Ad Astra (23 page)

"How could such a minor failure have wrecked the entire mission? Who failed here?"

"We're sorry, Doctor Singleton, but there was nothing else we could do. By the time we could see the problem and get a command back, it was too late. Even lightspeed isn't fast enough to maintain positive control of a quickly moving situation that far off."

"'Sorry' is not an acceptable response. We cannot afford another, um, limited success. Period. There's too much visibility, too many questions being asked. The next mission
must
produce a wealth of results, or large portions of NASA's interplanetary exploration budget will be on the chopping block."

"Is it time to reconsider the entire programmatic approach, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Doctor Singleton, every problem encountered by the ROVERs to date on Mars would have been easily overcome by a human explorer on-scene. Perhaps a manned mission-"

"We are committed to the ROVER
unmanned
exploration program. Understand? NASA cannot afford the expense of a manned mission."

"But the cost of
five
robotic missions-"

"And, I might add, there is nothing human explorers could do that the ROVERs cannot. Robotic explorers carry all the scientific equipment human explorers could."

"But if the best way to explore Mars-"

"The best way to explore Mars, and every other planet in this system, was determined before the ROVER program began. Robots are faster, cheaper, and better than manned programs. Every official evaluation since then has reconfirmed that finding. I know, because my office was responsible for producing those evaluations."

"Excuse me, Doctor Singleton. They assigned the ROVER office responsibility for evaluating the success of the ROVER program?"

"Of course. Who knows more about the program than we do? Now, I want a solid proposal for a means to ensure no limited successes like those we've encountered with ROVERs I through IV."

"I told you. Send a human."

"You don't appear to be functioning as a team player. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable in the trans-URANUS probe development office. Yes, Doctor Bray?"

"There may be a way, sir, to avoid these problems without using a manned spacecraft. It's really just a matter of perspective."

#

NASA Conference Room, Cape Canaveral -

"I don't understand." Commander Halstead peered at the laptop computer screen with a quizzical frown, then back at Doctors Singleton and Bray. "This looks exactly like a scaled-down version of the preliminary spacecraft design for a manned mission to Mars."

Doctor Bray shook his head with a tight smile. "It's not. This is something else entirely."

"What?"

"It's a Forward-Deployable Maintenance Facility, or FODMAC for short."

"Huh?" Halstead jabbed one finger at the diagram. "Isn't that the lander?"

"No. That's an Individual Egress Module, or IEM. It's to be used only if maintenance activity on ROVER V is required."

"Maintenance on ROVER V?" Halstead questioned. "Does this mean the ship-"

"The FODMAC."

"-is going to Mars?"

Doctor Singleton frowned and wagged one finger at Halstead. "No, no, no. Nothing in the FODMAC's mission statement has to do with going to Mars. The FODMAC will simply be required to maintain necessary proximity to ROVER V to be able to conduct maintenance if essential."

Halstead let out a long breath. "Excuse me, but I take it I'm going to be the one manning the, uh, FODMAC?"

"No," Bray corrected gently. "You will be assigned to the FODMAC. The FODMAC is not defined as a manned vehicle."

"Even if there's a man inside?"

"Come now, Commander Halstead," Doctor Singleton chided. "Just because we work in this building doesn't make it a manned vehicle, does it?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this building won't be going into orbit around Mars."

"Neither will the FODMAC," Singleton stated sharply. "An orbit is defined as the movement of a smaller body around a larger one. The FODMAC will always maintain a fixed position relative to ROVER V or its landing site. It will
not
, therefore, ever be in orbit."

Halstead leaned backward, eyes shifting from one administrator to the other. "I am, however, an astronaut. Why do you need an astronaut to 'occupy' something that isn't a ship and isn't going to Mars?"

Bray cleared his throat and smiled again. "I see you haven't read your e-mail yet today."

"My e-mail?"

"Yes, if you had, you'd know that your job classification has been officially changed. You are no longer occupying an astronaut billet. Commander Halstead, you are now an On-scene Maintenance Technician."

"I see. What if I don't want to be an On-scene whatever?"

The two Doctors exchanged glances. "In that event," Singleton advised, "you will of course be released from duty with NASA and returned to your parent military service for assignment. Naturally, the secrecy oaths you signed regarding classified mission details will remain fully effective, and any discussion of the FODMAC or your role in it will be forbidden. Alternatively, you can chose to participate, and have some role in this historic mission. The choice is yours."

#

Vicinity Mars -

Commander Halstead shifted uncomfortably, trying for the millionth time to fully stretch in the small compartment that had been home for months. His head jerked as the communications panel buzzed to warn of an incoming message.

"FODMAC, this is Houston. ROVER V has encountered difficulty deploying from the pad of the landing vehicle. Conduct an egress and carry out necessary maintenance."

Halstead's heart leaped. "Roger, Houston. I understand you desire I conduct a landing on Mars near the ROVER."

Long minutes passed as light waves crawled back and forth through the emptiness, before Houston's reply finally roared forth. "Negative, FODMAC! Negative! Your reply used improper and unauthorized terminology and has been purged from system records. We repeat, you are to conduct an egress using the IEM and achieve necessary proximity to ROVER V to conduct any required maintenance, then return to the FODMAC ASAP. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Houston, I understand."

#

A trail of footprints marked the Martian soil, leading from the still-smoking site of the IEM touchdown to the pad where ROVER V sat like a huge, ugly stamen in the middle of a petal formed by access panels which had dropped open on every side. Halstead glared sourly down at the machine, noting that the retaining clip on the left rear quarter of the ROVER had failed to release and was holding it captive. Pulling out a long screwdriver, he bent awkwardly, inserting the tool inside the latch and tugging. The latch popped open and retracted, freeing the ROVER, which immediately surged into motion, seeming to bustle merrily away across the red landscape.

Commander Halstead trudged heavily back to the IEM, pausing at the ladder, then stared toward the glowing spot of light far above that marked Earth. "To hell with it," he muttered, then fished an oblong of stiff paper from the tool kit and smiled at it. One side of the postcard was given over to a picture of the American flag. On the blank side, Halstead had earlier written 'Kilroy was here' in large letters. Jamming the screwdriver blade through the paper next to the flag's union so that it served as a crude jackstaff, he planted the tool handle-first in the soil, then stepped back and sketched an elaborate salute. Leaving the tiny marker, he climbed back into the IEM.

#

NASA Press Conference, Houston - "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that the robotic probe ROVER V is successfully completing every assigned task. Our knowledge of a wide area of the planet Mars is being significantly augmented with every passing hour as a result of the analytical and exploratory capabilities of ROVER V. In short, this an outstanding success for our planetary exploration program. Every person involved with the ROVER program should be immensely proud, as should every American."

"Excuse me, Doctor Singleton, but rumors persist that a manned expedition was somehow integrated with the ROVER program and played a role in this latest success. Can you comment on those rumors?"

"I do not know why this kind of irresponsible rumor-mongering continues to be given credence. This sort of innuendo has surfaced before and our comments are on record."

"Nonetheless, Doctor, can you categorically deny any manned involvement in the ROVER program?"

"Sir, every line of the ROVER mission plan, funding authorization, and mission objectives is available on-line for your review. Use any keywords you want to search through them. I can categorically state you will find no reference to a manned mission to Mars therein. Does anyone else have questions?"

"Doctor Singleton? There has been an ongoing dispute over the relative worth of manned missions versus robotic exploration, with partisans of human explorers insisting there is no substitute for human involvement given the inherent limitations of any machine and the huge distances involved in space travel. How does this success for the ROVER program affect that debate?"

"We have not been involved in any 'debate,' as you characterize it. We were assigned the mission of achieving planetary exploration quickly and at minimum cost, using robotic explorers, and we have done so."

"But, Doctor, this is the fifth ROVER mission. Counting the previous ROVERs, the time spent designing them, building them, and in transit to Mars, as well as the costs of all those missions, wouldn't a single manned mission have been both faster and cheaper?"

"I can't speculate on such issues. Our orders were to conduct robotic exploration of Mars, and we have done so. I really can't understand why the Press is trying to harp on the allegedly limited success of earlier ROVER missions instead of the positive news of ROVER V's accomplishments."

"Doctor Singleton, in light of what you've characterized as the ROVER Program's overwhelming success, is there any foreseeable need for future manned missions outside of Earth orbit?"

"I would say the official record speaks for itself in that regard."

Author's Note on
Section Seven

How do you hold together a society spread across the stars? The answer in many stories involves using force, but how practical might that be if you have to worry about moving enough force to control a planet across the distances between stars? At the least, it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe there would be more subtle ways to keep people seeing themselves as part of a wider group rather than separate. Methods so subtle that very, very few people would even know they were being used.

Section Seven

Valentia looked beautiful from orbit, but then most planets did. Foster gave the world a weary traveler's worth of attention as the lander glided down, reflecting that from a great distance you couldn't encounter temperature extremes or rough terrain or the bites of bugs that wanted to eat you even if they couldn't digest you. Not to mention encountering the people, who were always the source of the particular problems Foster dealt with.

The customs official barely glanced at Foster's standard ID before feeding it into his desk scanner. A moment later, the ID popped back out onto the counter where he could pick it up.

"HaveanicestayonValentiaMr.Oaks," the official mumbled before reaching for the ID offered by the next traveler.

Foster retrieved his ID, took two steps past the customs desk, and found himself facing a trio of individuals wearing dark uniforms and stern faces. One of the port police officers held out her hand. "May I examine your ID, sir?"

"Uh, of course." Foster let his own expression show an appropriate level of surprise and a hint of worry as he fished out the ID again. "Is something wrong?"

The officer took the ID and slid it into a portable reader before answering. "Just a random check, Mr. Oaks. Valentia wants to make sure all travelers have good stays here. What brings you to Valentia?"

Foster smiled with the practiced enthusiasm of a sales professional. "I represent Inner Systems Simulations. You've heard of ISS?"

The officer's responding smile was both polite and brief. "No. Sorry."

"We make some of the finest entertainment software. Just in the Inner Systems right now, but we want to expand our market. If you'd like, I can show you some of our -."

"That won't be necessary." The officer removed the ID from her scanner and returned it to Foster. "Have a nice visit to Valentia, Mr. Oaks."

Foster smiled back with the same degree of professional insincerity, though his smile could've been genuine. Posing as a sales professional had numerous advantages, not the least of which was the ability to drive away questioners by beginning to offer a sales pitch. It never hurt to cut short an interview, even though his false IDs couldn't be spotted by any scanner and his cover story was solid.

Outside of the port terminal Foster squinted against the brightness of Valentia's sun. He hailed a cab by raising one hand in a gesture understood everywhere humanity had gone, directing it to the short-term rental business apartment complex where Mr. Oaks had his reservation. Foster didn't bother looking around for anyone tailing his cab, since that would have been a tip-off he thought he might be followed. Instead, he watched the scenery roll by with every appearance of boredom.

Foster checked in, went up to an apartment whose interior decoration could've placed it on any of a score of worlds, and swiftly changed clothes. The Valentian styles in his bag hadn't aroused any suspicion at Customs, since many tourists didn't want to look like tourists. A few minutes later, he was leaving the apartment complex by a different way than that he'd entered through. A brisk walk took him to a restaurant, where he paused to examine the menu in the window while also checking the reflection for anyone following him. There weren't any apparent candidates, but Foster took the precaution of checking for tails in two other restaurant or shop windows before entering an establishment promising authentic Italian cuisine using the finest native Valentian ingredients.