Chapter 3 Part 1

Chapter 3


The trip to Mars lasted almost three days. Nathan found that the repeated photon thrusts over the two days that they accelerated became a routine and by the end of the second day, he was able to sleep through the the entire thrust phase.

On the morning of the third day, the ship turned completely around and the fusion reactor was powered up to full strength. The sail was furled and the ship began to decelerate and a constant retro thrust. That went on for eighteen hours until the ship was in a matching orbit with Mars. It took another two hours on maneuvering thrusters to bring the Orion's Belt into the Martian orbit. Nathan was almost disappointed when the shuttle arrived to ferry him to Aries Metro.

Bidding his farewells, Nathan boarded the shuttle and waited out the hour long ride to the spaceport of the Market's primary defense installation. The ride itself was smooth as the thin Martian atmosphere provided very little turbulence. There was a dust storm on the surface, east of Olympus Mons, but the shuttle's altitude avoided any meteorological effects.

Eventually, the shuttle descended and rotated to landing position above the touch pad on the floor of Valles Marianis. Descending the sides of the canyon walls were rows upon rows of windows and technological superstructure as well as a gathering of massive pipes which Nathan knew were the city's water supply being pumped from the polar caps.

When they landed, Nathan, the only passenger, made his way to the transport bus. The bus, a mobile airlock, was little more than a large room with sufficient seating and storage for a cargo of passengers and their baggage.

Nathan seated himself without a word to the porter whose glare indicated that he thought very little of all the fuss being made for a single person. Once seated, though, the bus began its bumpy trek from the landing field to a hangar where Nathan disembarked into a pressurized garage. There he was met by a pair of guards who hastily passed him through the usual customs checks and admitted him into the city.

Nathan had only been to Aries Metro on two other occasions. Both times had been several years earlier and the city had changed a fair amount. The MIRA office was a fair distance from the spaceport, so he made his way to a transit tunnel.

All of the inhabited part of Mars was embedded in solid rock, and the transit tunnel was little more than an old fashioned subway. Whatever the name, it served its purpose to perfection.

Nathan used his card to purchase a token and boarded the train. He sat next to a young woman who was reading literature on giving birth. She noted his interest and explained nervously. "My husband and I are going to have a baby," she said. "We saved for six years to get a conception permit. Now we are well on our way." She patted her abdomen affectionately.

"How far along are you?" Nathan asked politely.

"Almost a month," she replied. "I wanted a son, but my husband insisted on a girl so that is what we are going to get."

"That is nice," Nathan agreed.

"I was reading in this brochure," she held the paper out to display, "that long ago, before the population controls went into law, people had no control over the sex of their babies."

Nathan nodded. "That is true."

"I still don't know how they control it now."

Nathan smiled. "Do you recall when your husband and you made your decision the physician made a prescription for you?"

"Yes," she answered. "We got that foam."

Nathan went on. "That foam was a special kind of spermicide. Since the gene that determines a baby's gender is in the sperm, that foam, which you inserted into your womb before sex, selectively destroyed all sperm carrying the male gene. There is a similar, but more complex foam for use when trying to have a boy."

"Why is it more complex?"

"Because it is easier to identify the male gene than it is to identify the female gene."

"Oh," she said at last.

The train slowed and Nathan noted that they were pulling in to his stop. "This is my stop," he said. "It was nice meeting you. Good luck with the baby."

Nathan exited the travel tunnel and turned to his left. In spite of all the years since his last visit, that particular part of the city had changed very little. The MIRA office was exactly where he remembered it. As soon as he entered, the secretary keyed her comm panel and spoke quietly into the pickup. Then she stood and greeted him quite eagerly.

"Mr. Thomas, it is such a pleasure to have you here again. I hope your flight was pleasant."

Nathan returned her smile. "It was," he remarked. "But I haven't had much in the way of good sleep for several days, so if you would be so kind as to arrange for some lodgings and let Mr Bostik know I have arrived, I would be grateful."

"That has already been done," Cain Bostik, the local director, interrupted as he emerged from a side door. "We have made every effort to see to your comfort. I hate to rush you and I know you would like to freshen up, but if possible, I would like to brief you before you depart."

Nathan sighed and dropped his traveling case on a vacant chair. "Of course," he replied. And followed Bostik to the director's office.

The office was modest and furnished only with a few pictures and a rubber plant. The desk was actually small and comprised mostly of a pivoting monitor and keyboard. Bostik turned the monitor so that Nathan could see. He touched a few keys and the screen flared to life.

"I do not know how much of the most recent activities you are up on," Bostik began, "so let me fill you in on the last week's developments." He leaned forward on his desk. "After the destruction of the lunar installation, we made and emergency survey of all Syndicate military vessels. At this point all of their war craft are accounted for and were in no position to be responsible for this action."

"We also requested and defense command sent a flight of scout craft assigned to the Whirlpool into the asteroid belt near the point where the meteor is thought to have originated. Their findings were disturbing. In cross referencing their sensor recordings with our charts and atlas, we have determined that there are no asteroids of appreciable mass missing."

"Then where did the thing come from," Nathan asked. "Is it possible that a mistake was made in backtracking its course?"

"The calculations have been done dozens of times," Bostik replied. "The course is exact. The meteor came from this area." He touched a key and the monitor displayed a section of the asteroid belt. "But, as I said, nothing is missing."

"Is it possible that a chunk of one of these asteroids was blasted out and put on a collision course with Luna?" Nathan offered.

"We are investigating that very idea. The recon probes took holos of all the asteroids in that area. Those holos are being compared to the recorded diagrams and checked for alterations."

"Are we dead certain that this was not a natural phenomenon?"

Bostik shook his head. "Not if the meteor originated from the asteroids. In order for a asteroid to break down and send a meteor spiraling into the inner system, there must be a perturbation. Nothing with significant mass has passed by in a long time."

"So we must wait and see what the holos turn up." Nathan crossed his legs and propped his chin with his hand.

Bostik ran a had across the stubble atop his nearly bald head. "The analysis of the holos will be complete before nightfall," he said at last. "I know you are tired, so if you want to go and relax, I will be sure you are paged the instant the results come in."

Nathan almost declined, but could see no reason to stay. That and his rumbling stomach convinced him to take the advice. He stood and left the office with only a glance back to see Bostik digging through a stack of papers.

Nathan left the office and strolled down the street a short distance. There were several shops and office complexes close by but they were overly common. Banks, media shops, restaurants, and several other normal businesses adorned the avenue.

A few electric vehicles passed by regularly and Nathan flagged one that identified itself as a taxi. The vehicle stopped and the door opened. Nathan entered and strapped himself in.

"Where to, sir?" the cabbie, a large woman who in his opinion, could barely fit inside the vehicle asked.

"The historical district if you please," Nathan replied. He knew from his previous visit of a saloon in that area.

The driver did not respond verbally. She simply put the car in drive and pulled out into the traffic.

Almost as if putting the vehicle in motion also put her mouth in motion, she began to prattle on about various subjects ranging from politics to the manners of the other drivers with whom she shared the road. Nathan quickly decided that he would have been better off walking, but simply stared at the passing establishments and tried to ignore his driver.
The cabbie did not seem to mind the fact that no one was conversing with her. She rolled right along asking questions and answereing them just as fast. Finally she pulled the automobile over and announced the fare. Nathan withdrew his card and scanned it across the terminal in the rear of the front seat. He then entered his authorization code and the fare was paid.

Nathan exited and was glad to be out of the car. As the taxi sped away, Nathan took in his surroundings. He was on a corner next to a historical marker indicating the spot where the first traces of underground ice had been discovered during the colonization period. Not far to his left was a museum whose prime exhibit was one of the two Viking Landers that had been retrieved two decades earlier by a planetology team.

Nathan remembered the museum and that gave him his bearings. He turned and followed the street until he arrived at his destination. The Ancient Mariner Saloon served, in Nathan's opinion, the best onion rings and grilled steak on the planet.

When he stepped inside, Nathan was pleased at how little things had changed. The saloon was made out like an old North American frontier eatery. There was a stage where a young lady was playing a synthesizer and singing an old melody while dozens of small tables littered the floor.

A hostess came forward and inquired as to Nathan's dining preference. He requested a single table and was directed near the back wall which suited him just fine.