OUTPOST-Chapter Twelve: Mars-base ROLL CALL

CHAPTER TWELVE
Outpost
By Julian Phillips
Tom Luong Films
Dec.29, 2009

Commander Bojji-Than led Karen away from her breakfast, again now into the maze of cavernous recesses, rooms, hallways, offices, tech-rooms, and work-areas, that were unanimously regarded as his 'kingdom', as leader of the US Mars-base on-site program, in 2076. He was a benevolent type, not given to tyranny of delusions of power and pleasures, far more interested in the science, research, progress and knowledge. Karen followed him like an obedient duckling, and he the drake, she somewhat of an Alice in this new wonderland on Mars.
"This is the Command Center, where I keep regular offices," Bojji said. "This way."
Bojji-Than had inherited his job at the Mars-base much as any of the space-program staff and leadership had been commissioned to their various posts---the pilots, launch-specialists, navigators, communications, technical, planners and policy, science-and-computers, rocketry, and those at work at the Molinari mid-point space-dock, such as Guy Reisling's lover, Lila Meetek. Years of training, education, and rising through the ranks, and each had proven themselves, and earned their jobs, which were highly prized. For Bojji, it had been through years of work with the program, mostly in launches, inter-planet navigation, and physics-science. Another egg-head, another adventurer, and a man beloved of his 'employees' for level-headed decision-making, human-compassion, and good-judgment, backed by solid knowledge and experience.
ROLL-CALL: these are the men and women who live and work at the US-Mars-Base at the time of the discovery of the approach of Asteroid U2752b, now circa 2076.
Commander Bojji-Than: male, about age 62-years, Asian. Responsible to oversee all operations at the base (on Mars). Installed as base Commander in 2070, at work on-the-job now six years. Thin, dark-skinned, and muscular for his age, the Commander enjoys playing classical violin as a hobby, and his collection of fine wine (a rarity on Mars).
Juno Amorrossi: male, age 45 years. Juno is the muscular, masculine and athletic base Security Officer, French-Belgian in heritage. He is affable and friendly, trained in marital arts and especially judo, at the Master's level. Work for Juno at the base on Mars is rather boring, due to the nature of the crew-and-staff who work there. He is only rarely needed for personnell disputes, sometimes misbehavior or intoxicated residents who over-do things, and minor disciplinary actions. Most often he would act as an event crowd-control manager, or public host, and then of course in a safety-and-security capacity, concerning matters such as proper air-lock function, or passage of people through air-locks safely. It must be said, Juno was a big hit with the ladies at the Mars-base (ciao!)
Vinces Grant: male, age 49 years, in the role of Mars-base Science-and-Research Lead. Work at the Mars-base had always been intended as a platform for discoveries about Mars, including anything and everything there was to know or learn. Thus, a vast arena, even an entire new world. With a staff of about 20 science-specialists, which also changed as needs arose, Vinces organized each long-term or short-term exploration---mapping, geology, life-and-water search, planetary physics, atmospheric and radiology-solar, soil values for potential agriculture or other uses, planet history and archeology, and so on. These were on-going, and all collected data was analyzed and recorded, or sent back to other researchers on Earth. Vinces Grant was a husky-looking Latin man, variously multi-ethnic in his DNA-origins and ancestry. Hobbies includes star-gazing and astronomy, and he also seemed to have an endless personal memory for sappy one-liners and jokes.
Chassidy Katola: female, age 28 years. Chassidy's job might have seemed at first less important than others, but Mars-base residents knew her as their primary source of Health-and-Wellness guidance in this strange world. Though young, she was a successful and advanced Wellness Therapist, and her work included nutrition, exercise, medical-holistic, emotional, and other health areas. Chassidy was a Black woman, very beautiful and sexy, and with quite dark skin. She also had an MD in a broad spectrum of 'wellness' knowledge. The base staff included many other MD's, various types of doctors, and dentists, others. Maybe it was because her discipline included all areas of health, that Chassidy was a touch-stone of help and guidance for all 230 base residents, in any area of physical-emotional distress, pain, fatigue, or illness---that she was so popular---or maybe simply because she was a fun and beautiful person, effervescent and joyful to be with. Any illness, or viral infection, even a simple flu-bug, could spell disaster for them all. Fear, ideas and rumours, and overall staff-and-crew fitness, s critically important. Chassidy encouraged regular and vigorous sexual release for all the Mars-base residents.
Matt Curisonn Van Templar: male, age 42-years. Matt, or 'the Templar Knight', as he was sometimes called, was the Lead-Person on Rocketry and Launches, for the Mars-base. This included any re-entry, or shuttle landings, ships in orbit, transports to and from Earth, and 'lifts' from the Mars-surface to ships waiting in the orbit-space above. Matt was a 'white man', not very physical, though fit enough, and trended towards 'nerd' in appearance and disposition. His job was critical; without the skill and knowledge needed to launch or land ships and people or goods on Mars, and from Mars, they would all soon perish. Or, if they didn't die---life would be very difficult until launches and rocketry were restored. Like anyone, Matt 'the Templar' took pride in his work, and there had never been a disaster or crash, under his command, that being some 15 years (including work back on Earth in the same arena). Crashes did happen. Ships would fail to re-enter atmosphere and gravity, or even explode, with all hands lost, for whatever reason---mechanical, human error, environmental. Matt was like a watchful hawk over each and every launch, keen for any hint of error or failure. and for this much he had earned the respect of all. He was also a homosexual, with a male-lover commonly known to many of his friends, who was a Safety Worker at the Mars-base.
Charley Barron: age 53-years, male, Mars-base Environmental Safety and Atmosphere-Integrity Officer. Charley's job was to mainatin the Mars-base facility internal environment such as to remain humanly habitable and sustainable for life-support, here on this hostile planet. His staff was one of the largest from among the 230 base inhabitants. The breathable air, the C02-scrubbing and oxygen recycling, temperature-control, drinkable water and waste-processing, crops and hot-houses, imports of supplies, raw-materials, chemicals, and also internal energy-systems, and much more, were all under his authority. And he knew what he was doing, never forgetting that all their lives depended on the environmental-system integrity and functionality. An air-leak to the outside, a recycling failure, a water-supply loss or contamination, an energy-power system failure for air-circulation, or even a tiny meteorite from space, that somehow penetrated the external shell of the base-structure---all of these dangers and more, would wipe them out in days, if not hours. The entire base was on back-up as far as most of these systems, but each required constant attention, monitoring and adjustments. The US-Mars base was remarkable precisely because it was 'self-sustaining', and could basically exist all on its own, pretty much as long as the residents could keep it all going, even without Earth transports. So Charley was in charge of making that a reality, Twenty-four/Seven, flawlessly and without any surprises. He was a short-statured man, rustic-looking, and given to parties and drink in off-hours. Everyone who knew him encouraged his happiness and parties or girl-friends, given that he held their lives in his hands.
Of course the Mars-base include many, many others. The Safety-Workers, the Reserve-Pilots, the Surface-Workers and Excursion Commanders, the Suit-Suppliers and Suit-Maintenance, Food-Workers, Communications, Satellite-Traffic, and on and on---all fascinating, healthy, colorful people, male and female, with much to offer. The oldest man at the base was nearly 70-years young, was was involved in water-research. The youngest person who was a Mars-regular was only 23 years-old, a Safety Worker. In the past, Earth children had sometimes visited the base, in groups of about ten at a time, as young as only about ten years-old.
Karen Tutturro followed behind Bojji-Than, into the Command Center where he was expecting another boring day. Boring is usually good, in space-travel. The oval-shaped room was much like an Air-Traffic Control Tower at a large Earth jet-airport. Numerous monitoring computers were manned by various staffers, working long-shifts---they kept track of everything from the external base-perimeter, to Mar's twin orbiting moons. If a dust storm was kicking up in the Southern hemisphere, 3,000-kilometers away, they needed to know. Communications from Earth were constant, but only a few types of messages had any real importance---the communications equipment and actual operating systems that Karen would be working on were elsewhere. Earth-communications were still functioning, and had been all along, but not at the level they needed for transmission of research data in large enough batches to make the effort successful. She had come a long, long way to get the job done, and it was important enough work that she was temporarily a minor celebrity at the base (as all new arrivals were).
"Everyone, please," Bojji addressed the room full of people, about 20 in all at various stations, in a loud voice. He stood at the head of the room on a small observation platform, and of course got their attention. "Please welcome our latest visitor from back home. This is Karen Tuturro, a Sci-Tech in Communications from Vandenberg. Hopefully Karen is going to repair our communications system."
Karen blinked and smiled. "Hi---everyone."
The room called back, some laughing, with 'hello's', 'howdy's' and welcomes. It was a rowdy bunch, mostly veterans who recognized a Mars-Virgin when they saw one. One man honked a small flatulent-horn he had at his desk. Others tapped their coffee-cups. "What's wrong?" Karen asked Bojji. "They don't seem to like me."
"Of course they do," he replied. "With most of these, if you had brought a 12-pack of beer from Earth,and barbecued ribs, it would seal your fate with them forever. Have no fear. They'll be your friends in no time. Especially if you can fix our antenna problem."
They moved off the platform at the head of the room, strolling slowly around some of the posts and tech-stations. "I don't think it's an antenna issue," Karen confided to Bojji-Than. "I was looking over some of the data-schematics and system-analysis. What I need to do is shut the entire Earth-link down for about two or three days. Then I'll be able to isolate various components and their functions, and find the gremlin. Once I find the gremlin, I make a repair on just the part that isn't working well, then hook it all back together and start it up again. Then you start-up a new data-stream to Earth of the type you were working with. With any luck, you'll have no problem."
"Sounds like a plan," Bojji replied.
"I'll also need an assistant or two, or co-workers, under my direction, from your Telecomm staff."
"Certainly," Bojji replied. They paused. After a moment, Vinces Grant, the Research Lead for the base, approached them both and introduced himself. Grant worked in a jump-suit that would have been more appropriate on a fishing boat off the coast of Catalina, back in California. Not tall, but rather wide, he had a slinky-masculine appeal that was irresistible and charming. He took Karen's hand. "Vinces Grant," he said. "Pleased to meet you."
"Vinces does control for all the base research teams, exploration programs, science-and-data. In fact, it's his programs and the data they have for the teams on Earth, that comprise the content for the Telecomm-systems to transmit, that failed---prior to your trip here to Mars," the Commander said to Karen. Bojji-Than had known Vinces for many years, and could anticipate one of his one-liner jokes, before Vinces even opened his mouth.
"Why are there no uncooked hot-dogs on Mars?" he tossed out, in Karen's direction.
"Huh?" she said. "Oh---uh---I don't know. Why?"
"Because Mars is the god of war, not the dog of raw."
Karen took a moment to try to understand the humor..
"Not one of your better jokes, Vinces," Bojji said.
"Come on, you get it---'raw' is 'war' spelled backwards, that's all. See? Laugh, dammit!"
Karen complied and chortled a bit, if only for his attitude and emotions. He was a pleasant man in any case. "No, really---I get it," she said. "No hot-dogs."
"The base cafeteria does not usually feature meat-products, due to storage and preservation issues with importation from Earth, and also the inability of the base here to produce any meat products of our own, like chicken or fish," said Bojji.
"That's the other reason," Vinces added.
"I don't really like hot-dogs anyway," Karen said. "You know, the nitrates they use. Unless they're organic."
They seemed to pause in the small-talk. "Well, nice to meet you," Vince's said. "Let's just hope those dick-heads in Russia and the Islamic-Hindu Space-Program Alliance don't figure they'll be gobbling us up here at the base like a handy little inter-planetary snack, in the near future, in anticipation of any meteors out there. Know what I mean??"
They both nodded. Everyone pretty much already knew about the approaching asteroid, and fears about the Russian-Islamic Space-Program. Even on Mars, it was a cold topic.
"Nice to meet you, too," Karen said.

---Julian Phillips
Dec. 29, 2009