AMICITAS FLIGHT THREE – MISSION DAY 403
ARES III SOL 396
If Fireball’s knuckles hadn’t already been white, they would have turned that color permanently.
Navigating the Martian terrain with what Earth called the “Sirius tandem rover” and what Mark called the Whinnybago had always been planned as a team effort. Mark and Starlight crammed into Rover 2 at the front, Mark driving the whole assembly and Starlight coordinating everyone else. Cherry, Spitfire and Dragonfly scouted ahead, picking out the most level route, moving smaller obstacles to smooth the journey, and warning the drivers of things too big to move. And in the trailer- the unholy union of Rover 1 and the gutted airtight remains of Amicitas- Fireball sat in the pilot seat and steered the modified nose gear that held up what was now the tail end of the whole thing.
Simple plan, in practice. But Sirius 5, the first proper test-drive of the whole mess under load, proved anything but simple.
The first problem, of course, was balance. The improvised trailer was a bit taller than Rover 2 with a vastly higher center of gravity. The suspension which might have helped keep that load level was taxed to half again its rated limit, leaving the lumbering trailer to rock alarmingly when going over any rock or uneven spot, no matter how minor. That ride alone made Fireball want to leave the pilot seat, go into the hab deck, find a cabinet, and crawl inside to cry until the moving stopped. Not that he would admit it to anyone.
The second problem was perspective. For reasons of stability and basic engineering, Amicitas had been mounted back to front on Rover 1, which meant Fireball’s windows faced directly behind the tandem rover. He couldn’t see a bucking thing. He had to rely on the chatter on the suit comms for guidance or warnings, and those warnings hadn’t been timely most of the time. Mark was only slowly learning that he had to keep up a running commentary on his own driving for Fireball’s benefit.
And the final problem was direction. Fireball had to steer the nose gear because the large rover wheels mounted on the stump of Amicitas’s former landing gear wouldn’t turn by themselves. There was just too much weight and too much mechanical gearing in the way for them to pivot loosely. However, since the cockpit faced backwards, the directions for the gear likewise got reversed. When Mark was turning left, Fireball had to turn right to keep the two rearmost wheels in the same arc as the other eight. When he got it wrong, the nose gear wheels would dig into the soil, and the whole thing would shudder and jolt from the drag.
Example:
“Okay, Fireball, prepare for right turn in three, two, one, right turn.”
Fireball, not yet used to the reverse logic of his new piloting configuration, turned his flight yoke to the right.
The whole assembly shook like a volcano about to burp as the nose gear wheels dug in, and the Whinnybago ground to a stop.
“What the fuck, Fireball?” Mark asked. “I said I was turning right.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. My bad.” Fireball reversed the cant of the wheels. “Fixed it, go ahead.”
“Okay.” The rover very, very gradually began moving forward. “Straighten up.” That was easily enough done, although Fireball’s slight overcorrection caused a rocking in the trailer that made Fireball think, with no fondness at all, of one of his rougher rocket flights.
“Okay, Fireball,” Mark continued, “get ready to turn slightly left.”
“Left. Got it.” Fireball wasn’t going to get it wrong twice in a row, so closely together.
“Slight left in three, two, one.”
Fireball eased the flight yoke to the right.
Drag, shudder, judder, stop.
“FIREBALL!” Mark shouted. “I said turn left!”
“I DID!”
“No, you didn’t! I was turning right so I told you to turn left, but you turned right!”
“You said get ready for slight left turn!”
“That’s not what I said!”
“Yes it was!!”
And so on.
After an hour of this, Fireball’s nerves were shot. Every bump, every pebble made the rover feel like it was going to turn turtle and crush Fireball underneath it, despite the fact that he knew any pressure vessel that stood up to a belly-flop onto a rocky surface at close to three hundred meters per second wasn’t going to just go squish from flopping onto its side. Two out of three attempts to turn the Whinnybago resulted in a bungle or a missed communication- they hadn’t put two successful maneuvers together yet- and the confusion and frustration had the dragon’s head swimming.
And then there was the temperature- a blazing 15 degrees positive Centigrade outside, sweltering for Mars, and pre-heated Equestrian air blowing from the life support unit inside, mixed with the heat from the RTG in the habitat deck. For Fireball it was fine, but he wondered what it was doing to the others. Hopefully at least part of the frustration, fear, and confusion was somebody else’s fault. Blame the heat. Yeah.
“Braking.” Slowly, carefully, the Whinnybago came to a smooth stop- nothing like the earthquakes caused by Fireball’s accidents.
“Okay,” Mark said quietly, “this isn’t working. We’ve only gone fifteen kilometers, but we’ve used up forty percent of the battery charge. And until we learn how to drive this thing properly, we can’t tell if that’s because of the weight or because we keep fucking up directions.”
“Yeah,” Fireball agreed. “So?”
“I think I have an idea for the steering,” Mark said. “But it’ll take a day to implement, so we might as well go back to the Hab and recharge.”
“Good for me.”
“I figure we’re half a kilometer south of the road to Site Epsilon,” Mark said. “We’ll turn north, hit that, and head home.” Unlike the three crevasses they’d slowly navigated, the track the rover had made going back and forth to the cave farm had left ramps in and out of the gullies much smoother and more gradual from wear. On one ascent the nose wheels had threatened to dig in while the rear wheels of the Rover 1 chassis had left the ground entirely.
“Sounds good,” Starlight Glimmer said over the comms. “Cherry, you copy?”
“I copy and agree,” Cherry Berry said. “It’ll take us a couple of minutes to get back to you.”
“No problem. The ground here is clear enough to turn around.” Mark paused, then added, “Fireball, I’m going to turn hard left. Be ready to turn hard right when I say so.”
Fireball could have grumbled about how Mark was talking down to him again, but he didn’t. Obviously a little talking down was necessary, considering how things had gone. Besides, they were headed back, and he wouldn’t slow that down for anything.
“Roger,” he said. “Ready I turn right, you turn left.”
The remaining instructions were just as didactic and annoying, but they worked. The Whinneybago drove the five actual kilometer distance back to the Hab without any more juddering and with only the occasional drunken wobble.
Fireball spent the rest of the day by himself, saying nothing. If he talked, he might babble. If he babbled, he might admit to being scared out of his mind, angry beyond words, completely unwilling to get back in that seat.
And he couldn’t do that. Steering the rear wheels was a vital job, and it was the only job he could do on the trip.
And Fireball was more afraid of being useless, and being seen as useless, than he was of anything the horrible kludge of a trailer could throw at him.
MISSION LOG – SOL 396
Sirius 5 aborted after one hour. It’s obvious we need more practice driving.
One problem is that the trailer is too long. On a steep descent the nose gear at the back lifts off the ground. On a similar ascent it tries to strike oil while the trailer’s middle wheels leave the ground and spin uselessly, leaving only six powered wheels to get twenty-plus tons of load up and out. There’s nothing we can do about that except seek out the absolute shallowest path we can find and avoid any serious crevasses.
Another problem is the top-heaviness of the load on the trailer. It’s not as bad as it feels- the wheel base on the trailer is considerably wider than the alien ship hull- but it still cuts down on efficiency when it rocks back and forth hard enough to make Rover 2’s rear wheels lose traction. We’re obviously going to have to be damn careful about quick turns, or quick anything to be honest.
But the biggest problem we had today was that Fireball and I couldn’t agree on a comms protocol for steering this pushmi-pullyu monstrosity we’ve built. Fortunately, I have an idea to fix that, which I’ll finalize once I’ve taken a look at the pony ship’s flight controls to remind myself of how they’re built.
If I remember correctly, the pilot flight yoke is mounted with a steering wheel, or sort of like one, that rocks back and forth. That’s meant to steer the forward landing gear on the ground after landing. And since all the other control systems have either been stripped off or removed from the ship, that’s its only remaining function. If that’s how it works, then I have a simple solution.
Tomorrow we’ll do an EVA with me on the ground outside while Fireball is steering the ship wheel. Beforehand I will mount a half-circle bit of outer hull scrap metal behind the wheel and make a pointer to show how far the wheel deviates from straight and square. Fireball will then turn the wheel, and while I measure how far the wheel deflects the landing gear wheels outside, Starlight Glimmer will mark the point on the half-circle so that the pointer will indicate which wheel positions produce what deflection. We’ll then repeat the process with Rover 2 and its front wheels.
The genius here is this: on the pony ship end of things, everything left of zero (zero being wheels straight) will be minus such-and-so degrees, and everything right of zero will be plus such-and-so. But on the rover steering wheel, the gauge will show left of zero as positive and right of zero as negative. The one will be the mirror of the other.
No more fucking around with “My left! No, your left! No, your OTHER left!” I will call out a number, plus or minus, and Fireball will put the pointer on that number. Doing it this way, the rear wheels will line up with the quad-steer system every single time. It can't do anything different.
We’ll have to practice again before we attempt another electric charge test, but I think this will solve our biggest problem.
I haven’t told Fireball about my brainstorm yet. He’s off by himself, sulking, and Dragonfly says he really wants to be alone. He’ll probably be over his hissy fit by morning. That’s soon enough to tell him.
(I shouldn’t say ‘hissy fit’. ‘Hissy’ is probably racist to reptiles.)
Poor Fireball. At least nothing blew up or broke.
9084173
Now you've done it...
9084173
...yet.
This isn't as hard as it looks when done properly, and Fireball is fully capable of learning to steer backwards. I managed to get in the right mindset after roughly five seconds, so he'll get it quickly enough, but trying to switch between left and right facing forward and left and right facing backward was a recipe for disaster. Just have them agree that when Mark says left, Fireball turns right, and vice versa. The idea with the positive negative gauge is cool, but completely unnecessary after roughly two sentences's worth of clear communication.
9084202
Makes us wonder what the extra-long firetruck protocols are like. The point gauge will work, generally, but sometimes intelligence is required...
9084245
Perhaps flexibility in instruction interpretation is more a mammal thing? Ponies and stink monkies can do it just fine. Char lizard might hear instruction do instruction left is left. Etc. And switching to normal just muddles it more.
9084345 Except he got it right the second time, only for Mark to switch it around on him. That's the line I quoted. Fireball oriented himself to face forward, Mark oriented himself to face backward, and the exact same problem happened all over again.
so the Whinnybago is oddly shaped and installed. question is, is it Dr. Seuss weird , studio Ghibli weird, or regular weird? :D
This is interesting. I figured with many of the original problems from the boom solved - bad terrain solved by scouting, dust storm and navigation solved by radio contact with Hermes/NASA, the trip would be even more boring and event-less.
But with the much odder and heavier load + plus the possibility of a global dust storm, there may yet be a great many things to expect.
I wonder if the crew will use some mana to electric conversion to survive a storm...
9084350
Hmmmmmm fair enough. I concede my point. One debate schmeckle shall be credited.
At least its not a MOXY, where the wheels on both ends of the vehicle are fixed and you steer by flexing the vehicle in the middle, or a Terex, where the steering is a time of displacement angle design. You press right, and the hydraulics keep turning the wheels to a greater angle right till you neutral the controls, then they stay at that angle until you return the wheels to straight on by using the controls to the left to spin the wheels left. Maybe think of it as an electric motor strapped to the normal steering wheel without a freewheel or autocentre. You move a Lot more slowly, but youre moving alot more gear.
indicators are always good, its a second visual communication line for when your mind gets stuck in the infinite cabbage fields of Sto Lat or Scunthorpe.
9084245
I agree that the depicted instance of confusion was entirely on Mark's head. You don't switch your communications around 180° without informing the recipient and just expect them to pick it up from your vague choice of wording – in a language they're not particularly fluent in.
However, the precise gauge is still a worthwhile idea, since it will introduce some much needed precision in their synching of the wheel directions. No more "slight left," and "hard right" and having to gauge by trial-and-error whether his "slight left" means a medium right and his "hard right" an extreme left for Fireball (or vice versa). The only problem with this plan is purely psychological. After this Sol, there is no way that Fireball will see this as anything but patronising, and even if that weren't the case, taking every last bit of personal judgement out of his designated job and reducing him basically to a voice-controlled piece of machinery isn't going to do wonders for his mood.
So, why isn't Fireball, the EVA specialist and frickin' dragon, out front in a suit on "Move shit out of the way" duty?
Or, you could rig some turn signals on the dash boards and have Fireball steer in the direction of the lights, and concentrate on balance counter-steering...
9084245
I disagree, it is very necessary to be able to communicate how much left or right he has to steer. Kind of reminds me of the markers on rally car steering wheels that allow driver and navigator to communicate.
This chapter makes me wonder about how these landing wheels work.
Purely mechanical? Controlling it with a flight stick would require superhuman strength. And probably to prone to failure on a long trip.
Hydrolics? Powered by what?
Magic? And it still works?
Electrical, fly by wire?
None of the above?
9084390
Im guessing because of the heat issue inside the trailer. He's the only one who could stay comfortable with sweltering heat for extended periods of time while maintaining enough attention to keep up with the steering.
9084437
Well, this is Mars. Global warming does not effect it yet. If anything that Rover would be freezing cold.
Why couldn't mark grow a brain and instead of using relative terms like left and right do the proper thing and just use starboard and port. That way they both turn starboard or both turn port and communicating is both easier and non-condescending.
Not sure but it might be racist against changelings as well.
I hope the new steering system works.
9084245
I respectfully disagree. They've established that the Whinnybago is posing some serious handling problems anyway, so anything that can make more precise control possible is definitely welcome
Really liking Mark’s idea, it’s innovative and resourceful
So weird to see them on test drives after so long. And fifteen km is good going!
9084442
The chapter explicitly states that under the current unseasonal (unnatural?) temperatures, plus warm air from Equestria, plus the RTG, the cabin is pretty sweltering.
Just install the controls backwards. :B
9084506
Consider me corrected. Somehow missed that whole paragraph. Well, at least it's an easy fix, just let them know to turn off the air pre-heater.
9084454
Because they'd still run into the issue of "Port, no MY port!" Port and Starboard are just left and right in regards tot he ship. It wouldn't solve the communication error they're having.
This number system he's invoking has the numbers reversed on the Whinnybago so that if Mark calls out "-5" he'll be able to turn 5 degrees left while Fireball will turn 5 degrees right. So they'll be able to align their steering properly. At least that's how I understand it.
I thought Mark's solution was going to be an automatic remote control linked to his steering wheel, so that turns he made would directly control the Amicitas wheel. Mythbusters could do it.
9084516
Nah, port and starboard are in relation to the vehicle, so no matter which way you're facing port is the same direction. That would have been a good idea, but Mark's plan is more precise anyway.
9084390
Because he's a biped. The ponies can move easier EVA because of their 4 legs and low center of gravity.
9084454
Because Fireball probably doesn't know those words and Mark doesn't want to teach him because he's afraid of being condescending.
I do like the precision of Mark's method. Yes, clearer communication protocols could help, but the numerical factor removes the whole "How slight is slight?" issue.
That said, they may want to get Fireball to open up about his post-traumatic steering disorder sooner rather than later.
9084434 Electrically powered hydraulics, mostly built into the nosecone of Amicitas, which survived the crash.
9084442 The hottest daytime high ever recorded by probes on Mars was 30 degrees Celsius. The outdoor temp mentioned in this chapter is 15 Celsius (about 60 Fahrenheit). The air coming from Equestria is a few degrees hotter than that, and then throw in the RTG. The problem will solve itself soon- we're getting close to Mars's autumn equinox in-story- but for today it's decidedly uncomfortable inside.
9084454 9084557 Port and starboard are still relative, when you have a vessel with two bows and no stern.
9084549 Leaving aside the parts issue, remember how many times it went wrong on Mythbusters?
9084390 Fireball will get over it. He mostly blames Mark for the communications fubar in the first place, so if Mark comes up with a fix, that's OK by him. Besides, Mark can see what's in front and he can't, and the pilot who can actually see what's going on gets priority.
First thing that came to my mind was…
some how i have a feeling this is only the first of a long list of problems.
9084872
Yup, next thing you know fireball’s complaining that he didn't get side mirrors, Starlight torn between wanting to use more magic while wanting to preserve it, Firefly secretly snacking from the batteries, Mark deleting all disco in the great disco purge of sol 410, and Cherry smuggling one of her trees in Marks spare space suit.
9084909
funny i can see all of that happening.
Poor Fireball. Drake can't catch a break.
9084713
Just for fun, I recorded this chapter's Fireball lines.
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/450571904462618624/474678546317443112/Sol_396_Fireball_lines.mp3
Jesus Mark, you asshole. And idiot. And jerk. Fireball didn't deserve to be yelled at and then have his stress mocked.
9084350
Because neither of them verbalized that they were changing. It's like when two people do the step left, step right, step left dance trying to not run into each other.
9084909 Don't forget Spitfire wearing an eyepatch and using the very last sample label to make a Black Spot to give to Cherry Berry...
9085544 Stress and miscommunication have one critical thing in common: they both build on themselves in a snowball effect.
9084909 9086189
You both forgot Dragonfly horking up enough goo to make a peg leg out of the remains of Starlight’s splint.
I work with airiel work plate forms /scissor lifts and the protocol for movement is very simple like someone mentioned port and starboard but even easier blue and orange arrows the lift has blue arrows on the port and forward side and orange arrows on the starboard and rear side the controls have the same idea so you don’t have to focus on orientation when you are not facing correct driving direction it could work like this( okay fireball blue turn 15 degrees hold that for 10 seconds, okay orange turn coming up hard at 45 degrees)
Alondro has a brilliant solution to the problem of Mars terrain.
"They just need to build a highway out in front of them! Then it'll be a smooth ride the whole way!"
Truly, Alondro possesses a staggering intellect.
9087165
Yes, truly. The logistics surely can't be a problem. Let's just magic everything away!
Aww, poor Fireball.
Man, barely feeling like you're pulling your weight is a sucky enough feeling when not in a life or death situation. Can't imagine what it be like after a year in a tin-can, living of rocks & potatoes.
I really feel like all this "talking down" nonsense is just forced drama. No matter which way I slice it, there is no way to interpret what Mark said here as talking down to Fireball. Mark is trying to be as clear and concise as he can possibly be, which is what he'd need to do even if Fireball knew perfect English. This is an old comment on an older chapter, but it feels to me like Fireball and Spitfire just have a problem with authority when Mark is giving directions or trying to clarify, and that is built upon their own frustrations of communication since, out of all the Equestrian castaways, they can't speak English as well as Starlight, Dragonfly, and even Cherry can.
Less a criticism and more of a "this stuff annoys me because it doesn't make sense" rant. Amazing story as always.
9084713
Sorry to resurrect this. Just pitching in a useless hindsight comment. Port or Starboard on a vessel are always on the same respective side of the vessel, regardless of the orientation of the person on it (as are bow and stern) - the direction is relative to the vessel, not the person. Using the attached meter on the steering, Mark could say "Turning port 5 degrees in 3, 2, 1..." and the two drivers would force the whole caravan into the same arc.
This would be a benefit, too, if something Mars-related disabled Mark. Fireball (or someling) could then drive the caravan and somepony else would steer the back half, all using the same system.
I know your thought is/was that there are two vessels, here, but it all makes up "The Whinnybago" or one vessel.
Captain Blondebeard should know this!
Anyway, I'm really enjoying this story.