The Moon and the Desert, page 36
All in all, he’d prefer the step-up approach available at Clarke.
As he progressed to the full-gee experience, he noticed that the fine motor control on his bionic arm started to deteriorate. He commed Ian to discuss the problem.
“It’s just gee-force compensation. Time for a tune-up, Shep. I’ll be up there before you’re due to return to Earth. I just need to adjust the force-feedback loops.”
“You’re going to do it before I go to Aunt Sally’s, right? I can’t be breaking her plates and glasses.”
“No worries. I’ll send some update codes that will help out now, and be up there by the end of the week.
“Thanks, Ian. I appreciate it.”
By the time Glenn finally got down to Earth, most of his injuries had healed, so he had few worries of Aunt Sally scolding him for getting himself hurt. She would still fuss, but that was expected of the woman who had stood in for his mother for so many years.
His eardrum had mostly healed by the time Percheron arrived at Heinlein Station. The docs had pronounced minimal airway scarring from vacuum, and there was no lasting mucous membrane damage. He had chest twinges a few times during extremely intense exercise, but it was minor, and he kept that one to himself.
“Glennie!”
Sally came out of the house when she saw the black USSF vehicle pull into the driveway. She’d barely waited for him to get out of the car before enveloping him in a hug.
“Momma.”
“Welcome home, Glennie. I’m glad you’re okay. I was so worried when I heard you’d gone flying off on your own.”
“Not my own, Momma, I had good people helping me.”
“Come inside. I have fresh baked cookies.”
Aunt Sally made him sit down at the table while she fussed over making a pot of coffee. She and Uncle Hoop would grind fresh beans and make a pot every morning, but that was simply too much for her to drink on her own. Company was always an occasion for coffee in the Pritchard and Shepard households, though, so she was eager to share a pot with Glenn or any visitors who might come calling.
There were, indeed, fresh-baked cookies. Oatmeal raisin, his favorite. Two cookies and a mug of coffee later, Sally gave him a pointed look.
“Jennifer. What’s the story? Have you made up with the dear girl?”
“Yes, Momma. I apologized and she apologized, and we forgave each other. She’ll come this weekend.”
“Good. She came by when you were gone, you know. It was the day before they announced you were out on Percheron dealing with the medical problems, and she came by personally to tell me.”
“She told me. She was worried about you getting word from the media.”
“I had your initial comm message, though. The one you sent when you launched the whatchamacallit—the Bat.”
“I know you did, but Jen told me the general insisted on the personal touch—although, she would have done it anyway.”
“He came by, too. Your general.”
“He did?” Glenn was shocked.
“Of course, it’s not the first time I’d met him. Rick came to see me after your accident. He talked me through your rehabilitation plan. He also came to talk to me and Hoop before the two of us came to see you. We’d crossed paths in the hospital. He’s been looking out for you, you know.”
“So I’ve learned. Huh. That’s a lot more personal than I expected.”
“Rick likes my peanut butter cookies—you know, the ones with the crisscross pattern on top. I made a pot of that Hawaiian coffee you sent me. He’s a very pleasant man.”
“Rick. Wow, you’re on a first-name basis with the general. I never would have imagined it. That’s just not an image I associate with him.”
“He cares about you. You remind him of himself. He told me way back when, that you’d use your abilities to help people. That’s why he supported the bionics and everything. He said that again when you went to Percheron. It’s what he would have done in your place.”
His month’s leave was nearly over. Jen had come from D.C. each weekend, and Nik had come calling as well. They were sitting with the inevitable cups of coffee and plate of cookies in the den watching a video feed from the Hague while Sally puttered about in the kitchen.
The video was coverage of a meeting of the MOSEC—the Mars and Outer System Exploration Consortium, the allied space agencies portion of MarsX. Several of the participating agencies argued that the U.S. and Space Force should bear the brunt of the blame for the “Percheron Incident.”
General Philip Bolger-Cortez, Chief of Space Operations and senior officer of USSF, argued that the construction phase of civilian space operations fell under NASA jurisdiction. Moreover, Percheron had been built by contractors. He further argued that Percheron had been built by MOSEC contractors, to give the multinationals a larger role in the consortium.
Doctor Aaron Haskins, CEO and president of MarsX, cited the safety record of the Mars missions to date. The Percheron Incident had nothing to do with MarsX, Tucson Mission Control, or Mission Medical. Indeed, MarsX personnel could not have foreseen the leak and were therefore not culpable. Furthermore, the valve from water tank to the fungicide reservoir was added as an afterthought based on a NASA design modification.
Next to testify was Eugene Kraft, second in command at NASA. He’d come up through the ranks as a flight director, much like the two men he’d been named for. He denied that the NASA design was at fault. Failure was not an option. Their own history had taught them to check everything.
Glenn, Jen, and Nik watched this prologue to the inquiry and wondered when the representatives would actually ask the people who were there and affected by the copper leak. They didn’t have long to wait, although Dvorak was the only crew member to appear in front of the committee, as the only officer available. When the Ecuadoran delegate complained about that fact, Dvorak pointed out that Katou was sick, and LeBlanc and Scott were dead—would Madam Delegate prefer to call in a psychic to continue the questioning?
She ignored the barb, and tried to lay the blame on LeBlanc. The French delegate jumped up and accused the Ecuadoran of “victim-shaming.” On the contrary, the Ecuadoran delegate argued, if LeBlanc hadn’t wasted most of the contents of IWS Reservoir Four, there would have been more than enough water left, and the crew wouldn’t have had to drink from the contaminated tank.
“That’s not how it works, that’s not how any of it works,” Glenn said.
“I know, Shep.” Jen told him. “I know how the political and media minds work. These folks are there to be seen and heard—to look good for their constituents.”
“Yeah, but they’ve got the logic wrong. The copper caused LeBlanc’s hallucinations. Copper-dependent enzymes turn dopamine into norepinephrine. It works just like methamphetamine overdose. She wouldn’t have blown the hatch if she weren’t already affected. They were already drinking contaminated water when they lost the contents of Tank Four—besides, standard procedure would have been to finish Tank Three first anyway, so all the water in Tank Four still wouldn’t have done any good.”
Much to Glenn’s surprise, Dvorak responded with exactly that point.
“But why don’t you go in the tank and inspect it periodically?” asked the Russian delegate.
“Ladies and gentlemen. We don’t go inside a water tank in free-fall because we’d drown before we got out,” Dvorak told her.
“But you have spacesuits!” protested the Russian delegate.
“Have you ever tried to swim in a spacesuit, ma’am? No? I thought not. I’d be perfectly happy to give you the experience if you’d come down to Houston.”
The gallery broke into laughter, and the chairman gaveled the session to a close for the day.
The next day, even though no possible blame could be placed on the Mars Three/Marsbase One crew, the tribunal called Gavin Taketani. For this testimony, they had to link in O’Neill Station and endure a three-second round-trip communications lag. Taketani was scheduled for another month of high-gee rehabilitation for heart function before the docs would approve his return to Earth. The questioning was actually quite awkward, with long pauses in the testimony. Glenn told the other two that the pauses were not lightspeed delay, but rather Taketani was very carefully trying to decide who had asked which question—the video link only showed official MOSEC delegates. Non-signatories weren’t supposed to ask questions, although that certainly hadn’t stopped the Ecuadoran or Russian so far. They were present because they’d contributed contractors, but were supposed to just be observers, not badgering witnesses.
Taketani described events, procedures, and consequences to the best of his knowledge. Officially, he was a passive onlooker for much of the voyage. Unofficially, he kept to himself, and didn’t pay much attention to MarsX or Percheron personnel once they’d left Mars. He suggested that the board should really talk to his chief medical officer Yvette Barbier. The board agreed, and summoned her, but received a stern warning citing international standards of health information privacy. Barbier was unavailable due to her own ongoing medical care.
“They won’t get her,” Nik said.
“She’s that bad?” Jen asked.
“No, but she’s in therapy and needs to be left alone. The last thing she needs is these clowns making her relive it.”
Glenn grunted agreement.
The hearing broke down into turmoil. No one—not the agencies, the governments, nor the corporations—wanted to accept responsibility.
In the words of America’s second man in space, Gus Grissom—“it just blew.”
CHAPTER 43:
In the Spotlight
USSF Office of Scientific Integration
@OSIGenBoatright
Congratulations to Doctor Glenn Shepard on your awards. They are well deserved.
O’Dour @TheOakTree
@OSIGenBoatright, I, for one, would like to shake his hand. I can’t wait to meet him.
ChirpChat, July 2044
Glenn didn’t return to Washington D.C. until after the blistering-hot four-day Fourth of July weekend. He had one week to prepare for the start of Yvette’s court martial; but before that, was due for several meetings with government leaders.
The first would take place at the Pentagon. Glenn had to report to General Boatright for a briefing. He was surprised to see that the E-ring OSI office was full and bustling with activity just one day past a major holiday weekend. It was even more mind-boggling when he saw an organization chart which showed that OSI now comprised a sizeable percentage of the total Space Force!
The meeting with Boatright was brief. He advised that the OSI position with respect to Yvette’s actions was that she was competent, but impaired. He wanted no cover-up—only fairness—but they needed the truth. Glenn would likely be called as a witness for the prosecution, and he was to speak as he wished. Nik was listed as a defense witness, but was also likely to be called by the prosecution. Many of their mutual colleagues would be involved, because OSI and Space Force needed to be seen to take the situation seriously—much more seriously than the “Percheron Incident” tribunal.
Which made Glenn’s command performance with several ranking senators and congressmen all that more important. These weren’t to be formal hearings, but informal, relaxed conversations to allow the lawmakers a chance to hear the details from someone who was there. He’d been assigned a team within the OSI public affairs office to assist with those meetings—mostly just scheduling, but a representative would accompany him to each of the meetings. Glenn argued that legal counsel would be better—someone who could tell his “inquisitors” that he was invoking his right to silence.
The general just smiled. A light flashed on the general’s comm board indicating a visitor. He acknowledged the alert and instructed his aide to allow the person to enter.
Boatright rose, and stepped out from behind his desk to greet the visitor. Glenn did likewise, wondering who was so important that the general would interrupt their meeting.
It was Jen, looking beautiful in her uniform.
“Welcome, Major. I was just telling Colonel Shepard that he would have a PAO assistant for his meetings. Colonel Shepard? Meet your new aide.”
“Uh, sir. Um. I’m not sure how to say this.”
“What, you object to Major Butler? I thought you got along quite well. Quite closely, if I recall.” There was a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“Ah, yes, sir. We do. Which is the problem. Um, conduct unbecoming?”
“Nonsense. I’ve never seen any hint of inappropriate behavior. You are going to do right by her, are you not?”
“Yes, sir! I mean no, sir! I mean . . .”
“Relax, Shep. Jen’s orders state that she’s been assigned to you specifically because she’s your biographer and knows you better than anyone else. The ‘intimately’ part is implied, and allowed under the circumstances. You are unique, Jen is unique. No other two servicemembers could do this job, so we make allowances.”
“Ah, thank you, sir.”
“Jen isn’t your handler, so much as advisor. I’ve assigned Lieutenant Colonel Richardson as your legal counsel, and he’s briefed her on what to expect, but we really don’t need to worry about that. Speak your mind, tell the truth. If there’s any blowback, Jen’s there to see and hear it. We can deal with it later if we have to—but right now, the important part is that we are transparent, we are cooperating, and we are truthful. That’s the reputation this office needs to have going forward.”
Wow. This was certainly a refreshing change.
The first meeting turned out to be nothing to worry over. They were in Senator Greason’s office, along with two other senators from the Extraterrestrial Operations Committee. The former space executive set the tone, which was relaxed and collegial. Glenn was mostly asked about his experience on Bat, what steps led him to suspect copper toxicity, and how the patients were doing at present. The conversation then turned to questions of which particular roles could be best fulfilled by astronauts with bionic enhancement.
They talked for almost two hours, and while Glenn agreed afterward that it had been a relatively low-stress event, his own anxiety kept him from being overly comfortable. He was also extremely glad Jen was there. Several times, he reached over to hold her hand, then realized they were both in uniform, and pulled his hand back. Greason noticed, winked, and smiled. The others appeared not to notice.
The second meeting was less comfortable, but still not adversarial. The House meeting was held in one of the congressional hearing rooms, with Glenn and Jen seated at a table in front of a curved bench, behind which sat five representatives from the health and space committees. The questions ranged from details about the medical facilities aboard Percheron, to how it felt to ride the first Helicity2 drive. A surprising twist was a question about which state and district had produced the supplies carried on Bat.
Glenn couldn’t answer, but Jen seemed to have that information readily available on her tablet. Glenn was impressed, and so were the congresspersons. Since they were seated behind a table, Glenn could take her hand—and did.
The most problematic meeting was the one that should have been no problem at all. They were invited to a reception at the New Zealand embassy. New Zealand was a member of MOSEC and Mila Katou had family there. While the country couldn’t claim the Space Force officer directly, they were proud of her nonetheless. Mila would be at the reception, briefly, and the event had been set up with the ostensible reason of thanking Glenn for her rescue and life-saving surgery. He was instructed to wear civilian clothes so that he could legally wear the awards presented to him by the French and Japanese governments the previous day. It meant being fitted for a tuxedo just that morning—his previous one was more than five years old, and wasn’t sized for his bionic limbs. Jen wore an absolutely stunning emerald green dress, and his breath caught every time he looked at her.
About halfway through the evening, Katou bid her goodbyes. She was still somewhat weak, but her new bioprinted liver was functioning just fine. She just needed to rest. An aide brought a wheelchair, but she waved him off, requesting that Glenn and Jen walk her to her car. She leaned heavily on Glenn’s arm, particularly when out of sight of the crowd. When they reached the front door, she looked up a Glenn; he was a good ten inches taller, and she motioned for him to lean down. Mila wrapped her arms around his neck, held him for a moment, then gave him a peck on his cheek.
“Thank you,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you.” She said her goodbyes to Jen, the two hugged, then she got into her car to return home.
Glenn stood looking up at the sky for a moment, holding Jen by his side. There were a surprising number of stars visible, but then, D.C. had been working to reduce incident artificial light for the past twenty years. A U.S. vice president had once remarked that it was a shame that the Naval Observatory—which was just across the street from the embassy—couldn’t be used to view the night sky because of the city’s light pollution.
The two stood, arm in arm, for several minutes looking at those stars while Glenn processed his feelings about what Mila had said.
Two men came out the front door of the embassy, arguing. Glenn and Jen were off to one side, and the men showed no sign of being aware of their presence.
“Senator, we absolutely must increase our presence in space. All question of resources aside, we can’t have our eggs in only one basket. Diseases travel too far, too fast, and the effects of natural disasters are felt around the world for years after the fact. We need to spread out, colonize planets, moons, asteroids—even go to other stars.”
“Hell, no. We need to stay right where we are and work on solving the problems we have.”
“We can do that. Every major advance in space brings us a corresponding advance in science and engineering. The aeroponics facility on O’Neill showed us how to better grow crops in Africa. The hydroponics fields on the Moon are used to purify air and water for God’s sake!”
