2023-2024 WBWC Featured Author: Aaron Stone, "The Great Frontier"
"The Great Frontier", by Aaron Stone.
Aaron is an avid science fiction reader and loves to watch classic science fiction television shows and movies. He is inspired by the written works of Larry Niven, Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, Karen Traviss, Mark E Cooper, Jay Lake, and James S. A. Corey among others. Some of his top films are the Alien films (Sigourney Weaver), The Thing, Contact, Ironman, Blade Runner, Star Trek, old-school Star Wars, and Demolition Man. He is a scientist and researcher at heart and likes spending time in nature and the outdoors.
Summary: Hector is a young adult trying to survive and secure a future for himself. He believes that future may be on Mars.
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1 │ Blood Ties
The train hits a bump startling Hector in his seat. He stares blankly at the floor, like everyone else. Nobody looks up to meet the gaze of the overseer camera systems installed in the transit system. Hiding in plain sight, being like everyone else, is a survival game. He had to be still, fighting hard the desire to fidget. He can’t shake the scene out of his mind. Anger, shock, helplessness, and surrealism all overwhelming him to disbelief. How could it have happened? Why was it done? The train rounds another bend and sunlight shines in the window creating blinding reflections off the shiny metal in the cabin, he winces. Over and over in his mind the scene replays – the murder of Maria, Hector’s mother.
Hector was watching TV in the small living room of the one-bedroom government apartment in Mountain View which he shares with his mother. Maria had the bedroom while Hector slept on the couch. Hector worked night shift doing odd jobs and courier work for The Union, a local gang, when he could so being awake in the early morning hours was more usual than not. He heard a knock at the door and went to see who it was. Sometimes his 20-year-old friend Javier would come by and they would quietly have a few beers and smoke while his mother slept. Hector was 19, but could get most regulated substances as a perk for his work with The Union.
As he leaned into the peephole the door was kicked in and smashed into his face hard, stunning and knocking him over. Several goons from The Union barged in and began ransacking the small apartment. They woke his mother and threw her to the floor while others ransacked her room. Hector was forced onto the couch along the far wall by two goons, he helplessly fought at them and yelled while two others taped his mother to one of the two rustic dining chairs. Neighbors kept to themselves, none came to their aid nor called the Equity Police. They gagged her and turned out the overhead lights leaving only the blue glow of the TV to cast stark shadows on the walls. Dave, an enforcer for The Union, strutted into the apartment, and looked straight at Hector, while pointing a knife at Maria.
“What did I tell ya? You are a grunt, you do what we say or else. We give you work, we provide the “extras” the government doesn’t think you need. We’ve been good to you holmes, and she keeps giving food to Matriarcado? I guess the warning wasn’t enough.”
Hector protested “She volunteers at the government food center, she doesn’t have a choice. They watch everything there.” Maria tried to speak and jostled against her restraints trying to break free.
“Orders are orders.” He stabs her in the neck. “You have a job to do, 11 AM, San Jose, today.” Maria struggled and faded while Hector roared to save her, being beat unconscious and falling flat instead.
Another bump breaks him out of his trance, piercing the silence with loud squeals of the brakes as the train pulls into Diridon Station near downtown San Jose, California Socialist Republic (CSR). This is his stop. He looks down as he makes his way off the train and to the station exit. Noticing police at the south gate he decides to head north. The Union has a rule about police involvement, and many of them are on the take. No police came to his apartment in the Mountain View Equity Enrichment District, a project by the California Socialist Republic to provide housing, food, and safe spaces for drug use in an environment free of police harassment. He walks out the north exit, avoiding any eye contact with cameras.
His mind races with thoughts of the days events, and he hasn’t slept since yesterday.
To himself he thinks “I can’t go back home, It’s not our home anyway. Mom will be missing from work and without her we won’t qualify for the apartment.” The stench of the tent city across the street hits him and he rubs his nose.
“Shit!” He mutters as he winces from the pain of his broken nose and feels fresh blood leaking down his face. He must look wrecked, but so does everyone else down here. He crosses the road, noticing only three cars because most people can’t afford the taxes, fees, or expense. Many roads have been taken over by vagrants and tent cities because of low traffic volumes. Maria and Hector were privileged to have an apartment, converted from an abandoned office building such as it was.
The automatic doors invite Hector in to the convenience store, and old gas station which couldn’t spare the expense to remove the abandoned gas pumps. He briskly walked to the bathroom avoiding questioning looks and wandering eyes. Locking the door and turning to face the mirror he sees the blood on his golden skin and bruised eyes and nose. Bracing himself for intense pain, he pinches his nose straight, and blows his nose out into his shirt. Paper towels had been banned and were nowhere in sight. He carefully writhes out of his shirt and buries it in the garbage can. Turning the water on cold and rinsing his face, resting his wet hands on his cheeks savoring the cold. His head hurt and visions of this mornings trauma replayed fresh in Hector’s mind.
2 │ Gig Work
Hector reached in his pocket and felt the phone The Union uses to assign work, transfer payments, and collect fees. They use cryptocurrency and cash, the hardest forms of money to trace and stop. The CSR monitors every transaction they can, especially through the government-provided Electronic Benefits Tracking (EBT) cards used for Universal Basic Income.
He leaves the bathroom, shirtless, and looks around the store for a shirt, coming across some San Jose tourist shirts. He picks up a baggy tee and pays the cashier with the EBT app on his phone.
Most people don’t work, either because drug use is more amenable, lack of skills, or too many applicants for the work. The balmy weather doesn’t help either, being perfect for lounging around or too hot to do anything else outside.
As he is leaving the store thoughts of the glory and wealth promised by The Union creeped into Hector’s mind. They assigned him mostly courier work, but sometimes he was muscle or a lookout. He’d been in fights but never had to hurt anyone as punishment such as what Dave did, and seemed to enjoy. They had told him to have his mother stop giving supplies to Matriarcado, a rival gang. Maria knew he worked for The Union, but she couldn’t follow the order just the same as Hector couldn’t. He started thinking they set him up, that they planned to do this from the beginning, because the order was as futile as telling a waterfall to be still.
Maria worked in central San Jose, a stronghold for Matriarcado, “The Matriarchy”. A female-lead gang who subjugated men with ruthless violence and forced women to do their bidding. They were backed by some people at the top of the Equity Bureau. The chief rivals of The Union in the south bay area. Unlike Matriarcado, The Union was a proper gang, only caring about money, power, and respect instead of additional intrigue like social justice revenge and gender-based subjugation, but to call either of them mere gangs ignores their massive criminal scale and pervasive brutality. There were other minor gangs in the area but these two were the biggest and survived various consolidations since the Secession Wars of the mid-2020s, and had major benefactors in the Socialist-Democratic Party that now runs the CSR. The Union itself was born of the merger, or union, of three criminal organizations, it’s brand mark containing elements of each .
Hector tried to recall how it became like this, to see if maybe that would show a way out. Most of the major companies, conservatives, and billionaires fled the CSR after the Declaration of Secession over the 2024 US Presidential election results, leaving behind the most hardcore left-wing elements and radical socialists to have at the region.
During the Secession Wars politics of the United States deteriorated into multiple factions, and the executive branch lost control over the majority of the military. The Pentagon remained neutral and refused to use force except where absolutely necessary, being a mix of people from all kinds of backgrounds and political viewpoints. Northern and Eastern California counties refused to go along with the newly-declared CSR, which consisted of land from Sacramento and the Bay Area to Fresno and Palm Springs and just north of San Diego.
Vandenberg Exclave was taken quickly by US Special Forces and the US Army, establishing a large perimeter around the Space Force base from the hills to the north, east, and south all the way westward to the coast. Vandenberg is the only space launch facility west of the Mississippi in North America, and is now no longer accessible by land without traveling through the CSR. Anyone who wasn’t military, military family, or support contractor personnel was forced out of the region. This caused public backlash, rioting, and arson by local communities, which was quickly quashed by military force leaving no rioters alive. San Diego remained neutral to secession under threat of military action and fears of a repeat of Vandenberg Exclave. Complete withdrawal of US Military assets from CSR territory ensued, and travel checkpoints at the border were established. Invasion and takeover of the CSR government was unpopular with public opinion throughout America and discouraged by the Military.
His pocket vibrated bringing him back to the present. Sliding his phone out he checked the screen – It was Javier.
The waiting was getting to him. Before going to a gig he only knew the general location, it made it easier to stay under the radar of the surveillance systems and convoy analysis algorithms. Hector stopped in to a food vending area to grab a bite to eat, a 7-bruin hot burrito dispensed from the kiosk and he smothers it with hot sauce to drown the paper taste.
His phone buzzes and he looks at the screen:
This was the message he was waiting for. Gig notices were usually terse and vague, for obvious reasons. Making way from the crowded vending area he headed down the street between tents and piles of garbage on one side and worn-out concrete buildings on the other. The stench singes his nose and made his eyes water. Sounds of children playing and people arguing among the tents permeated the air. It was about 3 miles to the mall, he opts to take the bus to a nearby stop and walk the rest.
“Over here” a voice declares from behind a palette stack. Hector looks in the direction and walks over. A woman, middle aged and short in stature steps into view, holding a shoebox-sized package. A courier job, then. “Where to?” Hector asked
“Club Cientos, before it opens.” she replied.
“OK, later” He takes the package and puts it in his worn nondescript backpack.
Hector doesn’t want to do any more jobs for The Union, but can’t see himself working for these types of people anymore. They will do worse than kill him if he refuses to follow them. Real jobs were rare, and paid much less than gang work. State jobs were full, and extremely hard to come by due to high demand.
He heads
to the nightclub, package in tow.
3 │ Fortune’s Favor
Hector earned five hundred CSR bruins for the courier job, but it paled in comparison to his loss. His parents immigrated into California from Venezuela in 2019 to escape the political turmoil and economic collapse, and were granted asylum shortly before his birth. His father died in riots trying to get food and medical supplied for him and his mother during the Secession Wars, and now he had no family left. Javier was the closest friend he had.
The evening breeze carried the faint hint of mountain air from the west. He waits for the bus to take him to Javier’s place. Javier shared a room with his girlfriend Liz in a converted hotel in Los Altos. Javier had a real job, working for a government-run electronics recycling plant doing work they have yet to figure out how to automate. Since the economy collapsed in the late 2020s honest work has been very difficult to find, almost requiring someone to die for a position to open.
The bus arrives and unloading it’s weary cargo after the long workday, creating room for Hector and a few other passengers heading northwest. The bus stinks of spoiled food, sometimes it was hosed out for cleaning but clearly it has been a while. Standing was mostly better than risking sitting in filth. He moves to the middle and grabs a ceiling handrail while some women file in and take the seats forward of him filling up the bus. It was mostly a smooth ride on the old asphalt, thankfully it never froze here, allowing the roads to last longer.
It was a couple blocks from the bus stop to Javier’s place, a short walk. He stopped at the local vending kiosk and picked up a 6-pack of beer for 30 bruins. Knocking on Javier’s door, waiting a tense moment before the door opens to his solemn face.
“Hey H, come on in.”
“Hi, brought some drinks.” Hector presents the 6-pack to Javier who takes it and pulls one out, handing it to Hector and taking another for himself. They make way for the couch.
He cracks his beer open and takes a big gulp. “They just broke in ... and killed mom ... to send a message. It doesn’t feel real.” “They will do worse to me if I don’t do what they say.”
“Javi, I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what to do.”
Javier’s turn to take a gulp. “Yeah, tough decisions. Can’t go to the Equity Police, they only care about social justice crimes and many of them are on the take too.”
“They cleaned the scene, she was gone when I came to, the blood was even cleaned up but everything was trashed like a regular break in.” He takes another drink, sighing with exhaustion. “I’m so tired but I don’t think I can sleep. Turn on the TV, we could use some background noise.” Javier puts on the local e-sports channel.
“H, Liz will be home soon, maybe she has some ideas.”
“Maybe, but I need weapons. To fight them off. I want to go after that gangoon Dave. I’ve seen him around, know where he hangs.”
“Woah, I get it but guns are hard to get and ammo even harder.” Incredulously adding “Do you even know how to shoot?”
“I’ll figure it out, close range makes aim easier.” He smiles at the thought, taking another drink”.
They both laugh darkly.
The front door beeps and opens to Liz carrying a bag of food. Javier gets up and saunters over to help her through the door.
“I brought dinner for three,” she proclaims “Javi said you were coming over tonight. Sorry about your mother.” she ended solemnly.
“Thanks Liz. That means a lot.” He struggles to hold back tears and rage as the horrific memory tugs at his consciousness. He sets his beer down and walks to the bathroom to freshen up. In the bathroom the weight of things hits him and he cries.
In the kitchen are of their studio Javi proportions the food into three trays. “Liz, do you know anyone that can help H?”
Liz replies “It depends what his plan is. I’d want to get the guy who did it, but then he’ll be on the run.”
“Right. He’s still figuring things out so let’s hear him out.” Javier ponders.
Hector comes out of the bathroom, cleaned face and neatly groomed hair. His face is hurting less but he has two black eyes and looks like he’s been through hell.
Liz and Javier settle in on the couch and Hector takes the floor with the coffee table between them. Liz and Javier make idle chitchat and Liz turns up the e-sports channel.
Hector takes a bite and chews slowly, mulling over his options. He’s never killed anyone before and the fights he were in were children’s fights not those of mortal peril. Could he do it? He was angry enough to, but people make mistakes when they are so highly charged on emotion. He could run, but the gang offers protection from rivals, smaller gangs won’t risk retaliation, and Matriarcados aren’t ready for a war. He can’t go to any authority. Finally, he couldn’t live with himself if he just moved on.
He glances at Liz then Javier. “Thank you for the food and letting me stay over”
“No problem H, you’re my bro.” Javier replied. It was very generous of them to let him stay over, given the apartment is a cramped studio.
“Javi says you might want some weapons, and a place to hide. I do RideHail so I can get you around unnoticed if you need.” Liz offers. “Guns are another matter. California before the secession made them very hard to get, now they are almost impossible unless you’re connected. Just so happens a guy I gave a ride to a while ago deals them, said to keep it hush and could help if I needed it. Guessing he gets them across the Yuba City checkpoint, or from Vandenberg.”
“OK, so I can get a gun, and assuming ammo, I can get that gangoon, but then the gang will come after me, I wont be able to stay. What then?”
A commercial plays on the TV. “Join MarsWorks, we offer training and an opportunity to see the solar system. Spend 5 years on Mars mining titanium and Cobalt and get 4 hectares of premium Martian real estate! Launching weekly during November and December from Vandenberg Exclave. Go to mining.mars or scan your screen to sign up!” a synthwave musical sequence plays as the ad wraps up “Mine and homestead on the great frontier, Mars!”
Javier suggests “How about MarsWorks? That’ll get you out of The Union’s reach. Corporate control, no gangs, hell I hear they barely even have the ‘net out there!”
“Maybe, but how do I get selected and an immigration permit? CSR doesn’t exactly like people leaving and Vandenberg is hardcore.” Hector muses.
Liz informs “The gang won’t rat you out to the police but who knows about immigration. You’ll have to be careful filing a permit in case they have someone inside...”
“Yeah, sounds like a good plan so far, can you get me to Vandenberg? We’ll have to run fast, hope they don’t make you or both of you will be in trouble.”
“I can take you close to the checkpoint, in the trunk.” Liz stated. She was the only one of the three with a driving license, and her car battery has a 300 mile range.
“It’s no guarantee MarsWorks will take me, but not a lot of people with sign up for hard work and a high risk of an unpleasant death. But then again I’m not a CSR member, not a US citizen.”
A moment of silence as they mull the gravity of their situation and all it entails to be successful.
“Let’s do it.” Hector says with solidarity.
4 │ Boa Viagem
Go-day. Hector steels himself for vengeance, with Javier and Liz prepping the car. He practiced racking the slide and swapping empty magazines on the 9mm semi-auto pistol. Ammo was still in boxes, of all things he couldn’t risk a negligent shot attracting the police. Gunshots were one of the few things that would get the attention of the Equity Police. Liz charged the batteries on the car overnight, and the dashboard shows a full charge. She makes sure to remove any unique items from the car, like the ornament hanging from her rearview mirror. Javier does the same for the exterior, no bumper stickers or window stickers were present. They had to be discreet if they were going to pull this off.
Hector loads the four magazines as Javier enters the apartment. “Car’s almost ready. Liz is finishing up the inside. Should be ready to go soon.”
Hector adds “Good. He’ll be around the Club Rouge in Sunnyvale, he does security and I’ve seen him there regularly. I sometimes go there to meet women, when I’m not working nights.”
Liz returns from the car “All ready guys. Let’s go over the plan once more.” The TV plays in the background, and their phones are in another room, just in case.
Hector nods and gets out a paper to draw a map on. Liz takes the pen and marks the major highways, asking ”Where is he going to be?”
“Club Rouge in Sunnyvale” Hector replies.
“Ok, that’s here...” marking the location. “...I’ll drop you here, and pick you up here. You’re on foot for the rest of the way, can’t risk them making me. Then we take the 101 down.”
Javier chimes in “I’ll be riding with you in the back, and we all go to to the border together. I have family here, I can’t go to Mars.”
Liz adds “I can’t go either.”
Hector acknowledges “I know. I need to leave all this behind... A fresh start. I lost both my parents here, and don’t know anyone in Venezuela. They left for a reason, and going back would undo everything they worked for.”
They burn the map.
It is now early dusk outside, that time when the sun fades but it’s not quite dark enough for the streetlights to come on. Liz pulls up to the drop-off point, and Hector gets out of the car, loaded gun in his pocket holster. The club wasn’t open at this time, but prepwork for the night’s events meant some crew would be there, including security, and he hoped to catch Dave in the alley behind the club. There were no working cameras in the alley to allow use for some unsavory business should the bouncers feel it necessary. He’ll have seconds after he fires to get out of the area, the loud bang will trigger a swift response from the gangoons before the police are called.
Hector pauses at the corner to the alley and peeks around, lighting up a cigarette as a pretense to be loitering. He is dressed like a drifter wearing tattered clothes and a faded jacket. The gun tucked in his right jacket pocket. The alley has dumpsters, piles of trash, old rotting palettes, but is empty of people. Sounds of distant traffic and the faint hum of machinery permeate the air. A metallic click gets his attention, one of the back doors to the club opens. Two average-height men and an Asian woman emerged. The more muscular man was Dave. The skinny man props the door open and tosses a few bags of trash in the ally on top of the pile. They all light up smokes and are talking jovially. Dave takes out his knife and plays with the blade in his hands. Hector lights up again, the nicotine helps with his nerves, and he doesn’t want to hurt the other two, neither of which he recognizes.
The Asian woman grabs the hand of the skinny guy and they go inside, giggling. Dave remains outside checking his phone. Now was his moment.
Hector drops the cigarette and smothers it with his boot, rounds the corner and walks toward Dave. He puts his hand in his pocket, hand on the grip of his pistol. Each footfall feels heavier and heavier and his heart races with anticipation.
Dave takes notice and puts his phone away, still holding the knife, now pointing it at Hector.
“Why are you here? Dave inquires “That package job was a success, shame about your mother. I was...”
At that moment Hector pulled the gun “YOU killed her...”
Dave lunges at Hector, seeing it as his last chance before getting shot to death. He trips over a brick in the alley and falls on the knife, right at Hector’s feet. Hector, in shock at the turn of events, looks down at Dave gasping, and takes a couple of steps back. Dave rolls over on his side revealing a growing puddle of blood. He grabs the knife handle pulling it out of his left lung unleashing an arterial spurt. Hector sees this, holsters the gun and runs out of the alley toward the pickup point three blocks away. He feels relief at not having to take a life, yet satisfied his mother’s killer is dead. He will never know who ordered her murder.
Liz, Javier, and Hector arrive in Orcutt, the town nearest to the Vandenberg Exclave checkpoint. Liz pulls into the parking lot.
“Thanks for your help, it’s been an insane ride the last few days. Keep the gun and anything in my old apartment. It’s yours, I have all I want to keep.”
“Thank you H, it’ll help” Liz admits.
Javier adds “It’s no problem H, we’re good friends. Best luck on Mars.”
“It’s late, I’m getting a room for the night. Safe travels home, I’ll send word when I arrive.”
The three of them bid farewell and Hector walks across the street to the hotel. He looks up at the bright sign of the Travel Inn with it’s red and white lettering before walking into the lobby. He sees a display with a recruiting table for MarsWorks, which won’t be manned until morning.
After booking a room he crashes on the bed, exhausted by the day’s events, still fully clothed.
Hector, freshly showered and smelling clean, takes the stairs down to the lobby and walks over to the MarsWorks booth. Two women, in their mid-twenties, are surveying guests when one spots Hector. “How would you like the adventure of a lifetime?” Angela inquires.
“Mars? I don’t know, how does it work?” Hector feigns disinterest to avoid sounding over-eager and an easy mark.
“You sign up for the MarsWorks program, a multi-national space program run by industry leaders in space exploration. We provide passports and handle Customs entry into Vandenberg where you will board the rocket and head for Mars! Any questions so far?”
“Not yet, but what happens when I get there?”
“You will be trained on low gravity physical fitness, various engineering systems, food production, and of course mining. The trip will take about 6 to 8 months depending on your launch date. When you arrive you will be assigned work and after your 5-year contract you will be granted 4 hectares of land.”
“OK, cool. Where do I sign up, and when do we ship out?”
“Sign up here on this paper. Today is your lucky day, we send the bus out by noon. Then you go through VE customs. We are doing daily launches for the next 6 weeks so many people are signing up! We have 15 here in this hotel for today, but many come from LA and San Diego too. Each rocket can only take 10 people though, food water and air for six months takes up a lot of space.”
Hector signs up for the service, Angela hands over a lanyard and badge with his name on it he puts over his neck. He boards the bus heading for Vandenberg Exclave, the location of west coast launch facility for the MarsWorks program.
5 │ Arrival
Seven months later, July 2042. “Prepare for landing, stow all gear, all passengers to your seats. De-orbit in 5 minutes.” the captain announced over the rocket-wide intercom system. This is the moment Hector awaited, and trained for. He looks out the window to see a massive basin in the southern hemisphere and some scattered dust storms. The planet is more rust-colored than red at this distance. He finishes strapping into his seat.
“Crew, complete stowage and seating checks.” the captain orders. “Stowage and seating checks complete, the cabin is ready for de-orbit.” the head stewardess replies.
The rocket jerks as the thunderous roar of the main engines kicks on to slow the spacecraft to atmospheric entry speeds. As the rocket slows Hector notices the feed on his screen rotates to show more space than planet, indicating the rocket is tilting more vertical over time. Due to Mars’ thin atmosphere and the mass of the rocket it requires a propulsive landing, which looks to an observer a bit like a rocket taking off played in reverse. The feed shows Olympus Mons, a mountain of truly massive proportions being may times higher and wider than Mt. Everest on Earth, followed by a chain of three more massive volcanoes as Olympus Mons fades in the distance. Those mountains recede as a large cliff looms in the view, growing into a massive canyon that wraps about one-sixth the way around the planet (and the largest in the solar system). The canyon, Valles Marineris grows as the rocket’s altitude lowers, showing it’s truly massive scale. The rocket slows more and more, the screen now reveals incredible detail on the canyon walls which are a towering 5 miles high, almost as high as Mount Everest. It seems to go on and on, a trench run on a planetary scale. Hector feels a jolt in the rocket as the landing fairings release helping to guide it to the landing pad at the eastern edge of the Valles Marineris. A solid thud resonates in the cabin as the rocket touches down and locking clamps engage the landing fairings.
The screens go black then play a welcome message with rotating Mars globe. “The rocket has landed, you may unbuckle your seatbelts and unload your belongings” the captain announces, “Welcome to Mars, we hope you had a pleasant flight.” A musical chime plays indicating it is safe to unbuckle and move about. Hector feels real weight in his body for the first time since the rocket left Earth, and it throws off his balance. He stumbles, catching himself on the seatback instead of faceplanting into the deck. At about 1/3 of Earth gravity he feels light, but much heavier than the freefall microgravity of space where it was only noticeable when moving. He walks off the rocket, through the landing tube causeway and into the main concourse of the landing pad. He walks over to the window, the massive canyon walls in the distance rise higher than the viewport windows making one feel as if they are underground. It is a truly alien landscape out there.
“All MarsWorks Passengers please report to the intake office on concourse B, level 2.” plays on the intercom. Hector makes way for the intake office, tuning out the string of repetitive spaceport announcements and imagining his new life here on Mars. It’s taken a lot of preparation and hard work to learn the material and hit the gym to avoid the muscle waste inherit with long periods at zero-G.
He completes processing at the intake office, and heads to the train station for his trip to the Eastern Chaos Mining District, at the eastern edge of the Valles Marineris. There in the small town of Coltan City he will live in a small underground apartment with hundreds of others and he will spend some days working in the smelting furnaces and other days using heavy machinery to dig up ore. Mars has roughly a 24-hour day which should be easy enough to get used to, but the years are much longer at 687 Earth-days.
Hector wheels the cart into his new apartment and looks around. He’s never seen accommodations so nice and clean, it’s almost antiseptic clean. On the left side there is a small alcove with a desk and computer terminal, a bunk bed with a couch under it, storage closet, a lush green living wall, and a bathroom with shower at the end of the long studio apartment. Opposite the living wall is a small kitchen with barstool seating. There is a large TV built into the wall opposite the couch, showing a live view of the martian sunset over the canyon and it’s faint blue-white glow. The apartment is pre-furnished and the bed is made up. All of the items must be made on Mars because the shipping costs would be insane. The first things shipped over were fabrication machines, then mining machines, which were mostly automated and programmed remotely prior to manned missions. He showers then climbs into his new bunk for a good night’s rest.
The next morning Hector reports to the duty chief for his assignment. He already has a class A license for operating the Mitsu-Koyani heavy excavator, courtesy of his voyage over, meaning he just needed a quick ride-along before being sent out on his own.
“Hi, I’m Frank, you’ll be riding with me today. We’re out on mining to see if there is something to the preliminary finding of ice under the rust in a newly opened area of Capri Chasma.”
“Hi Frank, I’m Hector. Let’s go dig up some ice!” Hector is excited to get his new career started.
Hector follows Frank to the locker room where they don their environmental suits, then the airlock. Several other people are suiting up for their own journeys. After cycling the airlock they walk slowly to the excavator trying not to bounce in the low gravity and thin air. Dust swirls about on the covered parking pad, a flat area of compacted Martian dirt with a large metal canopy making this area look like a giant warehouse without walls. They climb into the excavator and into the cramped airlock of the excavator, barely large enough for two people. The airlock cycles and they enter the spacious cabin, with four seats, several control consoles, and a sample analysis mini-lab. The cabin monitor and analog gauge agree the cabin is pressurized, and Frank opens his helmet “Ahh, the fresh smell of an excavator! Hector, you can breathe in here, but keep the suit ready in case something happens, I’ll drive out there, you take us back to get a feel for it.”
“Sounds good boss, I’m going to look over the maps while you drive.” They both strap into their seats and start up the excavator. It’s about 2 hours drive from their location, using up a lot of battery, but maintenance is easier driving back. For longer trips they can sleep in the small racks in the cabin.
“We’re almost there, see those dust trails? Those are the autocats. If the findings check out we’ll start digging and filling autocats, and they will take the haul back to the refinery.” Autocats are giant automated dump trucks programmed designed to go from A to B and don’t have any crew. Hector nods in acknowledgment. “Today’s going to be pretty mild, minus 10 celsius, it’s summer now. It gets hot in the suits when it’s warm like this, so be careful about heat stress if you work too hard.“
“Hector, start digging here, grid alpha-zero-seven. Dig a trench a ten meters long, three meters wide, and two meters deep.”
“On it boss” Hector digs the sample trench, the computer showing geometric measurements and highlighting the next area to excavate. “Done!”
“OK, now we go outside and see what we’ve got, grab the sample kit, I’ve got the camera.” Frank orders.
They cycle through the airlock and step out onto the plains of Capri Chasma. Hector looks up at the pink sky, surveying the wispy clouds and fresh horizon. It feels surreal being on another planet. He notices a bright star in the sky, it’s the afternoon so this is unexpected. Frank interjects “Beautiful sky, am I right!? That “star” there is Earth, amazing huh, almost every single human is on that small bright dot. There are only about 15,000 people on Mars right now.” Frank pats his back and walks down the slope into the excavated trench. “Go check the sidewalls, use the IR spectrometer and look for signs of water ice.”
Hector complies and starts scanning. The readings start erratic at the surface but stabilize lower down and the pinkish white streaks, indicating there is water ice mixed in with dust in this vein. The spectrometer indicates 60% water ice at the strongest. “Hey, Frank, looks like water ice, iron oxide, and titanium oxide.” He hears silence, and looks over to see Frank struggling.
Hector runs over to Frank, and sees his eyes bulging and him struggling. A warning light is blinking indicating no oxygen and low pressure. He grabs Frank and drags him back to the excavator. He uses the winch to lift him to the airlock, and pressurizes it. He removes Frank’s helmet and checks his breathing, no airflow. He drags Frank to the autodoc and connects it. “Scanning. Scanning... Subject Frank Zimmer... Low oxygen, no blood pressure... No heartbeat... Attempting resuscitation...” Hector stands back while the autodoc attempts to defibrillate Frank. “resuscitation failed... Ultrasound indicates multiple embolism. Subject deceased.” Hector is stunned, losing his mentor on his first day due to an accident. He’s two hours out from home base so the autodoc is the most advanced medical treatment they have. He goes out and collects their gear, then returns to the excavator.
It’s a long and lonely drive back to base, with Frank’s corpse still in his suit and on the floor of the cabin. “Well, Mars is off to a great start...” he mutters sarcastically. “Computer, contact the mining coordinator, inform them of the incident and our ETA.”
“Transmitting........Received........Acknowledged” the computer spoke. “Standby for police and medical upon arrival.”
“Computer, acknowledge information.” Hector orders.
The excavator pulls up to the garage and sees the blue and red flashing lights of police and medical at his parking spot. He drives into position and parks the excavator, shutting down the main drive and switching to standby power. The system umbilical connects to the excavator. “Switched to station power, standby mode engaged.” the computer announces.
“Hector Viera, standby in the cabin, we are boarding” the police officer announces. The airlock cycles and one police officer and emergency medical technician step into the cabin. “He’s over there, He just lost his air and I did what I could, got him to the autodoc as quick as I could.”
“Thank you mister Viera, we’ll get your statement later, in the meantime please head home, we need to check the system logs.” the officer dismisses Hector.
Hector arrives at his apartment, still stunned at the day’s events, drops his gear on the floor and walks into the bathroom to freshen up he hears the door chime. He walks over to the door “Hold on a sec” and scrambles to put his shirt back on. He opens the door, expecting a police officer to take his statement “Hello, who are you?”
“Well, I’m not the police. I heard about today’s incident. What a tragedy...” she said. “I’m Katie, and I’m here to help you.” Hector states “Christo, It was a freak accident.”
“Not if you don’t do what I say, you are mine now.” Katie proclaims.
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