The Attempt (The Martian Manifesto Book 1) Page 17

  They all watched the distinctive small circle of a planet slowly arc over their heads due to the rotation of the asteroid. Sam imagined that this might have been what Columbus had felt like as he finally spotted land after his long voyage. The spectacular sight was soon over as Mars set around the other side of the Cycler. The planet would return in a few minutes if they had stayed to watch, but Roy said, “Okay, folks. We have one last item to accomplish before we head back. We need to cut some of this webbing and store it in the rocket headed to the Star-Kissed habitat. I received a message from Mission Control that the men there requested netting to hold down cargo for transport. Apparently the cables they were using failed, and so they need a large section of net to do the job. You three can head back, but Sam and I need to cut this webbing with a blowtorch. For safety, you should all return now.”

  As the three Platinums turned around and worked their way back hand-over-hand, Roy indicated to Sam with gestures to change to a private radio channel. After Sam nodded, Roy spoke to her. “I don’t buy that they need this netting for cargo,” Roy said. “I think NASA is keeping the communications bland so that the colonists don’t learn what’s going on. They haven’t given me a single update on what is actually happening at the Mars base.”

  “Probably,” Sam said as she took the torch canister from Roy. “You know that I still don’t agree with keeping this entire thing about the alien creatures secret. They’re going to find out sooner or later.”

  “I’m hoping it’s later,” the Commander said, igniting the tip of the device. It was similar to the ones that were used for underwater welding by supplying both the oxygen and acetylene to the nozzle tip. “After that, we’ll be off to the Star-Kissed habitat, and they can do whatever they want.” He slowly moved the flame close to a piece of the cabling that was near one edge of the asteroid, cutting through it. Soon he had freed a sizeable piece, and the two of them placed it inside the hold of the rocket meant for the NASA Mars base.

  “Alright, that’s done. The next time we’re out here, we’ll be launching these three rockets to the red planet.”

  # # #

  At that same moment, the Master stepped out of the underground chamber onto the surface of Mars. The micro-factory had created for him two oxygen generators which covered the two slits at his rear that he used for breathing. The bulbous modules converted the carbon dioxide atmosphere of the Red Planet into oxygen, periodically ejecting the pure carbon that was left behind. The Master had no need for a spacesuit, since it had been genetically adapted for the planet’s thin atmosphere and its scales acted as an external pressure suit.

  As the Master stretched, it tested the armor that was attached to its four tentacles. The covering was similar to chain mail, and composed of small loops of carbon nanotubes. It was very light and flexible, providing the Master’s appendages with their normal full mobility. Likewise, its legs were covered with the same armor. The bulk of the body remained uncovered. It was a sign of cowardice for the Master’s race to cower behind protection. Its whole essence was to use its tentacles for attack and defense.

  The hoppers had located a new home only a short distance away that was rife with water and minerals. The Master picked up Probe Spit using his tentacles, and carried it to their new base. Spit’s sensopads were ineffective for locomotion, and any short launch and re-landing of the probe would have given away their new position. The Master left Spit with directions to excavate a new lair, as he went back to fetch the mini-factory.

  The Master had not bargained on the fact that NASA kept satellites in orbit around Mars, and that these had telescopes sensitive enough to spot it. The Earthmen had relocated their own most sensitive probes to constantly watch the area near where the electro-biosynth battle had occurred. Now, the movements to the new location were spotted. That information was passed to the oversight committee which reported to the President, and the members debated the next actions that would be transmitted to the astronauts currently situated on Mars.

  CHAPTER 29

  One month later…

  September 24th had started in the United States like any other day. Children were at home, in their mandated learning pods, taking their first classes of the day. Low wage workers had clipped into their exo-harnesses hours ago and started loading and unloading supply containers from loading docks. And most middle class earners had put on their bio helmets to access their tasks of the day from their companies’ computers. All had ear buds or visual screens that fed them information, including breaking news.

  But no sooner had many on the East coast started their day, when the video of the astronauts on Mars fighting with the electro-biosynths was released on the net. Appended to the end of the sequence was the video of NASA’s Mission Control providing the Mars base with its assessment and directing the astronauts to create weapons. The videos were instantly forwarded, going viral. By that afternoon, citizens had formed protest groups and flooded the streets of Washington, D.C. in front of the Capitol building. Riots broke out between the groups supporting the government’s position, and those horrified by it. People demanded to know why the government had kept such earth shattering news hidden.

  In an emergency session of the UN, China denounced the Americans for their duplicity and revealed the Chinese plan to land peacefully on Mars. They promised that all alien technology uncovered would be freely shared with the worldwide community.

  But the world paused that night, waiting for a promised exclusive from News Channel 84. Screens everywhere depicted the channel’s logo and music, which was replaced by the close-up visage of the show’s anchor.

  “Tonight, the world asks many questions about the aliens revealed to be on Mars,” the anchor stated. “Many questions will still remain unanswered by the end of this broadcast, but at least a few responses will be provided. Here in the studio, we have our own roving reporter, Rebecca Storm, along with a surprise guest. Over to you, Rebecca.”

  “Thank you, Vic,” the pretty news reporter said as the camera closed in on her sitting at the desk next to the anchor. “The studio has been flooded all day with calls demanding that we find out how this information could have been kept secret, and how it finally came to light. Our exclusive guest tonight is Paul Finkelstein, whom you might remember from my broadcast a few months ago.” The image panned out so that viewers could see the husky bespectacled man sitting next to her. “Paul was the brave young whistle blower who first discovered and revealed the alien frog-like images hidden in the NASA photos from Mars.” The screen cut away to depict those first early still photos that had been all over the news a few months ago.

  “Now, he has uncovered these new shocking videos, which you may have missed if you have been locked away from humanity somewhere,” Rebecca continued. The screen proceeded to show the video of Sergey hitting one of the biosynths with the shovel and grabbing the other, only to have it bite his suit causing a mini explosion. The scene then cut to the NASA message to the astronauts telling them to build bazookas and other similar weapons. As the video faded it was replaced by the female newscaster turning towards the fellow next to her. “Paul, I understand that these new videos were released by you. Can you tell us what you make of them?”

  “Yes, I was the one who released these for the world to see and be warned. The creatures are obviously minions of the Reptilians,” the man stated emphatically. “You can see that these things look and act like snakes, but they aren’t the actual threat. They are only the forefront. The Reptilians are the worst of the aliens who have visited Earth. They dissect and eat mammals, and then drink their blood. They are huge and violent. The Reptoid race is not to be trifled with. I support NASA’s position of creating weapons. They should not have kept this secret. Instead, they should have martialed as many ships from Earth as they could and sent an extermination force. Since that is obviously not happening, the astronauts on Mars should attack these creatures immediately with everything they have. If the Chinese were smart, they would be doing
the same.”

  “You are, of course, referring to the statement issued by China that they have launched their own mission to Mars from their Moon base. The rumor is that they are currently already in Mars orbit and about to land. Do you believe that they will capture the aliens and share any knowledge with the other nations? And what do you think about the colony ship with the group that refers to itself as ‘The Called’; what should those people do?”

  “The Chinese are in it for themselves,” Paul said with distain. “No one should trust them. And the defenseless people on that colony ship had better stay away from the aliens or they’ll end up as the blue plate special on the menu!”

  “Tell our viewers, Paul, how you came into possession of these amazing videos when no one else could,” Rebecca Storm asked breathlessly.

  “Um, I’d rather not say,” Paul stuttered. “But that doesn’t matter. People should stop protesting, and start arming themselves to stop an imminent invasion. The Reptilians aren’t interested in Mars. It’s probably only a base to launch an attack on us here. Luckily, because of my earlier discovery of the alien frog in the rover photos, contributions and media deals flooded in. I amassed a fair bit of wealth, received a movie deal, and bought an underground bunker in the Midwest. As soon as I leave here, I’m going to…”

  At that moment, a huge commotion could be heard in the background with shouts of, ‘Turn off those cameras now!’ heard multiple times. But as the main feed cut off, one intrepid cameraman hidden in a corner kept shooting, so that what happened next could be seen worldwide. Two SWAT team members rushed to the broadcast desk and dragged the news anchor and Rebecca away. Three others surrounded Paul Finkelstein and cuffed his hands behind his back. One of them said, “You are under arrest for hacking into government databases and stealing information vital to this country’s defense. You have been declared a spy, and will be taken in for interrogation.”

  “What about my Miranda rights?” Paul yelled. “I get at least one phone call. I demand to see a lawyer.”

  “You get none of those, traitor,” said the SWAT team lead. “You are going to be tossed into the deepest and darkest cell we have until the brains figure out how you stole these videos. Now get moving,” he said as he dragged Paul away by the arm.

  “But this isn’t fair,” Paul could be heard whining in the distance. “I finally have the money to do what I always wanted to do!”

  A few hundred miles away, the crowd in front of the White House watching on their portable video screens howled in protest, and stormed the gates.

  # # #

  At the same time that the Earth’s nations were in an uproar, Roy and Sam were in spacesuits performing their final preparation of the three rockets on the AB Cycler’s surface. Mars hung like a red beach ball overhead, slowly moving as the Cycler spun.

  “So we’re almost there,” Roy said to Sam. “Let’s load up these bazooka tubes into the Star-Kissed supply rocket. Did you have any problems getting them out?”

  “Not at first. I told the kids that it was time for us to start cleaning up that section of the module in preparation for the new residents. They were getting bored with it anyway, and so they didn’t really care that we were dismantling the Rube Goldberg contraption.” Sam gave a small laugh. “But then I kept them working by showing them that if they held one hand against the side of a tube with the palm facing towards them, and looked through the tube with one eye while keeping both eyes open, then it would look like they had a hole in their palms. One of the kids got the bright idea of holding it against someone’s head. They then began running all over the place as they tried to see who could avoid being told that they had a hole in their heads. It was all I could do to gather up the tubes after that,” she said laughing harder. “I think I’ll really miss the kids after we get the colony settled and head over to the main base.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Roy said. “Alright, that’s the last of them,” he said as he sealed the rocket. “Let’s do one last check for micrometeorite damage and then light these babies.” It was short work for the commander and pilot to perform the final inspection. The rockets were ready.

  The two astronauts moved back away from the ships to where the controls were. Sam initiated the display. The first of the three rockets to launch would be the colony’s habitat and equipment ship. That one contained the bulldozer to create a landing strip and the radar homing beacon. As Mars came back around, Sam waited for the planet to be directly overhead. At the optimum moment, she pressed the launch button.

  The third rocket on the end ‘popped’ up and away as the holding clamps released. The rotation of the asteroid provided the initial impetus, and a spring mechanism imparted a slight spin to stabilize the rocket. When it was a few hundred meters away, the rocket ignited, sending the capsule on its preprogrammed trajectory to the Martian surface.

  Sam waited for Mars to come back around for a second time, and performed the same actions for the colony’s supply rocket, which contained the initial food, medicines and plants. This rocket would follow the previous one by optically tracking it, since it would be only a short distance behind. The rocket successfully released and ignited to follow its fellow capsule to the planet’s surface.

  “One more, and then we can get back inside and track them to make sure they land properly,” Sam said. On the third pass of the red planet overhead, the astronaut initiated the launch sequence, but nothing happened. The control display indicated that one of the clamps had jammed, shutting down the launch process. “Darn,” Sam said. “It looks like we’re going to have to go free the mechanism.”

  “Not a problem,” Roy said. “That’s what the blowtorch we used to cut the netting was for initially. Let’s get it out of the storage bin and head over there.” Soon the astronauts were moving back hand over hand along the webbing towards the last supply rocket with the blowtorch in tow.

  # # #

  While Roy and Sam were busy freeing the third rocket with the blowtorch, Brother Jacobs was in his cabin. He had watched on his cabin’s wall-screen the two astronauts launch the colony’s rockets from the asteroid’s surface, and had then switched to watching the news videos from Earth. As they played in the background, he perused Jean’s diary for the latest entries. There was only one new line, which mentioned how to properly set the hangar for the Pegasus departure by locking the doors, evacuating the chamber and rotating the platform to point the Pegasus for exit. It seemed very straightforward to Brother Jacobs. He proceeded to look at past entries to refresh his memory, paging through the sections on the Pegasus manual door locks and the instrument panel choices which allowed the spaceship to fly itself or allow the user to override the automated procedures. He kept thinking what a shame it was that they were close enough to actually land on Mars now, but had to wait a month in a looping orbit while their home was deployed and checked.

  He looked up when he was interrupted from his reveries by a commotion on the screen. The news was replaying a video of a man who was being dragged away with the caption below stating, ‘Man who uncovers NASA video of alien attack arrested for treason.’ Brother Jacobs quickly set the controls to record the broadcasts and started scanning the various channels. Soon, he found a replay of Channel 84’s interview with Paul Finkelstein. Brother Jacobs watched the whole broadcast three times, and as he did so he became more and more incensed. “Chinese on their way and about to land to attempt capture of the Great Consciousness!” he thought in furor. “NASA astronauts making weapons to destroy our destiny!” he fumed. “Our two NASA watchdogs have been hiding information from me!” he thought as he gritted his teeth.

  Brother Jacobs froze the screen at the point where it depicted the snake-like creatures on Mars fighting with Sergey. “As I thought, these fools will ruin everything by attacking what we came to join with,” he murmured. “I have not come all of this way and worked so hard only to be frustrated at the last minute.”

  Just then, his computer monitor chimed. He had a message.
He went over to it and pressed the play indicator. The monitor displayed a close-up of an Oriental man. “To the leader of the Called, who is approaching Mars, I direct this plea. My name is unimportant, and in fact I need to remain anonymous if I am to ensure my safety. I am a member of an offshoot of the Tibetan exile community. I know that you are a man of peace and brotherhood, as are we. I give you this warning. Do not trust the Chinese. They are violent, and wish to control every resource for themselves. They will destroy or capture any and all aliens and their technology.” The man looked over his shoulder and turned back with a worried look. “I have little time. You must be the vanguard of humanity. Do not let any intelligence’s first contact be with the Chinese. It would be a disaster for all of Earth. Please, be the first to achieve peace and harmony with any Martian.” The man looked over his shoulder again, and hastily stood. He turned back to the screen and leaned in close. “They have found me! I must go. Remember, be the first!” The screen went dark.

  Brother Jacobs looked at the blank monitor for a few seconds, and then turned away. Still on his cabin’s wall-screen was the frozen image of Sergey and the creatures. The leader of the Called looked from the wall-screen to the diary in his hand and back to the screen, and came to a decision.

  He stood and walked over to a control panel that allowed him to talk over the cycler’s speaker system. “Attention, brothers and sisters,” he said. “Today’s afternoon meeting is cancelled. Instead, please remain in your cabins and meditate. Our new home is on its way to land on Mars, and we will shortly follow. Please focus on thinking pure thoughts of the Great Consciousness. Tell him we are near, and that we will arrive to merge with him shortly. All afternoon chores are cancelled. Please send out multiple thoughts of peace and success.” He paused a moment, and then continued. “Platinum One, report to my chambers. We need to discuss our preparations. Platinum One, please come see me immediately.”