A Visitor to the Future - 142 - Walking on the Surface of Mars
At Sarkona's direction, the Consortium had guided us to one of the lesser-used airlock areas on the outskirts of Mizcur, reasoning that it was easier to walk me through my first excursion without the hustle and bustle of passers-by. A short escalator trip had led us into a large changing area filled with lockers. Were it not for the stronger smell of regolith and the prominent blue stripe which lined the walls, I could have mistaken it for the changing room of a gym. As we walked through the room I tried to find a window, though with the inner door of the closest airlock sealed shut there wasn't anything to see right now.
"Compared to your standard space hardsuit, you should expect Mars EV suits to be less bulky," Sarkona explained, "After all, you're expected to walk and run in them comfortably, so don't expect the shell-like plates. It'll be lighter too, without a thruster array, oh, and no radiator either. I don't know the exact weight figures, and it's 0.3g, so my sense of mass is all off. Better to ask the Consortium if you want the weight difference."
"Why wouldn't you need a radiator on Mars?" I asked, "Isn't it cold?"
"They're super bulky to carry around on the surface of a planet - and a radiator keeps you cool... wait, is this an English thing again? What's a radiator to you?"
"A heater. You know, like the ones in our house on Earth?"
"Ah - when we're talking about space and spacesuits, a radiator is something that radiates heat out into space - it gets rid of it."
In the early days of our friendship, there had been moments of English misunderstanding, as Sarkona was fluent but by no means a native speaker. Sarkona had often used the phrase 'what is it to you?' to help clarify things. I said as much, remarking that it was an interesting turnaround, Sarkona correcting my English.
"I've got you to thank for all the practice," they said, "Anyway, my point is they are much easier to move around in - and, as you'll see, a lot easier to get into."
I was relieved at that. As part of our safety drills on the Boiling Point, I'd needed to practice getting into a hardsuit quickly and without mechanical assistance. It was not easy. Still, I'd never been outside in one before.
"Here we are," said Sarkona, indicating a fabricator built into the wall and tapping their details into a keyboard, "Your measurements will be the same as the hardsuit - it's only been a night, so no need to get re-measured. What color do you want?"
With the relevant details submitted, the fabricator went through the motions of assembling our suits. The assembly process completed in less than a minute - but a further two minutes were required for testing the suits. Sarkona checked the readouts of the tests while I took the less precise approach of watching the process through a window in the machine. Mechanical arms and implements tugged, rubbed, stabbed and even heated the fabric, before subjecting them to pressure tests. Finally, my dark grey EV suit and helmet were deposited into the tray in front of me. Sarkona had opted for a light purple color with yellow highlights. They looked more like thick wetsuits than spacesuits.
"First assembly tests are always a little time consuming," Sarkona said, "The internal sensors are enough to pick up on most faults post-production. People don't want to go through this every time they go out - which hopefully explains the lockers around you. Those are reserved for the permanent residents here."
I leaned over my suit and took a little time to inspect it. It had been deposited into the tray flat, in a relaxed snow-angel position. Bulkier sections wrapped around the waist and thighs, with large and loose zip-up pockets positioned on top of each, like the sort someone might see on combat fatigues. There were several bubbles of material also positioned at several points around the body, including a prominent one next to the neck, right below the what I assumed was the helmet seal. As I reached down to pick the suit up, I found it far heavier and even thicker than I expected - pinching a section of the fabric near the neck showed it was at least a fingertip in width. The material was rigid in my hands, and seemed intent on staying in the position it was in. I rubbed my fingers over the surface, finding it surprisingly smooth - almost like the skin of a reptile. Certain areas also seemed to be reinforced - the shoulders, elbows, knees and shins were a slightly darker color. With no other choice, I balanced it across my forearms and started in the direction of the airlock, helmet balanced precariously across the torso.
Sarkona laughed behind me, and as I turned around to see what was funny, I saw them picking up their own suit and easily draping it over one arm.
"I suggest you try your neural link," said Sarkona, "Or ask the Consortium to make it relax!"
I did so, voicing my request aloud. The suit grew limp, draping over my arms. I grabbed a handful of the material and found it more pliable. "How?" I asked, laughing myself.
Sarkona smiled, "Almost every trick in the Consortium's book is in these suits. Its circulatory system helps to distribute heat and respond to damage, it can recycle air for up to ten minutes without an EV pack in an emergency, and there's both traditional circuitry and a nervous system working in parallel. The material itself is grown through a masterful piece of biodev so that it is near-seamless. It hardens in response to impacts, and you can use its artificial muscle fibers to provide motion assistance, if you want it to - though it's not designed to fully augment your movements. Oh, and, it can do this."
Sarkona's suit brightened, taking on a bioluminescent quality. I was reminded of glow in the dark paint, or of a jellyfish.
"And that's just the standard model!" Sarkona finished, "It's super easy to gush about these suits if you're a biodev. I know Tungsten loves them. He's written three different papers about them, and only one of them was part of his studies."
"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm still getting over how my suit apparently has a pulse. A circulatory system, right?"
"Oh, you won't notice it when you put it on," said Sarkona, "The heartbeat is barely noticeable."
"You're kidding me?"
"Yes, I am. It uses an open circulatory system, like arthropods do. No heartbeat."
I shook my head in disbelief, "So you're essentially telling me that this suit was grown, not made? It's alive?"
Sarkona wobbled their head in response, "Only in the same way that a potato is alive. And yes, some of it was grown, with the rest added after the growing - especially the electronics. Behind the fabricator will be a tank where this membrane is cultured. Is that so hard to believe? I know you've been learning about some industrial processes that use biodev. This is simply one of the most advanced examples that the Consortium can produce at this time. It's just another means of producing complex products."
I sighed. "I've been mostly reading about how the Consortium produces food and refines chemicals using biodev. Things like Ashworth Guts and so on. I just started reading about how biodev is used in the production of fabrics last week. This feels like it's at least a few years above my reading level."
"Consider it motivation to study then!" said Sarkona jovially, before turning serious for a moment, "If you're not comfortable with the idea of wearing it, we could fabricate a traditional suit for you."
I shook my head, "No, it's fine! It'll just take some getting used to."
Sarkona raised an eyebrow, "I'm not so sure! These suits are so well-used for a reason. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Follow me?"
We headed over to some changing booths to put on our suits. True to Sarkona's word, they were in fact much easier to get into, even in the small, individual changing spaces. I was only slightly distubred to find out this was because the suit manipulated itself to do so, compressing and expanding to easily fit over the shoulders. The suit knitted itself together across the back, forming a snug but comfortable fit. I experimentally flexed and stretched, finding that the suit only slightly restricted my movement despite its weight and thickness. It felt surprisingly natural.
"Make sure you try turning the assist off!" shouted Sarkona from their booth.
I did so, and found that my movement was stiffer and the suit felt less limber. It was particularly noticable when bending over or trying - and failing - to touch my toes. It was a strange experience - the assist had felt natural, and the lack of assist unnatural. I'd expected the opposite to be true.
Sarkona's helmet was already on, and they helped me to secure mine. The front of the helmet was round and transparent, providing a full range of vision. The rear was opaque and came to a tapered slope with two slots for the life support pack hoses. The pack itself was quite small - the size of a small backpack, which you wore in exactly the way you would expect, with two straps over the shoulders. You could even take it off and put it down next to you if you wanted - the hoses would pull out and retract into the pack as you needed. A third hose connected to the back of the suit itself.
"Safety information - these packs are rated for eight hours of rebreathing," said Sarkona, voice transmitted clearly to me, while pointing out the relevant features on my suit, "With ten minutes of emergency air in addition to the extra ten that your suit can provide. There's also batteries in the pack which will power the suit's electronics, with a maximum capacity of one hour of strenuous use of all suit functions - but the Consortium will resupply that wirelessly. In the event that you lose power or your life support pack stops functioning, as long as it is safe to do so, sit down, remain still and calm, focus on your breathing and wait for rescue. If that happens your suit will begin pulsing like mine did earlier - don't be alarmed, that's just so you draw the eye better!"
I nodded.
"An alarm in your suit will sound three and a half hours from when you seal your helmet. If you hear that, don't panic! It's just to remind you that you have four and a half hours to get back to a pressurised environment, or to pick up another life support pack outside. Following that, the alarm will sound every half an hour. If you get to thirty minutes left, the Consortium will automatically send a rescue drone. Make sense?"
"Yes, sounds... safe?"
"Extremely," said Sarkona, "Especially in our case - I would be amazed if we do more than three kilometers today. But these are the default suit settings for a good reason."
"So... idiot-proof?" I offered.
Sarkona laughed, "I'd prefer to say safety-cautious, but that works!"
"Today," I said, "I am the idiot."
"The first step to doing something well is doing something poorly. You'll be super fine!" Sarkona circled me to do a final check of my suit, "Remember, most people do what we did today just like putting on a pair of shoes. Let's go for a walk."
We stepped forward and the interior door of the airlock parted before us, revealing a dusty room with two benches by either wall. There was a window in here, but it only looked onto a greyish, dust-covered floor and another building across from us.
I suddenly realised that I was nervous.
"You can cycle the airlock with this panel," said Sarkona, indicating a square labelled ENGAGE in Human on the wall, "If the Consortium gets the impression anyone or anything is unsafe in the airlock, it will pulse red. Would you like to press it?"
I gulped and nodded, reaching out a padded index finger and poked the display, which did not pulse red. If I'd been expecting the atmosphere to dramatically hiss and steam like in the movies I had seen, I would have been sorely disappointed. It would have been hard to notice anything was changing at all had Sarkona, whose voice now carried clearly into my helmet, not prompted me to wave my arm back and forth. As the next minute passed, I thought I felt it become gradually easier to move my arm, though with the thick suit on I could easily have been imagining it.
Then the door opened in front of us.
We stepped out together, and I looked around, noticing that the sun was shining. On instinct I held a hand up to shield my eyes, and was greeted by the sensation of my arm colliding with my helmet. Then I realised that the action had been completely unnecessary, as the helmet automatically tinted itself to filter out harmful rays.
I looked out to the left, seeing for the first time that we were in front of a large staircase and ramp leading down to a large garden - not filled with plants, but rocks and sculptures, some painted, some plain. Around it spiralled grey pathways, connecting smaller buildings and the various airlocks that connected to Mizcur. From our elevated position, the structures continued for a short distance, after which, the complex opened up onto martian flats that spanned for miles, basking in the light of the sun - the same one I'd always known, but now much more distant. Some kind of vehicle was visible in the far distance, kicking up dust.
To my right, the space elevator, impossibly tall, stretching up and out of sight. A titanic construction I was familar with from my time in Anchor, strange to see in such a different surrounding.
To my left, Mars. And wandering around, inspecting the sculptures, chatting, playing games, shopping, tinkering, or just enjoying a walk, were people.
As I took another step forward, I found myself speaking aloud, "That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind."
Sarkona smiled, and added, "As children, we learn to crawl, then step, then walk. With this next step onto a new world, humanity finds its feet - together, we will run among the stars."
"That's nice," I said, "Who said that?"
"Hilde Eriksa. Those were the first words spoken on the surface of Mars."
I looked out at the view, trying to take it all in. Even though I was wrapped up in a suit and helmet, there was something a lot more real about it than my view from the space elevator. It felt like I was finally here. Mars was now something that I could reach out and touch with my own padded hands.
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