Excerpt from "The Kiss at the End of the World"
Chapter 40 - Mars Base Freedom
Commander William Tahoe had taken
his chief engineer aside
“Okay, you’ve been grousing around
for the several days here. Now, I’d like to know what your problem is, Grief. Out
with it.”
“Sir, I cannot until I am sure of
my data,” Grief wiped his nose with his ever-present hanky, and back into the
back pocket it goes.
“Come on, out with it. Damn it man,
I’ve known you for thirty-five years. I know when something is up in that
little engineer head of yours. Now, spill it.”
“Sir, I cannot be sure…”
“Grief, this is an order.”
“Okay, then. Sir, it is this report I’ve been
checking over from logistics.”
“Yes, so? We went over that. We
seem to be sitting pretty, as far as resources go.”
“That’s the problem, sir. The
numbers…”
William looked back down at his
tablet, as another message flashed across the screen. This one about pressure
fronts from the Martian weather. Bored, he said, “Yes. The numbers. They can’t
be too far off, right?”
Grief grabbed his arm and said,
“Sir, from what I can tell they are way off.”
This stopped the Commander cold,
“What? We went over all logistics several times already. Everything looks good.
Food reserves; water; air recirculation, all look good for as long as we have
to remain here. We can stay here forever, right?”
“Commander, what were the original
compliment of settlers here at Freedom base?”
“You know as well as I do. You were
with us. Four hundred of the heartiest souls to ever live.”
“And how many joined us in the next
waves of ships?”
“You know all this too. Three waves
of ships delivered two hundred more souls.”
“Any more?”
“Yes, we’ve had fourteen engineers
join us. Regrettably, three accidental deaths. One dozen that have been,
shipped back to earth, also regrettably. Oh, and one new, healthy baby boy born
just a few days ago.”
“Right. I read that as a total of five hundred and ninety nine people in which live upon our little island here.”
“Okay, go on.”
“The numbers that we have been crunching
have been derived from the original four hundred original settlers. Not the
nearly six hundred here now. And certainly not including those that will
hopefully join us from the ISSB.”
“Oh? Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not commander. That’s what
I said. But this is what I can gather from these numbers I’ve been crunching
the past several days.”
“Well, that is bad. We’ll have to
figure out a way to get by with less, I guess,” he started to turn away.
“But this is not the worst problem,
commander.”
“Damn it, man. There’s more?”
“I’m afraid it’s much worse than
that, sir.”
Blarney now had the commander’s
full attention, as he stared at him with absolute dread, “Go ahead.”
“As you know, Commander, the Mars
atmosphere is very unforgiving. On earth, there is the atmosphere which
protects us from the worst radiation. Here on Mars, we are not only shielded,
but also underground, so our water and food resources are protected.”
“Yes. Years of research was done on
this and it was determined that we could reside here with no injurious affects
from the radiation topside.”
“Yes. Yes. And for how long?”
“What in the hell are you getting
at, Grief?”
“I’ve been running these numbers too,
and they don’t look good.”
“Okay. Which numbers?”
“Well, sir, I have been using the Sieverts sliding Scale for long-term
low-level radiation exposure. You see, a modern CT scan would probably expose
you to less than 10 Millisieverts. Our daily
input here, even under the ground with full shielding gives us about half that.
The worst exposure is in the one thousand range.”
“Okay,
I see what you’re saying.”
“Over
time, that scale slides upwards. 5 Millisieverts per year for, well, say a
hundred years has a cumulative effect of around half of the worst. So, in one
generation of living here, we could all die of radiation sickness and cancers.”
“We,
or our progeny may be stuck here for hundreds of years, Grief. How the hell
does that configure?”
“It
doesn’t, sir.”
“Is
there anything we can do to now to mitigate this?”
“Probably
not. Of course, if you could create a massive electromagnetic atmosphere to
completely surround us, or the planet, we could probably adapt to stay here
forever.”
“Anything else sunshine? What do you suggest,
then?”
“Pray,
sir. Pray the Earth is not burnt beyond redemption and we may be able to visit
her in a few decades, or less.”
“Okay,
Grief. You are hereby ordered to take two days off. Keep off from any sort of
networking until I tell you, it’s okay.”
“What,
sir?”
“Is
there anything we can reasonably do right now to change this?”
“Not
really, sir.”
“Exactly!
Grief, we are now living in extraordinary circumstances. We’ve all lost loved
ones, family and friends. Hell, everything we ever knew is now taken from us.
So, Chief Blarney I order you to relax and take two days off. I will keep you
informed if there are any crucial and immediate developments.”
“But…”
“No
buts, Grief. Forty eight hours. And if I see you anywhere near engineering,
I’ll personally throw you in the brig. Understand?”
The
big guy got a saddened look on his face, like he just lost his best friend.
The
Commander repeated, “Understand?”
Blarney
reached to his back pocket, pulled out his hanky and blew his nose, as an
acknowledgement. Then, suddenly his face brightened considerably. He looked up
at the Commander and said, “Well, okay then. There is a whole set of
engineering manuals that I’ve been aching to get to but have been too busy.
I’ll see you in a couple, Commander.”
William
shook his head, as his head engineer hurried off to his quarters. He started to
walk the other way down the corridor, when an engineer’s assistant passed him,
and he grabbed the young man by the arm, “What’s your name, ensign?”
“Woodruff,
Sir.”
“Well,
Woodruff. Please do me a great favor; in my cabin behind the book cabinet there
are two bottles of Bourbon Whiskey. Please take these, and send one to Head Engineer,
Grief Blarney in his room. The other one you may enjoy with your mates. Please
do not drink on the job. Got that Woodruff?”
“Yes,
sir. But, sir? I do not drink.”
“Well,
good for you. You’ll live longer. And, I predict you will be very popular with
your friends for the evening. Now, scat.”
“Yes,
sir!” The ensign scurries off the same direction that Grief headed.
The
Commander shook his head and though he felt good, he knew that his friend and
Engineer was probably right. They were absolutely doomed.
