Clanging
Nov 27, 2022 19:35:50 GMT -5
Post by Radrook Admin on Nov 27, 2022 19:35:50 GMT -5
The Clanging
By Radrook
By Radrook
It was late evening on Mars as Captain Bill Reynolds, and fellow astronaut Angelo Chavez, were congratulating one another for having survived the seven-minutes of terror necessary for deceleration by using the friction of the Martian atmosphere against their heat-shield as a brake.
Those potentially deadly seven minutes had felt like an eternity, as the ship had shaken and shuddered under the burgeoning stress. So the celebration for the successful landing was indeed in order, along with the setting aside of strong interpersonal dislikes. But just as they were beginning to relax and about to drink a victory toast, there was a clanging on the ship's hull, as if caused by hurled rock.
"Did you hear that?" Captain Reynolds, uttered and spilled some of his whiskey in his paper cup as he instinctively jerked away from the unexpected noise.
"Probably some stray pebble kicked up by the ship's landing thrusters as we were touching down bounced off the terrain and hit the hull, sir!" Chavez suggested nonchalantly while combing his thick, wavy, black hair with the brush he had brought on board specifically for personal grooming purposes. He smiled broadly to make sure that Reynolds was convinced of his equanimity as opposed Reynald's nervous response despite being the captain.
“A ricocheting rock a full minute after the touchdown?” Reynolds said, while eyeing Chavez suspiciously.
"Well, cap, low Martian gravity might have caused a delayed reaction of sorts. True, it's highly improbable. But the improbable has a tendency to happen now and then-you know? "
"Really?" Reynolds turned a beat red. He always did in response to Chavez’s antics. The naked truth was that he didn't like Chavez's constant characteristic joking responses to things that were hard to explain. After all, he had been trained for the mission and educated enough to be on board and was expected to live up to that education.
"So that's all you have to say about it Chavez? Nothing more?" Reynolds insisted, keeping his green eyes intently fixed on his comrade.
"What else is there to say?" Chavez responded while leaning back casually in his seat.
This back and forth banter on the verge of a heated argument, was was nothing new between them. They had taken a strong dislike to each other as soon as they had met. They had carefully avoided talking to one another for most of the trip, each keeping to his own little private niche while striving vehemently to create the illusion that the other was not really present.
So during the entire six-month journey, their communication had mostly been formal and monosyllabic. Of course, now after the landing, they were going through the motions of friendship in order for the momentous event to be recorded for posterity. But it was a bitter pill that both were reluctantly swallowing for their job's sake job and to make the mission a success.
"Now as a man of science, that is a very strange attitude. You do realize that now, at the very least, don't you Chavez?" Reynolds uttered after carefully setting down his drink.
"It is what it is, cap." Chavez responded with hands folded behind his neck and a broad smile, which he knew that Reynolds detested, on his broad Mestizo face.
"Really Chavez?" Reynolds responded while holding back the almost irresistible urge to render Chavez unconscious, unceremoniously toll him in the airlock, and jettison his body.
"Yeah really cap, sir!"
Of course, Chavez knew that his broad smile and calm, uncaring response was getting on the Reynaldo's nerves, but he deserved it. After all, hadn’t he been the bastard who had fiercely objected to his admission to the Space Academy simply because he was Latino? The one who had given him hell during classes by constantly making ethnic jokes? The clown who had turned the other cadets against him by ostracizing his cultural heritage at every opportunity? Chavez could still remember the bitterness in the Reynolds's face upon learning that he was to be accompanied to Mars by a Mestizo Latino .
How he had turned beet-red, and had even attempted to bribe those responsible to reconsider and assign someone else to accompany him on the mission. Only when he found it to be impossible did he finally relent and philosophically accepted what he obviously considered a great humiliation and a very bitter pill to swallow.
"It is what it is?" Reynolds responded, "Well, I guess in a sense you are right, Chavez," Reynolds continued matter-of-factly, and in a voice that conveyed a barely-restrained murderous rage.
"You see, and as I am sure you strongly suspect, I did file a formal protest in which I begged Houston not to team me up with you, and yet, here I am. What better example of having to put up with unpleasant inevitability can there be? Huh?"
"I'll drink a toast to that compadre!" Chavez lifted up the paper cup in a toasting gesture, and including a Spanish word because he knew it would infuriate the captain. At that moment, another clang on the hull resonated, but much harder and louder, causing both to come to their feet and gaze about nervously.
"Now that one was a real humdinger. Right cap? I mean how high would you rate that on the decibel level? It’s definitely a ten, if you ask me! Eh carnal?" Chavez uttered calmly followed by an obvious hatred-hiding grin.
"Stop with the clowning around Chavez!" Reynold’s shouted as he went over to the ship's viewing screen and began frantically scanning the surrounding Martian terrain. Then, after a few moments of silence, he turned to Chavez:
“Wind-velocity-indicators only show a slight 3mph breeze incapable of hurling such a large rock at the ship at the velocity needed to produce that resonant sound. A meteor? No way! A meteorite would have punctured the hull. So the damn only way we are going to get to the bottom of this is by going out there!”
Chavez stared at him incredulously. He had always suspected that Reynolds was a bit flaky, but this was absurd.
“Are you insane? Are you looking to get brained?” he finally said, more out of a sense of duty than out of care. “It’s going to be pitch- dark out there in a few minutes. Anything able to hurl that rock so hard is dangerous”
“Well, you can stay safely inside if you like Chavez, but I’m going out there whether you like it or not! But not without my flamethrower!” he added gesturing toward the supply section with a confident smirk
“What? Flamethrower?" Chavez responded staring at him mouth agape and wide-eyed.
"You smuggled flamethrower on-board? How did you get it past security? Better yet, what the hell is it for?” For a fraction of an instant, it had occurred to Chavez that the flamethrower had been intended for him.
“What for? What for you ask?" "Clang Clang!" the hull resounded as if to add emphasis to what Reynolds’ was saying. "That's what for! Because you never know, do you Chavez? You never know whom, you are dealing with, and whomever you are dealing with, can turn out to be a real SOB-can't he? That’s why! So get the hell out of my way!”
The captain pushed Chavez aside and retrieved the M9 portable-backpack American-made flamethrower capable of easily reaching the effective range of 60 meters (200 feet). He had secretly stashed it away among the official equipment, and was now standing poised with this calm, determined look on his ruddy face, as if he were about to go out for a casual stroll or to just mow the lawn.
Then, turning suddenly to Chavez, he said:
"Look at it from the bright side, Chavez, if there is something dangerous out there and it kills me, you'll have the entire ship to yourself until the next return-to-Earth launch-window happens in two Earth years. True, I'll be dead, I won’t have to put up with you either. But if whatever's throwing rocks is stupid enough to attack, and I injure or kill it, maybe they'll think it over twice before hurling rocks at the ship again, and will keep their damned distance. Either way, we both come out winning. So help me get into the decompression chamber and get this over with.”
Of course, the captain was right, both of them would be better off alone on Mars than having to tolerate each other for two years, yet, despite their differences, Chavez thought, they were both from Earth, humans, and whatever was out there throwing rocks, was obviously not.
"I’ll go with you captain!" Chavez finally said, while avoiding the captain’s astonished and scrutinizing gaze.
"Just let me get my excavation drill in case of any close encounters. “
"Excavation drill? How the hell did YOU get a heavy excavation drill past security?" the captain said looking at Chavez with the suspicion, and thinking that Chavez had brought it along to use on him. Reviving no immediate answer as Chávez silently and frantically rummaged, Reynolds decided to ignore the matter and deal with it later. After all, he had his flamethrower to explain, and Chavez wasn't pressing the issue.
"Ah, to hell with it. Lets go!" Reynolds finally said in a tone of tired resignation as Chavez ignored the snide remark and finally found the drill.
After quickly donning their spacesuits, while the force and the frequency of the clanging increased, both hurriedly proceeded to the decompression chamber and braced themselves as the outer sliding door slid open. There was the characteristic swooshing of air as the pumps drained the chamber creating and atmospheric pressure equal to the one outside. Then the door to the exterior slid open.
But at that moment, the ground beneath the ship gave way, the ship lurched sideways, and the captain accidentally incinerated Cuevas and Cuevas accidentally drilled the captain through the forehead with the excavation drill as he raised his arms to protect himself from the flames.
After the grotesque spasmodic twitching's, both lay dead in the decompression chamber and a deep silence ensued. Then, suddenly, another clang resounded off the ship's hull as the landing site's adjacent unstable ground again gave way shattering the brittle sub-surface stratified rock and spraying fragments once again against ship's hull causing several loud clangs. Of course, these sounds were now only heard by the small humanoid Martians who were gazing up curiously at the ship from their nearby underground dwellings, and wondering why the Earthians had suddenly attacked each other in such a gruesome way.
Several types of mission plans have been proposed, including opposition class and conjunction class,[5] or the Crocco flyby.[7] The lowest energy transfer to Mars is a Hohmann transfer orbit, which would involve a roughly 9-month travel time from Earth to Mars, about 500 days (16 mo) at Mars to wait for the transfer window to Earth, and a travel time of about 9 months to return to Earth.[8][9] This would be a 34-month trip.