Martian Dawn

Part 2, Chapter 10: Straight to the Source

March 2053, Mars Year 53.

Dawn sat in the radio room, wearing her old, familiar jumpsuit, with a thermal mug of her favorite energy drink at her elbow (blueberries for sweetness, blue-green algae for the b-vitamins, and a caffeine tablet because, of course.)

"Solar panels, 40 watt, package of 10," a voice crackled over the radio.

She depressed the talk button and repeated the answer back. Then, she checked that item off the manifest on her screen. A team of six was on the surface, unpacking the first resupply probe of the MY52 launch window and storing the new supplies and equipment in the Garage. So far, it was mostly solar panels.

That was expected. A lot more people were coming, so they'd need more power. Solar panels were a lot of work to keep clean in the dusty Martian wind. The job of sweeping them mostly belonged to St. Brendan, a Sojourner-class rover, which spent 90% of its time rolling up and down the array, blowing the panels off with an air compressor. That's why....

"One Sojourner-class rover, with packaging," the radio announced.

"Sojourner rover in packaging, check," replied Dawn, and checked it off the list. The manifest listed three of them. The other two were probably packaged symmetrically around the probe to balance the load.

"One flywheel energy storage unit, experimental."

"Experimental flywheel, check." Every time a new probe landed, they could expect to get at least three things they'd never seen before. The various space agencies and universities were always sending new gadgets to be tested in Martian conditions. Prior to this, they'd stored their electricity in lithium batteries, and more recently, fuel cells. Now, they were going to try a flywheel. Theoretically, once it was completely spun up, it would keep spinning through an entire Martian winter and lose only half its angular velocity. That definitely sounded good.

Michael entered the room through the doorway to Dawn's left. She glanced at him. He pointed to the other console and then tapped his ear. Dawn nodded her understanding. She picked up the headset from the hook on the edge of the desk, put it on and activated it. "Comm check," she said into the mic. All six surface team members confirmed they could hear her.

Dawn tilted her second screen, just slightly, so she could surreptitiously watch Michael in the reflection. He sat down and began composing an email. She twisted in her seat, as though stretching sore muscles, and took a quick glance at the subject line. As she'd suspected, it had to do with the Aguila. It almost always did, these days.

Turning back to her console, she brought up a command line and tapped in a few commands. A window popped up, mirroring Michael's screen. She minimized it, hastily. She didn't want him to know she knew how to do something like this, let alone that she was doing it now. It was a trick she'd learned from her GrAnnie.

Watching Michael in the reflection, she made the window just big enough to read what he was writing.

Regarding the mini nuclear reactor that is tentatively scheduled to arrive in advance of the Aguila, while the prospect of ample power is very exciting, I'm concerned for the safety during the landing phase. Our long-term record for successful landings is just over 94%. In the event of a crash landing, will we have to be concerned with radiation leakage? What protocols will be in place to minimize this danger?

Regarding the possibility that some of Aguilar's crew may need translators. That, in itself, is not a problem. There are plenty of people here who speak all the languages mentioned, in particular Spanish. What is more concerning is the background information for those thirty individuals. According to the information I received, many of them do not have college educations, and they are being trained on the job. May I ask what criteria got them selected for inclusion in this mission? What job does he have in mind for them? To be frank, many of us here have concerns regarding Aguilar's vision for Mars, and these selections only add to those concerns. Any insight into his thinking would be appreciated.

Michael hit the SEND button, and Dawn closed the window before he could turn away from his console and leave the room.

The email was interesting to Dawn both for the information it contained and for Michael's reaction to it. For one thing, if the Aguila crew was not going to speak English, Dawn had better concentrate on her language studies. Alonso and her other teachers would appreciate that. But Michael seemed very concerned by the fact that they wouldn't have college degrees. It was certainly new. Every adult on Mars had at least one college degree. Most had two or more. She supposed it was a good question. Why?

It occurred to her that if Michael wanted to know what Aguilar was thinking, he was asking the wrong people. Maybe there was some diplomatic or procedural reason he couldn't go to the source. Michael was all about diplomacy and procedure. That was pretty much his job, anymore.

"Solar panels, ten, forty watt, check," she parroted into the mic, as she pulled up her own email account, and did a search for the personal email address of Roberto Serrano-Aguilar.

Dear Sr. Aguilar, my name is Dawn Joysree Heinke, and I live in Terra Aurora, Mars. You might have heard of me...