The Marius remains in orbit around Europa. With an mission still a mystery to the crew and no idea when they’ll be rescued, the crew hunkers down for a long stay.
The Space Cruiser USS Marius, CS-1
In orbit around Jupiter-Europa at the L2 Lagrange Point
September 2056
Pregnant? What the hell. I can’t be pregnant. “Mom, no way I can be pregnant.”
Kate was smiling from ear to ear. “Well, that’s what happens. You and Marco are no secret. On the other hand …” Kate turned to the doc. “This is a mystery, though. I’m assuming Marco had the same procedure as all the men on board.”
The doc consulted her handheld. “According to the records, he did. Celeste is right, she should not be pregnant. However—”
I knew I couldn’t be pregnant. “There you go, Doc. Run the tests again. The auto-doc must have made a mistake.”
The doctor’s expression turned serious. “Certainly, I’ll run the tests again. But I’ll need to examine Marco. There is a small, almost miniscule chance his procedure could have reversed itself, but it does happen.”
That did not seem like reasonable odds, but a non-zero occurrence is still a chance. OK, so we’ll check Marco. “No worries. But why the serious face?”
“Two reasons. We don’t know how the fetus will develop in zero-g, so you’ll need to be restricted to the gravity wheel. And we’ll need to provide additional shielding around your quarters. And no EVAs.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. I can’t stay in the wheel. I have a job in engineering. And who’s going to pilot all the tugs? No way.”
“I’m sorry, Celeste. There is no data on human fetal development in zero-g environments. Not really an area of experimentation an ethics board would approve of. And not just the wheel, only your quarters or anywhere they can add shielding. You’re on restriction—as of right now.”
A squawk from the bulkhead speaker interrupted any further discussion.
“Attention all hands. This is the captain speaking. I know many of you have wondered why we needed to get to Europa, bristled even that the reason was classified. Ganymede or Callisto would have made far better refuges because of their size and distance from Jupiter.
“I can now reveal our follow-on mission. A rogue ship is on its way to Europa. Its purpose is to extract water and other resources from the moon and return them to the inner planets. As the only Space Force ship capable of stopping this illegal pirating, command has ordered us to intercept the ship, gain control, and prevent it from mining Europa. Space Force command has allowed deadly force, but I hope it won’t come to that.
“We have three months to get ready. I’ll be meeting with section heads to develop operational plans. Until then, keep on with your current tasks.
“Captain out.”
Holy crap. We need to fight another space battle.
###
The Space Cruiser USS Marius, CS-1
In orbit around Jupiter-Europa at the L2 Lagrange Point
November 2056
We had been in orbit for two months and I was going stir crazy. The fabricators scavenged enough shielding to cover my quarters and a small engineering workstation in the gravity wheel. The docs allowed brief excursions around the wheel for exercise. I worked on engineering designs, visited with off duty friends and so on, but all the action was on the bridge, main engineering, and piloting tugs to continue repairs on the engines, and superstructure. I felt useless. At least the nausea had subsided.
And this was no time to have me sidelined. The rogue ship was a month away, and we weren’t ready. The weapons were online, but our fuel supplies were minimal. We could have used some more of Marco’s crap fuel. Marco, coming off-shift, interrupted my wallowing in self-pity.
He walked into our quarters, looking exhausted, as usual. But today was different. His brow furrowed, eyes scrunched—worried. Yes, he was worried, and Marco never got worried.
“Honey, what’s wrong? You look wrecked.”
He took me in his arms, and after a long hug, held me by my shoulders. “Babe. We’ve got a huge problem.”
“What problem? I thought you guys fixed everything.”
“The mechanicals are all functioning, piping, pumps, equipment, etc. but I’m running out of materials. In less than a month, we won’t have drinking water.”
“Oh, my god. Are you sure?”
“I’ve done the math a hundred times. We can ration water, shower in gray water or not at all. But that only adds maybe a month. Then we all die of thirst. This whole ‘fight the bad guys’ mission will be pointless. They’ll just need to wait us out.”
I gripped his hands. “You need to tell the captain, like right now. You’re coming with me.” And I pulled him towards the door, but he tugged me back.
“Whoa, Babe. You can’t leave the wheel.”
“Don’t give me that crap. One quick trip will be fine. Let’s go.”
Navigating around the wheel, through a connecting spoke and up the central tunnel, we burst into the bridge, clearly disturbing the crew’s quiet concentration. It had been months since I’d been here and the quiet susurration of the environmentals, the flashing tell-tales on the consoles, the soft conversations with the dispersed crew, it felt like home. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this until now.
But come on, Celeste. You’re here for a reason. “Captain. Marco needs to talk to you.”
The captain pivoted to where we floated by the hatch. “Watson. What are you doing here? You’re not cleared to be in zero-g. Get back to your quarters.”
“Hang on one second, Captain. Hear what Marco has to say and then I’m gone.”
The captain glanced back and forth between me and Marco, a scowl on his face, which truthfully always seemed to be there. “Well, Fuentes. Spit it out.”
Marco kneaded his hands. “Sir. I’m running out of flocculants.”
The captain’s scowl deepened. If that was even possible. “What the hell are flocculants and why is that an urgent problem?”
“Well, Sir. After we do the first macro-filtering of the sewage, we add flocculants to make sure all the particles in the material clump together, then we filter it again, before we run it through reverse osmosis to remove the remaining impurities, then we irradia—”
The captain held up his hand. “Ok. I don’t need the entire process. Get to the point.”
Marco hesitated. “We have enough material to purify the sewage into drinking water to last a month, maybe two, if we ration it.”
The conversations on the bridge went silent. If not all their eyes, everyone had their ears focused on the captain.
After a moment of thick silence, the captain shifted in his chair. “And there’s no other material that would work and no other way to filter out the particles.”
“No sir. Without the flocculant, some particles would remain, and that could sicken the crew. We lost most of our supply in the battle. I’ve tried to stretch it, but that only goes so far before particulates leak through.”
“Can we use some more of the fuel as drinking water?”
Mae was on the bridge, and she floated over to the captain’s chair, securing her feet to a pair of deck restraints. “I’m afraid not, Captain. Those tanks aren’t shielded. The water is contaminated with radionuclides. That would be worse than drinking the untreated sewage.”
Marco glided forward and grabbed a handhold. “Captain, I can handle those. I have plenty of reverse osmosis resin and can recycle what I use. Bypassing the filtering process, I can purify the continuous thrust engine fuel to safe drinking water.”
Mae gently put her hand on the captain’s arm. I swear I saw a gleam in his eye. But maybe not.
She released his arm. “Captain, we need that fuel to maneuver, particularly if we’re to engage the oncoming ship. We need some just to maintain our orbit behind Europa.”
The captain’s scowl softened. Nope, there it was. He’s sweet on our engineer. Come on, Celeste. Focus.
“Thank you, Chief. It’ll be a balancing act, but flying the ship will be moot if we can’t obtain water. OK, Fuentes. Get it done. Work with the chief to minimize the draw down of fuel.”
“Yes sir. And we can store the contaminated water from the sewage system as fuel for the nukes. I know it gucks up the works, but it’s something.”
“Ok. Understood. Get it done.” The captain spun his chair back around. “And Watson, get you and that baby back to your quarters. Now.”
“Yes, sir.” Well, it was nice while it lasted.
###
Jezero Crater, Mars
Southeast of the Martian Outpost at Lyot
November 2056
The survey team had been on site in Jezero Crater for almost two weeks, prospecting for mineable ice beds. Their last stop before heading back to base at Lyot was to take some readings from the decommissioned rover Perseverance. The signers of the Artemis Accords II had agreed to leave historical landers in place, but that didn’t prohibit monitoring how the rover’s materials had fared in the harsh Martian environment over the last thirty-five years.
Standing beside the thermo-electric power pack at the rear of Perseverance, Samuelson tapped his instrument. These readings can’t be right, he thought. He clicked his mic. “Bart, get over here. Bring your radiometer.”
Bart’s response was static in Samuelson’s earpiece. Fading in and out, in almost a rhythmic pattern. “Bart. Do you copy? Come in.”
Bart arrived at a slow, shallow trot they’d learned to adopt in the low Martian gravity. As he drew closer, the static cleared. “Samuelson, something wrong with your radio?”
Samuelson waved that question away. “Nothing wrong with my radio. It seems to be local interference. But here’s the issue.” He showed Bart the readings. “This pack should be at least fifty percent. Too low to power the rover, but the plutonium has degraded ninety percent. That shouldn’t happen. See what yours reads.”
Bart activated his instrument. “Same reading. Down ninety percent. This is odd.”
“Well, we can’t stay any longer. Let’s document the readings and get back to base. We’ll see if they can figure it out.”
Bart ran a last scan and packed away his gear. “All done. Let’s go home.”
Stayed tuned for Episode Seven: Ship Off the Starboard Bow and Episode Eight: Spare Parts coming your way in May.
The final episodes, will post in mid-May, And Sometimes There’s a Twist.
Thanks for reading.