Chapter 21: Departure

Bradbury Canal, October 7, 2141
Departure

In their dressing room above the train station, Hilde grinned and laughed at her student. “You really stuck your foot into it this time, little chick.” Alan wasn’t amused. He suddenly realized that all these people were pinning their hopes and dreams on him. What happens when he can’t deliver, when he can’t protect Mars? He sat looking at his hands. They were trembling. “Did you figure out who sent the message to you through Noxie?”

“It had to be Lars,” said Alan softly. “He’s a comm specialist.”

Just then, Ray stepped into the room. “You’re not dressed yet?”

“I’m...” Alan shrugged and went back to staring at his shaking hands.

“The enormity of what he did just sank in,” said Hilde.

“What if I can’t deliver what I promised to everyone?” groaned Alan.

Ray stood behind the seated Alan and began massaging his shoulders. “All you promised was to protect Mars against unnamed enemies. You didn’t promise to lower taxes, give out free ice cream, or bring us enough water to fill a crater. You left that up to us, and that’s good. A citizen should have a stake in his planet’s future.”

“But they’re all counting on me,” said Alan.

“Hey, buddy,” Ray said softly. “Remember those ball games we used to watch?”

“Football?”

“No, baseball, the game with the bat. That game is the perfect analogy for a Martian. It’s you against nine other people, and their job is to get you out. You are the leadoff batter, and you got on base. You’ve done your part, now it’s up to us to bring you home. I’m taking Christa, Lars, the four district managers and a bunch of excited Martians back to Perseverance City with me on the 6:30 train. They can’t wait to see you and your squadron do a fly-by.”

“Huh? I told them no; they weren’t doing a fly by.”

Hilde patted his knee. “No honey bunch, you told them no flyby when you left for Mars. You mentioned nothing about a flyby when we return to the Borman.”

Blushing furiously, Alan tried not to look at Hilde. She would just lick her lips and make him blush more. “Who authorized a flyby?”

“Captain Reisman,” she said with a grin. Captain Reisman was the commander of the Borman and what he says goes.

“Ok, ok...” Alan gave a sigh of defeat. “We’ll form up and parallel the train for a while before climbing back to orbit.” He started to pull on his flight suit slowly as he considered the possibilities of what they could do.

“I know what you’re thinking. Nothing fancy. Three flights of F-119’s in formation should be enough,” said Hilde.

“Three flights?” said Alan. A flight was two or more aircraft in formation. His unit flew flights of four ships. More than one flight is considered a...” You said Squadron didn’t you.”

“Uh huh,” grinned Ray.

“You’re the squadron commander,” said Hilde. “You’re getting it from both ends now.”

“Wonderful,” groaned Alan. The largest unit he’s ever led was a flight of four, now he’s leading a squadron of a dozen.

Hilde and Alan finally got their pressure suits on, and they inspected each other’s suit. As they did, Christa and Jake stopped in to say goodbye. “Come visit us on earth when you get a chance,” said Christa.

“Can you do me a favor?” asked Alan.

“Sure,” said Christa.

“If you have a baby, please name it Harrison or Laurel.”

She whispered in Alan’s ear, “I’m due in April and her name is Alana. Alana Scarlett”

Alan threw his arms around Christa, so happy for her he could shout. “I suppose I had better do something to make her proud of her name.”

“You already have. I can’t wait to see you fly.”

“We’ll form up over the Jezero Crater and meet you there.”

After shaking hands with Ray, Jake and Lars, Alan and Christa walked off to the six o’clock air lock. As they walked through Bradbury Canal, people stepped out of their office or residence and said, “Thank you,” or gave them a thumbs up. A few even offered to carry their garment bags or helmets. At the air lock, a small group of people gathered to say goodbye and ask, “When will you be back?”

“I’ll be back in a few months when I can take leave,” Alan said as he put on his helmet. With another quick check of each other’s pressure suit, helmet seal, glove seal, and a check of the oxygen pack on their backs, they stepped into the airlock.

Hilde’s voice came over the radio. “I think you hit a solid double and are in position to steal third.”

“You watch baseball?”

“My dad said that my first words were Go Yankees!”

Alan was ready to take a nap, but the route to their bunk was blocked by a squadron formation flyby. “Let’s go fly.”

They walked past the big ugly patch that had become the grave marker for seventy-five Martians and discovered that there were more flowers that were placed at the site, along with Alan’s white roses. The F-119 Berserker had a light coating of dust, but that’s Mars. After a detailed walk around inspection, he and Hilde got into the cockpit and Alan prepared for start-up.

“Are you ok?” asked Hilde. In answer, Alan opened his canopy and stood up on his ejection seat, then leaned over the windscreen and picked up a rose that was lying on the nose radome of the Berserker. “You know, I think you hit a triple,” said Hilde with a laugh.

“I love Martians,” said Alan. He sat back down and put the rose in his map sleeve, then made sure he was locked in his seat. “Let’s do an atmosphere check with a vacuum start,” said Alan.

“Here you go,” said Hilde, and the atmosphere checklist appeared on his monitor. Even though she was an instructor, there are functions that only the “GIB” (Guy In Back) could fulfill, so she was also part of the air crew. One of those was selecting the right checklist and putting it on the pilot’s screen.

Alan checked the wing positions, flaps, slats, spoilers, but since the atmosphere on Mars was so thin, they couldn’t use the air breathing function of the N-22 engines. The power unit roared to life, and the Berserker shook as it woke up. Lights flashed, indicator dials spun, the wings and tail planes shuddered and jumped to alignment. “Ready to fly,” Alan announced.