The Moon and the Desert, page 19
“That was not my intent, Juan. I hope they understand that. It’s just that I think whatever’s wrong with the data could mean serious consequences—at the very least, extended rehabilitation when they get back to Earth.”
“Right, and at least one of our advisors suggested maybe they don’t come back to Earth and just stay on Moonbase.”
“I can’t believe they’re serious. Some of these people have family. We have no right to keep them separated for the rest of their lives.”
“No, no, that’s not it at all. The conversation was simply that there’s no need to bring them down to Earth—yet. We could keep them on Moonbase or send them up to O’Neill or Clarke. Given Percheron’s ring plus the multiple gravity decks, at O’Neill we can put them at one-third gravity, then move them up to one-half, then three-quarters and finally, full gravity to allow them to gradually reacclimate before we bring them back down to Earth.”
“That could take years, Juan. Are they seriously talking about years?”
“Yes . . . possibly. Look, I know it’s not ideal, but we’ll figure it out. Just . . . keep sending me copies of your analyses. I’m on your side and there’s a few more here that think the same way. If you can figure out this headache thing that might help to raise your status.”
“Raise my status. That’s a laugh. I had status once. Look at me now.”
“Quit your bitching, Glenn. You know that the half-life of bureaucratic memory is the election cycle; it’s only been one cycle since you got injured.”
“That’s not much consolation. No one seems to remember anything anymore.”
“Not just there. Here, too. Run this data through your model. For that matter, run the Marsbase data through your model as well. I’m hoping you find something that the rest of us are missing. Work the problem, Glenn.”
“Got it. Juan, I’m on this. Shepard out.”
Percheron had eight crew who operated the ship throughout the entire round-trip from Earth to Mars and back. Lieutenant Colonel Gee LeBlanc, Percheron’s captain; Second Lieutenant Mila Katou, navigator and third officer; Master Sergeant Marta Bialik, medic; and Technical Sergeant Hana Takeda, hydrology technician—all of the females—showed the first symptoms of headache and nausea. Technical Sergeant Jonas Christensen, drive-systems technician, was the first male to report neurological symptoms, progressing to nausea and vertigo. Major Maxim Dvorak, the first officer and pilot, was next, but never seemed to progress much past a headache, while Technical Sergeant Eric Philips, engineering, reported headaches and insomnia, and Captain Angus Scott, the chief engineer, hadn’t reported anything other than mild headache. On the other hand, a note from the captain said that Scott had been quite irritable and argumentative.
All of Percheron’s permanent crew were affected to various degrees, with the females much more severe than the men. Glenn looked closer into the oxygen and carbon-dioxide levels on Percheron. Unlike early space vessels and orbital stations, the craft was pressurized to an atmosphere close to Earth normal, although it was similar to airliners, with internal air pressure equivalent to a seven-thousand-foot elevation on Earth. It was only about twenty percent less than sea level pressure and oxygen. That meant it wouldn’t be necessary to fine-tune it to anything different from normal atmospheric composition. Still, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be tweaked a little. Both the scrubbers and hydroponic air system were handling the balance. The only adjustment Glenn really had to recommend was a slight increase in partial pressure of oxygen. NASA and Space Force recommended the same thing, and a few weeks of the new mix seemed to have alleviated most of the headaches.
With that problem solved, NASA and MarsX turned their attention to the next phase. It was approaching the three-month mark; Marsbase had been turned over to its new residents, and Percheron’s passengers were on their way up to board the transport for the return trip. After more than three years away from Earth, they were ready to come home.
Percheron no sooner started the engines to break Mars orbit when new medical problems started to crop up. This time it was the Mars personnel showing signs of headache, insomnia, and irritability. That argued for an infectious agent, and all of the medical advice sent from Earth assumed bacterial or viral contamination and/or infection.
MMC thought that it was norovirus, a stomach infection responsible for most of the symptoms of “stomach flu” or a “stomach bug.” Strangely, the females once again showed symptoms first. Rachel Amit, habitat engineer, Maia D’Cruz, geologist, and Melissa Green, dietician and botanist, were affected. Within a week, severe headaches were reported by the men: Gavin Taketani, mission commander, Steven Green, construction engineer and brother to Melissa Green, Victor Grigorescu, hydrologist, and Surya Mishra, who managed Marsbase’s remotely operated vehicles.
Surprisingly, Yvette Barbier seemed to be the only one who wasn’t affected. Since Percheron only had a medic, and not a doctor, she took over as senior medical officer and started treating the illness, assuming as before that it was some form of mild viral infection. Most of the crew responded to treatments, but there were lingering issues.
Neither MMC nor Yvette were saying anything yet, but Glenn began to doubt that they were dealing with a virus.
He continued to monitor crew health, and sent a message to Juan—If not viral . . . could it be food poisoning? NASA and Yvette seemed to have come to the same conclusion, since the next report stated that affected crew were started on medications to treat both possibilities, i.e., viral and bacterial contamination of the foods.
Again, the treatments worked for a short time, then new symptoms emerged. Many crew—particular those directly involved in the operation of Percheron (and thus those who had been on the ship the longest) reported much more severe headaches, and started to show signs of anxiety, agitation, nervousness. None of the symptoms were totally consistent with a foodborne illness. On the other hand, there was still a possibility of fungal growth or “ergot alkaloids” in spoiled food. The problem with both diagnosis and treatment was the increasing neurological symptoms which affected crew performance.
One of things that baffled the medical team was how the Percheron crew seemed to be suffering worse than the civilians who’d been picked up from Marsbase. As Glenn examined the data, his first thought was that there was a contaminant in the ship’s environmental systems. The Percheron crew could have been exposed to it for the six-month outward voyage and the three months in orbit at Mars. The Marsbase One crew would have only started their exposure in the last few weeks. A major limitation in his analysis was that the Marsbase Two team were not reporting anything unusual. He tried to contact several former colleagues at NASA and Space Force to request additional laboratory tests.
So far, none of his requests had been answered.
Glenn was in his small office outside the Moonbase sickbay when his wristcomm pinged at the same time the incoming message indicator lit up on the display of his desk computer. The header of the message confused him. Was this supposed to be for him? It wasn’t addressed to him, but rather to the Moonbase medical officer. Does she know I’m here?
To: Moonbase CMO
From: Marsbase One CMO
Subject: Crew illness.
I’m attaching new blood and serum tests from Percheron and Marsbase crew. The suspected stomach virus is not responding to conventional antivirals or antibacterials, nor to isolation of affected individuals. Symptoms now include anxiety, irritability, depression, and at least one instance of hallucination. It appears first—and worst—in females, but then males show similar symptoms, just not as severe. I am now examining the possibility that the issue could be chemical or hormonal in nature, but I’m just not seeing it in patient vitals. I’ve drawn blood and analyzed it for blood gases, electrolytes, trace elements, lipid profile. The reports are attached.
I am not ruling out human-transmissible factors, and have directed crew to self-isolate as much as possible.
Please advise if you see anything I’ve missed.
Y. Barbier
After reading the message, Glenn looked at the header again—it was directed to the chief medical officer of Moonbase, but also contained a specific routing to him. The timestamps on basic text and this version didn’t match, though, so he wondered if this was a copy or forwarded to him as an afterthought. On the other hand, she probably didn’t even know he was here, despite his assignment being part of MarsX MMC’s official roster. It might be another example of being out of the decision loop, or avoiding a reaction to putting his name on the broader distribution.
She wasn’t specifically asking for his help, but someone was.
Reading between the lines suggested that she was out of her depth. On the other hand, this could be precisely the opening he needed. He opened the attachments and started looking at the data. It was all the data he would’ve asked the SF medic to collect on his behalf. That Yvette had done so and sent it to Moonbase and Earth, meant that she was at least thinking along some of the same lines. He needed to look at this very carefully to figure out what other tests or information they needed.
There simply was nothing in the blood tests—or any of the vitals—to explain the crew reactions. There were other tests and Glenn turned his attention to those results. Iron levels looked fine, electrolytes, the same. Some of the neurotransmitters were high, especially norepinephrine—often mistakenly called “adrenaline.” Dopamine levels were slightly reduced. That could explain the headaches, insomnia, and general irritability. On the other hand, headaches, and insomnia increased feelings of stress and that could elevate norepinephrine. So . . . cause? . . . or effect?
The neurotransmitter changes suggested a more systemic action. Glenn had a nagging suspicion he should recognize this, but it was just too indicative of an environmental contaminant. It had to be something in either the food, the water, or the air. Symptoms like these had been at the root of “sick building syndrome” back when office buildings and residences began to use totally sealed heating and air-conditioning systems. Recirculating the same air concentrated contaminants, and something as simple as a puddle of water in the bottom of an air shaft could make the entire population of a building sick. Allergies and chemical sensitivities were among the milder effects, as strange as that seemed, with Legionnaires’ Disease being one of the more severe examples.
The problem was that food and water supplies should have remained sealed since Percheron left Earth orbit. The food came from Earth, while the water was produced in orbit from asteroid ice using vacuum distillation. The bottled air had been produced by electrolysis from that same ice, then conditioned in the massive greenhouse and garden that served Moonbase. It was the purest air they could produce, without any of the potential pollutants or airborne contaminants of Earth’s atmosphere.
Given that Percheron’s own hydroponics suite seemed to be functioning normally, it had to be food or water, but he couldn’t figure out how. On the other hand, on Earth they would simply re-sterilize everything. Heat, pressure, and steam were often used to kill bacteria, degrade viral nucleic acids, and kill any remaining spores. There were also chemicals that would do the same—ethylene oxide, hydrogen peroxide vapor, nitrogen oxide or supercritical carbon dioxide. Chemical means were not an option, though. The sealed air system was too delicate to use any means that would upset the delicate balance of oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide and water vapor.
It also meant that high pressure steam similar to a hospital autoclave was also not ideal. On the other hand, the Earth-bound food industry increasingly used hard radiation for sterilization of food. It didn’t leave any residue and didn’t change the taste of the food.
There was plenty of radiation in space.
To: MarsX Mission Medical Command
From: medical consultant
Re: Potential food contamination
Has anyone considered vacuum and irradiation to sterilize the food? They can’t use vacuum on the water supply, but should be able to put it into radiation transparent vessels. It can all be put into a cargo hold, open the hatch to expose it to vacuum, and rotate the ship to expose the hold to full sunlight.
I’m not saying this is the only answer—and maybe not even the best answer—but it would certainly provide a way to eliminate food contamination.
The fact that this is showing up in the Percheron crew and in the women first certainly suggests that it’s something with a long exposure period. On that basis alone, I don’t see this being a contaminant brought back from Mars, but rather, inherent to the Percheron supplies.
—Shepard
CHAPTER 22:
Radical Solutions
Gavin T @TaketaniDoc
Farewell Mars!
Richmond Times Features @JenButler
Whoo, six months isolation on top of a volcano is no joke, but sometimes a sense of humor is necessary. Tonight’s live-stream looks at crew psychology—and outtakes from our less serious moments. Inside Astronaut Training—Streaming live at 1900 EST on @RTFchannel11016.
ChirpChat, August 2043
Either Glenn wasn’t the only one to think about sterilizing the food supply, or someone at MMC was finally listening. A couple days after he sent his recommendation, Jeff Ling, the Moonbase chief medical officer, came to see him. The man was ten years younger than Glenn, and had been a resident on temporary duty to Moonbase when Glenn had been CMO. While he didn’t always share the concerns over lapses in Marsbase crew health maintenance, he had sought out Glenn’s analysis of the Marsbase One and Percheron crew issues.
“Shep, the head of human spaceflight at Johnson thinks it’s food contamination and that they should sterilize the stores. He’s been talking to the Tucson Boys and Girls Club and says they are thinking along the same lines. That’s as close as you’re going to get to an acknowledgement that you’re right.”
“Good. So, who tells her, and when?”
“It needs to come from Space Force, since Doc Barbier is acting Percheron medical officer, which puts her under my authority as CMO Third Space Wing. I’ll send the comm this afternoon, but put everybody’s name on it. However, I wanted to talk with you, first. I want to put your name at the head of the list and to hell with what anyone else thinks. You have more experience than the rest of us and I wanted to see if you’ve thought of anything else to add. After all, I haven’t forgotten everything I learned from you—the most important fact being that nothing is ever final.”
Glenn put his fingertips together and affected an old man’s voice. “Good, good, my young padawan. You have learned well.” They both laughed, then the medical officer left to send his communication.
Finally, someone was listening.
The technique was as easy as Glenn had said; put the food and water into the cargo hold and open the door to expose it to hard vacuum and solar radiation. The not-so-easy part was that food would have to be removed from the sealed vacuum and radiation-proof packaging for the treatment, then crew would have to repackage the food to store it for a few more months. It would have to be done by vac-suited crewmembers, since repressurizing the hold before sealing the food would defeat the purpose of the sterilization process. Sterilizing the water was more difficult. Exposure to vacuum would boil the water, leaving only a cloud of ice crystals floating in vacuum. The low boiling point wouldn’t do anything to kill bacteria or viruses, so the water would be pumped into radiation transparent containers, large water bladders similar to giant water balloons. Those would be placed in the cargo hold, then exposed to the ionizing radiation by direct exposure to sunlight.
That was the plan. It just didn’t work out that way. Glenn watched and listened with a sense of growing horror to the recordings transmitted back to Earth from Percheron.
“Captain! Captain, what you doing?”
Approximately two months’ worth of food and water had been placed into the cargo hold in preparation for the vacuum and radiation sterilization.
“Captain, please! Please don’t do this.”
The transmission originated on the bridge of Percheron. Captain LeBlanc had been complaining of strange dreams and had been showing signs of anxiety and nervousness. Percheron’s medic had asked Dr. Barbier to prescribe some antianxiety medications in hopes of calming the captain down, but she’d begun acting erratically and saying things that did not make sense.
“They want it. They want it all, but they can’t have it. I’m not going to let them have it.”
“Captain who are you talking about? There’s nobody else here.”
“They want it, they do. They told me in my sleep. They came and told me they wanted our food, our people, everything. I can’t let them have it.”
“Captain, please stay away from those controls. Security! Security to the bridge!”
Security on Percheron was two Space Force soldiers who doubled up in other jobs—Master Sergeant Bialik, the medic, and Technical Sergeant Philips, the assistant to the ship’s engineer. The bridge hatch opened to reveal the two soldiers who immediately moved to separate First Officer Dvorak and Captain LeBlanc. The latter had one arm out and was reaching for a small blinking button on the ship status panel. That button should have been covered by a safety latch, but a jagged piece of plastic, with a few drops of blood hovering in the free-fall environment of the bridge stood testament to the ongoing struggle between the two officers.
LeBlanc was raving. Her words did not make sense—something about aliens wanting their food and water, and planning to kidnap the crew. While Master Sergeant Bialik stood back with Major Dvorak, Tech Sergeant Philips kept the captain away from the console . . . until she kneed him in the groin, causing him to double over and release his grip. Dvorak and Bialik were too far away as LeBlanc reached out and pressed the flashing button.
