The Many Worlds of Dean: Book 1 - Mars (6 page)

“Do you think you will be able to open the
second part?” Sarah asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I will keep trying,
but I’ve gone through all the information in the database on
encryption algorithms and I don’t think we will be able to crack
it. From what I am able tell, the first part had an encryption
level of approximately one hundred bits and the second part has a
level over five hundred. I can’t even determine what level the
other two are at.”

“Alright then,” The Captain began, “the only
way we are going to get any answers is to go find whatever is
sending the signal; which is exactly what Dean, Bill, and I are
going to do tomorrow.”

“But we weren’t scheduled to land on the
planet for another week,” Sarah said.

“I know,” he replied. “And we are still
going to make that landing as scheduled.” He held up his hand at
the questioning looks he got from every member of his crew. “Let me
explain. What you, and the rest of the world, were told was that we
had enough fuel to utilize the lander four times. The reality is
that we have enough fuel to land six times. Just like everything
else on Destiny, the mission planners wanted us to have some backup
just in case. Maybe we developed a fuel leak and needed the extra,
or maybe we discovered something that would warrant an extra trip.
I think this qualifies as the latter. So we have been ordered by
mission control to make an unscheduled landing to find out what is
behind the signal. I’m sure after hearing about Dean’s discovery,
they will be even more adamant that we find the source of this
signal.”

Stacy looked from face to face and then
asked, “But what about the whole ‘first step’ video the people back
home are waiting to see a week from now?”

“We will still do that. Only we will know
that it isn’t actually the first step. We’ve been ordered to keep
this landing a secret; as in national security type secret. I’ll
make sure Dean is the first out of the lander so that we won’t be
lying when we portray him as the first human on Mars.”

“And if something goes wrong?” Sarah asked
skeptically.

“Then SpaceTek will tell the world something
went wrong…a week from now.”

Dean wished he hadn’t eaten breakfast. He
was certain he would be unable to prevent it from spilling forth at
any moment. He tried to look out of the window of the lander, but
all he could see were flames of bright glowing plasma. He had
assumed there would be no flames since Mars had such a thin
atmosphere. He was wrong.

The lander bucked and jumped, like a city
dweller trying to walk barefoot across a gravel drive. In this
instance, Captain Rogers would be the farm raised man with feet
like hardened leather. He was laughing gleefully at the discomfort
both Dean and Bill were obviously experiencing.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” Bill
said. “This is completely unnatural.”

“I agree,” Dean seconded.

“Whoa, did I just hear you two agree on
something?” the Captain asked, smiling wickedly.

Bill looked at Dean, who nodded his head,
before replying, “Yeah, I guess you did. We both think you’re
crazy.”

Dean wished the Captain would pull down the
tinted visor on his helmet so he wouldn’t have to see the huge
smile plastered on his face. It wasn’t fair that the Captain got to
enjoy himself at Dean’s expense.

Suddenly, the buffeting eased. Captain
Rogers looked at the computer display beside him and said, “There,
we’re through the worst of it. A few more minutes and the chutes
will deploy. Buck up lads, we’re about to make history; even if no
one will ever hear about it.”

Less than five minutes later, they felt a
pop as the drogue chute released, followed quickly by a sharp jerk
as the main chutes deployed. Dean thought of the nightmare he had
to look forward to when it would be time to repack those
parachutes. Those things were hard enough to pack with his bare
hands. Doing so in the thick gloves and cumbersome pressure suit
would be extremely difficult. He knew because they had made him do
it dozens of times during training.

Dean’s train of thought was interrupted when
he noticed the scene outside the window across from him. He could
make out the surface rapidly approaching. He was amazed at how much
it looked like the desert outside Phoenix his father had taken him
to when he was young.

He watched as the smooth terrain became
rugged and then rock covered. In the blink of an eye, everything
disappeared, to be replaced with a sheer cliff face. He knew they
were now descending into the great chasm that was Valles Marineris.
He was aware intellectually that the canyon was extremely deep, but
as he watched the wall of rock continue on for a very long time, he
felt as if he had fallen down a bottomless pit.

Finally, with a sudden jolt, they
landed.

The Captain unbuckled his restraints and
stood in the small space. “Okay, you guys know what to do. Bill,
start the diagnostics and make sure we didn’t break anything. Dean,
start checking over the equipment.”

Dean unbuckled and moved to the equipment
locker just off to his left side. Opening the doors, he saw rows of
equipment, neatly strapped down and prominently labeled. He began
pulling each item out one at a time so he could inspect it and
ensure no damage had occurred during the rough descent and even
rougher landing.

Once everything had been checked over and
declared serviceable, both equipment and lander, the Captain
announced it was time to open the door. Dean nervously looked at
the small airlock set into the side of the lander. He was suddenly
unsure if he should be the first to go through it.

“Alright dean,” the Captain said with a huge
grin. “This is your big moment; go on through.

Dean swallowed and stepped up to the
airlock. He slowly reached out and pulled open the inner door.
Taking one last look back he hesitantly stepped into the airlock
and closed the door. He reached up to ensure his helmet was
properly sealed and then pushed the control which would activate
the pump to suck all the air from the tiny space. Once the light
above the outer door turned green, he swallowed once more and
pushed the outer door open.

The scene that greeted him was breathtaking.
He had been expecting a monochromatic vista, but everywhere he
looked there were subtle color differences that highlighted certain
features in an amazing display. Slowly he gathered his courage and
then stepped from the lander onto the Martian surface.

“Hey Dean,” the Captain’s voice echoed
inside his helmet. “Just out of curiosity, what are you planning to
say when you do this in front of the cameras next week?”

Dean smiled beneath his helmet. “I proudly
take the next step through the doorway to the universe.”

Dean was astonished when he heard Bill say,
“Not bad kid; not bad.”

Once the three men were all outside, they
began to repack the parachutes so the lander would be ready for
takeoff when their allotted time on the planet expired in a little
less than sixteen hours. As Dean had feared, trying to pack the
chutes while wearing the cumbersome space suits and maneuvering in
the lighter gravity of Mars proved to be a herculean task. At one
point during the process, Bill came over and snatched a tool from
Dean’s hand and said, “You’re doing that all wrong. You twist
clockwise to engage the locking spring.”

“I know that,” Dean answered sharply. “But
the spring is bent. I was trying to see if I could pop it out so I
could put in a replacement.”

“Let’s get something straight right now,”
Bill said, eyes flaring hotly behind his tinted visor. “I am the
chief engineer. You don’t fix, adjust, or repair anything on the
lander or Destiny without my express permission. Got it?”

Dean’s hands clenched into fists as he said,
“Fine! I won’t touch a thing unless you tell me to.”

“That better go for Stacy as well.”

A look of confusion crossed Dean’s face as
he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you two
look at each other. I’ll bet you’ve been ‘assisting’ her with a
great many things lately.”

“That’s it Bill,” the Captain interjected.
“You’re way out of line this time. I suggest you have a long talk
with Stacy when we get back. I think you’ll find out how far from
the mark you really are right now.”

“We’ll see,” Bill mumbled in reply.

They finished packing the chutes and
repairing the bent spring in silence. Once they were finished, the
Captain suggested they get started on their search for the source
of the radio signal while they still had some daylight left. Using
a signal strength meter, Bill led the way.

As they began walking, Dean looked around in
amazement. The rock face to their backs stretched up into the sky;
the top barely visible in the far distance. Looking in the other
direction, he was unable to see the wall that formed the other side
of the massive canyon they were in. Rocks littered the landscape
everywhere he looked. Most were no bigger than his closed fist, but
many were the size of houses.

They continued walking for more than two
hours. The Captain had moved off about fifty meters to the left to
increase their chances of finding whatever was sending the signal.
He had asked Dean to stay behind Bill. After hours of silence, Bill
suddenly said, “I got a strong signal from up ahead.”

Dean looked up at the unchanging landscape
and said, “I don’t see anything.”

Bill turned around and began walking
backwards so that he could look at Dean as he said, “Thank you
captain obvious. Maybe you would like to operate the meter since
you are obviously better at everything than I am. I swear I don’t
know what the Captain sees…”

“Bill, look out!” Dean interrupted
abruptly.

Dean had just noticed a large hole appear,
seemingly from nowhere, behind Bill. The hole was at least three
meters in diameter. Bill was still walking backwards and had not
seen it until Dean yelled. At that point, he was already at the
edge and momentum was trying to make him continue in the same
direction. He began wind-milling his arms in an attempt to catch
his balance. Dean could tell he wasn’t going to make it as Bill
began to fall back into the hole.

Dean took three running steps and dove onto
his stomach, sliding until his shoulders had passed the edge of the
hole. Reaching out, he just barely managed to clasp Bill’s right
ankle with his left hand. Swinging his right hand over, he got a
solid two handed grip on the ankle before his left hand could give
way under the stress. Bill was dangling headfirst down a dark hole
that didn’t appear to have a bottom. Dean hung on with all his
strength and began yelling for the Captain to help.

“Oh god, don’t let me go,” Bill
screamed.

Less than a minute later, Dean didn’t think
he was going to be able to hold on much longer. Just as his grip
was beginning to falter, Captain Rogers slid into position beside
Dean and grabbed Bill’s left ankle with his left hand. Relieved of
some of the weight, Dean was able to re-secure his grip. The
Captain reached down with his right hand and took hold of Bill’s
flailing left hand. With a grunt of effort, he began dragging Bill
over the edge towards safety.

Once the majority of Bill’s body was up and
over the edge, Dean released his grip and rolled over on his back,
panting heavily.

Continuing to pull Bill away from the hole,
the Captain said, “Dean, get away from the edge.”

Dean put his hands on the ground beside him
and began to push himself into an upright position. Before either
man could react, the Captain and Bill both watched in helpless
astonishment as the ground beneath Dean gave way and he fell
headlong into the hole.

Scrambling back to the edge of the hole,
Captain Rogers stuck his head past the rim and saw no sign of Dean
whatsoever. He quickly scurried back as he felt the ground begin to
give way under him. Once away from the edge, he watched in horror
as the sides of the hole began to collapse. Within seconds, the
hole was completely covered over and all that remained was a slight
depression in the ground.

Dean fell for several seconds, all the while
trying to catch the sides of the tunnel he was falling through. He
thought for certain he was going to slam into the bottom and break
his neck. All of a sudden, he lost his breath at the sharp impact
he felt on his back, but he continued moving. The tunnel had
changed from vertical to an angle and only his life support
backpack taking the brunt of the impact had saved him from serious
injury. Now he was sliding headfirst on his back down the sloping
tunnel.

He was now able to throw his hands down and
gain some purchase on the smooth rock. He managed to slow his
descent, but was unable to completely terminate his momentum. After
sliding for more than thirty seconds, he grunted in pain as the
tunnel abruptly ended and he fell several meters to impact on a
level surface.

Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach and
pushed himself up from the ground. Looking around, he could tell he
was in some sort of cavern. He could barely make out the walls near
him from a diffuse glow emanating from off in the distance.

“Captain,” he said aloud. “Captain, can you
hear me.” Static was his only reply.

A blinking red indicator light displayed on
the inside of his helmet faceplate caught his attention. Lifting
his left arm, he opened the cover of the life support computer
mounted there and read the display. What he saw made his gut wrench
and a bead of sweat materialize on his forehead. He was leaking
air. He should have had several hours left, but according to his
computer he would be out of air in approximately twenty
minutes.