That mental space and sense of self-determination helped relieve the stress that otherwise built up in the tight corridors of not just the bases, but also the procedures and daily work that kept them alive.
And he knew how much that sense of space and control meant, as he already had more of it at his disposal than his men.
In spite of the thought, he ignored the urge to glance at the door behind his desk that led to his private quarters.
Soon enough, all his men would be able to enjoy the rewards of building a new world here on Mars.
In front of him, the video of the impact played out again on his display.
Should they manage to avoid future setbacks.
And that brought him back to his work.
Beijing would wait for him to report, ensuring him and his mission retained their sense of control. Previous personnel on the earliest missions had not reacted well to being micromanaged from afar.
He could understand why.
Some of his longer-serving crew said it was because the first crews knew, deep down, they would never see their home planet again, and so to have their leashes yanked from such a distance over every trivial matter had only planted a seed of resentment.
In time, that seed had sprouted and grown, nurtured not just by nagging instructions and draconian punishments, but by the shortages and accidents inevitable in such a risky undertaking as the colonization of Mars.
Of course, the details of the early troubles were all classified but lived on as folklore. But Tung knew some of the earlier bases had failed. There had been teething problems. An overbearing emphasis on discipline, accidents, madness, and, coincidentally, a previous meteor strike.
An impact just like this one.
For ten years now, a strategy of strict psychological evaluations and careful personnel management had been put into place to not just get the most out of crews, but to ensure a calm environment that encouraged stability at all Martian facilities.
Tung thought their supplement regimen also carried a drug in it to ensure his and his comrades’ docile acquiescence. He knew something had happened before, something grave, although the nuts and bolts details were suppressed and classified well above his security clearance.
Still, he did know of the failed bases.
One had been affected by a meteor impact, another breached due to a simple manufacturing fault in their habitat, while another had supposedly been abandoned by a crew that elected to leave and—unbelievably—go renegade.
Renegade!
That crew had stolen a ground vehicle and stripped the base of gear, before disappearing into a maze of ochre-colored canyons.
He didn’t know if he believed the story, but he had seen more than a few strange reports that confirmed their presence out on the surface.
Rumors also spoke of another squad that had collectively succumbed to hysteria during their mission and decided to try and head back to Earth. Their launcher had fired, but crashed before making orbit.
There were so many stories. It was hard to know which were just rumors or those that might have grown from a seed of truth.
But all that was in the past. He needed to focus on today, on this latest issue.
He was unlikely to get a quick response from Beijing, regardless of whether they found something unusual in the data or recognized the destroyed base was only a secondary ring facility. If it had been Mars Command One or a first ring base, which were now being expanded, things would be different.
So, while he waited for a response, he pondered what he should do now.
Had it just been a meteor strike? It certainly looked to have been.
Natural disasters happened, even here. Last year back on Earth, a major earthquake had caused twenty thousand deaths in Henan, while right now a super typhoon was currently making landfall and blasting the Chinese Philippines Territories. The last such storm had killed ten thousand.
But the chance of a meteor strike destroying one of their Martian bases was pretty small. Probably one in a billion.
One in a billion…
And smaller still since it had already happened only ten years ago.
Statistically, it was probably more likely a rival from Earth was involved, even though there had been no warnings passed on from Beijing.
But still…
What if an external actor was in play?
He knew he did not know all that Beijing Command did, but he had seen enough to know other actors were present. Exception reports indicated unannounced orbiters, while Chinese satellites had discovered a handful of apparent landing sites from unknown ships. There was also the issue of unexpected theft of equipment from several of the unoccupied second ring bases over the past year. The inventory taken, crucial life support supplies, was always lifted before the designated landing squad arrived to inhabit the base the early-stage construction robots had established for the crew.
Of course, there was enough redundancy and backups so that any stolen gear could be done without by new arrivals. Still, the apparent thefts begged the question of just who was out there on the surface.
Could it all be the Renegades?
No one knew. To even enquire about them with Beijing tended to ruin careers.
But if it wasn’t the Renegades, could it be the Russians or Americans?
The Russians were distracted by their civil war. They had done well with their moon bases and nascent lunar mines, but it was too late for them to reach beyond the home planet’s system. They were a people dying from alcoholism, riven by an unchecked epidemic of AIDS, and doomed by old age. Simple demographics would bring the Putinist Kremlin down, if corruption didn’t first.
The Russian decline was why China had already taken great chunks of resource-rich Siberia, the new Northern Territories, and all without firing a shot. Of course, such a transfer of sovereignty came dressed up in talk of negotiated partnerships and long-term leases, but none of that could hide what it really was.
A takeover.
China needed northern land, and not just for resources and food security, but as insurance against the changing climate. Rising sea levels were impacting China’s coastal cities, while the hyper-energized monsoon created havoc with the south and east of the nation annually.
To take territory from the Russians had just required the right words and a lot of money, but also, most importantly, a slow shift to the new reality on the ground before the matter was pressed. Once the Kremlin realized they had already lost control of great swaths of the Russian Far East, Chinese migrant workers outnumbering the Russians, paying the Putinists to accept the reality, while praising their friendship, generosity, and neighborliness, was all that had been needed.
So who else was on Mars?
The Americans?
Washington was still reviving that once great nation after decades of economic decline and too many wars. The new president spoke of dreams and a great future, not just funding NASA properly, but being generous in both budget and aspirational dreams. One day it might threaten Chinese Mars, but the country still had a way to go in its recovery. The Iranian War—The Third Gulf War—had not just drained much of America’s wealth and damaged the economy, but had almost broken the will of its people as their beloved military got bogged down in yet another testing and bloody Middle Eastern conflict.
America was rising again, but they were not ready to reach for Mars.
Not yet.
His comms alert went, showing an incoming direct on the secured line.
Tung accepted it, knowing who would be on the other end. The thought of her soothed him, taking the edge off his concerns. As he spoke, his gaze went to the window, to take in the nighttime view of the surface outside. “Yes?”