Close To Mars

A cutting-edge mechanical marvel, AUT-7 was built to handle all the duties Hank couldn’t manage alone on the long voyage: from patching up dings in the hull caused by stray cosmic rocks to preparing Hank’s freeze-dried dinners. The robot’s gleaming metal shell caught every stray beam of starlight, and its mechanical limbs moved with a quiet assurance that Hank found comforting—until recently.

For the past few days, Hank had noticed AUT-7 pausing strangely in the middle of tasks. The whir of gears was slowing, and once-clear electronic signals began stuttering into static crackles. Yesterday, the robot had spilled reconstituted coffee all over the control console and didn’t seem to recognize the mishap until Hank pointed it out.

“Confound it,” Hank muttered under his breath, fiddling with the rocket’s radio gear. He gave the frequency dial a sharp twist, but the vacuum tube hissed and spat back only a haze of static. “Still no contact from Earth. We’re too far out.” He rapped the console gently as though it might jolt awake. No such luck.

In the silence, the hiss of life support pumps provided a lonely lullaby, a rhythmic counterpart to Hank’s steadily growing worry. Mars was near—just two days of rocket-burn away. AUT-7 might be holding together now, but if the contraption gave out completely, Hank wasn’t sure he had the expertise to pilot the Silver Arrow safely back home.

He turned his attention to the robot standing across the cabin. AUT-7’s single, unblinking eye-lens blinked once, hesitantly. “AUT-7,” Hank called, using the commanding tone he’d practiced on test flights. “Diagnostic check. Report.”

“Systems… functioning…” The reply crackled, and AUT-7’s mechanical jaw clattered as if jammed. “Navigation reading… s-s-stable… hull integrity at… seventy-six percent…”

“Seventy-six?” Hank repeated. A slow dread settled in his gut. “But last week it was at ninety.”

The robot’s eyelight flickered, and it dropped its metal arms, letting a small cluster of spare bolts clink to the deck. Another sign of disrepair. How long before it was completely inoperable? Hank’s lips pressed into a firm line as he thought about the manuals and charts stowed away in the rocket’s cargo hold. Of course, he’d studied enough to manage basic repairs. But if AUT-7 collapsed for good, he wasn’t sure he could handle the weeks of manual tasks that lay ahead—especially on Mars’s surface. One man alone, a planet’s distance from help, was a devilish prospect.

He propelled himself across the low-gravity cabin toward the robot. “Let’s have a look, friend,” he murmured, removing the small ring of tools from his belt. Under the glow of the overhead lamps, Hank carefully unscrewed a panel near AUT-7’s shoulder. A tangle of wires and tubes greeted him—some burned black at the edges. Could cosmic rays have wrought havoc on the poor robot’s circuitry? Possibly. Either way, Hank knew he had to repair the unit before the big landing.

For the next two hours, he delicately replaced fuses the size of nickels, patched singed wires, and even gave the robot’s main processing tube a careful cleaning with a fine brush. Metallic dust drifted about as though the cabin were filled with gleaming confetti.

Finally, Hank tightened the panel shut. His heart pounded with anxious anticipation. “AUT-7, can you hear me?”

The steel caretaker whirred. Its mechanical eyelight steadied, casting a gentle glow. “All systems functioning within normal parameters,” it announced in its old familiar tone.

Relief washed through Commander Braddock. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. With AUT-7 restored—at least for the moment—there was hope yet that he could complete the mission and begin the historic first steps upon Martian soil. Then, if all went well, man and robot, side by side, would guide the Silver Arrow back across the vast star-speckled sea and safely home to Earth.

Mars shone bright and beckoning in the viewport. Commander Braddock allowed himself a small, confident grin. Tomorrow, mankind would claim another frontier. And thanks to a newly mended mechanical companion, Hank was determined to meet this ancient planet head-on—and live to tell the tale.