Author: Rick Tobin
Emeril Ainsley leaned his head forward, studying the finer details of a satellite probe’s scanning transmission. Martian storms were quelled, leaving the target crater clear for deployment.
“We’ve got a go, team. Let’s make it count. One try. One win.” Captain Ainsley alerted those in the control center that the moment had arrived.
A severely pale, short middle-aged man with balding hair shook his head.
“You’re still the doubter, Carmine? A little late for that.” Ainsley made his displeasure clear, tiring of the naysaying of his assigned Moonie weapons advisor.
“We made this monster on my beloved Moon because of fears that if it was transported from Earth, and a rocket failed during ignition, the payload might fry every living thing on any continent below it. Our Moon’s helium-3 resources were supposed to help build faster computers and heal cancer, not create a ten-thousand-megaton planet killer. It’s Teller’s karma to use it.” The room stilled. Carmine played his role of tenth-man advisor as everyone else celebrated with anticipation.
“This isn’t a moment for dawdling,” Ainsley snapped back. “We need Mars for colonization soon, not a hundred years from now. The short half-life of helium nuclides from the Aqua Regia explosion will ensure all those freshwater resources we need for our pioneers’ survival, unlike Musk’s failures fifty years ago. We already tested the potential for this weapon in Antarctica using a revised W48 nuke design. It wrenched up an underground lake to the surface in a day. In two years, we’ll have people using that lake on Earth’s southern pole for further research under a helium-4 glass dome you Moonies built. So what’s your problem?”
All eyes were on the diminutive consultant, while some moved away from his corner, fearing the wrath of their short-tempered leader.
“I understand,” Carmine responded, quietly. “Hellas Planitia has the only crater on Mars already reaching the critical seven-mile depth. It’s the sweet spot. But I also know, that as of this morning, this operation was still without the approval of Chinese, Indian, and Brazilian space authorities. The Mars Treaty promised them parts of this planet. A mistake could damage their future landing sites. We have never tested weapons this large, even in underground shots. There will be no going back if this goes badly.”
“Fine, then you can sit this one out. I don’t want someone nagging at my back. We’re plenty safe in this bunker on this side of Deimos, away from the blast site. Chief, take Carmine to his quarters and keep him there until further ordered.” The security officer moved forward, directing Carmine out of the control room with little resistance.
“Remember,” Carmine yelled back. “They didn’t think TSAR Bomba would destroy tens of miles of the Earth. You’ll be judged, Captain.”
“Not by the Moonies, pal. Your race will still be sitting inside your hollow fortress floating around Earth like ghosts while Mars grows into a superpower. All you are now is a bump on the road to progress.”
Murmuring went through the room as the door closed, shutting off Carmine’s tirade. Light applause followed.
“Enough of the festivities, folks. Time to make the omelet. Let’s crack a few eggs.” The captain turned to his remote control operators flying the weapon satellite over the Southern Hemisphere of the Red Planet. “Let her rip!”