At dinner, Skip and Mark went over the events of the day as each had seen them. They discussed how things had gone with Evan’s hearing and the broken seal on Bay One. They talked through the current schedule of the evac. They reviewed who would be moving permanently to Valerio tomorrow.
They talked a little about how things were on Earth when Valerio left. They talked about both the mining company and the fleet, what was still running, morale, how much longer until everything shut down.
“We have something pretty spectacular for tomorrow,” Mark said. “We’d like everyone who can to come to the observation room tomorrow at about 1:00 local.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow the sun rises over Saturn. We should have a perfect view about 1:13. If we gather at 1:00 we should be able to dim the lights in time. Most people really enjoy it when they see it the first time.”
Skip thought about all the “firsts” he’d seen since he started his career in the Fleet. They never became mundane. The things he saw from space always fascinated him. He imagined Mark would be surprised at how often Skip still took his opportunity to see Earth rise over Luna, or the sun rise over Earth. He thought of all the people who would never see these things, who never cared if they ever saw these things. He thought of all the things men would never see. He shook his head slightly.
“What?” Mark asked.
“Oh, sorry,” Skip answered. “I was thinking about the fact that this would be the last time anyone will see the sun rise over Saturn from Titan – from anywhere. Why do people keep throwing space away?”
“Space is big,” Mark said. “It can’t be solved in a day, or a year. People get the fever, their imagination captures them, but it takes time before anything they imagine becomes reality. They don’t have the patience to see it through, especially when we elect new administrations every few years. Sooner or later someone asks, ‘What are we getting for our investment?’ The answer is never satisfactory. We abandoned Luna in the late 20th century, we abandoned Mars in 2098, and now we abandon the moons of Jupiter and Saturn.”
“Do you suppose we’ll ever try again?”
“We might, but I doubt you or I will live to see it. The most we can do is leave Titan in as good a shape as possible, so they can reach farther if they do try.”
“How much longer before the outpost is ready?”
“Oh, we only need another day. We’re waiting until you have Valerio nearly loaded. I’ll try to time it so we can cast off as soon as the Bays are sealed, but you may have to wait a little while for us.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t rush. Maybe it would be good for your people and my crew if we do something special to mark turning off the lights.”
Mark thought for a minute. “That might be good at that,” he said. “Let me give it some thought.”
And with that, the dinner conversation turned to more practical matters.
Day three, and tempers were already becoming thin. There just wasn’t enough for the miners to do. Skip, Mark, Val, and Dan spent breakfast considering ways to break the boredom. The Fleet had a few sporting events designed for the confines of a cargo hold. One was a variant of soccer with team members a lot closer and the walls in-bounds. All sorts of bounce shots became possible and added an intensity to the game without making it truly dangerous. The games couldn’t be too long as they required a great deal of stamina. It sounded just the trick to help while away the hours before Valierio was ready to leave. The leaders decided to establish 8 teams and run a double-elimination tournament. Since Fleet crew were familiar with the game, teams would be established that evenly distributed Fleet players among the miners. The two execs were put in charge of setting up and running the tournament. The recently-freed Evan would be included. The first games would begin after sunrise. All felt that arranging the teams and establishing some practice schedules should be enough to keep everyone busy until then.
Eight teams were formed, each with 5 players, two alternates, and a coach / captain. The Titan Space Soccer League was comprised of the Panthers, Tigers, Broncos, Bulls, Cowboys, Astronauts, Diggers, and Ions. After a morning of practice, the coaches requested a set of pre-tournament games so the miners could get in some scrimmage. They agreed to four games consisting of three 15-minute periods.
The mood at lunch was far better than it had been at breakfast. The dining hall was filled with talk about the tournament and how the practices were coming along. There was one round of games scheduled for that afternoon. Between Valerio and the outpost there were four playing fields, so everyone would be playing. They’d view the sunrise, get in a little practice, then start the tournament.
At 1:00 people were done eating and had begun moving into the viewing room. The hosts were kind enough to ensure Valerio’s crew had the best view. Eight would be watching from orbit as they were on board stowing gear. The rest were on the moon. At 1:10 all the lights were dimmed. The star field outside would have been breathtaking, but the crew were used to an unhindered view of space. On earth, seeing the Milky Way as it threaded its way through the night sky was a rare experience, but not from the space between the planets. The miners were also accustomed to a very dark sky that allowed them to see the stars unhindered. It wasn’t the stars out there that made the show this afternoon, it was their own star.
Just after 1:12 Saturn’s atmosphere turned a brilliant white. Skip had nearly missed the first purple rays of light as they bent around the planet through Saturn’s atmosphere. Slowly they brightened to a brilliant blue, then the white that told them all the sun was about to crest the planet. The brilliant explosion of sun light drew an audible gasp from the crew. The miners smiled as their guests reveled in the beauty that could be seen nowhere else but Titan.
Skip could not explain why this sunrise was so different from the others he’d seen. The sun was small compared to the way it looked from the inner planets, but he’d seen the sun shrinking the entire trip out. He’d seen the small sun before Valerio went into Saturn’s shadow a few days before. But somehow the way it exploded into view, the way the rays scattered in Titan’s frigid atmosphere, maybe it was just because he’d been missing it without realizing it, something made it spectacular. Skip turned to Mark and said, “Thank you. This is absolutely breathtaking.”
But the moment didn’t last. An alarm sounded loudly through the station. Mark went to an intercom and toggled the switch. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“We’ve got a leak in Sector 3, Sir” the voice at the other end replied.
“Is anyone there?” Mark wanted to know.
“No, Sir. Everyone’s either here, in the viewing room, or in orbit. The sector is clear. I’ve sealed the sector off, but we haven’t deployed anyone yet to patch the leak.”
“Is it bad?”
“Not yet, Sir. Only a Class II leak. Unless something changes there’s no hurry. Should I send in the repair team?”
“Let me get up there before we do anything,” Mark answered. “I’m on my way.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Skip asked him.
“No, you’ll be welcome.” Mark walked briskly to the command center.
“Do these leaks happen often?”
“Rarely, but we train for them. We have good atmosphere scrubbers and a pretty good capacity for making more, but we try not to lose any more than we have to. When the outpost was new it was rare to have one a year. Of course, like everything else, the outpost has been declining and we’ve had to deal with them more and more. This is probably the third leak in the last six months.”
“I guess I’m not used to treating an air leak like anything less than an emergency. Obviously on Valerio we don’t have as much to spare.”
They went into the command center and pulled up the schematic for Sector 3. It was mostly a set of hallways and storage units, no living quarters or key facilities. “Is there anything left in these storage areas?” Mark asked.
The Officer of the Watch, an engineer named Nelson, consulted a list. “No, everything’s been pulled out of those rooms.”
“So, it doesn’t seem to me there’s any reason to keep Sector 3 open,” Mark observed. “We have a bit of a detour to get to the main entrance to the mine, and back here to the sickbay, but nothing to create a real problem for the next couple of days.”
Nelson looked at Mark for a minute. “Are you suggesting, Sir, that we not repair the leak?”
“I’m suggesting, Nelson, that it seems to be a complete waste of time to repair a station that we’re abandoning. We can note in the log that Sector 3 is not safe in case anyone ever tries to re-occupy this outpost. Otherwise, it doesn’t seem worth delaying the tournament over.”
“But, Sir,” Nelson protested, “you can’t just leave it unrepaired while we have the means to repair it.”
“We have the means, Nelson, but not the motive. Even though we’ve never lost a man repairing a leak, the outpost has only grown weaker with time. We don’t know what could happen with men in there. Why take any risk when we’re about to remove the last man for good in less than three days?”
As if to emphasize his point alarms began to ring again. One of the engineers shouted, “The break is wider, Sir. It’s now a Class V leak.”
“Class V, Nelson. That’s bigger than we’ve ever dealt with before. Can you see that it might make sense just to leave it?”
“I guess I really can’t take seriously the thought that she’ll be completely abandoned, Sir. It just won’t sink in that when we break orbit, nobody will care what happens down here. That’s just so unreal to me.”
“Is it fully sealed off? Barrier doors holding?”
Nelson nodded. “The rest of the outpost is in no danger, Sir.”
“Let the air bleed away, then. One less piece of this place we’ll have to say goodbye to. Cancel the alarms”
“Yes, Sir.” Nelson turned back to his desk. The alarms went silent.
“The fleet’s been abandoning equipment throughout the system,” Skip observed. “It’s taken some getting used to, but the cost of bringing every broken piece of gear back to Earth just isn’t worth it.”
“It’s clearly the right thing to do,” Mark agreed. “But it’s not easy to just watch your home fall apart. That’s not how we were meant to live.”
“No, it’s not,” Skip agreed. “The tournaments should be getting underway soon. Why don’t you try to enjoy the games. I’m going to go check on the loading operation. If it’s all going well I should be able to join you in about half an hour.”
“OK, Skip, see you soon.” Mark headed off in the direction of the main gym while Skip turned toward the loading dock to talk with Smitty.
“We’re on track for getting off planet tomorrow evening,” Smitty reported. “But we do have one small problem.”
“What’s that?” Skip asked him.
“Crane 3’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“It died as we were getting ready to lift off and it won’t re-start. Rogers thinks it’s the fuel transfer pump. It’s not something he can repair and we don’t have any spares.”
“How much will that impact your schedule?”
“Not by more than four hours, Sir. We’re pretty efficient with one crane per bay. The extra crane was only making a slight difference. The toughest part is going to be getting it back up to the ship when we’re done with everything else. These guys aren’t powerful enough to carry one of their own so we’re going to have to rig two to work together. Then we’ll have to maneuver the crane into the dead dock and secure it. That will take two to three of the hours.”
“That seems like such a waste of time,” Skip looked frustrated.
“It’s not something we really have a procedure for, Sir,” Smitty offered. “This has only happened once before to Armada, and they just left it until they could return with the parts to repair it.”
“Actually,” Skip said, “That’s a pretty good idea.”
“Come again, Skip?” Smitty was a little taken aback.
“Why would we waste a lot of time and energy to bring a broken crane back to Earth that will never be used again? We should leave it here until someone wants it badly enough to come get it.”
Smitty just looked at his C.O. for a minute. “You’re serious!” he exclaimed.
“Smitty, these things weren’t made to haul external cargo. That’s a serious refit. They weren’t made to fly in formation. That will take some serious piloting. Once you get the dead crane aloft, someone will have to go EVA to maneuver it into the dock. That’s some serious risk. So, yes, I’m serious. What are we going to do all that for?”
“But it isn’t ours, Skip. We can’t just leave someone else’s equipment here. It’s not our call.”
“It’s my call,” Skip said. “I’m responsible for the safety Valerio’s crew, its passengers, and its cargo. The ship has a Captain to make the decisions concerning safety when out in space. I’m not risking my crew for a crane nobody’s ever going to use again. If the Fleet isn’t happy, I’m sure someone will be willing to make a run back out here to get the crane.”
“Skip…”
“Subject’s closed, Smitty. Have Rogers pull anything off the crane he thinks might be useful . We leave the rest here.”
“OK, Captain.
The Panthers, Bulls, Astronauts, and Ions survived the first round of play. Mark came to Skip to discuss the possibility of trades.
“I don’t know,” Skip mused. “I can imagine the teams wanting to make themselves better, but it’s not as if the losing teams are trying to build something new for the future. With nothing to bargain for, the losing teams will just give up their best players. I don’t want to create too many rules, but we should do our best to keep this interesting.”
“I was hoping you had done this before and would have some good ideas. If you’re just considering options, I have an idea that I think would work. ”
“I really don’t have particular experience to help you with. This is the longest trip and the biggest outpost we’ve evaced so far. Much of this is as new to me as it is to you. If you have a good handle on this, I’ll back whatever you come up with. If you need me to, that is.”
Mark smiled. “I’m not worried about you and me always putting up a united front. But the more often we’re together, the better. There is a bigger question I need to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
“One of my men has asked to be left behind on Titan.”
Mark was speechless for just a moment. When he finally found his voice he asked, “Is he serious?”
“He seems to be. He says he doesn’t want to just kill himself like Garrison, but he doesn’t have anything to look forward to back on Earth. He wants to die on Titan, but to live out as long a life here as he can. He says he wants to die ‘at home.’”
Skip drew his hand across his forehead. He was surprised it was so dry, he was sure he was sweating. “That is definitely outside my experience. I’m not going to have any easy answer for you there, Mark. Have you talked with Mal?”
“Not yet. I honestly don’t want this thing to spread. I don’t know how many people might ask for the same thing if they knew someone else had already broken the ice.”
“That makes some sense. Of course, if you do decide to leave him here, you can’t keep it to yourself. If nothing else people will wonder where he is when it’s time to go. This cat will come out of the bag. Wow. He doesn’t want to leave. Honestly, I don’t know what to say.”
“Can we leave him here?”
“I don’t think that’s the question,” Skip offered. “I think the question is, ‘Can we make him go?’ In all the time the Fleet’s been in operation, there’s never been an issue with someone returning to Earth when it was time. I really can’t understand why he wants to stay.”
“Titan is a pretty special post,” Mark said. “Because it’s so far and the ore runs are so infrequent, people have long cycles out here. They have to be senior miners to apply, and they have to be accepted. It’s a pretty rigorous acceptance process, so those who get to come think of it as a choice opportunity, accepting only the best of the best. We’ve also gone to a great deal of trouble to make this a special home away from home so we won’t have problems with people staying out here for a full cycle. People become loyal. I think we’ve only had 2 or 3 who’ve come for a cycle who haven’t asked to return. Nobody on the moon right now has been here less than 3 cycles. I can imagine why someone would stop thinking of themselves as an Earthlink and start thinking of themselves as a citizen of Titan. And this time it’s not a cycle back to Earth, it’s a full-fledged return. I’m really afraid if the idea gets out Lem will have a lot of company.”
“That’s his name, Lem?”
“Yes.”
“So, the problem is compelling him to leave against his will balanced against the fact that he is committing a slow suicide. If he just committed suicide, like Garrison, the decision would be made for us. But if he threatened suicide, you’d be compelled to intervene. I’m not sure what the call is here.”
“Isn’t he trespassing if he stays?” Mark wondered.
“Oh, at some level he is. But at another level he’s trespassing in an abandoned house on a deserted island. Nobody’s property rights are being violated if nobody cares about the property. On Earth an abandoned house would still be protected, but that’s because the neighborhood would care how the abandoned house was treated. But the nearest neighbor will be a long way away and totally uninterested in what happens here. If we ever do return to space, Lem will be long gone before this outpost is re-opened. I don’t think we have much right or reason to force him to go with us.”
“But we can’t just leave him here to die!”
“Technically, we can. It’s his call, not ours, when and where he dies. My big concern is the idea seems romantic now, but gets old in a couple of weeks. Once we’re gone, he can’t change his mind. I need to have as much confidence as I can that won’t happen.”
“I wish I could argue with you. I’d like to find some reason to lock him up in your brig for the ride home. I might have trouble living with myself if we just leave him here.”
“I hear you. But I have an idea. One of my men has a degree in counseling. He’s been pretty good when I’ve had people with issues before. Occasionally we ship out for a long haul after someone’s had a really bad fight with his or partner, or after a really tough custody hearing, and John helps them talk it through. This is a little bigger than that, but I think I want John to talk with Lem. If Lem still wants to stay after the talk, I’m afraid we’ll have no good choice but to let him.”
“I guess if that’s the best we’ve got,” Mark said, “then that’s what we’ll go with. Let me know when you’ve talked with John and I’ll put you both in touch with Lem.”
“OK. Oh, and it looks like we’ll be able to leave tomorrow after dinner. We’ll use the afternoon to make sure all the personnel are settled aboard Valerio. Whatever you had planned for a good-bye, it will happen after lunch.”
“All right,” Mark said. “I’ll make sure we’re set up. Call me when you’ve talked to John.”