VISUAL EFFECTS / CH. 12:PACKING DAY

WEDNESDAY 15TH JUNE 2270

The Celestia was designed as a series of concentric cylinders, with the very core being the control room and the radiation shelter.

Passengers were asked to divide their luggage into three types: Cabin luggage, which would be available and taking up valuable space in the passenger's cabin for the flight, vacuum-safe luggage and normal luggage. Vacuum-safe luggage consisted of pots, pans, metal poles, nails, screws, anything that was pure metalwork with no moving parts. Some bulk-chemicals also counted as vacuum-safe, but most plastics were not in that category, as there was a risk of them releasing plasticisers or other chemicals which might interfere with the ship's systems. Vacuum-safe cargo could be of basically any shape or size, and would be arranged by the loaders just-inside the outer-most layer of the ship to ensure that the ship was balanced along its central axis. Normal luggage had to fit inside the pressure hull, and would be carried in one or more of the cargo-pods. The pods came in various shapes and sizes, but the important issue was that the cargo could not move around within them, or for obvious reasons, distort the pod or stop it from closing. Inside this outer layer of cargo pods came a thin jacket of water which served as a radiation shield and then the passengers' teaching and recreation space, then a secondary water jacket, and the cabins. When radiation levels were above normal, the outer spaces were off-limits, and during a severe storm everyone would have to cram into the claustrophobic but heavily shielded radiation shelter. “Have we got any vacuum-safe luggage?” Alice asked.

“Some of your hydroponics chemicals might qualify, but they'd need to be re-packed into something that they won't leak out of, won't react with and isn't plastic. For the few kilos we're talking about I'm pretty sure it's not worth it,” Simon replied.

Alice breathed a sigh of relief. “Great!”

“What worries me the most are those suitcases and bolts of cloth of yours.”

“Why?”

“The not moving around criteria.”

“Evangeline said something about foam, I didn't understand what she meant.”

“To make sure your stuff doesn't move, they shake it. If it moves too much, they inject something rather like construction foam in.”

“Urm, what's that?”

“You know that foam they sell to fill holes in buildings with, which goes hard in half an hour or so?”

“Oh! That yellow stuff?”

“Yes.”

“That sticks to everything”

“Exactly.”

“What's Evangeline's solution?”

“Plastic wrap anything sensitive, just in case, and fill the holes yourself with insulation sheets, which always come in handy on Mars, apparently. Or, if you really want to get ahead in the soil-preparation game, you could use perlite, It's not quite as light as insulation sheets, but it has lots of good properties as a soil additive.”

“Now I realise why you said it was going to take a couple of days. I was imagining just strapping stuff down into the pod. Isn't that what they said to do?”

“Yes. Evangeline's seen too many newcomers almost in tears over seemingly ruined clothes though. It is in the small print that they'll use foam to secure mobile loads. The other good news is what they use does come off, eventually.”

“When did she say that?”

“Oh, maybe a year ago, in a group Bible-study. I can't remember the context it came up in.”

“Oh, right. That explains why I didn't hear it. Oh, I've just remembered. I've got another dilemma for you.”

“Yet another? From your interview with the professor?”

“Actually, my discussion with Ed.”

“Go on,” Simon prompted.

“I told Ed a while ago that I'd cheated on some stories. On Friday, he asked me how. I got him to think of a nursery rhyme, and told him what it was.”

“That's a risk.”

“Well, yes, but I'm wondering, might it be useful to prime him to the idea that I can think to people across planets?”

“How might it be useful?”

“Thought one: someone does something nasty, and with my dying thoughts I tell Sue who, how, and so on. She gets listened to rather than entirely written off as a crack-pot.”

“I hope you won't have that happen to you. Isn't that why I'm going with you?”

“Yes. That and keeping me safe on the way, keeping me warm at night, and helping me to think thorough nasty questions. I hope I can help you with something, Simon. I really wonder sometimes what you get out of our relationship.”

“Other than a spring in my step?”

“Practically, yes. How does me entering your life help you?”

“I never thought I'd have the courage to go to Mars, for all it was my dream. I didn't want to face it alone. Your need for me... that's bringing me two things I've longed for and prayed about a long long time.”

“Two things? Mars and what else?”

“A wife I can talk about everything with.”

“Oh, right. So, what do you think about Ed?”

“It's too big a risk, surely?”

“Probably. I guess I'll just have to tell Sue enough to remind him of that conversation, if I do need to convince him through her.”

“Could you tell him some kind of key-word?”

Alice smiled, “You, Simon, are a genius. I could tell Sue the password to the file I gave him. That would surely be pretty convincing.”

“So, shall we get packing?”

“Absolutely.”

----------------------------------------

“Ms Findhorn, Mr Bunting,” the man at the loading desk greeted them as he verified their tickets, “I've got a note that you're travelling together?”

“Wedding day on Saturday,” Alice replied with a grin.

“Congratulations! You're first on my list, so I'd like to offer you the opportunity that presumably you're interested in, of trading two singles for a double room with twenty kilos extra luggage.”

“How many extra people are you hoping to load?” Alice asked.

“Pardon?” The man was nonplussed.

“Well, some friends of ours are also getting married, it's a double wedding,” Alice said. “So, if there's only one extra passenger, then we think their need for the extra luggage is greater than ours; I'm seriously considering selling my house on Earth and getting the contents sent the slow way anyway, once I'm settled. I'm pretty sure they've not got that luxury.”

“Oh, right. Well, I can't disclose details, but... what I can say is that you'll almost certainly disappoint someone if you don't accept the trade.”

“You've got a long waiting list, then?” Simon asked.

“I'm sorry, as I've said I can't disclose details,” the man repeated. Wishing he would be allowed to tell this couple that he had more entries on the waiting list than on his list of couples to offer the swap to.

“We'll take the trade, then,” Alice said, “and I guess you should tell our friends it's worth their while to come soon, Simon.”

The man breathed a sigh of relief.

“Do you have any questions about the three categories of luggage?” he asked, having ticked that box.

“Not really,” Simon said, “Oh, actually, yes. Is there such a sub-category as vacuum safe for stuff that isn't impact safe?”

“Impact-safe?”

“I've got about ten kilos of experimental gear that I know is vacuum safe.”

“Sir, the risk of outgassing, that is to say...” the man started to say. Simon cut him off.

“Is roughly zero, given that it's been sitting in a vacuum chamber for the last year, and it's rad-safe too, but if it got kicked into place by someone's boot, because they thought it was a bag of ironmongery, that'd be a disaster. Ditto if it got hit by a bit of debris before we left orbit.”

“Oh. Well, I think maybe that it'd be safer in a metal case or a cargo pod.”

“I thought so. Cargo pod it is, I think.”

“Do you have other vac-safe luggage, sir, maam?”

“Not unless you can work out how to stop powders from leaking everywhere.” Alice said.

“Powders?”

“I've heard that talcum powder's import only, so I'm taking some of that, for instance, and we've got a bag of perlite to fill spaces in the pod and use when we get there, so stuff doesn't move too much, and I'd be quite happy to take what's left over, but that's a bit powdery too.”

“Oh, right. No, talcum powder and the fine stuff like that are definitely pod only. Double-wrapped at least. You're really planning to fill your pod with perlite?”

“And insulation panels. Is that a problem?” Simon asked.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Not really. You'll get a stick-on foam strip to seal the edges- don't leave any gaps: the load master will probably murder you if your pod spills perlite beads all over his cargo bay. As for packing perlite as vacuum-safe, that's not a problem at all.”

“Oh?”

“It's a bulk cargo the Celestia's taking. We've got the right bags, so assuming you're not picky about getting the exact beads back, we can add yours to theirs at this end, and take some out at the other.”

“Oh, great. Does that work with anything else?” Simon asked.

“Mostly hydroponics stuff: fertilisers, plant nutrients, that sort of thing.” the cargo agent said, in a bored tone.

“Great!” Alice exclaimed.

“Really? You're thinking of brewing your own gloop?” the bemused cargo agent asked.

“No, but tomato plants have been grown hydroponically for centuries. I'm planning on starting some that way as soon as I can. It seems a lot more satisfying than feeding my hair to my heap,” Alice replied.

“I'll pretend I didn't hear that heretical thought,” the cargo agent grinned, “Go to our network site — you've got the address?” he checked. Alice nodded, and he continued, “look up appendix twenty seven for the Celestia.”

“Thanks. I will!” Alice said with glee.

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MINI-ARTICLE OR FRAGMENT? PUBLICATION DATE: TBD. TITLE: APPENDIX TWENTY-SEVEN

Getting to Mars is a complicated business, but some parts of it can be made a little simpler if you know the system before you pack your cargo. Of course, most people don't. So, let me introduce you to appendix twenty-seven. This lists, for each and every ship, what bulk cargo Mars Corp is planning to transport. If you have some of the same stuff, then you can add your few kilos to the hundreds that Mars-Corp want to take, and all the packaging is handled for you. This in turn can save you precious grammes of double-wrapping and of course gets rid of the worries that say, your bottle of general purpose lubricating oil leaks and ruins your stock of chocolates.

I'll write a little later about why I'm taking bags of perlite and chemical fertilisers with me, but Mars Corp's bulk list includes them too, which is wonderful. I must admit having a few anxious moments in packing my cases about the oil getting too close to the fertiliser, so I'm exceedingly happy that Mars Corp are willing and able to take care of both.

Once you've identified what from your cargo can travel bulk, it's simply a matter of handing it to the cargo agent, who will check that it's really what it says on the label and pour it into the relevant hopper or vat and give you a cargo receipt. Remember, of course, that you will need a suitable container for it at the other end: don't expect anyone to provide you with one.

I learned something else while loading my cargo today: some of the older ships, for example the Celestia, which I'm flying on, are privately owned and operated. I'm not quite sure how it all works, but one thing it means is that while the general conditions are the same on every vessel, there are some differences. As a private vessel, the owners of the Celestia can set a slightly higher cargo limit per passenger, for example, than a Mars-Corp ship would set for a given route and thus attract more passengers. Passengers, the cargo agent assured me, pay better per kilo than any bulk Mars Corp cargo, even though they take far more space when you consider the extra space they inconveniently insist on having, for things like breathing.

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WEDNESDAY 15TH JUNE 2270, EVENING.

Later that evening, while Chris and Simon were talking to pastor Bob, and Minerva, his wife was supposed to be talking to Alice and Evangeline, there was a crisis involving their seven-year old son, a football and the neighbour's greenhouse. Minerva had excused herself to try and resolve it.

“You've been able to swap tickets?” Alice asked Evangeline.

“Yes, so Mum gets her extra cargo. And I got introduced to the captain, who was actually on the crew when my Dad flew out. She owns half the ship too.”

“Oh! So does that get you special treatment?”

“I doubt it. But as long as everyone's very well behaved and there's no significant radiation, then swimming is a real possibility.”

“That sounds good,” Alice said.

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Any other news?”

“Yes. They got a bit scared at the thought that passengers might decide to carry an oxidiser in their luggage.”

“An oxidiser?”

“For example, nitrate fertilisers,” Evangeline replied.

“Oh. Yes, I was really glad that they can carry the stuff safely away from everything else,” Alice said.

“As far as they're aware, no one's ever thought of taking their own before, but they're going to put together a list of stuff they'll only carry as bulk.”

“That sounds sensible. I'm surprised that there aren't such lists already.”

“They're circulating the idea to the other private owners.”

“And Mars-Corp?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because when I explained the idea of expanding people's heaps without all the fuss, the captain really liked it. But she thinks that, given the way that Mars-Corp love their monopolies, there's a risk they'd issue a blanket ban on people bringing their own fertilisers.”

“Oh. So she thinks Mars-corp are being anti-competitive?”

“She has so little to say in how she runs her own ship it's not funny.”

“Roll on the revolution, then?”

“Expect to hear the crew singing some Scaredy Jim tunes on the way out,” Evangeline said with a grin. “I'll probably be called on to sing some like a native. That's fine by me, after all, he is our most popular folk-singer.”

“Just for the record, one day I'd like to interview him.”

“Don't hold your breath.”

“I'm guessing it'll be a while after my first harvest.”

“Good guess. But the whole 'We don't exist' thing might make a difference, you never know.”

“Somehow, I expect he knows.”

“You might be right,” Evangeline sighed, “I don't even know how to track him down.”

“When it's God's time, it'll happen,” Alice said. “I'm supposed to be learning patience, remember.”

“So, can you remind me again?” Evangeline quipped, with a grin, “Why are we doing marriage prep?”

“Because there's patience and then there's human frailty.”

“But we all could have waited.”

“We still could put it off, though of course the next two month's sleeping arrangements have just become a little difficult if anyone decides on that.”

“Just a bit.” Evangeline agreed. “Lots of changes around the corner. More for you, of course.”

“There's lots of changes for everyone. Any regrets?”

“I'd have liked a longer engagement. More time to go on dates, get to know each other better.”

“Rumour has it that's still possible to date after the wedding day.” Alice pointed out.

“Not so much on a space ship, though.”

“No candle-lit-suppers in space?”

“Candles aren't the best idea on a spacecraft, no.”

“What about on Mars?” Alice asked.

“Not so risky, but getting them can be tricky.”

“Something else to take?”

“If you're really low on ideas of what to take,” Evangeline said.

“Don't worry, I'm not.”

“Me neither.”

“Is your pod sealed?” Alice asked.

“Not yet. Another trip tomorrow, to use up our extra weight. Yours?”

“Ditto. Simon's going to load some more experimental gizmos he'd miss, and I'm going to find space for some kitchen stuff. That reminds me, do I need to take kitchen scales?”

“What, and get them recalibrated?” Evangeline asked.

“Well, if I can't buy local, then just having a list of conversions would be better than nothing.”

“Oh you can buy local, sorry. Unless you've got something that actually uses weights and geometry?”

“Oh, yes, I've got one of those too, but it's probably too heavy.”

“But more accurate. Your choice, but I expect it's worth taking. Local digital ones get a bit hit and miss after a while. It's to do with the metallurgy, apparently. I bet the radiation doesn't help either. For commercial quality stuff they import the load sensors, but you still need them certified monthly if you're going to use them for trade. That's only once a year if you've got real weights.”

“I'm not sure my weights are that accurate, but OK they can get adjusted, I get the principle. But... will we use scales for trade?”

“I expect so.”

“So, they're on my list for sometime. The question is when Simon and I decide they ought to come.”

“Yeah. Not many people have a second load coming.”

“I've been weighing stuff, in preparation for some difficult choices. But I've got some questions for you some time.”

“Ask away.”

“I've got some glass-fronted cabinets. Just plain three millimeter sheet glass. Is that made on Mars?”

“Sheet glass no, plastic yes. No factory for that yet.”

“Mirrors the same?”

“Yes.”

“Drinking glasses?

“Plastic beakers yes. Some hand-blown glass yes.”

“Oh... interesting. Do you know any of the glass-blowers? And do they know that window glass used to be made by hand?”

“Yes and yes. Whether it's commercially viable, I don't know.”

“Yes. To me, it's only going to be worth its weight in imports.”

“Yeah, worth its weight in biomatter is actually quite a lot, though.”

“Not biomatter, Eva. Biomatter is going to lose value, remember? Worth its weight in imported mass though... that's quite a different story.”

“Oh! Yeah! So we could just keep with kilos and the like, you mean?”

“Sure. Just bear in mind that importing costs are likely to drop with monstrosities like the Jupiter around, so a certain amount of inflation is going to happen. But it's going to be more stable than bio-matter.”

“Yeah, and it's still a scarce resource.”

“So's water and breathable air. Or alternatively you could have a free-floating traded currency, or peg your currency to some national currency on Earth. But yes, if your currency is based on the cost of genuinely importing stuff in general then that's certainly something that's more honest than bio-matter.”

“I just can't get my head round the idea that bio-matter's dishonest. Don't you have a saying that there's nothing more honest than dirt?”

“Something similar, yes. Oh, in lots of ways the currency is utterly honest, but as a way of Mars Corp paying people? Answer me this, Eva: how much would the average Martian pay for gloop?”

Evangeline pulled a face. “Not much.”

“Right. So, at the moment, bio-matter on Mars is a really scarce resource, But it costs Mars Corp less than its weight in gloop.”

“How do you think we're going to change things?”

“I think Mars should get off the bio-matter standard, and onto something that Mars Corp can't generate like monopoly money. I'm going to blog my experiments with the hydroponics, which ought to prepare people's thinking, at least.”

“Yeah.”

“And while I'm doing that, and learning to be Martian, I'll hopefully be shredding the whole 'Martian equals convict' mentality at home by interviewing born-Martians, emigrants, university students, and so on. After probably six months of that sort of thing, I'll start to slip in some interviews with third gen people about the risks their forebears took. And at some point I'll do the whole expose Mars-Corp thing, with an interview of a whole crowd of brave seconders and thirders, and my colleagues will be knocking on Mars Corp HQ demanding to know why Mars Corp have reneged on promises, misled the United Nations and are treating Martians like feudal serfs.”

The words struck Evangeline like a slap “Serfs?”

“You're not slaves, you've got some rights after all, but Martians work for Mars Corp, making high tech equipment the Corp can sell for a substantial amount on the Earth market. In exchange, the Corp feeds them and pays in monopoly money. If anyone wants to leave their employ, they don't mind as long as they stay on-planet so that their children can work in the factories instead. If you really want to leave, they charge extortionate amounts of money for a trip home. They'd actually prefer people to kill themselves rather than leave, because if they killed themselves they'd still be able to export stuff. They give you a little bit of freedom, like allowing the council its role, but otherwise living in the big dome is a form of indentured labour, and they treat the whole of Mars like a massive work camp. Its a cynical and exploitative system worthy of the era of empires.”

“But you're coming?”

“Of course. I'm an investigative journalist determined to bring the abuse to an end.”

“Plus you're going with the man you love.”

“Yes. Well, he's accompanying me, actually. His mission from God. But yes, I'm not going alone.”

“Whereas I'm just going home and dragging Chris into an oppressive, cynical and exploitative system.” Evangeline sounded unsure if she was doing the right thing.

“I think he's pretty happy about it, Eva,” Alice said, “I know he's happy about you. Mars might be under terrible rule at the moment, but once Mars Corp starts treating people like they should, I think it'll be a lovely place.”

“Lovely, dangerous place you can't breathe the atmosphere.”

“Oh well, you can't have everything,” Alice said with a shrug.

“But... how can you leave this place, Alice? It's so beautiful!”

“I've got a job to do, and I see a future there. It won't be too many decades before rain starts falling regularly, will it? That ought to help turn Mars green too.”

“Well, if you include the comet deliveries, it's raining regularly already, but yeah, it's getting wetter more often; and that's good. That's one reason I don't want Mars Corp dissolved or destroyed. No Mars Corp, or Mars Corp fighting for its existence... that would be a disaster for terraforming.”

“You just want it to change.”

“Exactly. That makes your articles and your investigations pretty important, doesn't it? If you get it wrong, then you could break Mars Corp.”

“I certainly want to get it right.”

“You'd better.”

Minerva returned, looking a bit flustered. “I'm back. Crisis averted, mostly.”

“Lots of broken glass?” Alice asked.

“No, it went under the hedge and through the doorway. It wasn't even kicked — it just rolls down the hill if Jim doesn't put it away properly. But it did knock over the table-full of plants, which is almost worse.”

“And the neighbour's up in arms?”

“No, Mrs Jones was almost in tears. Her husband's always on at her to keep the door shut and she forgot; because of the slope, nine times out of ten the ball goes that way. If the door's shut then it bounces off, no harm done. Before you ask, it's their hedge and they don't want us to put a fence there for various reasons. Anyway, assigning blame is complicated and useless, but Jim's going to start re-potting the plants, then I'll go and help later on.”

“Is Jim any good at re-potting plants?” Evangeline asked.

“Not really. That's why I'm going to help.”

“Why don't we take over then, Min?” Evangeline suggested, “unless we need to read or write anything?”

“Oh! We could talk while we're doing it. You don't mind?” Minerva asked.

“Not at all,” Alice replied.