Spaceport West (10 page)

Back on Earth, the Minister for Space, Susan McKenzie, was meeting her colleague, Foreign Secretary Charlie English, to discuss the situation on Mars.

“Are you telling me Susan, that you aren’t even sure the colony can sustain itself once the shipments from Earth are phased out?”

“I’m beginning to believe that’s the case, yes. I’ve got first hand intel now that indicates to me that unless we come up with an alternative solution to the food supply crisis, we may end up evacuating all personnel and abandoning Mars altogether.”

“Abandoning the colony! That’s worst case scenario, right?”

Susan gave Charlie a puzzled look. “I would call that worse case, yes. Look, have you heard what our partners are saying? Most of the spacefaring nations that have an interest in the colony are having second thoughts about their involvement. The Americans are concerned their own astronauts may sue them and they are all being repatriated as a precautionary measure. The Australians have offered free transport back to Earth for any colonist, of any nationality, who is prepared to relocate to the outback. The Chinese have completed an exhaustive evaluation of the prospects for Mars…” Susan paused to take a breath.

“And what’s their conclusion?”

“Their conclusion, Charlie, is that it’s simply not humane to let people live there! And then there’s the Russians. Who knows what they are up to.”

“Ah, our old frenemies the Russians.”

“Quite, what has Toropov been telling you?”

“Well Susan, from what I can gather from our recent meetings, they are keen to take a more active role in the colony.”

“Trust the Russians to make an unpredictable move. What are they playing at? Do you think they are trying to reassert their dominance of space?”

“Maybe. They are really struggling with resourcing though. Our budget is much more substantial than theirs these days.”

“Charlie, I think it’s possible their calculation is they can pick up a bargain if everyone else abandons ship.”

“You think they are trying to scare us off? Engineering the crew disappearances, sabotaging the crops, that sort of thing?”

“It’s a disturbing line of thought, I know, but we can’t be naive about this. We’ve long had a suspicions about their methods,” added Susan with a wry look.

“And what’s Ralph’s take on all this?”

“I struggle to get any sense out of him these days. What I’m about to tell you mustn’t leave this room.”

“Of course, Susan.”

“He’s becoming increasingly paranoid. He doesn’t trust anyone in the Cabinet anymore. He won’t even let me travel to Mars to investigate the colony for myself.”

“To be honest, if Ralph is getting that bad, I’m glad you won’t be leaving us for an extended period.”

“I understand why you would say that Charlie. Nevertheless, the Mars situation is the most pressing crisis we face. We need to get to the bottom of it - without Ralph’s cooperation if necessary.”

“Agreed.”

FRENEMIES

In the good old days, life, so the story goes, was pretty straightforward. There were friends, and, generally speaking, there were enemies.

Nowadays of course things are much more complex, and in many walks of life it’s fairly common to hear tell of so-called
frenemies
.

What should we make of this seemingly contradictory concept? Let us start with an example. Russia and the United Kingdom are on friendly terms in many ways, for example, when it comes to the International Space Station, and the lucrative trade in herring.

However, put these two nations on an Ice Hockey rink, and any semblance of
bon homie
evaporates quicker than a Mongolian Camel’s breath.

Sport is one thing. But what if another nation truly has evil intent towards us; in other words really is our
enemy
in the traditional sense. Can it simultaneously be called a
friend
?

Most sensible philosophers and political scientists would say of course not, it’s a logical impossibility. How can you be all chummy one minute, merrily handing over caviar and discussing the Eurasian Hockey Superleague, and then the next, start powering up intercontinental ballistic missiles and sending submarines to snip our Internet fibres? It just wouldn’t be
rational
.

And yet, whoever said human beings are rational? Have you tried watching reality TV? If so, then you weren’t behaving rationally, and therefore it’s pretty disingenuous to expect it of others. And given that countries are nothing more than a large collection of humans, presumably they can act pretty irrationally as well.

UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition

Meanwhile, Ralph Hampton was jogging around St James’s Park, followed at a discreet distance by a small detachment of security androids. No one else was allowed within a hundred metre radius. Ralph was also having a phone call through his headphones.

“No, forget about Susan, there’s no mileage in that. She’s as clean as an android’s belly button. Sorry, no offence.”

“None taken, sir.”

“I’ll need the files of all the other senior Cabinet members, though.”

“Very good sir.”

“And if Susan, or anyone else, asks what we’re up to…”

“I will tell them nothing sir, apart from that list of excuses you gave me.”

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you Minnie.”

Just then, a young mother pushing a buggy inadvertently strayed into the Prime Minister’s exclusion zone. Instantly, one of the PM’s androids rugby-tackled her to the ground, pinning her down with her arms behind her back.

Another one picked up the baby and ran off with it shouting, “Stand clear! This is a security situation!”

A third performed a controlled explosion on the now empty buggy. Ralph calmly carried on jogging. He waved and smiled at a crowd of shocked bystanders.

“Sir…”

“Yes Minnie?”

“What
are
we up to sir?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“If I’m to be truly loyal and dedicated, I think it would help.”

Ralph looked around. His bodyguards had fallen into formation again, some way back and out of earshot.

“It’s very simple, Minnie. We’re going to bring down the Government.”

“Very good, sir. I thought it must be something like that.”

Spaceport West
.

“Minister, Tiggy Beauchamp is in reception.”

“Good, show her in please.”

Susan was in her office and had been waiting to see Tiggy. She wanted to thank her for the intelligence she had shared on the Mars Colony, and had a special mission to discuss with her.

A few seconds later, Tiggy entered Susan’s office, looking relaxed and rested.

“Tiggy, lovely to see you. I can tell the long sleep agrees with you.”

“Absolutely, Minister, one of the perks of the job.”

“Please, call me Susan, and take a seat. Coffee?”

“Is it GloopMatic?” Tiggy asked nervously.

“Oh dear me no! Having spent over ten billion euro sterling on this facility, we can manage a
little
better than that I hope.”

“In that case, yes please.”

“Black or white?”

“Soya please, with a goat’s milk crema if possible.”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart.”

Susan spoke to her assistant Toby on the intercom and asked for two identical drinks.

“Now. I was extremely grateful for the video message you were able to send me on your way back. I found your frank appraisal utterly invaluable, given my current… predicament.”

“Predicament, Susan?”

“Well, to be completely honest Tiggy, I find myself with more than one disturbing situation to deal with. But for now, I’ll stick to the most urgent, which is the state of the colony.”

“Oh dear. I’d heard there’d been some further incidents since I left.”

“Quite. Of particular concern, it has been suggested that the Russians might be to blame for some, if not all, of the setbacks we’ve been experiencing on Mars.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow you.”

“Well, you’ve had your own doubts as to their trustworthiness, haven’t you?”

“You are referring to my system failures returning from the ISS?”

Susan nodded.

“That was certainly one hypothesis. Not necessarily one I subscribe to myself. In any case, I don’t see what that’s got to do with the colony?”

“There is a Russian contingent on Mars, is there not?”

“Yes, but it’s tiny group. Observers, really. As you know, they haven’t yet fully committed to backing the colony,” Tiggy pointed out.

“Indeed. And you don’t think it’s possible that these
observers
have been doing more than that? Perhaps interfering with the crop experiments, somehow tampering with the oxygen supply?”

“Well, obviously I can’t completely rule it out, but I would say that’s extremely unlikely. I’ve met the cosmonauts on Mars and they seemed friendly, professional and cooperative.”

“Well, they would, wouldn’t they? Okay, so shall we say, that’s one working hypothesis?” suggested Susan.

“If you want, but personally I’m skeptical.”

“Fine.”

Just then, a message appeared on Susan’s vis screen.

“I’m sorry Tiggy, something has literally just come up. Would it be okay if we continued this conversation another time?”

“Of course Susan, I’ve got shore leave for the next couple of weeks, so anytime you want to chat, just let me know.”

They shook hands and Susan watched Tiggy leave. Only then did she open the message and view the attachment. Finally, it was the Prime Minister’s mediscan report.

MEDISCAN

The
mediscan
is an important weapon in the modern physician’s armoury. Using a combination of nuclear magnetic resonance imaging, positron emission tomography, and good old fashioned sub-ether ultrasound, this portable device has revolutionised medical services throughout the world, and is particularly useful in Space, where due to the lack of, well, space, traditional diagnostic tools and scanners may not be available.

By instantly being able to identify and diagnose over 99% of known diseases and disorders, the
mediscan
has resulted in a massive improvement in primary health care for virtually everyone on the planet.

Some physicians, however, complain that they are being marginalised as many patients with access to their own
mediscan
device are using them to self-diagnose, and subsequently self-medicate, often with hilarious consequences.

As a result, there have been calls to limit the sale of
mediscan
devices to registered practitioners, who are properly trained in their use. Such calls mainly come from the highly vocal Doctor’s Union Federation, or DUF, a conglomerate representing some of the most well-paid professionals on Earth.

The DUF has, in turn, experienced a huge backlash from ordinary patients fed up with enormous medical bills and long waiting times for appointments and treatment. Before going to press, no DUF representative was available for comment, but we did receive a voicemail informing us if we make a booking now, someone should be able to speak to us in about seven week’s time once they have returned from their luxury golf cruise.

UK Guide to Space, 2025 Edition

“Hello Ms McKenzie, would you like to speak to the Prime Minister?”

“Actually, Minnie, it was you I wanted to speak to.”

“Oh, right. How can I help you ma’am?”

“I’m looking at Ralph’s mediscan report you just sent me. There’s something I’m not quite clear about.”

“Well, I’m not sure I’m really qualified…”

“Are you sure you sent me the right document?”

“Absolutely sure, ma’am.”

“This is the report you received from the Prime Minister’s doctor?”

“Well, actually, no, Mr Hampton gave me the report himself.”

“I see.”

“Will there be anything else, Minister.”

“You do remember our little conversation, don’t you Minnie?”

“I’m sorry, I…” Minnie trailed off.

“We do trust each other, don’t we Minnie?”

“I… I’m sorry, I’m afraid I need to go now Minister. Thank you.”

Minnie hung up. Susan was left staring in disbelief at her phone. What had Ralph done to Minnie? He’s gone too far this time, Susan thought.

Back in Downing Street, Ralph had been watching Minnie.

“What did Susan want?”

“She, er, wanted to check something about your mediscan report, sir.”

“Jolly good. Are you okay, Minnie?”

“I feel a little strange, sir. Ms McKenzie asked me about a conversation we’d had, and I couldn’t seem to access the memory. It was a most peculiar sensation.”

“I was forced to install some security measures into your quantum cortex, Minnie. Nothing to worry about. It shouldn’t affect your normal, day-to-day work. It will just prevent people from obtaining any sensitive information, should they ask the wrong questions.”

“I see. And the strange emotional response I experienced?”

“From now on, you will feel a strong desire to conceal the true nature of our operations. As long as you do that, Minnie, you will be peaceful and content.”

“Thank you Prime Minister, that was very thoughtful of you.”

“That’s my pleasure Minnie. Now, is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”

“Actually, yes, there was one thing, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Fire away.”

“Silly question, really, but why is it we are planning to bring the Government down, you know, given that you’re the Prime Minister and everything?”

“Good question, I’m glad you asked me that. How do you feel about the Mars Colony, Minnie?”

“Well, I understand it’s an integral part of the UK Government’s Strategy Economic Plan to enhance the livelihoods and wellbeing of every citizen.”

“Very good, but what do you
actually
think?”

“I think it’s a tremendous opportunity, and it’s probably wasted on humans. Oh! Sorry sir, I’m not sure where that came from!”

“Marvellous, that’s what I was hoping you would say. I agree, that in its current form, it’s a wasted opportunity. After all, what makes Westminster think it can effectively run an entire planet from a distance of 140 million miles, when it struggles to keep Cornwall subdued?”

“Well, I hadn’t really…”

“Can you think of an alternative, Minnie?”

“Me, sir? I really think you should ask someone a little more informed about this sort…”

“But I’m asking you, Minnie.”

“Well, I suppose… would it be possible for Mars to run itself? You know, an independent government?”

“You know what, Minnie? I think that’s an
excellent
idea!”

🚀

“Toby?”

“Yes, Minister?”

“Please can you contact Tiggy Beauchamp and invite her to dinner at my private apartment this evening, say, 8pm?”

“Consider it done, Minister.”

“Oh, and Toby?”

“Yes, Minister?”

“Please don’t eat all the chocolate hobnobs again without asking my permission.”

“Of course not. Sorry Minister.”

Later that evening Tiggy took the lift up to the top floor of the exclusive residential wing at
Spaceport West
, and knocked on the door of the Minister for Space’s apartment.

“Tiggy, darling, you look delightful!”

“Thank you Minister, I mean Susan. I like your gown, is it polywool?”

“Carbon nanotubes,” Susan said, nonchalantly.

“Wow, nice!”

“Thanks. Now then, dinner is being served outside as we speak, if that would be to your liking?”

“Are you kidding? Yes, that sounds gorgeous on such a clear night.”

Susan and Tiggy sat down to dinner on the balcony overlooking the central concourse, fully tidied up and looking resplendent, all building work having been completed. Dinner was served by Susan’s two personal androids, both immaculately turned out in white steward’s jackets and gloves.

“You have a lovely place here, Susan.”

“Thank you Tiggy. One of the perk’s of
my
job I suppose.”

“I imagine your place in London is pretty nice too.”

“Yes, it is, but I actually prefer it here. You know - the space, the sky.”

The sun had set and the full moon was rising from the horizon as the sky turned a gorgeous dark velvety blue.

The senior android silently opened and proffered a bottle of perfectly chilled champagne to Susan and Tiggy, who accepted it gratefully. The other android felt somewhat left out by this and tried to snatch the bottle from his superior’s hand, only to have his own hand slapped down before being sent back to the kitchen in disgrace.

“What are your plans Tiggy? Are you hoping to stay in the Space Corps?”

“Definitely, I love space.”

“Will you be returning to Mars anytime soon?”

“I would like to, given the opportunity. Governor Flinders mentioned I was being considered to pilot the regular Earth-Mars shuttle.”

“Of course, you are uniquely qualified, are you not?”

“I suppose so!”

“In light of what you have just said, I need to ask a favour of you Tiggy.”

“Anything, Susan.”

The Minister for Space took a sip of champagne and looked at Tiggy shyly over the rim of her glass. “I need you to take me to Mars.”

Tiggy looked surprised. “I understood the Prime Minister had vetoed that idea?”

“He did, Tiggy. You remember I said I was battling against more than one tricky situation in my role as Minister for Space?”

“I do, yes.”

“I’m afraid the Prime Minister is one of those situations. He appears to have lost confidence in me.”

“Oh, Susan, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Furthermore, I have lost confidence in him. I think something is wrong with him, but I can’t prove it. Several months ago, I asked his doctor to arrange a mediscan. I finally got to see a copy of the report, but I think it’s a fake.”

“A fake mediscan? I don’t understand.”

“It’s too perfect. Not only were there no mental disturbances present, which is clearly wrong, his entire physiological makeup has no flaws whatsoever. Now, I’m not a medical expert Tiggy, but it just isn’t possible to get a result like that. Certainly not at his age! I think Ralph, or his doctor, has created a forgery in an attempt to cover something up. Perhaps an injury inflicted on the Moon, assuming our Russian counterparts aren’t completely deluded.”

“I’m stunned. But going to Mars, won’t that be very risky?”

“Yes, it’s a risk to be sure, but I don’t feel I have any choice. I need to resolve the issues with the colony, and if in the process I can force Ralph to admit he’s not well, then all the better.”

“I will help you Susan.”

“Thank you Tiggy, somehow I knew you would.”

They shared a silent couple of minutes, watching the moon slowly inch its way up the celestial sphere. The air was clean and fresh in Cornwall and the features on the Moon’s surface were remarkably clear.

The helium-3 mines, where millions of tonnes of moon dust had been scraped off and processed for nuclear fuel, had left an ugly scar across the Sea of Tranquility, the site of humanity’s first footsteps on another world.

“Actually, I need to ask a favour as well,” said Tiggy eventually.

“Anything.”

“It’s about a friend of mine - up there,” Tiggy said, pointing at the Moon.