How to Have Sex on Mars Pt 13

How To Have Sex On Mars

Part 13 of 16

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Mars. For millennia, the Red Planet has fired humanity's imagination.

Scientists like Percival Lowell thought it was an "abode of life" with irrigation canals transporting water from the polar icecaps to farms in the warm equatorial region. Novelists like Edgar Rice Burroughs, Ray Bradbury, and Robert A. Heinlein imagined Martian civilizations.

NASA spacecraft revealed that Mars is a cold desert, but that vast amounts of frozen water can be found just below the dusty surface. Today, members of groups like The Mars Society are making plans to build a permanent colony there.

That work would be done by people like our protagonist, Mike Russell, an astronaut who spends years working and living on Mars. What would it be like to be one of the first people to call Mars home? For Mike, it includes the discovery that sex on Mars is very different from on Earth - and Vive la différence!

Here in Part 13, the Martian colonists suffer a catastrophe.

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Things happened fast after I reported Cindy's psychotic episode. The base doctors specialized in emergency medicine, not psychiatry. Our pharmacy had most of the drugs needed to treat patients with serious psychiatric disorders, but our doctors had no experience with such patients.

They consulted with specialists on Earth, who diagnosed Cindy as suffering from manic delusions caused by bipolar disorder. They recommended a cocktail of medications intended to treat Cindy's symptoms. But medications like that take weeks to help.

That meant Elke had a big problem. She had a crew member who needed to be confined for her safety and ours. But we had no place to put her. There were long-range plans to build a secure holding cell for personnel who needed to be incarcerated, but nothing like that existed back in the early years of the base.

Besides, Cindy wasn't a criminal. She was sick. Nobody wanted to lock her up. When my uncle got sick he was admitted to psychiatric hospitals with locked wards that allowed him and the other patients to roam freely, in safety, as doctors treated their symptoms. It kept the patients from doing dangerous things, like driving, while waiting for their medications to take effect.

Every time my uncle got sick, he argued that there was nothing wrong with him, and he resisted being hospitalized. Cindy was the same. She argued that the base was threatened by some malevolent group of beings outside, and that soon they'd find a way to kill us all.

She was most upset with me. Cindy realized that I was the person who reported her condition, and it made her so angry that she got agitated every time she saw me. I tried to avoid contact, but that wasn't easy. The base was small back then. We lived in close quarters.

As commander, Elke had to figure out a way to keep Cindy from doing anything dangerous. Everyone was given orders to be alert and intervene if they witnessed Cindy doing something she shouldn't.

"What's going to happen, Mike?" Elke asked me. She'd had no experience with mentally ill people, and she hoped that my memories of my uncle would provide insights.

"There's no way to know," I answered. "It takes a while for the meds to kick in. Sometimes it took weeks for my uncle's delusions to stop. The docs on Earth are the ones to ask, but I think they'll say they can't predict this.

"The most important thing I can tell you is that it's very likely that Cindy won't want to take her medicine," I said. "She doesn't think she's sick. She might decide that the doctors asking her to take medication are conspiring with the evildoers she imagines are outside. My uncle didn't think he needed pills.

"Somebody is going to have to hand Cindy her medicine, then watch to make sure she takes it. Otherwise, she'll just toss it in the trash, and never get better."

We all quickly realized we needed to take steps to make the base safer. We locked up the power tools because we worried that Cindy might do something like pick up a hand drill and start making holes in the outside walls. Things like hammers and knives were put away because they could be used as weapons.

It's hard to explain how all this affected our state of mind.

We were astronauts. We accepted the fact that it was a dangerous job, and we trained for all kinds of dangerous possibilities. But we'd never trained for anything like this. The fact that few of us had personal experience with mentally ill people made the whole mess a lot scarier.

At one point Elke ordered the people in the 3D lab to fabricate a straitjacket. I am not making that up. It was a horrible time, and we worried that it could get worse before it got better.

There was just one piece of good news. Our three-year tour of duty on Mars was about to end. A small fleet of spacecraft carrying cargo and the replacement crew was on its way from Earth. They were scheduled to land in three months. The idea that our long period of stressful isolation was going to end buoyed everyone's mood.

The new crew would arrive at a base that was bigger, more comfortable, and more functional than promised. Agatha and I were proud of the fact that our power systems were so robust. Adeline's greenhouse was bursting with so much food that walking through it was like visiting a lush, green jungle with clean, fresh air. The new crew wouldn't be greeted by the kind of grime and odors we found when we relieved the previous crew.

If things went well, Cindy's symptoms would improve by the time the rockets got here, and nobody would worry about sharing space with her during the seven-month trip home.

As everyone knows, things did not go well.

I realize that you readers expect me to provide a detailed explanation of how everything went so wrong. You must know that I was the guy who saw it best. But these are the worst memories of my life, and I haven't talked about them publicly because sharing them is so painful. Besides, this book is called

"How to Have Sex on Mars."

It's supposed to be about happy, sexy stuff. There was nothing happy or sexy about what happened next.

For years, Elke, Adeline, and Grace have encouraged me to talk about what happened. Grace has been particularly insistent, saying I have a duty to add what I know to the historical record. I realize they are correct, but I still dread revisiting such a traumatic experience.

Here goes.

I was sleeping in the cabin of Helen Wyndom, one of my harem girls. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the sex we had that evening. The fact that everybody was so stressed and scared about Cindy meant that Helen and I were mainly interested in the kind of sex that provided more comfort than thrills. We fell asleep in each other's arms. I was dreaming about Earth when I heard Grace's voice.

Grace has a recording of all this, so the dialogue you are about to read is word-for-word the way it happened.

"Mike! Wake up! There's an emergency! Wake up, Mike!"

Grace's voice came over the little communicator we all carried. For your information, it was just an iPhone 39. Since Apple was an official sponsor of the Mars mission, they gave us all smartphones and a wifi system that allowed us to communicate, download apps, send texts to Earth, and do all kinds of useful things. It also allowed Grace to contact us, which is how she got in touch with me even though I was asleep in Helen's private cabin and it was the middle of the night.

I sat up in bed, startled. Even though I was half asleep, I knew from the tone of Grace's voice that I needed to wake up.

"What's the problem, Grace?" I asked.

"You need to put your spacesuit on, Mike! Right now! It's urgent! Go to the docking area immediately. I'll tell you why as you go. Move. Immediately."

I put my feet on the floor and stood up. "Don't take the time to put your uniform on, Mike," Grace said. "You don't have time."

"But I'm naked," I said.

"That doesn't matter. Get to the docking area as fast as you can."

I was still a bit woozy, but I opened the cabin door and jogged down the corridor, buck naked. I'd never tried jogging indoors before, and I hit my head on the ceiling a couple of times. Only a few people were awake during the night shift. They looked puzzled and alarmed. Grace was contacting several crew members, informing them of the emergency, and giving instructions on how they should respond.

"Mike, you aren't going to have time to put on your thermal layer," Grace said. "Just put on the spacesuit and get in the airlock. I'll explain more then."

That was alarming. Under our spacesuits, we always wear a "thermal layer" that is like an insulating bodysuit. Electrical wires that function as heating elements are woven through the fabric. It gets pretty cold on Mars, especially at night, and I wasn't anxious to go outside without the thermal layer to protect me. By this time I was awake enough to realize how serious things were. I knew the emergency must be pretty bad if Grace thought it was so urgent that I needed to go outside without taking time to put on my thermal layer.

I got to the docking area, grabbed my suit off the rack, and put it on as fast as I could. Just about then a crew member named Jake Brianson arrived; Grace had asked him to help me with the zippers and helmet. With Jake's help, I was able to get suited up and step into the airlock much faster.

"What's going on, Grace?" I asked as she began pumping air from the airlock.

"There's been an explosive decompression in the west end of the base," Grace said. "The airlock door is open. You need to get there as fast as you can and close that door. After that, I can start pumping air back into the enclosure."

No wonder Grace was in a hurry.

"Fatalities?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

The airlock door opened and I ran outside. The cold began penetrating my suit immediately, especially near my feet, which were in contact with the frigid ground. It was 139 degrees below zero that night. It wouldn't have been a problem if I was wearing my thermal layer. It was a big problem without it.

"Mike, you need to run to the west airlock as fast as you can. Also, turn on your suit's camera so I can see what happened. I don't know what caused this problem yet, and I need that information to solve it."

I pressed the button on my chest, activating the camera. The stars are unusually bright on Mars because the atmosphere is so thin. Starlight illuminated the landscape. If the situation wasn't so dire, I would have enjoyed admiring the night sky and the silvery Martian horizon.

It was a long way to the west airlock, which was located on the far side of the base. Fortunately, I'd spent enough time working outside that I knew exactly which path to take to run there as quickly as possible.

"After you get the airlock door closed, it will take several minutes to restore pressure to survivable levels. During this time you will need to assess the situation so I can see what kind of rescue measures are possible."

"I understand," I said. What I didn't say was that my feet felt like two blocks of ice, and the rest of my body felt like I'd jumped into a frozen lake.

I finally got close enough to see a body sprawled on the ground in front of the airlock. It was Cindy. She'd opened the door, triggering an explosive decompression that blasted her body away. Grace saw it when I did.

"Don't take the time to try to help her, Mike. It's too late," she said.

I couldn't help myself. I picked up Cindy's body and stuffed her inside the airlock. It only took a second - she didn't weigh much in the reduced gravity - but as soon as I touched the body I realized Grace was right. Cindy was frozen solid.

I pulled the door shut and latched it. Grace began pumping air into the part of the enclosure exposed to vacuum.

"Mike, I know you must be very cold, but you need to keep working," Grace said. "There are several sections of the base that didn't lose pressure. You need to go to each one and look for survivors."

"How are there places that still have air?" I asked.

"When I detected the loss of pressure, I closed every door I could control," Grace said. "That's why only the west section was affected; I managed to seal the door separating it from the main part of the base. Inside the west section, there are four doors I control. I feel sure that there must be survivors somewhere in those four enclosures."

I understood. Moving as quickly as possible with my icy feet, I limped to the first closed door. Each door has a porthole, and when I looked inside I saw three members of the water extraction and reclamation team. "Hold the camera up to the porthole, Mike," Grace said. As soon as she recognized their faces, she called them on their iPhones and told them to stay put while she repressurized the area. They reported later that they had no idea why they'd been sealed inside the room, and when they got an explanation they looked relieved.

I was limping toward the next door when I saw two bodies sprawled in front of me. Alan Haldeman was a member of the construction team; Alice Pohl was a sanitation engineer. I knew both of them, and I tried not to look at their bodies too closely. It wasn't a good idea to think about things like that until the immediate crisis was over.

I went to two more enclosed areas, let Grace identify survivors through the portholes, and then saw how relieved they looked after Grace called them to let them know they'd be out soon. I was heading toward the last door when I saw two more bodies - Anne Williamson was the head of food service, and Margaret Sturgeon worked as a digital systems analyst. There was no one in the last room, so I began to relax. I'd done everything I needed to do.

Almost

"Mike, I realize you must be freezing," Grace said. "I need you to do one more thing. Elke is standing on the other side of the door that separates the west section from the rest of the base. I've given her a report on what you've done so far, but she has some questions. She wants to speak to you face-to-face."

"I'm alright," I said to Grace. That wasn't true. My feet hurt so much that I was pretty sure I was the opposite of all right. But that seemed like information I didn't need to share until the emergency was over.

I was almost at the door when I saw Agatha. Her body was sprawled over the floor, her limbs spread in all four directions. She must have been knocked over by the rush of air when Cindy opened the airlock. I'd tried to avoid looking too closely at the bodies I'd encountered thus far, but I felt an irresistible need to look at Agatha.

I bent over and saw her face. It horrified me, and that image has returned to me in nightmares that continue to this day. Agatha's face was contorted by fear and shock. Her eyes bulged. So many tiny blood vessels burst under her skin that she looked discolored. Ice crystals were on her tongue. There was some vomit near her mouth. There was no way to look at Agatha's face without knowing she died in agony.

How can I ever describe what I felt? I'd lost a woman I loved. It was hard to accept that someone who meant so much to me was gone forever. I felt sick to my stomach. The pain of frostbite was becoming severe.

That's when I did something you should never do. I threw up in my spacesuit. Specks of vomit covered the inside of my visor, and it smelled. I reached up to wipe my face and nose, but there was no way to do that without removing my helmet first.

"Try to stand up, Mike," Grace said, using a gentle tone of voice. "You need to report to Elke."

"Ok, Grace," I said, limping to the door separating the base's west section from the main section. Vomit that had been in my helmet dripped down into my suit. I saw Elke's face through the porthole. She looked remarkably calm. I felt comfort in knowing that Elke was in charge.

"Are there any signs of structural damage caused by the decompression?" she asked.

"None," I replied. "Judging from what I saw, Cindy opened the door, and let out the air, but caused no secondary damage. I imagine there will be damage to individual items that are vulnerable to vacuum and cold, but I saw no evidence of that."

"How about you?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Mike was exposed to extreme cold," Grace said. "The doctors should be prepared to treat him for frostbite as quickly as possible."

"I'll let them know," Elke said. "Grace, how long until we can open this door?"

"I am not sure, Commander," Grace said. "Nothing in the base's specifications addressed this eventuality. There is still a significant difference in air pressure. I will inform you as soon as we reach equilibrium."

That turned out not to be true. I was standing on one side of the door and Elke was standing on the other. We were looking at each other through the porthole. I remember I was thinking about the worsening pain in my feet, and wondering if the doctors would have to amputate anything. The smell of vomit was overpowering. I just wanted to get inside, take off my spacesuit, and let the doctors do whatever they could.

What none of us knew is that when Grace shut that door, the latch didn't engage properly. Investigators later determined the problem originated when it was manufactured. It had shut tight enough to seal in the air, but the lock was working loose, and it picked that exact moment to fail. The door blasted open, propelled by the force of the compressed air on the far side.

It slammed into me so hard it broke my visor, releasing all the air. I flew backward and hit a bulkhead behind me. Elke flew forward, slamming into me.

I felt the impact of Elke's body as the air was sucked from my lungs.

This is what it's like to die,

I thought to myself as black spots appeared in my vision.

I didn't die, but sometimes I think that what happened instead was almost as bad.

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The next thing I remember is waking up in pain. I was in sick bay, listening to the beep beep beep of a heart monitor. The first thing I saw was an IV bag with a tube plugged into a vein in my arm. It took a great deal of effort, but I managed to raise my head high enough to see that both my feet were wrapped in white bandages that reached almost to my knees. My feet hurt, but they would have hurt a lot more if the doctors hadn't administered enough pain medication to sedate a rhino.

There was a throbbing pain in my lungs caused by the damage done when I was exposed to a vacuum. Although it hurt, I was fortunate. The sudden rush of air from the main part of the base repressurized the west section rapidly, so my lungs weren't permanently injured.

I learned later that my IV bag contained medicine given to frostbite victims. It causes tiny blood vessels to expand, restoring blood flow to damaged tissue. The only reason the doctors didn't have to amputate my toes is that they began administering that drug seconds after getting my naked, vomit-covered body out of my spacesuit. I never asked who got the job of cleaning me up, so I'll take the opportunity to thank them now. I'm sure that was an unpleasant task.

I was so tranquilized that I drifted in and out of sleep. When the doctor finally started weening me off the painkillers, I discovered that I couldn't talk because there was a breathing tube down my throat. A respirator pumped air in and out of my damaged lungs for two days.

I was vaguely aware of the fact that Adeline was nearby much of the time. I also saw Elke, whose head was bandaged from the injuries she sustained when she slammed into me after the door failed. Every so often I'd open my eyes and see one of my harem girls looking down at me. I realized they were holding my hand and saying comforting words I wasn't awake enough to understand.