S Morden - One Way

Huge arms, huge legs, neck like a tire. Blond stubble on his scalp. And the tattoos. It took a moment for Frank to scan them all. 1488 on his forehead. HATE on the knuckles of the one visible hand. Swastika on his neck. Aryan Brotherhood.

Frank looked a little too long, and the man caught his stare. He gave a slight nod—I see you—then returned his attention to the short wall at the end of the room, which was one big screen.

“They made me run up the Mountain,” said Frank. “Sorry I’m late. And a bit funky.”

The moon-faced man kicked out a chair next to him at the same moment that Frank’s earpiece told him he needed to sit down. They were all wearing earpieces. They were all wearing identical uniforms. Frank realized with a start that this was his team, his crew of seven.

He slid into the proffered chair, and the moment his backside hit the plastic, the screen flickered and lit up. A commentary started to play in Frank’s ear, and judging by the expression of everyone else, in theirs, too. “This is a Xenosystems Operations training video. You will find the following orientation information vital for the successful outcome of your mission. Please pay close attention throughout.”

They all started like that.

“Congratulations. You have been selected as trainee crew for Mars Base One, mankind’s first permanent presence on the Martian surface. This prestigious project will be built and staffed by Xenosystems Operations on behalf of NASA, for the good of our nation, and all mankind. You have been recruited to help XO to fulfill that contract. You will leave Earth in six months’ time—”

Six months. Among those who realized just how short a time that was, there was a murmur of consternation.

“—and travel to Mars. You will be placed in suspended animation for the duration of the journey, which will take in the region of eight calendar months—”

More murmurings.

“—and on arrival, Phase one will begin immediately with assembly of the prefabricated module units. Establishing early self-sufficiency of the base is an absolute priority. Synthesizing enough oxygen and water to provide yourself with life support, growing your own food, and generating your own electricity will be critical milestones on this path. Your complete co-operation is needed in order to complete the base within the time allotted.

“NASA astronauts will already be in flight on your arrival. There is no facility to allow for, nor is there expectation of, a delay in the base’s readiness. After the base has been constructed, you will spend time rigorously testing the structure and infrastructure, and then enter Phase two, a maintenance mode which requires you to maintain your particular aspect of the base’s systems. If necessary, the delivery of extra materials to extend and re-equip the base will require you to resume your original Phase one functions.

“Visiting scientist astronauts and other NASA staff will have priority over your time. You will treat them with the utmost respect and assist them when and where required, remembering that you will remain serving prisoners and subject to the Californian penal code for the whole length of your sentences.”

The graphics playing on the screen showed the landing ship touching gently down on a brick-red plain, already scattered with supply canisters. People—it could only be Frank and the others—emerged and went to the nearest canister and constructed a towing vehicle. While that drove off and corralled the other supplies, the rest of the white-spacesuited crew set to and built the first module. In a slightly improbable time, they connected it to a second, and pressurized it.

Almost as if by magic, solar panels appeared, and a satellite dish. More modules popped up, with parts coming from the recovered and neatly laid-out rows of canisters. The landing craft was off to one side, and nearby there were three parallel lines of modules nestled together on the Martian surface.

Frank turned his head sideways. The base was bigger than he’d thought. Fifteen separate sections, with another couple of independent units close by. Big set of panels, dish, antennae. Other machinery he didn’t yet know the function of.

Six months to learn how to do all that? They needed to all train on how to fit the airlocks, and the structural flooring of the modules. There’d be more specialized work inside: bedrooms and a sick bay and maintenance bays and the greenhouse, and they needed power and water and air before they could grow so much as a single potato.

He glanced at the others. The black woman opposite was staring at the screen, one eyebrow arched and the muscles at the side of her jaw flexing. Down his end of the table, they all appeared to be either stunned or frowning. Being exposed to the enormity of the task had put their meager training so far into grim perspective. Frank had been there since… when? The end of February? It was, was—Did he even know? April? May? Three months, tops. They’d told him pretty much jack, and he guessed that went for the others too.

The graphics continued. Once the base was mostly complete, another ship arrived in the vicinity. Buggies went out—though Frank couldn’t see where the additional buggy had come from—and collected the crew.

The film finished. That was it. That was all they were going to get for now. Frank leaned back in his seat so far that it creaked.

“Well, that was a crock of shit,” said the gray-haired woman.

“Six months?”

“A year asleep in a spaceship? Is that even legal?”

“We can’t learn to do all that. The regular astronauts are like, trained for years.”

Frank tilted his head until he was staring up at the ceiling. “We’ve got a choice,” he said. “We can either do it, or we spend the rest of our lives in the Hole.”

“The way I’m looking at it,” said the moon-faced man next to him, “that might be more certain.”

“How many teams do you think they got doing this?” Frank slowly winched his body back until he could rest his elbows on the tabletop. “How many other groups like us do you think they have?”

“What do you mean?” asked the thin black kid, and Gray-hair rolled her eyes.

“God’s sake, it’s obvious what he means. You think we’re the only ones? You think that if we get our panties in a bunch here, it’ll have any impact on them at all? They’ll pick another team of people who might actually want to go.”

“You all heard what I’ve just heard: selected as trainee crew. Trainee. We can still flunk this,” said Frank. “But let me tell you now: every one of us in this room is going to Mars. It doesn’t matter if none of us likes anyone else. If the only way I get to Mars is by you getting to Mars, that’s how it’s going to happen. Works both ways: you’re relying on me to get you there, too. That’s pretty much the bottom line.”

“So you,” and Gray-hair gestured at Moon-face, “whatever your name is: I’m not going in the Hole for you, and neither is anyone else. You get your shit together right now.”

“Or what, lady?”

“Or Adolf over there will rip your head off and stick your tongue up your ass.”

Everyone looked at the neo-Nazi man-mountain. He shrugged. “I don’t do that any more. But neither do I want the Hole.”

Moon-face tapped his fingers on the table. “You got a potty mouth, lady.”

“Doctor, or Alice.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“But you’ll remember mine.” She stared around the table. “No one craps out. Everyone got that?”

“Who said anything about crapping out?” said the black kid. “I’m going to goddamn Mars.”

“We’ve got six months to get this right,” said Adolf. “I’m not going to let anyone down.”