(35) Day 22 1200 After the Trial
As he approached the house Dirk thought, “Why didn’t Dad stop to talk to me? Is he that mad? He didn’t seem angry at the trial.”
Radius and his dad were talking. “I’ve optested the leg across its full operational range. The leg itself seems fully functional, but my locomotive abilities remain suboptimal,” Dirk overheard Radius saying.
“Interesting,” said his dad. “Could it be a class problem with the replacement legs?”
“I don’t think so,” said Radius. “The first two legs were clearly deficient – the first missing the control circuitry, and the second the servos and joints – only the external shell remained. I could tell immediately by its lightness, stripped of the valuable parts, like a vehicle on Earth after being stolen. This leg is unaltered.”
His dad turned to him. “That was either a bit of luck or an indication that we have a bigger problem than we thought,” he said.
“What’s going on?” Dirk asked.
“I’ve been talking to Radius to try to figure that out. Now Radius, has the leg functionality improved with use?”
“Yes,” said Radius. “Initially it took multiple milliseconds for the leg to respond to inputs. Now it occurs almost within the appropriate parameters.”
“So you are learning to use it, getting used to it?” Mr. K asked.
Radius paused. “Yes, that describes the process.”
“That makes sense. You are an incredibly complex, not just complicated, individual. Even though it stands to reason that a leg built to the same specifications as your original leg, and designed to work with your body, would work as intended automatically, it also stands to reason that a ‘getting acquainted’ period is necessary before the two complex systems can work together seamlessly.”
“The same thing happens with humans who get prosthetic limbs. It takes some time for the nerves to learn the pathways,” said Dirk.
“I disagree,” said Radius. “You are applying biological metaphors to a non-biological system. I think it must result from a design flaw or mistakes in the software. Since this leg was built I have had software updates, and incompatibilities in the many trillions of lines of code governing my activity are causing the difficulty.”
“That’s possible,” agreed Mr. K, “But I offer that since your leg functionality is improving, without code rewriting, the learning metaphor offers a valid explanation. But we can leave that to the side for now.”
“Yeah,” said Dirk to Radius. “I’m glad it’s working.
“Why didn’t they throw the book at me for taking the leg? They didn’t mention it at all,” he asked his dad.
“Yes, what is the situation now?” asked Radius.
“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you – your limp distracted me,” Mr. K said. “Dirk is being punished for trespassing through the town at night.”
“Not for theft?” Radius asked, his voice rising in pitch at the end, as if in surprise.
Mr. K worried, said, “I would have been happier if it had been for theft.”
“What?” Dirk exclaimed. “You’d be happy if I were in jail!”
“No, no, no,” his dad said soothingly. “I mean that you have happened upon something that is clearly illegal, is going on outside of the Company’s knowledge and approval, and seems to implicate the Director and the Sergeant in some sort of scheme that I cannot right now figure out.”
Dirk paused. “Ok, so if they had accused me of theft, (which it really wasn’t since we paid for the leg and the Company ultimately owns the parts anyway)” he said, nodding reassuringly at Radius, “that would have been straightforward. We could have contacted the Company lawyers and they would have straightened everything out, and we’d report the problems with the spare parts.”
“Yes,” his dad agreed. “But now it seems that you have stumbled upon something bigger, and I’m not sure how to proceed. I’ll have to think about it for a while.”
“But you didn’t tell Radius the funny part,” said Dirk, relaxing a little now that his dad had taken the load of figuring out what to do.
“You tell him,” his dad said with a smile.
“My punishment is to be weighed down so I can’t parkour. I have to wear the equivalent of an additional 40 Earth pounds,” Dirk said with a laugh.
Radius had to think for a minute. “But your dad already has you wearing 80 earth pounds, though I notice you are not wearing it now.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to look bulky for the trial and now I’m really glad I didn’t wear it,” Dirk responded. “But what are we going to do about compliance? Do I go in for my weigh-in in what I usually wear?”
“It is not only the weigh-in – they can review your weight based on the sensors in your shoes, anytime with the 24 hours notice. So I think the most prudent course of action is to wear your normal weighted clothing. Though actually I was thinking you should add some weight anyway.”
“Add weight!” Dirk said. “Why? You are punishing me now too?” His anger ramped up quickly.
“Was it a punishment when I started having you wear the weights?”
“No,” admitted Dirk.
“You are wearing the weights to preserve your strength. I wear weighted clothing too. I’m convinced that the gravity here on Mars in insufficient for human health – without the weights, and the stress it puts on your body, I think you’ll develop various diseases. Not only osteoporosis, but others because the gravity is too low to give your body the signals for which it was designed. In other words, our bodies don’t get the feedback here required for proper functioning. Of course, I could be wrong, and we may adapt fine, but based on Lunar experiences, I think I’m right. On the Moon they medicate and electro-stimulate as necessary to counter the damage. We are doing similar things on Mars, but I would rather you, since you are still growing, get more ‘natural’ feedback, even if it’s artificially imposed. Your weighted clothing now is still only about 30% of the necessary load. You’ve had time to acclimate to Mars now, so I think we should bump it up 50%. I have some extremely dense material left over from some of the cosmic ray shielding for the mainframes that I’ve added into another vest as well as a set of suspenders. The density provides weight without bulkiness.”
Dirk groaned – but he admitted the utility.
“But what will we say when I weigh way over the required weight?”
His dad thought for a moment. “We’ll say that I agree with the punishment, and added the weight to punish you even more.”
“You could say you are afraid he will get hurt, and that is why you added more weight – so he cannot engage in activities that would present high risk to his safety,” Radius added.
Mr. K laughed. “Nicely put Radius. You are thinking like an Earth parent now.”
“Or,” Dirk said, “Like someone who recently broke a leg.”
Radius smiled and Dirk and his Dad laughed. “Ok Dirk, you should get to work.”
“But Dad, there are not any deliveries scheduled for today.”
“Though there are no deliveries scheduled, the maintenance requirements still demand our attention,” said Radius.
Dirk hung his head. “I thought going on trial was enough for one day. And I’m tired from the ‘trespassing’ last night.”
“I don’t think there would be any harm in knocking off a little early then, but you do need to get down there. I’ll make you some breakfast while you get changed,” his dad said.
Dirk headed to his bedroom.
(36) Day 22 1530 Punishment Delivered
The day passed uneventfully. Radius’ limp disappeared by the time they reached the Crane Farm, and he let Dirk rack out and take a nap while did he most of the preventative maintenance. Radius could do most of the work himself. Indeed, since he didn’t have to look up procedures in the technical manuals or review the checklists for performing the various checks he was faster than Dirk. However, some checks he couldn't perform. Most often this was due to the need for
removal and reinstallation of a part that was fastened such a way that an awkward position from which to exert sufficient torque to move the fastener was required. For example, a check on the radar servo required reaching up and turning a nut on a bolt in a small gap underneath the main housing. Radius, because of the way he was made, couldn’t exert sufficient torque through the wrench with his army fully extended. Radius could have turned it easily with his finger strength alone, however, the nut was partially enclosed by the housing and he couldn’t fit his hand in far enough to get sufficient purchase on the nut. Dirk had teased Radius about it initially, but now he performed the various tasks without comment, grateful all the maintenance was not his task alone.
“I wonder how long it will take the Company to design and build everything so that it is all Robot maintainable and repairable,” he said to Radius, feeling much better after his ‘nooner’ nap.
“I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already,” Radius replied.
“I bet they thought they did,” Dirk said, “Especially for the extra planetary stuff, but I guess they didn’t redesign all the elevator parts for robot construction. They probably used the existing Earth elevator plans and parts.”
Mr. K walked into the workshop.
“Hey guys,” he said. “I brought you a present, Dirk.”
“Oh great,” Dirk said. “Thanks.”
“You are so welcome,” his dad said with exaggerated cheerfulness. “Here are the suspenders, weighted belt, gaiters for your boots, and a couple of extra clips for your vest.”
Dirk put on his new weight gear. “Ugh. This feels like 200 pounds!”
“You’ll have to get used to it,” his dad said. “It’s good for you!”
“Thanks for putting this together. But why did you walk down here with it? I could have picked it up from you tonight,” Dirk said.
“Two reasons,” his dad responded. “One, in case of a surprise inspection I don’t want to give the Sergeant any excuse to punish you further. Who knows, maybe they are hoping to hammer you for a lack of compliance. Two, I need to work out. I even made myself a set of the suspenders.” He opened his coat, showing the suspenders across his chest. “I’ve atrophied more than I’d like to admit. I was too easy on myself, and didn’t start wearing the weighted gear until immediately before you arrived.”
“I didn’t know your set was just as heavy!” Dirk said surprised.
“Yes, like I said, it is a health issue. What, you thought I was really doing it to pick on you? I’d be picking on you if I didn’t give you the tools you require to grow up healthy and strong. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work and you should too.”
“Ok Dad,” Dirk said. “Thanks.”
(37) Day 22 1730 Dirk makes a Swimming Proposal
“Hey Dad, in the early days of the terraforming, didn’t they use asteroids?” Dirk asked his dad as they sat down to an early dinner, after Dirk had taken a power nap.
“Yes, Dirk, they sure did – boatloads, so to speak. There are three asteroid belts, other than the Main belt (or the ‘missing planet zone’) between Mars and Jupiter. The Amor belt is between Earth and Mars, and hence of most interest to us here. Most early asteroids were C – type from the Amor belt. The Aten belt orbits completely between Earth and Venus. It was discovered in the 1970s. The Apollo belt also passes between Earth and Venus, but its orbit also extends to the orbit of Mars, so it had some utility for Martian purposes. There were about 10,000 near Earth asteroids, with about 2000 potentially useful from a harvesting perspective. The ones richest in water were actually harvested for fuel purposes, so the ones that met two criteria were sent to the Martian surface – One, they passed close to Mars, so the energy costs of shifting their orbits to impact Mars was manageable. Two, they had water, but not so much that they were worth more as fuel sources than as Martian terraforming resources.”
“But Dad, isn’t getting water to Mars more important than anything else?” asked Dirk.
His dad laughed. “Of course, to you and me here on Mars, but more happens off Terra than Mars related activity. Even 100 years ago there was a huge amount of space based work (satellite repair, zero-g fabrication facility construction, asteroid mining, lunar colonization, space elevator loading and unlading, etc.) all of which required fuel. Today the Company produces most of its fuel from ice found on asteroids. A fleet of 6 ships is dedicated to Amor belt ice mining activity to serve the fuel needs of inner solar system Company activity.”
“In addition,” his dad continued, “Not everyone was convinced of the utility of colonizing Mars, especially with the colonization of the Moon proceeding quickly and providing many of the services Mars colonization would supposedly make possible. Mars competed, and still does, with the Moon for colonization resources, and therefore Mars didn’t automatically have a claim on the asteroids richest in ice. And remember, Mars is not actually inadequately supplied with water – the water is simply not optimally distributed from a human colonization point of view. Most of the water is locked up in the polar ice caps and the permafrost.”
“And we use the waste heat from the Power Plant to melt that permafrost in the Swamp by the greenhouses,” said Dirk.
“Right,” his dad responded. “So the C-types with water, but not too much water, were crashed into Mars, mostly in the Northern hemisphere lowlands. The C-type were especially desirable because while they contain water, they also posses other gases in frozen form, like carbon dioxide, and additional minerals. The off gassing of these materials and minerals as they plummeted down helped thicken the thin Martian atmosphere. For about 20 years in the middle of the last century there was an asteroid impact for terraforming purposes every 2 weeks. With a good telescope it was possible to discern the comas of the asteroids, looking like comets, as they bounced through the upper levels of the Martian atmosphere. I can still remember, after hiking with my Troop, peering through the telescope at Palomar Mountain at a series of 15 asteroids descending toward Mars to commemorate 25 years of terraforming activity. The weekend consisted of the final hike required for the hiking merit badge, a 20 miler, and while most of the guys stayed asleep, exhausted after the long day, my best friend Jack and I woke up for our chance at the telescope.”
“It must have been worth it if you still remember it now,” Dirk said. He’d never heard the story before, and it made him realize that his dad was actually quite old.
His dad paused, and smiled. “It sure was! Even then I knew I wanted to do something in space, but I never dreamed that I’d actually be on Mars. The lunar colonies were built up by that time, and it seemed that there was really no reason to go to Mars, as far as most people were concerned. It was only a few visionaries, and of course the brilliant men at the Company, who maintained Mars as a priority.”
“We don’t know if those Company guys were brilliant yet or not. This might not work.” Dirk said.
His dad looked at him with surprise. “Not work! It’s working now! We are the lead scouts for the settling of an entire planet! The Lunar colonists are forced to live underground for protection from cosmic rays and meteorite impacts. Without an atmosphere Luna will never be completely self-sustaining. Of course, with the space elevator and the activity density in near Earth orbit that does not constitute a fatal flaw - they can persist as the control point at the top of the gravity well supported by Earth.”
His dad was becoming impassioned. “But Mars! Mars! This is a planet, a planet coming alive. We’ll be able to live and grow here for generations, and if we are even remotely intelligent we’ll be able to do it without 80% of the friction that acts as such a drag on productivity back on Earth.”
“What do you mean, ‘without 80% of the friction’? Because of the lower gravity and lower atmospheric density?” Dirk asked.
His dad smiled. “No, in this case I’m actually using the idea of friction metaphorically, the way Clausewitz did in his discussion of war. Clausewitz used the concept of friction as a way to articul
ate the difficulties that continuously emerge in attempting to prosecute military operations. Communications go awry, orders are misunderstood, troops fail to appear in the right place at the appointed time, equipment breaks, people disagree, and so on. This friction affects not only war, but all human activities. We will not be able to eliminate it, but our focus on the narrow, technological task we have set for ourselves, and the small number of people involved, means that we can reduce the friction to a great degree, certainly more than anything that happens on Earth. As our population grows, and we start to deal with questions of organizing our human society and the conflicts that emerge among the various interests in that society, the friction will increase. However, that will not be for many years yet, I hope. Everyone here has an interest in seeing this colony succeed.”
“What do you mean,” Dirk asked. “I thought we were working for the Company. The Company has an interest in seeing it succeed, but we as individuals don’t really.”
“Oh yes we do. Who do you think the Company is?” his dad inquired.
“Staff hired on Earth and shareholders among pension funds and mutual funds and stuff and then people on Earth, Luna and on the various ships harvesting asteroids,” Dirk replied.
“Yes, that is correct, but who do you know among that number?”
Dirk thought a moment. “Um, the staff is everyone here, so I know most of them.”
“Exactly, and you are a part of that.”
“But we are simply salaried employees.”
His dad laughed. “Not at all. We are owners! Not only are we shareholders in the Company, that is we own stocks, but we also own part of Mars. I own my house, your house (which you are working to earn yourself) as well as parcels of land both near the City and throughout the planet. I put about 70% of our life savings into Mars – some of it is back on Earth as a hedge against Maritain disaster.”
Dirk was shocked. He had thought only as far as his paycheck, which actually didn’t seem all that big, but he figured he’d worry about that later. He was at first excited about the prospect of earning almost as much as he would have from sponsorships on Earth – about 2 million, not bad for someone starting out in the lower professional leagues. It was a decent wage on Earth, but his excitement had died when he realized there was nothing to buy on Mars, and no experiences to pay for - there was no one to pay. Therefore, he hadn’t thought much about money since arriving.
His dad continued. “Everyone involved in the colony has a personal ownership stake in it. As the experience of both Jamestown in 1607 and Plymouth colonies showed, without personal property colonies fail – people will not work sufficiently hard absent an adequate incentive, and property is the best incentive we’ve found.”
The conversation now gave Dirk the opportunity to suggest an idea he’d been working on for two months to increase the fun quotient of Martian life – a place to swim.
“That’s all great, and good to know, but I asked because I was thinking that we could land a water heavy asteroid in the volcano, Tharis Minutus, southeast of the city. It is far enough away that the impact would not threaten the City, and yet close enough that it would serve as a backup reservoir.”
Dirk paused. “In the future we could even use the water there for irrigation – and swimming,” he finished with a smile.
His dad thought about it for a moment, and then pulled up a map of the region. He stared intently at the display, noting the elevation of the volcano and its position relative to the City and Crane Farm.
“That is a great idea, Dirk,” he said. “Right now we are entirely dependent on the built reservoir – if anything happens to that, we are out of luck. The City was intentionally built on rock, with very limited permafrost in the area. We didn’t want the City to sink into the muck as the planet warmed. The permafrost sectors near the city, predominantly to the east, are used primarily for methane production. The flamingo harvest is a positive externality of the methane mining activity. The water they gather is pumped into the storage tanks inside the Power Plant. When we exceed the storage capacity the water flows downhill into the constantly growing marsh, and what doesn’t remain in the marsh flows down into the Valles Marineris.”
Dirk smiled – his dad liked the idea.
“I’ve actually been thinking a lot about how to increase the anti-fragility of the City. We are sufficiently small now to be able to survive most major disasters, but as the City grows, as it will, we must to create a system of systems that will enable survival across the full range of potential threats. I’d considered building a reservoir but this is an even better idea. Nice work. Write this up. Do a point paper on it, with some drawings, and send it to me tonight.”
Dirk groaned and anger flared– paper writing was among his least favorite activities. “So I’m being punished for having a good idea by you forcing me to write a paper about it!”
“Calm down, son,” his dad said. “A paper is a way to communicate your ideas quickly and clearly to other people. You are going to have to share your ideas your entire life, and persuade others of their utility. Unless of course you want to keep working at the Crane Farm forever - until the Elevator makes it obsolete.”
Dirk was still angry.
“Tell you what. You do the initial write up and the basic calculations on the delivery. You should be able to do that in five minutes – it is a special case of a delivery to the Crane Farm, with a geographic offset to the Tharis Minutus. I’ll finish the formatting for you and give it a read over and send it on to Nordo at the NEO Mining division to see what he thinks.”
Somewhat mollified, Dirk said, “Ok. Is tomorrow soon enough?”
“Sure, no rush,” his dad said. “It is a great idea. Include your thoughts on how we’d get the water from Tharis Minutus to the City too. Are you thinking a canal or piping system?”
“I hadn’t planned that far, but I’ll think about it. I’m confident the floor of the crater, from the maps anyway, is higher in elevation than the City, so a gravity feed would work,” he answered.
“Good thinking, Dirk. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
(38) Day 23 1400 Dirk goes Hiking
Already past the rift where Radius had broken his leg and feeling good, in spite of wearing his extra weights, he returned the water bottle to his backpack. “I’m sure I won’t even notice the weights in a week or so, but they are heavy now,” he said to himself. He’d considered not wearing them, but figured he’d never get stronger if he took them off whenever he went on a long hike.
He looked over at the Three Sisters, the ancient volcanoes that ranged in a line southeast from Mount Olympus. “I haven’t really explored much on Mars,” he’d said to himself after work the day before. “I’m at the Crane Farm, playing video games, climbing with Tom and T2 or reading books. On Earth I’d go out every weekend, hiking, swimming, climbing or competing in something. Even weighted clothes won’t keep me from becoming a slug if I never leave the house.”
So he’d decided to go exploring to see what he could see of Tharis Minutus before it was turned into a giant swimming pool. He laughed to himself, surprised that his dad hadn’t called him on the idea of creating a place to swim. “Maybe Dad wants to go for a swim too. The sweatsuits will function as dry suits (probably) so I should be able to swim for a few minutes at least before hypothermia sets in. But I won’t wear the weights!” he said to himself. “I’m not that motivated!”
Striding across the open plain, lava flows here smoothed by 100 million years of Martian winds, Dirk said out loud, forgetting for a second that Radius wasn’t with him, “It’s good to be out here without the time pressure to get a package to the Director or threat of imminent death from a stay package.”
Tharis Minutus made a nice target and the Three Sisters also looked intriguing. “Next trip I’ll climb the peak of the middle one and from there perform a visual recon of the other two in preparation for perhaps a longer climb with Tom,” Dirk thought.
He??
?d started later than he’d wanted to – he couldn’t find his scout knife and had torn the house apart before it finally appeared. “I’m amazed I have enough stuff here to lose things,” he said to himself. “I’ll have to hurry to get to the Tharis Minutus, check out the caldera and be back to the Crane Farm before dark.”
As he walked up the increasing slope, his thoughts turned to the day after he’d arrived. He and his dad had gone for a long walk. His dad said that walking was the best way to get to know a new area, and the only way to acquire a London cabdriver level of ‘The Knowledge’ of a place.
Looking over the landscape, he thought about that first “Introduction to Mars” conversation with his dad as he headed southeast of the city toward Tharis Minutus.
“The geology of Mars is no less complex than that of Earth, its sister planet, but a lot less active now,” his dad had said.
“Exogeologists divide the geologic life of Mars into three main phases. The oldest is the Noachian. During that time the great Northern lowlands were formed. Next comes the Hesperian followed by the current era, the Amazonian. During the early part of this period the Three Sisters and Olympus Mons, all part of the Tharis Majoris, a massive plateau that is the highest area in elevation on Mars, formed. They are similar to the Hawaiian Islands, if the Hawaiian islands didn’t start at the bottom of the ocean, but on the high plateaus of Tibet. The Three Sisters, (Ascraeus Mons, Pavonis Mons and Arisa Mons) were generated by a hot spot, like the Hawaiian Islands, which, as you know, includes the 7 main islands plus over 100 more heading out west toward Japan.”
“As the plate moved over the hot spot, the volcanoes formed. The lava flows to the south and east of the City were the result of earlier volcanoes. Due to evidence of massive outlflows to the east, formed probably by the cataclysmic expulsion of underground aquifers, some exogeologists speculate they are hollow underneath.”
“If there is so much volcanic activity in this area, why did you decide to put the City here? Wouldn’t a less geologically active location prove safer?” Dirk had asked.
“That is good thinking,” his dad had replied. “However, though there may be some residual volcanic activity (though we haven’t sensed any) like the thermal vents of the Marianas trench, we located the City here for two reasons. One, it is on the equator, and thus optimal for Elevator placement. Two, it is the highest flat area on Mars, reducing the Elevator length. As you know, transport costs from Earth are the primary determinants of all, almost all, decisions on Mars.”
Now he was commencing a climb on one of the products of that volcanism, the future Elevator anchor point within sight. Dirk reached the base of the volcano and considered his ascent. “Look like there is a good run, up and toward the right,” Dirk said to himself, and started climbing.
It was getting late, so pausing from force of habit to imprint in his mind a potential descent, ensuring that he didn’t climb to a point where he was unable to either ascend or descend, he continued on. Of course, if he did get stuck he could always take off his extra weights and jump to a more suitable location – he was working with only 30% of Earth gravity after all. However, he didn’t want to rely on that sort of risky action. Planning his climbs based on his Earth training provided him with a built in margin of safety, a margin even more necessary considering he was climbing without a buddy, which is never smart.
He made the rim in good time and looked over.
“Magnificent!” he said. The sides were steep, but not un-climbable. Broken bubble like mounds covered the bottom, where lava had welled up, cooled, and collapsed. With the exception of a large opening on the southeastern side, as if lava had flowed back down through a sink drain, no large openings were visible.
Dirk checked his watch – 1530. Much later than he wanted, but he still had 3 hours of daylight left – time enough to explore before racing home. He mapped out a descent in his mind’s eye before he started down.
“Should take about 30 minutes,” he said to himself. “30 down, 30 to explore, a conservative 60 back up and an hour and a half to get home – no sweat.”
Speaking of sweat, he was very thirsty after the climb, and drank the rest of his second extra bottle. This left him another liter and a half with which to get back – plenty.
Turning around so his back was to the crater, he lowered his left foot onto the first hold. He paused before sinking below the crater rim – he could see the City in the distance – it sure didn’t look like much. The Power Plant, ship and greenhouses were visible, while the other building faded in the dusty haze. The 3D printing process used local sand as the aggregate, so the building blended in with their surrounding, like tents under camouflage netting back on Earth that they had used on a desert campout when he was a Life Scout.
Dirk continued down the crater rim, much steeper than the exterior slope, but still eminently climbable without requiring any special effort. “This slope is pretty nice,” he said to himself as he looked back up, pleased to see multiple options for the return trip.
At the bottom of the caldera the surface was mostly black, with swirls and tiny little craters that looked like they had been made from millions of air bubbles popping. Gazing back up at the slope up to the rim, he visually retraced his steps, imprinting the route in his memory to accelerate the climb back out. “There are probably many egress paths,” he thought to himself, “But I’ll save exploring the alternatives for another time.” Confident he could readily extricate himself from the caldera, he returned his attention to the new environment in which he found himself.
The caldera was approximately 100 yards in diameter, and 100 yards from the floor to the top of the rim. He wandered across, examining the different designs in the cooled lava. “This is all evidence of chaotic fluid dynamics interacting a million years ago.” Dirk thought, “Actually, I have no idea how long ago this was molten – I’ll have to ask Dad.”
When he reached the other side of the caldera he paused from his surface examinations to look up at the sky. He could barely see Phobos, the larger of the two Martian moons, over the southern edge of the crater. Deimos wasn't visible. “It seems brighter than it should,” Dirk thought to himself. “Maybe it is an effect similar to that at the bottom of a well. I’ve heard you can see the stars when you look up if the well is deep enough.”
However, as he looked at the sky a little longer he realized he was seriously mistaken – clouds were blotting out the light from the sun, making Phoebus appear relatively brighter. Clouds on Mars meant only one thing – dust storm.
The weather report had not indicated any large storms brewing. This must be one of the squalls generated on Mons Olympus. They usually flowed down past the Three Sisters before curving down into the northern lowlands. Such squalls were no big deal in the City. When the storm approached it was easy enough to stay inside and delay going home or to some other building to execute a task. The Martian activity pace was such that for most people, except for Power Plant guys like Tom, the greenhouse farmers and himself at the Crane Farm, a delay of an hour or so made little difference.
But he was out of range of the safety provided by the City structures, or the buildings at the Crane Farm. Although the frequency and speed of the squalls compared to terrestrial thunderstorms, they posed a much more serious threat to life, for two reasons. First, due to the scouring effect of the dust even a short storm could turn the lenses of goggles completely opaque with millions of scratches, and cut through clothing like a weedwacker. Second, the dust storms made it impossible to breathe, and even a storm of only 15 minutes would clog the filters on the emergency respirators so that they offered no better protection than putting one’s head in a plastic bag.
“Find shelter right now!” Dirk said to himself, as he started walking quickly, (afraid to run lest he trip and break something on the uneven caldera floor) toward the other side of the crater where he thought he saw an area that might offer some concealment from the storm.
As he approac
hed the southern end of the caldera the surface changed. It was as if he was walking across the tops of waves flowing from the northern wall of the caldera. Dirk climbed a slope about ten feet high and peered over the edge. “This looks promising,” he thought quickly. The slope constituted one side of a little valley between the backside of the lava flow and the caldera wall. He scrambled down carefully – the mid afternoon sunlight had been reduced to the level of twilight immediately after sunset. Walking closer to the caldera wall, he peered intently for an outflow point that might have created a little cave in which he could set up his emergency shelter.
A roar like that of a garbage truck accelerating down the street where he lived on Earth first thing in the morning alerted him to the sandstorm’s arrival before he felt anything. Phoebus was completely gone, and he rummaged through his backpack for his flashlight. “I should have organized this better!” he said to himself, frustrated. Out of practice, his gear wasn’t set up for quick access as it was when on his frequent backpacking trips on Earth.
His hand found the flashlight and he scanned the area in front of him. He saw what appeared to be an alcove of sorts in the wall, and scurried toward it. “This is too shallow,” he thought, disappointed. It was no deeper than a small closet. He pushed himself in, but as he turned around he felt an emptiness off to the right, and moved that way, shuffling his feet in case the emptiness he sensed was from a vertical - not horizontal - opening. He scooted along for about a body length and the space suddenly opened up. It was noticeably quieter, and he could barely feel the wind. The floor was covered with sand blown in, he figured, by storms over the years.
“This is about space the size of my living room,” Dirk thought.
Returning his focus to the problem at hand, “Get into the emergency tent,” Dirk said to himself. Though he was for the most part sheltered from the storm, the air was still filling with sand dust. He pulled on his respirator and unpacked his emergency shelter. It was designed mostly for thermal protection when caught out in the Martian winter, but would also provide protection against the dust. It wouldn’t last long in a full sand storm, but in the shelter of the cave it would be fine. The shelter, a six foot long tube unfurled automatically when he released the straps holding it closed, due to the tensioning poles that gave it its shape. Opened it looked like a sarcophagus made out of nano-coated, insulated fabric. At one end it rose up, giving more room for the head, making it possible to read comfortably while inside.
Dirk did a quick scan and pushed the sand into a pile against a wall, creating a softer surface, and protecting (he hoped) the shelter from any sharp rocks on the floor. He put the shelter down, and unzipped the top half. Removing his boots, he put them underneath the foot of the shelter, against the wall, to prevent sand collection. He’d put them inside the shelter but wanted to reduce the amount of sand in there with him as much as possible. He brushed his clothes down with his hands, and took off his tunic and weighted clothing. After shaking his tunic hard he folded it to use as a pillow. Grabbing his last water bottle, he secured his backpack, lay down in the shelter and zipped himself in.
He lay there, listening to the storm, breathing through his respirator and looking at the inside of the shelter. It was a somewhat comforting sight, reminding him of sleeping inside similar mosquito net shelters while at summer camp.
“I should save my batteries,” Dirk said to himself, and switched off the light.
The darkness was total – the muffled roar of the wind continued in the caldera, accentuating the relative quiet of the cave. “I’m sure glad I found this place,” he said. “I hope the storm passes soon – I’m going to have to hustle to get back home before dark.”
Climbing out of the freshly sanded caldera, especially in the twilight, did not appeal to him.
Dirk sat up slightly and drank more water – he was almost out.
“I’m glad I didn’t bring Radius,” Dirk thought, “Though I’d be happy to have someone to talk to, and he could send an emergency signal letting Dad know we are ok, there isn’t enough room in the shelter for two, and the scouring would certainly not be good for him. He’s had enough trouble recently.”
Dirk lay there listening to the storm for a few minutes, but now that the excitement of the race for shelter was over became bored. Unzipping the shelter quickly, he grabbed the Book out of the backpack, zipped back in, and read for a while.
Upon finishing the second chapter he paused and listened carefully to the storm. “Doesn’t sound like a squall passing through,” he said to himself. “Back on Earth I’d access a satellite map and microclimate forecast, revealing exactly how long the storm will last. But no such luck here today.”
“Maybe I should go out and check,” he thought. But the idea of getting up, putting his boots back on and climbing back into the shelter if the storm continued, adding more sand in the shelter with each activity, was unattractive. “My ears will let me know when the storm passes.”
He read a little more and set his alarm for 60 minutes. “I can take a nap and still make it back in time. No point sitting here waiting for the wind to stop. Nap ops,” he said to himself, and placing the Book by his side closed his eyes for a rest.
(39) Day 23 1700 Cave Awakening
“Beep beep beep beep.” Dirk emerged from a dream about his final kayaking trip to complete the kayaking merit badge at summer camp a few months before his departure for Mars. He stared into the darkness for a moment before turning off the watch alarm. The storm had not abated. “So much for that weather report,” he thought. If the storm was still blowing there was no way he could make it home before dark. “I’m stuck here for the night,” he said, not especially bothered. “Dad will worry, but he knows I’ve the training necessary to survive.”
The shelter in the cave was plenty warm – he needn’t worry about freezing. He only had a protein bar to eat though, and was almost out of water. “I’ll be dehydrated tomorrow, but at least I won’t have to get up in the middle of the night to take a leak,” he said to himself.
Tired from the hike, he drank a little of his remaining water and lay back down – “I’ll eat if I wake up in the middle of the night hungry – otherwise it will make me thirsty,” he thought. After shifting around in the shelter for a minute to get comfortable, he adjusted his tunic/pillow and slept.
Awakened by the silence, Dirk turned on his headlight and lay there staring at the shelter, stretching. Now that he wasn’t so tired, the floor felt uncomfortable. He checked his watch – 0400. “Too early to head back.” After unzipping the shelter, he collapsed it, and put both respirator and shelter in the backpack. “I’ll have to change out those filters when I get home,” he thought. He put on his boots and made his way out of the cave. Not even a slight breeze disturbed the evening – Phobos (not in fact, scary) flew by on its second of its daily orbits, but provided little illumination. The surface of the moon itself, composed of dark regolith, possesses an extremely low albedo, so it provides even less illumination than a waning Moon on Earth.
As Phobos disappeared behind the upper edge of the crater rim he went back inside the cave. He sat down next to his backpack and tried to decide if returning to sleep was a viable option. He sat there, feeling slightly cold. He checked the piezoelectric generator battery built into his trousers – the hike yesterday had it fully charged, and even after sleeping he was still at 70%. It would keep him warm enough, especially if he started moving. Making patterns with his flashlight on the walls and ceiling he considered his options. “One, I can get back in the shelter and read until I fall back asleep – but I fell asleep early yesterday, and don’t think I’ll fall asleep again – too uncomfortable when not exhausted. So two, I can sit here and read, or three, explore this cave.”
He stood up – “Explore. I’d be stupid not to. That is what I’m here for.”
Dirk accidentally drank the last of his water – he’d wanted to save some for the climb and hike back, but it felt so g
ood to drink. As a result, he now had barely enough left in the canteen to make a minor sloshing sound when he shook it. “Oh well,” he said to himself. “That is what comes from inadequate preparation. It won’t be fatal, but I’ll probably have a dehydration headache before I get home.”
Grabbing his backpack he put the Book inside, not for the information in the Book but so he had a camera if he found something cool. The Book camera was much better than the one on his communicator. He had a better unitasker SLR camera, but wanting to travel lightly hadn’t brought it. The laws of optics were such that glass lenses were still big and heavy, and although lots of people found the cameras included in their tablets and communicators sufficient, he still thought it worth it to carry around an SLR. When he was going out to take pictures, he’d bring all his lenses (a telephoto, wide angle and his 70-200). Even though the Orbiters had photographed every inch of the planet, there were still infinite new things to see, especially as the terraforming began to take hold. “I always regret not bringing the camera, but I guess I won’t regret it as I’m climbing back up out of here,” he said to himself.
Dirk shone the light toward the rear of the cave. It seemed to be in kind of an S shape – the entrance was at the top of the S. He’d slept at the middle curve – far enough in to gain some protection from the storm, but not so far that he ran the risk of losing his spatial awareness concerning the entrance to the cave. As he approached the next part of the S curve, the dim light from the entrance vanished, and with it, he desire to explore further.
Last night he’d been more afraid of the storm than the cave, but now that it was calm outside, his unease with spelunking emerged. The relative risk calculus had changed, leading him to reconsider his exploration decision.
“I can’t head back yet, can I?” he thought. “Let’s check the Book.” He pulled up the stored Solrise/Solset tables with the twilight indicators for the equator. “A Sol is longer than an Earth day by 37 minutes, but at the equator the rapidity of sunrise and sunset, with short twilight periods, is the same. So at midsummer the Sol begins at about 0530, meaning I have an hour and a half to explore.”
“I won’t go too far though,” he said to himself, his nervousness at the prospect of going deeper into the cave rising. During an event back on Earth he’d almost lost his way in a cave. The competition, in the western section of Virginia, near the border of West Virginia and North Carolina, included a run, a spelunking section, and finished with a rock climb. He’d been behind during the run – he wasn’t an especially fast runner – and needed to make up some time through the cave. The path was marked with lights, but he also had lights on his helmet and forearms.
He’d run into the cave and proceeded forward into the darkness. He barely heard the guy in front of him up in the distance, but couldn’t see his lights. The path was marked with reflective tape that stood out dramatically in the cave. However, the floor, rocky and uneven, forced him to stay focused on his feet, only checking the tape occasionally. As he figured out later, his mistake was to read the tape that was actually on the left hand side of the path as on the right – as a result, he’d gone off down a side tunnel which had quickly opened up into a large flat area. The problem was he only noticed his mistake after he was in the middle of the space, and thus there were no indications of which way would be most effective in enabling him to trace back his steps.
A scary couple of minutes passed as the realization he was lost sunk in. He was last, it seemed, since he hadn’t heard anyone else behind him once he entered the cave complex. Standing silently, he looked around the empty darkness, attempting to discern some clue indicating his entry point. After what seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, he’d heard someone else puffing through the cave – the sound was enough to orient him and he rejoined the trail, following the racer in front of him and double checking each of the tapes to ensure he was not following someone who was himself lost.
The experience had had two effects. One, it gave him more confidence in caves, confidence that had served him well in later races. Two, it increased the caution with which he approached spelunking. This seems contradictory, but in fact the impulses generated by the experience were complimentary – he was confident in caves when he had the necessary gear and maintained his situational awareness. Lacking the gear, he didn’t go, even if it was a quick dash to explore.
His stance toward spelunking reexamined, he started back. “I’ve two things against me here,” he said to himself. “I don’t have the gear and no one knows where I am – not good. Under here no technology could detect me, and the sandstorm eradicated all trace of my travel out to the cave. If I get lost no one will ever know.”
However, as he reached the cave mouth he thought, “But there is nothing else to do really, so I’ll go only a little ways. It probably doesn’t go far.”
Finally decided, he put on his backpack and headed further into the cave. It curved to the right, completing the S shape. After another curve to the left, the slope steepened. Dirk looked back, but saw only the single pathway along which he’d come – no confusing branches so far.
He continued down the corridor. The tunnel was predominately smooth. He paused often, examining the colors on the walls. “These must be created by the various minerals in the lava that produced this tube,” he thought. He made the only sounds he heard. The rustle of his clothing, steps and breathing echoed softly. He checked his watch.
“Ten minutes. No way to tell how far I’ve gone, with all this stopping,” he said.
The path sloped down gently and curved slightly to the right. Dirk walked around another curve, and tumbled awkwardly down, landing on his back, and dropping the flashlight in an effort to catch himself. The flashlight slowly rolled to a stop at the bottom of the slope. Dirk shifted his weight onto his left side to reduce the pain caused by a large rock poking his right hip.
Initially, a surprised “Ugh,” was all Dirk could manage. He moved a few rocks out from underneath himself, sat more comfortably, and stared at the rock on the floor of the corridor the flashlight uselessly, but effectively, illuminated.
Unwilling to take another tumble, after catching his breath Dirk crab walked down the slope to the flashlight.
Dirk sat down and reached out for the light. “How far did I fall?” he asked himself, intending to quickly scan the slope behind him to determine how much trouble he was actually in. He grabbed the light and stopped, his gaze arrested by a strange pattern in the sand adjacent to the illuminated rock.
“It looks like someone had drawn a line with a stick in the sand, but that doesn’t make sense,” Dirk thought. He peered more closely. There was a line, interrupted by rocks occasionally, with little circle marks on either side. The line wiggled slightly from side to side. “Did rolling rocks from the wind make the marks?” Dirk asked himself, but that didn’t seem likely.
“Snake,” Dirk said to himself. “That is what it looks like, but I don’t know what those dots are on the sides.”
He sat staring for a few minutes, his precarious situation forgotten.
“I’m taking a picture of this, whatever it is.”
Pulling the Book out of his backpack, not worried about its functionality, he swiped to the photo app. The Books were hardened, the screens made out of sapphire, the bodies a titanium alloy. Teenager induced compression had no effect.
Placing a few rocks together to make a platform, he balanced the light in order to illuminate one of the better-formed tracks. “I should put something in there for scale,” he thought, after taking a few pictures, and pulled out the Book stylus. The stylus wasn’t always necessary, but when wearing gloves in the cold it made navigating the Book much easier. He placed it carefully next to the track and took more pictures.
“I’ll show these to Tom’s wife,” he thought. “An exobiologist, who has only dealt with searching for fossils on Mars thus far, she’ll be excited to see something potentially living.”
&
nbsp; “Hold on,” he said to himself. “Let’s be realistic – she’ll be able to debunk this as evidence of life. It’s probably an artifact of wind from storms moving pebbles or something.”
Dirk took a deep breath, his excitement tempered by the realization several challenges remained ahead of him before he could take the time necessary to think about what he had found. He put the stylus away in the Book case and shone the light up the slope.
“Not bad,” he said. It was only about a 10-foot drop, at about a 50-degree angle. He could have walked down it if it had not surprised him. Securing the Book inside, he zipped his backpack and started back up on his hands and knees.
“No sense in taking any additional risks – and there is no one here to laugh at me anyway,” he said to himself.
He reached the mouth of the cave complex without further incident. Too excited to sit still now, he said to himself “I’ll use the flashlight to get as far as I can, and then wait for dawn if necessary.”
Dirk surveyed the area. Twilight illuminated the sky in the East above the rim, but complete darkness dominated the crater. “I came in on the other side, so I’ll slowly work my way over there. It should be light enough to climb by the time I reach the northern end.”
40 minutes later, as Dirk reached the opposite wall the light was in fact sufficient to start his climb. Dirk had forced himself to focus on his foot placement, and now with the climb ahead of him he still didn’t have the spare bandwidth to really think about what he’d seen. He concentrated on recalling the path he’d taken down, confident that it would get him back up, down the other side and on his way home.
(40) Day 24 0930 Dirk returns home with news and is disappointed
Exhausted, Dirk walked in the door to his house and saw his dad asleep in his favorite chair.
“Oh, yeah,” Dirk said to himself. “Dad was probably more than a little concerned.” Dirk considered waking him up, but decided he could probably use the rest. He put his boots in front of the door, so there was no way his dad wouldn’t notice he had returned, and started to get ready to take a shower and go to sleep himself. “I’m exhausted, but so wound up I doubt I’ll fall asleep easily,” he thought.
“Welcome home, son,” his dad said.
Dirk turned. “Dad! I’m sorry I was gone all night – the sandstorm stranded me.”
“I figured as much,” his dad said. “I was a little nervous, because I don’t recall you getting any Sandstorm Survival on Mars merit badges.”
“The principles are universal – be prepared. I actually hunkered down in a cave in the Tharis Minutus crater in my shelter, and it wasn’t too bad,” Dirk said.
“And you won’t believe what I saw,” he continued. “But first, I’m – almost – dying of thirst.”
He went into the kitchen and filled his water bottle.
“Sip it for a minute,” his dad said. “Otherwise you might puke it up again, depending upon how dehydrated you are.”
Dirk returned to the kitchen and spit the first few mouthfuls of water back out – his mouth felt sandy. Returning to the living room, Dirk sipped half the bottle, (struggling to prevent himself from guzzling it as he would have after a tough competition), put it down on the table and unpacked the Book from his backpack.
“Check this out Dad,” he said. “The last few pictures.”
His dad opened the photo app and flipped to the most recent photo. He looked carefully at it for a minute, checking every few seconds to see that Dirk was rehydrating at an appropriate pace.
As he drank Dirk stared intently at his dad, watching for a change in his expression from one of inquisition to amazed surprise – it didn’t happen.
“How are you feeling, son? Is the water hitting your bloodstream yet?”
“Yes, I can feel my cells rehydrating now,” Dirk said. “But…” He motioned at the Book with his water bottle and raised his eyebrows.
“Your finger must have slipped when you were taking the photo – you only imaged rocks and sand,” his dad said, handing him the Book.
“What! Hold on a second. Let me show you.”
Dirk took flipped through the last few photos. “No, this is exactly what I wanted to show you.” However, as he looked at them he could understand his dad’s lack of reaction. Because he knew what to look for, he discerned the trails and the little dots on either side, but he saw why they hadn’t attracted his dad’s attention.
Dirk didn’t know what to do. He had been so excited, and then tired, then excited, then exhausted and dehydrated and glad to be home.
“In the stress of the storm and its aftermath had I seen something that wasn’t there, like reading faces in light sockets or in the early photos of the ‘Great Face of Mars’?” he wondered.
He didn’t want to sound like an idiot in front of his dad, but on the other hand was, or had been until recently, positive that he had found evidence of life on Mars.
“Oh.” He said. “It looked cooler when I was there, but you’re right, this really isn’t anything special.”
His dad gave him a quick hug with one arm. “Even without any great pictures, I’m glad to have you back safe and sound. Do you have any arrivals scheduled today?”
“No, so unless there is an emergency I don’t have to go to the Crane Farm.”
“Good. Hit the showers, get some rest, and I’ll be back over around lunchtime to make us some chow. I’m awake now, so I’ll get some work done but I’ll probably knock off after lunch and sleep – neither one of us rested sufficiently last night.”
“Yeah, but you were much more comfortable than I was,” Dirk said.
“True,” his dad responded, “But I paid for my comfort with worry while you were compensated for your discomfort by adventure.”
Dirk finished the water bottle, and tolerated another hug from his dad as he left. “I’ll think about the pictures and if it is even worth the effort to show them to Mandy later,” he said to himself as he headed for the shower. “I’m too brain dead from fatigue to figure it out now.”
(41) Day 24 1130 Government Visit and Donation
Dirk, awakened by banging on his front door heard, “Open up, it’s the Sergeant,” over the intercom.
Groggily, still in his underwear, Dirk walked to the door and opened it.
“Put some clothes on,” the Sergeant said brusquely. “You have to come down to the station for a health assessment.”
Still half asleep, Dirk’s first thought was to call his dad. This didn’t make any sense.
“Why?” he said.
“You were lost overnight, which should have been reported, and we must check for infection,” he said.
“All right, just a minute,” Dirk said, and shut the door. He called his dad as he got dressed – no answer.
As the Sergeant stood outside the door he thought back to the hurried conference with the Director that morning. The Sergeant had seen Dirk’s dad walking to his office early, and when talking to one of his friends from the bar had learned that Mr. K had been in so early because he’d been waiting for Dirk to return from a hike. Dirk had not made it back until that morning. The news, when he shared it conversationally with the Director after their morning synchronization meeting (which given the lack of activity for either of them had become merely a shared cup of coffee – well, the Sergeant delivering the Director’s first workplace cup of coffee), stimulated ideas in both of their minds.
The Sergeant had immediately said, “I wonder if he wore the weight gear? Probably not, and if not, we can get him for violating the conditions of his ‘sentence’.”
The Director waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, but that is small potatoes – better we use it as an excuse to acquire additional blood. My contacts back home inform me that there already exists a market for ‘pure’ blood products. Ultra-rich aficionados of the international dance scene, primarily in Lagos, Singapore, and Sao Paulo, but spreading to hubs like Ibiza and Toronto, are undergoing cleanses prior to
drugging up for multi-day happenings. The cleanse supposedly re-sensitizes the sensory ‘palate’ like ginger between bites of sushi. It therefore makes the experience generated by the various drugs subsequently ingested purer.”
‘But why do they need that?” the Sergeant asked.
“Recreational drugs are designed to generate specific sensory experiences. Last year’s fashionable drugs used individual experiences stored in the mind as raw material. However, since very few, even among the ultra-rich, have experiences as vibrant as those simulated by the writers of virtual reality immersions, the demand for those types of drugs didn’t last. However, this season, people desire new tactile experiences, which virtual reality still does not supply at the most refined levels. Therefore, a small, but extremely lucrative market for these tactile sensation drugs has emerged. What’s interesting to my partners is the fact that purification, cleaning out all the other drugs in the system prior to using the tactile enhancing substances, has become an integral part of the experience.”
“That doesn’t sound like a very big group of people,” the Sergeant said, unimpressed by the news.
The Director snorted. “We don’t need large numbers of customers – a few customers that pay a large amount of money to us will meet our ‘business’ needs. Our blood products constitute the perfect ‘purification’ treatment.”
She sipped her coffee and stared at her desk for a few minutes. The Sergeant gulped the last of his, watching the news from yesterday as it was displayed on the wall in front of the room. He’d never admit it, but he was coming to appreciate being on Mars more and more, and watching the news added to his sense of satisfaction. “There are so many hassles back on Earth,” he thought. “If this blood business works out, I’ll dramatically elevate my standard of living and attain levels of satisfaction here previously beyond my dreams.”
The Director interrupted his thoughts as the pictures of the latest terrestrial riots impacted his retinas – “And we can check and make sure he wore his weight – if not we’ll institute additional punishment.”
The Sergeant blinked at her and turned to leave.
And now he stood outside Dirk’s door.
Dirk returned in five minutes. “Weights on?” Sergeant asked.
“Yes,” Dirk said, pointing to his suspenders.
“Good,” the Sergeant said, disappointed.
They walked quickly to the City Hall – Dirk was surprised that his dad didn’t meet them there. Maybe he had gone to sleep and so missed his call. Dirk called him again, and sent a text – no response.
The Sergeant took him directly into his office. “Give me your arm. Unzip the suit so I can get a vein.”
“Why?” asked Dirk. “I already had my annual physical.”
“You may have been infected by some local agent while sleeping overnight in the wild. We cannot risk you infecting the rest of the City.”
Dirk immediately responded with “But Mars is dead! There is nothing living here but us and the organisms we’ve imported or developed to enhance the biosphere.” Of course, he was not so sure that was true, but the Sergeants office was neither the time nor place to say it.
After checking his communicator (no response from dad) he pulled the suit down enough to expose his right arm median antecubital veins.
The Sergeant awkwardly put the tourniquet around Dirk’s upper arm, swabbed the vein area at the elbow, inserted the blood collection set vacuum tube and began to fill sample vials.
When the Sergeant started on the second vial, Dirk asked “Why are you taking so much? A drop is enough for an infection sample.” (He’d learned that in health class. On Earth even a hair would do.)
“We have to send samples to different labs, and to account for spoilage during transport back to Earth,” the Sergeant said, starting on the third vial, pleased with his quick thinking.
That didn’t make any sense to Dirk, and he called his dad again – no response. Six vials lay on the desk next to the Sergeant, and Dirk was starting to feel woozy.
Removing the blood collection set the Sergeant said, “And another thing - no more recreational exploration – you do your job – only your job. Go home now.”
Dirk wasn’t sure he could. However, not wanting to stay longer, he pulled up his suit and walked slowly out, his hand against the wall as he staggered down the passageway.
“Radius,” he thought to himself. “I’ll call Radius.” He stopped around a corner from City Hall, out of view of the cameras at the main entrance doors, and called Radius.
Radius answered immediately. “Hello.”
“Hey Radius, I’m at City Hall. Can you come give me a hand?” Dirk said.
“On my way,” said Radius. “I’ll be there in three minutes.”
Dirk put his communicator back into his pocket, and half leaning against the exterior wall, continued around to the side of the building, out of sight of anyone leaving or entering City Hall. He sank to the ground, his back against the wall and waited for Radius.