Chapter 30
"The lives of men, and all their hopes and fears, were so little against the inconceivable immensities that they dared to challenge."
-Arthur C. Clarke "The Songs of Distant Earth" (1986)
"Captain? We've got radio contact at last."
The pilot turned around in her seat as the captain hurried forward. They were looking out a dark window upon the great red planet they were approaching among the stars. "Yes, come in. This is Rescue One. Come in, Adventurer. Over," he said.
"Rescue? Rescue One? We can't…" Heavy static drowned out the rest of the sentence. "…Have no way to … have been stuck here for…" The rest was lost.
"Can we get that sound clearer?" demanded the captain.
"Working on it, sir," said the mechanical systems engineer, attempting to fix the radio.
After a good ten minutes, the radio connection became clearer. "Can you hear us, Rescue One?" a frantic voice was saying.
"Yes, we can hear you, Adventurer."
"Where are you?"
"We are just entering Mars' orbit. We will land as soon as we find out where you are."
Just then Esma came up and spoke through the comm. On the radio in a steady, clear voice. "Check your coordinates," she said. "Is your navigational board still functional?"
"Uh… no. Well, it's stuck on the settings from when we crashed."
"That'll work," said Esma. "Read out to me the numbers on your screen."
She typed out carefully what the voice on the radio read.
"Has your vehicle moved at all since your crash?"
"I don't … I don't think so. It's so cold – we've lost six of our crew. The captain hanged herself."
"Listen, you need to focus," said Esma sternly. "You will all die unless you obey my orders right now. Listen and answer my questions. Is there a breach in your ship's hull?"
"Uh… no. No. But the ship's nonfunctional. We're out of fuel and our oxygen's nearly depleted."
"Okay. You all need to put on your suits – gather all the oxygen packs you have left. Don't take anything you don't need – we have plenty of food and water on board."
"What about our samples?"
"Don't worry about those right now."
"Excuse me, Esma," said the captain, turning off the radio button before she could say more. "We need those specimens. I know you're a specialist in space travel, but as the Captain I have to think about the future of the human race –"
"Fool!" said Esma. "Do you want those astronauts back alive or dead?"
He looked taken aback. "Alive, of course."
"Then do as I say. We only have a very limited window to rescue these people and get back while the orbits of Earth and Mars are aligned." She turned back to the radio. "We're going to try to land near your crashed vessel. Make sure you are ready when we come."
The captain shrugged as the others looked at him. "Do as she says," he said.
"We will," replied the voice on the radio. "But there's been a spill of hydrazine on board. It already killed two of us and destroyed part of the ship. So we'll only be able to get out to you through the back ventilation shaft. We have gas masks –"
"What is hydrazine?" Esma turned to the chief science officer, who was standing to the side of the flight deck. He looked surprised. "Hydrazine? It's an extremely toxic chemical that we use for rocket fuels. It's also called diazane."
"Oh, that! Okay. I didn't know it by the first name." She turned on the radio. "Get rid of anything that has even a molecule of hydrazine on it. Gather all the blankets and heaters and anything else you can find to keep warm. We're coming down to land now."
She nodded to the captain, and he immediately pinpointed the site and they began to descend. But once they had finally landed, they could hardly see the surface of Mars, and there was no sign of the other ship. The captain got on the radio again. "Hello, Adventurer. This is Rescue One. Come in."
"We're here," came a voice back. "Have you landed?"
"Yes, we've landed, but no sign of your ship, and it looks like night is coming on. We'll have to wait til morning. Over."
"'Til the morning?" came the panicked voice. "But – you can't leave us another night out here. Please!"
"Negative. I'm sorry. We cannot leave the ship until we are certain of your location. It is too cold on Mars' surface to roam around at night. Over."
There was cursing and weeping from the other end of the radio.
"I'm sorry," said the captain again. "We'll send out our Mars Surveyor to locate your ship so that we can begin first thing in the morning."
"All right," said the broken-down voice. "But please don't cut off radio contact. Will you talk to us through the night? So we're not imagining you're there?"
"Fine," said the captain in a gentler voice.
They kept the radio on while they ate their dinner, and the castaway asked questions and jabbered away.
"It's the sand storms, I think, that have blown us further than our original landing place. The ship has rolled over on its side and then upside down.
"Did you get our message? How did you get here so fast?"
"New technology," replied the pilot, whose name was Khadira. "So, are you the only ones left? How many of your companions are still alive?"
"Just three of us. Two of the crew were killed by the hydrazine."
"How did you come to crash?"
"Meteor storm. It ripped right through the side of the vessel. Did you hit any meteoroids? What kind of shape is your ship in?"
"It's in good condition," said the captain, "We've got a gravitational field outside which fires out gravitational impulses. Meteoroids are deflected by the electromagnetic shield surrounding the ship – for meteoroids smaller than a grain of sand. Lasers take care of the large ones."
"Wow! How did space travel get so advanced in just three years?"
The captain glanced at Esma. "We'll tell you more when you get on board."
"How long have you been travelling?"
"Only a month."
"How is that possible?"
The captain didn't answer, so Esma picked up the radio. "By moving close to the speed of light – specifically eighty-seven percent the speed of light. We don't want to go any faster, because going the speed of light can cause the heart rate to slow too much. We had a case of that before but we weren't sure if that person had a pre-existing condition. Still, we didn't want to risk it on future flights."
"You're joking, surely," said the voice on the other end of the radio. "There's no way NASA has made such developments since we've been gone –"
"You'll see when you get on board tomorrow," said the pilot. "Try to get some rest now."
The crew on Rescue One did not sleep. They spent all of the Mars' night (about twelve hours) preparing for the next day's mission. The mechanical systems engineer was keeping track of the surveyor as it searched for the wrecked Adventurer. But the survivors kept the radio line open all night, and kept talking and asking questions, and telling everything that had happened to them.
When morning finally dawned, they ate a hasty breakfast of orange juice and vacuum-dried eggs and bacon, then four of them put on their space suits and proceeded to the roving vehicle. They were the captain, Esma, the mechanical systems engineer, and the doctor. The pilot and chief science officer stayed in the ship.
The landscape before then was incredible. The sky was a smoggy, smoke-filled red, and the flat rocky surface before them was like red sand. The gravity was at once a problem for them. Their suits were not made to walk in such low gravity, and all of them fell down at least once before they could get to the vehicle. The mechanical engineer got into the driver's seat, and they drove a good half hour before they could see the wreck of the Adventurer.
"Radiation readings still normal," said the doctor. "It is a balmy negative eighty-seven degrees Fahrenheit."
"Khadira," the engineer spoke over the radio to the pilot still onboard, "Contact the Adventurer. Let them know we have them in sight and will be there within approximately thirty minutes."
"Will do, Evan." A few minutes passed, then her voice came through the radio again. "They have said you need to access the back ventilation tunnel to get inside. They will be there waiting."
"Copy that," said Even. "Captain, could you pull up the schematics of the Adventurer, please?"
The captain pulled out his screen and moved his hands over it until a 3D schematic of the ship came up. "Here's the third ventilation shaft," he showed the others. "The ship has turned over several times, but seismic activity is normal – no sign of quakes after landing."
"What about atmosphere?" asked Esma.
"Atmospheric tests show ninty-seven percent CO2," said the captain. "Trace elements of oxygen and other gases. Khadira," he said over the radio, "Keep checking for atmospheric disturbances. Let us know if you see any."
"Copy that, Captain," replied the pilot.
The closer they got to the wrecked Adventurer, they more damage they could see. It didn't even look like a ship anymore. The crew of six were supposed to have built an observatory base with the help of their machines, and have set up a garden to see if it would grow in a sealed environment; but they had never reached that far. The ship had flipped onto its side, onto its back, and then onto its other side in succeeding sand storms.
"I wonder how they've had enough heat and oxygen all these months," said Esma. "The ship looks like it was chewed up by the void and spit back out."
Once they reached the ship, the captain looked at the schematics to find the entrance. "We've reached the Adventurer," said the captain into the radio.
"Copy that," said the pilot. "You need to circle around the ship to get to the ventilation shaft."
"It's all wrecked on that side," said the captain. "Give us precise directions, please. Over."
The astronauts got out of the vehicle and promptly fell over again. They soon developed a method of bouncing, or leaping, and were able to slowly go forward in the low gravity.
Once they found the right place, they realized how much work it was going to be to clear away the mess that was obstructing the entrance. It looked lifeless, as if no one could ever have survived in this place.
It took them two hours just to clear away the debris before the entrance, and by that time they were all sweating and breathing hard. When they finally broke through, they had to squeeze through a tunnel on their hands and knees, which was very difficult in their suits.
"How have they survived this long in these conditions?" said the captain.
At the end of the tunnel, they reached an air depressurization chamber. The door closed behind them, and as the air pressurized they checked the oxygen levels – it was only at twelve percent. "Leave your helmets on," said the doctor. "The oxygen level is quite low. We don't want to use up the only air they have left." Then the lock turned and the door opened.
Before them stood a figure, male or female they could not tell, wrapped in dirty blankets and holding a gun. "Who are you?" a voice croaked from amid a mass of air.
"It's all right," the captain took his helmet off so they could see his face. "It's all right. I'm Captain Feder. We've been speaking with you on the radio. We've come to take you home."
The figure dropped the gun, and without a word, turned and tottered away toward the inside of the ship.
"It's freezing in here," said the captain.
"Thirty-four degrees Fahrenheit," said the doctor, checking the temperature probe.
They followed the figure through the dismantled ship. It could hardly be recognized as a space ship now – it was shredded in places, and in others caved in. There was a mess on the floor so that they had to watch where they stepped. The gravity level was the same as the outside surface of Mars, which made them stumble even more. They followed the dark figure into the looming darkness, until everyone was scared, except perhaps Esma. Then they realized their guide was speaking.
"They're here."
"What? You mean it wasn't a dream?"
"Yeah – it's really them."
As they drew closer, they saw two other figures lying on the ground next to a trashed radio that looked like it had been repaired with great care. These two figures were dressed in rags and old blankets, like their guide. Now they could see that the two on the ground, who sat up slowly to look at them with bleary eyes, were men, for they had long hair and tangled beards. The third figure was a woman.
"Are you all right?" asked the Doctor. "Are you the only three left?"
"Yes," said the man at the radio, and they recognized his voice as the one they had spoken to through the night. "Ted and Kora both died from the hydrazine leak, and the captain killed herself a month ago. She hanged herself from that beam." He pointed up above where they were standing. They all unconsciously moved back, as a lugubrious sense swept over them. "I guess we owe her our lives. There wouldn't have been enough oxygen for us to survive if she had lived."
"Speaking of oxygen, we brought you new tanks," said the captain. "We have brought one for each of you. Where are your suits?"
"We – haven't put them on yet," said the other man, who had sunk back down onto the ground. "We couldn't – do it ourselves." It seemed to be out of breath just from talking.
"We'll help you," said the doctor. "It's important we get out of here as soon as we can. Where was the hydrazine leak?"
"On the other side of the ship," said the radio man.
"And it hasn't spread?"
"No, I don't think so."
It was very cold inside the ship, so that the three marooned astronauts were shivering despite their blankets. "It's so cold in here," said Evan, the engineer. "How have you all kept the heat going?"
"We're running on the back-up battery. We estimate it will die within the next few days."
"No need to stand there talking, then. Let's get you into those suits," said Esma, who had not spoken until then. "Where are they?"
"Over here," said the woman, and pointed to a pile of dirty white lumps on the ground by the console. "Peter and I got them out last night. It took us … a while," she spoke slowly, as if very tired. "Get up, Armin. It's time to go."
The man lying on the floor sat up slowly and tried to stand, but soon groaned, put his hand to his head, and sank back down again.
"It's low blood pressure, from the low gravity," said the doctor. He reached over to help the man slowly stand while Esma helped the woman into her suit.
"What's your name?" asked the woman in a tired voice.
"Esma," the Vellorian replied.
"Esma…" she said, as if trying the name on for size. "I like it. My name's Stephanie."
Esma did not reply except to give instructions on stepping into the suit.
Finally, Armin, Stephanie, and Peter (that was the name of the radio man), were fitted up, and as soon as the suits were closed, a kind of euphoria filled their faces and they breathed heavily.
"Ah… that oxygen," said Peter, and closed his eyes as if he were about to fall asleep.
Just then a voice came through the captain's comm.. "Captain, it's Khadira. I've been checking atmospheric conditions and there's a sand storm heading your way."
How far away is it?" replied the captain.
"A sand storm?" said Peter, suddenly waking up and sounding terrified. "This ship won't survive another sand storm! We've got to get out of here!"
"It's just about an hour from our location, heading laterally, seventy-eight degrees."
"That means we'll barely have time to drive back. Hurry!" he called to the others. We have to go now."
This bad news seemed to infuse the castaways with new energy, or will. "What about the samples? We have to bring them," said Peter.
"No time," said Esma. "We have to leave immediately or we'll all die."
"She's right," said the captain. "Come on, we'll help you walk."
Slowly they made their way back through the debris in the main hull of the ship; for the castaways could barely walk. Finally, they made it to the depressurization chamber. The next was the most difficult part: to make it through the ventilation shaft. Here the rescuers could not help the others. Still, they put one of them in between each pair. So the captain went first, then Stephanie, then Esma, then Armin, then the doctor, then Peter, and finally the engineer.
"Captain, are you there?" came the voice of the pilot.
"Yes, Khadira," he replied.
"The sandstorm's coming closer. It's almost reached your location."
"Thanks, Khadira. We're doing our best. We need to hurry," he spoke in his comm to the rest of the group.
His words were needless. The ship was already creaking in the wind and he was simply left praying that it would not collapse on them. But it seemed as though it were already too late. Soon the creaking became a rumbling, and then the walls of the ventilation shaft were wobbling and warping before their eyes. Then the captain saw the dim red Martian light ahead at the end of the tunnel.
"I see it up ahead," he panted into the comms. "Just a little further."
But just then there was a tremendous crash from behind and a muffled scream. Debris from the crash had come loose in the creaking ship and fallen upon Peter, the one who had been on the radio with them all night. "Help! Help!" he was crying piteously. The engineer, Evan, who was behind him, was also trapped. The doctor turned back and tried to lift some of the rubble loose, which was easier in the Mars low gravity. Evan was trying to move it from the other side.
"Help me! Help!" cried Peter.
"We're doing our best," said Evan. The other four in the lead could not turn around to help, for the passage was too narrow.
"You must hurry!" cried the captain, "or none of us will make it!"
It only took them about five minutes to remove the rubble to where they could see Peter, lying with a heavy metal bar over his leg. "Be careful – my leg!" he cried when they tried to move it.
"Oh no…" said the doctor.
"What is it?" snapped the captain.
The doctor and the engineer were looking down at a large red stain running through the material of Peter's suit. A huge gash had lacerated his thigh and the blood was pouring out. The doctor tried to put pressure on it, but the bright crimson fluid kept spurting.
"He's injured in the leg."
"Well, bandage him up. You can treat him once we get to our ship. You can't treat him here."
"He'll never make it!" cried the doctor. Evan had tried to pick up the injured man to carry him, and both he and the doctor were covered in blood. "He's hit an artery, and he's bleeding out seven times as fast because of the low air pressure. I can't put enough pressure on the wound to stop it bleeding."
"Damn it," said the captain. "We were going to get all of you back safely. I'm sorry, but we've got to go now, or none of us will make it."
"No!" screamed Peter in a piteous voice. "Don't leave me, please! I've held on so long! My family's waiting for me…" He dissolved into sobs. "My little girl must be four years old now."
"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry," said the doctor, but they could still hear his voice calling to them as they went ahead and made it out onto the surface again.
The storm was gaining power now. The dust was swirling about so strongly that at first they could not locate the rover. But Esma, who had sharper sight than any of them, spotted it at last and led them to it. It was a treacherous ride back to the ship. The storm was right on their tail and rushing fast toward the Rescuer One. There was almost no visibility, so they actually let Esma drive, since she could see the best. The wind whirled around them and all they could hear was sobbing from the back where Stephanie and Armin were sitting.
It was a full hour's drive back to the Rescuer One, and by that time the full might of the storm was on them. The rest of the team, waiting inside, let out a long, hose-like rope which they could snap onto their suits and be pulled inside, or else they would have been sucked into the vortex and lost forever. Slowly, one by one, all six were pulled in and the hatch closed. The room pressurized, and they were able to take off their suits. Once stepping onto the ship, however, Stephanie and Armin immediately fell down and could not get up again.
"It's the artificial gravity," said the Doctor. "We've got it set on Earth's gravity, and you've been in no-gravity or Martian gravity for almost three years."
They were, indeed, sorry figures to see. The men carried them to beds, but Khadira ran up to the captain with panic on her face.
"Sir, we have to leave immediately," she said. "The ship has already suffered from the storm and may be completely destroyed unless we leave right now."
"Yes, I agree. You have the coordinates set?"
"I set up everything while you all were gone."
"Then we'll take off immediately."
It was a very rough lift off. The ship was battered here and there by the winds and at one point they thought they were going to crash; but at last they launched through the atmosphere and into space. The captain rose to examine the ship.
"What did you mean when you said the ship was already damaged, Khadira?" he asked the pilot.
"I'm afraid we've lost all the liquid-oxygen tanks in the lift off," she said. "They were damaged in the storm."
The captain turned pale.
"All we have left is the oxygen synthesizing machine. It should take our CO2 and convert it into enough oxygen for the journey back," she continued.
"We'd better guard that machine with our lives," he said.
The two astronauts who had been rescued, meanwhile, remained in bed, unable to stand, for seventeen days. They felt faint, sweaty, and confused, their hearts pounding, and the doctor said it was low blood pressure from being in Earth's gravity. They had bladder stones and were passing blood for a week before the stones at last painfully passed through. They were so emaciated they looked like holocaust victims, but could only drink a little first rather than eat. They had lost bone mass, so that once, when Armin tried to get up to go to the bathroom, he broke his arm when he fell down. They even shrank an inch or two in height. At first they asked all sorts of questions about the technology on the ship, for it was beyond anything they'd ever seen. The doctor had warned the others to explain little by little, and carefully, so that they were not too shocked. One day, as Esma was bringing Stephanie her food, the woman sat up a little and looked into the Vellorian's eyes.
"Are you an alien?" she asked.
Esma was taken aback for a moment, then she smiled and said, "I suppose you could say I am. How could you tell?"
"Your eyes," said Stephanie. "There's something… different about them. They look so old. Like they've seen light-years away."