The Mars Company Anthology
Chapter 1

 

Luna Orbit

January 9, 2057

Devin MacGregor shielded his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the viewport as the space station’s rotation brought the outsized spacecraft into his line of vision, and he drank in the sight. The Herbert George Wells was the culmination of years of planning and several billions of dollars, yen, euros, and other currencies in investment that had been poured into the project.

One of the more remarkable aspects of the entire Mars colonization effort was that it had been completed entirely without government assistance. The Mars Company had been started by an eclectic group of businessmen and investors just after the turn of the millennium. They had two goals in mind – to be the first group to colonize Mars, and the first company to establish a profitable business in space.

A work crew labored along the spine of the massive vessel inspecting the attachment points for the shuttles and the cargo modules. The modules carried equipment and supplies for later use by the five hundred colonists aboard the Wells. Devin keyed his datapad and reviewed the specifications of the ship again.

The ship was two hundred forty meters long from the engine exhaust nozzles to the blunt nose of the accommodations section, sixty-five meters wide at the exhaust nozzles, and thirty-six meters tall from the upper spine to the bottom hangar section. The twelve fusion drive engines generated twenty thousand tons of thrust, pushing the ship at one tenth gee. She carried sufficient fuel to make the trip to Mars in about six weeks, with a generous fuel reserve. Devin paged through the display; just over twenty-two thousand tons of cargo, seven shuttles for transporting people and materials to the surface. Wells had a loaded weight of nearly one hundred eight thousand tons.

The cargo holds and the eight cargo modules contained prefabricated sections of new homes, machinery, vehicles, and other supplies, but the bulk of the capacity was taken up by a long list of materials the colony would need for the first six months. Fabrics, metals of all types, chemicals; the list went on for pages in his display. The colonists could fabricate nearly anything they needed until the raw materials were available locally.

Once they reached Mars orbit, the ship itself would serve as a temporary orbital spaceport until a permanent facility could be established on Phobos, the nearest moon to the planet’s surface. The empty containers would each be fitted with a smaller version of the Wells’ fusion engines, converting each into an independent spacecraft. They would travel to the asteroid belt to begin mining operations. The Wells also carried a hundred multipurpose satellite buses. These would be equipped and deployed as needed for a GPS network, communications and survey missions.

The Wells had her own repair shops and enough tankage and hangar space to service the shuttles as they plied the route to and from the groundside colony. The next group of colonists would follow within a year and the spaceport and Mars City would be ready to receive them. Devin smiled at the thought. He would be in charge of the spaceport and his nerves tingled in anticipation of fulfilling the dreams he’d had since he was a boy.

The tall, lean man grasped the grab bar under the viewport and rotated his body in the station’s microgravity. The station was now over Farside, and he liked to look on the side of the moon that mankind had not been able to see up until some eighty years ago. He watched the battered landscape slide by under him as the station crossed the terminator. The moon’s surface plunged into darkness, save for a small cluster of lights on Nearside’s surface. That would be one of the ore processing centers that, along with the asteroid processing center at the Earth/Moon Lagrange Point Five, had provided the materials to build the station and the Wells.

Devin checked his datapad, noting that he should’ve been asleep two hours ago. They were due to leave for Mars in five days, and the rest period was short enough as it was. There was still much to be done. He gazed at his new command a moment longer, then turned and made his way to his quarters.

Luna Orbit January 10, 2057

Walking carefully in the spin generated gravity; Devin stepped up to the podium. The station’s main concourse was packed; Devin hadn’t seen this many people in one place since he’d left Earth. He cleared his throat and activated his headset microphone.

“Welcome, everyone.” The side conversations died as people turned their attention to Devin. “Most of us here know each other, but for the benefit of the media, I will make introductions. I’m Devin MacGregor. I am the Wells’ captain, and I will fill the role of spaceport administrator when we reach Mars.”

He turned to the small group seated behind him. “I’d like to introduce a few of the key people aboard. Keith Davies,” a short, stocky man with sandy brown hair stood, “is our chief engineer. He’ll be the one we all answer to if we break anything.” Keith grinned and sat back down.

“Next is Sijay Izadi.” A tall, willowy brunette rose with feline grace and smiled at Devin. “She’s our pilot, and she’ll fill the post of flight director. She is also my assistant.” Sijay sat down.

“Next is Lenna Davies, our chief medical officer, and,” he smiled, “my wife.” Lenna simply waved from her seat.

“Last is Shanna Reston.”

A petite redhead stood and waved at their guests. “Hello, everyone.”

“Shanna is our electronic systems specialist,” Devin added, “and she will fill the same post for the colony. Thank you all,” he said to the assembled colony leadership team.

“Since our time is short, I’ll continue the briefing. First though, I’d like to thank everyone for all their hard work. You each know how much you’ve put into this mission to make it a success. Now, if you’ll bring up the agenda on your datapads, we’ll begin.” Devin’s melodious tenor flowed over the group as he conducted the press briefing.

The first manned mission to Mars had landed in 2037, and several subsequent missions had laid the foundation for the first permanent colony on the Red Planet. An advance team had mapped the groundside colony site and would be waiting for the colonists when they arrived. The new arrivals would literally set up housekeeping and hopefully have children soon afterwards.

The colony planners had also rejected the military model for the colony’s leadership. Devin wasn’t the “mission commander” and Sijay wasn’t his “executive officer”. Instead, an administrative bureaucracy operated under the rules of a representative republic would govern the colony.

Extensive research had driven the mission planners to select only married couples with no children as the finalists for the first large-scale colony mission to Mars. Post-modern theories aside, The Mars Company’s leadership felt that strong families were the most essential ingredients for the colony’s long-term success. They had recruited couples from over twenty nations to compete for the mission assignments. The qualification process was a barrage of tests, interviews, background checks and simulations that eliminated candidates with ruthless dispatch. Of the ten thousand couples considered, only two hundred fifty couples would fly on this mission.

Their job was to begin the process of actually constructing the colony; breaking ground on the spaceport and at least two groundside facilities. They were also tasked to locate resources and begin extracting them to support the building efforts. The colony’s flight department was equipped with seven shuttles and the crews to continuously man them in support of these objectives.

Transfer Orbit to Mars January 15, 2057

“Thrust burn complete,” Sijay reported from her pilot’s station.

“Very well. Thank you, Sijay.” Devin nodded to the pilot, and then pressed the all hands key on his command chair keypad. The attention tones chimed from every comm panel aboard ship and everyone stopped whatever they were doing, if practical, to listen.

“Okay, everyone. For better or for worse, we are on our way to Mars. So, sit back and enjoy the ride. We have a little over twelve weeks to go, and then we are all going to be very busy. That’s all,” Devin said. He unkeyed the comm link and looked around the command deck.

“Good job, guys. Let’s start the duty rotation,” he tapped another virtual key and looked at the display, “which says that I’m on watch right now.” He grinned at the others. “I think that you all deserve some time off, so I’ll just sit here for a while.”

“Thanks, Boss.” Sijay grinned back at him as she unfastened her harness and eeled out of the pilot’s seat. “I need to find a potty.”

“Oooh, you would mention that!” Shanna complained from her sensors position. “A guy invented the toilets on this thing, too.” She loosened her own harness and grabbed an overhead handrail as she pivoted to face the hatch. “You first,” she nodded to Sijay.

“Thanks.” Sijay pressed the hatch control and floated through. “See ya, Devin.” Shanna caroled as she pulled herself through the hatch.

“Have fun!” Devin called back. The closing hatch cut off whatever retort the ladies may have fired back, and Devin turned to his displays with a smile. He configured the command displays to his liking and sat back to enjoy the idea that he was actually going to Mars to stay.

In transit to Mars March 7, 2057

“Stand by for trajectory correction maneuver,” Shanna intoned calmly over the general comm channel.

Wells’ initial thrust burn had been almost perfect. Unfortunately, ‘almost perfect’ over thirty-five million miles translated into an error of nearly a hundred miles at their destination. The actual deceleration burn to place them in Mars orbit was six weeks away, but they needed to make a course correction now. Mission Control back on Luna had carefully planned the trajectory correction maneuver they were about to execute.

Devin studied his navigation repeater a moment longer, and then he nodded. “Okay, Sijay, it’s all yours.”

The dark-haired pilot nodded. “T-C-M burn in one hundred thirty seconds. Beginning attitude transition now.” Sijay nudged the attitude control joystick in her right hand forward as she followed the maneuvering cues on her display. Wells’ attitude thrusters flared; the massive vessel slowly rotated, flipping end for end in preparation for the deceleration burn. Sijay pulled gently on the stick, stopping the rotation at precisely the correct attitude. “Attitude change complete, Devin.”

Devin grinned at the satisfaction in her voice. “Very well.”

Sijay rested her left hand on the throttle lever and selected the auto start sequence on her display using the throttle’s trackball. “Auto start engaged,” she announced. A countdown timer appeared on every monitor on the ship. 30... 29... 28...

A hundred and fifty meters behind the bridge, the massive drives came to life under the watchful eyes of Davies’ engineers. “Watch Twelve, now.” Keith’s soft brogue betrayed his concern. The engineering crew had labored over the drives’ control systems in concert with the groundside technicians to correct some minor problems that had cropped up during the initial thrust burn.

The countdown timer reached zero and a dozen magnetic valves opened together. Pressurized hydrogen roared through the valves and was instantly superheated in the engines’ plasma chambers. The ionized particles blasted aft through the magnetic nozzles and Wells began to slow.

“Good burn,” Sijay announced as she focused on her nav display. “Twelve minutes to go.” The deceleration pressed Devin back in his seat, a sensation he found mildly uncomfortable after the weeks spent in freefall.

A strident tone sounded and Shanna’s head jerked around to the alarm panel. “Radiation warning!” she snapped. “We’re taking hard radiation from,” she pressed a virtual key, “somewhere aft!”

Devin pressed the comm pad selector for Engineering. “Keith, what’s happening?”

Davies adjusted his headset mike as he studied his own displays. “It’s not us, Devin. All our stuff is working just fine.” He selected another display. “Whatever the source, it’s outside the ship, not here.”

Devin turned his chair to face Shanna. “Well?”

She shook her head. “Beats me. I’m trying to look aft, but the exhaust is blinding the aft cameras. I’m extending the ventral boom to have a look.” She tapped her keypad. “The good news is that it’s mostly alpha and beta. Not much gamma to it, but it’s ramping up. Fast.”

A thin, crane-like arm unlatched from the ship’s lower spine and extended downward, carrying the bulbous sensor housing at its tip clear of the containers. When it was fully extended, the sensor package rotated to point aft and began sending the imagery to Shanna’s displays.

“Ghandi on a goat”, Shanna breathed as she stared at her visual display. She split the display into segments of the spectrum, trying to make sense of the spectacle that had appeared in the Wells’ path.

“What is it?” Devin asked as he swiveled his command chair to look at Shanna’s displays.

The looming bulk of the lower hull filled the lower quarter of the screen, and the harsh blue glare of the exhaust bloom spilled out from behind the ship’s shadow, but Devin paid scant attention to those details. His eyes were drawn to the black nothingness at the center of the display. Starlight danced and wavered at the edges of the irregular glob of blackness that widened as he watched. Devin’s hands ached, and he realized that he was clutching painfully at his chair’s armrests. They were going to hit whatever that was.

“Sijay, evasive maneuvers. Take us away from it.”

The brunette shook her head as her mind raced. “That won’t help. We can’t generate enough side vector to make a difference. We might consider terminating the burn before we hit.”

“Do it.” He turned to Shanna. “Shanna, time to contact?”

“Fifteen seconds, judging from where the exhaust is disappearing into whatever the hell that is.” She magnified a section of the display. As they watched, the energized particle stream of the exhaust simply ceased to exist at the boundary of the anomaly.

“Shanna, initiate a data dump to Luna, just in case they’re not getting the live feed.” He turned to his camera pickup. “Luna Command, we have encountered an unknown anomaly, and, as you can see, we can’t avoid it. Wish us luck.”

“Oh, shit,” Sijay muttered the pilot’s prayer as she locked her seat into position and checked her restraints. She selected the emergency shutdown command from her virtual menu, and killed the engines.

Devin keyed the all hands channel on his intercom. “All hands, brace for impact. Stand by for decompression. This is not a drill.”

Nine minutes and fourteen seconds later, the senior flight controller on duty at Luna Command sat upright in her seat as her display began to play the command deck feed from the Wells. “What the hell?” Her outburst was echoed all over the command center. The staff exploded into frenetic activity as the preposterous images and data flowed in.

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