Kerry waved him over to their table in the cafeteria—located, Hao noted with relief, in a corner tucked away from the large, reinforced windows that looked out onto the Utopia Planitia.
“Hey there tough guy. Heard you had a good day.”
Hao nodded a greeting as he sat down across from Jamey, cradling his glass of lukewarm and slightly stale juice. “Just glad to see we’re making progress.” he said.
“I bet Rho is a real slave driver huh?” Jamey said loudly, as the accused joined them.
“You are forbidden to respond to that question.” Rho said in a serious tone, before laughing.
Hao took a sip of his orange juice, savoring the liquid on his palate for as long as possible before swallowing.
They tried to keep the conversation away from work, though there was scant recreation in their lives, and almost nobody in the colony did much beyond work and sleep. Even Hao’s sporadic Jiu Jitsu sessions with Jamey had come to an end. Eventually, unable to contain further anxiety, Hao turned to Kerry.
“Do you have another trip to the fueling station planned?”
She nodded. “A few days from now. Me and Jamey.”
“Is that for the new fueling procedure? For the incoming ships?” Rho asked, her brow furrowed. “Did they sort out all the wrinkles?”
“Well it’s getting there, but that’s why they need another crew to launch and handle the test procedures.”
“They’re really playing catch up with all the extra traffic they have planned.” Rho replied in a cooler tone that caused Hao to watch her carefully. “Why is that?” he asked
“Well,” Kerry began, “They want the fastest possible trajectory to Mars, but they still haven’t figured a direct entry path that doesn’t… um… explode in the atmosphere. This means the transfer is very fuel intense, so the best solution right now is to have the incoming ship dock, refuel, then land.”
“With a station cobbled together from spare parts.” Jamey noted.
“Yes, but you know we’ll get it sorted out. We always find a solution. The colony needs to grow.”
Rho nodded, but she remained subdued.
“Oh, and we’ll meet Martell up there—his ship will be our guinea pig!”
“I know.”
“It’s his first belly flop isn’t it? Gosh, how do you think he’ll handle it?”
“Oh.” Rho waved her hand. “He’ll love it. He flies wingsuits and drives motorbikes way too fast and anything else he can get a buzz from. It drives me crazy, but he loves to find that edge.”
“I think I still have the imprints from my armrests carved into my hands, I was gripping so tight.” Jamey laughed.
“You just need to do it a few more times, learn to trust the technology.” Kerry said encouragingly. “I bet Hao didn’t even blink, right?” she smiled warmly at him.
Hao couldn’t recall much of the Martian atmospheric entry and landing experience beyond an intense longing that it would be a quick death. However, the sleepless nights afterward were certainly etched into his memory, together with a fervent hatred of the colony for its longstanding alcohol ban.
“As you say, it’s amazing technology.” He smiled.
They soon agreed that their social time was overrunning the reasonable limit and began to leave for their quarters.
“Maybe when I get back we can do another Jiu Jitsui sesson?” Kerry said to Hao as she left. “In this low gravity I feel like a superhero!”
As he was standing to leave, Rho stopped him.
“You know relationships aren’t banned on the colony don’t you?” she asked.
Hao sighed before replying. “Well, I’m not sure I agree that it’s the best idea to start a relationship in this kind of environment.”
“Why not?”
“There’s just so much work and, well, it’s quite stressful. I’ve always found relationships to be difficult, even in a comfortable environment. But out here…” he shook his head.
“You never relax – you’re always worried you’ve forgotten something critical that you can’t recall?”
Hao nodded.
“Just my opinion, but all this fun flying around the solar system has us forgetting the basics sometimes. Humans solve problems together, not separately.”
She gave him a hug and left him alone in the canteen. He reflected for some time, refusing as ever to look out the observation window.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The silence of the desert filled Hao’s ears, broken only by the muted and distant clanking of the drill assembly—quiet suggestions that he was still connected to a real world. He breathed the same stale air of a suit he had been working in for hours, grateful that it at least kept him cool. The fabric under-suit did a good job of wicking away sweat, to be vented by the outer suit, and this was all the comfort he could expect. Unlatching the interface cover on his arm, he gripped the aluminum plate between the bulky plastic suit fingers and lifted it up. It was another sequence in the endless dance of slow, deliberate, and considered gestures that defined their lives. He tapped the controls until the display showed ‘suit temp.’ and pushed the down arrow until he had lowered the number by half a degree. He knew that the work to follow would require exertion and wanted to be prepared.
Next, he turned to the rover, and began the process of unwinding each of the rubber hoses that would connect to the drill. Every step of the procedure was laborious—executed slowly as they checked every connection and smoothed out any kinks in the line. While on Earth they might have thrown equipment around with careless skill, on mars they moved like stiff robots. Once he was sure the evacuation lines were connected to the assembly, Hao began threading the heating element into the drill string. Rho stood by the rover, patiently awaiting his signal to activate the reactor.
“Okay ready to go.” he radioed, and she flipped the switch. A delay of silence was followed by the usual faint buildup of shrieking steam flowing back through the lines into the water trailer, and Hao had almost started to relax when he realized there was a new sound—a strange, repetitive clicking noise.
“Do you hear that?” he radioed to Rho.
“Hear what?”
Approaching the drill assembly, Hao saw the feed line start to vibrate violently.
“Uh-” he began, but was cut short as the thick tubing ripped itself free from the assembly, immersing his suit in boiling steam and knocking him off his feet. He came down hard against the rocks—felt something in his suit snap. Overhead a giant enraged snake thrashed through the air as the steam, escaping from the trailer, turned the line’s destroyed nozzle into a rocket engine.
The snake struck the ground by his head, and Hao tensed for the end. Again it smashed close by him and he knew that the next one must surely strike his body, pulverizing organs, cracking bone, or shattering his helmet to leave him suffocating in the thin air.
Then it stopped, falling lifelessly to the ground. Ducking beneath the thrashing serpent, Rho had managed to reach the shut off valve. Now she was on top of him, checking his suit for leaks while he desperately fought the urge to vomit into his helmet. He slowly became aware that she was calling his name through the radio.
“My suit’s leaking” he replied urgently. “I can hear air escaping.”
“I can’t find a leak.”
“I can hear it” he insisted. “Help me!”
“Your suit pressure is stable, Hao, you’re not leaking.”
He paused, trying to isolate the sounds from the blood pounding in his ears. Was the whining noise his imagination—concocting his worst fear just to torment him?
“One of your ventilators is broken. That’s what you’re hearing. You’re okay, Hao, we’re both okay.”
The danger gone, Hao felt adrenaline flush into his veins and he began to shake violently.
“We need to go back!” he stammered. “I’m going to throw up!”
Rho hauled him upright and took him to the Rover, but once he was sat down, she only stood there, watching him.
“Please! Let’s go!” he urged.
“Control your breathing—like we practiced, remember?”
“I can’t handle it!”
“You can and you will.” Rho snapped. “Breath slowly.”
He forced himself to do so, though he hated her for not driving them away from the dark and evil place.
“Where were you born? Answer the question.”
“Haiphong”
“What date?” she kept up the questions, asking him about his early life and family, forcing him to access his long-term memory. As the minutes passed he felt himself growing calmer, though the fear shot through his body like electricity.
“Drink some water, take some time.” Rho told him, her tone now soothing and encouraging. She left his side to tend to the ruined drill assembly.
Once the shaking subsided, he grew ashamed of himself, smacking his fist against the rover’s roof in anger. Rho returned holding the destroyed nozzle.
“Looks like you locked it in tightly enough, the screws are nice and tight—just sheared off.”
“How is that possible?”
“Faulty screws, or a bad design. Could be anything. We need to get back to a lab to find the answer.”
“Okay. I can help you pack up the trailer.”
“Nope. We’re not leaving.” Her lips curled into a grim smile. “If we spend a couple of days trying to figure this out, the colony will run through its surplus and be at risk in the event of another problem. We’ll dig a new hole, and try again.”
“You can’t be serious Rho! What if the other line breaks the same way?”
“It could do, but we know we’ve done dozens of successful extractions before a failure, so I think the odds are on our side.”
“Oh God.”
“I’ll handle the drill, and you going to stand next to the kill valve watching like a hawk, right?”
Hao nodded reluctantly, conscious that it was an acceptable risk.
The next extraction went smoothly, though Hao was slower, checking everything three or four times, and even then, never finding his previous confidence. With incredible relief, he sank back into the Rover’s seat for the last time that day.
“I’m sorry for… earlier” he managed, as they made the drive back.
“You’re sorry for not being a cold, granite statue in the face of danger?” she chuckled. “I think you can give yourself a break.”
“I lost control.”
“You were nearly killed. We both were. That’s a tough thing to have to deal with.”
“Thank God you kept your head. Jesus, I should have-”
“Don’t do that to yourself. It’s over. There’s no such thing as time travel, and if you fixate on it, you will make yourself miserable.”
Hao paused, unable to respond.
“Think about lessons learned for next time.” Rho finished.
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Inside the colony they were met with grim, teary-eyed faces. Small groups of people huddled in corners, talking quietly. Most of them appeared to be in shock. As they looked up and saw Rho, they turned wide-eyed. An administrator hurried up to them and pulled them into his office.
“I’m so sorry to tell you this Rho.” He began. “There’s been an explosion on the fueling station. We’ve lost contact, but a nearby satellite took a photo and…” he gulped, unsure how to continue.
“Martell…” Rho began and hung her head. She had known from the minute she entered the colony.
“Were there any survivors?” Hao asked gently.
“No, it doesn’t seem possible. The station was completely destroyed, together with the arriving ship.”
Hao thought back to Martell’s passionate speeches about space travel, to Kerry’s infectious smile and kind heart, and Jamey’s boisterous self-confidence, and loyalty. He prayed they had died quickly.
“Please, if there’s anything I can do…” the administrator offered, but Rho wasn’t listening, staring off into space as she struggled to hold back tears.