The Attempt (The Martian Manifesto Book 1)

BOOK: The Attempt (The Martian Manifesto Book 1)
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The Attempt

Book One
of

The Martian Manifesto

 

b
y Bob Lee

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

Text c
opyright © 2014 Bob Lee

 

All rights reserved.

 

Cover design by Bob Lee

To all my friends and family who made this book possible.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Mars Colony Cult
“The Called”

Brother Jacobs
– Leader of “The Called” and extremely rich ex-movie star

Je
ff Chiswick
– 6’3”, aka ‘Platinum One’ (second in command)

Bonnie Chiswick
– Jeff’s wife and a Bronze member of the cult

Jean Chiswick, Julie Chiswick
– Jeff’s and Bonnie’s children ages 13 and 6

Dog: Lucky
(female);
Goat: Lotus
(female)

George Biggs
– 6’2, aka ‘Platinum Two’

Celia Biggs
– George’s wife, Gold member of the cult

Old Sue
– Bronze member of the cult and Bonnie’s friend

Harry and Henry Hampton
– 10 year old twins

NASA Astronauts with “T
he Called”

Commander Roy “Owl” Olstein

Pilot Samantha “Sam” Tuttle

On Earth

Brick Shinefield
– “Flight” at Mission Control

Terri
– Mars Biologist Charles Winston’s fiancée

Paul Finkelstein
– Alien conspiracy theorist

NASA Mars Base
Astronauts

Commander Grant Stiles

Charles “Chuck” Winston
– Biologist/Geneticist

Brad Newton
– Geologist

Sergey “Serge” Andreovich
– Mission Engineer/Technologist

Chinese/North Koreans

Li Julong
– Chief Scientist

General Zhou
DeSheng
– People’s Liberation Army (PLA)

Sergeant
Wong Sheng
- NCO (Non-Commissioned Officer) of the PLA

Chinese
notes:
Last names usually come first. Li Xiansheng = Mr. Li; Lao Li = Old Li (familiar)

PROLOGUE

Probe ‘Spit’ streaked through the thin red atmosphere and spread its braking frills. The iris of its eye had spotted the perfect landing spot on the lifeless planet below—a crater with salty water seeping down its sides in the noonday sun. “Soon,” it thought. “Soon Stage One will be completed.” Although pockmarked after its long voyage, the probe was adequate to its task. It spread its frills further, and ignited its landing fires. The creators had built carefully to ensure Spit’s success. As it streaked through the thin atmosphere, the probe adjusted for the changing air density over the varied terrain below in order to land in the middle of its targeted crater.

When it had slowed to a subsonic velocity
, Spit detached its frills on an extended tether. The whirling frills slowed it further. “Slow, slow,” its programming demanded. “The cargo has to be protected. Nurtured.”

Upon landing, Spit reeled in the frills
and surveyed its location. The pinkish red sand was flat, comforting and familiar. “There must be no evidence,” the programming dictated. The diggers of Spit’s feet spun furiously, and in a moment it had disappeared from sight. Stage Two in the planned destruction of the creatures of the nearby third planet had begun.

# # #

“Ladies and gentlemen, please ensure that your harnesses are secure,” Pilot Martinez intoned over the ship’s intercom. “We are about to begin our landing on Mars, your soon-to-be new home.” He flipped the switch to the off position, which disabled the speaker to the rear cabin, and looked at the woman seated on his left. “All systems nominal, Commander. The radar we’ll need for final approach on Mars is successfully deployed, and we have our entry trajectory plotted. We’re ready for the entry burn.”

Commander Suki Nakamu
ra scanned the gauges in front of her. “Good job, Manny,” she replied. “Here we go.”

Both astronauts felt the jolt of the main engines igniting as the commander initiated the burn. The cabin
started to vibrate, shaking both pilots back and forth.


Engines nominal and holding steady,” Martinez announced, his voice shaky from the rattling they were receiving. “Five minutes to engine cut-off.”

A loud bang suddenly hurled both astronauts forward. If not for their harnesses, they would have slammed into the instruments in front of them. A
‘Main Engines’ light lit up on their display, while simultaneously a female computerized voice resonated throughout the flight deck. “Warning, main engines offline,” it said. “Warning, main engines offline.”

“Damm
it,” Commander Nakamura muttered, and scanned the panel in front of her. “It looks like the fuel gauges are dropping. Manny, turn on the auxiliary pumps.”

Her
copilot quickly reached forward and flipped a switch. “On, Commander.”

Suki Nakamura tried to re
start the main engines. The astronauts felt a brief surge, and then nothing. She tried again. “It’s no good,” she said. “The fuel gauges have dropped to zero.”

Another
red light on the panel turned on with a chime, this one labeled ‘Entry Interface.’

“Warning,” the computerized female voice interrupted. “Entering atmosphere. Incorrect
entry orientation.” Since the ship had been facing backwards to slow down, the computer was  now warning the astronauts that they needed to turn the winged ship forward for landing.

“Manny, use the nose thrusters to turn us around,” Suki ordered.

Martinez quickly flipped the ship into the proper forward nose-up position. As he did so, he looked worriedly out the window at the long slender wings. “Without a full burn, we’re going to be coming in much too hot,” the copilot noted. “I’m not sure the wings can handle it, even with the carbon nanotube construction.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Suki replied
, pointing at the landing count-down clock. “We’re committed now.”

The cabin started shaking again as the ship entered the Martian atmosphere.
“One G. Two G’s,” Martinez read off the instruments. “The wings are heating up. We’re going much too fast and are close to redlining on the leading edges.”

“I’m
instructing the computer to initiate S-turns,” Commander Nakamura calmly stated. “We need to bleed off some of this speed.”

Another bang rattled the flight deck, and the whole ship tilted to the right.
The autopilot indicator turned red as a klaxon alarm sounded, and the computer voice calmly stated, “Autopilot failure; assume manual control.”

“We
just lost the outer tip of the right wing!” Martinez shouted as both pilots listed onto their right sides.

Nakamura
grabbed the controls. “It won’t roll back to the left,” she grunted. “I’m going to roll us right three-sixty.”

The Commander jerked
the control column, performing a high-G barrel roll. As the maneuver neared completion to level the ship, Martinez yelled, “Temperature redlining on the other wing!”

Nakamura
thrust the nose of the ship down to relieve the pressure, but it was too late. The whole ship shook with another bang. “There goes the left wing,” Martinez cried out, and both astronauts watched in horror as the nose pointed straight down and flames engulfed the front windscreen as the ship spun out of control.

Commander Nakamura
frantically tried everything she could think of. She popped open the landing gear, hoping the different configuration would level the ship. The gear tore away in an instant, and the ship continued its plummet.

As the
‘Cabin Temperature’ red light turned on, the astronauts heard “Cabin temperature rising,” from the computerized woman’s voice. “Cooling system alert.”

“Oh, shut up,” were the last words that Nakamura uttered
as the panel in front of her went dark.

Suddenly the cabin stopped shaking
, the windscreen went blank and the cabin lights came on. “Well, you both blew that simulation,” the sim operator came on over the flight deck radio.


That wasn’t a fair sim,” Suki replied. “There was no way to land given that scenario.”

“You got what you deserved,” the operator shot back. “You know it’s impossible to land without a f
ull retro-burn. Martinez forgot the checklist which states that you need to perform a cold start pre-burn of the main engines before going full throttle. Once you forgot to perform that operation, we programmed in a little explosion, which caused a fuel leak, to teach you the consequences of ignoring the checklist. I’m guessing you won’t forget that step from now on!”

“You’re right,” Martinez replied sheepishly. “I guess I was too wrapped up in getting my voice just right
announcing our landing to the passengers.”

“Alright, let’
s reset and do the sim properly this time,” the sim operator stated. “You won’t have us to watch over your every move when you’re at Mars, since communications between us will take half an hour.”


Can’t you do something about that annoying computer voice?” Nakamura lamented. “It’s very distracting, and the warning lights are really enough.”


We’ve already requested that from the manufacturer, but you have to remember that this is a privately designed ship, so you’ll need to deal with it. Now, get ready to practice another Mars entry profile.”

The two astronauts went through the simulation again, this time correctly following the proper checklist procedures. Soon, they had finished, and headed down the hallway together.

“Hurry up, Suki. Doing that extra sim is going to make us late for the going away party if we don’t hustle. This is our last chance to let loose before we launch.”

“I think you really mean it’s your l
ast chance to ‘chase the ladies,’” Suki laughed. “Those colonists we’re going to ferry are pretty straight laced, so you won’t be getting any action after we leave.”

As they reached the parking lot outside, Suki said, “You drive, Manny. I could use a nap before the festivities.”

“Sure Commander, hop in,” the man replied.

A few seconds later, Manny Martinez was speeding across the base, the commander lying back in the passenger seat with her eyes closed. It was just their bad luck that, at that same moment, one of t
he base maintenance men driving a tractor experienced a heart attack. As Manny drove speedily around a curve, he saw the tractor swerve directly into his lane. With lightning quick reflexes, he veered away, but his car was clipped in the rear by the approaching machine, sending them rolling into a ditch. Both Manny and Suki groaned as their car lay upside down.

A worker who was leaving for the day saw the accident
and rushed over. He yanked the passenger door open and looked inside. “Are you alright?” he shouted.

“Ow, my leg,” Suki gasped. “I think it’s broken.” She looked over at her copilot, whose arm was bent at a strange angle. “Damn you, Martinez,” she said. “You’re the only pil
ot I know whose driving is worse than his flying!”

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