The Attempt (The Martian Manifesto Book 1) (16 page)

The few short days after the astronauts on Mars had received their instructions from Earth, each of them
was struggling with his own issues. Sergey was at his work bench downstairs, building some bizarre mechanism. Brad was also downstairs, and still trying to rock the rover to free it from the pit that it had fallen into. And Charles was upstairs and arguing with Grant once more, pressing the case for trying to capture any future creature they might find instead of destroying it.

“Look,” Charles said. “The AB Cycler has webbing over one whole side. How about we have the group on its way here cut some pieces of it? We can use it as a net to capture anything we find. I’m sure there’s room in the supply rocket.”

“I told you that Mission Control does not want us communicating directly with them,” Grant stated emphatically. “Their situation is delicate. Apparently they are worried about what might happen if the colonists discover what is going on.”

“I’m tired of this secrecy,” Charles reiterated. “The world should know. They should know that we’re trying to destroy exactly what we came looking for.”

“You heard the transmission; the orders are directly from the President.”

“He’s not here, and we are. Since we’re stuck on Mars for the duration, I think
it’s time we started thinking for ourselves. We should think as Martians instead of as Earthmen,” the biologist insisted.

“You were outvoted, Chuck, so it’s time to let it go. You have my word that violence is going to be our last resort,” he assured him. “Tell you what; I’ll go to bat for you one more time. If you can create some carefully worded message for the astronauts on the cycler that won’t tip off the others, I’ll try to get it approved.”

“All right, Grant. I’ll give it a shot,” Charles said with a sigh.

“
Good. You go work on that, while I go check on Serge’s progress. He came to me all excited this morning and said I had to see what he was working on.”

Charles went to his room as Grant turned and descended the ladder. As the biologist entered his room, wondering what excuse he could give for wanting netting, he noticed that his computer had received a personal video message. He sat down in his chair, and pressed the screen to initiate the message.

“I should have known,” the image of his fiancée Terri said, visibly angry. “I received your message, Mister Biologist Winston, and I was not pleased at all. How could you say that you’re not coming back for an additional three years? Don’t you realize what that does to my plans? Are you crazy suggesting that we have a video wedding!? It would be bad enough if it was live, but with the delay you would have to record everything ahead of time. I am emphatically NOT going to go through all this trouble for a stupid recorded image on a screen!” He saw Terri get up and wag her finger at him. “My mother was right! ‘Never marry an astronaut,’ she said. ‘They’re never around when you need them.’ How right she was. You only care about your stupid adventure. I’m through with you. The engagement is off. Goodbye!” The screen went blank.

Charles went back to his bunk and lay down, totally depressed. Nothing seemed to be going right for him. He had no interest right now in composing a message to Mission Control about ideas for working with the AB Cycler astronauts. “Maybe tomorrow,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

# # #

Grant walked up behind Sergey and looked over his shoulder at what he was working on. On the desk he could see a weapon designed for a science fiction movie. “Well, so you wanted to show me a Buck Rogers ray gun?” he asked. “Has it really come to this?”

Sergey looked back over his shoulder at the Commander. “
Nyet, not Buck Rogers,” he said. “James Bond!”

“Really? Alright, I’ll bite. What does it do?”

“It is my recreation of the Gyrojet Rocket Pistol from the 1960s.”

Grant laughed out loud. “Of course, I should have guessed. Something that outlandish deserves a wild name like that. Tell me about it.”

“The bazooka and rockets idea from Mission Control got me to thinking, as you Americans say. My grandfather was an avid gun collector. His prize possession was a 1985 Russian SVD Dragunov sniper rifle with infrared detection and auto-ranging reticle, but he had many other rare guns. He had a Russian Berdan II from the 1880s, a Burnside American Civil War carbine, and even a German Elephant Gun from the year 1844. We do not have the ability to create any of these, although an elephant gun might be very handy if we ran into a large creature. But I still remember one in his collection that really caught my eye. It was the Gyrojet Rocket Pistol. My grandfather told me that it was actually tried unsuccessfully in your American Vietnam War and was featured in the James Bond movie,
You Only Live Twice
. It requires no gunpowder, is simple to make and works on the rocket principle.”

The Commander looked at the device on the table. It looked like a very large pistol. The barrel was a
cheap looking tube with large holes perforating it like Swiss cheese. There was a large lever sticking out in front of the handle, above the trigger. There were a few solid looking bullets lying next to the device. “So how does it work?” he asked.

Sergey picked up one of the bullets. There were three vents in the back, surrounding the percussion device. “These vents are the exhaust for the propellant
,” he said, showing the Commander. “The bullet is really a small rocket, and the vents are angled slightly so that they impart a spin to the bullet. This is where the Gyrojet name is derived. Here, look closely,” he said, handing one of the bullets to the Commander.

“Wow, look at that,” Grant said.
It looked similar to the back of a bullet, with the percussion dot in the center, but it was surrounded by three slits for the exhaust to exit the projectile.

“There are many advantages to such a device. First, there are no springs in the firing mechanism and it is very simple to build. You cock this lever, and when you pull the trigger the lever flips up and back, pushing the bullet into the firing pin. The rocket bullet ignites and starts forward. There is no recoil as you would have in a regular gun. The barrel needs no reinforcement. As the bullet goes forward, it pushes the firing lever ahead and down, so
that it is automatically cocked for the next shot. There is also no casing that needs to be ejected. The whole bullet travels out of the gun.”

“So what are the disadvantages? Why was it unsuccessful?” Grant asked.

“Well, it takes about twenty meters for the Gyrojet bullet to achieve full speed, since it is a mini-rocket. If the object is too close, the bullet would probably just bounce off of it. I heard that in the dense jungles of Vietnam, there was no room to build up speed and there were reports that even thick leaves a few feet away would stop the bullet. There were also manufacturing problems with making the vents precisely, so the bullets were wildly inaccurate.”

“And you expect us to use this with
all of those disadvantages?” Grant asked incredulously.

“Da, it will wor
k much better for us. I have created the printing models, and our manufacturing is much more precise with our 3D printer than they had seventy years ago. The bullets will fly true in this thin air. And there are no obstructions here on Mars. As long as you shoot at something over twenty meters distant, this will be as effective as any modern rifle. This is very light and reliable with only a few moving parts. We do not have to worry about dust clogging the mechanism, which would be a big problem for any normal rifle here on this planet.”

“But will it actually work? It just seems too outlandish!” Grant said skeptically.

“I tried it earlier today outside. Do not worry,” he said, noticing the look that he received from Grant. “I followed your orders not to go out alone. I went with Brad.”

Brad joined in from where he was at the rover control panel. “That’s right, Commander. I saw it for myself. That crazy thing actually works. He put holes in a bun
ch of the rocks out there.”

“Can you make enough for each of us?” asked Grant, who was becoming convinced.

“Da, da, it is very simple mechanism. And the bullets are very safe. We do not have to worry about making bulky rockets that could explode.”

“Serge, you’re a genius. Make
enough of them so that we have backups. I want this to be a priority.”

“
Excellent. I will start immediately,” Sergey said, satisfied at the praise he had received. “I should have enough by the end of the week for us to start training with them.”

One month later …

“Joon-bee!
Mog-pyo! Hwa-jai!” A volley of fire erupted, sending bullets flying across the Moon’s surface.

“Hwa-jai, Hwa-jai,” Another two volleys spewed their destruction at the targets. At
least a few projectiles hit.

“Good. Now have them reform,
Li Xiansheng,” commanded NCO Wong.

“Position two, on my command
,” Li Julong said reluctantly. “Execute.” He could not believe that he had been railroaded into becoming the second in command of the military drills. The general had gone back on his promise. Every fiber of the scientist rebelled at commanding men to shoot firearms, but he had no choice if he was to avoid punishment.

The third row of thre
e Koreans rushed to reform. Those three, who had had their backs braced against the second row to negate the recoil of their rifles, turned around to face forward. The middle row of four Koreans who were standing now knelt, leaning their backs against the legs of their comrades. The front row of three Koreans who had been kneeling stood and scurried to become the third row in the rear. They leaned their backs against the second row. Their function was to brace the formation while covering any threats from the rear. The two front rows were now ready to commence their bombardment.”

“Joon-bee! Mog-pyo! Hwa-jai!”
the NCO barked, giving the ‘Ready, Aim, Fire’ command in Korean once more. Another fusillade of bullets spewed towards the targets. As before, with such a mass of projectiles, at least a few found their nearby objective.

“Now, h
ave them move to the next enemy,” Sgt. Wong told Julong through their helmet radios.

“
Dragon formation, form up,” said the chief scientist. The Koreans who were kneeling stood, and the ones in the back faced forward. They all took their guns and slid them into bags and closed them up to protect them against the invasive Moon dust. This only took a moment, and Julong yelled, trying to be a bit more convincing this time, “To the next location!”

The three row formation scurried towards the next set of targets.
They did not require any ‘hup, two, three, four,’ or ‘left, right, left’ chants. Their formation running and Taekwondo martial arts forms practice of the last month had allowed them to perfect moving as one. The Koreans all hopped from their left foot to their right in sync, looking in their spacesuits like a group of demonic Pillsbury Dough Boys in motion. The chief scientist brought up the rear, carrying the spare rifles, which were also contained in bags and tied in a giant cluster on his back.
“And they also made me a glorified pack mule,”
Julong thought in disgust. As the formation reached a position close to their next target, he said, “Halt. Assume position three.” The scientist was huffing and puffing, but after a month of this he at least was no longer on the verge of collapse. He pulled the quick release tab and the bagged spare rifles slid to the ground.

The three rows of Koreans unpacked their rifles and the kneeling and standing rows prepared to fire. As soon as they were ready,
Sgt. Wong, who had followed the group, gave them the ‘Ready, Aim, Fire,’ command in Korean once more.

“I’m jammed,” one of the women called to him on the radio as the others fired. Julong tapped one of the men in the third row, and
he switched places with the woman. Julong unpacked a spare rifle and handed it to her. He loathed even touching the things, but he had no choice. As the woman checked the rifle and readied herself to be put back into action, the front two rows continued firing.

“Attention!
” ordered Sgt. Wong as he started to walk around the group. The Koreans all stopped shooting, the front row stood, the back row faced forward, and the ten men and women put their guns on their shoulders. They were careful to place the safeties on, not wishing to shoot a bullet in the air that might come down upon their comrades.

“Excellent work. I believe we are as ready as we could be
,” said the sergeant. “This is the last practice, as we leave for Mars today. Are there any final questions?”

“Sir, we have watched you practice out here alone,” one of the men asked. “Why do you never
shoot with us? And why do you have Lao Li give some of the commands?” the fellow said, using the words for ‘Old Li’ in reference to the scientist.

“You m
ust be self-sufficient, as you are the main strike force. There may be times when I am not with you. Since I am the only true shot among us who can hit a target with consistency, I may place myself in another location to better affect the outcome of a battle. A dictum of Sun Tzu in his
Art of War
states ‘the general who is skilled in defense hides in the most secret recesses of the earth.’ We must be smarter than our enemy in any upcoming fight and possibly lay traps for them. I may need to position myself away from you, hidden and unseen, in order to stop an enemy as he is focused upon you. Remember, be brave and stand your ground. I will be with you at all times, even if you cannot see me.”

Li Julong blanched at the thought that he
might be left alone with this group of men and women, ordering them to fire upon others.
“Perhaps I could do it, if it was for self-preservation,”
he thought
. “But I am not sure, even then.”

The general looked at the group in front of him. “Are there any other questions?” When there were none he said, “Go and prepare yourselves. We leave for Mars in one hour.”

# # #

“Pew!
Pew-pew!” Brad yelled, exhilarated.

Pffft
, pffft-pffft,
hissed the Gyrojet bullets as they emerged from his rocket pistol and flew across the Martian surface. One impacted on the dirt in front of the rock, another chipped the upper right corner and the last flew wildly, missing completely. The image he had sketched on the Martian boulder would have been instantly recognizable to anyone on Earth. The bulbous eyes and exposed brain enclosed in a glass bubble helmet sat there, unmarred by any impacts.

Sergey, who was hiding behind a rock nearby, stepped out and also fired at the target.
He pressed the trigger and the lever above it pushed the bullet back into the firing pin, igniting the fuel inside the bullet. A small
Pffft
sound erupted, and a tiny bit of smoke emerged from the myriad holes in the barrel as the bullet accelerated away. Sergey felt no distracting recoil and carefully watched the bullet’s thin curlicue trail of smoke. The bullet chipped the lower left corner of the rock, leaving the untouched alien head still leering at him.

Annoyed that the Gyrojet bullets were
still not as accurate as he had hoped, he said to Brad over the radio, “What is that ‘pew’ sound you keep uttering?”

“C’mon Serge. Everyone knows that’s what ray guns of the future sound like. You really should have put a tiny speaker in
these things to make that, you know. Pew!” he yelled again as he released another shot at the alien’s visage, hitting the bottom of the boulder. “Darn, the future isn’t as good as I imagined,” he chuckled.

Grant looked over at Charles, who was just standing there with his arm down and the rocket pistol pointing at the ground. “Chuck, you haven’t fired yet. You need to practice.”

“This is stupid,” Charles said. “I am not going to be shooting at rocks, aliens, people or anything else. What about your ‘we come in peace for all mankind’ bit you spouted when we landed? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“The situation has changed beyond any scenario we could have imagined, Chuck. Now I order you to fire.”

“Fine,” Charles said. Since he was standing sideways to the target, he just lifted his arm out to the right, kept looking ahead at the Commander in front of him, and fired without even a glance at the boulder.

Pffft.
The bullet flew straight and true, hitting the alien mockup right between the eyes.

“Hurray!” Brad and Sergey both yelled with their arms in the air, hopping up and down like demented cheerleaders.

“Great, that’s just great!’ Charles said in disgust. He threw the pistol down onto the Martian surface. “That’s it, I’m done. I most emphatically am not participating in this nonsense any more,” he yelled and stomped his way back to the habitat.

Grant watched Charles
’ back retreating and murmured, “I guess he just needs to let off some steam after being dumped by his fiancée. The wound is still fresh; he’ll come around eventually.” He then turned to the other two astronauts. “Move closer to the boulder. Let’s see if either of you two bozos can hit the target then. Keep practicing until you find the optimum distance.”

# # #

General Zhou DeSheng watched as the rocket ascended from the crater floor, sending Sergeant Wong, Chief Scientist Li Julong and the ten Koreans on their way to Mars with their supplies and weapons. After the small dot of the rocket had disappeared into the distance, he turned back to his desk and initiated a video call to Earth. The current head of the ruling committee appeared on his screen. “The journey to Mars has successfully commenced,” he reported to his superior. “Everything is proceeding according to schedule.”

“Excellent,” the committee head answered. “However, the international tensions over our occupation of Southeast Asia have become worse. No doubt the launch of our Mars ship will be detected by the American
s’ telescopes and they will ratchet up the pressure, probably calling for increased sanctions. We have devised a method to deflect their interference. We have taken the video of the alien attack on Mars that our spies at NASA uncovered, and we have anonymously sent it to the man who first revealed the small frog-like creature in the NASA images.”

“Is that wise, to release them to
some civilian that we have no control over?” asked the general.

“
Yes. Based on his past actions, he will reveal them immediately to the media. The resulting furor over NASA’s duplicity in keeping this knowledge hidden will be unprecedented. Since no one will know that we were behind the leak, we will announce that we have launched a mission to contain any alien threat, and that all knowledge will be openly shared with the world, unlike the Americans.”

“But we will not, will we?” chuckled the general.

“Most assuredly not. You must ensure that, at every encrypted communication with Sgt. Wong, you stress that this is to capture all alien artifacts for ourselves, and that under no circumstances will the mission help the Americans. They should be considered the enemy, and eliminating them completely if needed is acceptable.”

“Excell
ent. I will send a reminder at every opportunity.  China will reign supreme.”

“Good. Do not be alarmed when the news of the aliens is released on Earth. It is all according to plan. Keep up your defenses in case you are attacked.”

“Yes, sir, absolutely,” the general said, and the screen went black as the committee head signed off. The general then muttered, “The accursed Americans will never get this technology. Sergeant Wong was briefed that he is to prevent that at all costs and knows where his allegiance lies.”