The Halcyon King

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. He wondered if that is true here. The training specialist said that the Martian atmosph -

“Commander, oxygen levels at 22%. We are approaching the threshold for departure back to the DELTA Hab.” SAM reported in my headset. Breaking my thoughts and contemplation.

“Thanks SAM.”

SAM was my integrated suit AI system that monitored all bio systems and helped control function on peripheral devices. Suit-integrated AI Monitor was the foundation of the acronym. Some scientists back on earth had spent weeks of cognitive output on that one, he was sure. She was soft spoken and delivered a gentle comforting voice inside the suits and the Hab. The four astronauts had even taken the step to make her the honorary fifth member of the crew on the voyage here. Celebrating with an obligatory cupcake eating competition and requesting Houston make a team badge for her to bestow on the mission propaganda once they made it home. She was effective in every range of sciences as a support to each of their individual focus points. Geology/Earth Sciences for Chaising. Biology/Astrobiology for Tim. Engineering for both him and Mac. But she seemed most fond of physics. When asked for “random facts” from her as the team did often and to dispel some of the boredom of space travel, she gravitated to those topics frequently in almost an anecdotal tone laced with humor.

One time she asked us, how did Newton come up with his laws of gravity? We of course started responding about sitting under a tree.., SAM said “A cow was walking. Newton shouted at the cow, and it stopped. He formed his first law: an object continues to move unless it’s stopped. Newton gave the cow a forceful kick and it made a sound, ‘MA’. He formed his second law: force, F = MA. The cow gave Newton a forceful kick back. He formed his third law: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Then she actually chuckled.

The landscape drew him back to his task. The geomorphic features of the valleys and troughs of Valles Marineris were magnetizing to the eyes. Standing on the ridge just north of Ganges Chasma he scanned the horizon for future research sampling spots for Chaising and Tim.

“SAM, there's a ridge in the distance with an offset plateau next to it about 800 meters. Can you confirm distance and accessibility?” he said.

“I can confirm it is 794 meters and charting a course to it. I will place a marker from this waypoint to reach again if you would like?” she said in her soft tone.

“Yes. Time to traverse and 02 expenditure from here on the SEG?” he asked.

“Approximately 22 minutes and 10% expenditure Commander.”

Ok that could be accomplished with adjusted supply ratios, he thought. The SEG could get them there over the mapped terrain contours showing on his heads-up display. It was just a modified one person Segway unit with tracked wheels and reinforced sides. It had already proven its capability on the first two missions to the planet and had become a fond, reliable method of travel for the team.

He scanned to the right across the top of the plateau to an outcropping standing alone and juxtaposed against the red hue of the atmosphere. The hazy sun appeared to the right and cast weak shadows across the topography.

What.

He scanned back.

He was sure he saw it. Or was he.

On the right edge of the outcropping a faint light. Or reflection.

“SAM go back to 10 seconds on the heads-up display in my helmet – replay on screen.” He asked hurriedly.

“Replaying.” She spoke.

As the video relayed across his screen his jaw dropped open.

There it was. A faint twinkle or reflection.

“SAM using the Parse for magnification. Record from the Parse and analyze.” He said. The Parse was a handheld computer film, named after the inventor, that uncoiled like an old map from a portable housing. Using both hands an astronaut could use it to analyze just about anything in the known human encyclopedia of scientific knowledge. When paired with SAMs processing capabilities, they made a formidable well spring of information the explorers could tap into when needed.

He pulled the Parse open with his right hand extending the film open to its 2 ft by 1 ft screen length. He held it level at the outcropping.

Nothing.

He held it there.

Nothing.

“SAM, anything in IR or other spectrum at vector 7 in the image?” he demanded.

“Analyzing, standby” she responded quickly.

“Report Commander: Small metallurgic object identified. Unknown metal. Unknown characteristics. Need closer verification parameters to resolve”

Metal he thought.

Metal? Could it be an old probe or rover? Could it be discarded landing material from an old landing or descent? “SAM – have there been any landers or probes near this location that could account for the possible readings?”

“Negative Commander. Nearest physical object would be Viking 1 in Chryse Planitia over 300 kilometers away.” She responded.

“How far to destination and will O2 and time requirements equate to surviving return distance to DELTA?” he asked.

“You would have 2% O2 remaining if you spent less than one minute at the destination. 30% survival odds calculation. This is outside the parameters for safety Commander Sachsee. Recommend we report the findings to DELTA and survey at a later return.”

“Were going.”

He could almost hear SAM sigh.

“Report my survey status to DELTA and notify them of the extension to study a geologic formation.” He barked.

He stepped into the SEG and locked his boots into the magnetic footholds. He grabbed the front rail and twisted the acceleration node on the right side. The SEG responded quickly. Jerking him back into the rear back support. It dug into the Martian regolith. The motor on it protested as he pushed it to its operating limits.

Commander Deck Sachsee was going to make it to this anomaly. 30% survival rating was high enough for him. He could hear Natalie Freeman the Mission Control Flight Director now in his head. What the hell were you thinking. This was an unacceptable risk, Commander. Yes. Yes. Fortune favors the bold though right? He would say back to her. Then they would get into policy standards and ranges as he yawned through the dress down. He had been through this before with training exercises. From the Mars Insertion Orbit to Landing sequences he had always pressed the boundaries. Crashing multiple times in simulation to figure out how the parameters and odds were set against him. Wanting to understand every velocity or G force that he would face in every scenario. Every possible error or manufactured emergency he would face. And Mission Control was happy to throw these at them as this was their required readiness for each Commander on the Mars missions. But he had pushed it to a point where his impulsiveness caused him to be deselected for the second mission. Not because he ever put his other team members in danger. Those decisions were a sacred box he would never allow his temperament to open. But because the appetite for risk was too prominent for the news cycle. The third landing on Mars was still a Holy grail of achievement. But like anything the publics viewing, and interest was already leaning towards mundane. So, he was selected.

His focus and passion had gotten him here. Created by a drive instilled from his father. He remembered his father’s words to him the day he left. The last day he would see him alive. 13 years ago. Son. I have to go now. Remember to never give up. Even in last moments you can save them. He could save them. Never give up? He shook off the words as just parting thoughts of general idioms his dad said frequently. Deck still always thought of the finality of it later. Once the family had been notified. Instead of a simple goodbye on one of his trips around the world. That goodbye was different. He had even handed Deck an old necklace with a patina encrusted eagle, or some type of bird laced to it. He said Keep this. One day it will provide you good luck. I'll see you on the beach. His last words to him. His dad had always joked that he would meet him on the beach. It was their favorite Sunday spot together when he returned home to San Diego from his long trips. He wore the necklace every day since. Eventually realizing the bird was a Kingfisher, or halcyon as it is sometimes called.

“Commander, approaching destination” SAM reported louder than normal. Snapping him back to the drive.

He had covered the 800 meters quickly with most of the path being stable regolith and no impediments. He saw the outcropping in detail. It looked more like a rock mound jutting out of the ground. Approximately 100 feet in width and maybe 50 feet in height. He lived in both worlds of metrics as an astronaut. It looked like a standard formation of columnar Sandstone maybe with some type of mudstone at the bottom surrounding it. Some cross bedding of the sandstone had occurred on the right side giving it an angular point there. But then it sloped evenly in a level manner on the right till it dropped off 50 feet or so down back to the Martian basin. The front had loose regolith path that looked like it had been dumped in a previous sandstorm. Maybe even recently.

“SAM, can you pinpoint the anomaly from here using my heads up?”

“Approximate region is highlighted on your display. Unable to obtain signature again. Could be the angle presented from here. We need to hurry Commander. O2 levels at 15%”

“I know, I know. Moving.” he responded.

As he bounded along the regolith trail, he kept his vision tied to the triangle marker SAM had put on his helmet screen. The meters counted down on approach.

16 meters

10 meters

3 meters

0 meters

He stopped.

He was on a ledge on the right side of the outcropping facing what looked like a wall of stratified sandstone. There was nothing. He looked back reflexively at his SEG tracks back to his starting spot on the hill side in the distance. He grabbed the Parse quickly and opened it and scanned from side to side.

The Parse “pinged’.

“Analyzing the Parse findings.” SAM declared.

He leaned into the spot it had marked.

There it was. Some type of metal no more than an inch wide sticking out from under some of the sandstone. At approximately his chest level.

“Undetermined metal Commander. Unknown classification. Unknown object or purpose." SAM reported.

Doing a further scan. Please hold the Parse level.” She continued.

A metal unknown. Impossible. On Mars. Covered by rock strata. From what and for what purpose? When was it put here? His mind swarmed with questions. Coming faster than he could process.

“No radiation reported. Spectrometer readings negative. X-ray is picking up something. Analyzing. Loading image on the Parse screen now.”

He nearly dropped the Parse on the ground.

His hands started trembling while holding it.

His mind flooding again with questions.

How could it be.

Here? How?

Who put it here?

Why?

When?

Instinctively, without thinking, he reached out and hit the spot of rock where it was covered. “Commander, no –“SAM said too late. The sandstone shattered and crumbled downwards making a small but orderly pile four feet below. It was softened by the regolith as it dropped.

There in front of him was some kind of a metal plate. About 1 ft by 1 ft.

On it was an indentation of a hand molded into the metal.

On Mars.

5 fingers.

Normal size and shape.

A human hand…

Above the indention were the words in English:

Welcome back Commander