Orphans of Apollo - S2 E14
September 2056
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Previously: the crew have their first evening meal together in the hab. They discuss the upcoming expeditions and decide that Pieter should go along as additional help. Things turn tense when Pieter questions Lana’s decision making during the landing accident.
Brant snapped the locking ring on his right-hand glove shut. He had found it easier to put the glove on his good hand first, then use the gloved hand to pick up the solid mitten and ease his left hand into it. He also couldn’t close the locking mechanism with the mitten, so this was really the only way to do it without assistance, and today he had none. The regulations for EVAs allowed for solo activities but only within 100 metres of the hab. During this time, the solo astronaut had to check in regularly with the hab. This essentially allowed a single person to move between the hab and the greenhouse, supplies stores and the rovers.
Because of his injury, Lana had denied Brant solo EVAs. They had been at the base for a week now, and Brant had conducted several EVAs accompanied by one or more of the others. This was normally Zawadi and Pieter, as he showed them how to operate the drill rig used for collecting the ice core samples. These EVAs had gone without issue, so he and Pieter had finally persuaded Lana to allow him to do solo EVAs. It was a small thing, but Brant was thrilled to have his independence. It also meant he could head out to the greenhouse to visit Joanna without having to take someone with him. He enjoyed doing that.
With his mitten clipped into place, he was ready to go outside. He closed his visor and pressed the control to cycle the airlock. Although this was only an analogue, a pressure differential existed because the hab was at approximately 10,000ft above sea level on the Antarctic Plateau, while the inside pressure was maintained at standard sea level pressure of 1013 hPa; therefore, the outside atmospheric pressure was about one third less. Brant watched the digital pressure readout drop until it matched the value for outside. There was a pause and the light next to the handle for the outside door changed from red to green. He opened the door and headed out onto the ice. It was only a short twenty metre walk to the greenhouse, but it was just nice to be outside. Alone.
When he entered the greenhouse airlock he was disappointed to see a second helmet on the rack, then he saw Zawadi through the window of the inner door. I thought she had gone out to the rover to check some things before the first expedition. The airlock finished its cycle and he opened the inner door.
“I thought you could use an extra pair of hands,” he said as he stepped through into the greenhouse.
“I don’t know about a pair of hands. That’s a little optimistic, isn’t it?” said Joanna without looking up from the leaf she was examining.
“Very funny. I can actually do pretty much everything with this cast on.”
“Well, you can start by passing me that chlorophyll metre on the bench there.”
The greenhouse was fifteen metres long and five metres wide. Constructed as a tunnel with a half cylinder cross section, it had one airlock at the end closest to the hab. Just inside the airlock on the right was a workbench and lab equipment. Down the centre was a walkway, either side of which were racks of plants. Some on trays stacked on top of each other and some on round towers. Opposite the lab equipment just inside the doorway were the life support systems for the greenhouse. From here, the atmospheric conditions could be precisely controlled. It also controlled the flow of water and nutrients to the various plant beds.
“Chlorophyll metre…chlorophyll metre,” Brant muttered as he searched the lab bench.
“It’s rectangular shaped with a kind of a clamp sticking out the top,” said Joanna, “should be on the shelf above the bench next to the label that says chlorophyll metre.”
Funny that. Brant grabbed it off the shelf. “Original place to keep it.” He walked down the aisle towards where Joanna and Zawadi were examining a particular plant. The trays seemed to be grouped into different species, and within each species there were plants at different stages of growth. Some looked a lot healthier than others.
“So this one is not modified at all then?” asked Zawadi.
“Nope. It’s as near to God’s creation as you can get.”
“It doesn’t seem to be doing as well as some of the others,” said Zawadi, inspecting the surrounding trays.
“It’s not doing too badly, it’s just the genetically modified ones develop a lot faster,”
Brant handed the chlorophyll metre to Joanna. “Thank you, my humble one handed assistant.” He ignored her.
Joanna took the metre and placed one of the leaves gently between the clamp and squeezed it softly. She waited for a few seconds, then picked up her tablet and noted down the reading.
“About as expected.”
“Those don’t look too good,” said Brant, pointing to some drooping leaves.
“No, some won’t. We are experimenting with some plants which have different genetic modifications and some which do not. There are also beds which are getting different amounts of nutrients.”
“My Mum was quite a gardener back home in Nairobi, but I didn’t really pay much attention.”
“Yeah, my Mum was a really keen gardener back in England. I used to love helping her when I was a little girl.”
“Guess that’s why this is your baby then,” said Brant. “So what are we actually growing here?”
“Well these, as I’m sure you can recognise, are lettuces.” Joanna gestured behind her. “Those are potatoes.”
There was a soft tone in Brant’s ear from the earpiece he was still wearing. “Brant, you still listening out?” came Pieter’s voice over the radio.
Brant pushed a radio control on his wrist. “Sorry man, I’m over here all good. Just getting a botany lesson.”
“I can see that out the window, but you know the rules. You got to check in. Don’t want anyone to change their mind about going out on this expedition, do we?”
“No. Sorry.”
“All good mate, I got your back. Enjoy the company over there.” Brant rolled his eyes.
“The genetically engineered ones really are doing a lot better, aren’t they?” said Zawadi.
“Yeah, even the ones in the harsher environment with restricted nutrition,” said Joanna. “I don’t think we are going to have any problems growing food in Lunar regolith.”
“It’s really quite incredible,” said Zawadi flatly, a far-off look in her eye.
Joanna continued to take readings from the leaves of the other plants in the bed. She moved onto the next with Brant in tow.
“You see, these carrots aren’t doing so well. They are unmodified and they are in a bed with reduced nutrients.”
“Unlucky,” said Brant as he gently brushed one of the drooping discoloured leaves.
Joanna carried on taking measurements. After a few more, she looked up to Brant, who was watching her intently, then shifted her gaze past to where Zawadi was still staring into the distance. Brant turned to see what Joanna was looking at.
“You ok Zawadi?” he said. No response.
“What’s up Zawadi?” said Joanna.
Zawadi snapped out of her trancelike state and looked across at them with a sudden turn of her head. “Oh, nothing.”
“That’s not nothing, you were totally out to it,” said Brant.
“I was just thinking…oh no, never mind, it’s ok.”
“Come on, you can’t do that to us,” said Brant.
Joanna gently put her hand on Brant’s arm in a motion as if she was going to pull him back.
“Zawadi, if something is bothering you, you should talk about it.”
Zawadi looked away. “It’s nothing, really.” She looked back at them. “It’s just…”
“Would you rather just the two of us talked?”
Brant looked at Joanna, feigning offence.
“No, it’s ok. It’s just you talking about these genetically engineered plants made me think of something I have had going around in my head for a while now.”
“Go on,” Joanna said softly.
“Please don’t say anything to the others. I don’t want them to think I’m crazy.”
“Of course.” Joanna looked at Brant and locked eyes with him.
He held his hands up. “Hey, what happens in the greenhouse stays in the greenhouse.”
Zawadi pulled out the stool from beside the plant bed where she was standing and perched herself on the corner.
“Have you ever thought about the Foundation? I mean really stopped and thought about it?”
“What do you mean?” said Joanna, as she and Brant moved back over to Zawadi. Joanna pulled out another stool and sat next to Zawadi.
“It’s just something is not quite right. Don’t you think?” said Zawadi, a tortured look in her eye. “Do you remember the selection testing to get into the Foundation?”
“That was so long ago. I don’t remember doing the tests, but I can remember my parents telling me I did really well,” said Joanna.
“I don’t think I can remember it at all,” said Brant.
“Exactly. And you probably told your friends about what you were doing. They too wanted to join this wonderful organisation and get to do all these cool and exciting things during the school holidays?”
Brant and Joanna both nodded.
“How many of them got through the selection process?”
Brant shrugged and Joanna sat in silence.
“Exactly. They were probably just as smart and as athletic as you, if not more so. Remember Lana telling us about how she fell out with one of her best friends after she did not get into the Foundation? She was convinced she was much more talented.”
“So you are saying they would never have passed the tests, no matter how good they were?” asked Brant.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She paused, letting her revelation sink in and to catch her breath. Although normally reserved, Zawadi spoke with animation. “And why is that, do you think? There must be something about us.”
“The plants!” exclaimed Joanna. “That’s what you meant.”
Zawadi simply smiled and nodded at Joanna.
“Hang on, I’m not sure I follow,” said Brant.
“Zawadi is saying we have been genetically engineered. We were created by the Foundation. We did not join the Foundation! We were always going to be a part of it. Other kids could never join. The selection processes they ran were just for cover.”
“Hang on though,” said Brant. “If they genetically engineered us, they must have altered our DNA to improve us in some way. Otherwise, what would be the point? Sure, we are all reasonably smart, but we had a good education. We all learned to fly, but some of us really struggled with that. Why do you think Aiden was flying the lander and not me? None of us are Albert Einstein or John Young. I’m not buying it.”
“That’s what I can’t work out and what I have had going around in my head for a while now. I just can’t figure that bit out.”
“What do you think?” asked Brant, turning to Joanna.
“Well, it makes a lot of things make more sense. But…yeah I agree, I can’t immediately see how we are different. But we must be in some way.”
“Maybe we should see what the others think?” said Brant.
“Oh, no please. I don’t want them thinking I am some crazy conspiracy theorist. Plus, it’s bound to get back to Christian at some point. What will he do if he knows we have figured it out?”
“I actually don’t think he would do a lot. If it truly is the case we were created by the Foundation, he must have thought we might figure it out at some point.”
“So you don’t think I’m crazy?”
“No Zawadi,” said Joanna. “I don’t think you are crazy. It feels to me like one of those things you have always known, but it has been there, beneath the surface. If you know what I mean?”
Zawadi visibly relaxed.
“Still, there has to be something different about us. Until we figure that out, I’m not buying it,” said Brant.
“Let’s just keep this between us for now and have a think about how we best deal with it.”
“Ok,” said Zawadi with a gentle sigh of relief.
“Brant.” Joanna shot him a glance.
“Hey. Like I said. What happens in the greenhouse stays in the greenhouse.”
If you know someone you think would enjoy “Orphans of Apollo” or any of the other writing in “Explorations” please share this publication with them.
I hope you enjoyed the latest episode of Orphans of Apollo. As we did a few months ago, we have reached a good place in the story to take a break for a few weeks.
As I said last time we took a break, my intention was to serialise the whole draft in one go. As with most new projects, I usually start with more effort than I can maintain long-term. Working full time with two kids means I need to find a balance. Over season 2 I think I have found the happy medium and know what level I can sustain. I just need to resist the temptation to do more, so it can be sustained in the long-term. At the end of the day, that is what matters.
I am also starting to lay the foundations for the second book in the series and need a chance to work on this, if only to give my brain a chance to work on something new for change. After all, we all need a bit of variety.
Thanks to everyone who has been reading the story and to those who have joined over the last season. Knowing that real people are reading my writing is amazing. Orphans of Apollo will be back in a few weeks.
Thanks for reading,
Alex