I think that most of the people of this country do not understand the enormous opportunities that are now at hand with the establishment of the settlements at Chryse Planitia, Sacra Fossa, Candor Chasma and the other small research sites. What we are talking about here is an entire world to be explored. The short-term gains will be found in the vast mineral and energy resources that are available, but the long-term gains will be found with the terraforming of the planet itself. Right now, planetary engineers from all over this world are working, primarily in the Polar Regions, to make Mars a world suitable for life from Earth. A few decades from now, within the lifetimes of some of our viewers today, men and women from Earth will walk on the surface of Mars, among plants and trees and animals, without the aid of a spacesuit.

This is a reality. It’s going on as I speak. And the nation that makes the largest investments on Mars now will reap the largest rewards when that time comes.

-National Address of John C. Weyburn

Governor of the American Settlements on Mars

All I want is to see a blue sky. That’s not too much to ask, is it? I think that most people here have forgotten what a blue sky looks like.

-Benjamin O’Ryan

Police Officer at Chryse Settlement

Chapter 1

   Attack at Ln

Dr. William Mauldin, Seismologist and Chief Project Scientist for the Mars-CORE project at Ln (pronounced “El-en”) Crater Seismological Station walked down the hall to the communications module. He wore a thick wool sweater and held a large mug of coffee in his hand. He had been poring over spread- sheets of data all morning and needed a break. There was nothing more to do until he could retrieve more samples, which was impossible in the howling dust storm outside.

He stepped through the open door of the module and saw Mike Disher at one of the computer terminals. He walked over and stood next to the technician. Disher looked up as he approached.

“Hey, Dr. Bill. Howzit going?”

“Okay, I suppose. I’m getting a little stir crazy, though.”

“You’re wanting to get back to the site?”

“Yes. When we’re cooped up for too long I get antsy.”

“I know what you mean. I was supposed to go into Chryse yesterday. I’ve got a week off coming to me.”

“Will they push it back?”

“If they don’t, I will.”

Dr. Mauldin smiled and nodded. “How long are we supposed to be under this storm anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Disher pushed his rolling chair to an adjoining desk and picked up a piece of paper. Then he rolled back and handed it to Dr. Mauldin. “This report came in over the land-line. Apparently there’s a clear front moving over Noctis Labrynthus heading northeast, but they didn’t say how fast it was coming.”

Dr. Mauldin glanced over the paper. “Are you able to get anything over the radio?”

“No, not a thing. Much of this dust is ferrous and it ruins the reception.”

“I see.” He motioned to the computer screen. “What have you got going here?”

“Just a game. I’m a Spanish Conquistador exploring the New World. I’ve got to deal with the natives, forage for food, find gold mines, and establish bases. It’s quite involved.”

“I’ll bet. What’s that lump on the map?”

“That’s a supply cache. It was a fort but the people starved out. That’s the pain of it. The people in the bases won’t farm, raise cattle, hunt or forage. They are totally dependent on the supplies I bring them.”

“Huh! Sounds like us.”

“Yes, it does,” Disher said. “You should try it sometime.”

“I think I will, if this storm doesn’t let up.” Dr. Mauldin took a drink of his coffee. It was still very hot and he felt its warmth in his stomach. He walked over to the window and looked out at the swirling clouds of dust and sand. His eyes could just barely make out the ridgeline that formed the rim of the crater. He was about to step away from the window when he noticed a set of four headlights coming in over the North Pass. He watched as the vehicle made the sharp left turn and followed the path that ran down the inner slope of the rim to the crater floor.

“Is that a coach coming in?” he asked Disher.

Disher got up and walked quickly to the window. “No. There shouldn’t be anything moving in this soup.”

As they watched, the vehicle stopped about fifty yards from the complex and switched on a searchlight. The beam illuminated the red dust and began to feel its way slowly over the low buildings. It stopped when it got to the communications module and paused there.

“What’s he doing?” Dr. Mauldin asked.

“Maybe he’s lost.” Disher picked up a radio microphone and spoke into it. “This is the radio shack at Ln Station calling the vehicle with the searchlight. Who are you and how can we help you?”

The only reply was static.

“That’s strange,” Disher said.

“He’s moving,” Dr. Mauldin said.

The vehicle rolled forward a little, stopped again, and then began moving quickly, turning to face the communications module.

“What the hell?” Disher said. He picked up the microphone again. “Hey, asshole, look out! You’re going to hit the building!”

The vehicle bore down on the complex, rapidly closing the distance between them. The rumble of its engine could now faintly be heard through the thick walls, overpowering even the wind outside. The rumble got louder.

“He’s going to ram us,” Dr. Mauldin said.

“Christ!” Disher shouted. He ran over to the desk and activated the Emergency Depressurization Alarm. All over the complex the airtight doors began to close. It would be too late for the radio shack, but maybe the rest would be spared.

With his eyes fixed to the incoming headlights and his hand still holding the coffee mug, Dr. Mauldin backed away from the window. The vehicle was like a huge roaring animal with bright, white eyes, lunging to eat him. Instinctively he drew in and held his breath as the vehicle crashed the wall in.

Chapter 2

Ben’s Last Day

The light of the morning sun was barely noticeable on the plains called Chryse in the northern hemisphere of the fourth planet after being filtered through the wild torrents of sand and dust raised by the late-season wind storm that buffeted Mars during its perihelion, or closest approach to the sun on its elliptical orbit. The perihelic dust storm, classified “global” only seven days before, was slowly but steadily subsiding. It had at one point covered eighty-two percent of the surface of Mars and was the type that could even be detected on Earth as a discoloration when viewed from most amateur telescopes. The winds, sometimes gusting to over two hundred and fifty miles per hour, would scour the rocky surface and sandblast any topside equipment to bare metal. The dust, raised high into the cold, thin atmosphere gave the sky a salmon hue when viewed from the surface of the planet.

But there was no one on the surface this morning to view the salmon colored sky. The vast majority of the fifteen thousand residents of the American settlement at Chryse lived in the underground complex and not even the observation windows would be open. Not only was there nothing to see, but also a safety consideration had to be met. Perihelic dust storms posed a particular danger to the structure and Environmental/Atmospheric Control Management took no chances with any condition that might breach the internal atmosphere of the settlement.

But Benjamin O’Ryan wasn’t overly concerned with safety considerations on this morning. This was his last day on the Red Planet and at six o’clock this evening he would lift off on the surface shuttle bound for the planet’s internationally maintained orbital complex. There he would board the Epsilon class interplanetary liner Song of Antares and begin his journey home to the planet Earth.

As he stood in front of the main window of his apartment overlooking the central Mall of Chryse settlement he felt a tinge of sadness mixed with his excitement. He was glad to be leaving, to be sure, but he had cultivated a large group of friends in his three years on the settlement and he knew that he probably would never see most of them again. His friends were close to him, bonded by the camaraderie that exists between people isolated in a hostile environment. It was a deep friendship that he knew was foreign to most people on Earth. He hoped it still existed in some of the few remote places there.

Ben was also leaving behind a distinguished career. In three years he had risen to nearly the top of his field and was well known throughout the settlement. But it was a career he disliked intensely. Dislike for the career had brought him to Mars and dislike would now send him away.

He looked out of his window at the people moving about on the street below. Some boarded the people mover on their way to work while others opened the stores and cafes that bordered the long, grassy, enclosed park. The Mall stretched some two hundred yards long and fifty yards wide and above it a steep, triangle-shaped ornate glass and steel roof usually allowed light to come in, providing a view of the Martian sky while keeping out the harmful cosmic rays that came down…

http://www.amazon.com/Mariner-Valley-James-Crawford-ebook/dp/B0141N9UXO/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Novels by James Crawford –

Mariner Valley – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0141N9UXO

Seed of Aldebaran – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08SHXTRMP

AlCent Sagas Book One: Formation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ5C3TQT

A Noble Paradise – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QG6LZ10