Blowing the Dust off Mars (2012)

By Nicholas Sheffield

It took them five months to get there.

Now the two astronauts have finally arrived on Mars. Their mission is to recover samples from a deep-well exploration rig, which has been stranded for twelve years. One of those samples in its lab - a new metal element - could have a huge impact on power generation back on Earth. Perhaps it could even make interstellar travel a possibility.

But it soon becomes apparent that someone doesn't want them to take it back. And Mars can be a desolate planet when things go wrong.

(Revised Edition)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicholas Sheffield
• Release date: Jun 22, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458022660

Nicholas Sheffield

Nicholas Sheffield grew up in Hamilton, New Zealand. He obtained a Bachelor of Management Studies from the University of Waikato, and has a long history of work in the Information Systems sector. He and his wife Simone have six children. Double Dragon published his first work, Overlanders, in 2004. The novel revolves around a group of friends whose utopian existence is put at risk when they’re thrust into the archaic and dangerous cities of the overlands. Sheffield’s writings are generally set in, or around, the Earth, and employ a plausible use of technology. Therefore many of the popular science fiction themes, such as time travel and alternative dimensions, never appear in his works. The concepts that form the spine of each story are often as important as the main narrative. They’re not always held up to the spotlight, but tend to be woven quietly into the background.

Book preview

Blowing the Dust off Mars

Published by Nicholas Sheffield at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Nicholas Sheffield

Cover photo NASA

When my name was etched in the annals of history after all, I turned to mock the nay-sayers. But for the life of me I couldn’t remember who they were.

- Professor Paderewski at a Science Convention

Beth looked out through the cockpit window again. This time her vigilance was rewarded. A green-suited figure was walking towards the spacecraft across Mars’ parched and rocky landscape, kicking up the red-tinged dust with a pair of hefty moon boots. It was a welcome sight. That astronaut had been out of radio contact due to atmospheric interference for the last hour. It was Teresa, her co-pilot.

Beth immediately reported the sighting.

‘Terrene Control, this is Ares. I have visual on our walker. Coming in from North-North-East. Distance two kilometres. Appears to be fine. Nomad in tow. No sign of Camel-3 I’m afraid.’

She closed off the call and drew away from the com-link. There was actually no point waiting for a reply as the round trip for a radio message to Earth - including the belated response - took more than twenty minutes. She turned her attention to the landing checks. She’d been going through them for many hours but there were still a few things to do.

Some time later the green suited figure stepped off the desert wilderness and entered the ship through a small side hatch.

Back in the cockpit a response to Beth’s report finally came in. The voice through the intercom sounded brusque and croaky with age. It belonged to the Mission Director, Brian Smales, who always took on the communication role when he was on shift. This time there was a hint of disappointment in his tone - no doubt a reaction to the negative report on the exploration vehicle.

‘Ares this is Terrene Control,’ he announced. ‘Message Received. Don’t concern yourself. We’ll debrief at Fourteen Hundred Greenwich. Tell that other woman to take some rest.’

‘Copy that,’ said Beth instinctively.

As the connection dropped off she rubbed her palms over her aching eyes. She’d been running through the craft’s post-landing checklist for the last six hours and fatigue was beginning to set in. Technical problems en route had meant that the usually mundane task had taken much longer than it should have.

She walked over to one of the cushioned recliner seats and slumped down. A bit of a shuffle to find a comfortable position, then she shut her eyes and tried to get a few moments rest.

<<<<<>>>>>

Teresa was still shaking red dust off her clothes as she made her way from the compression chamber to the cockpit. The fine powder had spilt off the crevices of her spacesuit onto her undergarments when she was getting undressed. She needed to get rid of every last bit. Such contaminants were quite unwelcome in the main control centre where delicate components were housed.

Beth rolled up on to one elbow as Teresa entered the room. She studied the other woman’s face attentively, taking note of the red cheeks, sweaty brow, and heavy breath.

‘How did the Camel check out?’ she asked.

‘Dead,’ replied Teresa, flicking her head to get a lock of sweaty blond hair out of her eyes. ‘There’s wires hanging out, bits melted, all the solar panels have corroded.’

Beth whistled through her teeth. ‘Not surprising I guess. It’s been sitting under a layer of sand for twelve years.’

‘Yeah, maybe’ said Teresa. It was a rather hesitant answer and she swayed her head from side to side with misgiving. ‘I guess that accounted for some of the damage.’

Beth shuffled onto her back again. ‘Some of it? Was there something else besides the wrath of Mars?’

Teresa gave her companion a vague look. ‘Possibly. I don’t actually think it was knocked out of commission by a dust devil. I could be wrong, but, well… there was hardly any pitting on the skin.’

‘What do you think knocked it out then?’

‘Not completely sure. It succumbed to some sort of internal failure near the main drive motor, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. There were traces of a small explosion.’

‘Oh?’ said Beth with surprise. ‘An explosion?’ She looked blankly at her companion and pondered that for a moment. ‘Well, that still might have been a dust devil, you know. The heavy sands at the base of the funnel tend to discharge a bit of electricity… could have caused some arcing.’

Teresa turned away and began to fix herself a bite to eat. ‘Feasible, but I didn’t get the impression that that was the cause. There was no damage to the exposed parts. You’d expect atmospheric discharge to show some signs of contact on the externals... some scorch marks at the entry and exit points… some obvious damage you could attribute to a strike. You know. But the only damage was right in the heart of the electronics and nowhere else.’

Beth wasn’t so sure. There was no way of knowing exactly how electricity was discharged in one of those swirling, vertical dust storms. But she wasn’t prepared to argue the point.

‘Not going to bring it back?’ she asked.

Teresa shook her head. ‘No, I’m going to