this world for the better - or he will die trying.
~ * ~
2
‘Throttling engines to fifty per cent.’
Judd Bell stares out of the rectangular portal and takes in the rust-red surface below. The landscape reminds him of the Central Australian desert he knows so well, though he’s a long way from the Northern Territory today. He is, in fact, two thousand feet above the surface of Mars in the Orion Multi-Purpose Crew Vehicle. In front of him a Heads Up Display (HUD) projects an outline of the spacecraft’s descent trajectory onto the portal’s glass. He peers through it, scans the dark red planet for the landing point.
‘I see it.’ It’s a kilometre in the distance. He works the hand controller and fires the manoeuvring thrusters, pushes Orion towards it. ‘Sixteen hundred feet, down seventy.’
The astronaut’s mouth is dry. Apart from that he feels good, considering he’s spent seven months with five other astronauts sardined into a spacecraft the size of a small condominium. He’s sure his current goodwill is the result of the pure oxygen being pumped into his bubble helmet, which is also the reason for his dry mouth.
An alarm sounds in his headset. Judd’s eyes don’t move from the portal as he speaks into his helmet’s microphone: ‘What’s that?’
The question is directed at Delroy ‘Del’ Tennison, the thin, balding copilot standing beside Judd and studying a bank of LED screens and gauges. The Florida native references a screen as he kills the piercing drone. ‘Program alarm eleven-oh-seven.’
‘Why?’ Judd knows that alarm has something to do with the landing computer being overwhelmed with data but he doesn’t know how serious it is. It’s Del’s job to find out. He manages Orion’s systems, Judd just flies it.
‘On it.’ Del’s eyes flick between three LED screens, searching for an answer.
Judd breathes in and focuses on the Marscape below. He caresses the controller and eases the spacecraft onwards. Orion is similar to the Lunar Module that landed on the Moon - except it’s five times larger and carries three times as many people. Shaped like a short, fat bullet it has four levels housing crew quarters, scientific equipment and supplies for a month-long stay on the red planet. On the top level is the flight deck, where Judd and Del currently stand, side by side, strapped into harnesses. Behind them are their four crewmates, suited, helmeted and belted into their chairs. They sit silently. At this point theirs is a watching brief.
Judd focuses on the HUD for a moment then surveys the deep-red surface below. ‘Thousand feet, down fifty.’ Through the low light he can see the landing point clearly for the first time.
It’s not good. At all.
His feeling of goodwill vanishes. This mission has been a long time coming, the culmination of a billion man-hours of concerted effort and a trillion dollars of taxpayers’ money, all to have the onboard computer direct the spacecraft to a landing point slap-bang in the middle of a crater the size of Yankee Stadium.
It’s not a big crater by Martian standards but it’s big enough, with sides so steep a landing is impossible - Orion would simply slide down the incline as soon as it touched down. To ice the cake this crater is both filled with and surrounded by boulders which range in size from medicine ball to Cadillac Eldorado. It would only take a small rock snagging one of Orion’s four spindly landing legs to damage the ship irreparably. Then the crew, unable to leave the planet, would spend the rest of their truncated lives staring up at a distant blue speck, wishing they’d never dreamed of visiting the stars when they were children.
‘Not liking the look of this.’ Judd keeps his voice even, doesn’t want the words that reach Mission Control in two minutes to scare the cattle. Not that it matters. In two minutes this will be over and
~ * ~
2
‘Throttling engines to fifty per cent.’
Judd Bell stares out of the rectangular portal and takes in the rust-red surface below. The landscape reminds him of the Central Australian desert he knows so well, though he’s a long way from the Northern Territory today. He is, in fact, two thousand feet above the surface of Mars in the Orion Multi-Purpose Crew Vehicle. In front of him a Heads Up Display (HUD) projects an outline of the spacecraft’s descent trajectory onto the portal’s glass. He peers through it, scans the dark red planet for the landing point.
‘I see it.’ It’s a kilometre in the distance. He works the hand controller and fires the manoeuvring thrusters, pushes Orion towards it. ‘Sixteen hundred feet, down seventy.’
The astronaut’s mouth is dry. Apart from that he feels good, considering he’s spent seven months with five other astronauts sardined into a spacecraft the size of a small condominium. He’s sure his current goodwill is the result of the pure oxygen being pumped into his bubble helmet, which is also the reason for his dry mouth.
An alarm sounds in his headset. Judd’s eyes don’t move from the portal as he speaks into his helmet’s microphone: ‘What’s that?’
The question is directed at Delroy ‘Del’ Tennison, the thin, balding copilot standing beside Judd and studying a bank of LED screens and gauges. The Florida native references a screen as he kills the piercing drone. ‘Program alarm eleven-oh-seven.’
‘Why?’ Judd knows that alarm has something to do with the landing computer being overwhelmed with data but he doesn’t know how serious it is. It’s Del’s job to find out. He manages Orion’s systems, Judd just flies it.
‘On it.’ Del’s eyes flick between three LED screens, searching for an answer.
Judd breathes in and focuses on the Marscape below. He caresses the controller and eases the spacecraft onwards. Orion is similar to the Lunar Module that landed on the Moon - except it’s five times larger and carries three times as many people. Shaped like a short, fat bullet it has four levels housing crew quarters, scientific equipment and supplies for a month-long stay on the red planet. On the top level is the flight deck, where Judd and Del currently stand, side by side, strapped into harnesses. Behind them are their four crewmates, suited, helmeted and belted into their chairs. They sit silently. At this point theirs is a watching brief.
Judd focuses on the HUD for a moment then surveys the deep-red surface below. ‘Thousand feet, down fifty.’ Through the low light he can see the landing point clearly for the first time.
It’s not good. At all.
His feeling of goodwill vanishes. This mission has been a long time coming, the culmination of a billion man-hours of concerted effort and a trillion dollars of taxpayers’ money, all to have the onboard computer direct the spacecraft to a landing point slap-bang in the middle of a crater the size of Yankee Stadium.
It’s not a big crater by Martian standards but it’s big enough, with sides so steep a landing is impossible - Orion would simply slide down the incline as soon as it touched down. To ice the cake this crater is both filled with and surrounded by boulders which range in size from medicine ball to Cadillac Eldorado. It would only take a small rock snagging one of Orion’s four spindly landing legs to damage the ship irreparably. Then the crew, unable to leave the planet, would spend the rest of their truncated lives staring up at a distant blue speck, wishing they’d never dreamed of visiting the stars when they were children.
‘Not liking the look of this.’ Judd keeps his voice even, doesn’t want the words that reach Mission Control in two minutes to scare the cattle. Not that it matters. In two minutes this will be over and
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