Chapter 7: Outbound From Mars

RSS Lake Baikal, October 12, 2131
Outbound From Mars

The heavy lift freighter RSS Lake Baikal shot out from Martian orbit at twice the speed that a grand old dame like her would dare venture. It was a high-G maneuver that even military spacecraft wouldn’t attempt unless it was an emergency. But there were no complaints from the passengers, they were all unconscious. The crew of the Lake Baikal worked fast to complete their mission. They got everyone in the seats and strapped in properly, then using a metal plate they bolted the passenger cabins closed, sealing the passengers in. Then they went aft to handle the cargo. The iron ore was loaded on the Lake Baikal in removable cargo bay inserts. The inserts were being transferred to a cargo ship that normally hauls ore from the Asteroid Belt to Jordan Steel Foundry in orbit around Earth.

Meanwhile, a small ship matched its trajectory with the Lake Baikal and two people in space suits that were covered by white plastic overalls transferred to the RS Lake Baikal and entered the passenger compartment. The new spacemen were Sander Nickel and Napoleon Lowe, Martians and employees of Dr. Herbert Burgman of the Marconi-Edison Bio-Electronics Research Department.

They worked quickly and while Sander Nickel moved through the twenty-four sleeping passengers sticking hospice tags, a plastic square to their foreheads, Napoleon Lowe chatted with the cabin crew. The pilot, co-pilot, and navigator were being paid a lot of money for this, and they were excited to be able to retire early. Maybe they can settle somewhere in the Eastern Bloc. The land around the black sea was supposed to be beautiful and welcoming to pirates like them.

The conversation was light and centered around what they were going to do with all that money, and it ended when the white suited Napoleon Lowe took an inoculation gun and quickly pumped a fatal dose of opium into each crew member. He moved so fast that none of the crewmen had a chance to defend themselves. Meanwhile, Sander Nickel insured that there was plenty of opium in the crew’s water canteen to possibly confuse a potential investigation and he took a used syringe and stuck it in the Navigator’s arm. Chances of an investigation were slim, but Doctor Tarkov, the leader of this mission, insisted that they prepare for any contingency.

Meanwhile, in the passenger compartment, the hospice tags that were stuck to the foreheads of each passenger came to life spurred on by their brain activity. Their brain activity caused the rectangle to change from black to white, which normally showed the wearer’s name and other such information. These just showed a black number. Napoleon Lowe moved through the passengers using his inoculation gun, injecting each passenger with enough slow release sodium pentothal to keep them unconscious for days.

Tammy and Shiela Burnette were wearing plastic squares along with their other 24 passengers. Sheila on the aisle showed #11 and the square on Tammy’s forehead showed #12. Every passenger marked with a number. While Sander mounted a wireless video camera on the forward bulkhead to record the events of the experiment, Napoleon Lowe drifted to the back of the passenger compartment and injected #24 with the results of Project X.

“All test procedures complete, we’re done over here,” called Sander Nickel on an encoded radio frequency.