Below Mercury (4 page)

So, Matt thought. No public censure of PMI for six years of obstruction and intimidation. So
had
there been a deal behind the scenes, as Laker had heard?

‘Second, the overpressure readings in the hangar before the outer doors failed and allowed the mine atmosphere to escape. You will recall that the original data record was missing these readings due to the data corruption that occurred at the time of the accident. You have heard from the airlock sub-committee that the reconstructed telemetry data does
not
show convincing evidence of a critical overpressure in the hangar, high enough to exceed the design limits of the main hangar doors. In this respect, we differ from the findings of the original investigation board.

‘The lack of a critical overpressure reading, however, does not mean that the doors could not have failed at a lower pressure, due to design inadequacy or manufacturing defect. We support the findings of the original investigation in this respect, however, and find no convincing evidence that either of these possibilities occurred.’

‘I now turn to the third key finding; the recovered data from the systems telemetry. After exhaustive examination of this new data, including simulations of possible command sequences that would produce the data, we cannot come to any firm conclusion. There is some evidence to suggest that the duty personnel attempted to close the internal pressure doors. Some of the other data, however, including the door position readings, contradicts this interpretation, and we do not find it conclusive.

‘Certain discrepancies were also noted in the recovered data for the alarm log, that caused the sub-committee some concern, including some inconsistent data frames, but this cannot be determined with any certainty.’

Trent paused, and went on to summarise the conclusions of the remaining sub-committees. Most had returned the same conclusions as before, with minor changes to the sequence of events.

After giving these, he stopped, and took a sip of water.

Here it comes, Matt thought.

The moment seemed to take an age, as if Trent was drinking in slow motion, the glass returning to the desk like the slow fall of an object on the Moon. Next to Matt, Laker leaned forward, his hands clenched.

At last, Trent adjusted his glasses and opened his mouth, to deliver the long-awaited words.

‘In summary, this board fails to find sufficient evidence for any failure of the outer airlock doors below design loads, nor do we find sufficient evidence of a critical overpressure that would have caused them to fail. The reason for the failure of the main mine doors therefore cannot be determined with any level of certainty. In addition, we cannot reach a conclusion on whether the internal pressure doors in the mine were commanded to close, and if they were, whether they operated as they were designed.

‘The overall conclusion of this board is, therefore, that we cannot come to a decision on the validity of the original findings without an investigative mission to the mine. The board will therefore be recommending—’

The chairman’s words were drowned out by the rising sound of voices in the chamber. Trent stopped, and banged his gavel once, then a second time, glaring round the room. The talking faded.

‘I repeat, the board will therefore be recommending – that an expedition is commissioned to visit Erebus Mine in Chao Meng-fu crater, with a brief to gather evidence to enable the board to reach a revised final conclusion.’

Once again, a hubbub of voices ran round the room. Trent banged his gavel twice more, but the noise would not abate. He banged the gavel again, and continued banging until the talking subsided.

‘This investigation board will re-convene once the expedition returns and will review the new evidence, and provide a revised report once our investigations are complete.

‘In summary, this board makes the following recommendations. One – that the investigation into the accident at Erebus Mine is held open pending the results of an investigative mission. Two – that an investigative mission is despatched to Mercury, with permission from the Space Graves Commission to enter the mine and investigate further the circumstances of the airlock door failure. Three – that this mission is completed and a formal report submitted to this board within one year from now.

‘The scope of this mission is to be limited strictly to a set of key objectives, set out in detail in our written report, which will be available from our staff at the conclusion of this presentation. A condition of undertaking this mission is that, when all feasible investigation is complete and appropriate evidence recovered, the mine entrance is to be sealed with explosives and a memorial plaque set in place. The Space Graves Commission have made it clear that following this mission, there will be no further missions allowed without the agreement of
all
the surviving relatives.’

Trent looked up briefly, scanning the room to emphasise the last point, then returned to his notes.

‘We will be recommending that the investigative team be composed of appropriate representatives from the principal interested parties in the accident. This will include the Space Graves Commission, the Space Accident Investigation Board, Planetary Mining Inc., the Space Mines Inspectorate, and the Erebus Mine Accident Class Action Group. Subject to Court approval, the costs of the expedition will be shared by the FSAA and PMI. The US Astronautics Corps have confirmed that they will release a deep space tug from operational duties for this mission.’

The chairman paused, and people in the room started talking again. Some got up from their seats, expecting that this was the end of the statement, but Trent had not finished.

‘The interested parties—’ he began, and stopped again. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, will you please be seated. Sir, will you
please
be seated. Thank you.

‘The interested parties must submit their nominations for their representative on the mission to this board within thirty days. We have received a nomination already from the class action group that Mr Matt Crawford would be their candidate if any mission were to be mounted, and we are prepared to accept this nomination. The board will provide a full crew list once all nominations have been received and accepted.’

Trent looked up again.

It seemed to Matt that, for a moment, the chairman was looking directly at him. The look could have meant anything, just simple recognition, but there was something in Trent’s eyes that was more like a caution – or a warning. You need to watch yourself, the eyes seemed to say, then they flicked away, and the moment was gone.

‘This board meeting is adjourned.’

After years of fighting what had seemed like a losing battle, the sudden and unexpected victory came as quite a shock to Matt. He found himself on the mezzanine floor outside the committee room, shaking hands with people, listening to the congratulations of the various lawyers and representatives of the relatives, even some of the SAIB staff. He moved and spoke in a daze, and could only smile and say how pleased he was with the outcome.

The investigation board was giving a press conference inside the vacated committee room; through the open doors, Matt could see Trent standing up, answering questions, while a TV camera crew moved to get a better shot of him. Outside the doors, SAIB staff were giving out copies of the interim report, and the lawyers were devouring these, riffling through the pages until they found the full text of the conclusion.

Smiling broadly, John Laker came up to Matt, holding open a copy of the report.

‘Look, you’re even in the report, they can’t change their mind now!’ Laker pointed to the section, where it repeated the chairman’s words, and Matt’s name. Laker was still talking as Matt took the report and tried to read it, still unable to accept that he would be going back, and as part of an official mission.

There was more detail about the investigative mission in the written report. PMI, the SAIB and the FSAA had clearly been doing some concerted behind-the-scenes bargaining.

The FSAA were going to requisition a suitable deep space tug from the current movement schedule, to take the mission to Mercury ‘at the earliest practicable date’. The Astronautics Corps would be providing a spacecraft and flight crew for the mission, and would assume responsibility for transporting a four-person team to Mercury and back again. The team would be four, rather than five, as the SAIB team member would also represent the interests of the Space Graves Commission.

‘I don’t understand; it seems such a small team,’ Matt said, frowning. ‘Surely they need more experts from the SAIB for something this big?’

‘Matt, that’s exactly the point.’ Laker clapped Matt on the back. The lawyer was exuberant, smiling. ‘They don’t need a big team – the whole case centres on the main airlock doors. If we can find evidence that the internal pressure doors failed to operate, or that the main doors failed below their design limits, then that will open up all the compensation claims.’

Matt shook his head, then realised he should have been nodding. It was all happening too fast for him to take in.

‘Matt, congratulations!’ Rebecca Short appeared from out of the crowd of people. ‘After all your work, what a tremendous outcome. You must be delighted.’ Her eyes were shining.

‘Delighted? I’m a bit shocked, actually. Did you know about the relatives proposing me as their representative?’

‘John and I knew, but we didn’t want to tell you, in case it came to nothing. We’re so pleased,’ she added, smiling.

‘Oh, Matt, before I forget,’ Laker said, ‘some of the relatives are here downstairs. They’ve asked if we could join them for dinner tonight. It seems we have something to celebrate.’

Matt was on the verge of declining, but then he changed his mind.

‘Sure. Yes, I’d like that. I’d like that very much.’

‘Excellent. I’ll get some of the other guys together. Say, I’ve got to get some more copies of this report before they run out. I’ll pick you up at seven for drinks, okay?’ With a wave, Laker hurried off, followed by Short, who said she had to go and speak to the relatives.

Matt watched them disappear past the scrum of people around the beleaguered SAIB staff. For the first time in a long while he found himself smiling, from the heart, and it felt good.

The relatives had given him a chance to live again, he realised. They had trusted him with all their hopes and fears by putting him forward for the mission, and that made him feel a whole lot better about some things that had been eating away at his self-esteem. He couldn’t let them down. That meant dealing with something that he knew he should have dealt with some time ago, but had lacked the willpower.

Well, if he didn’t have it now, he never would.

He skirted the crowd that were still milling about outside the committee room, and went down the stairs towards the exit. As he left the building and set off back to the hotel, there was a set to his jaw, and a purpose in his stride, that had not been there that morning.

Matt lifted the glass to the sunset in his hotel room. He watched the bright bubbles rise through the golden liquid and thought: I have never seen a beer, such as this.

If you’ve never been on the borderline, he thought, you’ll never know what it’s like to crave a drink.

You’ll never know that feeling of a cold beer bottle, and the way that the dew forms on its cold outside, and the beauty of the bubbles as they rise through the liquid, forming a glistening foam.

All day he had sat and listened to the dry presentations of the investigation board, and all day he had been thinking of the beers in his hotel room, waiting for his return.

He sighed. It was going to be very hard, but it had to be tonight, or the next few months would be one long struggle, one postponed deadline after another, all the way to launch day.

There was no alcohol allowed in space; in the lower pressure and oxygen-enhanced atmosphere aboard spacecraft, it had an even worse effect than it did here on Earth.

He had the beers lined up, cold and glistening, waiting for him in the fridge in his hotel room, waiting for him to open them and pour the ice-cold liquid into the cold glass (carefully placed in the fridge that morning, to make sure it was cold for his return).

He knew that he had been planning for the familiar pattern of failure, followed by losing himself in drink, instead of the possibility of success. It was a message that he should start getting his life back in shape again.

Matt tilted the bottle, and the remaining pale liquid gushed and fretted into the ice-cold glass.

I have never seen a beer, such as this.

He raised the glass to his lips. The afterglow of the sunset on the Potomac River shone through the beer, turning it to shimmering gold, and he knew it would be like the nectar of heaven.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he blinked. He wanted the beer so badly that it almost hurt.

If you’ve never been on the borderline, you’ll never know.

I have never seen a beer …

… such as this.

Matt lowered the glass from his lips, and walked to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the washbasin, at the eyes looking back at him. There was something in them, a sparkle and vitality that he hadn’t seen for a very long time. They were like the eyes of a familiar but long-lost friend, smiling back at him.