VISUAL EFFECTS / CH. 16:COMMUNICATIONS
NEWS ARTICLE, GLOBAL NEWS, MONDAY 27TH JUNE 2270
Intense pressure on space captains under scrutiny
The increasing furore over the botched maintenance of the new space transport Jupiter and what did and didn't happen when, is leading to numerous voices being raised about the pressure that captains of spacecraft are placed under. The spokesman for the Association of Space Workers stated that owners pile on pressure to put on all the cargo that the ship can legally carry, down to a few hundred grammes, in order to maximise profits; dispatchers press for quick departures; engineers press for delays in order to double-check systems; and so on. In the case of the Jupiter, the dispatcher appears to have actually requested clearance without the captain's say-so. There will, clearly be repercussions.
The dispatcher is now facing a criminal enquiry here on Earth, but Mars Corp's most senior captain, Captain Jules Kirkley of the Jupiter, has stated that given the lack of support from his employer and the pressure he's been under, he fully intends to resign his post on arrival at Mars Orbit. Captain Kirkley has visited Mars on more than ten occasions in the past and we understand that during his visits he's often been seen in the company of a certain member of the Mars Council.
We contacted the Mars Council and have just received this reply: 'The council is fully aware of Captain Kirkley's present difficulties and would be fully supportive of whatever decision he makes. As to your other questions, we remind you that full privacy is the right of all on Mars, so take your nosey questions elsewhere.” So, there you have it. We guess from the force of that reply there is a relationship there.
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NEWS ARTICLE: INTERNATIONAL ENQUIRER, 27TH JUNE
Chief captain to quit after series of Mars Corp errors
Mars Corp's most experienced captain Jules Kirkley, has declared that he will be resigning after the organisation's spokesman all but hung him out to dry for what is turning out to be the Mars-Corp scandal of the decade. First vital maintenance procedures were clearly ignored, and it took a member of public to spot that there was something seriously wrong with the Jupiter's engines. Then the dispatcher, impatient with how long he'd been kept from his coffee, decided to ignore all the right procedures and request departure clearance for the Jupiter before the Captain had been told that everything had been checked. Then, finally Mars Corp's spokesman decided the person to blame was their most experienced Captain. The captain had every expectation of his employer standing up for him, but instead he got the blame for something that was in no way his fault. This is not the attitude of an organisation that prides itself on earning it's good reputation, instead this is an organisation that wants to keep it's reputation, even if truth is the casualty. Clearly there are problems with governance in Mars Corp, and a corporate attitude that overlooks blunders and cuts corners has developed. Let us sincerely hope this attitude does not extend to anyone involved in the little game of cosmic billiards that Mars Corp are playing. Given the number of lives at risk, questions should be asked at the national and international levels.
The identity of the eagle-eyed member of the public who saved the S.T. Jupiter's name from infamy remains a mystery, but those of us who have relatives on-board, salute you, whoever you are.
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2PM, MONDAY 27TH JUNE
Cecilia cautiously approached Barry, the ship's purser, making sure that no one was around.
“Ms Thornthwaite, how may I help you?” he boomed in his normal voice.
“Well, keep the volume down, to start with, please.”
“You have a personal enquiry?” he asked, far quieter.
“Yes. I think I'm on board as a social case, but I don't know. And I'd like to, for obvious reasons, like I want avoid my plans falling to ashes.”
“Ah. Come into my office.”
Once she was inside, he looked up her file. He said “Ms Thornthwaite. You're not on board as social case. But before you despair, you're not being extradited as a criminal either. What you are is on probation. That's... unusual, shall we say. Most countries don't do that.”
“How does that work?”
“It should have all been explained to you.”
“I wasn't listening. I'd just been told I was going to Mars separately from my boyfriend, and my brains turned off.”
“Hmm. You realise that he is being deported, and will be treated as a dangerous criminal.”
“Yes.”
“And you'd do very well to stay away from him.”
“You don't know him.”
“I have some notes from his trial, attached to your records.”
“He promised me. He promised me that we'd give it one try his way, and if it didn't work then we'd go to Mars.”
“His way being armed robbery.”
“I didn't know.”
“This isn't your trial.”
“Honestly! I didn't know he was armed. He told me he was going to distract the owner, not shoot him! I saw the blood, it was terrible. That's why I drove us to the police station.”
“You say I don't know him,” Barry said, “but it seems you don't really either, if he shocked you so much. So, you were the get-away driver, and you have served your prison sentence for knowingly participating in a robbery. But for him it was a second conviction for armed robbery, and this time he almost killed the owner.”
“He panicked.”
“He almost killed someone. But anyway, your sentence was reduced for your role after the event, but you remain on probation. Do you understand what that means?”
“I need to be good.”
“Not just that. I mean, there's not really much temptation to commit a crime on a spaceship is there?”
“Unless I decide to knife someone for getting really really aggravating.” He looked at her sharply.
“It was meant to be a joke,” Cecilia said. “Inappropriate, wasn't it?”
“Very.”
“Sorry.”
“Ms Thornthwaite,” he started, not sure where to start.
“Call me Cecilia, please. The only people who call me 'Ms Thornthwaite' were social workers and policemen.”
“The role of purser is sort of a social worker,” Barry said.
“But not the 'take her away from her family' sort.”
“No.” He paused and tried again, “The terms of your parole, Cecilia. Do you have any idea what they say?”
“I tuned out,” she admitted, shaking her head.
“So... you're saying you signed a binding agreement with your government but have no idea what it says.”
“Sounds likely. My brain mostly turns off and I sign things or don't sign things. It happens all the time.”
Barry looked at her in astonishment. “If you don't listen to what they say, how do you decide on whether to sign or not?”
“The person's attitude. Are they trying to trick me, or are they trying to help.”
“And then you just feel free to break the agreements?”
She shrugged, “Not very. Depends how stupid they are.”
“So... you mean you sometimes agree to things, think it was stupid to sign up, and live with it?”
“Yeah.”
“Cecilia, can you tell me what led up to you signing it? What did you know?”
“They'd told me they were shipping Ralph to Mars. They knew I'd suggested that to Ralph earlier. They asked if I wanted to go, but that there was no way we'd be going together.”
“Hmm. What I want you do to is read something, then come back tomorrow when you're a bit calmer. I'm guessing it might be upsetting.”
“My parole terms?”
“Among other documents you signed, yes.”
He put a data-crystal in her hand and, noticing she had no wrist unit, opened a cupboard and pushed a reader towards her.
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4PM, 27TH JUNE
There was a chime at Alice and Simon's door, and then another. Someone was hammering on it.
Alice thumbed the release, it was Cecilia, her eyes red, and full of tears. Barry was behind her, looking concerned.
“Sorry,” Barry said, “my thought is that you're the closest thing to a friend Cecilia has on board so far, she agrees and she needs a friend right now.”
“They tricked me,” Cecilia said, and started crying again.
“Cecilia doesn't always read what she signs,” Barry explained.
“Bad?” Alice asked Barry as she put an arm around Cecilia.
“Objectively no, personally devastating I expect.”
“OK. Do you want Simon to go?” Alice asked Cecilia.
“No need. Tell them Barry.”
“Sure?”
“Do it.”
“Cecilia signed a release form, allowing the authorities to share what she'd signed with Ralph. That included a video statement that she'd been unaware that he'd had a previous conviction for armed robbery, that she was angry about that, and felt that he'd tricked and used her. It also included her terms of parole, one was that she agreed she wouldn't seek to contact him for the next five years.”
“Ouch,” Simon said, and forgetting that Cecilia probably heard thoughts, weighed her options and decided that she'd probably already lost Ralph for good.
“I'm in love with him!” Cecilia said, more tears flowed, and she buried her head in Alice's shoulder.
Alice became aware of Cecilia's thoughts and emotions as the fabric of her blouse became soaked with tears. She thought back [Let's not tell Barry I hear your thoughts, OK?] and spoke aloud, “I think I can take it from here, Barry.”
“Thanks,” and he kicked away towards his office, deciding he was very glad he didn't need to try and comfort a weeping woman.
Cecilia's thoughts gathered themselves, [You... you hear me?]
[I hear you. Simon would too, if he wasn't staying well clear.]
[Ralph can't. It's his only flaw.]
[{doubt} Other than a violent temper and a criminal record.] Alice thought [And hiding things from you.]
[Yeah.]
[Did he ever turn his temper on you?]
[I duck quickly.]
[Don't we all? So... he's tried to beat you up, he's tried to kill someone, and he deceives you?]
[Please don't tell me he's not the right man for me.]
[OK. Want to tell me more about those parole terms?] Alice asked.
[I'm not a social case, or being deported.]
[Urm, where does that leave you?]
[Full colonist, state-sponsored.] Cecilia replied.
[That's nice of the state.]
[But I agreed that if I break parole then my claim goes back to the council, all but five hectares. Council approved it, too, so it's all set in stone. I can't see him, I can't get a message to him.]
[Pretty tough conditions.] Alice summarised.
[Yeah. And I agreed to it.]
[What else is in the conditions?]
[I don't hang around any other criminals serving their time.]
[And?]
[I don't bring the nation or the monarchy into disrespect, or commit any robberies on Mars.]
[In other words, you get to put your criminal days behind you and have a clean start on Mars, without your abusive probably-ex boyfriend. What weapon?]
[Pardon?]
[I'm just thinking that if Ralph ever decided to stab you, you'd probably be OK, but if he decided to shoot you from a bit away, then there goes your quick reactions.]
Alice broke away. “He wouldn't. He loves me.”
“Enough to take a swipe at you. Why?”
“He was angry.”
“At you?”
“Yeah. I deserved it.”
“Why?” Simon asked.
“Spilt his soup.”
“On him?” Simon probed, “Deliberately?”
“No.”
“Ruining some prize possession?”
“Eh?”
“Did you ruin his best carpet, or something?”
“No. Just his soup.”
“And he'd been slaving over it for hours or something?”
“What? No. It was just an instant soup.”
“So...” Simon drew a breath and asked: “Cecilia, just why do you think you deserved a black eye or whatever he'd have given you?”
“You do things wrong, you get punished,” she said,
“Not where I come from,” Simon replied. “Where I come from, if you spill someone's soup, then you say sorry, you get forgiven, and then maybe you clean up the mess.”
“Sounds about right,” Alice agreed. “Hang on a moment,” she looked something up on her wrist unit. “Hmm, I know it's on here somewhere. There it is, I think, yes, that's it. Read this please.”
“What is it?”
“Something a friend of mine wrote about deserving punishment. What you said about the soup reminded me about it. Want a cup of tea?”
“Yes, please.”
“I'll get it,” Simon said, and headed to the communal kitchen. It wasn't going to be in actual cups, of course; the low gravity would have made that dangerous. But offering someone 'a plastic bubble of tea' just didn't sound right. Drinking tea through a straw didn't feel right either, but some things just couldn't be avoided. At least he was gaining control in the low apparent gravity.
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NEWS ARTICLE: INTERNATIONAL ENQUIRER, TUESDAY 28TH JUNE, 2270
Will S. T. Jupiter be stranded at Mars?
The promised resignation of the Jupiter's captain Kirkley on his arrival at Mars has led to a crisis at Mars Corp H.Q. The Jupiter's revolutionary new bridge design means that only officers who have had the necessary training, including a month of intensive training in a simulator, are qualified to captain the ship. The Jupiter's first and second officers are of course fully capable of flying the space ship, but the ship cannot leave port without a full captain on board, and the first officer does not have the years of experience to be promoted to that post. It might seem obvious to promote a more experienced first officer from another, similar ship, but the situation is the same on other ships. Mars Corp's so-called 'Captains of the future' policy has been to assign one senior captain and an otherwise young crew on the Jupiter-class vessels, a policy which seems to have seriously back-fired.
Currently, there are no experienced captains who have been trained on a Jupiter-class vessel. Mars Corp's list of simulator-qualified personnel with sufficient years of experience to be promoted to captain is also woefully short, and it seems there is no time to train anyone else on the simulator (in Earth orbit) before Earth rushes past Mars and getting to Mars becomes ridiculously difficult for another year.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The options seem to include presently inactive officers, (either retired, on sick-leave, or in one case, maternity leave), and the corporation's senior test pilot, Victoria Marsh, who is reportedly a good friend of the retiring captain Kirkley.
The role of senior test-pilot is not one which can remain unfilled without causing significant interruptions to other Mars Corp operations long into the future, and it seems unlikely that anyone would be willing to step aside after filling the role for two years. Thus asking Ms. Marsh to captain the Jupiter would be tantamount to asking her to retire from a role she reportedly loves, and would surely require a significant incentive.
Can Mars-Corp persuade Capt. Kirkley to stay in his post? The poor governance and lack of foresight at Mars Corp certainly seem likely to cost at least one senior executive their posts, perhaps if there are sufficient changes at the top Captain Kirkley will decide he can do one more tour before retiring.
In related news, an anonymous passenger on board the Celestia has contacted the Inquirer to suggest that the eagle-eyed passenger who saved so many lives is Dr Simon Findhorn-Bunting, who will be taking up a post at the Mars University's space-physics department. If this tip-off is true, it would certainly explain why the channel that broke this story has been so reticent to name him, as he is married to one of their journalists.
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PURSER'S OFFICE, TUESDAY, 28TH JUNE
“Hello, Cecilia,” Barry greeted her, and shut the door. “Thank you for keeping the appointment.”
“So, here I am.” He could sense her hostility.
“Yes. How are you?”
“A mess.”
“That's understandable, in the circumstances. Do you have any questions?”
“Not right now.”
“Do you understand why I asked you to come?”
“So you could confirm I've not stepped out of an airlock.”
“Checking on your well-being and being a listening ear is part of my role. By the way, even opening the inner door would sound an alarm.”
“Can I go?”
“If you want to. But I'd like to see you tomorrow.”
“I'm not planning on killing myself.”
“Good. I'd still like to see you.”
She shrugged, as she went to the door, “I'm not going anywhere.”
“So why do you want to leave?”
“Because I don't want you thinking I like being with you.”
Barry raised his eye-brows.
“In a room with a closed door,” she added.
“Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. It was for your privacy.”
“I bet.”
“Would it be better if I don't shut it tomorrow?”
“Much.”
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MESSAGE TO MR WILLIAM MAUGH, MARS CORP H.Q. SUNSOL, 28TH JUNE
William, I know I swore to never contact you again, but I've decided I'll make an exception. What is going on at Mars Corp? One captain resigning results in a ship being stranded or you losing your senior test pilot? Has the whole organisation come down with idiocy, or is this some subtle form of corporate suicide for tax reasons I'm not aware of?
Your still estranged sister, Eloise.
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MESSAGE TO ELOISE MAUGH, MARS. TUESDAY, 28TH JUNE
Dear Eloise,
It was so lovely to hear from you. In answer to your questions, here in the legal dept we have little understanding of the complexities of training; one would have hoped however that H.R. and accounting ought to have a better grasp. There is little I can tell you that's not in the press, but I assure you there are no plans I've heard of for corporate suicide. I have not heard anyone planning a little informal dentistry on certain staff members, because if I had heard it then I'd have had to take action. It does seem more likely, however.
Speaking of the Findhorn-Buntings (now on their way to you on the Celestia) just before boarding Alice told me you work at the Mars Council these days. Congratulations, might your big brother know what role? I'm sure you'll take heart that she votes the Council rather than the Corp as de-facto government; that certainly ruffled some feathers here, but as she seems to not be planning to destroy Mars Corp or the Martian economy we continue to wish her a long life. If you happen to run into her, assure her that I've passed on her cryptic message to the board and upper management.
With love,
William
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MESSAGE TO ALICE FINDHORN-BUNTING, CELESTIA. MONSOL, 29TH JUNE
Dear Mrs Findhorn-Bunting,
we've never been in contact but it seems you've been talking to my brother. Do I take it your contact with him was in his professional role as a bully? He tells me that you told him I work for the Council now. Does that mean he actually asked after me? If so, I'm touched. I must admit to curiosity about some of his other cryptic comments, and I guess that I ought to ask you about them sometime. Eloise Maugh,
Secretary to the Mars Council.
p.s. He writes that he delivered your message to the board and upper management.
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“Evangeline, any ideas how I should reply to this?” Alice asked.
“Hmm. Letters from the secretary to the council, eh?” Evangeline said.
“That's a pretty important job isn't it?”
“Quite important, yes. It's certainly not a good idea to upset her.”
“But I assume I don't trust the communications system,” Alice said.
“No,” Evangeline agreed.
“So, would she be a good person to ask if I want to be accredited by the council too?”
“Well, I guess you could do that.”
“Can I mention your name, too?”
“Of course.”
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MESSAGE TO ELOISE MAUGH, MARS COUNCIL, WEDNESDAYMONSOL 29TH JUNE.
Dear Eloise,
feel free to call me Alice. It'd be lovely to meet up once we've arrived. We'll be staying with the family of my friend Evangeline Durrel-Peebles, rather than in a Mars Corp dome. Simon and I count ourselves blessed that they're willing to open their home to us and of course Evangeline has been full of good advice about packing to live on Mars. It is a truly scary thought that we might have chosen the Jupiter rather than the Celestia if not for her advice and her father's good experience on what must have been almost her maiden trip.
Your brother told me about you because he wanted to establish that he had a personal interest in my work — at that time I think he thought I might be investigating some corrupt official. In case you're wondering, I only told him that you were now working for the Council, not your exact role. I do rather expect that his initial plan was to approach as a bully, as if he held all the aces, but he saw reason quite quickly. I'm not making any secret about my plans to shatter some prejudices on Earth about life on Mars, and to help Earthlings come to appreciate Martian culture, and I do think folk music has a lot to offer in that area. If William saw that as a cryptic message, far be it from me to dissuade him.
One aspect of William's initial approach to my employer was shouldn't I get myself accredited by the 'de-facto government of Mars'. Well, if you've read my latest piece you can see where thinking about that phrase took me.
The contract they wanted me to sign was a complete joke, and your brother was quite reasonable about replacing it with one that actually allows me journalistic freedoms. One might hope that Mars Corp technicians have read the relevant U.N. charter of rights, but I wouldn't assume it myself. Wouldn't it be ironic if William ended up enforcing standards in that area?
Anyway, I would like to be an accredited journalist with the real de-facto government of Mars, but Evangeline was for once at a total loss as to if there's any such category in law there. In case there isn't, I'll attach the contract William kindly came up with after some discussions with my channel's legal team, as a discussion starter. I must say your brother is very efficient at this sort of thing, and our legal team went over it with a fine toothed comb and didn't find anything to quibble about at all. Oh, I'm attaching a picture I found in our archives showing a Mr W. Maugh, (third from the right, front row), taken soon after Mars Corp was founded. Might he have been a relative of yours, do you know? looking forward to meeting you,
Alice Findhorn-Bunting
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TUESOL, 30TH JUNE, 9AM
Eloise read the message again, and looked at the picture, which did indeed show her grandfather. So... William discovered he didn't have all the aces, and turned into a pussy cat. And Alice doesn't know her left from her right, or her front row from back... She shook her head, it didn't make much sense. Why would this seemingly intelligent woman make such obvious mistake as that? It wasn't as if the names weren't there. Had she been thinking of another picture?
Eloise looked at her other pictures from the same era, and found one where her grandfather was indeed in the place mentioned, beside the contract. Eloise's eyes skimmed over the blurred eight points of the contract, no, hold on. What were those extra clauses doing there? Zooming in, she was able to make out some of the words. It was too blurred to read most of them. Oh, Alice, she thought to herself, you do seem to be quite a clever person indeed. And you're planning to persuade Earthlings that Mars isn't all made of criminals, are you? Oh, well done you!
She told her assistant she was going out and went to see the chairman of the council.
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10AM, TUESOL 30TH JUNE
Mack Fischer was feeling distinctly bored, at home as he was with a long drawn out virus, so he wasn't at all unhappy to see Eloise Maugh asking to come in.
“Welcome. I don't think I'm contagious, but if it's paperwork I might be.”
“I've just had an old family photo pointed out to me in a wonderfully underhand manner. Would you like to see an interesting photo?” Eloise asked.
“How interesting?”
“I guess I'd better back up a bit. You know my brother's Mars Corp's heavy duty lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“He had a run-in with a journalist, and reading between the lines he's come away looking like a tame cat, not a lion.”
“Urm, sorry. Don't get that metaphor.”
“Urm... he came away looking small and inoffensive.”
“Must be a new experience for him.”
“Yes. Well, for reasons best known to himself, he pointed me in her direction. I don't know, maybe it was a peace offering. Anyway, she wrote and asked 'is the W. Maugh third from the right in the front row your relative?' But grandad Maugh in this photo is in the back row on the left. I wondered if she was thinking of another picture. Here's another one from the same press release. Notice what's in the background.”
“Settlement contract.” Mack said.
“Yes. Notice anything about it?”
Mack's eyes opened wide, “You've got photographic evidence of the missing clauses! You can't really make out what they say, of course, but they're there!”
“Correction; An established and respected, one might even say feared, journalist has photographic evidence of the missing clauses. The photo she sent me is much clearer than this, by the way, so I guess their archive got the full quality version.”
“Why aren't there copies all over the press?”
“Among other things, she's says she hoping to alter some prejudices on Earth. I guess she's trying to time it right.”
“If only we could get her talking to the right people... Without anyone listening in on the line.”
“Didn't I say? It's Alice Findhorn-Bunting, she's on her way here. And she's planning to investigate the folk-music scene, apparently.”
“Is she now? I wonder who she's been talking to.”
“Someone called Evangeline Durrel-Peebles, apparently.”
Mack laughed, “I should have known. Oh, good for her! Little Evangeline's come through! 'scuse me, I've got to make some visits.”
“Don't tire yourself out, Mack.”
“Ha! I'm as fit as a fiddle with this news.”
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DURREL HOME COMPLEX, 11.AM, TUESOL 30TH JUNE
“Hi Anna!” Mack called as he arrived.
“Hi Mack, to what do I owe the pleasure, etcetera? You were awfully vague when you called. Can I get you a drink?”
“Water please. You never told me that little Eva's research has come through.”
“Has it? I wasn't sure. She's always so cagey.”
“She's friends with a journalist who's dropping clever hints that she's planning to publish the missing clauses once she's persuaded Earth we're not all crims.”
“Alice, you mean? Sounds a lovely young woman. She's going to be staying with us.”
“No one tells me anything.” Mack complained.
“I didn't know there was anything to say, Mack. I knew the four of them are going to try growing plants with hydroponics, and that she wants to talk to people in the folk-music scene and write some of that up, as well as working at the university. That's about it, really.”
“Growing plants with hydroponics?”
“Yes. It's not sustainable, but our parents knew it can work, Mack. It seems like an excellent way to kick-start a heap. If I was your cousin I'd say it's all a big conspiracy that people go through that cutting off their hair thing.”
“My cousin? Oh, Jim, you mean? Maybe it is. What do you mean about staying with you?”
“Work in exchange for food, Earthling cash in exchange for accommodation until their complex gets built and can be made livable. Strangely enough, Evangeline doesn't like the thought of her friends needing to eat gloop, or building more cages for jits. I guess if Alice is onto the missing clauses, she doesn't want to write things Mars Corp might not like in a big dome, either.”
“Not the ideal place to write, no. You think she's going to write about the hydroponics?”
“I expect so. I wonder what Mars Corp will think,” Anna asked sarcastically.
“On the other hand, it'd make life much nicer for people, wouldn't it?”
“And increase the immigration pressure, yes, not to mention devalue the currency. Oh, Eva wrote something I've been meaning to show you. I couldn't make much sense of it, but you might be able to.”
“And there I was thinking I was going to be convalescing the rest of the week.”
“How are you doing, Mack?”
“Feeling alive right now. It's mostly the paperwork that really tires me out. Not to mention having to think about what to eat.”
Anna laughed “Well, far be it from me to wear out the head of the council. Stay for lunch, Tom'll want to chat I'm sure, as long as you're not too tired. Speaking of which, I don't need any help in the kitchen, so I'm going to banish you to the lounge in about half an hour.”
“Thanks, Anna. So, what's this mystery?”
“It was talking about the currency. She wrote that she was now a convinced reformer, which she's always been, and then there was the confusing bit. I'll get it.” Anna sorted through her messages and eventually found it. “Here it is. 'I think the question isn't really about convincing Jimmy, it's more about timing. Oh, an interesting thing I learned recently “Read number 27, it's a screamer” in Earthling English means 'it's incredibly funny', so I don't think we'd use it about Jupiter's appendicitis. Well, I guess some people might think it works for them.'”
“Convincing Jimmy?”
“Yes, but why does she want to convince Benjamin about anything?”
“You're thinking of the wrong Jimmy, Anna. Think of the song: convincing Jimmy it's not a music box, it's a screamer.”
Anna went cold. “And there's a storm coming. You don't need to convince him, you need to act? And the question is timing?”
“Your daughter is sending you scary messages, Anna.”
“So what's the thing about Jupiter's appendicitis about?” she asked.
“I don't know. Why she's writing about the Jupiter having problems with it's appendix, that was its gimbaling system,” Mack said, “It's all beyond me, I'm afraid. Not to mention what's so urgent about reading number twenty seven, what ever that is.”
“Hold on... appendix twenty seven. Alice has mentioned that. Something about cargo.”
“On the Jupiter?” Mack was confused.
“It's some kind of document for all ships,” Anna explained.
“Hmm. I presume we can find out why it's important then.”
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MARS COUNCIL OFFICES, 4PM, TUESOL 30TH JUNE
Mack Fischer knocked on Eloise's office door. “Eloise, as keeper of knowledge and understanding, can you tell me what appendix twenty-seven is all about?”
“Oh wow... I used to know this. The twenties are cargo manifests, I know that. I think twenty-seven is bulk cargo, would that make sense?”
“Would it be public?”
“If it's bulk-cargo, yes. Passengers wanting to carry things on the list, like sheet metal, standard sizes of tubing, and so on can just add it to the pile, or even just pay for some extra through purchasing and then get stuff out on arrival.”
“Then could you please get me appendix twenty-seven for the Celestia and the Jupiter?”
“No problem. Then you're going to have a rest?”
“Hey. I've had a restful lunchtime!”
“Really?”
“Yes. I visited my friends the Durrels and they fed me then made me spend two or three hours lying down.”
“Oh all right. Here, let me put your data on a crystal.”
“And this ought to show the amounts, or just the categories?”
“Rough amounts, if I remember correctly.”
“And they don't ever do something like put all the tubing in one ship?”
“No! They don't want to have a double disaster if a ship misses. I expect that between those two, you'll get most things they're shipping bulk. Oh, whoops, I got the Titan's list instead of the Jupiter. It's organised by departure day, you see.”
“Oh well, I'm sure that'll be interesting too. Can you get me the Jupiter's too?”
“No problem at all. Here.”
“That's fast,” he commented.
“It's just a text file.”
“Lovely. I just hope I notice what someone wants me to see,” Mack commented.
“You don't know what you're looking for?” Eloise was surprised.
“Not really.”
“Because someone doesn't trust Mars Corp's communication channels?”
“Exactly,” he said. “Would you?”
“Of course not,” Eloise said, “I used to work there.”
“What did make you abandon your job there?”
“My brother broke a rule.”
“Oh, some unspecified family 'thou shall not...'?”
“Yes,”
“I don't quite understand why that'd make you move job.”
“The rule was 'thou shall not try to convince your sister to leave her home and new friends by telling her that you know her employer's a skunk, even though you're still working for them.'”
“Ah.”
“But I can't tell you what exactly he told me, or I'd be breaking another family rule: you don't get your brother thrown in jail, even if he's a dirty toe-rag and you're not talking to him.”
“Hmm. What makes you think him putting you in contact with that journalist might be a peace offering?”
“Well, he did say something about wishing her a long life because she 'was not planning to destroy Mars Corp or the Martian economy'. My impression was that made her someone we need to talk to.”
“Hmm. The Martian economy, eh? You studied economics, didn't you?”
“For my sins, yes.”
“What would destroy an economy?”
“I hope he was exaggerating.”
“What if he wasn't?” Mack didn't want to tell her what Eva's message had said.
“To really mess up an economy, you need to put people out of work, whole-scale. I guess getting Mars Corp shut down would do that.”
“Oh, OK,” Mack said, feeling relieved. But just in case, he checked: “Would anything currency-related do it?”
“Of course,” Eloise said as though it was the most obvious question, “if you muck about with the currency then you could cause a boom or bust, like the chaos years back on Earth. Mass unemployment, exports suffer, and so on.”
“Well, I don't imagine there's much that'll make our currency go unstable until plants grow outside. People will always want compost.”
“Well, some people will. Not having a family to feed or expansionist plans, I've got plenty.”
“How did you get your heap started? Mars Corp gave you some imported plant matter?”
“No, actually I grew lots of plants, chopped them up and mixed in some good soil.”
“That's not the normal approach for a new arrival either.”
“Ah, no,” Eloise said, embarrassed at her old employer's tactics.
“So, Mars corp are saying one thing to employees, and another to normal jits?” Mack summarised.
“Yes,” she said, red-faced. This was getting too close to what William had sent her: the rationale behind Mars Corp's policy of deliberately mis-informing newcommers. It had boiled down to a strategy of building up people's sense of dependence on the corporation in that first critical year, after which they depended on Mars Corp for other areas too.
“And you grew your plants using some kind of advance payment of goodstuff?”
“Not exactly. Nutrient solutions.”
“Hydroponics,” he said, as a chill raced down his spine. It was connected.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“How much nutrient solution did it take to start your heap?”
“Not much. Less than a litre of concentrate.”
“And it gave you, what, ten kilos of compost?”
“Oh, more than that, but I didn't measure it carefully.”
Mack came to the crunch question, “Knowing what you know, and in the context of a journalist planning to publicise her experiments in hydroponics on Mars, would you vote to abandon the bio-matter standard in a referendum?”
“An honest answer?” Eloise asked, “Not by preference.”
“No?”
“No, don't have a referendum. Campaigning takes too much time and effort. And people might not make the right decision.”
“Oh. What would you prefer?”
“Discuss it in council, persuade people it's just got to happen.”
“Or?”
“If Alice really doesn't get her mixing right, she might get ten or twenty kilos of plant matter from a kilo of nutrients. I expect she'll get more. If people start doing the same thing, then I can imagine everyone arriving with enough to make their first few harvests within a few months. Then, maybe they'll decide to move out of the big domes much sooner? I don't know.”
“I can't believe no one's done this before.”
“They have,” Eloise said, “According to gossip, a few every year bring in chemicals. The Corp can tell from their cargo list, of course. The people get asked to keep quiet about it, with various comments about bragging about how big their heap is being a really rude thing to do, and it causing a lot of envy from their neighbours if they try it in the big dome, why don't they move out into a private dome before they start doing those sorts of experiments?”
“So, Mars Corp want to keep a lid on it.”
“Of course,” Eloise said “Can't go stirring up social unrest, can we?”
“And yet your brother says Alice isn't going to trash our economy?”
“If she publishes, say in the next year, then everyone arriving afterwards will be bringing nutrients, and I presume she'll tell them to use appendix 27.”
“You think nutrients will be listed there?”
“Of course. Mars Corp need to feed the gloop loops.”
“That can't be what I'm meant to see,” Mack said.
“You're sure you're rested?”
“Fairly.”
“Then let's draw up a list of what we think Mars Corp should be importing, and then compare it with what they are.”
“Why do it that way?”
Eloise grinned, “A little trick my mother taught me. It's easier to see if anythings missing if you do it that way round.”
“OK. Right, well, they'll have tubes and stuff for the gloop-loops. We know they're expanding it. And then they need nutrients for it. Machinery parts, probably a few new reactors?”
“Probably,” Eloise agreed, “along with whatever else they need for factories. Oh, plant matter to pay people, of course, assuming the conspiracy theorists aren't actually right after all about them diluting goodstuff.”
“But we've looked into that,” Mack said “and the numbers don't work. Goodstuff is good. Medicines, dressings, gold for their own use, would that show up?”
“I doubt they'd consider those bulk, but maybe.”
“Cloth?”
“Probably not, but I'll write them down. Dome frameworks?”
“All locally made except the nuts and bolts,” Mack said.
“So, loads of nuts and bolts,” Eloise said and jotted that down, “At which point, I'm out of ideas.”
“Gas bottles, breathers, filters.”
“Of course! Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of. Can we look?”
Five minutes later, Eloise was looking puzzled, and Mack had a feeling of impending doom. He understood Eva's message loud and clear now. Appendix 27 was a screamer indeed, he saw. Mars Corp must be laughing themselves sick. Don't waste time convincing Jimmy about currency reform, there was a storm coming.
“Eloise, tell me, what do you think?”
“The conspiracy theorists can't be right. We proved it.”
“No. They're probably not. But what would happen if people were told that their pay wasn't based on imported plants and other biomatter, and that though it cost something, it didn't cost Mars Corp nearly as much to get it here as they said?”
Eloise still looked puzzled, but said, “if people start distrusting the currency, then you've got a ruined economy alright. I'm missing something, aren't I?”
“Yes. Hopefully most of the rest of the population will too. Don't discuss this with anyone, please. And call an emergency council meeting.”
“People'll want to know what's so urgent. There's one on Thursol, anyway.”
Mack groaned. “OK, how about if we push everything on the agenda to other business?”
“That'll cause comments and protests too,” Eloise pointed out.
“So, how do we get everything on the agenda into last place?”
“Chairman's report?”
“Usually comes somewhere below coffee in people's priorities. I want people listening, not reading their favourite cartoons.”
“So, put an item on the agenda called currency reform?”
“Even less interesting that my reports.” He rubbed his face, he was getting too tired for this. “I know what I'll do. Put in an emergency agenda item, 'Chairman's health and its implications.'”
“You're not going to resign, surely?”
“I'm getting tired already, Eloise. Half an hour's excitement and I'm flaking. So, maybe it'd be worth asking the council if they think I should keep the job, and point out that there's a storm coming, a bad one.”
“OK. I'll put that in, and then I'll drive you home.”