess I have not been in Base Camp all the
time twenty-five years ago. In fact, I have hardly been there about three of my eighteen
months call of duty. The other months I spent on the mother ship, as I couldn’t stand
living in the same place with a bunch of horny workers who wouldn’t mind eating up a
twenty years old trainee researcher.”
“Yes, I remember they brought in girls from ISS One. Some situation. At least
you’ve been on Mars and that’s what counts. So what’s troubling you?”
“It’s been rambling on my mind that I might buckle down under the strain of playing
goddess. These people look upon me as their earth mother. I need to know if you and
John have considered that option.”
“As far as I know, we don’t have a backup plan for you, if it’s that what you have in
mind.”
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“I can’t take the responsibility if the dome breaks down, Jack. Remember what
happened with One Dome. That should give a ring or two.”
Jack grimaced. “You’ll have to discuss that with John, Elisabeth. I don’t know any
more than you do.”
“That’s not a comforting answer, Jack.”
“I know, but hey, why worry now? You’re on the brink of writing history. Don’t
loose sleep over it. Just dig in it. Everything will be put in place in due time.”
It was creepy, the way he sounded like Kovinsky. “Thanks, Jack. I just wanted to get
it out of my system. Have you decided yet where the settlers will stay?”
“Don’t worry, Elisabeth. We have prepared ten dorms for twenty-five people each.
When time is right – which I leave up to you - they can pick out their own rooms.”
“Sounds fine to me. So I suppose this is the moment when we say goodbye and meet
again in our new home.”
Jack reached his hand to shake, but she kissed him on the cheek instead which made
him blush.
Kovinsky would have given me a warm hug, she thought, but then again Jack was a
technical manager and an alienated kid, not a leader of people. We’re a triangle, she
said aloud out after Jack had gone, but not in the way of the French.
After a catnap, she woke up at four in the morning. She ate an extended breakfast of
whole meal cereals in pineapple flavored yogurt, and then headed for the transit zone.
Already people were queuing up for the depilation treatment. Most of them showed
signs of anxiety, realizing they were heading irrevocably to their inexorable fate.
Hair growth was not wanted on Mars; all those microscopic substances floating
about were a nuisance in a confined space, not to speak of lice and dandruff.
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During their psychotherapeutic sessions, the settlers had prepared for this moment
and they perfectly knew they would become hairless for health reasons. The coaches did
their best to convince them that it would not lessen their appeal. In ancient Egypt and
other successful cultures, a smooth, hairless body was the standard of beauty and it
would be the same on Mars. Some settlers found the loss of their gorgeous hairdos, their
chest hair or their mustaches hard, but on the other hand, no one disputed that the Greek
marble sculptures had a lot of appeal. To many women, the daily fight against
redundant hair growing in unwanted spots was soon over.
The depilation was drastically overall, not a single hair would grow again, not even
the brows and chin hairs. They would be completely bald. They stepped in the laser
accelerator and after ten minutes, they came out at the other side of the assembly line
and their appearance was weird at first blush. Some called it the Martian Look and it
showed in their behavior and attitude. They really had the outlook of the typecast
Martians in the old Hollywood flicks.
They had an injection to safeguard them from possible side effects and dressed in
something that looked like a romper suit, then joined the row of born again Martians.
Some had a good laugh, others softly sobbed for a minute, but overall the operation
worked as a catharsis, as if they had shed their skin off to start their new life.
To Elisabeth, it was a pleasant surprise. She even looked younger, now that the
traces of aging had flushed down with her body hair and it showed the way she moved.
While for the last time space sickness pills were distributed, Howard and Andrea
joined Elisabeth. They surprisingly looked alike, like unisex twins.
“Howard and I’d like to stay in your nearness, Elisabeth, in case an emergency
would occur.”
“I don’t mind, Andrea. Do you have a special reason?”
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“Nothing in particular, Elisabeth. It’s only – well, in case something happens to you,
don't you think that would lead to a terrible mess?”
Elisabeth recalled her conversation with Jack and the fact there was no B Plan if she
would fail. It was a comforting thought to know her people were taking her much more
seriously and she appreciated their concern.
“You can handle it well, Andrea, you and Howard. My job’s done. I’m just the
observer. John Kovinsky will be in charge of the organization. But, as we have agreed
upon, it’s the settlers themselves who’ll have to dig out the best solutions.”
“I don’t like the idea, frankly. Howard and I prefer supervision, and we have a hard
time to get used to this kind of social experiment.”
Elisabeth had a bit of a scare. Why did she mention experiment? They were not
supposed to look upon it as an experiment. That was something between her, Kovinsky
and Jack.
“It’s not an experiment, Andrea. It’s supposed to be definitive. Experiments belong
in laboratories and this is not one.”
“Still, we’d feel more at ease with you on our side.”
Elisabeth could not decide if it was a good hunch to give the couple that kind of
privilege, as the others might consider it this way. On the other hand, it was clear they
had turned her into their guru.
Spoken of guru, it would be appropriate to have a last comforting word before they
embarked on the greatest adventure of their lives. A moral sustain would be fitting and
she asked Mendez to do the honors of biding the last farewell, which he accepted
joyfully.
One of the crew clipped a wireless microphone on his collar. Mendez cleared his
throat and the settlers shut up. He did not waste time and started with an ear-catcher.
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“From ancient times, the Bible has presented God as non-physical, a Spirit who
cannot be contained, even by the heavens. God must not only be separate from His
creation, but He must exist outside of time. In the matter of deciding who is running the
universe, we have just one option and that is God, because He has created it. Therefore,
he created humankind as well.
He did not create them as creatures that have no wills of their own, so they cannot
bring evil into His perfect universe. Not if God desires to have an eternal relationship
with a people who would willingly return His love. What does God do? He shows both
perfect justice and unbounded mercy.
Our relationship with God gives us the ability to talk to Him, not just about Him.
This relationship, after all, is the reason He has created us. It means our lives are not
pointless; we do not live only to have all memory of us snuffed out in a few generations
and throughout eternity. Rather, we find access to eternity through the One who exists
outside of time.
This one relationship can give our lives lasting value. This is the relationship with us,
who are about to find the Promised Land. God will exist on Mars and we will be safe
when we trust in Him. I want to end with Isaiah.
“But He was pierced for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him,
and by His wounds we are healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to his own way;
but the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.
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Always let God be in your heart and lead us through the difficult times ahead.
Amen.”
“Amen”. Two hundred and fifty voices sounded solemn.
Elisabeth was thankful for his inspiring words, as he had expressed of what she had
always been convinced.
Then they moved on to the last preparations. Every settler had to wear a pressurized
track suit and carry a survival kit, which was nothing more than military rations, a
miniature flashlight and a radio beacon. Elisabeth felt the anxiety growing; in less then
five hours they would be on Mars. A déjà vu to her, but mercifully not like it was
twenty-five years ago.
They had a twelve hours time launch window to carry all settlers and equipment to
the planet and with every hour a new load would barge in to join the others.
The settlers to the first shuttle assembled on the launch deck. They had their helmets
on and held their survival kit close to their body, like a lifebuoy on a sinking ship. Their
body language expressed how aware they were of what they were about to do.
When the light jumped to green, they stepped in the shuttle in an orderly fashion,
following the stewards to their assigned seats and they were tightly strapped in the
harnesses.
The spacecraft having released itself from the Wheel, they made themselves
comfortable for their journey. Every shuttle could take in twenty-five passengers. There
were no portholes, only a screen showing the pilot’s own view outside.
Elisabeth was with the first group. Leader was Andrea. It struck Elisabeth that
Andrea did not act the way the other passengers did, who were excitedly talking and
shouting with everything that met the eyes. Her face was expressionless; she seemed
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not interested in the growing reddish ball on the screen and Elisabeth did not know what
to make out of it. Maybe she was just hiding her fears behind that unmoving face.
Suddenly, the Martian surface came to life. They flew over Vallis Marineris, that
giant carve that had reminiscences of the Grand Canyon, and then turned towards the
North Pole.
Elisabeth felt the shuttle slowing down when the rear rockets backfired and her
stomach almost turned over as gravity abruptly returned, but to her relief the vomiting
kept away. The vibrations suddenly had gone and the shuttle seemed to be gently
floating towards the landing strip and then there was a big shush and they smoothly
touched the ground and came to a halt about fifty meters from a pockmarked canister
shaped shaft that showed traces of meteorite impacts. The shuttle made a ninety degrees
revolution and then slit backwards towards the shaft until it locked on and the engines
died and it was dead quiet.
No one moved; everybody seemed to hold their breath. It was a sacred time; it was
tangible throughout the ship, a historic momentum for everyone and they had to
consume it in all stillness before they were able to accept they had really landed on
Mars.
Elisabeth stared to the screen that showed a panoramic view of the surface. The first
time she had set foot on the planet was southbound, in the middle of the mountains
where the mining plants were located at Base Camp. This area was undoubtedly less hit
by meteors by the sight of the number of craters. The sky was reddish, caused by dust
rising from the hematite-bearing rocks that covered the basaltic plains rich in iron
oxides.
It was a familiar look to all of them and part of their collective memory since the first
automated exploring machines had landed on the surface a century ago. Nonetheless,
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Elisabeth could not help shivering at the sight of this desolate eroding landscape,
flattened by hardened lava flows.
A masculine voice from the intercom interrupted her train of thoughts.
“This is your Captain speaking. Welcome to Mars, folks. Temperature is plus
eighteen on the surface and minus ten on eye level. If you would like some more
figures, here we go. Air pressure is more then a hundred times less then on Earth. The
air is mainly made of carbon dioxide. Nitrogen is twenty-five times less then on Earth.
And oxygen, well, we have not found yet. That much for sunbathing outside. I would
suggest you take a good last look. If you want to stay in touch with it, there are lots of
panoramic screens in your station to fulfill your optical needs. Please, remain seated. In
a moment, we will escort you to your new home. Leave your travel kit under your seat.
Wishing you the best and a very good life on Mars, Captain signing out.”
Some people started to applaud, not realizing that the Captain seemed to find the
whole concept to be ludicrous and lunatic, as Elisabeth sensed between the lines. Then
the stewards came to fetch them.
While walking down the jet way, Elisabeth had the impression they were going for a
long cruise on a luxurious ship. Soft diffuse lighting and subdued background music
accompanied them to the station’s gate. A new type of air filled the space, a spongy
mixture of delicate exotic fruit perfumes pouring from the vents.
Everyone was still adapting to Martian gravity, but the training had bared fruits and
the duck walk had gone.
The stewards walked supply ahead as if they had not done else. The settlers followed
them to the airlock, the no man’s land that interlocked the ship with the station. It was
sparsely lit by emergency lights. They could hear the soft hissing of air purifiers.
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They proceeded towards an elevator that was waiting for them to carry them down
the station’s belly. One of their guides took the floor.
“Welcome, folks, to your new home on Mars. This is as far as we go. We are not
allowed to enter the premises, settlers only. From now on, it’s entirely up to you the
instant you set foot in this elevator. Good luck and God bless you on your mission.”
Some murmurs of thanks and returned wishes and then, they obediently stepped into
the spacious service elevator, and when the door shut, they had fear in their eyes, but
there was no panic. The elevator took them noiselessly down for about five seconds.
When the door opened to their new lodging, their first glimpse of it was the
quarantine zone. They knew the drill. First, they had to strip off and throw their
jumpsuits and helmets in waiting baskets on wheels to automated transport to the
incinerators. Then they had to stand in the shower room, where they were spadework-
like washed and at the same time scanned for harmful germs. A chilling spray struck
their bodies from all sides, followed by a roaring blast of hot air that dried them up in
minutes again. A computer voice told them they were clear and could proceed to the
next phase, which was dressing up again. They had new jumpsuits, made from organic
fibers, with a monochromatic metal outlook and the embroiled MEA emblem.
They put their feet in slippers and passed through a sliding door that gave way to the
station’s inner space. Red light stripes on the self-cleaning epoxy coated floor showed
them the way in. They moved cautiously on, their faces feverish and with every step
they made, their impossible dream was taking shape.
Now, they were standing in a large and empty rectangular space, fully lit by ceiling
sodium TL’s, and still flocking together. They were in the station’s reception area.
Humidifiers were pouring steam in the room. One of the walls had a wide screen that all
of a sudden came to life, showing the surface outside. They held their breath, gazing in
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ecstasy to the Martian horizon. Sunlight was weakening; the end of the first day was
nearing and the sky was growing lead. The screen projected numbers in the upper right
corner, starting with Sol 1, Hour 15:21:35, and the time they had been spending on
Mars since they set foot was 21 minutes and counting, temperature inside plus twenty-
three, outside plus ten centigrade.
The throbbing bright red and yellow lights coming from the Wheel six thousand
kilometers in the sky were remarkably bright in the dimming light. Elisabeth felt a
sudden longing.
An automated female voice made her startle. “Welcome to Two Dome. Please
proceed to the subway. Take a seat and wait for the next shipment to arrive.
Approximate time of departure is 16:33. Help yourself to snacks and drinks. Sanitary is
fully operational. Have a nice stay. Thank you on behalf of the management. God bless
America.”
That ending phrase sounded pretty off in the given circumstances, but nobody found
it ridiculous. Somehow, there was a sacred tension in the air. They all knew they were
on a historical mission and God was on their side.
The right wall all of a sudden split open and showed a subway station. The carriage
doors went invitingly open and they mechanically stepped in and took seats. Again,
background music and concealed lighting made them feel at ease.
The upper part had free vendor machines and Elisabeth joined the queue. She eyed
some of the settlers who were packing in more they could handle. They still had to get
used to the prospect they would not have to pay for anything anymore. The instinct of
greediness was still strong and it would take a while before they would realize there was
plenty of everything for everyone. It was simply their instinct of survival that told them
to fend for themselves.
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The next load came in and the first group who considered themselves as the veterans
warmly welcomed them. Elisabeth heaved a sigh of relief. Now she knew everything
would fall into place. Already the group spirit was shaping up, and the more settlers
poured in, the more of that spirit came to life. Nothing on Earth could compete with this
kind of fraternizing, people fully and unconditionally engaging with other people. This
was not an experiment, this was a sociological event, and Elisabeth felt the glow in her
heart strongly. This was why she had joined, why she thrived on her perception. It was
up to dear old Darwin now to show she was right.
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14.
The premises were even bigger then they had depicted from the 3D-projections in the
space station. They had room enough for another two thousand settlers and there was no
need for squabbling over nests and personal spaces.
Every dorm had been dressed in organic material to keep the untoward microbes out,
which otherwise on smooth and synthetic surfaces would flourish unbridled.
Kovinsky and Jack would pay them a visit after they had acquainted with their new
habitat. In the meanwhile, the two of them stayed on the Wheel, which Elisabeth did not
mind at all. She had an office for her sessions and private talks and used it for her
quarters as well. It was located about half a kilometer from the dorms.
Soon, practical matters came her way and she felt the need to share them with John
and Jack. They agreed upon a weekly remote meeting to discuss the agenda’s.
She was aware that she had to keep an eye on them in case they would decide to turn
the community into an organization the type she wanted to avoid; the top to bottom one,
so popular on Earth, but meaningless on Mars. She was aware that John and Jack would
be making plans that way and prefer the short-term way out.
After the second week, she was able to classify the complaints: industrious people
versus lazy people, the yearning for varying nutrition, the gravitation matters, the lack
of real sunshine and the excess of artificial light, and even about the interior’s design.
Management had used Japanese interior decoration to build the rooms and dorms,
and therefore they had Japanese furniture, futons and fusuma doors, giving way to
gardens with miniature waterfalls and bonsai trees.
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Overwhelming jasmine and perfume scents filled the complex and completed the
overall Zen mood. But to some settlers it was a bit over the top; they were not used to
this kind of affluence or it did remind them too much of what they had to miss since
they had left Earth.
Still, there was one place everyone was wildly enthusiastic about, and that was the
hydroponics garden. It was based on the Aztec floating gardens and the sight of real
water in such an inland sea volume, coming from deep down defrosted ice, was
overwhelming. It was a large garden, the size of two football fields, divided in four
squares, and it had everything needed for their daily intakes: salad crops and leafy
lettuces, sunflowers, watercress, cucumbers, herbs and subtropical edible flowers were
growing in abundance. The atmosphere was naturally damp and made a well-chosen
change from the humidified air in the rooms. All sorts of fruit provided them with the
vital vitamins their bodies were unable to produce.
In another room, they had a fish-breeding tank that afforded them with a lot of
genetically produced seafood.
Automated devices dressed as small exotic birds sat in the trees and in the bushes,
chirping and flapping about. A lot of robotic toy pets pattered at their feet, begging for
attention and showing affection as real pets do.
It was no wonder the settlers filled the site constantly, which they soon called the
‘Pond’, as their indoor pleasure garden.
Sharon spontaneously volunteered for the upkeep, but as robots had everything top-
notched, she had nothing more to do but watching the rice, onions, tomatoes, soy,
potatoes, lettuce, spinach, wheat and spirulina grow and waiting for the pickings.
Health care had become simple. In the sickbay, you could get sufficient help from
the medical robots who were always at disposal, night and day. They even had a
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maternity home, ready to deploy. Childbirths would take place in special designed tubs
and monitored by the robot nurses.
After some weeks, the urge to be busy wore off. They slept through half of the day
and filled their remaining time with exercises and sessions with the group leaders. It
would take less time to become Martians than they expected.
Now freed of their earthly burdens, they were steadily transforming. They became
fitter, both physically and mentally and developed social instincts they had been
unaware of, proving that cohabitation was not a vogue word, but the main motive to live
the good life.
One of the pleasant conclusions Elisabeth was able to make, was that the impact of
the original deadly sins was wearing off rapidly. Pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed
and sloth had turned into minor issues.
Take away greed and lust, and you do not need courthouses, judges and lawyers
anymore, for they comprise ninety percent of humankind’s squabbles.
Paradise regained. Her mind drifted to Mahatmi Gandhi’s interpretation of the seven
sins. She had always been a fan of his non-violence politics. Her social experiment was
none less than the attempt to incorporate his ideas in a Darwinian interpretation.
However, since she had exchanged Earth for Mars she had second thoughts about
Gandhi’s interpretation of the sins. As he put it, they were wealth without work,
pleasure without conscience, science without humanity, knowledge without character,
politics without principle, commerce without morality, and worship without sacrifice.
These were earthbound sins. On Mars, the work was done for you. You had the fun
without considering science, knowledge and intellectual education. That was of no
importance anymore and the shifting to creativeness proved bull’s-eye. Politics – well,
she granted Kovinsky’s philosophy of being on top of things, as long as he did not poke
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his nose in her work. Business without an agent like money made no sense in this new
micro cosmos. Worship she was not sure of. As far as she knew, there were no fanatics
and she just hoped for the best.
In the end, John and Jack would have to indulge and give their OK to her work.
The Darwinian bedrocks seemed to take off as well as to be expected. Jack proposed
she should find a suitable name for it, but how do you define the Gandhi – Darwin
synthesis? Survival of the happiest? It sounded more optimistic than the Darwinian
catchphrase to say the least.
Margaret
She had it all figured out. It was very simple. She just had to follow her leader’s
instincts and let them know who was in charge of things. But it turned out otherwise.
After three weeks, three women of her group paid her a visit with some grievances.
She listened watchfully, agreed upon some of the misconceptions she seemed to have
made.
“It’s not like we have objections about the way you monitor us, Marge, but you
remind us too much of the military, and we haven’t migrated to stick to the same rules
as on Earth.”
They made a point here, but Margaret did not know how to play it otherwise.
“So, how do you see it then?” she asked unwillingly grudgingly.
“Don’t make up too much rules, Marge, and don’t expect them to be executed at a
snap. We are adults; we know what is good or bad for us. Rules do not make a
difference, not with this small community anyway. You don’t have to lead us into
battle.”
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Maybe you’re wrong here, Margaret resentfully thought, but finally she agreed.
Someday they would come to terms with her and that would be the time to pick out her
Magnificent Seven.
Dan and Pete
Pete Murray came to visit Dan. He watched Dan’s index finger rapidly touching
iconographic symbols on the computer screen. While in the process of organizing the
expedition, management had decided not to use western lettering anymore and they
turned to the Chinese way of handling information. They had developed icons that
could cover complete sentences and it worked well – unless you were a fiction writer.
“You seem to know a lot about symbolic writing,” Pete said, standing behind Dan’s
back.
“Nothing special really.” Dan grinned, happy that somebody noticed how good he
was at the computer. ‘Just fooling around with the birds.”
Pete followed his programming. Dan was altering the chirping sounds of some of the
pets. Dan looked at Pete over his shoulder.
“You’re a graphic designer if I remember. The code writing is the same, I suppose,”
he returned the flattery.
“Not really, it’s more about vectors and pixels, it’s a fast business. Fifteen to sixty
seconds top.”
“And you’re getting paid for it.”
“I used to get paid for it.”
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“Yeah, I keep forgetting we’re living on another planet. Sometimes I wonder what
I’m doing here. There must be more than sitting at the Pool all day.”
“Well, there are the girls still.”
“Have you noticed they’re not really interested in making passes? It looks like they
don’t care about men anymore.”
“I heard they still don’t menstruate, that could be the reason.”
“Or space turning them into lesbians.”
“Yeah, Amazon women on Mars.”
“I hope it won’t be forever. We’ve got to create a new race if I get it right.”
“Some booze would help,” Pete dreamily said.
By the booze word, Dan seemed to wide-awake.
“I was worried being the only kid in town who would fancy a glass of good whisky.”
“Are you kidding me? I have dreams of Scotch on the rocks.”
“It would be cool if we’d find a way to produce it ourselves.”
“Not a bad idea, why don’t we take a look in the nutrition database? There must be
something about alcohol for medical use.”
“Quite honestly, I did. But nothing there. We’re condemned to forever drinking soy
milk.”
Pete sighed. “Oh well, maybe it’s all for the better. We can’t have Liz against us;
she’d turn into a wild tigress.”
“Yeah, rip our guts out, but Liz can’t be dealing the cards forever. She’s fifty or
something. Maybe it would be a great time to retire. She’s done a good job.”
“I admit. Maybe then we might find a way to get a shot of liquor around here.”
Dan changed the subject. “How do you get along with your people?”
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Pete shrugged. “Everything’s okay, I guess. I have no complaints, but on the other
hand, I don’t do much that the others can do too. Frankly, it’s a bit boring, that
leadership.”
“I see what you mean, it’s like sitting in your office and let the staff do all the work,
and watching the time fly by.”
Jesus
Mendez’s spiritual leadership made a great impression on his group. He constantly
reminded them of their mission on Mars, to create a new civilization under the wings of
God. Some of his pupils had searched desperately for answers on Earth, had followed
every spiritual movement, right and false.
Mendez introduced daily services, which steadily extended from half an hour to three
hours, and it was a great way of avoiding the inevitable dullness that came with their
enforced adaptation time.
He had to admit he had an easy job, having no competition of the established
religions from Earth and he therefore could easily adapt his own spiritual vision about
God working on Mars. Some members of the other groups joined in and soon he was
expanding rapidly, just as it was in his heydays on Earth. Mendez knew it was only a
matter of time before he would be the one and only religious leader on Mars.
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Linda
Linda was making a valuable contribution, introducing music to the community. The
music from Earth did not sound well anymore, strange as it was and people were
ignoring the radio hits and video clips that were available day and night. Linda was
soon experimenting with natural sounds. She was able to pick up the fine texture of the
noise people made, to turn it into music. She did not use instruments; her beautiful
singing voice made the music, lyrics and arrangements all in one time. People hearing
her softly singing picked up the snatches and soon, they had a melody. They did not
need the technology anymore to make music. It was home crafts and it was natural and
enjoyable to hear. It was something from the pre-industrial times when music, as all
arts, was a unique creation and not liable to be mass-produced.
Her leadership was based on her free spirit and soon her group copied her way of
life.
But the monotony that came with the transitional phase inflicted upon Linda too. She
felt a strong desire to have a trip like in the old days. Linda knew they had marijuana
plants; it was the first thing that had caught her eye at the Pond. The hemp was meant
for other purposes then getting high, like making wardrobe instead of the dull jumpsuits
to name just one. She decided to share it with Sharon.
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Sharon
Sharon had never been a heavy drug user. She had always stuck to soft drugs but
since she shook off her Earth habits, she did not feel the urge to light up a joint
anymore. Besides, it would trigger off the smoke alarms. Then Linda said to her in a
conspiring tone that she knew a way out and started to tell.
After Linda had left, Sharon felt the need to pass it on to Elisabeth, just for the sake
of her own conscience.
Elisabeth focused her attention when Sharon told her about Linda’s needs.
“I’m not against it,” she decided. “I just want it to be safe, health hazards free. I
agree we sometimes need escape from reality, we’re only human.”
Sharon told her what Linda had exposed. Linda had gotten some seeds from Mike,
who, in turn, had been negotiating with people while on the Wheel.
The seeds came from the hoasca plant, which produced a powerful hallucinogenic
effect. When Elisabeth heard South-American Indians used it to reinforce collective
belief systems, strengthen group cohesion, and create visions, and, at the same time,
providing revelation, blessing and healing, she was all ears and she decided Sharon and
Linda should go on with the experiment.
Elisabeth knew that Sharon was on terms of intimacy with Linda. She invited her to
tell her more about Linda’s relationship with Mike.
“Well, it seems that Linda had sex with Mike, but that it wasn’t a big deal she told
me. Mike seemed to have trouble to – you know. I can imagine with that low gravity
and the muscular dystrophy. Maybe you need to go to school again to learn new ways
of lovemaking, I don’t know.”
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After Sharon had gone, Elisabeth was worried about the sex deficiency. It was
apparent that, as Sharon had cleverly found out, love playing on Mars had taken another
turn and it would take time before new techniques were developed. But if not – suppose
sex would dwell off? Suppose that Mars was a sex discouraging factor instead. Should
they have to move to the bone marrow techniques or artificial insemination? Most of the
women would refuse to be part of a hotbed of breeders.
But maybe this was just a new phase, another step to take on that knotty Martian
civilization process.
You could not deny that, otherwise, they all looked healthy, perky and tanned with
their UV sunbath, ten minutes a day. In terms of mental health, they were in great
shape.
Though they were not judged by their looks anymore, some of the settlers had
trouble with their impersonal appearance. They used makeup to defer from the others;
some wore turbans for wigs. Some had flowers strung on their heads. Others arranged
their clothes in another fashion. They painted eyebrows to make communicative facial
expressions.
Elisabeth did not mind subgroups were shaping up; they enhanced the community to
grow in more ways than their own groups.
Mike
It was a dream came true. Mike was having a ball on Mars. He presented the
adventurous element in their community, and he infected almost everyone in his group.
He invented new games to keep themselves busy, established a theater group that came
up with new ways of entertainment. They took in the recreation zone and called it the
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Pleasure Dome, where they held g-parties. On one third of Earth’s gravity, they could
defy low gravity and make fun of it, jumping, dancing and falling across the room.
They invented new ball games, producing new play rules on the way. It was all innocent
as if they were reinventing their childhood.
Mike in reality did not participate nor contributed. He simply took things as they
were. He was actually only interested in the girls and he made it a sport to have a good
time with him. As they were still sleeping in the dorms, he found a better hideaway for
his escapades, the caldarium, which was a plunge bath structure as used in Roman
times.
It was a hot and steamy room heated by hypocaust. Pillars raised the floor off the
ground and spaces inside the walls blew hot air in from the fusion reactors’ steam
generators. They had the use of several baths and sweat tents. It was the ideal spot for
Mike and his love crazy girls to fool around.
Without realizing himself, Mike was the caretaker of the next generation. They
would remember him as the patriarch, as the Adam of Mars.
Martha
Martha’s business instincts were still playing strong on her. After a month at the
Pond, she decided she could be of better use than to solve insignificant issues, like
who’s going to use the upper berth tonight.
She came up with the idea of a bartering method based on time swapping. It was a
concept she once had tried on Earth, but it had not worked out well and had cost her a
lot of money. Without putting a monetary value on goods and services, her invention
seemed to be working amazingly well on Mars. Her secret was simple: her method
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evaluated people on their time efforts and soon, value judgments based on economical
factors were fading away, producing unexpected new flair and enthusiasm.
Time bartering proved a better way of dealing with the insurmountable gaps between
people of different backgrounds. It made an end to the tendency or proclivity to
exaggerate personal contributions and values.
Soon Martha’s idea contributed to the community’s welfare, and the groups grew
even closer, making good use of her creation.
Martha felt she was doing something wonderful. Perhaps it was this she had thrived
all her life for, without knowing that one day she would show the world how good she
was in her trade, even if that was in a station on Mars boxed in by permafrost
Howard and Andrea
What was to be expected came about. Howard and Andrea had merged their groups
together, thereby unintentionally creating a small social revolution, by managing to get
people out of their own group cocoons. When someone was in need for something they
could not provide for themselves, the other group would spontaneously volunteer for
the job, no questions asked. Because Martha had solved the rewarding matter to general
satisfaction, they just did it out of sheer fun and they did not expect anything in return.
But Howard and Andrea seemed to have other intentions with the groups yet. They
really knew about survival. In the line of their work, they must have been in hazardous
situations and they gladly shared their knowledge with their pupils. Many people
became sorts of survival experts and they soon were ready in case things went horribly
wrong.
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15.
Three months had passed; it was time now to parcel out individual rooms among the
settlers, but first Elisabeth decided to gather the group leaders to evaluate if the
community was ready for it. Only Howard could not make it. He was doing the chores
for Elisabeth. After a short welcome and supply of drinks, she asked them if they would
agree upon a little test.
“I want you to react on the words I’m going to say. You are free to comment.”
“Are we going to play charade?” Sharon asked in fun.
“You might call it that way, Sharon. I’ll start with the first one. Sanitary.”
That first word instantly launched several reactions and Margaret’s powerful voice
cut in like that of a drill sergeant.
“We’re running out of everything, Elisabeth. Toilet paper, tooth paste, tampons.”
“Marge is right, Elisabeth,” Linda added. “If we don’t get supplies soon, we’ll be in
serious trouble.”
“What do you mean by trouble, Linda?” Elisabeth had foreseen this reaction coming
and she was well prepared to face it up, but she wanted them to find their own way out.
“Trouble that we can’t take care of our feminine needs, Elisabeth. Do I have to draw
a picture?” Linda sounded a bit sharp. To her, being unable to have her daily cleansing
routine anymore was something from hell.
“Do we still need those industrial products, Linda? Do we still need Earth? Are we
Martians or not?”
That was a direct question, which caused some time to absorb.
“I don’t know what you mean, Elisabeth,” Linda stubbornly went on. Elisabeth
turned to Sharon.
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“I know you are very found of the Pond, Sharon, so why don’t you use it properly?”
“You mean, use the herbs and stuff?”
“That’s it. There’s enough there to fulfill your and everyone’s needs. And you have a
lot of information at your disposal, the books, and the databases.”
“Okay with me, Elisabeth. Honestly, it never occurred to me that we can use the
Pond for more reasons.”
“So you see. Food and drink.”
Several outbursts. They were all happy their calcium-related regime was over once
they had sat foot on Mars, but their bodies and minds still yearned for Earth nutrients.
Elisabeth heard words as ‘beef jerky’, ‘pastrami sandwich’ and ‘chowder’.
Then Pete cut in and his sharp voice shouted the others down.
“That’s something I was going to speak you about, Elisabeth. The regime is
monotonous. To me, it doesn’t make any difference with what we had on the ship.”
Some of the leaders took his side.
“Tell me what you want to add to our menu, Pete.”
“More of everything, Elisabeth. I feel I – we feel we need more then what we’ve got
up to now.”
“I’d like to have chocolate for a change.” Linda joined him.
“I see. Now, what is chocolate basically made of?”
“Cacao, if I’m not mistaken.” Linda answered in surprise.
“Can we find cacao trees around here?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“In that case, we should forget about it. We have wonderful herbal teas and their
nutritious values are beyond question. You might find out which ingredients in
chocolate we can use from our own backyard.”
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“What about a nice cup of Columbian coffee.” Martha joined in.
“You know, Martha, that we don’t have coffee plantations either. We can’t afford
them; they take up too much energy that we can use for better matters. Maybe in a
hundred years from now, they will be here, but not in our time.”
“There’s good coffee on the Wheel,” Mike said, winking at Martha. “I can always
pay them a visit.”
“Mike, we can’t leave for the Wheel, you should start to realize that. The only way is
the one way ticket. You won’t come back again.”
Mike pulled a face. He knew he was breaking a tacit agreement not to speak about
Earth or the Wheel for that matter. They had the choice of staying or leaving, but not
returning.
“Anyway, we have a big food range in the storage rooms. I’d advise trying to figure
out how to vary your menus.”
Dan cut in. “Does anyone know how to make Bourbon?”
Pete laughed at the unexpected turn.
“I don’t know, Dan. Sharon, can we do it?” He exchanged looks with Dan.
Before Sharon could reply, Elisabeth took up the suggestion.
“Liquor is strictly forbidden, people. You know that and besides, we have organic
wines, and they don’t contain carcinogenic hazards. In case of serious illness, you will
leave for the Wheel and you will never come back. That was a deal we made on Earth,
if you recall.”
“I’m working on a new drink,” Sharon cut in. “It’ll be finished in a couple of
months.”
Elisabeth was relieved. She knew what alcohol abuse did to an otherwise sound
community. The fall of the Native American culture had accelerated after the
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introduction of liquor as she had heard from the tales in her childhood. Her dad was an
alcoholic and he died of cirrhosis when she was still young. They could do without it in
a micro cosmos like theirs.
“You see, people, where there’s a will, there’s a way. Okay, sports now.”
“Oh yeah, sports. Boy, what I’d give to know who’s winning the World Series.”
Pete’s eyes expressed his homesickness.
“And who’s controlling the game, Pete?” Elisabeth asked.
“What do you mean, Elisabeth?”
“Let me tell you about sport, Pete.”
She lectured him about the numerous scandals, involving bribes, slush money,
manipulated imagery, bionic fixed players, and the impact of the Big Five on sport. It
had grown into big business and competition had turned into a premeditated money
farce.
“Glad you’ve pointed that out, Elisabeth.” Pete said aggrieved. Elisabeth knew she
was putting on airs, showing off as their moral censor, but someone had to do it. And
she wanted them to remember the other side of earthly civilization. Sport on Mars with
a one-three-zero gravity that caused people to lose muscular tissue was not something
they were bothered with anyway.
“Sorry about that, Pete. Just wanted to sort it out. I would like to go on. Love.”
She noticed Mike throwing a quick look at Linda, who seemed to catch up. The
others did not react properly; love was not their preoccupying issue. It bothered
Elisabeth. It was an intriguing assumption that love as defined on Earth, would not
work on Mars. Survival instincts were still playing largely on the brain and as long as
they did not settle everything in their proper ways, love as a romantic vision was not an
option. But inside she hoped she was way off beam.
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“Not much of a reaction here, we’ll leave it for now. Let’s move on with the next
item, which is sex.”
“What do you want us to know about sex,” Margaret asked in a tense tone,
reminding her of their earlier discussion.
“It’s one of our natural needs, Margaret. I just want to know if everyone can satisfy
their needs.”
“Actually, Elisabeth, I don’t feel much need for sex,” Linda said. Was that a tip-off,
meant for the boys? She did not turn to them, but Mike and Pete looked like beaten
dogs.
“Any others who want to respond on that?”
“Well you know how it is, Elisabeth. We’ve got no private space around here to do
what we feel like,” Dan said, guilelessly smiling.
“I know, Dan, but that will be taken care off soon.”
He was referring to lonesome satisfaction, and maybe he preferred it that way.
Elisabeth wasn’t happy with it. She didn’t want complicated and passionate cat-and-
dogs fights or jealous competitions, but on the other hand, she didn’t want alienation
between genders either.
“Babies.”
“Oh yes, Elisabeth, I really would like to have one.” Sharon shouted, which made
everyone burst aloud.
Elisabeth patiently waited, then asked her how she looked upon the matter.
Sharon had a blush, then a quick look at Mike, which surprised Elisabeth. It had not
crossed her mind that Sharon would fall for a guy like Mike, but opposites can act like
magnets.
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“Sharon, there are no rules like on Earth. You are doing pioneers’ work; we are
living underground and on the surface meteorites and radiations are bombarding us
constantly. Moral issues about sex work on Earth but not on Mars.”
“Are you implying, Elisabeth, that we should live like animals?” Jesus cut in, which
she expected he would.
“No, Jesus, don’t get me wrong. Nature had not intended the sexes separated by the
same cause. On Earth, you cannot have a natural relationship between man and woman.
There are too many rules. Some of them might by useful in certain circumstances, but
we don’t encourage them on Mars.”
She met approval with the women, which made Mike, Dan and Pete react surly,
feeling hurt in their masculine pride.
“It’s God’s will, Elisabeth,” Jesus went on.
“God has nothing to do with it, Jesus.”
“God is omnipresent, Elisabeth, even on Mars.”
She was not inclined to start a religious discussion, knowing Jesus would drag on,
and she would finally have to give in for the sake of peace all the same. As far as she
knew, they had meticulously sifted religious fanatics, but it was a given fact that normal
and balanced people were able to turn into blind worshippers when the occasion rose.
To her luck, Dan came to her aid.
“If I may say so, Elisabeth, I have a strong feeling that you want us to go back to the
Dark Ages, or maybe even to cave world. Instead of hopping around like sex craze
rabbits, we should put our minds to practical matters. I was thinking, suppose
something breaks down around here. Do we have spare parts to fix?”
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“You don’t have to worry, Dan. The equipment you’re talking about will last for a
thousand years. Every part is designed to that perception, so don’t feel troubled. If
something screws up, it is up to maintenance robots to fix it.”
“You’re right, Elisabeth, we should rely somewhat more on our blessings,” Pete said
and most agreed with him.
“Thank you for your approval. Last word: leadership.”
They had knowing looks; it seemed to Elisabeth it was a loaded word covering a lot
of bottled up emotions.
“What do you want us to tell?” Margaret asked. “Aren’t you satisfied with what
we’re doing?”
“It’s not I who’s judging, Marge. It’s up to you to evaluate.”
“Well, I can assure you my group doesn’t complaint.”
“That’s excellent, Marge. How about you, Andrea?”
She deliberately picked Andrea. So far, Andrea had been blatantly absent in their
discussions.
“I just do what you’ve intended me to do, Elisabeth. And I don’t get any complaints
either.”
“That’s what I want to hear. Jesus, how do your people behave?”
“They’re realizing how crucial spiritual guiding is, Elisabeth.”
“I see. Do you learn them other things?”
Jesus looked surprised. The suggestion of mentoring his people in other ways then
religiously had never crossed his mind.
“I really don’t know what you mean, Elisabeth.”
Lately, it had come to her ears that the settlers called her favorites Elisabeth’s club,
and that had made her rethink. She had gotten doubts about the way leadership evolved.
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A few omitted, most leaders stuck to their own group, and they had no ambition to
merge with other groups. Above all, she was afraid that her leaders would grow away
from their subjects to huddle together in her company, losing day-to-day relationships
with their people. The community was about to turn into a corporate culture. So, she
had chosen for a drastic decision.
“You have your groups firmly tight in your hands, and every one seems to be content
with your way of conduct, so I don’t have any statement on that. But I have also noticed
that there is a disturbing skeleton in the cupboard. If this evolves as it is, you will grow
into competitive leaders and groups and that is not what we need on Mars. We want
peace and harmony instead of rivalry. So, I have decided to discontinue group
leadership. From now on, every group will be neutralized and merge with the others. If
people feel they need leaders, they know where to find them. You have proven you
have a lot to offer, so I propose from now on, we let things happen as they come. I
thank you for the effort you’ve put in and I really hope you will continue doing what
you are good at.”
She could see mixed emotions, hardship, relief, apathy. But one by one they finally
agreed and Elisabeth heaved a restrained sigh. Again, a next step taken.
Back in her office, she added some thoughts to her paper about her experimental
work. First, she erased the ‘colonization’ part. Colonization had associations too tight to
Earth. It meant importing values and lifestyles they had grown up with on Earth. This
settlement had to start from scratch, all reminiscences of Earth wiped out from their
collective memory. It was hard as it showed with the group leaders, but she had high
hopes that the community would develop the way she wanted.
When the first Pilgrims sailed in from Europe, they brought their European way of
life along, but facing too many setbacks, they soon swapped their inherited values for
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the only way to survive. They adapted themselves, imitating the natives and living off
the land instead of importing expensive goods and foods. And that was the momentum
when America was born.
She wrote on, forgetting about time.
On Earth, the two global forces that controlled economy and social life were the Big
Five and religion, both competing for the body and soul of their members. They took
away people’s very existence and gave them back their own interpretation of the ideal
life, a life based on consumption and submission. And these forces complemented each
other perfectly. In the course of time, people had lost the ability to comply with their
own nature and with their surroundings. They locked themselves up in their air-
conditioned houses to watch holographic wannabe life on their TV-sets, and they did
not realize how dependent they had become. Robots were monitoring every bit of their
life and they did not give a damn. They had willingly given up on their personality and
privacy for the sake of protection and comfort.
The rich did not bother either, turning a blind eye to what they were causing, being
too busy to get richer and keeping the power. They owned the media and told people
what they ought to know. In the meanwhile, they built up their space hotels and
reserved the upper suites for themselves and their families. In case Earth would finally
turn into an inhabitable place to live, they would always have their safe refuge in orbit.
She made a comparison with the native tribes of America. Being herself partly
Kiowa, she had heard tales of her ancestors, roaming the Texan panhandle. Once, the
nomads led the sort of life she had in mind from the start of the Darwin experiment, an
informal, unconstrained life that did not know about time and space. It was a thriving
community, always open night and day, always busy, children staying up as late as they
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wanted, adults making love without shame or rivalry, people just enjoying life as it was
meant by nature – or perhaps by God.
She switched the screen image to look at the sky. She could see the far away foggy
ball of Jupiter. Then she turned the view to Earth. She enhanced the image and stared at
it without unleashed feelings. It had lost its meaning to her. It had become one of the
numerous celestial objects. She stopped zooming in and switched off.
This was her destiny, this scorched rock so far off her human roots. This was what
she had been dreaming of all her life, a free community of people who took life as it
came, and it came about on Mars.
She took in her writings; then she resolutely erased everything she had written. From
now on, no more reports, her new life began with an empty page.
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16.
She got a call from John Kovinsky. He told her in his characteristic concise way they
would be arriving next morning. He could see at her expression how she felt about it
though.
“Don’t worry, Elisabeth, it’ll be a pleasant reunion and you’ll get to meet some of
my personal friends. Maybe you might prepare for a welcoming party. Trust me; it’ll be
worthwhile for everyone.”
“I don’t know, John. It is pretty unexpected, don’t you think. You could’ve granted
me some more time to organize.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Elisabeth, just play along and we’ll soon be back on
our way again.” Kovinsky closed down.
She felt uncertain about his suggestion. It would be worthwhile for him naturally. It
was his chance to show off what he had made of her experiment. She imagined he
would arrive in style, probably with a bunch of Big Five executives. In the given
circumstances, the best she could do was to follow his advice and make the preparations
on the fly.
A reception committee… She gave thought whoever should take care of the
welcoming part. She did not feel like acting as the toastmaster.
She had a restless night, tossing and turning, and at five o’clock, lights starting to
glow, she decided it would be a small welcoming party, just a couple of trusted group
leaders and herself. She had pulled out Linda and Mike as they had proven they were
born emcees. Linda had some skills having spent a lot of her life on stage and Mike –
well, a jack of all trades would manage well at her side.
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First thing after the morning rituals, she called upon Linda. Mike answered the call.
Elisabeth disregarded the fact they were sleeping together and wished him a good
morning.
He coughed and returned the wish, still half-dozing. She told him the news in a few
words and asked him if he and Linda would be willing to take the job.
Mike grinned. “Don’t worry, Elisabeth, we’ll welcome them with flowers and
dancing virgins.”
She could not help smiling. With a guy like Mike it was always fun.
She sent a personal invitation to every settler to rally up in the reception hall, where
they could watch the landing of the visitors on the big screen.
Half of them showed up, which was fair enough to give Kovinsky an impression of
what the community thought about him and his gang.
They watched them coming in with three shuttles, all decorated with the presidential
emblem. The newcomers arrived at the very spot where the settlers once had been
delivered and then disappeared from sight to be decontaminated. About half an hour
later, a bunch of people cautiously stepped in the hall.
They were unquestionably secret agents, nine of them and all dressed in fresh
jumpsuits, taking up strategic positions, and looking grim. They even had UV glasses
on. They moved supple, apparently used to Martian circumstances.
One of them neared her but did not stretch his hand in a welcoming gesture, looking
very formal. He put his glasses off though and darted a glance at her that seemed to
prick her eyes.
“My name is James Horner, Doctor; I trust the accommodations have been
prepared?”
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“Uh yes, of course, Mister Horner,” Elisabeth mumbled, then she straightened her
back. “Linda will show them around.”
“Great, we’ll talk later on, doctor. I leave you with John now. He’ll be here in a
minute.”
She threw a closer look at him. He had a gentle black face, was about forty, a head
taller then she was and even in his space suit he looked like a tough and muscular guy.
To her embarrassment she started to blush, but he did not notice it.
Horner was about to turn away when she asked him if he knew where Jack
Armstrong was.
“Mister Armstrong? I don’t know, doctor, haven’t seen him for a while. I will ask
John. I see our distinguished guests arriving, excuse me for now.”
He was off in a hurry. She did not know what to make of it, but her attention was
drawn to the invitees coming in.
The load contained about thirty rather miserable looking aging people standing on
magnetic carts, frenetically clinging to the safety bars. Elisabeth watched them stagger
in, still struggling with zero-three-g. Kovinsky was in head, beaming like a little tin
god.
Camera people from the Wheel’s broadcast followed him like a shadow.
Linda and Mike had done a bang-up job; they had managed to conjure flags,
balloons, and welcoming signs in no time, and the reception hall looked festive and
joyful.
Kovinsky went straight to Elisabeth, his nicotine stained teeth exposing, as a
predator ready to devour. He descended from his cart and gave her a warm hug.
“Elisabeth, how nice to see you again. It’s been a while, but at last, we’re gathered
again.”
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He talked loudly, so that the mikes would pick up every word he said. This was not
the John Kovinsky she remembered. This man had put himself in someone else’s shoes,
a new and different personality, full of charm and star like airs.
She had to play the game nonetheless, and though she had not planned to give him an
affectionate welcome, the cameras put her in the footlights and she spontaneously
produced a wide smile and thanked him for his visit. She had not planned on a toast
either, but somehow in the given circumstances it would be proper to release one, and
she set off in a loud voice.
“Mister Kovinsky, ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of our Martian community, I
want to thank you for your visit. Our community is a peaceful one, and we want to keep
it that way. I hope you will find your stay satisfactory and we will do what we can to
make you feel at home. Thank you for your appreciation.”
It was a short, but adequate speech and it was an innuendo for her people. Some of
the settlers gave her a round of applause as they had understood. She had told them in
unmistakable words that she intended to keep it that way. Kovinsky did not show he
had understood the underlying message. He just kept grinning with his brownish stained
teeth, thanking Elisabeth for her welcoming words. Then he took the stage.
“Doctor McIntosh, as representative of the President and the Congress of the United
States of America, and on behalf of our fellow-Americans, I am proud to say that we
admire your determination to make this colonization work. We all know the previous
one has not accomplished the way it should, but I am convinced that this time we are
going to succeed, because of both the efforts of Martian Exploration Agency and yours.
Our endeavor in every way is paying off, and we look forward to the first real human
settlement on Mars. God bless the United States of America!”
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His procession and some of the settlers echoed him, but the best part just looked
skeptical. Kovinsky did not show he was aware of that. He shook hands like a proficient
politician on his election campaign.
Elisabeth felt disturbed because he had used the word colonization, which she had
erased from her vocabulary.
Kovinsky turned to her once more. He lowered his voice, still smiling but with
vigilant eyes.
“Elisabeth, the President wants to express his appreciation in front of the whole
universe. Kindly work with me, please.”
Before she could properly react, he nodded to one of his hulks who approached him
with a flat brown leather box and handed it over to him.
Kovinsky looked about, buckling down and enjoying every second of it while the
cameras visualized this dramatic scene.
“People on Earth are very anxious to know how this settlement is thriving, and we
shall gratify their curiosity, but first we want to express our sympathy and respect to all
of you by presenting doctor Elisabeth McIntosh and her settlers with a gift from Earth
and in particular from the United States of America. May I offer you this token of our
appreciation.”
Without further ado, he opened the box and took a gold five star medal on a blue
ribbon out. He handed the box to his man and in a smooth move hung the medal around
Elisabeth’s neck. Then he turned to his audience again.
“The United States Congress has unanimously granted Doctor Elisabeth McIntosh
the Congressional Space Medal of Honor for her dedicated and outstanding service to
her country in preserving freedom for all mankind.”
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Again, this hullabaloo was not what she had expected. The highest civilian
decoration to her? What had she done to deserve it? She had not even been thinking of
her country at all while making this mission work. It was not even a mission; it had set
off as an experiment and it was growing into a community. The idea alone of being
rewarded by Earth’s standards struck her as a wacky one.
Kovinsky unhurriedly shook her hand while someone was making a close-up
recording and then turned to his audience again.
“Tomorrow we will celebrate Independence Day. This event will be broadcast all
over Earth and its moon, the space stations, and Mars. We will have our first Fourth of
July on this station and I’m pleased to add that the President of the United States will be
watching the commemoration live from the White House.”
Elisabeth could not utter a word. It was all too much for her, and when Kovinsky
turned away, she was standing like a statue.
Then he was gone, on his ridiculous cart and followed by his suite, Linda and Mike
on top of the queue, showing them to their quarters. Her people surrounded Elisabeth to
congratulate her, but she accepted the credits half-hearted, her mind in trouble. It
figured that Bellum wanted to make a superb sounding statement but all that fuzz
promised not much good.
Finally, she returned back, alone and locked herself in her room, laid down on the
bed with closed eyes. Her heart still pounded hard and she had the feeling she was
hyperventilating. Her mind drifted to her son Albert. She wanted him to be near her, and
suddenly everything got across.
The community was in danger.
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17.
Kovinsky and his people had their accommodations in the new sections. He did not
show up for the rest of the day, mainly conferring behind closed doors. Horner and
three of his men were busily working to prepare for an out-of-this-world celebration.
They had pinched the auditorium, let no one get in and looked gravely over the supply
of sealed plastic coolers and crates steadily coming in from the shuttles.
After the first excitement, the settlers had come to their senses again and some of
them found it was a hostile take over; they felt the whole situation was going to freak
out. Forces they could not compete were invading upon them.
The next day they rounded up in the auditorium. It was festooned with the typical
Fourth of July ornaments, making the hall look like a county fair. The big screen was on
and showed an amazing sight. From the Wheel strong white, red and blue laser beams
made up the American flag reflected on the butterscotch clouds.
Every seat had an attached small plastic table, closing in on a stretched table at the
end. A tablecloth, again in the colors of Old Glory covered the table.
Elisabeth had a reserved seat at the left side of the U-shaped arena, about five meters
from the stretched table. Pete was sitting to her left side; Sharon took the right side.
Pete turned to Elisabeth. “Have you counted the number of stars on that tablecloth,
Elisabeth?”
“I haven’t, Pete. Is that important?”
“I counted twice and in my opinion there are fifty-one.”
“Maybe they’ve included Washington D.C.”
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“That’s not a state, Elisabeth. That I still know.”
“I haven’t a clue, Pete. Maybe while we’re thriving here, as Mister Kovinsky
declared, they found another state to join the US. We’ll soon find out, I guess.”
She had spoken light-hearted, but her anxiety grew with Pete’s keen observation. She
looked about. Not every settler had joined the party. About a hundred and seventy had
shown up, leaving some eighty or a third of the seats empty. Maybe they were right.
Maybe she should have refused too, but with that ribbon around her neck, somehow she
felt obliged to.
The auditorium’s lights dimmed and then shone with full force upon the stage again.
“Ladies and gentlemen please rise for the President of the Martian Federation,” a
voice blurred from the loudspeakers.
What? Kovinsky and the Wheel people walked in. There were no women amongst
them; it was unmistakably a male bonding club. They sat down in their designated table
seats. Kovinsky smiled like he had won a million bucks.
It had the image of a medieval banquet with his lordship sitting in the center, and
surrounded by his buttering up vassals and the common people rounded up, paying
respect and hoping for the gnawed bones thrown at them.
The self-assigned president rose and the noise dimmed.
“My fellow-Americans, on this first Independence Day on Mars I have the privilege
to welcome you on behalf of the people of the United States as the fifty-first state of our
great nation. This is a milestone in the history of the United States of America…”
Elisabeth couldn’t listen anymore. She felt as if someone had slapped her in the face.
Fifty-first state of the US. She had never meant this community to be an appendix to
Earth. They had not told her that this would be the outcome. This settlement was not
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meant to be a colony, nor a federal state. It was meant to represent a new stepping-stone
for mankind.
“I was right,” Pete whispered. He found the whole matter more amusing then
alarming and at the sight of it, most settlers seemed not to object, or maybe Kovinsky’s
declaration had a dazing effect on them.
Kovinsky finished his monologue and his bootlickers started to yell with approval.
Some settlers clapped politely. Stewards rolled in food and drinks. Everyone got a
turkey leg, mash and gravy. Elisabeth stared at her plate. It was synthetic food, in
flagrant contradiction to what had been agreed upon. They were deliberately destroying
her uphill battle labor.
One of the Big Five’s own soda pops was part of the drinks and Pete got what he had
wanted for so long. A steward poured whisky in his mug. He beamed with delight.
“That’s something I longed for since when. It’s going to be a marvelous life from
now on.”
Elisabeth gaped at him. Had everything she had done for them been a mere waste of
time? Were they so easily turning back the clock, becoming earthlings again?
Then she fixed her attention on Sharon who was staring at her plate in disgust.
“I don’t want to eat that crap,” Sharon muttered. “They can’t force me to eat this. I
want proper cooking.”
Elisabeth did not know what to say. She stared at the VIP table that looked like a
musical stage. Before her a tragedy performed. It was the horrendous awareness that the
community was turning into a completely different direction that had no reminiscences
whatsoever of what she had lived for. No, she could not let this happen.
Before she had made up her mind, the big screen changed images.
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Fireworks. She could not believe it at first, but there it was. A lot of exploding
colorful firecrackers amplified by the speakers. The sound had been added digitally but
didn’t miss its effect. The sight of it ravished most people and they yelled with every
outburst. Stewards were continuously pouring liquor, wine and soda pop in their glasses
and after all these months without alcohol and caffeine, they became worked on after a
couple of swigs.
People were constantly toasting Kovinsky just sat there as a textbook Roman
emperor, a benign despot, reigning over his subjects with bread and circuses. He looked
as pleased as Punch, knowing he had them in the palm of his hands.
Pete had passed out after two glasses of whisky. His head laid back and he was
snoring aloud with his mouth wide open, slobbering saliva with every breath.
Sharon was softly sobbing. Elisabeth’s her mind was numb. All she knew was that
they were calculatingly undermining her work and taking over control.
Like Sharon, she did not touch her plate, but a lot of the settlers did and they gulped
their food frantically down as if it was their last meal. And it probably was.
She looked out for the group leaders. Mike seemed to enjoy the bash, which she had
expected more or less. She could not locate Dan and Margaret, but they were probably
sulking in their rooms right now and she wished she could join them.
No, she could not let this go on. She had to stop it before everything would blow up
in her face.
Then without any warning, the ‘Hail to the Chief’ theme blurred out from the
speakers. The screen image switched to Bellum’s gleaming face broadcast from the
Oval Office.
It went dead silent in the auditorium. Everyone turned in fascination to the huge
projection. Bellum looked boosted up and his voice sounded loudly across the hall.
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“On this three hundred and fourteenth anniversary of America’s independence across
our great land, families will gather to fly the flag, to watch the fireworks, and count our
blessings as Americans. We are grateful for the bounty and opportunity of our land. We
are grateful for our liberty. And we are grateful for the men and women who keep our
country safe. The history we celebrate today is a testament to the power of freedom to
lift up a whole nation. On Independence Day, we remember the ideals of liberty that led
men from thirteen colonies to gather in Philadelphia and pen a declaration of freedom.
And we remember the band of patriots who risked their lives to bring freedom to a new
continent. On July the Fourth, 1776, more than five years of the Revolutionary War still
lay ahead. From the battle of New York to the winter at Valley Forge, to the victory at
Yorktown, our forefathers faced terrible losses and hardships. Yet, they kept their
resolve. They kept their faith in a future of liberty, and with their hard-won victory, we
guaranteed a home for the Declaration's proposition that all Americans are created
equal. Now the United States of America can proudly announce that our values from
this day on, extent not only to our Moon and the space stations, but to our Mars colony
as well. From this day on Mars will be the fifty-first state of the United States of
America. And to our Martian friends I would like to remind them that the revolutionary
truths of the Declaration are still at the heart of America and our space territories: We
believe in the dignity and rights of every person on Earth and in space. We believe in
freedom and equal justice, the rule of law, and a government of the people, by the
people, and for the people. On this Fourth of July, and in the days ahead, I ask every
Martian American to find a way to thank the men and women on Earth who made this
accomplishment real. It is a great honor to be the President of such a great nation. And
it's a privilege to be here to wish you all, from the planet Earth to the planet Mars, a
happy Fourth of July. May God bless you, and may God continue to bless our country.”
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Then the image went out as it came.
No mentioning of herself or the community. It was Kovinsky’s day. And it was clear
the settlement was of no necessity anymore. And Bellum had made no bones about it:
they still were American civilians and they had to follow American laws.
Then, deafening music filled the hall. The latest video clips emerged on the screen,
their raving sounds thundering from the speakers and Mike got off his seat to dance
with Linda in front of Kovinsky’s table.
Kovinsky was glowing all the time; he did not touch his turkey either. Probably had
eaten before, Elisabeth said to herself, that smart he was.
To her disgust she could see that some of the settlers making pace, kissing and
fumbling each other.
Sodom and Gomorrah, this was what it was turning into, Bellum’s own playground,
and Mars whole-heartedly welcoming the garbage of Earth’s impureness.
It was a similar situation as the Bible told about Moses receiving God’s instructions,
while his people were revoking the seven deadly sins. But this time God was absent.
When ice cream and apple pie were served, she finally decided it was time to make a
stand and leave. She deliberately made a show of walking away and taking care that
everybody could watch her leaving. She moved at a crawl down the aisle and some of
the settlers followed her example and left with her. Of the leaders Sharon, Martha,
Jesus, Howard and Andrea accompanied her.
At the door, Kovinsky’s bodyguards stopped them. They asked her where they were
going.
“You can’t leave the party until the president gives you permission to,” grumbled
one of the menacing looking hulks. He blocked their way out, but then Howard stepped
forward.
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“Watch it, buddy. If you’re looking for trouble, you’ve come to the right place. This
is our home, and nobody from fuckin’ Earth is going to tell us what to do.”
Elisabeth gazed at Howard. She had never seen him so raging mad and his foul
language shocked her, but it did not miss its effect.
“I’m Doctor Elisabeth McIntosh. I run this place. You see this?”
She dangled her medal. The goon stared at it, turned white, talked to his lapel, and
then nodded.
“Okay, folks, relax, it’s just a misunderstanding. Go ahead.”
They let them pass. Elisabeth walked to her room and they followed her like sheep.
“This is going terribly the wrong direction,” Martha expressed their mutual feelings.
“They’ve taking over,” Howard added.
“We can’t let the devil in,” Jesus added some more.
Elisabeth suddenly got a flash of wit.
“Jesus, our community is falling away in a pool of sins. You have to stop it. I want
you to talk to them.”
Jesus stared back, trying to grasp what she meant.
“You’re the only one who can do it,” she went on, now keyed up by her words that
had come bolt from the blue.
“You are right, Elisabeth, I will talk to them,” Jesus mumbled. “But how can I reach
them?”
Elisabeth turned to Howard. “Is there a way to get into the P.A.?”
“You mean, using the auditorium’s speakers?”
“That’s it.”
Howard turned to his wife, who had not spoken yet. That deadpan expression on her
face struck Elisabeth again.
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“She’s the one who can fix things,” he said pointing at Andrea.
“I’ve got a degree in electronic engineering,” she clarified.
Elisabeth would not associate biology with engineering, but it was a gift from
heaven.
“That’s terrific, Andrea. Can you do it discreetly?”
“No pain, Elisabeth, give me a minute. I go and fetch some things.”
She went off. Far away, the muffed sounds of loud basses slit in. It was a sound that
did not belong on Mars; it had a raw and earthly impact that disgusted Elisabeth.
“What am I supposed to do, Elisabeth?” Jesus asked.
“I want you to warn our people and remind them of their true vocation. Tell them we
don’t want another apocalypse on Mars.”
She really sounded like Moses on the mountain, but it did not miss its effect on
Jesus. These were words to his heart.
Andrea came back, carrying tools in a small plastic bag. She took a screwdriver to
unscrew the intercom’s panel and then swiftly messed about with plugs and cables.
Then she had a tiny microphone in her hands, the kind that is been used by spies and
eavesdroppers.
“The mike’s plugged in,” Andrea whispered. “Don’t make any sound while Jesus is
talking into it.”
Jesus took the mike between thumb and index and put it to his lips. His face was
covered with a layer of oily sweat and his hand was trembling, but when he opened his
mouth, his voice was steady and cogent.
They all listened with growing enthrallment. He talked about Armageddon and soon
the basses fell still. The installation spread his words all over and caught everyone to
attention.
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“I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is
called Faithful and True. With justice, he judges and makes war. His eyes are like
blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no
one knows but him himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the
Word of God.
The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine
linen, white and clean... And I shall have my white horse to be with Jesus, and to visit
all the mountains and the deep of the oceans, and the stars, and the atoms.
From his mouth issues a sharp sword with which to smite the nations, and he will
rule them with a rod of iron; he will tread the wine press of the fury of the wrath of God
the Almighty... this the sword of his justice, it is his rod of iron! On his robe and on his
thigh he has this name written: King of kings and Lord of lords.
Then I saw an angel standing in the sun, and with a loud voice, he called to all the
birds that fly in mid heaven. "Come, gather for the great supper of God, to eat the flesh
of kings, the flesh of Captains, the flesh of mighty men, the flesh of horses and their
riders, and the flesh of all men, both free and slave, both small and great.
And I saw the beast and the kings of Earth with their armies gathered to make war
against him who sits upon the horse and against his army. And the beast was captured,
and with it, the false prophet who in its presence had worked the signs by which he
deceived those who had received the mark of the beast and those who worshiped its
image. These two were thrown alive into the lake of fire that burns with sulfur. And the
rest were slain by the sword of him who sits upon the horse, the sword that issue from
his mouth; and all the birds were gorged with their flesh.
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And the devil, who deceived them, was thrown into the lake of burning sulfur, where
the beast and the false prophet had been thrown. They will be tormented day and night
forever and ever.
If anyone worships the beast and his image and receives his mark on the forehead or
on the hand, he, too, will drink of the wine of God's fury, which has been poured full
strength into the cup of his wrath. He will be tormented with burning sulphur in the
presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb. And the smoke of their torment rises
forever and ever. There is no rest day or night for those who worship the beast and his
image, or for anyone who receives the mark of his name. Those who worship the beast
will join the beast!”
His voice had risen to orgiastic level; he growled like a wounded animal and
suddenly dropped the mike, standing shivering with his head down, breathing heavily
like a man who had gotten through an intense love act. Elisabeth carried him to her bed
where he laid down to recover.
All they could do now was waiting for Kovinsky’s move. They expected the
bodyguards charging in every minute, but nothing of the sort happened. The music put
up again.
To Elisabeth it felt like a letdown when she heard the basses rumble again; she had
more or less anticipated that the settlers would have risen to a man, but they kept on
feasting.
After a while, her people left the room to return to their own quarters, and Elisabeth
felt drowned out by the tension and soon she fell into a dreamless sleep.
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18.
In the morning, some of Kovinsky’s hulks came to fetch her. They were polite and
aware whom they were dealing with, but their attitude expressed they would drag her
out if necessary. She decided to play along and walked out, surrounded by five strong
men.
The gangways were empty. The settlers were still down from their wild night out and
the goons walked her in silence to Kovinsky’s premises, which took up four of the new
rooms. They let her enter and left her with him.
He had put on a Chinese navy cotton robe and was eating buttered pancakes. The
smell brought back pleasant memories from Earth. One of his goons had posed himself
behind her chair.
Kovinsky stopped chewing and pointed with his fork to the opposite chair.
“Sit down, Elisabeth. Have you eaten yet? I recommend scrambled eggs; the bacon is
genuine, straight from Earth. I don’t know about the eggs. Can I offer you some coffee?
It is real too. I wish they’d grow some of it on the Wheel instead of importing it at great
expenses, but you can’t have it all, can you.”
She sat down and patiently let the stream of words go over her. He was unmistakably
belittling her with velvet gloves.
“I’ll stick to coffee, coffee’s just fine, John.”
He poured her a cup. The cup had a gilded rim with the presidential emblem
engraved. Bellum surely put his mark on Mars. It was nice China though; it reminded
her of luxuriated days of yore.
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The beverage however made her feel queasy, as she was not used to caffeine in a
long time anymore.
“That was quite a speech your man gave last night,” Kovinsky said with a wounded
look on his face. He wiped his mouth with his damask napkin and leaned back, staring
at her with his deep-set eyes. Just now she noticed how washed out he was. He was just
as vulnerable as the next person. He was not Genghis Khan or Alexander the Great or
not even Caesar. He was only Bellum’s little helper.
“John Kovinsky, I don’t know why you barge in like this on our community. No one
is interested in having another Earth, and at least not in the next federal state. We are on
Mars, if you haven’t noticed yet. Rules from Earth don’t apply here.”
“I’m still calling the shots, Elisabeth, don’t you forget that.” His voice sounded
threatening, but she determined not to give in.
“That doesn’t count here, John. And if you’re going to change that, you’ll soon be in
a hell of a mess, I can assure you.”
He gaped at her. There was a bit of yellow egg stuck to the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t overreact, Elisabeth. You are on US territory, remember that. This settlement
or community as you call it is established with US tax dollars. You owe a lot to the
people of the United States.”
The hulk made a sound that matched that of a growling dog.
“That was not the deal we agreed upon, John.”
“Come on, Elisabeth, that was a long time ago.” Suddenly he ordered his guard to go
out and waited for the door to shut. Then he leaned towards Elisabeth and his eyes got
an imperious stare.
“Elisabeth, I’ve always fancied you. That might come as a surprise, but I am with
you all the way. Actually, we should go on a more intimate base from now on. We’re
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the only ones who can make this experiment work and I mean not only in terms of
management, but as man and woman as well.”
She was shocked hearing his confession of desire. She had never contemplated
Kovinsky would have a crush on her. They were about the same age, but that was all
she knew about him; he had always drawn the line between his job and his personal life.
And now, in his silk gown, between two bites, he more or less declared in a clumsy
way, he wanted to go to bed with her.
She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of him, but he lifted a hand and
his facial expression was that of the main-squeeze again.
“Before we start a cat fight, I’d like to tell you why I’ve come here in the first place.
I want you to see and observe what is happening with Earth as we speak.”
This unexpected turn in their conversation unsettled her and the only thing she did
was nod in surprise. He turned to the monitor and grabbed the remote to switch it on.
Instead of the Martian surface, she watched a documentary, evidently prepared for this
occasion.
Images and sounds emerged. They talked about starving people who sought refuse in
the rich countries and how they were being stopped at the borders strong-armed. The
ones that got in turned the countries into refugee camps and racial and cultural wars
broke out and made the nations ungovernable. They brought in new deceases; new
viruses and the scientists could not cope with them anymore. Money markets were in
turmoil, commodity prices were hitting the roof. Famine was becoming a household
word in the formerly wealthy nations.
“It’s happening before our eyes, Elisabeth. We had feared climate disasters, but it
turned out that nature could handle its own business quite well without our interfering.
We had feared terrorism, but that proved to be a storm in a teacup. We had feared world
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domination by other political systems, but there were none. What we had not foreseen
was the rise of the third world. We had been focused so much on the non-threatening
issues that we didn’t see it coming. We simply took it for granted that our ridiculous
insignificant foreign aid would suffice to keep them calm. So they finally decided it was
time to pull the strings. We didn’t expect it coming from the second world though. The
Middle East, Russia, Mexico and China joined forces and they started their own World
War Three on their own conditions. They started to use economical arms, pointing
directly to the heart of the rich countries. They used their oil dollars to infiltrate the
western hemisphere. They bought everything up and out they could lay their hands on.
They used puppets for it and before long, they got half of American, European and
Japanese corporate concerns into an iron grip. They bribed so many politicians that they
practically were able to master the decision making. Finally, they succeeded to pass a
bill to allow millions and millions of refugees to migrate and there was no stopping
from then on, threatening that otherwise they’d use less civilized methods. Our
economies gradually started to collapse and we couldn’t do a thing save introducing
vast social security networks that undermining the system in the long term. We weren’t
able to use our muscle power because they had acquired the arms industry as well. We
can’t control two third of the planet anymore; our luck has reversed. No way back, no
funds return. We’re trapped in a galloping apocalypse, as your preacher man had put it
so nicely. It’s only a question of time till the fuse ignites the bomb.”
It took her some time to absorb what had come down on her like a ton of bricks. She
too had been living in her own little comfortable paradise, like every other American,
not being able to see what was going on in the rest of the world. She hadn’t lost sleep
over the alarming rising unemployment figures, nor the galloping inflation rates, and,
worst of all, she had taught her students economic sociology as part of her job, for
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crying out loud, showing nice charts while economics went down the drain to make it
worst. But how could she? It had always been hushed up in the media. Kovinsky
respected her moment of sorrow, but could not help to add some fuel to it.
“You know why you didn’t get the American elite to join the program?”
“Frankly, I’ve wondered about it, but the only answer I can give is that they find
themselves contented with their lives on Earth.”
“The reason is that our best of the best are gradually migrating to the countries that
promised them a still better live. About half of our academics, corporate managers and
blue chip shareholders have already left, selling our information technology to the
highest bidder, and we’re draining out of our capacity to keep our nation on the right
track. You can’t fight economical warfare; it’s an invisible enemy.”
She came back to her senses. “What has this to do with our settlement?”
Kovinsky skipped the question. “In economical terms, we hoped to survive for
another hundred years or so, but that shrunk to fifty, and now our experts are telling us
that it can happen every moment.”
“Happen what?”
“The end of our world as we know it, Elisabeth.”
She was totally dumbstruck.
“Trust me, Elisabeth, it’s all true and if you still don’t believe me, I still have some
more footage to show you. It’s started twenty-five years ago. It started with the water
reserves. About ninety percent of all freshwater sources have been bought up by the
second world countries. We managed to keep it under the lid, until it became clear we
couldn’t handle the problem anymore.”
Twenty-five years… from the time she first set foot on Mars… Kovinsky caught her
suspicion.
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“It’s not some cheap conspiracy, Elisabeth. In a couple of years at the most, most
rich countries will be extinct. We can’t fight economical wars; there are no visible
enemies.”
She did not have to ask for further explanation and Kovinsky knew she knew what
was going on. The United States was on the brink of collapsing. She was convinced
Kovinsky had spoken the truth and he and his rich and powerful mob had decided it was
time to leave the sinking ship as rats do.
She shot back an angry glare. “I see what you’re doing, John. You are fleeing away
from it. You leave your fellow-Americans behind to safe your own skin.”
Kovinsky shrugged, not much impressed by her hard words. “More will come in,
Elisabeth. We are just the vanguards. America’s fine fleur will leave Earth in due time
and we will be prepared to receive them. Bellum has decided to go last, to prove he’s
the Captain on the sinking ship.”
That was a remark that made her angry. She did not like that ‘we are the American
heroes who save the universe’ stuff. This was not the time to come up with college
football brawl.
“Mister Kovinsky, I’d really like to know what you mean by that fine fleur of yours.
To my knowledge that’s just a bunch of old billionaires licking the President’s boots
and vice versa and bringing along the trash we don’t want around here.”
“Come on, Elisabeth. Have you seen how thrilled your people were last night, with
the meat and the drinks and the good old apple pie? Don’t tell me they’ve become
Martians whatever that means to you.”
She felt frustrated with his words. Surely, they were true, but only in part. He had
overwhelmed them with his slick show and she was sure they would come to their
senses again, once they recognized his cheap tricks.
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Kovinsky seemed to read her mind. “Listen, Elisabeth. You are with two hundred
and fifty; you can handle them well. No problem with that, but more settlers will come
in and I am talking months, not years. In a short time, your system will not function
anymore. We’ll need schemes and structures that people can cope with.”
“And if the community refuses?”
Kovinsky’ eyes shot fire. “Let me tell you something, Elisabeth. You are conducting
a Darwinian experiment. So far, so good, but has it ever occurred to you that Darwin is
a double-edged sword? On the one hand, we tend to see successful species as strong and
cocksure, capable to fight their own battles. Survival of the fittest can have a completely
different meaning. Let’s imagine a dictator – do not see me as one, please – who
manages to bring law and order in his nation. Most of the people will adapt to him, even
if they know he’s not promising them heaven on Earth. For the time being, they are
doing well; they can still live their own lives and business goes on as usual. Others
however do not react so well on dictatorship and so they start to resist, and they are
hunted down, caught and confined. They have to overcome indignities and humiliations
and finally they end up in some mass grave unknown to the ones they were fighting for.
As most people get their money’s worth, whatever they are doing, they just wait to see
which way the wind blows and when the dictator clears out, they go back to their old
life as nothing happened. So, they were just a yellow-bellow bunch of cowards, but they
managed to survive and their children will benefit from their attitude and the heroes will
be long forgotten.”
What a load of bull, she thought irritably.
“I suppose you’re referring to your people as the bunch of cowards, John, but I fear
you might be wrong, and you know what happens to dictators who back up the wrong
horse. An angry mob will hang them high and dry and people will guard that future
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generations will not forget the nasty time they had gone through. Believe you me, John;
Darwin really works both sides.”
Kovinsky seemed not much impressed. “I want to agree with you, Elisabeth, but do
try not to forget Darwin is just a labeling method to define natural chaos, and remember
we’re not on Earth, Elisabeth. Don’t compare Mars with Earth.”
She sensed a hidden threat in his words and wisely decided not to push on, but still,
there was one question left.
“Who will run your – uh realm?”
“I will be leading the overall organization, ISS, Mars and the moons. By the way,
you might be pleased if I tell you that I have planned to use your people to hold the key
positions. As a matter of fact, two of your settlers have been selected already.”
“Which are?”
“Margaret Rinsford will be commander in chief of communication on the dome and
Dan Pelsmaker will back her up on the Wheel.”
She could not believe what she heard. What right did he have to undermine her
position? Moreover, why did they have to watch over the satellite dishes?
She looked so beaten that Kovinsky pulled traces of sympathy.
“I know it’s too much for one day, Elisabeth. I’d suggest you return to your quarters
and think it over.”
“Where will I find you?” Her voice sounded weak.
“Jim Horner will be our security officer here and he will act as your direct link to
me. Tomorrow I am off again. You can communicate with me through Horner’s
channels.”
“A security officer? Why for Chrissake, John? We don’t need security around here;
we have no crimes and we don’t need punishments.”
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“Every nation worth of being so, needs a security service, Elisabeth. And we want
this community to grow into a real nation, and sooner or later you’ll be glad we’ll have
an office running.”
We’re ready for the madhouse. She did not know how to handle all that upside down
information. The only thing she knew was that Kovinsky had turned a screw loose.
“By the way, Elisabeth, you might find this better news: your son Albert has been
granted a short leave next month. As I’m going to throw a party at your honor, I hereby
invite you to come over to the station so that at the same time you both can be united
again.”
She was close to yell ‘whoopee’ but instead she thanked him in a formal way. It was
the best news she heard since Kovinsky had arrived and for that, she was willing to
keep the lid on the Pandora box for the time being.
She stood up, but at the door, Kovinsky called her back. She swung back to him as a
willing child to her reproving dad’s voice. He was smiling, sending her intimate signals.
“Think it over, Elisabeth. I mean, about our relationship. It might be profitable not
only for the both of us, but for the colony as well.”
In particular, for Mister Kovinsky, Elisabeth thought while she headed back.
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19.
Kovinsky and his party had gone off to the Wheel again. They had left the soda pop,
but taken the party evidences with them, a granted gesture from Kovinsky to Elisabeth,
no doubt.
The community came to their senses again. As nothing fell out for the rest of the
week, Elisabeth was hoping to believe that it would not turn the way she had feared. It
was like they had lived in a bad dream. Kovinsky had left a keepsake in the shape of
Horner and two of his gang.
Fortunately, the agents did not meddle with them. They remained in their quarters
nearby the satcom, the satellite dish control room, and they filled their time with
installing a lot of electronic gear in their quarters. On the other hand, they let no one
come through to the satellite dish section. The area was declared restricted.
She was angry with Marge and Dan. Why had they not told her about it? They must
have known before Kovinsky threw his party. Dan was on the Wheel, so there was no
way she could reach him, Marge was in the satcom with seven of her people, and she
was obviously avoiding her.
Horner told Elisabeth that Margaret had to wait for further instructions. The dishes
were the main communication tool with the Wheel. In fact, they were of vital
importance as most of the control systems in the settlement were monitored by the
Wheel. Without them, they were completely isolated from the outside. With Marge and
Dan acting like Kovinsky’s watchdogs, they were hand and foot tied.
She felt betrayed, but tried to ignore it as good as possible and they went on with
their lives.
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Then, a month later, Kovinsky invited her and her group leaders to the promised
reception on the Wheel. She accepted his invitation readily, knowing she would see
Albert again.
The President of the Martian federation – a high-flown title for what it stood - had
objections about Jesus’ presence though; and therefore Elisabeth found it wise not to
take him along.
Of the others, only Linda, Howard and Andrea wanted to accompany Elisabeth. The
rest was perfectly happy living on Mars.
It had been a long time since she had set foot on the Wheel. It had blatantly changed
at the sight of it. New compartments built or in construction, more shuttles and
freighters constantly flying and floating along in perfect stack formations, and the
transit population was growing at a steady pace.
The reception took place in the exclusive VIP section, which Elisabeth had not
visited before.
Kovinsky had insisted the settlers would wear wigs, because they looked too
eccentric, but Elisabeth had rejected that firmly. She wanted these people to see what it
meant living on Mars.
It was a standing reception with champagne, caviar and other fine delicatessen that
Elisabeth and her people had forgotten about. Standing amidst people with such familiar
features, like Bellum’s spokesperson, and some major politicians and businesspeople,
made them feel ill at ease.
This section had broad panoramic windows that invited a 180 degrees view on the
sky. They could not see Mars from this angle, but maybe that was for the best, in case
they would become homesick.
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They were supposed to stay on the station for a week until the next shuttle would
take them back. Their quarters had the best room service any five star hotel would offer,
so for the time being they were in no hurry to get back.
Kovinsky did all that on purpose. Elisabeth was aware of that, and she knew he was
keeping a keen eye on her.
He walked up to the lecturer and the audience fell silent.
“Ladies and gentlemen, friends, first of all and with the utmost pleasure I introduce
you to our Mars colony manager, Doctor Elisabeth McIntosh. Please, Elisabeth, show
us where you are.’
It was embarrassing, but the least she could do was to nod and heave her glass to
him.
People started to applaud. For a moment, she wished she had the wig on.
“Doctor Elisabeth McIntosh has made it possible to turn this second expedition into a
real settlement. We owe her everything. Without her, I am sure that we would have
gone through a lot more trouble than we might anticipate. Now, we are convinced we
will go over this time. Therefore, I would like to make a toast. Dear Elisabeth, you have
showed us the way.”
A new round of applause and respectful glances later, Kovinsky went on.
“And it won’t stop here. We are planning to extend the colony by two thousand new
settlers within the next six months. Hundreds of them are here already, and hundreds are
on their way us as we speak. The dome will become a real small town, American style,
and from there on, it will expand and expand and soon Mars will be a real place to live
and send its own representative to Congress to look after our small yet grand colony.”
Elisabeth’s worst nightmare had come true. Standing here, with a glass of
champagne in one hand and caviar spread cream cracker in the other, she came to
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realize that Kovinsky was going to recreate Earth on Mars, which was against all
promised agreements.
She could not help to raise her voice.
“Excuse me, John, but what is going to happen to our community? It was understood
that we would be able to live the way we were promised and not what you or your board
of directors have in mind.”
The mood swung. Everyone stared at her in awe. This was not supposed to happen
and at the sight of it, even Kovinsky looked upset.
“Well, Elisabeth, we haven’t forgotten you of course. You and your crew will make
the new ones at ease and we will work together to make it happen.”
“And what do you understand by working together, John?” His voice had reached
the cutting edge. Kovinsky shove a bit aside, clearly feeling awkward with the way she
was making it hot for him.
“If you don’t mind, we’ll discuss that later on, Elisabeth. Of course, you will be
rewarded for your work. We will bring in the fruits of Earth civilization to start with, so
that you don’t turn into Martian cavemen.”
This remark made everyone, except the settlers, burst into laughter.
“We have no cavemen on Mars, John, unless you refer to your emigrants from
Earth.”
That was a great pun but only the settlers found it amusing. Kovinsky looked down
on her with a stern face. She had made him an enemy, Elisabeth was aware of, but she
looked back headstrong. Then a thin smile split his face.
“That’s a nice wisecrack, Elisabeth, and we hope we’ll keep our sense of funniness
when we’re living together on Mars. Now, people, I’d like to share with you how we
see the colony evolve.”
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He did not take heed to her anymore and she felt aggrieved. With that one-track
mind of his, it was no use trying to persuade him to join ranks with her. Being the direct
representative of America on Mars, he was politically immune so to speak, and the King
can do no wrong.
“For a while, we’ve played with the proposal of terra forming, but we have dropped
the idea for the simple reason we can’t even manage it on our own planet, so how would
we be able to do it on Mars? We are no gods, I am sorry to say, we are a vulnerable
species, despite our ten billion people on Earth. Without our collective strength and
superior brains, we would have been extinct a long time ago. As Earth has become a
dangerous place to live on, we have put the emphasis on Mars, the only planet with
livable conditions comparable to our planet. We have a long way to go yet. Maybe in a
hundred years from now, this colony will convert into a new society, and from then on,
the true Martian will arise. But we will not eyewitness this, unfortunately, and we
cannot afford to put our heads on the block and that is why we have decided to use the
trusted values, which we are familiar with on Earth. Mars will be the lab of a new
society, a social experiment that will continue forever.”
He just wanted to take all the credit, Elisabeth realized. She was not sure what really
got her goat, luring her people under false pretenses, or stealing all her work for the
benefit of his own fame and fortune.
She took her friends in; they all looked uptight, they all knew this was going terribly
off beam. And they stared at her in silent despair.
Her first impulse was to leave the shebang, as she had done on Independence Day,
but she did not want to make a fool of herself and her people. She just held her horses
and listened to the end of Kovinsky’s toast, which was full of self-glorification and the
cover up of his true intentions.
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She still could not trace Jack. She wondered if he was shunning from her. And where
was Dan?
Howard drew near her.
“We can locate where Dan is,” Howard whispered, as if he had read her mind.
“How?” she whispered back, trying not to look as if they were conspiring.
“Never mind that, just try to divert their attention. Mingle with the crowd, while I’m
having a piss-call.’
“Okay.”
He went away, walking heedlessly towards the men’s room. She clapped her eyes on
an elder man at the cold buffet, who was drinking steadily and clearly getting sloshed.
She approached him.
“Hi, I don’t recall having met you before. I’m Elisabeth McIntosh.”
He was about fifty-five, was overweight and his high pressure was readable from his
blushing face. He was clearly not one of Kovinsky’s new types of settlers to fill up the
dome; at least she hoped he would not be.
“I know who you are, doctor. Nice to meet you, I am Donald Quicksilver. Maybe
you’ve heard about me.”
That name rang a bell, but it was something from a long time ago. Then she
remembered.
“Are you by any chance the architect of Base Camp?”
Base Camp was the name for the first site. It was build by the mining company that
had paid her salary twenty-five years ago.
He was and he seemed pleased that Elisabeth had recognized him. She wondered
what he was doing here and asked him straight. He told her they were going to connect
all bases.
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“Why is that necessary?” she asked.
“You may recall that we have dug a service shaft from Base Camp to One Dome,
and while building Two Dome, somebody came up with the bright suggestion of linking
them all together. They started to dig a shaft from Two Dome, but after a kilometer or
so, they had to drop the works as funds run out. Now we’re rethinking the project and
that’s why I’m here.”
“Why should you do that?” The robot server came by on his roller skates. She
swapped his empty glass for a full one. She smelled the faint vodka odor. She chose a
Virgin Mary cocktail.
“Well, for starters, we’ll transform One Dome into an experimental breeding place
for growing grains, rye, and barley and so on. A green garden as in the good old days on
Earth.”
All ingredients to make alcoholic beverages, she thought bitterly. Dan and Pete
might get what they wanted.
“And we’ll import engineered life stock as well.”
The idea of breeding animals on Mars was like a sneaky back door to her little
paradise. It meant much more than only meat as a nutrient; it meant also building huge
power stations to have them grown, special nutrition they had to get from outside,
people nursing them, slaughterhouses, and meat markets. It meant erecting industries on
the planet, and she did not want a second industrial revolution happening on Mars.
‘That way we won’t depend of ISS anymore. We won’t need international help
either; everything will be in our hands.”
“That will up take some time,” she put forward.
“It may be sooner then you expect, doctor.” His enigmatic words sounded like a
warning to her.
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She focused on Jack. He should know what was going around here. It was not only
about new settlers, expanding the sites, it was more than that and she was desperate to
find out. Somehow, she felt it was her responsibility to go to the bottom of it, before it
was too late.
There was only one way to know. She got rid of Quicksilver who was too much
concentrating on his drinking anyway, and sought Kovinsky’s company. He was talking
to some gray haired bigwigs, but when he saw her coming, he left their company to join
her. He was not happy to meet her face to face; his looks spelled trouble.
“Well, Elisabeth, you’ve put me in an awkward position here. I was convinced we
had agreed we would have a friendly relationship from now one. Don’t you realize
these people do not want to hear bad news? And it’s only not mine, but your position as
well that might be in jeopardy. I’ll have it hard to defend you before the board.”
“Where is Jack, John?”
Her snappish question unsettled him, but then he snapped her back.
“Jack’s ill, Elisabeth, I’ve told you, but that’s not the issue here. The issue is that you
are acting foolishly. Let sleeping dogs lie.”
“Barking dogs don’t bite,” Elisabeth retorted in turn.
He smoothed down, knowing she was too head stubborn to reason with.
“Okay, what do you want from Jack? What can he tell you more than I can?”
“For once, he might tell me the truth – or some truth. I cannot trust you anymore,
John. You’ve conned me from the start on, and you’re still acting like a pathetic
conspirator.”
She had finally told him where he stood. Now he was on the ball.
His face blushed. He bit his lips, trying to hold his temper. His eyes were cold and
they shot baleful signals.
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“You know what the truth is, Elisabeth? The truth is a pair of trousers. If they’re too
tight, you can blame your tailor for taking the wrong measure or you can accept you are
overweight. I’m afraid you’ll have to live with your truth, Elisabeth. And by the way, I
might as well tell you now that you are relieved from your job. From now on, someone
else will take over. For the time being, I suggest you do not make daft scenes anymore
and return to your quarters. We’ll let you know what we decide.”
He briskly swung on his heels and walked off to his party.
She stood frozen, staring at his back until he was absorbed in the crowd.
So, that’s it, she realized. It was a setup from the onset. He would have told me his
decision eventually, and this had turned out to be the perfect moment. She put her half-
finished cocktail on the buffet. Its red color reminded her too much of bloodshed.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. A grim, ready to fight
expression showed about her mouth, but then she thought of Albert. She could not bring
his job in peril; her wounded pride should not mix up his career. She eased off,
accepting she was defeated and powerless.
Jack. Kovinsky had clearly parried her question. There was something fishy with
Jack. Last time she had seen him, he had looked tucked up, but not ill. He must be
around and she wanted to find him.
She left with her head held high. She felt Kovinsky’s stare burning in her back.
Her quarters were about two hundred meters from the party zone. The door slit open
at the sound of her voice. Inside, Andrea was facing Dan, who sat at the edge of the bed.
She was holding a device in her hand, which Elisabeth recognized as a laser stunner. It
was not deadly if you handled it with care, but it could put nasty burns on your skin.
“What’s happening here, Andrea? Why the gun? And what the hell’s happening with
you, Dan?”
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“Dan’s spying on us, Elisabeth.”
Elisabeth sat down and stared at Dan. His face was cream cheese pale and expressed
deep fear.
“Kovinsky’s playing tricks on us,” Andrea went on. Her voice was tense but her
hand did not tremble and the gun aimed point-blank at Dan’s belly, which was the worst
spot, and Dan knew that too. He sat limply looking from the gun to Elisabeth, his eyes
begging for mercy.
“I had to, Elisabeth. It’s the price I had to pay to go to Mars.”
“Why did you have to, Dan? You could do without Kovinsky,” Elisabeth put
forward.
Dan sat crouching, a miserable looking lad who knew they looked down on him as
the despicable creature he must be in their eyes.
Then he burst into tears. The women were perplexed at this unexpected move, but
they did not come to his rescue. He finally soothed and gazed at Elisabeth with wet
eyes.
“I’ve wanted to go to Mars all my life, Elisabeth. It was my only chance. If I had
stayed on Earth, I would surely have kicked the bucket myself. Remember what
happened on the shuttle. I was that close to be sent back. But John pulled me through.”
“What did John tell you to do?” Elisabeth asked in a soft voice, the kind she used in
therapy.
“He offered me the job of communication officer. I have to monitor the dome and
file in reports regularly.”
“Have you been spying on our privacy?” Andrea bit at him.
He shook his head, wavered for a moment. “No, no, nothing of the sort. It’s only in
the public places. And the sensors and lenses are hidden in the toy pets.”
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Icy silence. They gaped at him astounded. These little charming domestic creatures
had been spying on them all the time.
“And what do these toys do?” Andrea went on. Her voice had that tone that made
Elisabeth think of hardboiled detectives. Or secret agents.
“They’re mainly sending recorded psycho-metrical data to the Wheel where I pick
them up, translate and report to John. I don’t know what he does with it, but, trust me,
Elisabeth, I’ve never wanted to hurt you or the people, you’re my friends, believe me.”
She believed him. He was double-crossed like all of them. Kovinsky was playing it
masterly. She had a pretty good idea why he was processing them, but she wanted
evidence from the only person who could tell her more.
“Do you know where Jack Armstrong is, Dan?”
Dan had a sheepish look.
“Armstrong? He’s dead. He took his own life.”
You could have heard a pin drop. They gaped at him. He was not aware he had
brought them the worst message possible.
“Why do you say that, Dan, have you any proof?” Elisabeth spluttered, taken aback
by the unanticipated news. It was hard for her to accept that Jack would kill himself.
Dan shrugged. It was not of his concern; he did not know Armstrong, he mumbled,
then his face cleared.
“Oh yes I remember he had put in a request for an e- kit.”
A euthanasia kit for Jack? As a rule, they gave them to people who asked for it, and
who showed the defined symptoms they could not cope anymore with space but on the
other hand did not want to return to Earth either. It was their safe way out and shortcut
of their wretched life. In most cases, nobody made a big deal of it; space after all was
not the place to discuss moral issues over life and death. But Jack?
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“Why did they grant it? He wasn’t old, he wasn’t terminal, he could have sought
professional help,” Elisabeth asked herself aloud, and at the same time, she recalled his
uncharacteristic behavior on ISS 3. He had cried out for help and she had not heard.
Dan again shrugged his shoulders, desperately wanting to get away from that
dreadful gun.
“Don’t ask me, Elisabeth. I’m just the messenger.”
Elisabeth arched to him, her eyes piercing in his.
“Dan, bear with me. You can’t go on working for John anymore. He’s trying to
damage the community and by the time we find out, it will be too late. You have to join
us again, be part of us again, or you might land up like Jack.”
Just now, it occurred to Dan that Jack’s death sounded suspiciously. He was startled
and asked Elisabeth what to do.
“For the time being, I want you to go on with your business, but try to dig up what
you can on Jack. Usually people, who decide to end their lives, leave a message behind.
No one wants to depart without a last posting. You have entrance to the system. Find
me that message.”
Dan straightened his back. “Elisabeth, trust me, I didn’t know. I am at your site at all
times. If John is playing a foul game, I will not be in it. I will see what I can do. If you
want to reach me, this is my code number.”
He wrote it on a piece of paper. Andrea put the gun down, beckoned him to leave,
and Dan heaved a sigh and dashed off.
Elisabeth and Andrea exchanged worried looks. They were conscious that things
were deteriorating.
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“I can see now why Dan had to spy on us,” Elisabeth said pensively. “Kovinsky
simply waited for the right time to strike, the moment he was certain we all would be
ready for it by his criteria, whatever they are.”
“I guess you’re right, Elisabeth. I’ve been asking myself and now we know the
answer.”
Elisabeth stared at the gun on the table. “Andrea, I want you to level with me. You
are not the ordinary animal watchers, you and your husband. You are more like
intelligence people or whatever they call it nowadays. What’s going on here?”
Andrea stored the gun away in her jumpsuit and started to tell in measured words.
Elisabeth listened carefully, did not interrupt her, and when Andrea had finally got
through her story, she knew they had a war on their hands.
Andrea and Howard turned out to be agents for ISA, and their mission was to rub out
Kovinsky.
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20.
Three days after the unfortunate reception, Kovinsky’s hulks, by surprise, took the
settlers in custody. The charge was committing terrorist acts resulting in sabotaging the
satcom section.
To the settlers this accusation was totally unfounded and Elisabeth had insisted on a
personal confrontation, but she could not reach Kovinsky anymore. The goons, who
acted like their wardens, had heard that explosives had destroyed the place.
The Wheel had neither proper jail nor real wardens. The hulks took them to a still
unfinished windowless storage room, a large empty space without artificial gravity.
They had to float all the time or strap themselves to their chairs and bunks. It was a
dreadful situation, but they could cope with it, having grown into hardened Mars
dwellers. Bleak fluorescent ceiling lights plunged them in a gloomy atmosphere.
Then, four days later things took an unexpected turn.
First, Albert dropped by. He had put in a formal request to see his mother and
Kovinsky could only grant it as Albert had nothing to do with Wheel’s management and
Kovinsky was in no position to wake up sleeping dogs on Earth.
Albert floated towards Elisabeth who had strapped herself to her chair. He clamped
to the table, they kissed, and Elisabeth was barely able to hold back her tears while she
told him about the situation.
“Wow, that’s kind of a mess, Mom, but don’t be afraid. It will all clear out.
Kovinsky can’t leave you here forever; this station is United Nations property and there
are still laws to follow. He can’t stow you away just like that, and even if his allegations
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prove to be right, he must turn you over to the proper authorities. He’s not king Tut
around here.”
She stopped sobbing. “You might be surprised, Albert. He’s became a despot, he’s
the law unto himself.”
“I’m thinking of something. Couldn’t we apply for habeas corpus?”
“You mean to challenge him over detention in a court of law? I hardly think there’s a
law court around here, Albert, and besides, he’s accusing us of rebellion, and that
doesn’t apply for habeas corpus.”
Still, talking about law and order made her aware that Kovinsky had to be careful
with his unruly actions. Earth laws protected them and they still had political rights if
any.
She asked Albert if he could pull strings. He grimaced.
“Mom, I could only pass after I signed a statement I’d do nothing of the sort.
Kovinsky is a sly old fox and he knows if I break my promise, it would harm you as
well.”
She understood. Albert was an engineer, not a freedom fighter. Nevertheless, he
could still raise some hell in the right circumstances.
“I don’t want you to be harmed, Albert; just try to find us a way out of here. I need to
go back to see for myself. But try to stay out of trouble at the same time.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Mom. In the meanwhile, I must return to my workstation on
Phobos; they need me up there. But I’ll figure out some cunning plan to warn Earth
about it.”
“Your future comes in the first place, Albert. Before you will do something, you
would regret afterwards, I’m begging you to keep your head cool. We’re dealing with a
dog-eat-dog man here.”
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A computerized voice told Albert his time was up.
“I’m going now, Mom. Don’t be afraid, everything’s going to be all right, I promise
you.”
He had spoken idle yet comforting words, but they made her feel good. They were
not alone.
After he had left, Elisabeth still had qualms about involving Albert in her mess, and
for the first time since months, she prayed to herself and afterwards she felt stronger and
somehow she was certain they all would turn out well.
Though they had no windows to the outside, they still had the monitor screen
connected to the Wheel’s TV-network. At three a.m. next morning, the news was all
about the revolt, stating that the community had taken over power, that they had
declared Elisabeth McIntosh a traitor and that they had overtaken the satcom section at
the same time and shut off all communications.
They all were hooked on the screen, but the anchorman ended with a cliffhanger that
the rebels had to surrender within twenty-four hours and open the doors for Kovinsky’s
Praetorians.
The news hurt Elisabeth. She was branded as sleeping with the enemy and her own
people had declared her persona non grata. At the same time she took comfort from the
understanding that the settlers’ action proved they had put their heads together and
transformed into a tight community that wanted to defend its given rights.
According to the newsflash, Jesus was the leader of the pack. His first feat was to
take Horner and his people in hostage. The first rebel on Mars turned out to be a peace-
loving man of the cloth.
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Twenty-four hours later, Kovinsky declared negotiations were over and he was going
to move on to drastic actions. In his wicked mind, he had ordered that the operation’s
completion would be broadcast to show off his delusive power.
They clustered round the monitor, watching breaking news. Two shuttles were
headed to Mars with a lot of armed agents on board. It would take some time before
new footage would come in, and they switched the screen off to talk about it. None of
them felt much appetite; they left the food untouched and looked glooming about.
Linda was holding hands with Elisabeth in despair, wanting to find reassurance from
her.
“We’re not staying here forever,” Elisabeth said in a firm voice. “My son will see to
it, and we still have Dan on our side.”
“What can they do about it, Elisabeth?” Linda mumbled. She was really beaten, but
Elisabeth knew she would come out of it stronger. That was her nature.
“They can do a lot, Linda. Albert will inform Earth and we’ll have an investigating
team in no time.”
It sounded a bit false, and Howard sensed it.
“You know Kovinsky has complete control over communications, Elisabeth.
Nothing goes out if he does not want to. I have my doubts that Earth knows about it yet,
or ever will if nothing comes out. Besides, we’re not sure at all he’s really sending
troops over. It could be part of this big hoax.”
Howard’s remark made her believe he might be right. Maybe Kovinsky had set up
this show on purpose just to remind them he was on top of things. She fervently hoped
it was true.
Howard went on. “So, I think we should concentrate on Dan. He has free access and
he should be able to get us out of here.”
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Elisabeth agreed. She wanted desperately to go home again. The idea of Kovinsky’s
agents storming in on her little community kept rambling on her mind.
“I’m frightened when I think of these men who’re going to invade our little
paradise,’ Linda said in a moved tone.
“I’m sure Jesus knows how to handle the situation, Linda, we just have to keep our
senses,” Elisabeth soothed. Mendez was a religious leader, and religion had always
proved to be a stronger factor in the face of disasters than politics and ideologies.
The hours crept by, and by the break of dawn, they esteemed Kovinsky’s troops must
have entered the dome by now and have done what they were supposed to do.
At eight o’clock, finally breaking news announced that, at seven thirty a.m., the
rescue team has secured the dome’s periphery and they had sent a last warning to the
rebels to surrender. The ultimatum would run out at eight thirty. The hostages were in
good health according to the rebels.
Now we are in a state of insurgence, Elisabeth thought bitterly.
“They still haven’t entered the dome,” Howard said and they stared at him
questioning.
“They should have had ample time to do so,” he went on. “Something must’ve gone
wrong down there, or the community’s giving them a hard time which they hadn’t
expected, or the gate is simply closed on them. Posing an ultimatum seems to me to a
bit of a stroke of desperation.”
“What if they don’t accept?” Andrea asked herself.
“I'm afraid they’ll lose their heads and will storm in like blindfolded bulls.”
“That’s madness,” Elisabeth called out. “They’ll destroy everyone and everything,
and themselves as well. A kid knows you can’t just barge in on a Martian station and
turn everything to shreds.”
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“I know, but these bastards have been trained to do as they were told. They’re all
brawns and no brains.”
“We’ve got to get out of here and the sooner the better,” Elisabeth decided.
At the sight of it, they fully agreed.
“We can blast our way out,” Howard said. “We have e-pods,” he clarified.
Andrea nodded in approval and the others looked ignorant. She explained.
“Evacuation pods. They’re two persons one way ticket lifeboats, designed for once-
only use, simple to handle, just a couple of push buttons and you’re off. They are meant
to hit the nearest humanized targets, which are Mars and Phobos, depending how they
have been programmed. Once you have landed, you wait for your relief. I suppose
they’re all still here, all twenty-two of them.”
“Only twenty-two?” Andrea echoed with raised brows.
“Yes, it is a Titanic situation so to speak. They are destined to the people who are
vital to the organization. The others have to wait their turn for the shuttles to come. Not
much of democracy around here.”
“Definitely, but we’ll use them first,” Andrea said, smiling at the outlook of getting
away with Kovinsky’s designated pods.
They all seemed to revive, perked up by Howard’s gateway plan.
“First we have to break out of here,” he went on.
“Dan’s the only one who can get us out of here, he’s got access,” Andrea said,
looking at Elisabeth.
“I agree, but how do we reach him?” Elisabeth asked herself. She was thrilled having
learned that the pods could be aiming for Phobos. That was where Albert was.
“I know a way round,” Andrea said. She turned her face tot the intercom.
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Elisabeth got the message. “You’re going to use the same trick as you did with
Jesus?”
“Sort of, we’ll simply send Dan a message he’ll understand.”
“And that is?”
“A message we can only share with him.”
Howard cut in. “So you suppose, just by telling him to come over to talk about
whatever, you won’t raise suspicion? What if Kovinsky finds out?”
“We’ll have to gamble that Kovinsky is glued to his communication set, watching
the news from Mars.”
“It might work,” Elisabeth concluded.
“If someone has a better suggestion, now it’s the time to get it out,” Andrea said in a
defiant voice, but no one had.
“Okay then, it’s about time Kovinsky’s ultimatum is expiring. He will be too busy
waiting for new instead of watching over Dan. I want to send that message now. Has
any one has a suggestion how to put it in words?”
“Tell him – ask for an e- kit and let him bring it personally,” Elisabeth said.
They gazed at her as if she had just decided to use it on herself.
“Why an e-kit?” Howard asked in wonder.
“I have no doubt that John is generous with these kits. I’m sure he’ll get the hint, and
I think I know how his mind works.”
“Maybe you do, Elisabeth, but you just can’t ask for a suicide kit without going
through the proper channels. You must have a damned good reason to start with,”
Howard went on.
“Such as?”
“Well, there are so many criteria; I don’t know what to begin with.”
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“Let’s consider age.”
“In that case, I’d say they’re less reluctant if you’ve reached a certain age. They can’t
have older people around here; they just eat up the supplies.”
“What age are we talking about?”
“Forty-five is the minimum age. From then on, it’s easier to lay your hands on the
kits. No preliminary examinations, no doctors or shrinks around you. No one expects an
aging person to stay around much longer.”
“And how old am I?”
“Huh – about forty-ish if I’m correct,” Howard replied, clearly rumpled now.
“So, if I’ve decided that my world’s tumbling down because of Kovinsky’s bad
treatment. Why shouldn’t I just put and end to it? Remember I’m a traitor in his eyes
and an enemy of the state, and maybe I know too much for his good night’s rest. And
also remember I’m persona non grata to my own community, so my life’s over as I’m
concerned.”
“That’s a lot of criteria, Elisabeth.” Howard hung back. It was obvious he had no
wish to continue their weird conversation much longer.
“Look. Kovinsky’s gone crackers, we all agree, right? If he finds out one of us wants
a kit, chances are that his pervert mind will convince himself it is I who’s given up, and
that would suit him perfectly. No more Elisabeth McIntosh. He’s not afraid of you
people; it’s I he’s concerned with. I’m the cat among the pigeons, and he knows I’ll
raise hell if I come out alive here.”
Andrea gave a yell. “I see what you mean; it’s the perfect way out. He’ll testify that
you’ve put an end to it, and use the kit as your excuse.”
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“You’re perfectly right, Andrea. That’s what I’ve been thinking myself. So, let’s not
waste any more time. Send the following message to Dan: ‘Emergency – bring
euthanasia kit yourself– I want to say farewell to you. Elisabeth.”
Andrea started to work on the intercom, and when they heard the static rustling
coming to life, they all heaved a sigh of relief.
She pushed in Dan’s code number and then softly spoke in Elisabeth’s message.
Then she canned the intercom and they all stared at it, waiting for some sort of
response.
Nothing came about.
After a while, Linda said what they all were secretly thinking. “He hasn’t got the
message.”
“Probably he’s out for lunch,” Howard suggested and it was such a funny remark
that they had to smile despite themselves.
“Maybe we ought to try again,” Andrea said. “Or maybe he doesn’t understand what
you’re talking about.”
“He must have gotten it,” Elisabeth stubbornly refuted. “Just wait; he’s a long way
from here.”
It was just a way of comforting them, but she too was starting to grow fear. If Dan
did not come over, they would not have any chance left to get away.
Then, the intercom cracked and they all jumped to their feet.
“Elisabeth, it’s me, Dan. I’m almost at your doorstep, I’m coming in now.”
Dan was alone. He opened the door with his access card and came floating in,
carrying a pencil shaped red plastic canister.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting, guys, but I needed some time to convince your
wardens with the help of Mister Booze to look the other side if you know what I mean.”
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Dan was beaming, and they all surrounded him, congratulating and wishing him a
hearty welcome.
“Boy, I’m glad to be with you, guys. Here’s the box, Elisabeth. I am surprised I
could lay my hands on that kit at such short notice, really. The guy from the morgue
called staff and for some odd reason, they had no guilty conscience. I didn’t even have
to fill in the paperwork, and here it is, ready made and courtesy of Mister Kovinsky.
Who’s going to use it?”
“Nobody, Dan. It’s our way out, and you’ll be our guide. We want you to take us
outside,” Elisabeth said. She felt a shiver across her spine looking at the infamous
canister. Inside there was enough poison to kill an elephant.
Dan put the kit back in his breast pocket and fluttered his eyelids. “What? Me?
Now?”
“That’s right, Dan, now and straight to the e-pods.”
“The e-pods? Are you nuts? We can’t get in there; it’s strictly forbidden zone. You
can’t use the e-pods; they’re for the executives only.”
Elisabeth held her temper. She realized habits were hard to overcome with a person
like Dan, who had been a submissive law and order guy all his life.
“That’s why we’re using them, Dan. You know the way out and you’re coming with
us. Lead us along.”
Dan could not stand Elisabeth’s harsh sounding voice, so he grumbling submitted
himself to his new fate.
They went out. Thanks to Dan’s access pass, he could bamboozle the sensors, which
kept quiet while they were crossing the perimeters. No hulks bouncing into them. It
looked like Dan’s wile with the liquor paid off. After a couple of curves, they landed up
at an elevator. Dan used his pass again and they went up. Three floors later, they stood
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in a deserted gangway, a stretch with dim inspection lights and the further they half ran
and half walked, the more gravity took over. Another door with a “Staff only’ stenciled
on it, and again Dan proved to be worth his weight in gold, but this time, a blaring siren
went off that scared the hell out of them.
“They’ll be here in a minute,” Dan yelled aghast and at his words, they stepped on it
and they ran lurching to the lock gates that held the e-pods.
The gates did not need any clearance admission; they just opened with a slight push
and there they were, all pods sitting neatly in a row, each in their own launching path.
“Just push the green button and climb in,” Howard shouted. His voice was agitated
and he kept looking over his shoulder.
Elisabeth had the creeps too. If they would catch them at this very moment,
Kovinsky would show no mercy, but it was too late now to reconsider; they had to take
that bouncing road.
Elisabeth pushed the button; the small metal door slit open and at the same time red
emergency lights inside switched on, showing them the pod’s belly. She clumsily
climbed in with Linda on her site, while Howard and Andrea took the next one. Dan
was alone in his pod.
The door slit tight again and a small monitor screen came to live, flashing a message
to put on the harnesses, which they did with trembling hands.
Without further ado, in a serial of high-pitched explosions, the bolts cracked off and
before they knew, they were out in space. They had not prepared for this kind of trip to
hell and for a terrible moment, they were falling fast before the rockets took them up
again. Linda was screaming when they rushed out of the Wheel and into the void.
The pod had no windows, only dim red lights. It was like on a roller coaster, going
up and down, sideways, and it made no noise at all, which was the most frightening.
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They were pressed against the ceiling while they were falling down. Elisabeth was
grateful she had Linda at her side, though Linda had to throw up and her breakfast came
out in perfect little orange balls. The stench of her bile filled the space. Elisabeth held
her in her arms to comfort her, though she herself was enduring a thousand terrors.
To her relief the screen told them they were on their way to Phobos and they would
land in ten minutes.
The pod had only two buttons: green and red. The red one read Life support ending,
a sinister message which could only mean, that in case, the pod did not reach its
destination safe and well, the final solution was here before their eyes. Pushing the red
button would mean a fast and merciful finale without the mortal fear of being stuck in
this coffin, suffocating slowly up to the point that you knew you were going to die with
their last breathe.
The desolate looking pockmarked potato shaped rock of Phobos came nearer and for
a fearful while, Elisabeth was certain they would crash into it, but then the rockets
backfired and the pod slackened down, pushing them back to the floor. Linda screamed
her lungs out when the pod hit the surface of Phobos in three big jumps, scraping and
sliding across the rocky surface. They instinctively lifted their feet, fearing the floor
would tear open, but then they came to a sudden stop.
They stared bewilderedly to the screen that showed what their outside camera picked
up, but saw nothing but a thin vertical strip of dull rock, the pod having landed on its
side. Elisabeth had a fit of panic. Nobody had told her what the next step would be.
They could not get out; they could not stay inside for long. She could not detect air
indicators, which maybe was for the better. They heard the soft whooshing of oxygen
and Linda was fast breathing.
“We’re going to die here,” she whispered.
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Elisabeth put her arms around her again. “Don’t be afraid, Linda. We are safe now,
Albert will pick us up soon; the pod must be sending distress signals to him and he
should know by now. Try to relax; we’ve got to spare our air.”
At her comforting words, Linda eased down and tried to suppress her sobbing, still
overwhelmed by the frightful experience. The silence outside was absolute, no sound
that could mean rescue.
Then, a mighty fist clung on to the pod and pulled it with so much brutal force that
their heads bounced into each other. The screen view and the light suddenly died down
and it was as pitch-black as hell. Linda shrieked as they were brutally pulled away, and
with every surface bump, they were smashed about in the scraping metal. Elisabeth
tried to keep herself together. It was like a monster that was dragging them along to its
den for its tasty lunch break. When the bouncing stopped, they heard sounds, metallic
sounds coming from outside, sounds of human presence and it was like music in the ear.
Hissing blowtorches were torturing the pod and jackhammers were torturing their ears
with loud banging.
Then it was over. A hole in the pod was ripped out, light shone in, and faces were
glaring at them.
“Mom?”
Albert was staring at her with his mouth open, not believing what he saw.
“Help us out of this frigging’ thing, Albert.”
“Are you alright, Mom?” Albert said in a worried tone. He cautiously held her up
and she clamped on to him, trembling all over.
She was still not fully aware they had landed in one piece, and that Albert’s trusted
face was close to her. She came to her senses, stretched her hand and her fingers gently
caressed his face.
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“I’m okay, Albert, thanks heaven we’ve landed here and in one piece. There are two
more pods, I don’t know where they are, please try to find them.”
They were helped out of the pod and for a while, they had to adapt to Phobos' zero
gravitation. Albert was not alone; about ten men and women were standing in their
magnetic boots, watching them with curious eyes. They were in an entrance hall
immersed with floodlights, apparently some sort of garage with tools and machinery.
The people helped them into a standing-by tractor.
Albert stayed behind. “I’m going to look for the others now, Mom; I’ll see you in a
while.”
“Do you know where they are?” Elisabeth hastily asked.
“Still outside, but don’t worry. Just go with these guys and have a hot shower first.”
She kissed him on the cheek and then they were off, taking a down sloping tunnel
entrance, carrying them into Phobos’ bowels.
There were about thirty workers on the satellite, most of them with an engineering
job, about twenty-five males and five females. They welcomed them heartedly and soon
Elisabeth and Linda were feeling at ease. This small solitary commune of workers
seemed to have a nice life on that small potato that passed the Martian hemisphere twice
a day, six thousand kilometers from Mars.
In the bathroom, Linda and she inspected their bodies; they had bruises all over, but
otherwise they were okay and after a hot shower, they landed up in the tiny sickbay
where an energy stimulator revived their senses again. They had a hot cup of chicken
consommé and little by little, they got hold of themselves. The female workers shared
their company and made them feel at home soon.
After an hour, Albert returned, alone.
“Where are Andrea and Howard and Dan?” Linda asked.
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Elisabeth saw traces of fatigue on Albert’s face and she found it wisely to let him
come to his senses first. She poured him a cup of consommé.
Albert drew near Elisabeth, looking crestfallen.
“Mom, about the others. We can haul only one pod at the time in for safety reasons.”
“What do you mean?” Elisabeth suddenly felt frightened, knowing something was
going wrong.
“Well, it’s like this. E-pods are programmed to select the best landing zones. Phobos
is a small rock. We cannot handle more than one pod at the same time, otherwise,
accidents will happen. They might crash into each other or the rescue efforts would take
too much of our time. So, the other pods will probably have decided to land somewhere
else. ”
“What do you mean, Albert?” she asked agitatedly. “Where are Howard and Andrea
and Dan?”
“I’m not sure, but if they’d landed on this rock, we should have picked up their
distress signals by now. So, in my opinion they overshot to Mars and in deferring
directions.”
“You mean that the other two pods might have landed on Mars?”
“They should have. I mean, these pods intercommunicate with each other to take
different routes for safety reasons.”
His words had a sinister undertone. If the other pods had landed on Mars, who then
would come to rescue them? The dome was sealed off hermetically and surrounded by
Kovinsky’s people who would not give a damn. Albert seemed to evade her questioning
glance. She was aware something had gone terribly wrong.
She desperately hung onto Albert. He should know the answers.
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21.
Albert did not know the answer.
They were sitting at the dining table, strapped in their belts, slightly moving with the
moon’s fast orbiting course and tenderly holding hands.
“I’m sorry, Mom; we can’t do a thing about it. I’m afraid it’s up to the dome to
rescue them.”
“Can’t you go there with your shuttle?”
“We don’t have shuttles, Mom. When we need one, we call the Wheel. This rock is
not suited for launching facilities.”
The Wheel… That meant Kovinsky.
“There are three people waiting for our help, Albert. I can’t just sit here doing
nothing, knowing they might be dying.”
“Unless they push the right button, Mom,” Albert said in a calm voice. He knew the
drill.
“Oh my God… it’s my fault,” she whispered; now fully realizing that she had lured
them into a deadly trap.
“Don’t accuse yourself, Mom, what you did was an act of sheer bravery, and I hope
that sonuvabitch will end up in hell.”
“Albert…”
“Sorry, Mom, but Kovinsky should get what he deserves.”
“How much time do they have in the pods?”
“You mean, oxygen-wise? About five hours – six if they can get out before their
brains melts.”
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“So they have approximately four to five hours left.”
“That’s right, Mom. It will take a rescue team from the Wheel about an hour to find
them and take them back. That is to say, if Kovinsky would be willing.”
“Have you been able to contact Earth yet?”
“I’m sorry, Mom. Can’t do. Kovinsky has cut off all external lines. I can’t reach
Earth until the next shuttles arrive, and that’ll take at least another week.”
Elisabeth had already made up her mind. She looked Albert in the eye.
“Call him up. I want a truce.”
Albert looked at her, round-eyed.
“You’re going to surrender to him? Do you know how he’ll react to that?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll soon find out.”
Albert had mixed feelings, but he knew his mother could raise hell, and they surely
could do without it.
“Okay then, I’ll call Kovinsky. What do you want me to tell him?”
“Tell him – tell him I want to discuss his proposal, but first he has to rescue the
pods.”
“What proposal would that be, Mom?”
“Never mind, Albert, just see they’re sending a team down there and on the double.”
Albert went off and Elisabeth leaned back with closed eyes. She felt worn out
because of the horrific flight. She was feeling awkward, knowing she had to face
Kovinsky again, and as Albert had pointed out, she was not sure how he would react.
It seemed to take an eternity, but thanks to the making of Linda and the other
women, who acted as her fellow-sufferers, they managed to take the burden of her
shoulders while they were anxiously waiting.
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Albert was back within half an hour. “The rescue team is on its way, Mom. They will
drop their package on the Wheel and on their way back, they will pick you up. You
better prepare for the journey; it won’t take long before they’re here.”
She was so relieved that at first she forgot what fate was awaiting her. She would not
see Albert again, maybe for a long time to come. She had made a terrible choice:
rescuing her people and losing her son, but she could not back off anymore.
“Can’t you go with me, Albert? I can use all the support I can get.”
Albert shook his head sadly. “He requested you, Mom, and no one else.”
“I see. Right then, let’s prepare for it.”
“Before you go, I want you to see something, Mom,” Albert said. He had a palm-size
video device in his hand.
“I’m going to show you the video we’ve made when we first explored Pho’s surface.
You may recall I have told you we ran into some weird things, and we were right. This
rock had been used for military reasons before.”
She was thankful for his attempt to take her mind off the upcoming event.
“I remember, Albert. So what could be interesting for me to know?”
He fast-forwarded until they watched images of a caved crater, the remainders of a
meteorite impact long ago.
The camera showed human traces, just as Albert had told her, pieces of equipment,
wires, and a fuse box.
“Now we’re entering the cave, watch carefully.”
The camera’s flashlight focused on a gunmetal colored door. Elisabeth stared
transfixed to it. That image was so weird. The template letters on the door caught her
attention. It read ‘USSA’.
“What’s the meaning of all this?”
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“Bear with me, you’ll see for yourself in a second.”
The camera zoomed in, and just now, her eyes fell upon a small metal engraved plate
on the door. It read ‘USSA Property ISS Phobos E-Sys– restricted area.’
She turned to Albert. “What does it mean?”
“We’ve been discussing this. Since we are no part of the military, we were as
surprised as you were. What I’ve figured out is that some time ago – could be ten years
as well – this rock had been declared military zone; and we’re thinking that ‘ISS
Phobos e-sys’ means that there’s a military computer server hidden behind that door.
We think it’s a network structure that's linked to the Wheel. We don’t know what it
means, but it sure is a hell of a mystery. It could mean nothing though, or it could mean
a lot, we simply can’t make out.”
“I’ll see if I can find out,’ she said.
“You are not going to jeopardize your life, are you, Mom? I mean, asking the wrong
questions could be a bit risky.”
He was kind enough to put it in less threatening words, but she was strongly aware
she was going to stir up the hornet’s nest.
“Don’t worry, Albert. Just remember I’m your mother.”
He could not help smiling, recalling how she had raised him on her own, and having
done a great job with it. No, perhaps Kovinsky would be the one to pity.
The intercom beeped. It was time to leave.
She did not want to make a fuzz of it, no farewells and no weeping. This was not the
time to get sentimental. She even did not want Albert to wave her out.
He led her to the wardrobe where they helped her in a worker's space suit. They
hugged and off she went, alone.
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Outside the airlock, four men wearing matted helmets were waiting for her, their
shuttle’s door invitingly opened.
Her guards were the typical silent type of agents and they made her feel as their
prisoner. She sat in the back with no sight outside, which she was thankful for. It did
not take a long time to reach their destination and when they arrived on the Wheel
again, only then she started to panic. She had taken all that trouble to escape from it,
and now she was back. And Kovinsky was waiting for her.
The arrival was less worrisome than she expected. She was actually welcomed as a
guest. Two women, who seemed to have gotten strict orders not to talk to her, helped
her out of the wear and into a fresh overall. Everything happened in silence.
They did not lead her to Kovinsky’s office straight away, but instead they went to his
private chambers. They put her in a kind of corporate skyscraper anti-chamber, very
trendy in light earthly colors and modern furniture.
She sat on a crackling leather coach that must have arrived from some large British
mansion on Earth.
She felt very small, expecting at any moment a fire-spitting Kovinsky storming in,
but nothing of the sort happened. Obviously he was stalling her on purpose, and wanted
her to be on her knees before he entered. He made a good job of it. By the time he came
in, an hour later, she had gotten cold feet and sat frozen at the sight of him.
He was dressed in the latest fashion, expensive white silk shirt, black woolen
trousers, and anti-static moccasins and he looked keen and perky.
She had feared there would be hell to pay, but instead, he sat at her side, took her
hand and stroked it as nothing had happened since her escape.
The first things on her mind were her fellow-escapees and she asked him where they
were.
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“Don’t worry about that, Elisabeth, I’ve kept my word. They are safe in the station.
Just have some patience. They are in quarantine as a way of precaution. Why don’t you
first refresh yourself before dinner?”
She wanted to ask more, but he lifted his hand with three golden rings that sparkled
in the lights.
“First, we see that you feel at ease, Elisabeth. I know you have been through a bad
patch. Why don’t you slip into something comfortable and then we’ll dine together. No
hard feelings, Elisabeth, and I hope we’ll continue in a more apt way, like grownups
do.”
She did not know how to deal with his one-way talk and decided to give away. If it
would take to be a good girl, she might as well take part in his little charade.
He led her to the en-suite door and opened it for her, gallantly inviting her in.
“This is the bedroom; the opposite door leads to the bath room. If you feel you are
ready for dinner, just push this button here. Someone will come to fetch you.”
Then he discretely closed the door behind her.
His bedroom was opulent. It even had a four-poster bed with a ceiling mirror. She
immediately went into the bathroom and cleansed herself with hot water.
Women’s cloths lay on the bed: a long silk black floral gown with a deep vee front
and long halter straps tie behind the neck and a black ruche waist. Brown leather round
toe pumps accompanied the robe.
All that must have cost megabucks, and she flattered herself he did all that trouble
for her alone.
He had even thought of a wig in her old hairdo. She took it up, strongly felt the urge
to put it on, but then decided not to wear it. That life was over and if he was fantasizing
about middle-aged vamps, then he was barking up the wrong tree.
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At least, he had the decency to consider her measurements and she had to admit she
looked terrific, inspecting herself in the floor-length mirror. Her slim body showed
perfectly in the skin-tight outfit. Even bald headed she knew she still was attractive, and
in some sort, it added to a sensuality she had never expected.
She pushed the button and a woman came to fetch her. Again, there was no verbal
contact. She took a deep breath. What may come, she was ready for it. The woman led
her to the dining room, and closed the door discreetly behind her.
Kovinsky was sitting at the dinner table, apparently patiently waiting for her and she
resolved to make a show of herself, stately striding towards him, giving him ample time
to take her in, and it did not miss its effect. His mouth fell open at the sight of this
lecherous image and he greedily absorbed every move she made before she sat in front
of him.
Concealed light made the room look like a love nest. Kovinsky’s decorator had done
a marvelous job with the interior. His love for eighteen hundred century interior design
showed off in genuine leather looking wallpaper and elegant furniture straight from
some French Loire castle. Her feet sunk in high-poled wall-to-wall Berber carpet. But
something was missing. There were no flowers, no paintings on the wall. It looked cold
and lifeless.
“You look marvelous, Elisabeth. Why don’t you wear the wig? It would perfectly
match your beauty.”
While sitting down in one of the rococo chairs, she told him she did not want to be
remembered of things bygone.
“That’s a shame, really. There are five hundreds wigs waiting here, to be handed
over in due time. Well, we can discuss that later on; let’s enjoy Earth’s pleasures first.”
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The diner table was dressed for two, with lace tablecloth and a gilded candle burned
softly in a golden candelabrum, spreading a sensual scent of roses in the room. On the
table was set English China and silver cutlery and real napkins in silver etched holders.
Soft classic music resounded from walled speakers.
Kovinsky took the chilled bottle of vintage champagne from the ice bucket and
poured their glasses in.
“You certainly don’t save on your food dollar,” she said, overlooking the
magnificent picture that reminded her of better days on Earth.
He just kept staring at her with his mesmerizing eyes. “You look like a goddess,
Elisabeth,” he uttered. His voice had turned hoarse.
Suddenly, Elisabeth felt her blood throbbing and she got out of her stride. He was
hitting hard on her. It was a long time since a man had made passionate advances to her,
and she had to admit she felt flattered, even with a man like Kovinsky.
After two glasses of wine, she felt light in the head. She should not be drinking that
much, but that was weeping crocodile tears.
One of his goons, dressed in a white valet jacket pushed a trolley in and then left
again.
“Do you like lobster, Elisabeth?” Kovinsky asked while lifting the cloche cover to
reveal two whole perfectly cooked lobsters on the silver plate.
Lobster? Here on the Wheel? It took her breath away watching Kovinsky putting
half a cut open lobster on her plate. She was by now famished and her body reacted
violently to the delicious smell of the rosy meat.
They did not talk before they had devoured half of the delicatessen; they drank more
wine and nibbled on buttered crackers. Their faces were blushing and Kovinsky was
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staring at her with yet another hungry kind of gaze and she did not bother. With this
kind of reception, he certainly had no harm in mind.
She willingly watched Kovinsky taking the desserts off the trolley, rich and
sweetened sabayon, freshly made and it tasted like heaven.
The wine bottle was empty. Kovinsky pushed some button under the table and the
valet came in. “A bottle of VSOP brandy and coffee please,” Kovinsky ordered. The
valet took the trolley along.
Elisabeth felt a bit nauseous with all that food and the alcohol made her sluggish. It
was getting hot as well and she felt sweat oozing from her neck and down her cleavage
and Kovinsky, who was also beading in sweat, followed the transpiration trajectory
with fascination.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Elisabeth. I knew that before, but this is the first time I
see it in full.”
“And what do you see in full, John?” She began to like his little seduction play.
Kovinsky licked his lips. His eyes were radiating and his skin was feverish.
“You look gorgeous, Elisabeth. Mars does credit to you.”
To her relief, the arrival of the valet interrupted their waning conversation. Kovinsky
poured their brandy glasses to the brim. He sloshed the wine in his glass and then
drained it in one gulp.
Suddenly, he stood up, walked around the table and before she knew, he had turned
her chair, lifted her dress up, clasped his arms around her legs and buried his head in her
lap. Her first reaction was to take the water bottle and poor it over his head, but when
his hands explored her shins, she felt her resistance drop. Sensations of lust and repulse
fought while his shaking fingers reached her thighs.
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Then, a little devil in her whispered that she had to take advantage of it. Kovinsky
was in her hands and if she blew this moment for him, it would be the end of their so-
called relationship and she might blow everything else, her son’s life included.
“In bed, John, not here,” she muttered. He dragged her to the bedroom, pushed her
onto the bed.
She closed her eyes, not bothering about anything anymore while Kovinsky was
growling like a beast. Then he finally fell back, heavily breathing, sweat streaming and
his veins were throbbing a wild rhythm.
“I hope you’ve got what you wanted,” she muttered. She pulled her dress down and
wandered off into a dreamless sleep.
Next morning, she woke up with a huge hangover and an acidic stomach and the first
thing she noticed was the empty pillow next to her.
She stayed in bed until eleven a.m., heard muffled voices and sounds, but could not
work out if they hailed from Kovinsky’s quarters and she felt disorientated. She saw
marks where his teeth and fingernails had explored her. She felt dirty and abused, and at
the same time relieved as she had passed the test.
The en-suite door opened, and Kovinsky, neatly dressed, looked down on her with a
victorious grin on his face. He let his eyes wander over her body and she drew the sheet
to her chin.
“I hope you’ve slept well, Elisabeth. It was wonderful and I am very happy you have
decided to join us. If you feel like having breakfast with me, just beat the gong and I’ll
be joining you.”
She mumbled she did not feel like eating, but a strong cup of coffee would do
wonders.
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As soon as he had gone, she got up, staggered to the bathroom, took a cold shower
and rubbed herself until she felt properly fit. While she was washing up, they had made
up the bed and laid out a new white overall for her, fresh from laundry. She dressed and
went to the diner room. A copper gong was standing at the table side. She hit it.
A hulk came in, hardly looking at her, standing motionless at the door like a robot
waiting for her order. She chose orange juice and strong coffee, sat down and while
waiting, she switched the intercom TV channel on.
Breaking news told her the settlers seemed to offer quite some resistance and the
troops had still not figured out how to enter the site.
Her mind drifted to Howard, Andrea and Dan. She should not forget to ask Kovinsky
how long that isolation period lasted. He showed up twenty minutes, followed by a
valet with a trolley while she was drinking her juice. He seemed to be starving,
gobbling down toast, pouched eggs and crispy bacon. She drank her coffee and felt
pretty better.
“Okay, John, let’s talk about the community.”
He sized her up. His eyes had a cold look again as if nothing had happened the night
before. It made her feel angry; she was not one of his little whores about the Wheel who
would certainly serve him well.
“What do you want to know, Elisabeth?” His voice was smooth but very much
inconsistent with his freezing stare.
“What I want to know, John? Did you forget you have sent your troops to the dome?
And what the hell are they doing there? Having tea and biscuits outdoors? I want to
know what is going on, John, I think. I’m entitled to. You don’t have the right to invade
us on false pretensions.”
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John laid his fork down and looked at her inquisitively, his attitude expressing he got
it all together.
“False pretensions? The President does not see it that way, Elisabeth. I’ve received
direct orders to settle things straight.”
“Settle things straight? And what does that mean?” Her voice had raised an octave.
“The President has ordered me to make an end to this farce.”
Now she was fuming. “Farce? Have these last months been to no avail to you? Have
you ever wondered why our community works? You come storming in with your make-
believe turkey, getting people loaded, leave us with your goons, and then you accuse us
of sabotage, or whatever false pretext you can come up with. And now you’re sending
fresh troops over and they’re parking somewhere outside, and encase the site like we’re
a bunch of terrorists.”
“Calm down, Elisabeth, this won’t solve a thing.”
She was holding her temper by the skin of her teeth. She took a deep breath and sunk
in her chair again, her body shaking all over.
John poured her another cup of coffee.
“I was under the impression we were on the same wavelength, Elisabeth, after that
wonderful night we had together. There seems to be some misunderstanding between
you and me. Let me clarify my point of view, which by the way is the President’s too.”
He forgot about his breakfast and started to tell. She did not interrupt him, but when
he had stopped, he could see the haze in her eyes.
“Don’t take it too hard on you, Elisabeth. It’s no big deal, really, you have done a
wonderful job, and now we’re taking over when it’s still time.”
As far as she knew, he had betrayed her, and all those wonderful people who had laid
their fate in his hands. It all had been for nothing, all that work and energy and
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devotion. How would the community react when they would come to realize that
Kovinsky was messing around with them?
Her voice was soft when she finally reacted.
“John, call your troops back, that’s all I want.”
“Can’t do, Elisabeth. Bellum is sending USSA over to take care of business. In the
meanwhile, my people are protecting the turf. The colony will not experience any
hardship; the troops are guarding the perimeter in their ships and they do not intend to
enter. That’s something I’ll leave up to Bellum; it’s not my responsibility.”
“USSA? The Military? But why, for god’s sake? Haven’t we gone through enough
wars on Earth that you must cause them in space too? Is everybody going out of their
minds?”
“It’s out of my hands, Elisabeth. They’ll be here in less than a month.”
“You deliberately mislead us, accusing us of mutiny so you can to send your muscle
over. And then you’ve informed Bellum they can’t keep castle and that it’s high time to
bring in reinforcements and take over the community.”
“That’s not really how I see it, Elisabeth. We’re just protecting hearth and home.
Politics on Earth are having their own opinions.”
“What do you mean? What’s Earth’s got to do with it?”
Kovinsky was sitting on a fence; but then decided she was entitled to the answers.
He explained that the media had been snooping around and found out about his fine
fleur, preparing to emigrate to Mars, and they got up on their hinds legs. Then, Bellum
decided to come up with a plan to show he was still on top of things.
It was the typical reaction of leadership in peril. The first thing they did was finding
lightning rods to shift focus from thorny issues that could jeopardize whatever they
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were doing. In their case, they had found their scapegoats on Mars, Elisabeth bitterly
said to herself. It was the same history of ugly politics all over.
“John, if you want my cooperation and make a success of the settlement, you’ll have
to deal with me.”
“I’m listening, Elisabeth.” Kovinsky seemed sincerely concerned and he was very
much willing to find a solution, one that could be to her advantage if she played it well.
“I want to return home – I’m talking about the dome - and make certain everything
will be straightened out. If you want me to join forces, you must promise me you won’t
set free your wild dogs and give me the chance to explain to my people they’re not in
danger.”
“As much as I want, I can’t do that, Elisabeth. The shuttles are down with the
thunderstorms; you’ll have to wait a couple of weeks.”
Thunderstorms? “I don’t believe you, John. I bet you’re cheating again and even if
you speak the truth, I don’t want to see you again as long as this sham is going on.”
She jumped up and stepped to the door. The hulk tried to bar her way but at John’s
hand sign he let her pass through. She spun around.
“I’m just going to blow off steam, John. Don’t be afraid, I won’t blow up your
precious headquarters.”
“You’re completely free to move along, Elisabeth. I’m not holding you against your
will here.”
It sounded like ‘I’m not taking any prisoners’ instead. She headed for the fitness
room where she had spent so many hours before embarking for Mars and she stepped
on the walker.
Elisabeth was so teed off that she furiously kept treading on the walker. The room
was nearly empty; only a couple of workers were having their daily drill.
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The way Kovinsky had mistreated her was beyond imagination, she bitterly thought
while upping her walking speed. She was full of revenge; she wanted badly to repay
him.
She recalled the night before. Though she had passed out most of the time, she
looked upon his way of lovemaking as being obsessive as he had only been interested in
oral sex. She could not remember he even had copulated; he had probably not. She had
only felt his tongue wriggling obsessively around. He had not ever kissed her on the
lips.
She was so tight up in her fury that she did not see a man steal upon her.
“You’ll wreck the damn thing if you keep on tread milling like this,” he said with an
amused tone in his dark and deep voice.
She eased down and coming to a halt, she swung her head to see who it was. A man
in his forties was smiling at her, a tall and beefy black man with gray temples and
strong muscles that rolled in his workout outfit. She instantly smelled he was a secret
agent. She could pick them out easily nowadays.
“Are you running the place by any chance?” she snapped. She grabbed her towel and
stepped off the walker.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t want to disturb you, doctor. My name is Barry Lyndon. We have
a mutual friend.”
She wondered how he knew her name, but then again, it would have gone round the
station by now. She decided to play it cool, casually walked to the bench and sat astride,
rubbing her legs dry. She gestured him to keep her at bay.
“Okay, fire away. What’s about that mutual friend?”
“Margaret Rinsford.”
She stopped rubbing. His answer came as a shock to her; it was ever so unexpected.
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“She’s in your group, isn’t she? How’s she doing?”
“How do you know Marge?”
Lyndon noticed the suspicious look on her face. “Let’s have a cup of coffee in the
mess, we won’t be disturbed there. It’s free of bugs and scanners, you know what I
mean.”
“Okay, let me first have a shower and dress up again.”
She hurried up, realizing this man was about to reveal something of great importance
to her.
He had been waiting patiently for her, still in his workout outfit. She followed him
through a patch of corridors without talking.
The mess was army type, bare stripped, filled with ten kitchen-size tables and some
vendor machines.
He pushed the buttons for coffee and while she sat at one of the tables, she stared at
his square back, trying to figure out if this might be another Kovinsky trap.
He came back with the brew, sat down and pushed off without further ado.
“Marge is my ex.”
She again had trouble coping with his words, not having considered Margaret as the
wife of – well, whomever.
He added a little extra. “We had a daughter, but she’s dead.”
Sitting here, in front of Marge’s husband, was a bit too much for her.
“I can see your concern, doctor,” the agent went on. “But don’t feel strongly about it.
We’ve separated after our daughter’s death and that was a long time ago.”
He did not look though like having come to grips with his unfortunate past yet.
“I’m sorry to hear,” she said, not knowing what else to say.
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Lyndon sensed her embarrassment. “Don’t be sorry, doctor. I have finally come to
terms with reality. But I’d like to see her again, just for once, before…” He broke of his
sentence, realizing he was telling too much.
“Before hell breaks loose,” she completed and he did not contradict her. “You know
there’s an army coming down from Earth?”
“I know, and I’m strongly opposed to it.”
Her heart missed a beat, realizing she was not alone here; there were others who
were also concerned about Kovinsky’s bad moves. She felt hope rising.
“Can you do something about it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. Unless…”
“Unless?”
Lyndon’s face neared her and she caught his conspiratorial look. “Unless you and I
escape from her and go to Mars.”
She was not sure whether she should be thrilled or mistrust him and he noticed her
internal conflict.
“I don’t know how long I’ll live, doctor. I really want to see her and talk things over.
I have bad feelings about the future.”
“Do you know something that I should know?”
“I can’t tell you right now, but there are rumors going around…”
She cut in between. “I’m willing to work with you, Barry, but what will happen once
they find out?”
“We’ll be off before they know.”
“You can’t go back then.”
“I won’t. If Marge agrees, I’ll stay with her and in your settlement, and we’ll find a
way to clear up this mess.”
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“There are colleagues of yours at the dome’s gate.”
“Never mind, we won’t use the dome’s gate.”
He was talking in riddles, but again she did not want to hear the gen. She wanted so
much to get back that she was prepared to do whatever he wanted her to do. She was
still in doubt if she could trust him yet. He was one of them and it could well be a trap
as a far as she knew.
“I’ll join you, Barry, on one condition: that my friends can go with us.”
His face showed question marks. “Your friends? I don’t know what you’re talking
about, doctor.”
“Three of my friends are quarantined here. I want them to join us.”
“Quarantined? There’s no one quarantined. We don’t even have a quarantine facility,
why should we anyway?”
She stared at him bewildered. If he spoke the truth, it could only mean that Kovinsky
had not rescued them. Andrea, Howard and Dan would be dead by now.
Lyndon noticed the grief in her eyes.
“Why don’t you return to your room and have a rest, doctor? May I call you
Elisabeth? We’ll have to be fit. I’ll contact you when everything’s ready.”
She was now more than prepared to leave it up to him and felt comforted that she
had found an ally, though it could not take up the loss of her friends.
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22.
It took Lyndon two days before he was ready to swing into action. He paid her an
unexpected visit, while she was in the fitness room again, pedaling as mad in a
simulation game that took her across the Canadian Rockies. She was so frantically busy
cycling, trying to push back the sad memories of her deceased friends that she barely
saw him sneaking up on her.
“Save your strength, Elisabeth. You’ll need it.”
She startled and stopped wheeling. She could not help smiling. He was an attractive
man, and she felt secure with him, despite the fact he was one of them.
“I’m just letting steam off, Barry. Otherwise I’d go insane in this asylum.”
“That won’t last any longer, Elisabeth.”
They went to the bench and set down. He was to the point, like briefing her on battle
tactics. She listened watchfully and agreed upon everything he said. In five hours, they
would be on their way to Mars. Two of his colleagues had volunteered to join them.
They broke up. Lyndon had charged her to stay in her room. They would come and
fetch her when everybody was having their lunch break in the mess. To their luck
Kovinsky was involved in extensive video conferences with the White House and with
the upcoming arrival of the USSA, he had no time for her.
Over the last days, she had asked herself how Lyndon would be able to steal a pod.
Since her exploit, security measures had tightened up. Kovinsky could not allow
himself to waste more pods; he would have to come up with good arguments to the
board why three of them went up the spout.
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Lyndon and two other agents, who were clearly together in the conspiracy, came to
fetch her and lead her through one of the gangway labyrinths that linked the hubs. As
they were on foot, she undeniably felt gravitation getting lower, which meant they were
heading to the inner hubs of the Wheel. After a quarter of an hour – using empty
corridors – they stopped at docking station D8/2. She estimated that they were halfway
the Wheel now, as her feet moved lightly and her body weight had put on sensibly.
“What now?” she whispered nervously, but one of the agents put a finger to his lips.
They watched Lyndon breaking in on the docking station passengers’ gate, using an
electronic passkey. If Kovinsky would learn, they would all hang. She shivered.
Then the door slit open and they hastily stepped into the docking station. Otherwise
than an old freighter, it was empty. The ship seemed to be waiting for them. Two men
were standing near the ladder, staring blankly to their passengers. The ship had a vague
ring to Elisabeth, but then she recognized one of the crew members and her memory
flashed back and it all fell into place.
Captain Elderly was waiting for them, the same who had transported them to the
Wheel, the same whom she had been living with during four hard months. She felt
moved. Seeing him was like seeing an old acquaintance and she would never have
dreamed she would welcome him back as a dear friend. He grinned at her with his mad
facial expression, and nodded them in.
The crew helped them inside. She could dream her way across the ship, still
remembered all those spots where she had spent the first part of her new life. She found
her old nest back and instantly took possession of it.
They all knew the drill; no questions asked and as soon as they were settled, the
ship’s engine came to life. They heard the voices between the bridge computer and the
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pilot. Her fear of reviving the e-pod nightmare was unfounded. It went all so smooth
that Elisabeth could hardly believe she was on her way back home.
As soon as they were space bound, Lyndon drew closer to her. She could smell his
body odor; it was strong and masculine, and even in these awkward circumstances she
felt like there was something of an erotic magnetism between them.
“Elderly has agreed to take us to Mars, but before that, we’ll have to stay on Deimos
until the storms have died.”
Deimos, the slower moon, was about the same distance to the Wheel as to Phobos. It
took the ship half an hour to arrive.
It was night, and due to Deimos rather shy way of orbiting, the Wheel was not
visible for some hours and Elisabeth was happy with that. As long as she was away
from Kovinsky, everything was okay to her.
Deimos was of not much interest to the Wheel; there was nothing to do and it was
too far off to everything. It was the perfect hideout for smuggling freighters, though.
Elderly and his people had built up a kind of pirate’s nest where they could stock their
contraband.
Elisabeth was on the brink of breaking down and Lyndon was aware of it. They were
sitting in a metal prefabricated cage, the same type once used by the first workers on
Mars. In the course of time, it had landed up on Deimos. It contained everything for a
medium long stay and could withstand any meteorite impact.
Elisabeth had been so lucky not having to live in one of these shacks at the time. It
was filthy, used by men who did not bother to wash up more than once a week. It
smelled of stale sweat and lubricants and only one sparse light bulb threw long and
gloomy shadows.
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Elderly and the men were out again and Lyndon and Elisabeth were sitting in the
four by four-metal shag, strapped to a canteen table that could barely hold two persons.
They sat closely together, enjoying their company. “Don’t worry about Jim, Elisabeth.
Horner is a close friend of mine, I’m sure he’ll be on our side when we get there. Just
give me enough time to get everything organized. In the meanwhile, why don’t you get
some sleep, you will need all the strength you can get. Soon we’ll land on Mars and
from then on, things could get heated up a little.”
She sent Lyndon a grateful look. Lyndon caressed her palm with his thumb, and she
took no offense to that intimate gesture.
“For what it’s worth, Elisabeth, let me tell you a few things about John Kovinsky.”
She was not much in the mood for learning anything more on Kovinsky, but she
wanted to show Lyndon her willingness and she got hold of herself and paid attention.
Kovinsky had been treated with cancer therapy about eight years ago, after returning
from the second expedition. They changed his reproductive organs for bionic ones, but
the otherwise successful surgery had a devastating impact on his mind, and he turned
into heavy bipolarization. Soon he developed megalomania as a compensation for his
impotence. Elisabeth was now able to recognize all the psycho pathological symptoms
that lead to delusional fantasies of wealth, power, and omnipotence. It became all so
clear and she even felt some remorse with the poor soul that John had turned into.
Knowing more of his hidden background now, she felt stronger she should be able to
find a way to beat him.
“I really must get back to the dome,” she said. “It’s all clear now and I know what to
do.”
“Don’t worry, Elisabeth. He will not take a move until the army has arrived. He is
too vulnerable at this stage, and frankly, not all of his agents are willing to follow his
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mad incoherencies. I bet the ones who are keeping an eye on the dome are fed up by
now just having to follow conflicting orders.”
That was another aspect of megalomaniacs. Many world leaders had worked on their
own destruction with their whimsical behavior thereby leading their nations’ fall.
“Why does Elderly work with you?” she asked Lyndon. He was in two minds with
her question but then decided to cope.
“We’re in a kind of ‘stretch my back and I’ll scratch yours’ relationship, “Barry told
her. Elderly was their dispatch rider for certain matters in exchange of immunity across
the MEA territories.
“He can provide us with heavy artillery if necessary.”
“No guns, Barry, no war. I want this settled peacefully.”
She had put her foot down and Lyndon promised her he would do everything in his
power to prevent escalation.
“I admire that in you, Elisabeth. Frankly I wouldn’t have it the other way, if I can
prevent it, and I’ll certainly do what has to be done.”
Their eyes met and they could both read what was going on between them. But this
was not the right time, and then there was still Marge.
“What about Margaret,” she asked.
He looked surprised, and then regained his presence of mind. “It’s only for the sake
of old remembrances, Elisabeth. I’m not going to renew my vows if it’s that what
you’re thinking. I just want to put the matter of our daughter to rights.”
She did not ask further, knowing this was something between him and Marge.
Then she recalled something she had forgotten with all the commotion: the vanished
pods. She told Lyndon about them.
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“If they haven’t hauled them in, I’m afraid we’re too late, Elisabeth. Time has
expired and I fear the worst.”
“I have to know, Barry. Is there any chance you contact your friends in the dome? If
only for the sake of your comradeship.”
“We don’t want John to know where we are, Elisabeth. As soon as we send a
message, he will pick it up and he will be able to locate us. I’m afraid we’ll have to ask
them face to face.”
She looked dejected and he tried to cheer her up. “Captain Elderly has come up with
a plan. It will ensure us that John won’t be able to spot us.”
“Thanks, Barry, without your help things would look desperate. I’m really excited
I’m with you at my side.”
That came out as a declaration of love, but Lyndon had the decency to ignore it.
Elderly had made some repairs to his old ship and when they came around, he had a
big grin on his tanned face.
He told them they would take a roundabout way to mislead the besiegers, and then
land on Base Camp. He needed some scrap there anyway, and from then on, they could
precede their voyage to Two Dome. Lyndon shook hands on it, and Elderly roared the
engines up, while they slit into the suits again and took their seats.
It took them six long and scary hours before Mars came in sight. It was noon when
the ship smoothly touched down. It taxied towards the entrance of Base Camp.
Memories flashed back while Elisabeth watched the approach to the site. Her mind
opened to release faded memories. Though she had not spent much time in the camp,
old images called up recollections she had long forgotten, emotional souvenirs that she
could not share but to her only.
Elderly handed out portable halogen floodlights before they got out of the spacecraft.
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At the look of it, the camp was left out in a rush, leaving everything behind what was
too heavy or too scrappy. All sorts of machinery, tools and abandoned vehicles stood in
a disarrayed heap in the main hall. The strong beam of the flashlights disclosed how the
place had turned into a scrape yard, much to Eldery’s joy.
They followed him and his mates through the lot until they came to the
decontamination space. There too all sorts of material were stashed, iron and plastic
things piled up. Elderly let his light shine on a gateway locked by a metal door. It was
large enough to let a truck pass. A heap of junk blocked it.
“There’s your exit,” he said. His voice reverberated in the helmets and gave
Elisabeth the creeps. Only a five centimeters thick metal door separated her from the
way out and homeward bound.
“The door won’t open by itself; we’ll have to blast our way through.”
“What’d you mean,” Lyndon wavered. “Using explosions? Are you sure?”
“The only way out, buddy. If you want to go on, you’ll have to figure out how to do
that without having us blown to smithereens.”
They all stared at the gate and Elisabeth felt kicked in the teeth. If they could not
come up with a proper solution, all would be for nothing.
They checked the nuclear energy supply system, but it was dead, though the solar
energy generator was still intact and in working order.
“Why don’t we use the equipment around here,” Hank, one of Lyndon’s men,
proposed. “This gizmo here should still work, if we can hook it up to the sun panels.”
He was looking at a six-wheeler. “I’ve driven one of those during space training. It’s a
bulldozer basically, with accommodation options. It can take all of us.”
“Could you fire up that engine?” Lyndon asked. They all clustered round the
bulldozer. It looked like a sub frame on man-size wheels, with a small capsule on top of
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it. It had a large triangular plough attached in front. There were no windows or
portholes. Only the driver had a small chink that could pass for a windshield. Reddish
dust covered it wholly and it did not look much inviting.
“If we could bring that thing to life again, we could use it to smash the gate.”
Marvin, the other guy, had a proposition. “I’m going to drill holes in that door. That
way it will reduce the resistance when we ram it. That bulldozer is meant for shuffling
big rocks away, so it should do the job.”
“Damned right you are, Marv, thanks for the suggestion,” Lyndon said, tapping him
on the shoulder. “Maybe we might find a drill somewhere that still works.”
They looked about for a drill, even Elisabeth tried to do her bit by removing the
stockpiled up junk from the gate. It was an easy job with Martian gravity.
They got their hands on a solar driven laser drill. To their relief the outlets were still
working, Mark hooked it on, and the solar energy generator soon filled the hall with its
roaring noise.
“Ten years old, and still working,” Marvin shouted to Hank. “That’s what I call
American craftsmanship!”
“Let’s hope so, Marv. It’s from the same company that makes disposable long
johns,” Hank said in a sardonic tone.
Marvin was punching holes in the gate to weaken its resistance, while Hank, who
seemed to have the most technical expertise, was checking on the bulldozer’s engine.
“Could be good to go,” he mumbled. “I’ll hook a couple of spare batteries on I’ve
found here. These things were meant for long life use, and as they don’t need any
liquids, we should be able to bring them to life again.”
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He plugged the energy cable in the jack and at the first try, the engine block
bellowed to action with a burst of black steam, shook off the dust and gently wobbled
on its wheels.
The energy supply came boosting in and no more then five minutes later the
bulldozer was loaded and chugging.
“Let’s move in, people!” Lyndon yelled and they followed him inside and took seats,
Lyndon in front next to Hank who sat at the steering wheel and Elisabeth and Marvin in
the back.
“Guys, give us a second to cover our asses before you crank that piece of shit. Good
luck!” Elderly called out. He and his crew took cover behind a pile of metal boxes in
case the engine would blow up in their faces. Hank geared the block up and with a
heavy jerk, the bulldozer started to move forward.
The cabin was even narrower then it looked from the ground. The cargo hold could
hardly accommodate two more persons and Elisabeth and Marvin sat in contorted
postures. They could not lift their heads and they were forced to pull their knees up. It
was gloomy dark inside. The faint dashboard lights threw ghastly shadows and
Elisabeth had a sinking feeling.
Hank stopped the bulldozer to a halt. “Brace yourself, folks, I’m going to ram that
blasted door,” he said. He clutched the bulldozer into full speed.
They burst into the gate, smashed it down with a cloud of dust, and suddenly they
were out and in the open.
“Okay, folks, first hurdle taken, let’s move on. We’ve got still a long way to go.”
Lyndon said.
It was gloomy outside; the faint sunlight was covering the surface with long and
pitch-black shadows and the sky was gray. The storms had downed.
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“How long will it take?” Elisabeth asked Lyndon.
“That depends on the power supply. If we can proceed at a steady speed of say ten
kilometers an hour, we should reach Two Dome in about twenty hours and then have
Jim pick us up.”
“Twenty hours? Can we do that? I mean, is this thing able to do that?” Elisabeth
went on.
Nobody reacted. They all knew it was a one-way ticket. If the bulldozer failed on the
way, they would strand with few hours of air left.
Lyndon turned to her. “We’re trained to such occasions; we’ve taken survival
courses in the prospect of settling an FBI agency on Mars. We can come through if we
take the proper measures. Just relax and don’t waste any more air than you need.”
Hank took the airstrip as far as he could manage before making a U-turn to the
rougher ground. The searchlight could cover an area the size of a ball field, but what
they saw was not much encouraging; they would have to overcome a lot of small
craters, pits, groves and treacherous torses. Hank was deeply concentrated on steering
clear of the traps but he managed to keep a steady speed.
The engine’s racket droned through their bodies and soon, they were covered with
creeping in red sand.
“I hope the engine will keep up,” Hank shouted. He sounded worried.
“It should,” Lyndon shouted back. “These things are made for Mars; they can handle
everything.”
Lyndon was much concerned with their energy status. If the bulldozer would not let
them down, their only other problem was their oxygen supply. Lyndon did not want to
tell Elisabeth what would happen if it ran out. It was like sitting in a rowboat after a
shipwreck in the middle of the ocean with no food and too much passengers.
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23.
Elisabeth felt wretched with the bulldozer’s rocking and rolling, and the bumping
into hard rocks, the pebbles ricocheting against the metal and the contraption’s deep
animal growling. She did not feel much hunger; the thirst was much worse. Being
encapsulated for hours with the air-conditioning at top level – they were traveling in
minus 150 centigrade - made them lose body fluid at speed rate and she had drunk every
drop from her half liter water container hours ago.
She tasted iron at the back of her mouth and felt bile in her throat.
The heater made the suit humid and clammy, and the condensation damps dripped
across her body. Her legs were numb and she could not feel her lower parts anymore. If
this went on, she might experience inflammations.
Squeezed in, with Marv sitting immobile like he was napping, she had no way to
stretch her limbs. From time to time, she dozed off, then woke up with a start at the next
bouncing, and then dozed off again, a regular pattern that freed her from growing into
panic.
She had to rub off the sticky sand from her visor constantly. She felt like living in a
hot and dark cocoon with vague shadows moving around her.
No one felt the need to talk. Hank sat at his wheel, absorbed by the dangers that laid
ahead, the pits and the ridges, and he was working hard to keep a straight course.
Lyndon was constantly checking the positional coordinates and from time to time
passing fluctuations to Hank in a subdued tone.
Marvin, who was older then Hank, had more trouble keeping his eyes open and he
too slumbered away.
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Night fell and it was still darker then before. Elisabeth had drifted off in a feverish
sleep. She dreamed about Lyndon. He leaned to her, his handsome strong face a couple
of centimeters from hers, and then his lips sought hers and soon they were tongue
kissing.
When she woke up again, she was all sweaty and burning up. She stared at Lyndon’s
sturdy contours and for a moment, she felt miserable knowing it had just been a dream.
She tried to get a glimpse of the surface in the small windshield, but could not see a
thing. Hank’s windshield wipers were fiercely trying to get rid of the persistent sticky
stuff and he could hardly see what was ahead of him. The headlights reflected the
omnipresent dirt that whirled above surface.
“How far still?” she asked Lyndon. It took him a while before he answered, being so
intensively engaged with his navigation job that she had to repeat her question.
“Still five hours to go. We’re on solid ground now and can speed up a little.”
He had sounded like he had whispered in her ear. Still five hours?
“How much air do we have?” she asked in a troubled voice.
“We’ll see,” Lyndon said. It did not sound much reassuring the way he said it. She
began to fear that something was not going according to plan.
It was getting lighter again and suddenly dawn broke, a pink sky opened with sparse
clouds peacefully drifting over by the higher layer winds. It made her revive again; the
long and frightening darkness had gone.
“Readings, gentlemen,” Lyndon’s calm voice broke into her headset. She watched
them look at their wrist computer and then pass the data to him.
“83 minutes, Barry,” Marvin said in a calm and steady voice.
“72, Barry. It seems I’ve done more work then you, Marv,” Hank said.
“I’ve got 81, gentlemen, so I’m afraid we’ll have to put our heads together.”
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“What’s going on, Barry?” Elisabeth asked. She had a dry throat and a throbbing
headache.
“We’ve still 140 minutes to go, Elisabeth, so it looks like we haven’t enough juice to
get there off scot-free, all four of us.”
His voice was so toneless that she first did not grasp what he was trying to tell her.
“To keep it simple, we don’t have enough air to make it all of us.”
She felt like falling into deep water, wrestling to come to surface only to find out she
was headed to a wild rapid.
“I don’t want to hear that, Barry, tell me better news.”
“Our only hope now is to get in contact with Jim Horner. I’ve tried several times, but
this board radio doesn’t reach far and we still have too much static.”
Silence again. Now she came to face the terrible truth. They would all die before
they had reached their destination.
“Well gentlemen, it’s been a privilege to work with you,” Lyndon said. His voice did
not sound sarcastic.
“Likewise, Barry,” Marvin said and so did Hank.
“Just drive on, you idiots,” Elisabeth yelled. “Don’t give up now; we’ve come a long
way. You just can’t quit now.”
“Don’t be upset, Elisabeth. Of course, we will drive on, but I’m afraid we’ll have to
make some drastic decisions along the way. Maybe you might pray for our rescue while
we’re discussing the matter.”
“I don’t get it, why don’t you rev up that damn engine, we could be there just in
time,” Elisabeth went on, still refusing to admit what was happening before her nose.
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She could almost sense that Lyndon was giving up on the outlook of rescue in time.
She remembered him saying they had been trained to such occasions. Now this was
one, and there was no backup plan.
She did not want to die, not here, not in this eerie rocky desert and under these weird
skies, in a soiled space outfit, in a creepy bulldozing coffin, suffocating with the others,
trying to get out in a last attempt to save herself, to finally die convulsively in the dirt.
She wanted to live, to see her people, to be home again; she did not deserve this kind
of death.
The next reading was fifty minutes later.
22 to Hank, 34 to Marvin and 38 to Lyndon. They did not ask for her reading, as if
she was not there, and in her embroiled mind, she was certain they would sacrifice her
for their own lives.
Still ninety minutes to go.
“In half an hour we’ll decide,” Lyndon said. His voice sounded hollow, coming from
the grave he was digging for himself.
“Don’t give up, please Barry, fight to the last minute,” Elisabeth begged. She wished
she could hold him in her arms and comfort him.
“Easy now, Elisabeth, it won’t be that hard.”
“Are we all going to die here, Barry?” she asked in a thin tone; they could hear the
tremble in her voice.
“Don’t worry about you, Elisabeth. It’s alright.”
Why didn’t she have to worry? What was he hiding for her? She suddenly became
rebellious; her mind would not accept the cruel fact.
“Nothing’s right here, Barry, I hate all this. Get us out of here, call Horner to come
and rescue us, please do something.”
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Her pleading voice persuaded him to make a last attempt. He called up Two Dome
on every minute, and they all intensively listened to the static noise, trying to catch a
human sound, and sometimes, in their feverish minds, they were certain they heard
voices in the air, but then Lyndon broke off the connection.
“Gentlemen, it’s clear that the calls don’t come through, and it’s time we should
prepare for the final solution now.”
Elisabeth tried to see their faces through the dust-covered helmets, but she was
looking at dehumanized outlines and only the cumulative heavy and accelerating
breathing told her the men were building up a lot of tension now.
Hank had eased down to a stop, shut off the engine and a deadly silence entered the
vehicle. Lyndon put the reader down.
“Gentlemen, we all know Elisabeth’s too valuable to the settlement. So, we’ll have
to draw straws. Who’ll be first?”
Lyndon’s words made Elisabeth shudder with tremor. She now realized what they
had in mind with her all the time; they would sacrifice their lives for hers.
“You can’t do that, Lyndon, we all have a life to live, don’t favor me.”
“Keep still, Elisabeth, we’ve made up our mind.”
His imperative voice shut her up. She started to cry, long sobbing weeping while the
men were conferring.
Marvin took side of Hank’s decision. “Barry, I think you should take care of
Elisabeth. Try to get her in the dome alive.”
Lyndon did not argue; he seemed to consider it from all angles. Elisabeth watched
them hovering over who was to stay and who was to go.
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The almost clinical triage to decide who was to die and who not was too much for
her. She did not want to hear anymore and she shut down her receiver and introverted
away from the hideous reality.
The workers’ suits contained something that few knew about, a small container that
could be plugged in the oxygen pack. It carried the name of ‘extra H2O’, but it was a
lethal mixture of hydrogen cyanide and carbon monoxide. It guaranteed a merciful
death in five minutes when stranded in nowhere land.
Elisabeth did not want to hear the deals they made, the exchange of best wishes and
finally the unplugging of the oxygen containers and plugging in the poison. She did not
notice how Marvin and Hank’s lives were slipping swiftly away, while Lyndon hooked
up the agents’ oxygen to his and her outfit.
When Lyndon tapped her on the helmet, she came out of her trance and put her
receiver back on again.
“It’s over, Elisabeth. Marvin and Hank agreed we had to live on. They’ve given their
lives for us, remember that if something on the way would go out of hand and you’d be
the sole survivor.”
His voice sounded harsh; he was trying to hold back his emotions, having witnessed
how his friends and partners in fate had chosen deliberate death.
He convinced her to help him take the bodies out because it would gain on their
energy supply and they would move much faster then. She was in shock after she had
learned what had gone on right before her nose but she mechanically helped him to
remove Marvin’s and Hank’s corpses out of the vehicle. They had to let them go and
saw them hitting the ground in a pool of dust. Then Lyndon took Hank’s place in and
Elisabeth sat beside him now.
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She was ever so dead tired that she was unable to keep her eyes open. Lyndon did
not talk, just kept on driving, keeping his eyes on the terrain.
The second she woke up again, her first glimpse was a small pockmarked cupola
hewed out in a rock face. Lyndon was softly speaking and it took her a while before it
dawned on her they had arrived unharmed, and that he was calling the dome.
“Jim, are you there. It’s Barry, talk to me.”
For some seconds there was only atmospheric noise but then Horner’s voice came
bursting in and Elisabeth gave a scream.
“Is that you, Bar? Where the fuck are you?”
Lyndon took covert glances to Elisabeth.
“Watch your language, bro; I’ve doctor McIntosh at my side.”
Horner burst out. “Where she’s been, dammit, we’ve been waiting for her; nobody
knew where she’d gone.”
“Cut the small talk, Jim. We’re waiting outside the service pipe and we don’t have
that much juice left to hang out any longer, so get that door open, will you.”
Silence again; they heard murmurs in their headset, then Jim was back.
“I’m coming over. Stay put.”
“Jim, have the others made it?” Elisabeth cut in before he disconnected.
“You mean Abbas and Hapsburger? They’re okay, hopefully I mean. They managed
to pull through.”
Elisabeth let out a sigh of relief. So, Howard and Andrea had made it, but she was
aware what that ‘hopefully’ meant, thinking of John and Jack.
“Is Dan Pelsmaker there too?” she added out of breath.
“Pelsmaker? No, he didn’t make it.”
She felt shattered. Barry spotted it and tapped her consoling on the arm.
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“Okay, Jim, level with me. How do we get in?”
Horner told them in cut words.
“I’m really glad Jim's on our side, Barry,” Elisabeth said sincerely.
Lyndon flashed a look at Elisabeth, widely grinning. “Brotherhood, Elisabeth. We’re
same skin.”
They left the bulldozer at the doorstep, pushed the shaft door open and stood
bunched up in the narrow corridor, looking at a massive metal door blocking their way
some ten meters further on.
Horner’s voice came bursting in.
“Glad you made it in one piece, guys. Now, we’re going to pressurize the airlock
behind that door. On the go signal I want you to jump in as if your lives depend on it,
which could be close to the truth. Not to worry though, we’ll be there to hail you in.”
They waited bold still for the signal. They linked arms, the blurring high-pitched
tone went off, the door slit up, and they dove in.
Horner told them to take their helmets off and then they greedily sucked in the
chemical air that sensed like vanilla cream.
Then, they stripped to their underwear and stepped into the decontamination room
and let the frisky shower water run over their heated bodies and they lustfully drank the
water like thirsty animals.
After they had dressed up again with new suits from the wardrobe closet, a door
opened and Horner, Jesus, Linda and Pete stepped in, looking over the moon.
There was a lot of hugging and crying and hollering before they came to their senses
and marched off to the reception area like a triumphant parade.
The settlers were waiting for them. They yelled ‘hurray’ and shouted with joy. It's so
good to be back home, Elisabeth said to herself. She was smiling all the way in a sort of
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delirious manner. They were all there, all two hundred and fifty – no, minus one,
Elisabeth sadly thought. She hugged Howard and Andrea, and at the same time she
wept for Dan.
Barry raised his voice. “Folks, I suggest we leave these people to come to ease,
they’ve been through hard times. So, why let them have a good night’s rest first and
tomorrow we’ll thank the Lord for their salvation.’
They all agreed. Elisabeth took all the faces greedily in and felt like she had been
come out of death again. Barry was right though; the shock of having returning safely
had worn her out so much, that when she finally hit the sack, she instantly went out like
a light for twelve hours on end.
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24.
After Lyndon had spent fraternizing time with Horner and his two agents, he came
up to Elisabeth to tell her the latest news. As he had figured out, Horner did not know
about Kovinsky’s foul playing. Hearing that Kovinsky’s party had not come to the
escapees’ rescue, he was so enraged that he spontaneously joined ranks with the
community. The agents had grown fond of the settlers, and bit by bit, they had been
pulled over, voluntary underwent the depilatory treatment, and the settlement had
gained three devoted members.
When Elisabeth had come to her senses again, first thing she did was asking about
the toy pets, but Howard and Andrea had taken care of them already. They had made
the wise decision not to destroy them, as they had become a vital part of their
community, but to make them harmless instead.
Howard and Andrea had made it on their own. Both ISA agents had gone through
severe and rough survival training before they engaged. While waiting for help in the
pod, they became aware that it was not coming, and with the last gulp of air turning into
dioxide, and no rescue party had shown up, they had decided it was time to go. They
had freed themselves from the pod by pushing the chicken switch, which did two things
at interval times. First, it fired off its last energy blast, which made the pod jump up
again, to land down some fifty meters further on, while sending out a last distress call,
draining the rest of energy supply. Then three minutes later, the instance a normal
person could hold his breath, as was decided by the makers, the time of rescue had
passed. The hatch was blown out, which caused instant death. Both agents however,
were capable of holding their breath for ten minutes long in minus sixty while hopping
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over rocks and ditches. They ran for their lives to the pipe, and made it in time. Horner
had picked up their distress signal and had waited for them.
For the time being, they were in sickbay, monitored by the medical bots. They were
suffering from radioactive burns, but otherwise their constitution was strong enough to
pull it through.
Then, she wanted to know was how Dan had died.
Dan was not so fortunate. He had landed further on, and had patiently waited for
help. He had not dared to push the red button. Instead, when he realized it was over, he
had used the euthanasia kit he had taken from the morgue on himself. He died a calm
and peaceful dead. Howard and Andrea had tracked him down and searched him over.
They dug something up that Dan had brought to safety, a flash memory card buried
under his tongue. It was a recorded message from Jack.
Elisabeth and Lyndon sat together while they listened to his last will.
“Elisabeth, I’m talking to you for I am going to die as a result of terminal leukemia.
Yes, thanks to Mars I’m a dead man. My genes are totally fucked up since my stay ten
years ago. But I don’t want to leave life without telling you what you have to know.
I’ve grown fond of you and I watched your experiment growing into something
wonderful, and I am certain it will go on to be successful, but as you know, with every
success the number of enemies grow. Enemies like John Kovinsky who envies you and
who can’t bear that you paramount him. He wants to call the shots here, but with you as
his opponent, he would never win. A serious warning, Elisabeth: keep away from John
and do everything in your power to keep him out of your community. I’ve never had the
guts to tell you what happened with the last expedition. I would suggest you try to break
in the Wheel’s server on Phobos. You might fall into a big surprise. I am really sorry I
cannot stay alive and watching how you pursue your great work. I really would love to
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be part of it, but I am afraid I would just be a pain in the ass. You cannot have sick
people on board, you know that. I’m stopping now, as I want this message to be short
and kept away from nosily eyes. In case you can break into the server, here’s a hint for
you: jack doggone. Farewell, and remember: castle keep at all times. Never give up.
You might be the winner.”
To Elisabeth’s surprise, the community did not know about Kovinsky declaration of
war; they did not know his agents were watching them permanently and that the US
Space Army was heading their way. But Dan’s death and Howard and Andrea’s
miraculous escape triggered questions and soon the community had bad feelings about
what was going their way.
Also, Kovinsky’s accusation about the sabotaging turned out it was a big frame-up.
The satellite dish section was still intact.
Kovinsky had ordered Margaret to guard the satcom section with her life. She had
transformed it into a permanent command post that she besieged with her seven chosen
soldiers. Margaret proved to be a stubborn castle keeper. Having followed orders all her
life, the reflex of switching off her personality was still vividly present and she did not
want to bargain about it.
They had a direct line via the intercom with the satcom and Elisabeth tried to put
some sense in her head, but she refused to come out unless Kovinsky ordered her to do
so.
“She seems to have the time of her life,” Horner said with a grim face. He was
sitting on the bed, rubbed his bald head nervously.
“She’s desperate to please Kovinsky,” Elisabeth explained. “You can’t blame her for
wanting her old life back.”
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Horner shook his head. “You’re a hell of a woman, Elisabeth, standing up for
everyone, but Marge’s posing a real danger to us. We need the room. I want to send
messages to Earth, explaining what’s going on here. If she doesn’t open the hatch, we’ll
have to storm in.”
Lyndon came up with a plan. He would go to Margaret by himself so that she would
not be alarmed and be willing to reason with him. They all agreed, willing to clutch at
straws.
It took him some minutes to talk Margaret over the intercom, but he managed to
persuade her to open the door for him and let him in, and when he came back a quarter
of an hour later, they knew he didn’t have to clarify; they knew the moment he walked
up to them, smiling all over.
“We’ve settled it once and for all, and Margaret’s agreed to come out. She’s already
sent her crew out.”
“Thank heaven,” Horner mumbled. He held out his hand to shake upon it.
“What have you told her, Barry?” Elisabeth asked Lyndon, sounding elated herself.
“When is she going to hand it over?” Horner asked before Lyndon could answer her.
“In half an hour or so, she wants things straightened out first.”
“What things?” Horner sounded annoyed, but Lyndon brushed it aside.
“Just give her time to pull her self together. She’s been there for days and maybe she
wants to have a small farewell celebration on her own. She asked for a favor though,
that we wouldn’t wait outside for her.”
Horner shrugged. “Okay then, we’ve come a long way; we can wait a bit longer.”
He ordered everyone to keep off the premise and they returned to their own quarters.
Lyndon kept Elisabeth's company, closely as if he was her bodyguard, and truthfully,
she found it a comforting reflection.
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About half an hour later, a heavy explosion shook the site to its foundations. It came
from a fair distance, but it was so powerful that the shock waves caused so much
pandemonium that cups fell off the tables and people had to latch on not to tumble
down. The smoke alarms came to life and the howling and screaming began. Jesus
heaved his stentorian voice and calmed them down. Lyndon ran off, followed by
Elisabeth, and some of the people.
It was a long way to get there, but black smoke billowing their way, guiding them
towards the satcom. They arrived out of breath and came to a brisk stop at the serrated
hole in the wall that was once the entrance to the communication room. Clouds of acid
fumes penetrated their nostrils and caused them to heave.
Jim and his pals were already in, trying to find their way across the mess.
The lights had gone out and they had to wait for flashlights before they could see the
ravage done. The explosion had wrecked the room thoroughly and left the walls
scorched and crinkled. A bluish fog was floating at the ceiling. The explosion had been
so powerful that all equipment had melted down.
They looked out for Margaret and discovered her body shriveled up in a corner. The
blast had ripped off her jumpsuit and her right side was carbonized to the bone.
Lyndon stood frozen. He did not come nearer.
Elisabeth did not go in either; she turned back, shaken up and, in a daze, she walked
back to her room and locked herself up.
Her mind drifted away from Marge to Lyndon. She was more in a stew about him
than about Marge. Marge was gone, but chances were that Lyndon would blame the
fault on himself, whatever they might have talked about. She resolved she should stick
at his side at any time.
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The agents took up the sad task of moving Marge into a body bag, and they carried
her to the combusting furnace near the nuclear plant to cremate her the next morning.
They could not keep bodies for a long time because ammonia would set free from the
decomposition.
Early morning, while Horner was away, leading a working party to fix up the sitcom
section, Elisabeth paid Lyndon a visit.
The door was ajar and she peered in. Lyndon was not asleep; he sat on his bed with a
faraway look in his eyes, still dressed and he clearly had not slept a wink that night. She
felt remorse because she had not come over to him last night.
She sat quietly at his side and put her arm around his broad shoulders. She felt his
strong body move when he turned to her. His face showed lines of deep sorrow.
“I’m sorry, Barry, if I had known…”
He didn’t react at first, then pulled himself together.
“Don’t put the blame on yourself, Elisabeth. We don’t know what happened; it could
have been a technical malfunction for all I know. We may be lucky the explosion didn't
affect much damage to the place.”
His rather clinical observation surprised her. He evidently had listed all the points
during his staying up and he had sorted everything out, while she took it for granted that
he had spent the night in lonesome mourning. Then, his emotions got the upper hand.
“I just can’t bear it that she has died for nothing. She was my wife and ---”
“Say no more, Barry.”
She moved closer to him and gently took his face in her hands and kissed him softly
on the lips. He requited her signals and they kissed again, and before she knew, she was
lying on her back and Lyndon was making love to her.
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He used such vehement force that she was defenseless against his passion and she let
herself go without restrain, and for the first time in years she had an orgasm that nearly
knocked her out.
Afterwards they laid closed-eyed side by side; she rested her head on his hard
shoulder.
“Elisabeth…”
She put a finger to his lips. “Don’t talk, Barry, let’s not spoil this precious moment.
It’s been so good.”
She wished they could stay that way until the end of times, but at the sound of the
awakening community, she knew the spell was broken.
“Elisabeth, I’ve been thinking…”
“I’m sorry, Barry, tell me what’s bothering you.”
“When the army troops come in, it could be messy. Is it worth to sacrifice these good
people? Wouldn’t it be better to negotiate?”
She turned to him, resting on one elbow. “Negotiate? Not with John Kovinsky,
Barry, he’s done already too much damage. Marge, Dan, Marv and Hank, they’re dead
now and who knows who else will follow.”
“I’m not really sure if it was an accident or if Marge has done it deliberately.”
His words frightened her. Why should Marge do something like this?
“Maybe she had decided this community wasn’t worth all the trouble. Maybe it was
a symbolic act,” Lyndon circumspectly went on.
“Killing yourself has nothing to do with symbols, Barry. But if it’s true what you
say, we can only conclude that she wasn’t fit for Mars.”
Her words sounded cold, but then again, Margaret was Kovinsky’s choice and not
hers.
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“Elisabeth, I have the strong impression that Jim knows more than we do about
what’s going on outside. We should keep a close eye on him.”
“Why do you say so, Barry? Jim has rescued us. He has no way of contacting the
Wheel with the explosion and all.”
“He has, Elisabeth, trust me. I’m as good an agent as he is. I don’t know where he
hides it, but somewhere some transmitter must be around. If you think about it, it seems
kind of strange that he so quickly deserted.”
“I don’t know, Barry. I don’t see it as deserting and I really want to believe he’s on
our side, but if you say so…”
“I’m just telling that it might be possible that this whole craze is just meant to bring
us to our knees, and Jim could be part of it.”
If she remembered well, Howard had suggested that before, and if it was true, then
Horner was double-crossing them.
She was not sure of anything. She really hoped Lyndon was right about everything.
She thought of Kovinsky’s troops watching them outside.
“But then, what with the USSA? Is that a trick too?”
“I’m not sure, but if the military is going to take over, Kovinsky will be in a lot of
trouble, as he clearly stepped out of line. It would be the right moment to start
negotiations and let him know we’re not impressed by his insane hoaxes.”
“That’s out of the question, Barry, you know that. He’ll consider it surrender. We
can’t give up on our mission, not anymore.”
Lyndon stopped arguing. His hand glided to her right breast and cupped it in a full
grip. He let his tongue wander along her neck and nibbled on her earlobe and she forgot
his defeatist remarks.
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That evening, almost all settlers gathered in the auditorium to attend a memorial
service, held by Jesus. A camera was put in the furnace room and showed Marge in her
body bag on the conveyor belt. Jesus had put up soft gospel organ music and had
dimmed the lights to create a serene mood.
The bag was covered with cut flowers from Sharon’s personal green house.
Jesus made a heartwarming speech that did not do her wrong. Not every settler had
joined the ceremony, partly because Marge had betrayed on them, and partly because
they did not want to remember how vulnerable they too were.
He did not talk about dead, though; he talked about the community’s future. He
made them revive the thrills and how they had been able to survive so far. They would
have to be strong and listen to what God was telling them. And they would not leave
Mars; Mars had become theirs.
“There’s your answer, Barry,” Elisabeth whispered when Jesus had finished.
It was so fitting that the words brought comfort to their souls, and it made them grow
stronger then ever. Some settlers softly cried.
Then, Jesus introduced a psalm they all knew.
I shall not want;
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters;
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for His name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil;
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for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life;
and I shall dwell in the house of the
Lord forever.
At a wink, someone pushed the remote control knob and the bag started slowly to
move towards the oven. Then the screen died out. The rite was over. Nobody spoke
much; they all were impressed by their first death within the domes' walls, making them
realize how vulnerable they had become.
Elisabeth had not wept. She was aware she had to show strength to her people, and
knowing that Margaret had found peace now, felt like a chastening.
“Walking through the valley of the shadow of death, that’s what I feel we’re going
through,” she said to Lyndon while they returned to her room.
“I know what you mean, Elisabeth. It reminds me of the good old days. When I was
a kid, my dad took me to some congregation church in southern Alabama. It did not
really help him in any way. He died with lung cancer.”
“Oh, that’s terrible to hear that, Barry.”
“Well, his life insurance helped me through college, so you might say his death had a
purpose.”
Lyndon’s laconic remark did not shock her. It just showed how close life and death
were.
“Anyway, I’ve decided it’s time to start organizing some things, Elisabeth,” Lyndon
said, his voice sounding more unwavering now.
“Like what?”
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“Like figuring out what to do when the troops come marching in.”
“Relax, Barry, the community doesn’t want to feel in danger.”
“Still, I’m going to take some measures. I have asked Jim to come over to discuss
matters. Forget what I have been telling about him for the time being. We still need
him.”
She vanished in the adjoining bathroom to fix her looks and while she was drying her
hands under the heater, wrapped in a bath towel, Lyndon came in and she noticed a
strange glance in his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Barry?” She asked in a concerned voice. He put his arms around
her waist.
“Let’s make love, Elisabeth. I need it. We both need it.”
Though they had made love that morning, she suddenly got butterflies all over again.
“Jim Horner…” she tried to tell more, but he ripped her towel off, lifted her from the
floor as if she was a doll and grabbed her in a firm grip, which worked her up instantly.
“Oh Barry…”
He drove her against the wall and lifted her higher to bury his face between her
breasts. She caressed him tenderly while he searched for her nipples.
Martian gravity did no good to the men, but Lyndon managed surprisingly well to
keep a balanced rhythm and when she came, she let out a scream of lust. She felt the
desire to go on and on, but he put her gently to the floor and regained his severe stance.
“Thanks, Elisabeth, this makes everything right again.” He kissed her and then went
out again, leaving her with the butterflies.
When she came back in the room, Horner had arrived. Lyndon had made coffee and
while pouring their mugs, he handed orders out to Horner and Horner seemed to submit
to Lyndon’s self-proclaimed leadership.
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While he was talking, Elisabeth kept staring at Lyndon with mixed feelings. They
had been making love like wild beasts only some minutes ago, but it did not show on
him. What made it that a man could be on his feet again so fast after he had his moment
of pleasure? She knew she was still blushing and tingling all over, while Lyndon was a
cool cat as ever.
Next point on his agenda was Jack’s odd message. They had printed it out and
Elisabeth read it aloud. She more then ever was convinced Kovinsky had deliberately
led Jack to his dead. She had to admit Andrea and Howard were right and now she
agreed that taking a life was not always morally objectionable. Sometimes sacrifices
were acceptable if they could spare the lives of hundreds.
Horner was trying to make sense out of that jack doggone, the mysterious code word
Jack had lumbered them up with. He was convinced that Jack had left an encrypted
message in his text and somewhere they should find more.
“I bet it’s an access code,” Horner mused.
Lyndon shrugged his shoulders as to express this conversation was not of his
concern.
“Oh my God!” Elisabeth shouted out. “I know what it means, Barry.” Her voice
trembled. “He once told me his version of Darwin’s evolution theory. He said
something about people being dogs, pets. Sticking like glue to their masters.”
Both men stared at her, trying to find out what she meant.
“Jack’s no longer dog. Dog gone,” Horner muttered at last.
“He wanted to tell me he was no longer obeying orders,” she completed. “He didn’t
want to go on with that sick game and he knew how to hit Kovinsky.”
Lyndon looked doubtful, but Horner seemed to catch up promptly.
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“I’m thinking something else too, Elisabeth. It could mean a password to a hidden
message; a message how to deal with Kovinsky and everything else.”
“Clues hidden in that server?”
“That’s right.”
“In that case we should find out,” Elisabeth turned to Lyndon resolutely. “We must
break in, Barry. The answer is there, on Phobos.”
Lyndon looked like he was pissed off. “So what, folks? Are we going back, is it that
what you want? I don’t want to risk my neck a second time, Elisabeth. Stay away from
it; it’s not worth our lives and that of your friends.”
Elisabeth could not grasp why he so suddenly refused to cope with them.
“Yes, but maybe my son might help us out, Barry. He and Elderly and ---“
Horner cut in between. “Barry, we’re up against the wall, don’t you see? What is the
matter? Don’t you want to fight anymore?”
Horner looked pugnacious. Elisabeth was aware of a clash growing between these
two power figures and it was about to explode in her face.
“Let’s leave it for the time being,” she hastily chimed in. “We’ll try to find out what
to do without stirring up the fire; as you said, Barry, we’ve got enough trouble as it is.”
They calmed down, but she knew something had put a wall between the two men,
and she was aware she would choose Lyndon if she had too, even if she proved wrong.
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25.
It was time for Lyndon’s initiation as a new member of the community. He had to
undergo the haircutting initiation in the presence of every settler, a procedure Linda had
worked out.
The performance took place in the auditorium. Lyndon was dressed in a white long
robe and sitting stoically in a high-backed chair with a former hairdresser at his side.
He let the man cut off his curly hairdo while a choir of five girls was singing a song
that Linda had composed to the occasion. Honeysuckle incense was burning and coiling
up in the dim light. The auditorium was transformed into a temple of serene happiness.
His hair would be symbolically burned in the furnace. Lyndon stood up and made a
flippant bow, and got a round of applause and more chanting instead.
Then hoasca tea was handed out. Sharon had succeeded in growing the seeds in
small quantity in her little greenhouse. The tea was not made adequately strong to
produce hallucinations, but it worked well as a common agent. According to Linda, it
was perfect for discontinuing the urge for alcohol, nicotine, and synthetic drugs.
There were still other striking effects with hoasca. People learned to stay calmer,
more confident, more willing to accept the communal living. They felt the need to
practice good deeds, watching their words, and having consideration for their
environment.
To Elisabeth and Lyndon the drug had an overwhelming outcome. The almost
unbearable weight of responsibility on their shoulders, their trip’s dramatic aftermath,
had made them more vulnerable and the drug offered them a sense of accordance with
life again.
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Elisabeth, seemingly more susceptible to the drug’s upshot, melted at the sight of the
hairless Lyndon in his white angelic outfit. She practically dragged him back to her
room where they ardently made love.
Bit by bit, Elisabeth lost her impact on the community, obsessively wanting to be
near Lyndon and every time they were together, they imperceptibly slipped into his or
her place. Lyndon was an insatiable lover and he carried Elisabeth to seventh heaven; it
had become an addiction and she was constantly yearning for him.
She even did not mind him calling her ‘Liz’, which she otherwise hated. He had this
kind of impact on her.
Lyndon did not bother how she was alarmingly slipping away. He just locked
everything and every one out of her life, shielding her away from reality and by doing
this, he put her in a depending situation towards him.
As long as Elisabeth was not fit to do her job, he took over and gradually gained
complete control over the community, though he did not tamper with their daily life.
At some point, after another arousing night of love, he decided he should prepare her
for what had to come.
“Hear me out, Liz; I have to plead guilty for something.”
She sluggishly opened her eyes, staring at him dreamily, still dazed by his
tremendous and tireless sexual explosions.
“I want you to pin back your ears, Liz. I need you to know there are matters that we
can’t have power over, not even me.”
“Do I want to know more bad news, Barry?” She whispered, not really wanting to
get back on her feet again.
“I feel I need to tell you, Liz,” Lyndon went on. He sat up, his torso still covered
with a fine layer of sweat.
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“Listen to me, Liz. I can deal with the army, you can’t. You must give over the
overall leadership. I know if you approve, the community will approve too.”
“I can’t introduce you as our leader, Barry,” she softly said, caressing his head.
“Why not?”
“Because they won’t accept you, and besides, we don’t want leadership here in terms
of how you see it, you know that.”
He rolled away from her, staring at the ceiling, frowning.
“You’re in no position anymore to decide what’s best for the community, you know
that too, Liz,” he grumbled.
She sensed his rising temper and tried to smooth it down, by making him another
proposition. She told him they could perfectly have shared leadership with the two of
them, but at the same time, she knew he would not agree.
“You don’t see my point, Liz. Weed another type of leadership now and as long as it
takes. You can’t manage that; it’s not your kind of warfare. I know how to resist them.”
“We’ve agreed that Mendez will be our spiritual guide,” she went on, now leaning
on one elbow and staring down to him.
Lyndon snorted. “Mendez builds up castles in the air; you can’t have him running
things here. He can’t cope with people like Kovinsky, he’s just a fancy talking preacher
man; I know their kind, they’re just a bunch of worthless freeloaders.”
That was a real insult to a man like Mendez, who had proven his worth at countless
times and now, she found herself between the devil and the deep blue sea. She did not
want to lose Mendez over a trivial thing like leadership, but on the other hand, she had
to admit that, compared to Mendez, Lyndon ran the works with more competence.
“Think it over, Liz. We’ve still got time.” He was good-humored again and she
sighed with relief. This wind was blown away for the time being.
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They had a shower, dressed up and then Lyndon went out for his daily inspection.
While she was preparing a banana milkshake, Horner came by and when she asked him
if he would like to join her, he agreed.
They sat at the table drinking the shake. Elisabeth noticed Horner was restless and
she asked him if something was wrong. She remembered Lyndon’s observation about
the agent, and she decided to leave the options open as long as they had no proof of
Horner’s double play.
“Are you doing alright, Elisabeth? I mean, there are rumors…”
“What kind of rumors, Jim? Tell me about it.”
“Well, you don’t show up lately, and people start to wonder if … uh… if Bar’s taken
over. I mean, he’s sticking his noise in like he’s running the show here.’
“Don’t believe it, Jim. They are only rumors as you say, and people like to gossip.
I’m just still tired and Barry’s just helping me out for the time being.”
“That’s good to hear, and I hope you’ll be old little you again shortly. Now, I hate to
be the barer of bad news, but we’ve rounded up our investigation on the explosion, and
well – to be frank, I was a bit setback with what we found out.”
“Found out what?”
Horner explained in simple terms that a device known to agents only had caused the
explosion in the satcom. It was a smart bomb, designed specially for purpose in space.
It made no collateral damage and therefore suited a place like a Martian settlement
perfectly. The agents had recognized the highly flammable stuff that would act like a
huge torch with all that consuming purified air.
They had agreed not to take their findings to Elisabeth before she was ready for it.
Elisabeth did not know what to make of that. This was an unexpected turn.
“You mean, someone has brought it in to deliberately kill Margaret?
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“That’s what we’ve made of it too. And there are only four persons who qualify for
it.”
“You and Barry and the other agents,” she rounded out his sentence.
He nodded. She had already made up her mind. It was out of the question that she
would accuse Lyndon, so it was up to Horner and his two guys.
“We can’t rush into hasty conclusions, Elisabeth. We don’t want to sound the alarm,
so we have decided not to go paranoid about it and leave it an open question. Maybe in
time we’ll find the answers.”
She watched him with rising concern. Horner was part of Kovinsky’ plot, she had to
accept that, and his men would be in it as well. She had to play it cautiously.
“You’re right, Jim. We’ve got enough worries on our minds as it is, and we just can’t
go on being suspicious of everything as long as we don’t know the facts.”
She tried to sound airily, and fortunately, Horner was still focusing on his own
thoughts, absentminded stirring his milkshake.
Then something unforeseen happened. Horner lifted his head and he stared at
Elisabeth with glazed eyes.
“I feel responsible for the death of Marge and Dan,” he muttered.
“It’s nothing to do with you, Jim,” she tried to comfort him, but he shook his head,
still stirring his milkshake.
“You don’t know everything, Elisabeth. You know I was appointed security officer
here. But you ought to know Kovinsky had figured that out a long time before, at the
selection program, to be precise.”
She stared at him tacitly.
“I mean – Kovinsky ordered me to work as his personal advisor. He wanted me to
select two settlers who would meet his own demands, no questions asked.”
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Now that last puzzle fell in place. Elisabeth was looking at her double, the
mysterious other advisor.
“You mean you were working behind my back to go over my selection? Is that what
you’re saying?”
“That’s what I’m saying, and in retrospection, I feel I have to apologize for that. I
was the one who plucked Marge and Dan, and I’m to blame for their death.”
Her feelings of mistrust toward Horner softened up a bit. She trotted out platitudes to
convince him not to take it so hard, but when he left, she called Lyndon over the
intercom in private mode and told him briefly, what Horner had said. Lyndon listened
without interrupting and decided he would keep an eye on him, and that she should not
worry. She was grateful when she switched off the intercom. It was good to have
Lyndon on her side.
She felt down with the accumulation of bad news and she longed for him, and when
he came back from his round, she had prepared a meal for him. Against her own
principles, she had cooked up hamburgers, which had arrived deep-frozen with the
agents. Her stomach turned over with the greasy smell while the meat was cooking.
Lyndon was very pleased with it and he wolfed them down while she was patiently
waiting for his conclusions about Horner and his gang.
Then he leaned back and drank a beer, another thing she had turned a blind eye to.
“I knew there was something going on with Jim and his gang,” he said. “Since we’ve
come back, he’s changed, and I’m beginning to believe he’s involved in it, now that the
pieces come together.”
“Why do you assume he’s changed?”
“He doesn’t give me fresh data anymore, you know, agent’s stuff, and that’s
troubling me. They are avoiding me. ”
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“What kind of stuff is that?”
Lyndon flashed a smile at her. “Don’t worry about that, baby. It’s just about work.”
Calling her baby had a sensual ring to her; it sounded like an invitation to dance.
Then, Lyndon got up and said he would poke around to catch up. He left her in a
hurry, not even bothering to thank her for the work she had done. While she was
shuffling the rests in the grinder, she felt even more confused. Here she was, living the
life of a homemaker, not bothering about what was going on outside her dominion
while it was crumbling down. Something was going deeply wrong with her.
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26.
Lyndon did not show up that night and, for the first time in seven nights, she slept
alone. Without him at her side, she came to her senses and took the decision it was time
to take up again where she had left.
She invited her ex-group leaders for a meeting in the recreation hall. They all came –
except Pete and Mike, who were not interested in leadership anymore and had become
part of the anonymous crowd. The empty space Dan and Margaret had left was tacitly
consented.
They all managed well. Jesus and Linda, both keeping everyone in high spirits,
Sharon with her garden and Martha with her time barter, Howard and Andrea, who
where always there if they needed a helping hand. It was like a homecoming party, and
every one was delighted that Elisabeth had returned as their prodigal daughter.
Jesus was the first to put up what was on their minds.
“Elisabeth, we’ve heard rumor that the special agents are living on beef and beer. Is
that correct?”
She did not give a straight answer, and reluctantly she said they lived their own lives,
and what they were doing with it, was of no concern to the community.
“Yes, but they don’t belong here. I mean, it’s their fault Marge has died.”
Elisabeth had a bit of a shock. Where they suspecting something?
“Why do you say a thing like that, Jesus?”
“By word of mouth, we’ve heard that Marge was killed after Lyndon left her.”
Her heart was stammering but she managed to keep herself in hand.
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“Don’t judge rashly, Jesus. Marge and Barry were man and wife once, but by the
look of it, Marge took it too hard on herself. I can’t say no more, Jesus, and I’d rather
like to talk about our future now instead of gone-byes.”
“We also heard that the Wheel has in mind to invade upon us,” Sharon said in turn.
“That’s chitchat. Look, people, we can’t waste our time on gossip. Just tell me
what’s on your mind and how the community is doing.”
They dropped the rumors and told her the latest news, and it was all so refreshing
that she warm-heartedly listened and forgot time.
When she returned to her room, Lyndon was waiting for her, his face spelling
trouble; his clenched fists resting on the tabletop and he leaned towards her in an
intimidating way.
“I hear you’ve arranged a meeting with your friends without telling me.”
His cutting words threw her off balance. She felt he was trying to corner her and, in
reaction, her words came out bitchier then she wanted.
“Since when do I have to get your permission, Barry? I’m still one of the leaders
around here.”
“I don’t give a damn about your so-called leadership. This fuckin’ place is in acute
danger and you’re having klatches instead of working on our defense.”
“Klatches? Barry, I don’t mind you sticking your nose in the community’s affairs,
but try to be reasonable. You do your job and I do mine. We don’t want to make a
mountain out of a molehill.”
His eyes suddenly filled with frenzy anger and before she knew, he jumped over to
her and gave her a big blow on the jaw. She stumbled and had to hold herself to the
table or she would have fallen.
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“What… Barry, why do you…” she was hardly able to talk, baffled by his
uncontrolled reaction. She did not recall ever having been beaten before. Her right
cheek was glowing with pain.
“Don’t do that anymore, Liz. Don’t tell me what I’ve got to do; I’ll run the show
from now on.”
“Barry…” Her eyes brimmed with tears, but he did not notice her desperation,
jumped up and cleared out and left her completely shattered.
He had not beaten her that hard; it was the humiliation and the awareness their love
was gone. She went to the bathroom and stared to the red glow on her face in the mirror.
It showed like war paint.
After she had calmed down, she contemplated the situation levelheaded. Lyndon was
stressed out and maybe it was her fault if he could not handle the situation well. She
needed time to try figuring out how she could render her leadership to Lyndon’s
approval. She was not sure of her Darwin experiment anymore. Sometimes, man had to
take matters in hand.
In the afternoon, Horner and his men decided to go outside to evaluate if there was
away to fix the dishes.
Lyndon stayed in Horner’s quarters to monitor them along.
It took a while before it occurred to Elisabeth a siren had gone off. She was not sure
what it meant; she had not heard that howling sound before. She stood in the hallway,
seeing some people were passing her by hurrying to the source of the sound.
She went after them. A flashing red fluorescent strip on the wall showed them the
way and it led them straight to Horner’s quarters. Lyndon was so absorbed by what he
saw that he did not see her coming. She begged the crowd outside to back off, went
inside and shut the door. Lyndon stared at the monitor that was split in three windows,
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each designated to every agent outside, showing what they were looking at with their
camera eyes.
She sat quietly at his side, watching the images on the screen. They were rather
blurred but she could clearly see they showed trouble. She wanted Lyndon to ask what
was going on, but his eyes seemed to glow in a frenzy way and she swallowed her
words.
There was no sound coming from the agents; the helmet camera’s were bouncing
wildly up and down and then all three pointed to the sky and there was only a frozen
image of blackness with some gray stars in it, like they all had taken the same picture
while laying flat on the ground.
She could not hold back anymore. ‘What’s happening, Barry, please tell me.”
He just grumbled, still fumbling with the buttons, but the images did not change
anymore. Then he turned to her, his face all sweaty.
“We’ve lost them and the hell I know what went wrong. We just lost them.”
“What…” Elisabeth mumbled, staring with bulging eyes to his face. “What do you
mean?”
Lyndon eyeballed her fiercely as if she was to blame.
“I mean that they’re dead. Can’t you see for yourself, woman?”
She watched the monitor again with desperate fear, not wanting to accept what
Lyndon had just told her.
“But I don’t understand.”
He had come to his senses again. “Something’s fucked up out there, but we’ll never
know.”
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He looked her sharp in the eyes. “Don’t let the people know, Liz. Tell them
whatever, but do not tell my friends have just died. Just tell them the siren went off by
accident or whatever.”
“Okay, Barry, I’ll do that,” she said in an obedient voice. He got up, walked out and
left her, beaten and miserably lonesome.
She did what he had asked. She passed the message to the community and felt she
had betrayed on them.
Late that afternoon Lyndon came back to her room, calm as ever.
“Thanks, Liz. I’m sorry I’ve slapped you. I’m so much fucked up lately, and now
with my friends out there... I don’t know anymore.”
He sank down on the edge of her bed and buried his face in his hands. She felt
compassion with him, as she was aware what he had to go through and she felt remorse
as well because she did not support him all the way.
“That’s okay, Barry,” she whispered and took his hand to caress.
Then, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her back towards the bed.
“I need you, Elisabeth, let’s make love,” he hoarsely said and his sexual delirium
was so strong she could smell it and she was only able to nod her approval.
That night, when she was alone again, Howard and Andrea came to pay her a visit.
They both wore anti-radiation suits, which made them look like white angels, but
beneath their face mask, their eyes had a sinister glow. Howard pushed off before they
had taken their seat.
“Elisabeth, we’ve come to the conclusion that Lyndon is a double-dealer and we
want you to know.”
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“Double-dealer? Barry is a special agent, Howard, it’s his way of acting like that,
don’t call him that, he’s doing the best he can,” Elisabeth said, putting up a mental
barrier unwillingly.
“He’s more than that we took for granted. We think he is plotting with Kovinsky to
prepare the invasion. He’s the Trojan horse here.”
“Invasion? What do you mean? Barry’s going to open the gate for them?”
“Don’t play dumb with us, Elisabeth,” Andrea coolly said, noticing that Elisabeth
was stubbornly protecting Lyndon. ‘We’re ready for that day to come and if you can’t
accept the fact, I suggest you start listing all the points, and we’ll gladly be of assistance
if you can’t see for yourself what Lyndon’s doing to you and the settlement.”
Elisabeth hit the roof. What were these two killers thinking?
“Dammit, Andrea, Howard, I’m getting fed up with all the insinuations and all that
tittle-tattle. Don’t you realize what you’re doing? You’re turning everyone into
paranoids and soon we won’t trust anyone anymore. I can’t live with that, and if this
doesn’t stop, I’m going to offer surrender to Kovinsky, while we’re still alive.”
She had a bit of a fright, having said that. It was like something that had been pulsing
at the back of her mind and it suddenly came out unexpectedly. She noticed both agents
exchanging nervous glances. She also noticed they looked ill-fated. Their exposed
bodies in Martian air had done them no good; they ought to be in the hands of skilful
neurologists.
“We’re sorry if you feel that way, Elisabeth. We just want to emphasize that Lyndon
may not be the one you think he is, and we have sufficient reasons to provide evidence.”
Andrea had said it in a mild tone as she was addressing an old and bewildered woman.
“Give me evidence then,” Elisabeth bitterly said.
“Three of the lives ending containers are missing.”
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“So?”
“Someone took them and used them,” Howard went on.
Just now, Elisabeth sensed what he was insinuating.
“And you’re accusing Barry?” Her voice sounded so strained that both hesitated to
go on, but then Andrea dealt with the problem directly.
“He’s the only one who had access to the suits, beside Horner and his agents.”
Elisabeth jumped up. “You can’t prove he’s done it; this is like telling me he has
murdered those poor people. For all I know, it could be you.”
It was out before she knew. She could kick herself.
“So you know,” Andrea stated in a low voice. “We’ve found out that the agents were
missing and by simple deduction, we concluded that they were outside and that Lyndon
had taken care of them.”
Elisabeth tried to refute her words. “They went outside to fix the dishes and some
terrible accident happened and Barry found it better to hold the news back until he’s
discovered what had gone wrong.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Elisabeth. Lyndon’s the only one who had a good reason.”
“And what might that be?”
“Horner and his guys knew what he was up to. We are sure they were driving at
going for help once they had made contact with the Wheel, sneaking past Kovinsky one
way or the other. Lyndon was aware of that, and he decided to take the proper
measures.”
She stared at them in turns, not willing to see the truth.
“If you don’t want to accept it, Elisabeth, just remember we have a killer around
here, and he will strike when and where you don’t except.”
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“Out,” she hissed. “I don’t want to hear anymore. Just go and do not accuse Barry of
being a murderer anymore. These were his friends and partners for crying out loud.”
“Okay, Elisabeth, we didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ll just see what’s going to happen
next,” Howard said, and with a sigh, he got up to leave.
Elisabeth felt defeated. She was aware that Lyndon’s behavior had changed since he
had landed in the dome, but she had refused to see it.
All she had done instead was running away from the mess they were in, and escape
in sultry sex, while the community slipped away from her. She was enduring more and
more from him; she had accepted that he wanted full leadership. She was living the life
of his slave woman, and at the end, he would likely kick her out of the community.
“Wait,” she said in a soft voice. “Don’t leave now. Tell me what you know.”
They sank down again. Howard told her that outgoing astronauts always performed a
last checkup before going out. Another astronaut who stayed inside usually did this.
Lyndon was the only one who knew about suits and the poison containers. He could fix
them with his eyes shut. He could have easily mixed the air while the agents were
preparing. It was just a matter of a short time before the blend did its work.
Elisabeth shivered. The words vividly brought up the memories of their desperate
escape. Then too Lyndon had known what to do.
“Can’t we go outside and check out what has happened?”
“Lyndon did not want that. We were going to do it anyway, but we found out we
don’t have any spare oxygen tanks left. We’ve looked around, but couldn’t find any.
Lyndon must have stashed them away.”
If they were right, Lyndon did not want to solve the mystery of the dead agents. This
could only mean one thing. Howard and Andrea were right.
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“He does not want us to know the truth,” she whispered. “He has burned all our
bridges. We’re at the mercy of Kovinsky from now on.”
They could only endorse her words, and after they had left, she burst out in tears,
feeling like a betrayed woman.
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27.
She managed to shun Lyndon for the next couple of days, telling him she was not
feeling okay and he agreed not to come around for the rest of the week. She still refused
to accept that Lyndon had carried off his partners, but inside, she knew someday she
would have to deal with the facts. In the meanwhile, it took all her attention how she
should keep him away from making the community his own. She had to play it
cautiously; he should not be aware he was under suspicion.
Then, a deus-ex-machine fell from heaven.
Kovinsky sent her a message. He sent a communication robot over. It put itself a
kilometer from the dome down and hooked up to the Dome’s main intercom system.
“This is an automated transmission coming from COMSAT3 transferring through
TRANSSAT23 on Mars, calling Doctor Elisabeth McIntosh.”
The suave automated feminine voice repeatedly kept going on until someone
working for Lyndon came to fetch Elisabeth. Howard, Andrea and Jesus accompanied
her.
Lyndon had connected the intercom to his portable receiver that sat on his table. She
entered his quarters, where he was listening to the monotonous call with a grim face. He
did not even turn to her when they burst in.
“It’s for you.” He just said and stood up. She sat down in his chair, staring at the
receiver and then hesitantly answered the call.
“Doctor McIntosh, you have a personal message from John Kovinsky. Please hold
this line.”
Kovinsky? She held her breath. His gruff voice came through, loud and clear.
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“John Kovinsky talking. Elisabeth, thank you for calling in. I’m sorry to say I have
rather bad news. USSA has arrived and has taken over Phobos. I’m afraid to tell you
your son Albert has been taken hostage.”
Albert hostage? Albert wasn’t there, Albert had fled. Albert was in a spacecraft on
his way to Earth. No, he was not – he had not mentioned that. Her mind whirled, trying
to grasp the horrendous truth.
She helplessly turned to Lyndon, who did not wink, and then to Howard.
“He could be telling the truth, Elisabeth. We don’t know when the next ship back to
Earth was due to arrive.”
“John, I want proof. You can’t just tell me more lies; you’ve given me enough of
them.” Elisabeth said. She felt Andrea’s comforting hand on her shoulder.
“This is no lie, Elisabeth. Listen for yourself.”
After a short time, Albert’s voice came through. He sounded worn-out but it was her
son all right.
“Mom, don’t worry. They do not have any right to do this. And don’t give in,
because – “
The sound abruptly cut off and Kovinsky’s voice came in instead again.
“You’ve heard enough, Elisabeth. Now let me tell you our terms.”
Andrea leaned over to Elisabeth. “Do as if you’re willing to negotiate, Elisabeth. Just
listen to what he says.”
Elisabeth nodded, she had a lump in her throat and her voice rasped when she asked
Kovinsky for his claims.
“Tomorrow we will come in, and we want you to open the gate. If not, bloodshed
will happen, and your son’s life will not be spared.”
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Her blood rushed to her head and she felt dizzy spells and was nearly up to the point
of fainting, but she managed to shake it off with a deep breath.
“You’re always welcome, John. You don’t need to bring in brute force.”
“You’ll have to surrender and step down, Elisabeth. The community will be run by
us from now on.”
“Do it, Elisabeth,” Lyndon mingled. “We have no other option.”
“If you give in, they’ll destroy the community, Elisabeth, you know that,” Andrea
said, not taking heed of Lyndon.
“Remember your son’s life is at stake,” Lyndon said, now sitting upright, his body
tensing up.
Albert’s life to swap with her community, this was a dilemma not viable to consider.
Elisabeth sat bold still, her mind in turmoil.
Lyndon tried again. “Elisabeth, give in. It’s not worthy; besides, Kovinsky will
certainly take your position in consideration.”
She seemed to startle at his words and gazed at him. She finally saw him who he
really was. Her eyes shot fire.
“Why are you taking his side, Barry, is there something I’ve got to know? Are you in
his league too? Give me a straight answer for a chance; I’m sick with all that
chicanery.”
Lyndon kept shut. The scales fell from her eyes; she had her proof now. Barry was
one of them. He was the gatekeeper ready to open the door and welcome hell in.
She turned to the intercom again. “Sorry, John. I cannot deal with you like this. Give
me back my son and then we’ll talk.”
Silence at both ends, and then Lyndon jumped up and grabbed her by the arm,
pulling her away from the table.
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“Are you insane, woman? They’re going to break in and Kovinsky will have your
son for breakfast. Try to get some reason in that thick skull of yours.”
Jesus stepped in and pushed Lyndon back. His voice was steady yet menacing. “You
don’t talk to Elisabeth like that, man, keep off, you’ve done enough trouble. We do not
want your kind around anymore. So, scram, go back to your master and go lick his ass.”
They all gaped at Jesus, unsure by his unexpected street talk.
Lyndon’s eyes bulged and with a savage snarl, he took Jesus in a firm grip. With the
other hand he pulled something from his breast pocket and stuck it up to Jesus’ chest. A
short electric spark and Jesus produced a bloodcurdling scream and dropped down, his
hands clawing to his chest, his face wincing with pain.
“He’s got a stunner, watch out!” Andrea shouted. Howard jumped behind Lyndon’s
back, got him in a hammerlock, while Andrea used her foot to kick him in the belly.
They had Lyndon on his knees and then pushed him with supreme effort to the floor
while Lyndon furiously used all his strength to free himself, growling like a raging bear.
Elisabeth knelt at Jesus’ side. He lay trembling with small convulsions. His lips and
his eye bags were turning blue.
Andrea grabbed the stunner from the floor and pushed it to Lyndon’s neck.
“Don’t move an inch, pal, or you’ll end up like him,” she hissed and Lyndon calmed
down and slightly nodded.
“Elisabeth, are you still there?” Kovinsky asked, and then, without further ado broke
off the communication.
While Howard took over from Andrea, she and Elisabeth carried Jesus out of the
room. Though not more than five foot ten, he was heavy, but they managed to get him
into the corridor where other people took over. Then Howard came after her; he
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slammed the door shut and told some of the men to look out that no one were to enter
the room.
They hastily carried Jesus to the sickbay and put him under the scanner. The robot
examined him quickly and the computer voice told them his heart tissue was damaged.
He would need a new heart soon or he would die.
Elisabeth looked beaten. They did not have bionic surgery; that had simply not been
on the list. If Jesus needed a new heart, he had to go back to the Wheel where they
could help him out temporarily before returning to Earth.
The sickbay robot gave him a couple of shots, and Jesus sagged into a coma and his
heart went into hibernation. Some people offered to nurse over him, which Elisabeth
appreciatively granted.
Then she, Howard and Andrea left the bay.
Howard broke their silence. “Lyndon has altered the stunner’s qualifications and
made a murder weapon out of it. It proves he’s the one we were thinking he was,
Elisabeth.”
She nodded, and then lifted her head to glance at both agents. Her eyes were hard.
“From now on, we’ll fight. This community will stand.”
She returned to her room, with Howard and Andrea at her tail.
“What about Albert?” Andrea asked.
“I know, Andrea, but Albert knows too. I’m sure he’ll agree I’ll put up a fight and he
wouldn’t have it another way round.”
It sounded like an epitaph and Andrea wisely did not go into it.
“I’m positive Kovinsky will call you back, Elisabeth,” Howard tried to reassure her.
“You’ve shown you’re not one of his slaves, and he’ll watch out hurting Albert for
personal reasons. In the meanwhile we better prepare for what’s coming our way.”
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“What do you propose, Howard?” she calmly said.
“First of all, we know a way out. That STD, the communication robot that Kovinsky
put op here, can work as our gateway to the Wheel.”
Elisabeth came to an abrupt halt. “You can break in?”
“That’s right, and we’ll have our access thanks to Jack.”
“Jack’s dead, Andrea.”
Andrea nodded. “I know, but he gave us something that’s more worth than a door
key, Elisabeth. He gave us the password.”
They had arrived at her place and sat down at the same spots they had been no more
than an hour ago.
“You remember Jack’s text message? And that intriguing word at the end?” Andrea
went on.
“I do, jack doggone. Jim considered it a kind of password too, but he hadn’t the
chance to work it out, as you know.”
“Yes, but we have. What we’re going to do is using the STD as our go-between and
with a bit of luck we’ll have our entrance in their system no time.”
“My God, I hope you’re right. I want to know Kovinsky’s plans before he decides to
strike.”
“And when we’re in the Wheel, we can sent a message to ISA and tell them what’s
happening here,” Howard went on.
“ISA? Do you think they know about Kovinsky?”
“Trust us, Elisabeth, ISA knew precisely what was going to happen. We have been
screening Kovinsky’s psychological profile for a long time, and were certain to predict
some 80 percent of what was going to happen, but only these last weeks we were sure
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he was starting to lose his marbles. That’s why we have to take him away, to see to it
that he doesn’t rip into a fight over Mars.”
“What do you propose then?”
“First, we’re going to swap hostages, Lyndon for your son. Kovinsky needs Lyndon
for his knowledge of the dome’s weak points; he has no use of Albert. I’m positive we
can bring Albert back to you.”
“If you could do that, it would mean the world to me.”
“Just leave it up to us from now on, Elisabeth.”
“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, guys. At last, you gave me hope again. I
was sincerely contemplating of ending this experiment before terrible things would
happen.”
“This is not an experiment anymore, Elisabeth,” Howard said. “It’s way over that
stage. It has become a society.”
“Tell me, Elisabeth,” Andrea joined in, noticing how bad Elisabeth must feel with
her decision to sacrifice Albert for their sake. “Why is your son called Albert? It’s not a
usual name, far from it.”
“My late husband was an admirer of Einstein, Andrea, so he wanted our son to be the
next Albert.”
They both smiled, amused by that anecdote.
“And do you believe in Einstein, Elisabeth?” Howard asked. “If I’m correct it was
Einstein who said and I quote: science without religion is lame. Religion without
science is blind.”
“You mean with evolutionism and all? Really, lately I’m not sure if there’s such
thing as evolution.”
“I see what you mean; we’re still acting like primates, aren’t we?”
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“Not every human is, Howard,” she said. ‘But sometimes, it’s hard to tell.”
Howard changed the subject. “Now, first thing first. We've got to find out what
happened to the agents. We’ll have to go out for a while. At the same time, we’ll find
out about the STD.”
After they had left, Elisabeth stayed in her room, with the intercom ready. She had
once turned it into a warm nest, but that belonged to the past now. She stared at the
berth where she and Lyndon had spent so much wonderful hours. She remembered their
vehement lovemaking vividly. That was over and it would never come back. But she
did not feel any regrets. All that mattered now was getting Albert back.
Both ISA agents were back within the hour. They looked ill at ease after their
excursion, having used up their already weakening energy. Elisabeth made them mugs
of hot oolong tea and after a while, they revived and made themselves comfortable.
Howard told her they had searched the dead agents and found the oxygen containers
empty, which was certain proof that Lyndon had indeed messed up their supply.
Elisabeth felt a stabbing pain in her heart; at last, she knew that her lover was a cold-
blooded murderer.
The good news was that they had managed to reverse the connection between the
STD and the Wheel.
They also had their hands on Jim Horner’s transmitter. It was attached to his suit and
covered in a photon resistant packing. It branched off the incidence of light, in a way
that it became invisible to the naked eye.
Howard put it on to read its log. Horner’s last communication with the Wheel dated
from the time he had decided to join the community. The last message came from the
Wheel, urgently demanding him to report back. So, they had been accusing Jim all the
time for being their Judas, while Lyndon was gearing up his evil mission.
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“If Kovinsky would know he had offered us a gift, he would freak out,” Andrea said.
She held a pocket computer in her hand.
“I’m afraid he’s passed that stage a long time ago,” Elisabeth said, which they did
not contradict. Andrea logged in.
“Okay, we’re in the Wheel’s bowels. I’m typing Dan’s login code, and here we are.”
They all stared at the small screen and Andrea looked up to Elisabeth. “Are you
ready, Elisabeth? We might fight skeletons in the closet.”
“Go on, Andrea.”
She saw Andrea typing in ‘jack doggone’ and a list of words popped up.
Howard stooped to see better while Elisabeth did not want to come closer; she had an
anxious foreboding.
“A lot of technical text material,” Andrea muttered, while scrolling down the list.
“Nothing we can use at first sight.”
“Maybe the message sits before our nose,” Howard suggested. “Try One Dome.”
Andrea gave away a little yell. “One Dome.”
She clicked the map open. They all stared over her shoulder. Jack had written a
statement. It read ‘The truth about One Dome.”
“I better download it,” Andrea mumbled. “We can’t stroll along too long without
being noticed.”
Then, Andrea rummaged on and came up with a video directory.
“Mmmm… I wonder if…" She called up the list. A bundle of video files, but one of
them drew her attention. “SDT/2D.”
“2D. I bet that’s us, Two Dome,” she said. “Apparently they have installed cameras
in the premises. Maybe it is just about monitoring, let’s hope so, I’ll download the
recordings anyway.”
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The download took only some seconds and Andrea logged out again.
After a couple of minutes, she had decrypted the files on her computer. She started
with the last video, which, looking at the date and time, was apparently transmitted just
before the fatal accident.
It was an instant hit. It showed Margaret and her crew sitting at the table, talking and
laughing. The sound was off; probably Margaret had done that herself. They stared
petrified at the footage. Elisabeth came closer and almost screamed out as she watched
a living Margaret just some time before her death.
“I can’t watch this,” she said. “Tell me later; I’m going to see Jesus again.”
Arriving at sickbay, Elisabeth saw Jesus still lying quietly. His body was constantly
checked upon and he had an oxygen mask on and IV for nutrition. His condition looked
to be steady. A robot was massaging the heart. It sent continuous data to the screen.
‘Acute condition – new heart pump needed in 92 hours.’
Jesus was not alone; his true followers dropped by, two by two to see him, and they
stood wordlessly at the side of his bed, softly weeping and praying.
She still had not found the backbone to tell them what was to happen. Would they be
willing to fight for what was dear to them, or would they surrender and turn the
community back to Kovinsky? She knew she needed an angel of mercy who would take
them by the hand and pull them over, but there were no angels of mercy on Mars. The
odds were that Kovinsky was probably getting his assault troops together right now.
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28.
That evening Andrea and Howard dropped by, looking concerned.
Andrea got a paper out. “Here’s the transcript of what Jack wrote. Read it first, and
then decide if you want to watch the video too. It’s not really a happy one.”
Elisabeth was intensely reading while both agents were minding their own business.
“To whom it concerns. Report written by Jack Armstrong after the second Mars
expedition in respect to One Dome.”
His prose was very much to the point; he didn’t waste more words then needed and it
made clear what had gone on in One Dome.
One Dome was abandoned in a state of panic, with people trampled to death while
boarding on the shuttles, children separated from their parents, men and women
screaming with fear of death. Every possibility that would lead to failure had come true.
A nightmare had developed within months. If something could go wrong, it would. The
official explanation was oxygen deficiency, caused by miscalculated dioxide levels. It
was more than technical flaws though. It was about people not being able to live
together. Eventually the community broke down, and the fighting started between small
gangs, then escalated and soon larger groups and coalitions were forging, taking the
shape of real war parties. A war fought in a secluded netherworld, a nightmarish
episode that turned into complete bedlam.
“I’ve read enough,” Elisabeth softly said. She sent a thank-you to Jack wherever he
was now. At the same time, it finally dawned on her why they had given her carte
blanche. Her experiment had everything the previous expedition had lacked. And now,
Kovinsky wanted to seize the victory and claim his faithful rights.
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She turned to the agents. “I know now we’ve made the right decision to stay put. I
will not surrender.”
Andrea nodded her approval. “That is good news, Elisabeth. I suggest you should
watch the sitcom video too. It will take your last doubts away.”
She nodded and Andrea opened the video file on her reader and they watched
Margaret again, talking and laughing captured by a 180 degrees pan cam. Andrea fast-
forwarded the video until they saw Margaret talking in the intercom. Then she ordered
the crew to leave the room, and then Lyndon came in.
He was softly talking to her, both were standing up. They could not hear what they
said, but their conversation suddenly turned into violent arguments. They were both
screaming, making wild gestures and for a moment, Elisabeth was certain Lyndon was
going to hit her, but then she saw him shrug his shoulders, and they calmed down. She
felt a twinge in the chest when Lyndon put his arms around Margaret and held her tight.
They did not move for some seconds. Then he whispered something in her ear, she
nodded slowly and he let her go. He took a small device from his pocket and laid it on
the table.
She stood with bowed head, did not look at him anymore, while he walked out again.
Elisabeth stared mesmerized to the screen, not knowing what to make of it.
“Now comes the hard part,” Andrea muttered while she again pushed the fast-
forward button.
They suddenly saw Margaret move. She sank down in a chair at the table, her head
leaning in her hands. There she sat for about half an hour, Andrea explained, and she
skipped the recording up to the point when Margaret took the device in both hands.
Andrea zoomed in. It looked like a palm size black cylinder.
“Brace yourself, Elisabeth,” Andrea muttered again. Elisabeth held her breath.
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Margaret looked at the cylinder in her hand for a minute and then, resolutely, made a
screwing gesture with the other hand. She put the device back on the table and sank on
her knees, praying like a child at its bedside.
Then hell broke lose. There was an orange flash, a whoosh of exploding air and the
camera had gone.
Elisabeth stared at the static snow speechlessly. The accusation of sabotaging the
satcom had become true, though with postponement.
“She killed herself,” Andrea whispered. They were both watching the monitor snowy
image with horror.
“Why?” Elisabeth asked to the screen.
“We’ll never know, will we? We only know it came from Lyndon and that he
somehow managed to talk her into it.”
“Oh my God, why did she do that?”
“As I said, we’ll never know, we can only speculate. But I don’t think we should, it’s
over.”
It was not over yet, Elisabeth decided.
“Can you manipulate this footage?”
Andrea widened her eyes. “Manipulate? Why?”
“I want to use it against Kovinsky.”
“I doubt he’ll take it to heart. He had his explosion, his evidence of sabotage.
Margaret was of no use to him anymore.”
“I’ll see that it will. I want to cut out the suicide part. I want it to look like Lyndon
has caused the explosion.”
Andrea and Howard widened their eyes some more.
“I’m beginning to understand. I didn’t think you had it in you, Elisabeth.”
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“I’m a fast learner, Howard. So, can you do that?”
“You need someone who’s familiar with this kind of stuff. I think Pete would be the
right man to it. He knows some things about imagery.”
“Perfect. He just has to cut out the part where they hug and just before the blast.”
Andrea looked exited. Being an agent herself, she appreciated Elisabeth spy trickery.
“And after that’s done, I want you to send the fixed recording back to the Wheel in
case Kovinsky will ferret about. And then, I want you to show it to everyone, in the
auditorium and within the hour. This is the final straw. I will make a statement. If the
community wants to fight, we will do it. If not, I’ll arrange a meeting with Kovinsky.”
Andrea put her hand over Elisabeth’s. “I’m sure people will back you up one
hundred percent, Elisabeth. We won’t let you down, I promise.”
She went off to catch Pete. Suddenly, the intercom came briskly to life.
“Doctor McIntosh, you have a personal message from John Kovinsky. Please hold
this line.”
She startled and turned her eyes to the intercom.
“Are you going to answer it?” Howard asked anxiously.
“Put him on, I want to hear what he wants.”
“John Kovinsky talking. Elisabeth, we seemed to have been interrupted. I need to
know your decision right now. Do not disconnect, this is my last offer. I will give you
your son back in exchange of free entrance. No soldiers, no combats, just a peaceful
meeting.”
“He’s giving in,” Howard whispered. “You can negotiate now.”
“Thanks John, you know I want Albert back, but you also know I want the
community to keep out of danger.”
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“Elisabeth, we have been monitoring your people doing something with the STD. As
far as I see, they have broken in on us and we are working it out right now. Don’t make
it hard on you, it’s not worth it.”
“John, is Lyndon working for you?”
Kovinsky at his turn seemed set back by this unexpected question.
“Why do you ask, Elisabeth? Is that important?”
“It is, John. He has murdered Jim Horner and his men and Margaret has died because
of him. He destroyed the communication with the station and put us out of control and
into your hands.”
“Elisabeth, I’ve just got a message stating that you’ve been peeping in Jack’s files. I
have decided to shut the STD down. I have to see first what it’s all about. Whatever the
outcome, I want your decision within the hour.”
Shutting the STD down? She had to stall him while Pete was working on the
recording.
“If you shut it down, we’ll have no communication at all, John.”
“That’s true and so, I beg you to be reasonable. Your son or else, you can make out
the picture yourself.”
“I want to make a proposition first. I want to trade Lyndon for Albert.”
“I am willing to negotiate. May I ask what have you done with Lyndon?”
“He’s in custody right now and I’m intended to let him talk.”
“Let Lyndon talk? So what?”
“We’ll broadcast a full statement of what’s happened to One Dome.”
“What happened to One Dome?”
“Jack has stated that you were one of the culprits who saved their own skin while
people were being stampeded. You can read it in his files.”
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“There were circumstances you don’t know about, Elisabeth. It’s Jack’s words
against mine.”
“Only one out of three arrived safely on the Wheel, John. What happened to the
others?”
“It’s been ten years ago. I don’t remember.”
“Come on, John, I have a list here of survivors who are willing to break their oath of
secrecy.”
That was pure bluffing but Kovinsky seemed to have trouble to deal with it.
“Right, you’re blackmailing me. I didn’t expect that from you, Elisabeth.”
“I’m not completely living in an ivory tower, John. Don’t underestimate me, please.”
“I don’t, Elisabeth; not any more. You win, I’ll send a party over for the swap.”
“Thanks, John, and I warn you, don’t fiddle with us. We have some guns around
here, courtesy of your little helpers. And we know how to defend ourselves
underhandedly.”
Kovinsky’s voice sounded like he was grimacing. “You’ve learned your lesson well,
and I appreciate that, Elisabeth. As far as I can see, you hold the ball now, but the game
is not over yet. After the swap, I want your decision and it will be final. It’s up to you.”
He broke off. They could almost sense his malice.
“That went like a bomb,” Howard said admiringly. “Now we’ve still have some time
to act properly.”
“I first want my son back,” she said. “Then we’ll see.”
“Should we not call up the community first? They’ll have to be prepared and we
don’t want a panic on our hands.”
Panic... that’s what happened to the last expedition.
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“You’re right. I suggest you rally the people go to the auditorium and show them the
video, while I wait for Albert’s arrival at the reception.”
“Sounds okay, Elisabeth. We’ll order some of our best people to stand by you. Now,
let’s rock.” Howard jumped up and walked out to prepare Lyndon for the swap and to
select twenty tough looking and armed settlers to accompany Elisabeth to the reception
hall.
Albert came in half an hour later, accompanied by ten fully armed USSA soldiers.
They stayed in the jet way and did not come in.
They had set Lyndon up ready to go. He had not put up a fight, knowing it was over
for him. He was ready to leave.
Before they put his helmet on, his eyes met Elisabeth in a collected way.
“Elisabeth, you’ll end up a spinster, you’ll die an old maid. You could have shared
everything with me. Think about what you’re missing.”
She did not go into his conceited invitation. He did not exist anymore.
They put the helmet over his head and she instantly forgot about him when Albert
walked up to her. She threw herself in his arms, so much relieved that everything had
come together and that they were together at last.
Lyndon had gone before she knew.
Back in her room, she looked Albert over. He was in good shape. Kovinsky seemed
to have looked after him.
“Have they treated you well?” she asked, sounding like the caring mother. They sat
close together, drinking fusion tea.
“Everything’s alright, Mom, but the army is standing by. Have you made up your
mind? Kovinsky told me he wanted your decision upon my arrival.”
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It took her back to reality, realizing she had to carry the full weight with nobody very
keen on taking over.
“He’s really pissed, Mom, and I’m afraid he’s going to let the troops in.”
“He’s insane, Albert.”
“Insane or not, this could turn into a bloody war.”
“I know, Albert, but first, I need the community’s approval. This is not a regime. We
don’t want another Kovinsky around here.”
“You’re right, but don’t forget: half an hour.”
It sounded like Kovinsky was talking through Albert. She asked him if they had
brainwashed him.
“You mean mind control? Not yet, he had to wait for the Secretary of Space Army’s
permission. But you were faster.”
That took a heavy load of her mind.
While they were talking, the community saw the fixed video recording and had
learned about Kovinsky’s maneuvers and they unanimously agreed they would not hand
the dome over. They pledged they would even fight until the end. Elisabeth did not need
any statement to bring them across.
Kovinsky was back a minute before deadline.
“Elisabeth – sixty seconds. Tell me now or we’re done.”
“We’ve made up our mind, John. It’s a big no. We’re not prepared to give in, but you
can always make a better deal.”
He did not say anything back, instead shut off the connection.
It is war, Elisabeth said to herself, but strangely enough, she was not scared. She felt
like an early Christian walking head-up into the Roman arena to face the wild animals.
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Religion… her mind wandered to Jesus. His recovery was in the hands of Kovinsky.
He would die if he stayed here.
How many sacrifices can you bear? How many martyrs did it take?
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29.
“Water…”
Jesus was awake, asking for water. Elisabeth hurried to sickbay. He was sitting
upright, his oxygen mask dangling at his chest. A self-proclaimed nurse was in lead,
helped by some of the people from his group.
They let her through. She knelt at the bed.
“Jesus, are you alright? Don’t sit up yet,” Elisabeth urged.
He stared at her as he noticed her for the first time.
“Water…”
“Here’s some water, Jesus,” Elisabeth took the mug from the nurse and passed it to
his lips. He warded it off and the mug fell on the floor.
“No, keep the water away from them.”
He was clearly delirious. The nurse had a hypodermic in her hand, ready to
administer.
“You need to shut off the water. They cannot live without, hurry before they –“
He suddenly sunk back, bug-eyed, gasping for air.
Albert, Howard, Andrea, Mike and Linda, who were a couple now, burst in.
“How is he?” Albert asked in a worried voice.
“He has a setback, he needs to be operated quickly,” Elisabeth said in a desperate
voice. She told him Jesus had mentioned something about water and it had to be kept
away from them.
They went out the sickbay and into the cafeteria. Mike went to fetch tea.
“Do you believe in clairvoyance, Elisabeth?” Linda asked.
Elisabeth looked at her in wonder. “Why do you ask, Linda?”
She knew Linda was into occultism, the paranormal things.
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“Maybe Jesus in his state of mind had a vision,” Linda went on.
“A vision? About water?”
“Maybe he was trying to tell you something, Elisabeth.”
“And what might that be?”
“I guess Linda’s making sense,” Mike said while distributing the cups of tea.
“Explain that to me then, I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
“Jesus sent us a message to the defense of our community, and it has to do with the
water,” Linda went on, now much rapt about it.
“God, you’re right,” Albert burst out. He addressed his mother with increasing
excitement.
“You recall, Mom, that I’m working on an elevator between Pho and Dei to establish
a new line for hydrogen cargo transits.”
“I vaguely remember, Albert.”
He started to explain to the others. He told them that the North Pole took care of the
Wheel’s water supply. “Basically, we use a catalyst to convert water to hydrogen, beam
up the stuff with laser technology to the Wheel where it’s reconverted and bingo, we
have potable water.”
“I see what you mean. You want the North Pole plant to be shut off,” Howard cried
out.
Albert grinned. “If the Wheel doesn’t get the stuff anymore, we can imagine what
will happen. Kovinsky will have a lot to explain.”
Howard sided with him. “The only other place he might pull water from is Ceres, but
it would last for at least three months before everything’s set.”
Elisabeth turned to him. “Are you thinking of sabotage?”
“Sort of, just what we need to gain time.”
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“Time for what, Albert?”
“I’ve learned while in captivity that Kovinsky wants the community in his power
before Bellum arrives.”
She could see why Kovinsky wanted to put a lid on his own sordid past. The only
way to do that was to silence the community, and the best way to do that was
eliminating its leaders. She would be the first in line.
“Okay, do it, and do it fast. Maybe we can stall him in the meanwhile.”
“We’ll take the quads and we’ll go off as soon as possible,” Albert said, much taken
up by his newfound role as heroic liberator.
“How long will you be off?” Elisabeth asked. She had a nasty feeling about it, Albert
going away with Kovinsky on his heels and Howard, having endured so much radiation
before.
“We should arrive there in less then forty-eight hours, and take care of the tool
robots in a couple of hours. So, we’ll be back in five days at the most.”
Five days. “You know Kovinsky will be here before you’re back. His troops will
besiege us and who knows what comes next. But you’ll be out there, and what will
happen if they catch you?”
“Don’t worry, Mom, just hold the fort. Do you have someone with a military
background who knows about strategy and tactics?”
Andrea came to her rescue. “I’ll stay with you, Elisabeth. Together, we’ll hold the
fort.”
Andrea would certainly hold grounds and Elisabeth felt more reassured then before.
Andrea went on. “We’ll make up our tactics and see what we can do.”
“We’ll take Jim’s transmitter with us, Al,” Howard said. “Come to think of it, why
don’t we use cameras for visual aid? They are self-supporting and they can broadcast
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the images on the wide screen. That way you can see them coming and make quick
decisions.”
Albert whistled. “Wow, that’s real mind-blowing, Howie.”
“Thanks, Al. Now, let’s move on before those bastards fall in from the sky.”
They seemed to make a good partnership; Elisabeth felt relieved while they walked
away.
“Elisabeth, I have an idea how to take the troops off our backs,” Andrea said.
Ideas seem to pop up at light speed, Elisabeth thought, feeling much more good-
humored with every new suggestion. “Let’s hear it, Andrea.”
“I hope it won’t go against the grain for what I’m about to tell you, Elisabeth.”
“Just tell it, Andrea. I’ve been through a heck of a time lately and I’m sure I can bear
whatever falls down on me.”
“Before Marge had been cremated, we’ve dug up the chip they had implanted in her
skull.”
Elisabeth remembered. Her mind flew back to the cargo shuttle on its way to the
Wheel. As it happened, Marge had involuntarily been powering up her service
transmitter, making Linda feel bad vibrations and Dan freaking out.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re telling me, Andrea.”
“These transmitters are all the same for every soldier. Their implanted codes work
the same way. Howard has recovered their frequencies and we can alter them in a way
we can take advantage of.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“Then we can use the chip as a transmitter to intercept their messages, and send out
fake orders instead, thereby causing enough racket to drive the troops insane.”
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“That’s heavy, Andrea. But I’m sure Kovinsky will soon find out and bring them
back on the right trail.”
“We’ll send so much meddling signals that they’ll start to see ghosts and turn to
friendly fire as we call it. These people do not deploy initiative on themselves; they act
like blind moles. They have to take orders from a complex network of satellites, ground
stations and STD's, and sometimes tactical computers take over for minor combined
actions.”
“Now I see. That would be wonderful, Andrea. If that could happen, I’m sure they’ll
think twice before they launch another attack.”
“That’s right, Elisabeth, if you don’t mind, I’ll go now. I have some code writing to
do.”
Albert and Howard had installed portable ground-view cameras at the gateway and
the service shaft and put the images to the wide screen. It showed split screens, each one
representing a camera, so they could see which way the soldiers coming.
And they came. Next day, while Albert and Howard were still on their way to the
Pole, several shuttles landed and troops in orange camouflage suits jumped out fully
armed and moving in an orderly way towards the site. Andrea zoomed in to the south
side, where the shaft was located. They could clearly see the blast of the exploding
doorway.
The first military invasion on Mars was happening before their eyes. They had never
imagined something like that would happen with their non-violent community, but
instead of fear, they grew anger. The only effect Kovinsky’s sad display of power had
on them was that of resolute conviction. It was the best propaganda tool. It only turned
the settlement into people determined to defend their proper rights.
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The troops approached from the east and the west, spreading out an encircling
maneuver. They eased down and everything moved in slow motion now like in a mute
TV-show. The troops had no idea they were captured by the cameras and they
approached with plenty of over-confidence.
Howard had installed an infrared camera at the shaft’s entrance, for Elisabeth and
Andrea’s eyes only. They had withdrawn to Jim Horner’s former quarters, which had
been turned into a command centre, where they could watch the troops coming in.
Staring at the screen and watching the troops enter the shaft, Andrea turned to
Elisabeth. Her face was stony as always in times of tension, but her eyes had a gentle
glance.
She was concentrated on the shaft’s camera sight.
“They’re halfway in. It’s time to rock, let the fireworks commence.”
“Cross fingers, Andrea.”
Andrea touched the monitor screen. A diagram of the service pipe appeared, showing
red dots that were moving towards them. A serious of code numbers emerged.
“These are the access codes of every soldier in the tunnel,” Andrea explained. “As
you can see, their skull transmitters are sending data to the brass or whatever’s
manipulating them. We can intercept them and transform them. In a moment I’ll start
scrambling up those data and we’ll see what happens next.”
They could see shadows cautiously moving in the shaft, which was illuminated by
their small headset flashlights that turned their path into a strobe lighting hallucination.
Andrea turned the sound louder and grabbed her pocket computer.
A strong voice suddenly broke in from the speaker, which made them startle.
“Target approaching. Two hundred meters. No resistance.”
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“They should get the message by now,” Andrea mumbled pent-up. She did
something on her computer.
And the message came through. Suddenly the troops seemed to be in utter confusion,
stopping short and the flashlights were jumping up and down. Voices mixing up,
tumbling over in total confusion.
“Look out, people, bogeys behind our backs.”
“Hey, lieutenant – what’s ya saying?”
“Bogeys, dammit. Turn back, we’re surrounded.”
“I don’t see the enemy, lieutenant. Where the fuck are ---“
“Don’t shoot, you bastards. It’s me, Mallet, aaaah --- shit ---“
“Hell, what’s going on here, God – I’m hit ---“
“Fuckin’ bastards – don’t use the goddamn grenades for Chrissake –“
The soldiers opened fire at random, while withdrawing in disorder. Several hit the
ground and were dragged out or left behind by their friends in arms. The sound of ear-
splitting explosions was even heard without the speakers on.
Andrea shut the screen off.
“I believe we’ve seen enough of it. It’s a total victory. We lead them to suppose they
were under attack from all sides, and we pointed out who the attackers were.”
It was like a cruel video game, but it had not missed its effect and the troops were
gone before they knew and they were safe again. People acting like dogs, Elisabeth
thought. Again, Jack was right.
They had beaten off the dogs of war, not by guns but by cheer wit. They had used
intelligence over brute force and it had paid off.
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When they entered the auditorium, the community rose to a man and gave them a
round of applause. Elisabeth just now saw the troops moving out from the service shaft
and then the screen windows were empty again. They had gone.
Then Kovinsky came in strong and they all jumped when his voice resounded in the
hall.
“Congratulations, Elisabeth. You’ve driven us back and how. Quite a performance, I
dare say. I did not expect you would put up that much resistance and you seem to have
some kind of a secret weapon. Well, what can I say? It’s obvious we cannot send any
more troops in; I do not want them to return in body bags. If you wonder how I can get
through to you, the troops have placed several intercom connections around the
periphery. If you want to contact me, just use your intercom. I hope you do, Elisabeth,
so that we can work it out. I’ll call you in an hour back, if you don’t call me first.”
The people watched her attentively and Elisabeth was aware of it. Again, the weight
was on her shoulders. They still looked upon her as their leader.
“They want to negotiate, Elisabeth. Don’t you think it’s the right moment to do so?”
one of the settlers asked and several agreed.
Elisabeth said they needed some more time, though she did not explain why and the
settlers seemed to accept it. She assured them the troops would not come back, but if
they would, they would give them a good trashing. Applause again, and she knew now
everything was going to be all right.
They were back in their control room. Elisabeth seemed to be uptight. Andrea asked
her why.
“If Albert and Howard don’t manage, we won’t have any wild card left. And I
wouldn’t know how to negotiate on nothing more than wishful thinking.”
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“It’s the way it works, Elisabeth. All that boasting and bluffing, that's like gorillas
challenging each other, slamming their breast, screaming and jumping about to show
who’s the boss. It’s only imposing; it’s what every nation does when feeling in danger.”
“That’s nicely put, Andrea. You should have gone into politics,” Elisabeth said with
a gentle smile. She had grown to like Andrea and did not see her as a hit woman
anymore.
“As a matter of fact, being an agent I had to study international politics. It will not
help me much around here, will it? It’s Mars versus Earth we’re playing here. It’s a
dangerous game and there are no winners. Only a character like Kovinsky is convinced
he can still be the victor. We will show him he can’t. We’ll impose our way out.”
“Deterrence policy,” Elisabeth said.
Andrea looked at her questionably.
“I remember that from the past; well, it was long before I was born, when Earth had
two superpowers that continuously tried to take the lead. They chiefly used two kinds of
deterrence policy: by punishment and by denial. Using punishment was a strategy of
threatening with retaliation if attacked. With denial, a government maintains defense
systems with the purported aim of neutralizing or mitigating attacks. Deterrence was
considered as a way to reach a negotiated settlement. It had a name, mutual assured
destruction.”
“Uh-hu, I see what you mean. And which strategy do you prefer?”
“It’s needless to say that punishment doesn’t work; it would imply the use of
weaponry and eventually lead to escalations. At the time, nuclear weapons ware
massively built. Though they could have used it, they had not. They just kept on
overawing and beckoning until one would give in, and it finally paid off. At the end of
the day, America won, not by arms, but by the best gorilla technique.”
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“So?”
“So, as far as I see it, we have two means: the North Pole water plant, which will
undoubtedly lead to another influx of troops and Kovinsky proving we’re just a bunch
of terrorists and saboteurs, or showing we want to cooperate to live together in peace.”
Andrea stared at her in unbelief.
“You want the water operation called off?”
“Yes. It will lead us to nowhere, except that the Wheel will start to hate us and Earth
will be notified of our inhumanity.”
“But the guys are underway; we can’t reach them anymore. They’ll put the water
works out of order and then it’s too late.”
“We can call them back.”
“But how?”
“I’ll make a deal with Kovinsky.”
“Again? You’re out of your mind, Elisabeth. I don’t trust he’ll negotiate on your
terms.”
“He will, and I’ll make him an offer he won’t refuse.”
“Do we still have offers to make, Elisabeth?” Andrea sounded sordid now.
“Let me do the talking, Andrea. I prefer doing it in privacy, between the two of us.”
“Okay, it’s your call. But I strongly object, and if it doesn’t work out as you plan it,
we’ll have to switch to some Plan B.”
“Trust me, Andrea. There’s no need for a Plan B, or a Plan C. Everything will turn
out fine.”
After Andrea had gone, the weight on her shoulders seemed to double. She counted
the minutes off and when Kovinsky was back, she requested to continue their
conversation in private mode.
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After a while, he replied. “The auditorium’s PA has been shut off, so we can talk
privately.”
“John, you now know we have something up our sleeves. Why don’t we settle down
this dog fight and try to reason for a change?”
“I certainly would, Elisabeth, but the President is on his way and I want to show him
we’ve everything in hand here, which at the moment we have not.”
Was Kovinsky hoping for some kind of initiative on her behalf? Was he willing to sit
at the table and discuss peace? Kovinsky, being a megalomaniac and bipolarized
person, she had to be gentle with him and leave him in his pride and delusions.
“John, what is so crucial to you that Bellum has to know?”
Kovinsky wavered; she intuitively grasped he wanted to level with her.
“You know, John, before you turned into some type of conqueror I kind of fancied
you. Maybe we could turn that to our mutual gain if you only listen to me.”
“I’m always all ears to you, Elisabeth.”
“Okay then. If I sound like the schoolteacher I am, don’t be annoyed. I just want to
demonstrate something.”
“I won’t, Elisabeth, so fire away.”
“Here we go. You know that all nations are born from violence.”
“I can live with that, Elisabeth.”
“Most people don’t like violence; they want peace; they want to prosper, have
families, see their children grown healthy and happily. They do not want all that misery
caused by wars, but some do and they get a kick out of destruction or they want fame
and fortune by means of aggression. The best way to achieve it is offer their services to
the weak communities who cannot or will not fight. The warlord, smart as he is, creates
conditions that will persuade the communities to beg for their protection against other
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warlords. From time to time, the warlords engage in conflicts, just to show how needed
they are, until one of them skedaddle. The community will honor the victor, who will
take the opportunity to seize the defeated ones to his assets also. A nation is born and to
keep it short, a state, taxes, military service and institutions are not far away. And that’s
what I’m afraid of. You are the type of warlord defying the other warlord to take away
his land.”
“Nice tale, Elisabeth, but I don’t seem to see your point.”
“My point is that I’m not a worthy opponent, John. It is not a feat if you defeat me.
Actually, I’m sure it will be your Pyrrhic victory. Nobody will pay homage to you
therefore; you’ll end up in history as the man who fought a woman over a red rock that
nobody’s interested in.”
“I don’t see it that way, Elisabeth. People will lionize me for my work here, and they
will forget in time what really happened here. That’s what history learns. The downside
will double up into the past.”
“You may be right, John, but you won’t know. You and I will be gone by then. I’m
still persuaded that we should be better off if we cooperate, instead of flying at each
other’s throats.”
“I’m still all ears, Elisabeth, so what do you have up your sleeve?”
“As we speak some of our people are killing the North Pole water plant and as such,
you will not have water for days on a row. That will mean squabbling at the next board
of directors meeting, John, and I do not have to emphasize that some of your people on
the Wheel will not approve your conduct either. If they can’t have drinkable water or
have their daily shower or their meals properly cooked, your place in history might be
that of a bummer, John.”
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“Damn it, Elisabeth, that’s immoral what you’re doing. I can have you shot on the
spot.”
“But you won’t, John, since you won’t gain anything from it. And when Bellum
arrives and finds everything’s in a mess and my people and your people on the brink of
revolting, I’m afraid you might be pretty stuck in a jumble.”
Kovinsky had trouble holding his temper and Elisabeth could hear him heavily
breathe. She was not sure if her deterrent politics would work on him; she just had to
take a bed on it.
Then he was back, cool again. “Okay, Elisabeth, we can do it the other way. So,
what’s your offer?”
“I propose that from now on, we live together in harmony, at least until the President
arrives. You know his findings will lord over everything you fight for, so why not
pretend we like each other and help each other out?”
“You won’t let me in, if it’s that what I’m thinking.”
“No, leave us alone, John. Take Base Camp and One Dome for all that matters.
Make it a livable place again, wipe those bad memories off and start all over again. You
have the intention to rebuild the place after all, but we shouldn’t tarry.”
“That’s not a deal, Elisabeth. I was going to take One Dome anyway.”
“I’m not finished yet, John. Further, more, I want you to pick up the bodies of those
poor people lying outside and in the shaft, and take one of our people to the Wheel to
have him cured. And let my son and his friend come back to us in one piece. You can
pick them up on their way to the Pole, you’ve still got time.”
“That’s more than I want to hear, Elisabeth, but okay then, let’s shake on it. I’m
afraid though that Bellum will not show the same patience as I have. There will come a
time that we will need to expand, as more and more settlers will pull in. And then your
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perfect community will be invited to join, but I’m afraid ‘invite’ will not be the proper
word they’ll use.”
“I’m aware of that, John, and we’ll be ready when time comes.”
“By the way, Elisabeth, do you know the history of Rome?”
“Rome? What do you mean, John?”
“Well, talking about warlords. Rome once was a small village with a strong warlord
type of man or family. Some villages were only happy to call them up for helping them
out of trouble, whatever that was. Other villages were aware they were successful in
doing so, and so they asked for their help as well. The Romans found out they did not
have to work their fingers to the bone anymore. All they had to do was offering their
services, receive the grateful gifts and have a ball. Before long, they were on their way
to world domination. So, I don’t think your comparison applies to all circumstances,
Elisabeth, in my opinion you should be glad I’m not a Roman warlord.”
“Sounds more like the mob boss to me the way you describe it, John. Maybe their
opponents were simply no match to them. Policy of mutual assured destruction at an
early stage.”
“What?”
“Never mind, John. Just do what you have to do, and we’ll be friends for ever.”
Kovinsky promised and after they had parted, she stared blankly at the intercom and
began to pray. She prayed for the welfare of her community, for Albert’s safe return and
Kovinsky’s horse sense.
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30.
Kovinsky kept his word. He did not carry out his threats and his troops picked Albert
and Howard up, who were about to reach their target and they delivered them back in
one piece.
They were not bothered anymore. Even Bellum did not hassle with them and stayed
on the Wheel, and as far as they could see, Kovinsky soon started to turn One Dome
into a construction site. Albert had found his niche in the community, fixing technical
stuff. Three months after the infamous conflict, Sharon was pregnant and it was a
surprise for Elisabeth to hear that it had involved her son. If everything turned out to be
fine, she would be a grandma soon.
The community was growing into a real society as Howard had said. They had
named some of the rooms after people who had contributed to their protection with their
lives. They included Jack Armstrong, Dan Pelsmaker, Margaret Rinsford and special
agents Jim Horner, Hank and Marvin. Jesus was fortunate enough not to be on the list;
he had left them with the next shipment earthbound. His days on Mars were over, but
his spiritual work would continue and grow into a new religion, a Martian religion.
Kovinsky’s workers were building the causeway between both Domes at fast speed.
The towering excavators drilled the tunnel ends to knot them together up to a last ten
centimeters thick partition located at the initial shaft’s entrance.
These ten centimeters represented the last step to connect both domes. Then, the
message came. The President formally invited Elisabeth to participate the ceremony of
breaking down the last wall bit. She agreed on condition that they would not come into
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Two Dome. She declared the former decompression chamber as their no man’s land, the
spot to start negotiations and make everlasting deals.
While waiting for the workers to finish off the job, Elisabeth watched taped
recordings of the rebuilt One Dome in its full glory. Where once death had lured, she
could now see elated people gathering for this exciting and unprecedented period in the
history of America: the President moving his office to Mars.
Bellum would join the banquet in One Dome before he would come across the
tunnel. Watching the broadcast, she took the expensive clothing in, the jewels the
invitees wore, but she was not feeling envy; she felt compassion for this ignorant
people. They were so out of order here on this planet. They would never know how to
behave themselves and pull through. She knew One Dome would soon become extinct
again, and with it Kovinsky, President of the Martina Federation, and everything that
meant evilness to her. A morbid reflection somehow secretly pleased her. At the end,
her community would still be ruling Mars.
The tunnel’s completion was nearing. She saw the last partition tumble down in big
lumps and clouds of ten years of old dust, light beams piercing in and suddenly the
opening was large enough to let a grown man pass. It was time to meet halfway.
Elisabeth walked out the auditorium alone. She had instructed her people not to join
her; this was a matter between her and Bellum. She ordered them to close the gate and
stepped towards the decompression room. She waited patiently at the former entrance
doorway. Pressurized air was pumped down the tunnel and therefore she did not need to
wear protective clothing.
She saw a small magnet levitation train coming down, and fifty meters from where
she stood, it came hissing like a steam machine to a standstill. The doors slit open and
there descended not Bellum, but John Kovinsky who walked offhandedly towards her,
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followed by a lot of clumsy moving broadcast people. Elisabeth gazed at him as she if
was seeing a specter. But Kovinsky was alive and well and he embraced Elisabeth who
stood frozen. She felt out of place in the camera floodlights barging in.
“Elisabeth, at last we meet again.”
“Why are you doing this to me, John?” she hissed, but he did not wink and just stood
there looking so triumphant as if he had just made the best deal of his life.
“This was not agreed upon, John,” she went on, but then he took her by the arm and
in front of the camera’s.
He lowered his voice. ‘Bellum can’t make it right now; he’s still acting before the
mirror to prepare his maiden speech.”
Then he raised his voice to a volume loud enough to be heard and talked to the
cameras.
“Doctor Elisabeth McIntosh, representing Two Dome, has been invited by the
President of the United States at his inauguration speech. If you follow me, please.”
She was so perplexed that she could not free herself from his firm grip and before
she knew, Kovinsky had carried her to the train. She was sitting opposite at a circular
table in a luxurious private wagon, and now coming to her senses again, she realized he
had put her on the spot.
The train smoothly drove in reverse, floating on its magnetic rails. Kovinsky
changed his tone to a more intimate level.
“Elisabeth, don’t be angry. I know we have to talk out a lot. I really hope we can
settle our personal misunderstandings and preferably, before we get to the meeting. We
cannot cause another riot over some trivial issues, I’ve got troubles enough already. I
want to know, once and for all, if we are friends again.”
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That was a lot of machine fire talking on his side and she was aware that his
bipolarity was actively working. He was acting manically, shifting constantly in his seat
and waving frantically his hands. She tried to calm him down.
“I won’t be the party-pooper if it’s that what you mean, John. What do we have to
talk about? Is there something you want to share with me?”
She had spoken scoffing at him, but he did not lose his stance.
“Believe me or not, Elisabeth. I don’t know anymore where I stand lately. I don’t
know what Bellum’s going to declare. I want you to be there, listening to his real
intentions, and I want you to tell me what I need to know.”
She gazed at him in wonder. Kovinsky seemed to have changed at the sight of it.
Here, in this confined space, while riding in a first class train on air, she saw his
personality crumble to its naked proportions, and it made her tentative. This was not the
victorious John Kovinsky talking; this was the man who was showing her his true
colors.
“If you’re in doubt, I suggest we first hear what Bellum has to say, John. We then
will make up our minds, or better still, you make up your mind. Mine won’t change,
you know that.”
“I agree, Elisabeth. We will weigh the pros and the cons. It wouldn’t surprise me if
you’d have the last word.”
He spoke enigmatically, having recovered his bearing again.
The train enhanced its speed and the computerized voice told them they were
bridging the distance in less then a quarter. It was high time she fired off.
“John, have you ordered Lyndon to kill Margaret Rinsford?” She had phrased her
question with the fixed video recording in mind.
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Her sudden move put him off. He gazed at her askew. “I’ve never given that order,
Elisabeth, you should know that. I’m not a beast if it’s that what you believe. It was a
personal reckoning, that’s all I can say.”
“So, why did you tell everyone we had blown up the satcom while it was not?”
“That was just provocation, Elisabeth. That’s part of the game. I didn’t mean to harm
anyone; you and your people are too valuable to us. You are the pioneers and we owe
you a lot. You’ll be guiding us through our difficult periods. We don’t want another
One Dome incident, if you catch my drift.”
He was aware she was sitting on bananas. Then, he decided to tell her the full story.
“You know about their daughter’s death, don’t you? But do you know the
background of what really happened, Elisabeth?”
“I don’t, John. Please, tell me there isn’t more I need to hear.”
“I’m afraid there is, Elisabeth. Now bear with me. They were all enlisted, Barry,
Rinsford and Sue, their daughter. It was the time of the third world hostilities back then.
What happened is that Rinsford ordered Sue, who was a second lieutenant in her
regiment at the time, to go into a Sudanese reinforced minefield. Sue was killed almost
instantly and when Lyndon learned what happened, he was out of his mind, accusing
her of having murdered their daughter. He put her before court martial, but of course, it
was all in the line of duty and they dropped the case. Then he broke up with her, left the
force to join us. Rinsford got a mental breakdown and raised hell, but she was
demobilized, you know how the army works. I assume he never got over it and when he
heard Margaret was in the station, he saw it as his chance to get even, but mind you,
that’s only my assumption, for what it’s worth. I confess, I’ve made a tactical mistake
here, but that’s come too late in the day.”
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It was a shocking story, but somehow, Kovinsky sounded trustworthy and Elisabeth
was willing to accept. She suddenly had a flash. Maybe Kovinsky was just another
pawn in the hands of powers behind the scenes.
“John, have you ever considered you might be part of a big puppet show and you are
just one of the puppets on a string?”
“I rather see myself as the puppeteer, Elisabeth.”
She did not go on, knowing in his state of mind. Such a revelation would not take
form, not at this stage anyway, but she hoped it would make him rethink.
The train slackened down at the sight of the reception area and then they were in One
Dome. Before they came to a halt, Kovinsky showed her something that looked like a
tiny hearing device. He asked her to put it in her ear. He did not explain but she did it
any way.
They stepped out and to her surprise, the surface seemed to pull her down and she
had trouble adjusting herself.
“Magnetic fields,” Kovinsky clarified, grinning. “We haven’t been sitting on our
asses, if you forgive me saying so. No one coming from Earth will have to adapt
himself to Martian gravitation anymore. It’s like Earth.”
Earth… That was not what Elisabeth wanted to hear. How would they possibly live
together that way? By hopping from one gravity to another?
They had turned part of the reception area into a replica of the White House press
room. Weighty looking people took in folding chairs. Some of them Elisabeth still
recognized. Attendants guided her to the first row where she sat opposite the platform.
When Bellum came in, he first drew the attention towards her and suddenly she was
in the spotlight, the star of the evening show. She had to endure a standing up ovation.
The cameras clicked and taped, and then, Bellum started his pep talk. She took a
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stealthy look at her row to find Kovinsky, but he was not around and she tried to
concentrate on the speech that seemed to linger on and on.
She asked herself why they still wanted to worship this man in front of her, who had
fled his country and the planet, just to continue where he had left. This was not going
the right way, she said to herself.
Then she forced herself to pay attention. It took her a while before she heard Bellum
was using the words of the Book of Revelations to his speech. He talked about the
seven angels and their seven trumpets. He sounded like a whipped up fanatic.
In spite of herself, she drew herself to his speech and remembered what Kovinsky
had told her. She concentrated on the words.
“The first angel sounded, and there followed hail and fire mingled with blood, and
they were cast upon Earth: and the third part of trees was burnt up, and all green grass
was burnt up.
And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain burning with fire
was cast into the sea: and the third part of the sea became blood; and the third part of
the creatures which were in the sea, and had life, died; and the third part of the ships
were destroyed.
And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it
were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of
waters;
And the fourth angel sounded, and the third part of the sun was smitten, and the third
part of the moon, and the third part of the stars; so as the third part of them was
darkened, and the day shone not for a third part of it, and the night likewise.”
She could not believe what she was hearing. Bellum was talking in biblical sentences
about her community. He was explained how he was going to rule it on his own terms.
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This was not an enlightened man, leading this new world with the true spiritual
leadership of the Forefathers; this was a religious extremist, who would bring Mars
down just as he had done wittingly with Earth.
The third part of everything… was he referring to those who escaped their tragic fate
with the second expedition?
Now she had her proof what Kovinsky in his blind drift for power had never seen.
Now she knew what was hanging over their head. It was Bellum all the time, who had
been behind it all. He had manipulated everything in order to take over the dome and
use the people to his own purpose. They would become his slaves; they would have to
die for the sake of his own life.
Her mind drifted to Jack Armstrong. Armstrong was something in eugenics. No, that
could not be a coincidence. He had been part of that big scheme. It would have been his
job to lead the insemination operation, there was no doubt about that. He hadn’t dared
to reveal that to her and he had just wagged his finger accusatory at Kovinsky for all
that went wrong.
She sat frozen in her chair while the truth overwhelmed her. Compared to Bellum,
Kovinsky was just small fish, ignorant bait thrown on Mars. Kovinsky was really a
puppet, a blind and misguided dummy.
She had to warn him; she had to bring it to his mind that everything was going the
wrong direction, but where was he? Then all of a sudden, a tiny voice crackled in her
ear. She startled for a second but kept her stance. John was talking to her through the
hearing device.
“Elisabeth, are you hearing what he’s telling us? Just wink your eyes, do not nod or
shake your head. I’m watching you on a screen.”
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She winked. “Thanks Elisabeth. Now if you trust me, we should make it snappy
before things get out of hand, wink again.”
She winked again. “Great. Okay, Elisabeth, join me in the train, first box as soon as
he has done talking. Trust me; I’m on your site.”
She winked one more time. She would not believe it, but John had just told her he
was with her, that he had trespassed the safe zone and joined her in forbidden land.
The celebration that Kovinsky had referred to was held in the auditorium, but
Elisabeth managed to leave unseen, and return to the reception hall, where the train was
still waiting. Kovinsky was sitting in the box, waiting for her, nibbling on nicotine
sweets. She came straight to the point while she sank in one of the posh seats.
“So, John, tell me, what do you make of his speech? Can you live with a man like
that?”
He dredged up a smile. “You don’t appreciate the fruits of the loom anymore.”
“No, John, and I’ll never will again. I’m done with Earth, but tell me in all honesty,
why are you so suddenly swapping sides? Is that a new plot of yours? ”
He looked serious and with a grave voice, he replied he had to admit that her words
about him being a puppet-on-a-string had made him think it over. Listening to Bellum’s
prophecies, he too had seen what it was coming to.
“And Jack was right,” he wrapped up. “I should have listened to him.”
He did not sound repentant and she had to be careful not to blow their precious
coming to terms relationship. “Okay then, I’d like to hear your plan.”
“We don’t need an extremist on Mars and I’m afraid we don’t seem to be able to live
together as well. So, I agree with you we both have our own little kingdom, you in Two
Dome and we in One Dome, happily living apart together, how about it?”
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“That’s what I’ve wanted to hear from you, John, but it didn’t get into that thick head
of yours. You first had to show muscle.”
“I know, Elisabeth and I apologize; I’ve done a lot of damage, but that won’t happen
anymore. It’s peace pipe from now on.”
“That’s good to hear, John.”
“Further more, I have my attorneys commissioned to draw a constitution for Two
Dome. That way you will have the status of a nation, which means you will have
sovereign immunity. Even I won’t be able to harass you. The United Nations will have
to recognize you as a new country and you will be the first political leader on Mars.
How does that sound, Madam President?”
“I don’t want to be a stateswoman, John. I just want to be left alone and mind my
own business.”
“I know, Elisabeth, but it’s to your community’s advantage. Bear in mind that there
is still an army waiting to take its chance, and you don’t want that on your back again.
In fact, you might establish your own army for all I know. That’s your prerogative. In
addition, we will bargain over goods and services as equals, not as enemies. I’ve quit
my presumptions being a Roman emperor.”
She inadvertently had to smile. He was so convincingly working on her, that she
almost forgot his malfunction was in full gear again.
He leaned over to her and she felt his body heat. “Elisabeth, would you not
reconsider our relationship in other terms? We should not be enemies, but not too
intimate either. Something in between and maybe, and in time, we might grow closer.”
“Are you hitting on me, John?” she asked him teasingly, and he did not show it
otherwise. His lips stroke hers and she responded his kiss, and a heavy weight fell off
her shoulders. Maybe it would turn out all right in the end.
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31.
She came to a decision. It would be a determined decision with a lot of unpredicted
consequences.
“John, I want you to come with me to our home. I want you to see how we are doing
and why we are not going to give in and turn to earthlings again. I want you to see for
yourself.”
“That would be fine, Elisabeth. I appreciate that. Let’s move on then, Bellum can
wait.”
He pushed a button on a panel and spoke some instructions to the automated driver
and the train moved backward again.
She felt impressed by the way he handled things. Just a word from him and everyone
rolled up their sleeves. That’s where the real power was.
“Promise me one thing, John, that you are really on my side, and that this is not one
of your red herrings.”
He sent her an assuring glance, but she knew it could mean everything; she had to
remind herself that this man had a mental disorder. It could be a good thing and it could
be a bad thing. It was just a question which crossroad to take.
At the halfway section, the trains slowed down, allowing the workers to step aside.
They were still fixing the hole into the tunnel. Then the train continued its trip until they
stopped about ten meters from the decompression chamber.
Elisabeth immediately guided Kovinsky to the recreation area, where several people
were sitting in a circle and Linda was singing one of her compositions. It was an
enchanting sight and Kovinsky looked like he was gleefully surprised. Okra flowers
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dressed up the hallway with a festive yellow touch. The hibiscus, otherwise known as
‘gumbo’ also helped them with proteins and vitamins and skin moisturizing, as
Elisabeth explained.
Then she led him to the Pond, which of course was their pride and joy. About half of
the population continuously spent time at the Pond, spontaneously drawn to it, like fish
to water. It was their holy ground; it not only produced food and drink, but heating and
oxygen as well. Elisabeth told Kovinsky they did not care about timetables. People
simply volunteered to do the plucking and cooking and everything ran smoothly, which
to Kovinsky was something of a blasphemy to his business organization models.
He put a question forward while they headed for their next destination. “Let’s
suppose the reactor has a malfunction anymore, Elisabeth, who’re you going to call?”
“We do nothing, John. We’ve agreed, all of us, that if the dome cannot operate
anymore, we would accept the consequences.”
“You would be willing to die in other words.”
“Do you see an alternative?”
“No, I don’t, if you wouldn’t want to ask for our outside help.”
“Anyway, the reactor will never shut down, will it? It’s meant to work for a thousand
years without survey or maintenance. That was the whole assumption.”
“It was just a hypothetic question, Elisabeth, and you gave me the answer.”
“We just make advantage of it, like every new civilization does. You know
successful civilizations thrive on the old ones, which they had wiped out or made
obsolete. They remain tributary to what they have destroyed though they rarely will
admit it openly. We all know we have a lot to thank to whom have made all this
possible, but we go on, creating a new kind of society and if this one is successful, then
we won’t feel tributary to the old one anymore.”
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“Frankly, Elisabeth, I can’t accept your nice theory. Your community has nothing to
offer but itself. Will you save Earth from its destruction? No. Will you bring them a
message of hope, of happiness? I don’t think so. Your goal is here. Your force lies in
isolation, protecting yourself from the evils outside, creating sterile surroundings with
no future or purpose whatsoever. It’s doomed to linger on forever, or fall apart.”
“Your eyes don’t see what they should see, John. And I fear you’ll never accept that
it can live without Earth’s help.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Elisabeth. You’re an earthling, not a Martian.”
“Let me give you an example, John. Lyndon almost put an end to Jesus’ life for the
simple reason he had a gun.”
“And?”
“If he hadn’t a gun, he wouldn’t have done it.”
“Are you going to lecture me on arms control?”
“I just want to point out that Jesus would still be in good health, doing what he’s
good at, if Lyndon didn’t have that gun.”
“I see what you mean. There shouldn’t be a gun in the community in the first place.”
“That’s right. It caused a reaction in a Hegelian sort of way. We can take care that
such circumstances will never prevail, so that we don’t have to be afraid of the
consequences.”
Next came the meditation center, which was one of the two unused restaurants. It
had been set up as a holistic health center and a session was now in progress. They
watched the scene from behind the glass door. Some pregnant women were sitting in
circles. They wore twined flower strings on their heads and they sat deeply in
concentration.
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“We’re showing much success with holism,” Elisabeth explained. “It takes care of
most aspects of our wellbeing. Our forthcoming mothers prepare here for the births. In
another room we give haptonomic courses for the ones with affection disorders, which
I’m fortunate to say there are few.”
Kovinsky seemed to have some doubts about the unorthodox healing methods. He
was so used to the medical industry blessings and their rational attitude towards matters
of healthiness, that he found it hard to believe they would be able to tackle every
problem, but he was wise to skip it.
“Have you given some thought on the next generation yet?”
“Seven of our women are pregnant as we speak. It’s been going slow, but now it’s
picking up. We’re heading to a real society now.”
“That’s good news, Elisabeth. I suspect you know what to do if all these women are
in labor at the same time.”
“Not less then in maternities on Earth, John, and we don’t need social security or
ID’s around here. Everyone’s welcome in our free clinic.”
“Though one consideration, I have a strong impression people here are a bit playful
in a sort of childish way. Their own kids will grow up ignorant; they’ll never grow into
adults as we know on Earth.”
“Just as it is, John, they won’t be like adults on Earth. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“In my opinion they won’t be able to face and stand up trouble whatsoever. They
will break down at the first crisis they meet. And they’ll never learn how to fight the
enemy.”
“What enemy? There are no enemies here, John. We listen, we help, and we care.
Here you will not find selfishness; you will find selflessness, no hatred but love. People
live for the community, and the community lives for the people.”
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A toy hummingbird landed on Kovinsky’s shoulder. He wiped it inconsiderably off.
It kept zooming for a while over his head and then flew away. It had no use to him
anymore.
“I won’t argue with that, Elisabeth, maybe we’re just getting too old, too much
earthbound to see what’s going on. Maybe it will be their kids who know the solution to
everything.”
“You’re right, John. Of course, we cannot be Martians. I’ve never accepted we
would, but we want to offer these Martian kids a cause to live and at the same way learn
from them.”
“With God’s help, I presume.”
He meant it in a mockery way, but she took it serious.
“You see, John, your president is convinced he does the work of God, whatever
that means. He’s evidently self-assured that he knows what God really wants and
how He works. You cannot know God’s laws; you are only presumptuous that you
can in your infinite human wisdom. Try to overcome that, John, humans are not fit to
play God. I am not saying that Darwin was right either. Not every life form responds
to his theory. We have to admit that we just don’t fundamentally understand
everything.”
“I agree with you, Elisabeth. But that is not the point. The point is that some
species are favorites to God. Call it natural selection or lucky strikes, I don’t care.
And –“
She cut him short, knowing he would go on, trying to convince himself of what he
was doing right.
“There is no such thing as natural selection of the human race, John. We’re the same
as we were a hundred thousand years ago; we fight our planet for domination, instead of
trying to find out what it wants to tell us. We try to shape nature to our own mindscape.
We think we know what we are doing, but we break up the Earth and then we flee to
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another hideaway and do it all over again. That’s what I’m combating against, John. I
don’t want your world to come into mine. Leave us, if you can’t cope. We’ll do alright
without you.”
She had spitted out her words, knowing she sounded like Jesus Mendez, but she
meant every one of, and Kovinsky looked like he was impressed.
Adjoining was the fitness room. It had no proper fitness appliances; people just
moved their bodies in ways that Kovinsky reminded of tai chi chuan.
“As you see, John, Martian gravity doesn’t allow us to do all kind of sports, but these
exercises rightly satisfy our needs.”
“I’ve not seen anyone watching TV. Does that mean you’ve renounced the values of
modern civilization?”
“As a matter of fact, we don’t feel the need to watch TV or play video games
anymore, John. Besides, after you had shut off all communications, we became aware
we were still acting as an appendix to Earth if we’d go on using them.”
“So, I’ve helped you on your way to your cloistered life,” Kovinsky said in a wry
voice.
“Still, we have a lot of creative people, musicians, writers, narrators, graphic
designers and many more. We don’t need tech stuff to fill our time. We even have our
own theatrical company.”
“And nobody’s getting paid for it.”
Elisabeth threw a sharp look at him. “We don’t want money, John. Money hardens
the soul. It makes people selfish. It divides families, people, and countries. Maybe in
your so called civilization it has an advantage or two, I won’t deny that, but here
nobody cares.”
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I don’t even want that insurance money anymore, even if I would return, she thought.
She had gone a long way since that first meeting in the White House.
They continued the tour, now arriving at the kitchen where people were preparing
their lunches. Everyone was working in a light mood, no tense hell’s kitchen with cooks
working their asses off.
“It strikes me I don’t smell much of cookery,” Kovinsky said while they passed the
numerous microwaves and steam cookers.
“That’s because we don’t use animal fats, John. Every part of the food process is
natural and under strict surveillance.”
“You’re sure you’re not Jewish or Muslim?” Kovinsky seemed to find it a great joke.
“We just want to stay healthy. Let’s have a bite, and taste it yourself.”
Already fifty people were preparing their lunch. Elisabeth and John joined the food
queue to fill their plate.
They sat at in a corner at the long table and Kovinsky ran his eyes over the plate’s
content.
“Not much of variety in my opinion, I mean fish and veggies, don’t you get any
complaints?”
“Not at all, John. Our fish-breeding pond provides us with good fish. We have
mollusk, clams, trout, salmon, haddock, and tuna. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.
Don’t act like you’ve never eaten healthy in your life before.”
He grinned. “Apologize if I act simple-minded, Elisabeth, but truly, I’m
flabbergasted. It’s not easy for me, being a control freak, having to admit there are other
ways to manage things. You really shake me up.”
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Sharon had produced a wine, amber colored and tasting of mothballs, but it had a
good feeling after a couple of gulps. She had called it ‘Martian butterscotch’, as a
reference to the color of a daily Martian sky.
Kovinsky ate it all and seemed to enjoy it. He did not talk much, too much absorbed
with private thoughts. Elisabeth would really want to know what he was brooding over.
After lunch, they put the dishes into the dishwasher and watched the machine do its
work, looking like a married couple in their new kitchen.
Later on, they ended up at her place. She made tisane tea. Sharon had added some
cannabis extract to it, just adequate to get a good feeling.
They sipped and the beverage seemed to loosen up John.
“I must admit I’m very impressed, Elisabeth. You have built up a fantastic place
here. It reminds me of the Venice condo I was living in at a time. Everything’s so
spotless, I don’t understand.”
“We don’t need full time cleaners here; everyone cleans up his own mess. We do not
want to create social classes. It’s just about social reflexes, John.”
“Elisabeth, I think I’ve seen enough, and to be honest, you’ve convinced me and I’m
thinking to establish a Martin nation the way you do. Mars might grow into a new Eden.
Maybe Mars is meant to be our real destination.”
Elisabeth recalled how she had felt that sensation too, a long time ago. It had been
the threshold, her crossing over, and afterwards she had never regretted her decision to
exchange Earth for Mars.
But before she could go into that, Howard and Andrea entered the room. They both
had a laser gun in their hands, Howard aiming at Kovinsky’s forehead and Andrea
aiming at his belly.
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Just now Elisabeth remembered they had sworn an oath to get rid of Kovinsky and it
was still valid. She sat frozen, staring at both agents.
Kovinsky did not seem to be surprised as if it was something he had been expecting.
He turned to her with a wry smile.
“Action causes reaction, Elisabeth. Is this your synthesis?”
Elisabeth stared at him. “I – I didn’t know, John.”
Then she turned to the agents. “You don’t have to do that anymore, he’s with us
now. Forget the past, both of you, no killing here or ever.” Her voice had gained a
resolute tone, but it made no impression on the agents.
Kovinsky came to her help.
“You don’t have to kill me, people. I’m just the repairman, the second mate on the
ship. The one who set all this up is our beloved President. It’s him you want.”
Howard was not impressed, looking grim and determined. Andrea seemed not to
notice she was keeping the gun to Howard’s back instead of Kovinsky. She looked
washed out.
Elisabeth came to their help. “He’s right, Andrea, Howard. Bellum has bamboozled
us, you and me and John.”
“I know how you can pull it off,” Kovinsky added.
“How?” Howard asked, lowering his gun.
“The day after tomorrow. That’s the right time to strike.”
Now he had their attention.
Andrea put her gun away too. “And what’s in for us? I mean, he’s your crisis, not
ours. We don’t need to be lined up as the ones who killed the President.”
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“No more presidents or whatever,” Kovinsky firmly said. “This colony – this
community will deal with itself; it will go on doing what it’s meant to do, and no
busybody will stick his nose in from now on. I’ll be your lifetime guarantee.”
Then Howard said, “I don’t know what you’re up to, Kovinsky, but we’ll be your
shadow from now one; and if you don’t keep your promises, you’ll pay for it with your
own life. Don’t misjudge us; we’re not one of your moron agents.”
‘Trust me. If you are wondering if I’m cheating, let me tell you a story first. It’s a
most interesting story about our dearly loved president and his entourage.”
“Let’s have a cup of tea first,” Elisabeth hastily proposed and they agreed. She made
it strong, hoping the cannabis would keep the tempers down.
The tea did not miss its effect; they eased up and were ready to go along with
Kovinsky’s tale.
“As you know our beloved President had won his elections with the help of his
sponsoring friends, the so called Big Five. They have manipulated the outcomes at
every re-election and lobbied up to heaven to have Bellum’s presidency to last forever.
They passed a bill to do that. They control the media and keep the population restrained
and living in fear. They consider warfare as another way of doing business. And finally
they want Mars because it has got out of their hands.”
“God has willed it,” Howard muttered.
Kovinsky did not pay heed to Howard’s spiritual outburst, enjoying too much the
attention he got.
“But they can’t buy Mars; they can’t control Mars, so they put their smart heads
together to come up with an ingenious plan. After the One Dome debacles, we decided
our Martian dreams were over, but they knew what was happening with Earth; they had
been the cause of it after all, and so they took primarily precautions. They knew that,
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some day, they would have to emigrate to the stars. However, Mars was the only option
available in our planetary system, and so they decided to try it once more and this time
they did not take risks. They leased Base Camp and One Dome from ISA and began to
build Two Dome without considering involving The United Nations’ right of veto. The
operation had cost them angry shareholders and bankruptcies. At the end, nonetheless,
they got full possession of both domes without having priers and without either
Congress or ISA’s approval.”
He squinted to his audience, who sat with their cups in hand, fascinated by his tale.
Kovinsky grinned at their pose, and drank up his tea before going on.
“Then, ISA, who had invested heavily in One Dome, and feeling strongly rejected,
found out what happened behind their back. They submitted a complaint, claiming they
wanted a refund on their gone capital, but Bellum – alias the Big Five and the military –
refused to do so, thereby putting ISA out of space business. They claimed Mars for
themselves and got the whole bunch, the monopoly over Mars, the Wheels, the satellites
and a lot more rocks, all in preparation of their migration.”
“ISA sent Howard and Andrea because they wanted retaliation for their lost
possessions,” Elisabeth stated and Kovinsky shrugged.
“I expected something like that from ISA, but I didn’t know you wanted my skin.
The wrong skin, I may add. It seems to me they’ve tricked you to. It’s the other fellows
you’ve got to go after, but you won’t get them of course, nobody will.”
“They’ve made you their fall guy and Andrea and Howard their gophers,” Elisabeth
added. Kovinsky looked at everyone in turn, his eyes expressing sorrowfulness.
“Now I realize they did, Elisabeth. The only option is to get rid of Bellum.”
“Nobody’s going to kill the President,” Howard said in a calm voice. “Not even ISA,
you can take my word for it.”
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“No, bad publicity and political incorrectness of course. It was safer to use two of
their whipping boys – forgive me the expression - to kill the whipping boy from the
other camp, and then start a war if necessary to repossess what they had lost. They still
have the power to do so. And a lot of big cheeses who’d missed the boat were eager to
get their own five stars condos on Mars as well.”
“It’s over then,” Andrea said softly. Howard did not react, seemed to have second
thoughts.
Kovinsky breathed more freely now. He accepted another cup of tea and drank
greedily.
“What now?” Elisabeth asked.
“I’ll take dare of the situation,” Kovinsky said and a certain tone in his voice drew
her attention.
“What are you going to do, John? Nothing foolish, I hope.”
“Not at all, Elisabeth. As a matter of fact, it’ll be the only time I’ll use my rightful
mind.”
Again, she felt a growing concern because he spoke in riddles, and it did not promise
any good. Kovinsky had won his life and both agents had accepted the deal was off, and
that should be the be-all and the end-all.
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Howard said, while standing up. “We leave it up to you,
Elisabeth. He’s of no concern to us anymore and we are not going to stick our necks out
for him. Do whatever is best for all, Kovinsky, but don’t forget that you are still our
Number One enemy.”
After the ISA agents had left, Kovinsky flung his arm around Elisabeth’s shoulders
and tried to give her a kiss in his tea glow. She instinctively avoided his attempt to
atonement.
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“John, tell me please what you’re up to. I don’t feel confident about anything now.”
He came to his senses again and had that collected look over him she knew so well.
“It’s just a little idea of mine, Elisabeth, you know I’m good at it and it won’t affect
your little family, not in a harmful way anyway.”
“I feel uneasy about what you’re planning to do, John. Tell me you won’t be hurt in
any which way. You have a future here, and if we can come to terms, with me at your
side. The community will accept you once they know who you are.”
He grinned. The picture of people loving him seemed too far fetched, and Elisabeth
was not sure either if they really would accept him. He would always be the odd man
out. On the other hand, he had spoken of her family, which she had never seen it that
way, but he had hit the nail on the head. It was her family now. It had become more
than just a society.
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32.
Elisabeth waited for Bellum’s arrival. Kovinsky would be at his side on the train
with a bunch of Big Five executives. Elisabeth had learned that the First Lady was still
on Earth, as well as the vice-President, and they all were convinced now that Bellum
had chickened out and left the others to save the sinking ship. They all disagreed to
have him come, but Elisabeth pulled it off that it was for their own good.
Kovinsky suggested she would wear the headset he had given her at the presidential
speech, to keep in touch with him during the ride. She and the leaders were standing by
at the airlock, which the workers had added to the shaft’s gate. They silently watched
the train approaching, its headlights shining on the silvery metal shaft walls.
Suddenly Kovinsky was in her ear, loud and clear, only some hundred meters away
from them. He called her name out. His voice sounded agitated.
“Elisabeth, shut the airlock, now. No one’s coming in, do you understand?”
“Why, John? What’s going on?”
“Never mind that. Just trust me. Do not leave that gate open and have it shut at least
for the next six months. It’s the only way to preserve the dome. Close that airlock,
now.”
Reluctantly, she ordered one of the people to push the button and the airlock closed
with a loud hiss, up to the moment the train passed the halfway section.
“John, I want to know what you’re going to do, please tell me.”
“I’m not letting the President and his jesters destroy your work, Elisabeth.”
“What do you mean, John? Is this a trick?”
“No tricks, Elisabeth. Just keep that goddamn gate closed at all times or forever if
you can.”
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“John, don’t do whatever you’re about to do.”
“It’s something I’ve got to do, Elisabeth. It’s no big deal, I am not the hero type, but
I still hope it will not be in vain. Name one of your smaller rooms after John Kovinsky,
I’d be obliged if something’s left of me on Mars.”
“John…You scare the hell out of me”
“Farewell, Elisabeth. If God exists, I’ll give you a sign, and if not, well, my life isn’t
all fucked up, knowing in a small way I will have contributed to your community.”
“Hold it, let’s talk, John, don’t be stupid.”
“It’s the one and only thing that’s not foolish, Elisabeth. See you in a better life,
maybe.”
Suddenly, a pitched crack echoed across the shaft followed by far away rumble that
passed by under her feet as the result of the explosion Kovinsky had triggered on the
train.
She ripped the headset off. Just now, she realized the horrible truth. John had
sacrificed himself for their sake. He had done the only thing his labile mind was capable
of doing.
“You goddamn idiot, John, why did you do that for?” she cried out. Her friends
carried her back to her room. They made her a cup of hoasca tea.
“Leave us alone, please,” Howard said in a peremptory tone and they left. Andrea
stood wavering at the door, but at Howard’s imperative look, she decided to join the
others.
He closed the door behind her and joined Elisabeth, who still stunned, sat sipping her
tea. Seeing she was coming to her senses again, he leaned towards her and lowered his
voice.
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“Elisabeth, I guess it’s as good as any time now to come up with some answers. I
know you’re still upset by what just happened, but if you’re willing to listen to what
I’ve got to say, everything will become clear.”
She wiped off a tear. “I’m okay, Howard. Go ahead then, a truth might be a nice
change right now.”
“That’s what I’m going to tell you, Elisabeth, the truth. You better sit back and let
me fill you in. First, do you know what Bellum means?”
Bellum? The President’s surname? She hadn’t a clue.
“It’s derived from a Sumerian word that means Lord.”
“So?”
“Bellum was head of the ROOTS society.”
Elisabeth began to feel annoyed again. Why where they always speaking to her in
spy code?
“You don’t know ROOTS of course, as it is the closest guarded secret on Earth.”
At the sight of her unintelligible look, he patted her on the hand. “I reckon I’ll need
to lecture you on history first, Elisabeth. Let us start with the beginning. We know that
the roots of human civilization as we know are located in Sumer, which nowadays is
better known as Iraq.”
He presented Elisabeth a new cup, which she declined and he poured himself in.
Then he continued.
“You are certainly familiar with Sumer, Mesopotamia, Land of Two Rivers,
Babylon, Iraq, all different names referring to the same cradle of western civilization.”
She interrupted him a bit grumpy, clearly becoming herself again. “Cut the
introduction, Howard. Are you talking of some secret fellowship, like the Freemasons
or UFO believers?”
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“They all have something to do with it. ROOTS is the oldest one. It’s the heritage of
our mankind; it’s the answer to what we are and where we’re heading to. It was ROOTS
that organized the invasion of Iraq, not for the sake of oil, but to preserve its
inheritance, because it was going to be destroyed by the fanatics’ movements.”
“And what have you to do with it?”
“Bellum, I, and Jack Armstrong were members of it. Kovinsky wasn’t and that broke
him up. He wanted to be an angel but he turned a devil instead.”
Pieces fell slowly into place. She could see Kovinsky now in better daylight. He was
a lost soul knocking at heaven’s door, trying to get in, but thrown back, and finally
starting to hate the chosen ones and looking for revenge. She remembered what the
Bible said about the fallen angel, about Lucifer who had defied his god.
“Why do you say you were members?”
“I say ‘were’ because our task is over. ROOTS has no mission anymore.”
“So, you were basically part of some old boys club, for insiders only. I know your
kind: Holy Grail and Templars and Druids and what have you more.”
“They all come from the same source, Elisabeth, the same roots.”
“And all of them are dreaming of dominance and all of them love conspiracies, well,
I can tell you, Howard, I’m fed up with your kind. I don’t want to hear more of that
boloney.”
“It’s not what you think, Elisabeth. I can appreciate your point of view though. Let
me just give you a clue. Phobos.”
Her heart missed a beat. Phobos meant Albert, but then she remembered the
nightmare was over.
“What about Phobos?”
“You remember that Albert discovered a door leading to the underground?”
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“I do. And Albert told me it involves the military.”
“Albert could not lay his finger on it. Phobos is not an army base. It’s a sperm bank.”
“Sperm bank? You mean, for Bellum’s harem? Has he put it there?”
Howard looked imperturbable. “Phobos is a DNA storage facility. It’s basically a
frost-free freezer composed from the best of the best.”
“The best of the best? What do you mean by that?”
“About thirty-five years ago, the U.S.A. started a program called ‘Preservation’. Its
purpose was to insure that the best of the nation – and the ones that worked together –
would be preserved in the future, as the floods of third world people were threatening
the western civilization. In short: they wanted to keep their best sperm separated from
the rest of the world. So, they collected whatever they could lay their hands on, and
eventually, when it became clear that the global economical situation was growing out
of control, NASA, by DARPA orders, sent a hush-hush mission to Phobos to build a
sperm bank and that’s about it.”
She was shocked to hear that. This was pure racism, in its most profound denotative
bearing. It reminded her of the first sperm banks, some hundred years ago, that were
initially set up for Nobel Price winners. It did not produce the expected results, as most
price winners were too old, and even with the lower criteria there was no guarantee that
the offspring would be highly intelligent and suitable to a greater cause in life. Genius
was not a matter of continuation.
Sperm banks had developed since more efficiently and became widely spread. There
was a setback though: most women refused to shop at the banks; they wanted the
natural way as God had intended to. This was an unexpected state of affairs that the
eugenics specialists had not foreseen.
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Howard seemed to read her mind. “I know it sounds bizarre, but reality has its own
morals, you know that.”
“Comes as it may, we’ll take care to keep it away from here,” Elisabeth firmly said.
Howard smiled; he had expected her reaction. “Don’t worry; it’s meant for the other
Dome. Bellum and his vassals want to preserve their panspermania beliefs for the
future, and with their focused minds, they couldn’t come up with something better.”
“Or something that made sense,” she added. Well, that was not of her concern
anyway.
“Believe it or not, but that’s how it is, Elisabeth. It’s a scientific fact that the western
gene pool is diluting, and we can really use fresh DNA. The program started on Earth
by way of experiment eventually leading to the creation of ROOTS.”
“Are you one of the chosen?” she put in rather ironically, but he took it seriously.
“I am, and Andrea’s too, and Bellum and the younger tycoons as well.”
“Was Jack part of the experiments?”
Howard looked embarrassed. “He was one of the first, but it did not work out as
intended, Elisabeth. I’m afraid to say that in Jack’s case, the genetic influx must have
failed.”
“If I understand you correctly, Jack had to die because of some lunatic who wanted
to create Superman all over again.”
“That was thirty-five years ago, Elisabeth. Don’t blame it on me.”
“Your explanation is as good as any, Howard, but to me it sounds like Nazi horror
tales, you know, racial supremacy, masters dominating slaves.”
“Just think about it, Elisabeth. Most people are living the lives of earthbound slaves,
yet they vaguely feel there must be something more, something of a divine nature,
something they call their ‘soul’. They know that because of their handed down myths
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and legends and the rituals we call religion. You see, religion is nothing more than
worshiping our teachers from the olden times.”
“Okay, I can buy that too. But what has it to do with our settlement?”
“You said it yourself, Elisabeth: you want them to become the first real Martians and
at the same time they must be better then humans on Earth, but your offspring will still
be human. So, Bellum decided to give it a boost to helping them on their long and hard
road to survive on Mars.”
“I suppose you agree with Bellum and his kind. I won’t blame you for that,
especially because you’re on our site. Tell me, why did it go wrong with John
Kovinsky?”
“It didn’t work with Kovinsky. His reproduction system failed. It must be something
like missing the boat to him. In his frustration, he would have destroyed everything that
was deer to him. We were aware of that, which is why they sent me here in the first
place. Kovinsky had become a risk. I couldn’t prevent him from blasting Bellum and
the Big Five ROOTS members, but we draw the line here and now.”
“ISA or ROOTS?”
“Both. ISA’s top is part of ROOTS.”
She was more likely to incline why Howard was so keen on getting rid of Kovinsky.
It was not about revenge, it was about not befitting to the old frat club.
“And why the secrecy, Howard? Why didn’t they just tell us the way it was?”
“It was never the right time, Elisabeth. Imagine what it would mean when we
brought it up, say at the next United Nations assembly. Hey, people, bear with me. It’s
time we pull all our cards on the table. We’re going to use our sperm bank kids to
conquer the world and while we’re busy, we’ll do the universe as well.”
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He had made a point. It would be devastating to all the global political and religious
institutional organizations and the impact on economy and social structures would be
incalculable. No, it was hard enough as it was.
Howard stood up. “By the way, we’re going back to Earth for our medical treatment,
but Andrea will return. She has decided to stay with you. I will report our story to my
superiors, who will use United Nations to enlighten the world what had happened. We
still have a lot of work to do before it all comes to an end.”
He held his hand out, then changed his mind and gave her a warm hug. Before she
could react properly, he had left.
She felt gloomy after he had gone, having lost another dear soul, but at the same
time, she was grateful to Howard, being aware that he had planted a seed, and that there
would come a time that everything would merge.
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Epilogue
And six months later, the gate was still locked and they were hermetically sealed off
from the outside, from Mars’s surface, from Earth, from space.
John Kovinsky got his room. They named Elisabeth’s former office after him and
Linda and Sharon turned it into a tranquil temple; incense sticks were constantly
burning and it soon became a center of spirituality.
Then the first Martians were born. They did not look like Hollywood Martians; they
did not look like chimeras or monsters from outer space. They had all the looks of
healthy babies, though smaller and under weight by Earth’s standards, but they were
strong and healthy.
Mike, who was the proud father of three of them, agreed to have one named after
Kovinsky, and John would become the first of the second generation of Martian
leadership.
One of the others, a girl, was Sharon’s. Elisabeth had become a grandmother and she
loved it to be the first granny on Mars. They called her grandchild Margaret.
Mike had started to write poems, and one of them would in due time launch the
Martian Chronicles, dedicated to Dan Pelsmaker.
I dreamed I was on Earth
Rain pissing down outside
I saw water drizzling down the window
I felt a soft breeze dry as a Sahara wind
Sitting under a palm tree
328 of 333
I saw snowflakes gently drifting
Down in the star twinkling night
And when I woke up
I was on Mars
I was home.
Albert had read the poem too, and though he was not in for poetry and actually found
it rubbish, it gave him food for an idea.
The former satcom room had been cleared from the sad remembrances and left
empty for months. Then, Albert took it in as his private utility area. He was working in
it constantly in the company of handy people who had sworn secrecy, up to the point
that his girl friend was asking questions about his absences. Then he came up with a big
surprise that would become the talk for many years to come.
At the settlement’s first anniversary – Martian equivalence to two Earth years - he
sent his workers back, sealed the area off and made a big announcement over the
intercom.
Next morning, all settlers assembled in the recreation room to watch the wide screen.
It at first was dark and empty, but then, suddenly tiny white spots began to show up,
and soon they were growing in size, multiplying by the hundreds and floating gently
down.
It was snowing on Mars. Albert had implemented Mike’s poem about the
snowflakes.
The magic trick was highly praised. After the show, Elisabeth asked Albert how he
had managed it.
“You see, Mom, the nuclear plant has been constructed right beneath the satcom.
Now, all I had to do was pumping up radioactive water and mix it with the soda pop.”
329 of 333
Soda pop? Then she remembered they had stored the party drink away after
Kovinsky had left, not knowing at first what to do with it.
Albert continued. “We found a way to transform it into snowflakes. Well, it isn't the
real stuff, but it has the look of it, don't you think? Our own Martian postcard snow
scenery.”
Elisabeth found it a great idea. If some of the settlers felt nostalgia about wintertime
on Earth, this might be a fitting substitute. And they finally got rid of the Big Five’s
leftovers.
But there was more. Radioactivity had been added to the Pond’s water as well. By
sheer accident, Lyndon’s bomb had damaged one of the filter pumps, which caused
unfiltered water to stream into the Pond. It contained radium emanation, also known as
radon gas.
“You didn’t tell anyone about the radioactivity,” Elisabeth asked in fearful surprise.
“No, I didn’t want to start a panic. Well, frankly, I did tell Sharon about it.”
“Oh…” She felt a twinge in the chest.
“Don’t look so frightened, Mom, it’s not dangerous. No alarm will go off. Sharon
told me something I had forgotten, that some small amount of radiation was good for
the soul – these were her exact words – and it has a healing effect on the body in many
ways.”
She had to admit their tight mother and son relationship had come to an end. Another
woman had taken over, but Elisabeth was glad it was Sharon.
“I see. Well, it might explain why we all look healthy and wise,” she said.
At night, when the lights dimmed and tranquility came over the community,
Elisabeth was lying in her berth, and she would listen to the peaceful silence and now
330 of 333
and then, she could hear far away subdued thuds, caused by incoming meteorites, and
she was overwhelmed with encapsulated feelings of pure joy.
Everything in her life had come together; her years of ups and downs had finally paid
off. Here, on Mars, it had become clear that this was her real destiny, the way God had
molded her to be. Maybe they would not become Martians, but in their mind, they were,
and that was what counted. It was not about the genes but the way you looked upon life
and yourself that made what you were.
After Kovinsky had blown up the train, incinerating the President and his hotshots
along the way, they never found trace of his body back. They assumed it had totally
vaporized, as the officials on the Wheel had stated, but they just had no proof he was
one of the victims.
“Come to think of it, there’s no evidence he was on the train either, Mom,” Albert
said, after having watched the news on the Wheels’ TV-channel he had linked onto the
satellite dish.
“What do you mean, Albert? I’ve spoken him to the last minute,” Elisabeth said in
wonder.
“I mean, he could have been transmitting from everywhere as far as I see it. Not
necessarily on the train, but somewhere else, where he was safe from the blast.”
That was an intriguing observation and it made her feel upset. They did not know if
Kovinsky was dead, missing or hiding somewhere. Maybe he was biding his time until
the storms had died out. She would not be surprised at all, knowing him.
Then a strange thing happened. Some settlers claimed they had seen a white shadow
in the shape of a man outside, hovering fast between the rocks and jumping over craters
and sometimes motionlessly staring into the outdoor camera eye. To others, they were
simply dust devils.
331 of 333
Those who believed were convinced something was watching over them as their
guardian angel. And the legend went that it was Kovinsky, asking them forgiveness for
his sins.
End.
332 of 333
Quote.
A sound society does not straitjacket its subjects. There is no meaning in people
living the same life as next door. A fertile society needs variations; otherwise, it will die
from frustration and dead-ends. Variations lead to new life forms and new life forms to
wealth and happiness. Freedom based on mutual aid and altruism is the best way to
discover successful variations. Only a free society can mold into a successful society.
(R. E. Geysen – The Promise).
333 of 333

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Darwin's Dogs Walter G Willaert

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to Ben and Eva

(A. Shukin, 2063 A.D.)

and fired his million dollar question away.

tell me what you think.”

and for all.”

more than him calling her ‘Liz.’

tie, looked up from it and smiled at her. “I apologize, Elisabeth.”

squarely. “I’m sorry, Mr. President, if I sounded rude.”

“That’s an understatement, Mr. President. My students will imagine all sorts of

things and I’ll have a hard time explaining...”

want to hear and that’s what we’ve told your dean.”

with his ascetic profile and sunken eyes.

dissertation about living on Mars. I believe it was entitled ‘Darwin on Mars’.”

was so important about it.

correctly, it did not end so well.

her morning break with the colleagues.

to hear objections of any sort.

“Jack here was deputy project manager on Mars then.”

tiny red spots.

about it; it was the time of the third world terrorism.

headlights shining heavy on her.

Armstrong and Kovinsky exchanged conspiring glances. Then, unexpectedly, the

again, I promise you. By the way, how’s your son Albert?”

tension fell off.

months since I’ve seen him.”

“So, what do you figure, Jack?”

“I guess we can go on, John. I mean, if Elisabeth agrees.”

middle-aged woman, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

you in the first place.”

was not sure what to make of that.

go over, we will have to understand certain divine essentials of human evolution. We

powers we must be aware of.”

remembered she was also pregnant at the time.

forever for what I’ve written at the time.”

you put Darwin in your paper.”

sake of his moral beliefs.”

we can’t have that twice.”

“Why is it so important to go to Mars again? I mean, what’s there that is still so

regained his posture.

forgotten about her.

hell then she had expected.

red rock again.

candidates in my field that will do.”

Armstrong straightened up.

stage in his career. He will be transferred to Phobos to do research on new energy

match his life insurance.”

was almost unbearable.

psychologist and you’ll be part of working for a better world.”

that little trophy wife back.

“Let me think it over,” she decided.

Both men shook their heads at the same time.

whatever,” she protested. “You can’t do that to me.”

every turn of the year.

and put the cup carefully down before she spoke.

settled and I want it to be put in black and white.”

get all the help you need.”

it. You’ll be dealing the cards from now on, congratulations.”

Let’s hope they won’t regret it, Elisabeth said to herself.

the staff had baptized ‘The Big Chill’.

of an underground Shangri La.

running out swiftly.

their purpose at the vendor machines in the operation room.

Darwin's Dogs Revised Edition

Darwin's Dogs Revised Edition