Mars or Bust! — First Landing by Robert Zubrin

In this bi-weekly series reviewing classic science fiction and fantasy books, Alan Brown looks at the front lines and frontiers of the field; books about soldiers and spacers, scientists and engineers, explorers and adventurers. Stories full of what Shakespeare used to refer to as “alarums and excursions”: battles, chases, clashes, and the stuff of excitement.

Today, we’ll be taking a look at First Landing, the tale of a first mission to Mars written by Robert Zubrin. Zubrin is known primarily for his non-fiction writing and his innovative views on space exploration, especially as they relate to the planet Mars.

The copy I am reviewing is a hardback edition issued by Ace Books in 2001. The book’s cover seems to be intended to evoke a respectable and serious novel, with a design that emphasizes the text, and the simple illustration of a bootprint in reddish soil. I have had the book on my shelf for some time, because I had the mistaken impression it was a non-fiction book I’d already read. So, when I came across the book recently and discovered my error, I decided that two and a half decades were too long to keep it on the to-be-read pile, and cracked it open.

About the Author

Robert Zubrin (born 1952) is an American aerospace engineer and author, whose bold vision for space exploration has had a large impact on both the scientific world and science fiction. He has a bachelor’s degree in mathematics, a master’s degree in nuclear engineering, a master’s in aeronautics and astronautics, and a doctorate in nuclear engineering. In 1990, Zubrin, with David Baker, published a paper on what is now called the Mars Direct concept, which would use the Martian atmosphere to synthesize fuel for the trip home, significantly reducing the mass requirements for a journey to and from Mars. This would make the trip possible with current technology, and would be significantly less expensive than previous concepts. He has also been a leader in designing new propulsion and launch systems for space travel.

Zubrin has authored numerous scientific papers, articles, and books on space travel and other technical topics. His best-known non-fiction book is The Case for Mars, published in 1996, which explained and argued for his Mars Direct concept. Although he is best known for his scientific and engineering writing, Zubrin is also the author of three science fiction novels. His debut First Landing, published in 2001, is based directly on the missions described in The Case for Mars. The Holy Land, published in 2003, is a satire about politics in the Middle East. The third novel, How to Live on Mars, published in 2008, is a guide written from the viewpoint of a person who lives on a human-populated Mars in the 2100s.

Having gained leadership experience in the National Space Society, Zubrin established the Mars Society in 1998, with the hopes of encouraging governmental, international, and private support for missions to the planet. His concepts helped inspire Elon Musk’s goal of launching missions to Mars, although the ideas of the two have diverged in recent years.

The Pull of Mars

Mars has long captured the imagination of humanity, especially after 19th-century astronomers like Schiaparelli and Lowell began to map surface features like polar ice caps, dark areas that seemed to vary with seasons, and smaller features that appeared to be canals. Mars is the planet in the solar system that most closely resembles Earth. Science fiction stories about Mars proliferated, with Edgar Rice Burroughs’ pulpy tales of warrior John Carter being among the most popular (I’ve reviewed some of those books here, here, and here). Since then, Mars has continued to play a major role in science fiction, so it’s no surprise that I found quite a number of Mars-centric tales in my previous reviews for this column. These range from serious and scientific to pulpy adventure tales and even to slapstick, and include (but are not limited to): Ben Bova’s Mars; Robert Heinlein’s Red Planet, Stranger in a Strange Land, Podkayne of Mars; Arthur Clarke’s Sands of Mars; Ray Bradbury’s collection Martian Chronicles; Carey Rockwell’s Tom Corbett, Space Cadet: Stand By for Mars!; Fredric Brown’s whimsical Martians Go Home; the collection Old Mars edited by Gardner Dozois and George R.R. Martin; a number of novels and stories from Leigh Brackett including Eric John Stark: Outlaw of Mars, and The Sword of Rhiannon; some of the adventures of C.L. Moore’s Northwest Smith; and some of the stories from The Best of Stanley G. Weinbaum.

As a youngster, I was keenly interested in space travel, a passion fed by a diet of science fiction, and especially by a series of documentaries from the Walt Disney Corporation, which first aired on the Disneyland show, were repeated over the years on television, and were often shown in school science classes by substitute teachers. These included “Man in Space,” “Man and the Moon,” and especially “Mars and Beyond.” At the time, I was convinced that it was just a matter of time before spaceships were launched to take us to Mars. That optimism stayed strong as the space program brought us to the moon, but waned when the Apollo program fell prey to budget cuts in the 1970s, and when space probes and rovers showed Mars to be far less hospitable than had previously been thought.

In the late 20th century, however, there was renewed interest in missions to Mars. Robert Zubrin was right at the center of this, with his innovative ideas that capitalized on using the Martian atmosphere to make oxygen and water for explorers while on the planet, and to make fuel for their return to Earth. Private launch systems spearheaded by billionaires like Musk and Bezos, which focus on reusable systems, promise to reduce the cost per pound of putting material into orbit. Additional countries are joining the previously small club of space-faring nations. There is a sense that humanity could be on the cusp of an era of renewed exploration, which might include missions and even bases on the Moon, trips to resource-rich asteroids, and journeys to Mars itself.

First Landing

Zubrin’s influence on the science fiction field was apparent before I even opened this book—after all, what other first-time novelist can boast cover blurbs from folks like Gregory Benford, Kevin J. Anderson, Buzz Aldrin, Carl Sagan, and Arthur C. Clarke?

Like many other Mars novels, First Landing skips the boredom of traveling between the planets, and starts right as the spaceship Beagle approaches its destination. But the tether system that gives the crew a simulation of gravity by spinning the craft during the journey will not release, and there is a last-minute spacewalk to free the recalcitrant system. The astronaut loses contact with the ship, only to be saved by the pilot, who brings the airlock close enough for her to enter just as the edge of the Martian atmosphere begins to buffet the ship. And then, with the planned reentry out the window and crew members thrashing about in their quarters, the pilot throws the mission parameters out the window and lands successfully by the seat of his pants. It is all very exciting, but had me wondering why the de-tethering had not been done days before, and why no one is strapped down for the re-entry maneuver. Knowing Zubrin’s engineering background, I expected something a bit more measured and realistic, not a passage that read like a pulp adventure story.

The crew is a small one, and at least for me, initially the characters felt a bit thin. The Mission Commander is Colonel Andrew Townsend, USAF, a daring fighter pilot, and the only married member of the crew. The co-pilot and flight engineer is Army Major Gwen Llewellyn, a decorated combat veteran and helicopter pilot from Georgia who is a Christian fundamentalist given to quoting the King James Version of the Bible. The geologist is the abrasive Luke Johnson, placed on the mission through the political influence of Texas politicians. The doctor and biologist is Rebecca Sherman, a liberal and an entitled graduate of Radcliffe, Cornell, and Harvard. And the final member of the crew, a last-minute substitute for a chemist, is historian Professor Kevin McGee, who has been put on the crew to promote public relations efforts and document the mission.

To put it bluntly, the crew gets along like oil and water, bickering constantly. There is a reference to them concealing their differences from NASA because of their desire to be included on the mission, but those differences seem too significant to have been overlooked. Gwen and Rebecca despise each other, Luke rubs everyone the wrong way, and even after a long voyage, Kevin is seen as an interloper by the others. They even fight over who gets to step onto the surface of Mars first, as if that wouldn’t have been determined by NASA long before their arrival. There are also some odd choices in clothing and gear that struck me as impractical. The Colonel wears a leather pilot’s jacket and peaked military cap like he was flying a WWII bomber. Gwen keeps a Bowie knife attached to her leg, which seems an impractically large blade for use aboard a spaceship (a multitool would be more practical, and more in character for an engineer). Luke wears cowboy boots (and other than the boots specifically designed as part of spacesuits, I can’t ever remember any situation where an astronaut wore boots in a spaceship). These items seem to be included to give the characters more personality, but feel unrealistic.

Then the narrative turns to exploration. There is more bickering about who gets to use the rover first, with an argument between Luke and Rebecca about which discipline is more important, geology or biology, and the practicality of searching for life. Again, this seems like something that would have been decided and planned out long in advance. The Colonel decides to send out Gwen and Kevin on a sightseeing and photographic mission. And here Zubrin’s narrative begins to find its footing, and he does a great job describing their efforts, and the planet itself. They set up a small greenhouse, both to add variety to their diets and to prove the ability of humans on Mars to sustain themselves. On additional rover missions, Luke finds gemstones with no equivalent on Earth. And Rebecca soon makes an exciting discovery: There is life on Mars. It is a primitive pre-cellular form of life, adapted for harsh conditions, but it is life.

The discovery of life kicks off some political sub-plots back on Earth. Gary Stetson, a self-help author and philosopher, sees an opportunity to draw more attention to himself (and make more money), and argues that the returning astronauts could bring a deadly plague back to Earth, and soon anti-science “eco-goths” take up the cry of “Keep Earth green, and keep Mars red.” He makes common cause with a fundamentalist preacher, Reverend Stone, who also opposes space exploration and is also motivated more by self-enrichment than moral reasons. And the craven U.S. president, who had previously supported the mission, decides that the question over efforts to bring the mission home will be left up to Congress. The political issues were not very compelling to me, as the antagonists felt more like pulp villains than well-realized characters.

At the same time, a saboteur at NASA’s Mission Control in Houston uploads a program that empties the return vehicle’s fuel tanks. They can’t prove his actions conclusively, but he is dismissed. Another NASA employee, however, is approached by a presidential candidate who opposes the incumbent, and is promised political favors if he helps with additional sabotage to discredit the current administration. So, the bickering astronauts have additional challenges to face, and frequently suspect each other of causing the sabotage. The process of replenishing the fuel tank from the atmosphere cannot be completed before the launch window for their return closes, so they begin searching for water under the surface. And, like the other passages about exploration, this section of the book is among its strongest elements, as the crew works together to cobble together sensors to locate potential underground deposits, and then drill to find the water they need.

I will not go into too many details, as I don’t want to spoil the rest of the story for those who might want to read the book. The crew must get over their differences and replenish their fuel with the clock ticking. Their small greenhouse cannot support the entire crew until the next launch window opens, so this is a life-or-death effort. There is more sabotage to contend with, including the destruction of a computer component essential to their launch, which triggers a desperate trek across the valleys of Mars to get a replacement from a vehicle NASA had landed to support future missions. NASA must find the additional saboteur who is still sending malicious code to the explorers, while politicians must overcome the opposition to the mission’s return, which includes demands that the ship be destroyed to prevent contaminating the Earth. The descriptions of the crew’s efforts to survive are compelling enough to counterbalance the implausibility of the political sub-plots, and the book barrels its way to an enjoyable conclusion.

Final Thoughts

First Landing felt a little stiff in the beginning, with thinly drawn characters, some over-the-top situations, and the recycling of some tired tropes, but Zubrin’s enthusiasm for his topic is contagious, and his description of the planet and its exploration is compelling. By the end of the book, I was turning pages more enthusiastically, and ended up enjoying the read.

And now I’d like to hear from you: If you’ve read First Landing, what did you think? And what are your thoughts on Zubrin’s ambitious plans for missions to Mars, and even the establishment of colonies, in the near future? icon-paragraph-end

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