Chapter 23: Life On Mars

Martian Immigration Facility
New Pittsburgh, Mars
Tuesday, April 3, 2153

Harlan Jones was waiting in the lobby of the Martian Immigration Facility in New Pittsburgh. His mother and brother were supposed to be in the freighter that had just docked at Triad and were being shuttled down to New Pittsburgh. The MPI had contacted him after Scotland Yard had passed along to the EastHem Foreign Ministry that they had collected one of the WestHem Marines’ families. The Martians had agreed to pay for the Jones family with one-hundred thousand tons of mixed beef and pork products. The notice from Planetary Intelligence gave Harlan enough time to move from a two-bedroom apartment to a three-bedroom apartment. For him, that was both excessive and expensive, but he worked out the finances. With the housing allowance in his brother’s and his mother’s basic stipend, they could afford the large apartment.

Fortunately, he would be able to collect his family and get them home to Eden quickly. There were provisions in the Martian Immigration requirements to allow a ‘sponsor’ to pull immigrants out of the system before they completed the mandatory ‘Life On Mars’ vids and talks with Immigration counselors. The sponsor could screen the vids and handle the inevitable question-and-answer session. Harlan had agreed to be his family’s sponsor.

Harlan followed the timetable on his computer. The immigrants were loaded onto a pair of landers at 0812. The landers left Triad at 0847 and 0851, ETA 1137 and 1141. At that point, Harlan began pacing around the lobby. The landings were on time, and the immigrants were offloaded into the Main Reception Hall by 1202. ‘Special Circumstance’ immigrants, which weren’t all that common, were separated out at 1205. Reggie and Andrea Jones would be coming out at any moment.

A door opened and the Joneses came into the lobby, looks of confusion on their faces. As soon as they saw Harlan, those looks turned into ear-to-ear grins. Harlan started walking towards them, but that turned into a run. Crying he wrapped his arms around his brother and mother. “Oh my God! You’re here! You’re here!”

Reggie and Andrea hugged him back. Then Andrea collapsed, sliding to the floor. Harlan dropped to his knees, but his mother hadn’t fainted. Beside him, Reggie began calling for a medic.

Whiting Memorial Hospital
New Pittsburgh, Mars
Tuesday, April 3, 2153

“Let’s get some derm and see who we have here,” said the admitting nurse. She took a hand scanner and placed Andrea Jones’ index finger on the pad. Then she stared and placed her thumb on the scanner. “What in the world?” She looked at the two men who had followed the patient into the emergency room. “Who is this person?”

Harlan and his brother had been taken to the hospital by a police cart stationed outside the immigration facility. Reggie looked confused but Harlan said, “Andrea Jones. Check the immigration database. She hasn’t had time to be officially admitted yet.”

The nurse fiddled with her scanner and then smiled. “Oh, here we are. Andrea Jones. Well, let’s get her into a room.” She waved over a pair of nurses, and they moved her from the dip-hoe stretcher to a gurney. She looked at Harlan and asked, “Are you relatives?”

“We’re her sons. I’m Harlan Jones, Martian resident. This is Reginald Jones. He just arrived from EastHem with our mother.”

“Follow me.” She turned and smiled at Reggie. “Welcome to Mars. We’ll take good care of your mom.”

The brothers followed the gurney down a hall and into what they recognized as an emergency room. A few seconds later another woman in white came in. She immediately placed several instruments on Andrea even as the first nurse inserted an IV needle into Andrea’s left arm. The second woman looked at the readouts on a wall monitor and smiled. She said something medical to the nurse and turned to the Jones boys. “I’m Elaine Sorenson and I’m a doctor. You’ve already met Hellie Wellcraft. Good news. Your mother doesn’t look like anything immediate is about to happen. That’s a good thing. We’re going to get her some oxygen and then run a few tests.”

Reggie looked nervous at that. “Uh, how much is that going to cost. Neither of us has a job yet, so we don’t have any insurance.”

The doctor and the nurse stared at Reggie, even as Harlan chuckled. “Don’t sweat it, bro.” He turned to the doctor and nurse. “My mom and my brother just got here from Earth. They don’t know how things work yet. Mom collapsed before they got the ‘Life on Mars’ classes.”

Both women gave a relieved look. “Oh! Welcome to Mars,” said Elaine.

“Yeah, welcome to Mars,” said Hellie. “We don’t have that here.”

Harlan placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. Medicine on Mars is a basic human right. It’s in the constitution.”

“Barbaric!” said the doctor, shaking her head in disgust. “That just makes it more certain. We will want to run some tests on both of you. My bet is that you both have acute and chronic medical conditions that will need treatment. We routinely get that with the colonists from EastHem.”

Andrea began to stir on her gurney and her eyes fluttered open. She tried to sit up, but Harlan and Reggie gently pushed her back down. “Mom, it’s alright. Stay calm,” said Reggie.

“Calm down, Mom. You’re in the hospital. You’ll be fine,” agreed Harlan.

Andrea calmed down and focused on the people in the room. “Harlan, is it really you? Oh, my God! It’s you? For real?”

Harlan was crying as he leaned down and hugged her. Then the doctor was pulling him upright. “Give us a moment, Mister Jones.” They began looking at some of the monitors and pulling out some additional instruments.

Andrea looked at her youngest son. “You’re in a hospital, Mom, a good one. This is Doctor Sorenson and Nurse Wellcraft. You passed out in the lobby of the immigration center.”

“I can’t afford a doctor!”

“Mom, calm down. There’s no charge. Don’t worry. It’s alright,” said Harlan.

“There’s no charge, Mrs. Jones. Don’t worry about that. Medical care is free on Mars,” said Sorenson.

“Really? That doesn’t sound right,” said Andrea.

Harlan smiled. “Mom, I wouldn’t lie to you. I promise. There won’t be a charge. They don’t even have insurance here. You just go to a doctor or the clinic or the hospital and they take care of you. Trust me!”

Doctor Sorenson began running a few tests as Reggie and Harlan watched. After a few minutes, she said, “I am admitting you to the hospital. You, too, Mister Jones. We need to run some tests and do some imaging. I imagine we should know what’s going on in a day or two. Hellie will get you set up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She took her leave and left the room.

“Any chance we can get something to eat?” asked Reggie. “It’s been a long day.”

“Of course,” said the nurse. She clicked on her computer and some pages popped out of a printer. “Here’s our menu. I can take your order and it will be ready in a few minutes.”

Reggie looked at the menu and then looked at the nurse. “Is this for real?”

She looked at her screen and then compared it to the pages she had printed. “What’s wrong?”

“Kansas City ribs? French onion soup? Thai curry vegetables and chicken?”

“I know it’s not like a regular restaurant, but we try to have something for everybody.”

Harlan laughed and said, “I think I know what’s wrong. On Earth, health care is a profit center, not a service. Food is an expense, so food quality is kept low to keep costs low. Hospital food on Earth is so bad it’s a common joke.” He turned to his family and said, “This isn’t WestHem. Pick out what you want. You’re probably going to like it.”

“For real?” said Reggie.

“For real,” replied his brother.

“Then I’ll take the Kansas City ribs and some French fries. And a beer? I can get a beer?”

Hellie smiled but shook her head. “Non-alcoholic only. We’re a hospital after all. They do a killer milk shake, though. Chocolate?” Reggie nodded and Hellie placed his order. She turned to Andrea.

“Can I get the chicken wings and a salad?”

Hellie asked what flavor wings and what dressing, tapping the entries into her computer. Then she turned to Harlan and took his order for a small steak and a tomato salad. Then she said, “You’re not a patient, so you have to pay. Your mother and brother are patients, so they don’t.”

Harlan extended his index finger. “Do I derm you now or later?”

“Oooh! That sounds interesting!”

“Harlan!” protested his mother.

Harlan winked at the nurse and said, “Yes, Mom, I’ll behave.” To Hellie he said, “Can we get them a room together? It’s a whole new world, you know?”

“Sure. Let’s do that now and your meals will be ready when we get there.” She worked on her computer a moment and then summoned an orderly. Harlan and Reggie walked behind as the orderly and the nurse took Andrea to a different room on a different floor. After the orderly left, she explained some of the tests they would be getting and what the scans and imaging involved. “That’s all after your meal.”

“So, eat hearty. You’re on starvation rations afterwards, at least until the tests are done,” laughed Harlan.

A few minutes later a motorized cart came in with their meals. Hellie sorted them out and left. Reggie and Andrea marveled at the quality of their meals. Harlan simply smiled and said, “It’s still hospital food, but on Mars, that’s pretty good. When we get you out of here, I’ll take you to a good restaurant.”

In between bites, Reggie asked his brother, “So, how does this work, that nobody has to pay for medical stuff and the government pays for everything? That’s socialized medicine!”

“I suppose it is. If it cures somebody, does that make it good or bad?”

“Are you a Martian now, Harlan?” asked his mother.

Harlan shrugged. “Sort of. There are two types of Martians, citizens and residents. Citizens are Martians who are born on Mars. Residents are like us, people who have immigrated here. They have the same rights and laws, but residents can’t enlist in the Martian Planetary Guard or the Navy, can’t be cops, and can’t work for a defense contractor. Otherwise, they are no different. We can vote, get jobs, serve on juries, you name it.”

Reggie asked, “Do we pay taxes? More taxes, I mean. And what about...”

“No taxes.”

That stopped the conversation. “What? No taxes? Then how do you pay for hospitals?”