Chapter 10 - History Lessons

It turned out Mars 3, my brother, and I missed a whole heap of human escapades during these long years. We asked question after question, and Pathy, bless her, answered them all with the patience of a dedicated teacher. That old Cold War that had seen us off to Mars had finally thawed, and the USSR became Russia and fourteen other countries. Mars 3 had a hard time wrapping her mind around it. Must've felt strange, learning the nation that made her no longer existed.

We had our history lessons, as Pathy called them, every couple of days. Politics, wars hot and cold, illness, life, death, creation, destruction. Human antics. Once Pathy hit upon a subject she liked, she could talk for hours (ah, that runs in the family). She dedicated more than a few of the sessions to humankind's progress in space. They were my favorites, I must confess, and I think the others shared my enthusiasm. Predictable, maybe, but we were spacecraft. What were we supposed to talk about? Football?

There was something I'd been wondering about ever since I met Pathy and Sojourner, a disquieting possibility that wouldn't leave me alone. One day, after we had finished our lesson and had gone our separate ways for the afternoon, I called Pathy. I wanted to ask this particular question in private.

"Pathy, Viking 1. You're doing great, kiddo. Thanks for helping us get up to speed."

"Anytime," she said.

"Pathy's a real great teacher, isn't she, Dad?" Sojourner asked cheerfully.

"She sure is. Say, how about you go and take some nice pictures. Your sister and I need to talk."

"Aw, do I have to?"

"Only for a little bit," Pathy said. "This is boring grown-up stuff. I wouldn't let you miss anything fun!"

Reassured, Sojourner bade us goodbye and roved a few yards away. Pathy and I were as alone as we were going to get.

"What's going on, Viking 1?" She spoke low and soft, so Sojourner couldn't eavesdrop, but the concern in her voice was loud and clear. "You don't sound like yourself."

There was no getting anything past Pathy. "This has been bothering me for a while. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation, but I still can't shake the notion that something is a bit off about the timing of our missions."

"What do you mean?"

"NASA waited fourteen years after my mission ended before they launched you and your sister. I'm curious as to what took them so long."

Pathy was silent for a moment. Did she not know the real reason, or did she not want to say it out loud?

Then, "The scientists needed time to develop the technology for Sojourner and I. We were a test, of a sort. They wanted to prove that they could make Mars missions 'faster, better, and cheaper.' Those were their exact words. I think they meant that you and your brother were too expensive. No offense."

"None taken," I said. I remembered JPL's Director and other officials griping about my price tag. This goddamn thing better work, they roared, or that's a billion dollars down the tubes! Truly delightful gentlemen, they were. Always had their priorities in order.

"Humans and their money," Pathy sighed. "I'm afraid cost will be an issue as long as they are the ones in charge."

"I should have known. The almighty dollar will forever govern the dealings of humankind." I laughed.

"There's more to it," Pathy said, voice even softer now. "I don't want to speculate too much, since I only overheard snippets of the scientists' conversations, but I think the results of your experiments also contributed to that delay."

My mind spun and my vision blurred. I remembered every nightmare of failure and inadequacy I ever had. Dr. Brackett's words taunted me across the decades: You're going to do such great things. I believe in you.

"Viking 1, are you alright?" Pathy asked. "You went silent for a minute."

"It's nothing." It wasn't nothing, and I'll bet she knew that from the wobble in my voice. "Was I…was my data good? Did I show them everything they hoped for?"

"Oh Vik—Dad." She was getting teary, too. "You were so much more than any of them dreamed of. Please don't think for a minute you did anything wrong. The problem is that humans love certainty. You gave the folks at NASA plenty of wonderful facts to work with, but you know as well as anyone that our experiments hardly ever have simple results. Sometimes the data is so confusing that people argue about it for years."

It hit me. "The one question they wanted answered more than anything," I whispered.

As if sensing my meaning, Pathy continued, "Life on Mars. I'm sorry to say they still haven't made up their minds. The labeled release was the only one of your biological experiments that gave a positive result. Most of the scientists insisted it was a fluke, but a few were sure you found life."

I pondered that for a moment, then asked, "What does all of this have to do with the mission delay?"

"The first group prevailed," Pathy said. I imagined she wore a forlorn expression. "Once the press and the public heard that there was no life on Mars—"

"We don't know that for sure."

"I know, now please let me finish. Once everyone thought they'd answered the big-Q Question, they lost interest in Mars. The agency threw all of its money at new programs, and the rest is history."

Humans. If they don't get what they want right away, they get bored and move onto starrier skies. Though I suppose not all of them were like that. Clearly a few good eggs got through to the top brass, and Pathy's mission was greenlit, sending her and Sojourner off on a glorious adventure before damning them to a lonely eternity.

Right. Perhaps I shouldn't be so charitable.

"They never sent another test for life," I mused. "I wonder what Dr. Brackett thought about that."

"Dr. Brackett? Barb Brackett?"

My eyes widened. "Yes," I said. "You…know her?"

"She visited the lab, right after I woke up."