Yves Giraud - Kahnu

“Don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Father, but I still need those papers.” Taking the documents out of the priest’s hands, he simply added, “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, four police vehicles were stationed in front of the religious edifice and Don Arnold was taken into custody. The priest had pleaded not to be taken in with handcuffs in front of all the passersby and agreed to voluntarily follow the officers to an unmarked vehicle the police had dispatched and parked a few blocks away. Both he and the Doctor were taken in for questioning.

Two days later, Lars and several of his associates were gathered in the main conference room of the Mars First complex, talking via Skype to several members of the board.

“We do not know yet how much information was gathered by the group, but we know they call themselves the ‘Goddelijke Rechtvaardigheid Broers’ or GRB for short, a small group of religious extremists who believe that sending people to Mars is going against God’s wish. It appears, from what was found in the church where both men were apprehended, that their intentions were to infiltrate our premises and place explosives around the base to destroy our labs. I had a long talk with my security officers this morning. We all agree that we may see more attempts in the future, not only by the same group of fanatics, but also by others like them. We have received numerous threats over the past few years. Now that we are only weeks away from the first launch, I’m afraid things will only get worse.”

Sylvia, sitting next to Lars, was impressed by the calm in his voice. She was truly shaken by what had just happened. Don had not only been a coworker for years, but a close friend as well. This could have had a very tragic outcome. Someone could have died. And how could they be sure he was alone on this? What if he had an accomplice? Someone else on the base, maybe in this room right now! She scanned around the table, looking at every face, trying to imagine if one of them could be a traitor…

One of the board members responded from one of the screens on the wall.

“We agree, Lars, we think it’s time to tighten security and limit access to the compounds to an absolute minimum. The board has agreed to your request for more security systems and guards. Get whatever you need. More equipment, cameras, dogs, whatever your team feels is necessary. We cannot take any chance now. Too much is at stake. We would also like to get a complete report on everything the police found on this religious group and Dr. Arnold’s involvement as soon as possible. Have you decided on a replacement yet?” finished the man.

“Yes, Mr. Zakawi. We went through our list of candidates, and my team and I would like to bring in Doctor Ivaylo Kovachev, from Bulgaria. Dr. Kovachev has extensive experience with astronaut training. My assistant just uploaded his file to the system. You should have it. He worked for the Russian space program from 1992 to 2004, and then transferred to Antarctica’s station Blokov, one of Russia’s research stations, where he worked on survival studies in extreme environments. He applied to join our program four years ago. I had a phone conversation with him last night. He sounds highly motivated, and I feel confident he would be a great asset and a perfect replacement for Dr. Arnold’s position,” concluded Lars.

“Very well, then. Make the necessary arrangements to get him on board as soon as possible. We cannot afford any more delays. The launch window is too short, and time is money. Oh, and Lars, thank you, to you and your team for doing such a great job. Just make sure we have no more incidents like this one.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, Mr. Zakawi. Thank you,” replied Lars, knowing exactly what he meant.

Keeping the media out of the whole story had been impossible, but Mars First’s legal department had done a great job at lessening the negative publicity the incident had fueled.

With or without enemies, Mars First had nonetheless managed to reach its goal of having the first go at sending humans to Mars. NASA was still eight years behind, at best.

By now, many of the early skeptics were on board, not because they had suddenly found the venture a beautiful one, or a great benefit to humanity, but mostly because the financial gains couldn’t be ignored. “Mars First Now” had become the most viewed show in the history of television and the internet, combined. The ratings had gone off the charts.

For the men and women of the future Mars First colony, the public interest had been as intimidating as suffocating at times. So many had contacted them via email or through the countless social networks, blogs, and fan pages on the internet, that the astronauts had soon found themselves unable to keep up. The Mars First administration had eventually dedicated a small part of their PR department to handle all incoming correspondence.

“…before. This adventure, you are all four about to embark on, is the most profound and the most daring journey ever undertaken by man. In less than six months, you will land on Mars, a planet no man has ever set foot on. A bare world, millions of kilometers away from our own Earth, where you will have the opportunity to establish a land post, a beacon for mankind, the first human foothold on another planet, and a successful first step toward interplanetary colonization. You will stretch the reach of our species millions of kilometers into space. Be proud and be brave. The whole world is watching you. You have our admiration, our support, and our love. May God be with you all.” President Jarvis stepped off the podium and walked to the four astronauts to shake their hands.

Several thousand kilometers away, Makar Sokolov, was watching his son, Dedrick shaking the hand of the most powerful political figure of our time, the president of the United States of America. Makar had never felt prouder. His son was going to Mars. His name would be forever inked in the history books, Dedrick Sokolov would be remembered for generations to come. A few meters away, Dedrick’s mother, standing in the shadow of the doorway, was crying silently.

The two black SUVs were almost at the entrance’s check point. Inside the leading vehicle, François, feeling smug as he looked at the large “Bienvenue” sign, couldn’t resist a smart remark.

“So, I guess you guys couldn’t do it without the French. Good thing we’re here.”

Sabrina, seated next to him, rolled her eyes. Everyone else in the car ignored him as well. François was used to it. Team One had just arrived in Cayenne, French Guiana, that same morning, along with Lars. Without delay or rest, an SUV and escort had taken them directly to Kourou where the launch of MF1, the Mars First One spaceship, would take place in a few hours. Looking out the tinted windows, the astronauts watch the tall rocket in the distance slowly get closer as they approached. The two vehicles were soon joined by a military jeep and given priority access through a restricted area, leading the convoy away from all the media vehicles and reporters gathered outside for the event. Every major news media that had been able to secure a seat was there. Countless TV crews and journalists had come to immortalize the historic moment. Some family members were there too. Vera’s sister had arrived the day before, and so had François’ parents and brother, to his amazement. Sabrina’s mother, still recuperating from an unexpected surgery, had been unable to leave Guatemala. As for Dedrick’s parents, his dad, far too proud to let anyone know he had an absolute fear of flying, had turned down the invitation, blaming the whole thing on his wife for not feeling well, as he so often did.