Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (92 page)

“Rog.”

They
jacked the broken wheel as high as they could, replaced it, and shoveled sand
between and around the rocks. Then they lowered the wheel onto the sand, raised
the jacks, shoveled sand under them, and repeated the process.

“Think
that’s enough?” said Jeff.

“I don’t
know. The centerline wheels are off the ground. That puts all the mass on two
wheels, and most of it on just one. And it’s digging in as we watch.”

“Yeah,
well, let’s try it. Back her up… slowly.”

Gabe
climbed into Andy and tried to backup. “His wheels are spinning.”

“Then
stop. Stop!”

“Okay,
I’m stopped.”

“Don’t
let
Andy
dig in, or we’ll have two things to dig out.”

“Okay,
but what do you want me to do?”

“Just
hang on, let me think about this for a minute. I think this would work on
Earth, but here he just doesn’t have enough weight to obtain sufficient
traction from a standing start to move the module when it’s sitting this way.”

“Alright,
makes sense. So, what do we do?”

“I’m
working on it. This would be a lot easier if I weren’t wearing this damn helmet
and could scratch my chin.”

Gabe
laughed.

“Alright,
Plan B.”

“And what
is Plan B?”

“We jack
up the other side, shovel sand under the other three wheels, and keep doing
same until we’ve got it level. Then we hope that
Andy
has enough
traction to pull it forward off the sand mounds. Then we let gravity take over
and as soon as you’ve got some forward momentum, hammer down, keep moving, and
head for the beaten path.”

“Okay, if
you say so.”

“It’s
like 4-wheeling in sand on Earth. So long as you keep moving, you’re fine.
Stop, and you have a problem.”

“Have you
ever done that?”

“Yeah.
What? That wasn’t in the curriculum at Caltech?”

“Um, no.”

“Hmmm,
poor planning. Alright, come here, let’s get started.”

An hour
later Jeff and Gabe stood staring at the kitchen module, sitting high atop four
three-foot mounds of sand.

“You
really think this will work?” said Gabe.

“I don’t
know. It’s all I can think of.”

“Even if
we get it moving forward it will bottom out on that last mound before the rear
wheel comes up over it.”

“Yeah, so
what?”

“Well…”

“Well,
what? You designed these things. Aren’t they strong enough to handle some
sand?”

“I think
so.”

“Some
physicist you are.”

“My area
of expertise is high-energy plasma, not Martian sand.”

“Right.
Okay, drive.”

She got
in
Andy
and slowly pulled forward. The rover’s wheels immediately
started to dig in.

“Reverse!”
yelled Jeff. “Backup and rock it! If it rolls off backwards, go full throttle
backwards. If it goes off forward, hammer down forward!”

“Don’t
yell at me!”

“I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. We just need to get this damn thing out of here.”

“I
understand.” She began rocking the module fore and aft until it finally rolled
forward down the mounds.

“You’ve
got it! Full speed ahead!”

As Gabe
pressed the joystick fully forward,
Andy
lurched and the kitchen module
bounced over the last sand mound, and she pulled forward into the flat.

“Outstanding!”
yelled Jeff. “Keep going. You’re clear. Head east toward Main Street and don’t
stop until you’re on solid footing.”

“What
about you?”

“I’ll
walk.”

“As you
please.”

After
trudging a quarter mile through Martian sand, Jeff finally caught up with Gabe
and stood beside the rover, panting. “You couldn’t find someplace a little
closer to stop?”

“You’ve
been in space for seven months, you need the exercise.”

“Oh,
great, now you’re a physical therapist?”

“I’m
multi-talented.”

He climbed
in and buckled up. “No argument there, but I think next time I’m gonna drive.”

She
laughed.

Jeff
pointed south. “Let’s go home.” He switched his radio back to channel one.
“Abby, we’re on our way back.”

“Rog. You
get it?”

“Yeah.
Took a bit of work, but we’ve got it. How are you two doing?”

“We’re
just finishing the utility room-commons cross-connect.”

“You only
got two done? Why are they taking so long?”

“Well,
like I said, it goes a lot faster when all of us are working together on these
things. But more to the point, we noticed some settling and have been
re-leveling most of the habs. Figured we should do that before you got back.”

“Oh,
crap. How much?”

“Up to
two inches in some places. But it’s not consistent, it seems to depend on the
depth of the sand before you reach bedrock.”

“Wow. Um,
god, we’re gonna have to keep an eye on that. I’m beginning to wonder if we
shouldn’t have found a place where we could site it on a big slab of rock.”

“Oh god,
Jeff, please tell me you’re not thinking about moving this?”

“Some
settling is to be expected,” said Gabe. “As you noticed when we landed, this
sand does compress, but it’s not quicksand. Some of those modules have been
sitting here for two years, and none of them sank. We just need to check them
periodically, it’ll stabilize.”

“Okay.
Well, Abby, there’s your answer. See you in about twenty minutes.”

“Rog.”

Upon
returning to the station, Gabe backed the kitchen module into the west side
between Abby and Susan’s bedrooms. Then they leveled it and removed the wheels,
removed the towing tongue, reattached it to the opposite side, and mated it
with the commons, then joined Abby and Susan.

“Okay,
that’s that,” said Jeff. “All nine in place. Home sweet home.”

“Cool,”
said Abby. “We’re just about finished with this cross-connect. Why don’t you go
pull out another one, and we’ll join you as soon as we’re done.”

“Rog.
Gabe, how about your room?”

“Fine
with me. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a real bed.”

“You’re
not alone.” Jeff stepped up on the tongue connecting Gabe’s bedroom to the
commons, opened the hatch, pulled out the cross-connect, and they wrestled it
into place. “Hmmm. Abby, you’re right, this a lot harder with only four hands.”

“Told you
so. We’re torqueing the bolts on this one, be there in a minute.”

Three
hours later, all the cross-connects were in place.

“We’re
running low on air,” said Susan.

“Yeah, I
know,” said Jeff. “Why don’t you and Abby climb into the Genesis, Gabe and I’ll
close all the hatches and start pressurizing, and when you’re ready, dock the
Genesis with the airlock.”

“Okay.”

Jeff and
Gabe returned to the suit room, closing both airlock hatches behind them,
vacuumed as much sand and dust off their suits and the floor as they could,
then wandered throughout the hab closing all the hatches that had been left
open during the cross-connect installation process.

In the
commons, Gabe switched on the main computer and brought up the environmental
system display. “Okay, we’re on the grid and have power. All solar arrays are
online and all batteries charged. Looks like we are good to go.”

Jeff
grasped her shoulder and squeezed. “Excellent. Let’s get some air in here.”

“Roger
that. Exhaust valves closed, Emergency Purge activation, and pressurizing all
cross-connects with pure O
₂
.”

Every
component of the habitat had been pressure tested on Earth, but the seals on
the recently assembled cross-connects and ventilation ducting were a question
mark. And rather than risk wasting precious nitrogen, they would pressure test
with oxygen, which they could manufacture with the Sabatier reactors. As air
normally entered through the habitat modules and exhausted via the
cross-connects, the only means of independently pressurizing the cross-connects
was the Emergency Purge system, a large version of the oxygen purge system in
their PLSSs.

Jeff
watched the display of atmospheric pressure in each of the eight cross-connects
as they slowly rose. At 13.5 psi, Gabe closed the inlet valves to all the
cross-connects, isolating them from one another. Any significant leaks would be
seen as a pressure drop almost immediately. They would test for minor leaks
with a longer pressure test as time and convenience permitted. They all held.
“Looks good.”

“Yes. I’m
a little surprised; I would have thought we’d have at least one little leak
somewhere. Let’s give it a couple more minutes.”

“How much
air have you got left?”

“About 40
minutes.”

“I’m down
to about 20, so let’s not take too long.”

Gabe
turned from the console and frowned at Jeff. “How’d you use up so much air?”

“I had to
hike a quarter-mile to catch up with you.”

She
grinned. “Oh, yeah.” Then she set the habitat thermostat to 70, switched on the
floor heaters and central gas heater, and began flooding the habs with air, an
80-20 mix of nitrogen and oxygen. “Should take about 10 minutes.”

Jeff
nervously watched the hab pressures rise, while keeping a close eye on his own
oxygen reservoir gauge.

When the
pressure reached 8.3 psi Gabe said, “Okay, that’s suit pressure, open your
purge valve and let it equalize, before the suit starts collapsing around you.”

“Got it.”

She did
the same.

“What’s
are comparative altitude?”

“On
Earth?”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh,
about 12,800 feet. But you’re still breathing nearly pure O
₂
, but
your ears are going to start popping pretty soon.”

Jeff felt
the pressure rise in his ears, cocked his head and worked his jaw. “They
already are.”

“We did
this a lot slower on the Sundancer, so it wasn’t quite as noticeable. We’re
going to drop from here to sea level in a little over four minutes.”

“That’s
like skydiving.”

“Not
quite that fast, but the concept is similar.”

“How fast
does a skydiver fall?”

“I don’t
know, never done it. Given terminal velocity, probably around… 175 feet per
second.”

“And how
fast are we going down?”

“About 50
feet per second.”

“Oh, well
that’s not so bad.”

“About
like a 3,000 foot per minute decent in the plane.”

“That’s
kind of quick.”

“Yes, a
little quicker than I’d want to come in for a landing.”

“Uh,
yeah.”

“Okay,
coming up on 10 psi. You can take your helmet off.”

“Alright.”
He rotated the neckring, cautiously removed his helmet, and took a deep breath.
“Ah, air. How nice.”

Gabe
smiled.

“You’re
not going to take yours off?”

She shook
her head. “I’ve got plenty of air left. I’ll keep it on until things have
stabilized.”

Jeff
frowned. “Oh, gee, that’s comforting.”

“If you
suddenly pass out, I’ll have to put your helmet back on.”

“Ah, good
point. Uh, it’s cold in here.”

“Yes,
about freezing, but a lot warmer than it was. The furnace can only do so much
on the first pass. Once were satisfied the pressure is holding, we’ll start to
recirc, and it should heat up fairly quickly.

“Right.
Remind me to wear some gloves for a while. I touch anything and I’m liable to
stick to it.”

Gabe
grinned. At 14.3 psi, she secured the airflow and closed all the module inlet
valves. “Alright, let’s see. Any leaks to the atmosphere will show up as a
pressure drop in the module. A leak into a cross-connect will appear as a
pressure drop in the module and corresponding increase in the cross-connect.
Keep your fingers crossed.”

He
chuckled. “Have you ever tried crossing your fingers in these gloves?”

She held
her hands out, trying to cross her fingers. “Hmmm, doesn’t work very well, does
it?”

Abby’s
voice came over the radio. “Jeff, we’re in the Genesis. You ready for us to
dock with the airlock?”

“Yeah,
you can go ahead and dock whenever you’re ready, but we don’t have the airlock
pressurized yet. We’re pressure testing the habs now, it’ll be a few more
minutes. Also, it’s colder than hell in here, you might want to wait until we
can get it warmed up a bit.”