Martin Greenberg - Space Stations

When he reset the band frequency to H, he could hear a pleasant feminine voice. “I am Jeanne Monier, engineering physicist of Ares. You must be from Trailblazer, n’est ce pas?”

He recognized a distinctly French accent even before hearing the last phrase and it sounded pleasant to his ears. He had grown up listening to his grandparents speaking the French patois of Louisiana’s backwood country, although he never really learned to speak it himself.

“Yes, I am Jacques Boutillier, pilot from Trailblazer. Are the rest of the crew all right?”

“I am afraid not. The storm suddenly hit us just before landing and we crash-landed; the ship hit a boulder, which caused the ship’s hull to rupture. There was a catastrophic air decompression. Captain Ritter was piloting the ship himself and wanted to move freely during the critical final maneuver, so he was not suited. Neither was Roel van Dijk, our planetary physicist, who had to monitor all instruments closely during the landing operation. The captain had ordered Boris Ivanov, the pilot, and me to suit up before the landing operation. Just in case.”

“Did Ritter know the risk he was taking, then?”

“Oh, yes, both Captain Ritter and van Dijk were aware of the risk, but they thought it was worth taking, to be the first on Mars. Anyhow, Ivanov was knocked around on impact and broke his leg. He is immobilized and is resting uncomfortably inside. The other two had no chance at all. I tried putting oxygen masks on them immediately, but it was no use.”

Boutillier suddenly felt a warm empathy for the kindred spirit. “So they died while standing their watch on the bridge.”

“Yes, that would be a gallant way to put it. Anyhow, Boris Ivanov and I are the only survivors. I have been trying to contact Trailblazer, but our receiver is not working. The dust tornado might have knocked off the antennae. With the sandstorm so fierce, I dared not go outside to check. If I had, I might not have been able to get back in. I kept sending S.O.S. signals. Did you get them? Is that why you are here?”

“No, we received no signals from you. I came down here to see if there was anything we could do to help you and your crew. Show me where Ivanov is, and I’ll carry him back to Valkyrie, our shuttle. On Mars, he can’t weigh much. But the storms might come back in force. Let’s not waste any time.”

“D’accord. I’ll show you where he is. It’s not a large ship.”

It was a bit awkward to carry another man on his back through the doorway when both were suited in bulky space suits, but Boutillier managed. He had Monier open the hatch for him when they reached Valkyrie; as he pulled Ivanov in after him, she hurried in and locked the door behind her.

They took off immediately. The storm was gathering force again and they barely made it off in one piece. Boutillier did not worry about computing a matching orbit before the takeoff; departing intact was the foremost thing on his mind. He was confident that he would be able to match orbit with Phobos, especially since he had made sure that the fuel tank was full before leaving the base.

Monier spoke up when she was certain that Boutillier could spare his attention.

“Would it be possible to pressurize this cabin so I could take off the helmet? I have been wearing this thing almost a day. The air supply is still okay for a while longer, but I could use some refreshments. That is, unless it is going to be only a matter of an hour or so to get to your mother ship.”

“It may take a few hours as I had to take off without checking the orbit of Phobos first.

We’ll pressurize the cabin right away. I should have thought of asking you before you brought it up. Sorry!” With that remark, he pushed the button to repressurize the cabin.

When her helmet was removed, it revealed a bright, intelligent face with twinkling green eyes. Boutillier felt—as the French might say—thunderstruck. He had never met a woman who had captured his attention so thoroughly at first sight. Would he be indulging himself in a fantasy if he thought she reciprocated his feelings—a little? As if to confirm his thoughts, she flashed an intimate smile.

Jeanne then murmured softly. “To think that I am being rescued by Valkyrie, a messenger of death for Odin!”

It took several more hours to match orbit with Phobos despite Boutillier’s best efforts.

Ivanov needed first aid urgently. It would take a minimum of three weeks for the fracture to heal. The extreme low gravity of Phobos would be a blessing to him, however. Jeanne Monier was not in top shape either in spite of the brave show she had put on.

The sandstorm gradually cleared up. Over the next several weeks, with Linde Hoerter keeping a watchful eye on the Martian weather pattern, the team from Trailblazer took turns in going below and setting up a temporary habitat on Mars by converting one of their two supply ships. Eriksen decreed that the habitat, which had been designed based on the previous knowledge of the Martian surface conditions, would not be safe in severe sandstorms. The habitat needed to be beefed up considerably if human beings were to live on Mars for an extended period.

Boutillier and Okita made a special trip to Ares to bury Ritter and van Dijk. Okita had brought with his communications unit a minirecorder containing Wagner’s

Goetterdaemmerung and played it as they buried the two bodies in the reddish sand, after encasing them in hermetically sealed containers. Knowing what was taking place down below, the stirring music brought tears to the eyes of the four astronauts remaining in Orbital Base Phobos.

The time came for Trailblazer to return to Earth. The ship had been designed for a four-person crew. Two out of the six people on Phobos would have to stay behind and wait for the return of Trailblazer with a two-person crew. There were provisions enough on the ground and on Phobos to keep them in good shape for up to a year.

At a gathering of all six members, Eriksen set out to select the two who would remain behind. He regarded it to be his duty to be one of the two. If the captain was expected to go down with his ship, he should be expected to stay behind, shouldn’t he? He was trying to find a second volunteer from his crew.

Eriksen’s good intentions were sidetracked again by his dauntless Cajun pilot.

After two months together on their voyage out, plus several months spent on Earth getting ready for the mission, it was well known to all that Eriksen was a happily married man with a loving wife and two small kids, who were anxiously waiting for his return. It was also no secret that Linde Hoerter had a fianci, whom she planned to marry on her return. And, Nobuo Okita had an ailing mother at home. For those reasons neither Hoerter nor Okita volunteered to stay behind but they made it clear that they would be willing to do so if called upon by the captain. Ivanov had gotten married only a few months before Ares’ departure and his wife had not seen him for almost a year; besides, his leg had not yet healed completely.

The Cajun pointed out those undeniable facts about the four and then declared that he had nobody in particular he had to go back to and he was therefore the logical person to stay behind. He carefully avoided saying anything at all personal about Jeanne Monier.

Instead, Boutillier looked at Monier—with his eyes eloquently saying the unspoken words. She looked straight back, answering his unvoiced question.

She volunteered immediately.

Eriksen clearly saw the inevitable. “All right, if you two think you can manage to survive by yourselves for the next six to nine months, so be it.”

Silently, Boutillier said to himself, To be really alone with Jeanne for six months! From where he sat now, even nine months would not seem long. Besides, this would give him plenty of time to explore Phobos for any sign that it might have been used as a space station a long time before.