Name - Bob Cox

July 2010

A fry cook! A lousy stinking fry cook!

I didn’t spend six years at Cal-Tech getting dual degrees in geology and planetary astrophysics so I could be a fry cook. I didn’t sign up for the Mars Endurance Base so I could be a fry cook. I didn’t spend four months freezing my butt off in Antarctica so I could be a fry cook. And I certainly didn’t spend six month sealed in a tin can on the way to Mars so I could be a fry cook.

But that’s what I am. A Martian fry cook, for the last two years. All because of my big fat mouth.

But that’s going to change tonight. I have a plan…

March 2004 ( 6 years ago)

While surfing the Net one afternoon, I stumbled across the Shrox recruiting video for the Mars Endurance Base. When I saw the image of the vac-suited geologist rappelling down the side of the Martian cliff, I knew that I wanted to be that guy. I sent in my application in to the U.N. Space Administration that same day. They told me that the crew was already chosen for the 2005 mission, but that with a bit more training in a specialty field, I would be eligible for the 2007 mission. So I spent the next two years getting a dual Masters degree in geology and planetary astrophysics. During my free time between classes (yeah right) I managed to complete all the required physicals and flight training.

June 2007 ( 3 years ago)

I was sweating in my cap and gown as the California sun beat down on the CalTech commencement ceremony. “Better enjoy this heat while I can, because it’s gonna be mighty chilly where I’m headed.” The morning after graduation I was going to be on a plane for the South Pole, along with eleven other recruits. Only five of us would be chosen to make the trip to Mars.

The final training took place in Antarctica since the conditions there were as Mars-like as could be found on Earth. The UNSA psych experts figured that anybody who could survive the physical and psychological stress of a winter cut off from civilization at the South Pole should be able to handle the hostile environment and isolation at Mars Endurance Base.

November 2007 (2½ years ago)

The winter was, not surprisingly, cold and miserable, but the staff kept us busy learning how to deal with emergency situations that we might encounter on Mars or on the trip there. By the end of the winter, five of the twelve recruits in our group had changed their minds and decided that they were not meant to be Martians after all. Oh well, with them gone, my chances of getting picked for the mission just got that much better.

December 2007 (2½ years ago)

As the Orbital Transport lifted off from the spaceport in Kourou, French Guiana, I thanked my lucky stars that I had been chosen to make the big trip. Once we docked with the Mars transit vessel, with nearly every cubic meter jammed full of supplies, I realized that our time in Antarctica was probably a cake-walk compared to what lay ahead during the six-month trip through space and the years after that on Mars. At least in Antarctica I could go outside and stretch for a few minutes. No way to do this in deep space.

June 2008 (2 years ago)

What a great feeling it was to get out of that cramped metal can and set foot on another world. Finally, all my years of geology training would be put to use.

The existing crew was really excited to see us. I imagine after living with the same 10 people for the last four years, any new face looks good.

To celebrate our arrival, their cook, Jimmy Johansen, made a huge welcoming feast. Combining the fresh supplies we brought with us from Earth along with their hydroponic vegetables, Jimmy made us the finest meal we had eaten in months. He even served us vodka that they had distilled (without UNSA approval, of course) using waste material from the hydroponics tanks.

As the dinner grew to a close, Jimmy brought out the dessert. Each of us new-comers was presented with a glittering cup of blue-green gelatinous mixture topped with whipped cream. “This is a special treat I made just for you new guys. It’s a tradition we have here to greet newcomers to Mars Endurance Base. I hope you like it.” Jimmy waited eagerly to see our reactions. I took a big scoop and popped it into my mouth. It was the most foul, disgusting thing I had ever tasted. I immediately spit it out and shouted “Oh my God! What is this? This is awful!”

Jimmy replied, “That, my friend, is plankton pudding. It’s made from fresh plankton that we grow in the seafood tanks, along with the sludge we have left over from the vodka still. “

“ Oh, by the way, we also have another tradition here are MEB. Any time somebody complains about the food, they get to take over the cooking. Congratulations, you are the new cook.”

I sputtered, “But I’m a geologist, not a cook! I’ve got a Masters from Cal Tech!”

Jimmy retorted, “ Big deal! I’ve got a PhD from MIT, but I’ve been cooking since the day I arrived, all because I complained about the plankton pudding. Now it’s your turn to cook.”

So, for the last 25 months, I have been the fry cook. I have tried getting rid of this job many times. I’ve tried burning the food, but nobody complained. I’ve tried serving the food raw, but still nobody complained. After a few months it became clear that nobody else was going to fall into my trap. I would have to trick one of the new guys from the next crew if I was ever going to get rid of this job.

July 2010 (Tonight)

The new crew arrived from Earth this morning. Everybody here was glad to see them, but nobody more than me. To welcome them, I made a huge feast, with plenty of vodka.

When it came time to serve dessert, it was all I could do to contain my excitement as I served each of the new crew with a beautifully decorated cup of blue-green gel. Manny Ramirez was the first to dig in. As he popped the first spoonful into his mouth, his eyes bugged out . “ Madre Dios! What is this stuff?! It tastes like plankton!”

“Yesss!“ I shouted. Finally I had found a sucker to take over my cooking job! “It’s plankton pudding. What do you think? Pretty awful, isn‘t it?”

Then suppressing a grimace, Manny swallowed the pudding, looked at me and forced a smile. I knew I had celebrated too soon and my big fat mouth had gotten me in trouble again when he politely said “No, it’s, ummmm, delicious.”