Read Online Marooned! by Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER
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sessions in the gym gradually became easier to bear as he built up muscle and endurance. The dreary sameness of the food became more tolerable, and the occasions when fresh, greenhouse-grown vegetables hit the tables were times for celebration. Sean even began to feel at home in the low gravity, no longer reeling and tripping at unexpected moments, but adopting the same kindof loose-limbed walk as the long-time colonists.
But though he still felt like an outsider—Mickey Goldberg in particular was still hounding him about settling on an area of specialization—Sean found that he was indeed fitting in, after a fashion. Like the rest of the colonists, he found himself pausing every evening at 19:35 hours to watch the news transmission from Earth, the narrow-beam cast that gave the colonists a one-hour glimpse of home.
It was seldom good news. More wars, more terrorist attacks, more disease and destruction. Politicians complaining and posturing, but little evidence of anything being done. “I don’t believe it’s that bad,” Alex said one evening after a particularly depressing news program. “I think this must be Earth’s way of making us happy to be away from it all. Keeps us from getting homesick and wanting to go back.”
Sean started to tell him that he doubted the governments of Earth would hold together for even one more year, but he stopped himself. He didn’tknow how to explain his inner certainty, and he didn’t want to try. He just said, “I’ll never go back.”
“You wish,” Mickey Goldberg said from across the common room. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, Doe. You’ve got to pass every course to stay eligible as a colonist, and you’re right on the borderline with a couple. Last week I heard Ellman saying he can’t wait to ship you out when the
Argosy
leaves orbit in a month and a half.”
Sean glowered at him. “I don’t care what Ellman says. Amanda—I mean, Dr. Simak—won’t send me back.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Mickey said with a grin. “She doesn’t have the final word, you know. It’s a committee decision, and Dr. Ellman is on that committee. But I really can see her point about bringing you to Mars. I guess maybe it helps to have a celebrity here. You know something, though? I haven’t seen your name on the newscasts, so you’re not worth much in that department, either.”
“Shut it down, Goldberg,” Alex said. “You’re justflapping your mouth to make a breeze. Hey, you going to take the Bradbury run in two weeks?”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Is Jupiter a planet?”
Sean looked at Alex. “What’s the Bradbury run?”
“Chance to fly, man,” Alex said with a broad smile. “A pilot trainee like me wouldn’t miss it. Hey, why don’t you sign up to come along? There’ll be room. Maybe we can take the same plane.”
“Where do we fly?” Sean asked.
Mickey laughed and leaned forward in his chair, spreading his hands theatrically. “Now, see, that’s what I’m talking about. Didn’t they tell you about the ice meteorites on the trip out?”
Sean responded from memory. “Sure, the ones that hit around the south pole. They come in from Ganymede.”
“The Bradbury Project,” Mickey said. “Know what that is?”
Sean did. “The plan to enrich the atmosphere of Mars with the liquids and gases from the meteors. After ten or twelve more years, the air will be thickenough to create a strong greenhouse effect. The climate all over Mars will warm up. Then all the ice at the south polar region will melt during the southern summer and create liquid water—it won’t just sublime directly to vapor. Eventually well even get rain, maybe rivers and lakes.”
“The boy can be taught,” Mickey said. “Okay, right so far. Now, here’s the news flash that you didn’t get, Doe. The mass driver on Ganymede is like a big gun. It uses magnetic acceleration instead of gunpowder, but it basically shoots huge bullets of ice into space. The bullets loop
But though he still felt like an outsider—Mickey Goldberg in particular was still hounding him about settling on an area of specialization—Sean found that he was indeed fitting in, after a fashion. Like the rest of the colonists, he found himself pausing every evening at 19:35 hours to watch the news transmission from Earth, the narrow-beam cast that gave the colonists a one-hour glimpse of home.
It was seldom good news. More wars, more terrorist attacks, more disease and destruction. Politicians complaining and posturing, but little evidence of anything being done. “I don’t believe it’s that bad,” Alex said one evening after a particularly depressing news program. “I think this must be Earth’s way of making us happy to be away from it all. Keeps us from getting homesick and wanting to go back.”
Sean started to tell him that he doubted the governments of Earth would hold together for even one more year, but he stopped himself. He didn’tknow how to explain his inner certainty, and he didn’t want to try. He just said, “I’ll never go back.”
“You wish,” Mickey Goldberg said from across the common room. “You’ll be out of here before you know it, Doe. You’ve got to pass every course to stay eligible as a colonist, and you’re right on the borderline with a couple. Last week I heard Ellman saying he can’t wait to ship you out when the
Argosy
leaves orbit in a month and a half.”
Sean glowered at him. “I don’t care what Ellman says. Amanda—I mean, Dr. Simak—won’t send me back.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Mickey said with a grin. “She doesn’t have the final word, you know. It’s a committee decision, and Dr. Ellman is on that committee. But I really can see her point about bringing you to Mars. I guess maybe it helps to have a celebrity here. You know something, though? I haven’t seen your name on the newscasts, so you’re not worth much in that department, either.”
“Shut it down, Goldberg,” Alex said. “You’re justflapping your mouth to make a breeze. Hey, you going to take the Bradbury run in two weeks?”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Is Jupiter a planet?”
Sean looked at Alex. “What’s the Bradbury run?”
“Chance to fly, man,” Alex said with a broad smile. “A pilot trainee like me wouldn’t miss it. Hey, why don’t you sign up to come along? There’ll be room. Maybe we can take the same plane.”
“Where do we fly?” Sean asked.
Mickey laughed and leaned forward in his chair, spreading his hands theatrically. “Now, see, that’s what I’m talking about. Didn’t they tell you about the ice meteorites on the trip out?”
Sean responded from memory. “Sure, the ones that hit around the south pole. They come in from Ganymede.”
“The Bradbury Project,” Mickey said. “Know what that is?”
Sean did. “The plan to enrich the atmosphere of Mars with the liquids and gases from the meteors. After ten or twelve more years, the air will be thickenough to create a strong greenhouse effect. The climate all over Mars will warm up. Then all the ice at the south polar region will melt during the southern summer and create liquid water—it won’t just sublime directly to vapor. Eventually well even get rain, maybe rivers and lakes.”
“The boy can be taught,” Mickey said. “Okay, right so far. Now, here’s the news flash that you didn’t get, Doe. The mass driver on Ganymede is like a big gun. It uses magnetic acceleration instead of gunpowder, but it basically shoots huge bullets of ice into space. The bullets loop
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