The Homestead Page 3

  Chief Shane Jacobs was not a man accustomed to being second-guessed and it showed. “Certainly not. I can’t have ICE personnel being undermined in that way. You asked to come here to see me under medical pretenses. If you would like that freedom in the future please don’t abuse that privilege.” His eyebrows were growing higher on his forehead the more he spoke.

  Moses was hoping for this response. “But the medical pretenses were real, sir. I was worried that something could be effecting the other residents of Homestead IV. The same thing that happened to Dr. Epps could happen to someone else.”

  “That was half a year ago, doctor. I have been assured that there is nothing contagious concerning the death of our previous doctor. It’s a good thing I was able to settle this for you. Now you will have the time you need to see all those waiting patients.” With that, Chief Jacobs opened a hidden door-sized panel behind the screens on the wall beside his desk and began to work inside of the multi-screened control room hidden within, never even bothering to dismiss Moses. The meeting was over.

  “Thank you for your time, sir,” Moses said as he removed himself from the office.

  No one looked up as he traveled through the central room and to the door on the far side. Aarav smiled with a childish “told you so” look on his face as Moses passed through the outer office and entered the elevator

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Moses’ next stop was only a few floors down. This entryway was a dramatic contrast to the one above. The floor was carpeted, the wall of offices directly ahead was a deep brown that was periodically interrupted by tall tables holding vases of flowers. Instead of being walled in on all sides like the entrance to the ICE offices, this area had railings on either side. They permitted a view of the entire expanse of the habitat below, descending into the crust of Mars in a widening pyramid.

  It was an impressive view. Below him was an expansive pyramid, burrowing deeper and deeper into the planet’s crust. There was a central open area that allowed a complete view of the habitat, an empty rectangle of air plunging dramatically through all eighty-six levels of Homestead IV starting with the first civilian level where he stood now. Each floor had work spaces and living quarters pushed against the inside wall of the pyramid, with a red railing along the open area down the center. Moses looked directly across from him and was able to clearly see the offices on this floor, maybe fifteen meters away from where he stood now. The distance across the chasm gradually increased as the pyramid spread deeper until it reached its peak on the lowest civilian level at the eighty-sixth floor. The gap was broken up by a walkway connecting the sides of the pyramid every five levels, sometimes going from corner to corner, sometimes connecting parallel sides. Toward the bottom the walkways spanned both sides meeting in the center to form an “X”. Periodically, an part of the level hung over the edge into the central open column where a farm grew crops that needed direct sunlight from the upper window. That window, made of hardened glass and plastic, burst through the surface of mars and extended thirty meters into the atmosphere. The engineered window captured and amplified the sunlight that was then redirected into the habitat and used for crops, vitamin D, and helping the inhabitants regulate their sleep cycle. Mirrors were used to send a little bit of sunlight to each level even down to the bottom levels.

  The last platform was directly above another window, and below that was a sea of green. A literal sea stretched out underneath the glass, water occasionally splashing onto the bottom of the clear surface. The levels below the glass floor of the pyramid contained water purification, CO2 scrubbers, and the mycophycology lab - the lab that maintained and groomed the genetically modified cyanobacteria that was the center of terraforming within Homestead IV. This is where the habitat really proved its worth to the investors, funneling greenhouse gasses up to the surface of the planet and changing the atmosphere slowly over the decades. These processes also helped to make life sustainable within the pyramid of Homestead IV.

  There were facilities spread across the surface or below the surface of the planet. ICE Stations were filled with company personnel only, and ran much more efficiently if the ICE higher-ups were to be believed. The Homesteads were filled with a civilian crew and overseen by ICE staff. These were introduced when specialists in various fields were needed to make Mars a breathable home. ICE had difficulty recruiting employees who were skilled in select special fields, so they introduced homesteading, which granted multi-generational financial benefits and first colonization rights to anyone willing to help them achieve their goal. The screening process was intense, and only allowed the most skilled and hardy of applicants into the workforce. There was always tension between the civilian and the ICE personnel, which revealed a fundamental difference in training and motivation between the two groups. The volunteers that chose to join ICE before being assigned to the red planet were company men and women, devoted and unquestioning. The civilians had signed up to do a specific job, and were expecting a reward for the time and efforts.

  Each ICE Station and Homestead on Mars had a different focus, all aimed at terraforming the planet to allow sustained life on the surface. There were habitats dedicated to giving life back to Mars’ volcanoes - these had been embarrassingly unsuccessful for a very long time. There were stations that filled the atmosphere with greenhouse gasses. There was one entire station dedicated to extracting rocket fuel from the Martian soil to ease the financial burden of resupplying the habitats from Earth until they became more self-sufficient. Homestead IV was growing and grooming cyanobacter-delta, a Mars-made algal life form that modified the atmosphere as well as extracting toxins out of the wastewater generated within the habitat to purify it for the people living and working inside.

  Moses knew he would not be wasting time like this if he wasn’t so nervous about the next meeting. It was time to get it over with. He better hurry or the president could be gone before he got there.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  President Philip Chen welcomed Moses into his large office. There had been no guardian protecting the shorter Japanese man from visitors. Just an open door on a short hallway. This office was warm and inviting, with colorful pictures on every wall. Seascapes and landscapes that told of an appreciation for the outdoors of their mutual home planet, regardless of country of origin. Chen smiled at Moses with a genuine friendliness as he took his place behind his large wooden desk.

  “Is it time for my mandatory physical evaluation already, doctor? Or are you here on a social call?”

  Moses returned the smile and answered, “Neither, really. I had a question about Dr. Epps.” He had learned from his meeting with the Chief that the direct approach might not be the best. It might work better to attack from a different angle this time.

  “Go ahead,” said Chen, continuing to smile but unable to hide the curiosity from his face as well.

  “I was wondering if there were ever any complaints about his work here. Anything someone might have taken offense with.”

  The president let the smile remain on his face, but it was no longer genuine.

  “That is a strange request. Most complaints are not kept on the record for our residents. We like to handle them directly and then let the matter go. It would have to be a repeated problem to be on record. May I ask why you want to know?”

  Moses gave a polite laugh to set him at ease. “I was just hoping to improve my own performance here. I don’t want to repeat any mistakes that my predecessor made. You understand, of course. I want to be the best I can be for the people of Homestead IV.” None of that was true, but it was hopefully enough to convince President Chen of his motives behind wanting the information. The president, like every other inhabitant that was forced to sign the Homestead Agreement, was responsible for being productive. His assessment was based on the combined assessments of all of the civilian residents. The higher the scores of his people, the better his scores looked as well. Even though the position of facility doctor was essential, if Mo
ses performed poorly then people couldn’t work as effectively. If people couldn’t work effectively, their performances dropped.

  He could see all of this playing out in Chen’s mind. His play for information just might work.

  “I see,” Chen nodded agreement. “I applaud your efforts to be as good as you can be. That is just the type of people we want around here. I don’t believe Dr. Epps was ever disciplined formally. Most people loved him. There were one or two instances of individuals coming to me to complain, but you can’t please everyone!” He laughed a the absurdity of the idea. “He who tries is a fool, and will only grow frustrated. I hope that isn’t a trap you fall into around here.”

  Moses could see this line of thought leading in the wrong direction. He had to steer this man back on the right track.

  “Oh, you’re definitely right there. I know I can’t please everyone. But even small complaints could help me figure out how to work with the more . . . difficult people here. They are everywhere. If I knew who they were that would give me an edge before I got on their bad side.”

  Chen smiled knowingly. Surely, he understood difficult people. “The only person who complained regularly was Harold Petersen. He was never able to get over the loss of his wife. I think he blamed William. From the time Adrie died he never quit filing complaints. We never logged them because we knew they were invalid.”

  “I thought that Dr. Epps was the only person to die here.” Moses was intrigued.

  “She fell ill and was sent back to Earth. But she never finished the trip. She died on the way.” President Chen’s face was sad and full of grief.

  “How long was it between her passing and Dr. Epps’?”

  “It was at least one year, but less than two. Somewhere in between. I can look it up if you would like.” Chen made as if to get up and go look for the information, but waited for Moses to stop him.

  He obliged. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. President. Thank you though. One more thing. Do you remember any of the specifics of Mrs. Petersen’s illness?”

  “Yes. That I remember very well. She had trouble with the artificial atmosphere that we breathe here. Something about underlying respiratory illness that went undetected in the screenings on earth. She died of complications with her breathing. Dr. Epps had tried to use some of the algal cyanobacteria here to help her develop a tolerance for it, but I think it just made her worse. I don’t really understand all of that. Do you know what I’m talking about? Because I sure don’t.” Chen was back to friendly laughter at his lack of knowledge.

  Moses did understand. The atmosphere within all of the habitats on Mars was treated with air-born antibacterial gasses that helped keep the population healthy. Those gasses were developed from the same bacteria growing at the bottom of Homestead IV. Some people would have a reaction to those gasses, but they should have all been weeded out in the screening process. Epps was apparently using the algae-cyanobacteria hybrid to develop an immunization agent to use in treating Adrie Petersen. It was genius. Complicated, but genius. With no real pharmacist on Mars, the doctors were expected to be able to improvise, but this was impressive. Your typical doctor would not venture into gene modification of hybrid samples to treat a problem. That was advanced even with specialized training.

  “I’ve got it, thank you. That is very helpful.” He was pushing against the edges of what Chen would be willing share with him based on his rationale for asking. Moses decided to cut his losses and head for the door. He had been able to get some of his questions answered with Philip Chen, which was more than he could say about Chief Shane Jacobs.

  He excused himself and the president graciously walked him out of the office. As he stood there on the platform again, he went back to the railing and looked at the expanse of the habitat below him as he considered his next steps. There were some potential avenues of inquiry developing. He had a hunch that solving the riddle of Adrie Petersen would lead him to the right question to ask about the death of William Epps. Somehow both had died of undetected pre-existing abnormalities. Rather than risk the wrath of an angry widower, Moses decided to head down a few levels. He laughed to himself. This would help him get to the bottom of things.

  He better bring some back-up. This was an unexplored place - at least for him.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Rebecca looked at Moses with incredulity, one eyebrow raised and mouth agape. “You want to go down there? I don’t think that’s on the tour, Moses. I’ve only been down there one time. It’s kind of gross.”

  Moses kept smiling, amused at her shock. “You said you wanted me to see the entire facility. How could we neglect the whole purpose of Homestead IV? I want to meet the little guys that keep this place running. Besides, what could go wrong?”

  She glared back at him, not liking her own words used against her. He could tell this was going to be fun. For him, at least.

  “Fine,” she said. “It will take me some time to arrange it with the mycophycologists and with ICE administration. A visit to the algae farm requires approval from Chief Jacobs. Why do you really want to go down there, anyway?”

  Moses had not considered if he should tell Rebecca about his investigation yet. Confronted with the idea, he finally decided that he should. She would have to find out eventually. This way, at least she could help him when he needed it, and could use her status as an ICE employee to get him into places he couldn’t go.

  “I think it may help me answer some questions about Epps’ death. I think the circumstances of his passing are questionable, and I would like to get some concrete answers. In order to get those answers, we need to understand what he did down in those labs. At the very least, it will confirm what you’ve already been told and will allow you to get back to your life without worrying about it. You know, to grieve fully and begin to heal from the loss of your friend.”

  She looked back at him silently out of the corner of her eye. “You make it sound like I’m a computer, and have to get through some programmed response.” She looked away, and he could tell she was trying to decide how to handle the situation. “Let’s go,” she said.

  Chapter 3

  After Rebecca swiped her access card, the elevator doors opened onto the under-levels of Homestead IV. Moses expected to find a large scientific research area with different sections designated for different types of algae-bacteria hybrid samples. He anticipated the stark, sanitized hallways that were a contrast to the inhabited levels. He was even ready for the fluorescent lights along the ceiling - another contrast to the natural lighting in the upper levels that harnessed the sunlight reaching Mars and amplified it through a series of mirrors and lenses. But he wasn’t ready for the smell.

  The odor of the algae penetrated the deepest levels of his awareness. It was inescapable. He tried breathing through his mouth. He tried holding his nose shut. No matter what he did, he could still smell the foulness that supported the operation of this habitat. He had smelled similar things during medical school while dissecting cadavers, but even then the smell hadn’t saturated the air so completely. This filled his sinuses and hung densely in the air. It made it difficult to think.

  His eyes filled with protective tears, shielding his vulnerable sclera from the acrid fumes. Breathing through his nose became difficult as his sinuses joined in the protective excretion, effectively blocking themselves off from the air attempting to penetrate into his respiratory system. Now mouth-breathing, Moses looked at Rebecca.

  Rebecca smiled at him, clearly satisfied that he had suffered for making her come here. She sniffed loudly and wiped the tears from her own eyes. Then she handed him a cream to rub under his nose. Not quite eucalyptus, Moses didn’t know what the new smell was, but he was grateful for it. He managed to inhale to recover his breath and was again able to speak. His eyes still burned, and it remained unpleasant just to be in the area, but at least he could survive.

  “Wow,” he said without enthusiasm. He could hear a definite nasal quality to his voice
that wasn’t normally there. “That is terrible. And people work down here?”

  “They say you get used to it. I don’t want to be down here long enough to find out.” She started down the hallway toward a series of closed doors, sniffing deeply to clear her own airway. Moses followed. “We need to track down Dr. Idleman. Stephanie has been in charge down here since Homestead IV was constructed. They even consulted with her for the design. She should be able to answer any questions we have.” This was exactly why Moses needed Rebecca along. There were just too many things he didn’t know or understand.

  After three labs with no Dr. Idleman and two sets of angry looks for the interruption, they found her. The room was nearly pitch black with blue lights set into the walls. The woman in question was wearing a biohazard suit. This made Moses worry a little about his lack of a suit. When Moses asked about the suit and if he should have one, he was met with laughter.

  “Oh no,” a deep alto voice said, muffled by the rubber. “Biohazard suits are only required when working in one of the active cyanospore labs. We call them the vats. You’re fine in here. All of these samples are inert, just here for research. I just put this suit on; I was beginning to head over to an active lab in a minute. You’re welcome to come.”

  Through the window in the suit, he could see that she was smiling. “I bet you researcher types love to freak out us commoners with that joke.” Moses said. “I’ve been around my share of dangerous substances, I can stand it if you can.”

  She declined his offer with a return smile, “I can wait a little while longer. Can I help you two?” She removed the head from the suit. She was unexpectedly beautiful. He didn’t know what he expected, perhaps someone older due to the expertise, but the woman before him had a large mass of tightly curled dirty blonde hair, full lips, and an upturned hose. Her curly hair fell out and down her shoulders, seeking refuge in the collar of the thick suit. Moses was surprised to see the large hoop earrings. Not something he expected to find inside of a protective helmet.