The Disturbance: Hard Science Fiction, page 16
Benjamin moved so that the handlebar was between him and the test tube, which wasn’t easy in the cramped niche. Eventually, he found the right position.
“Go ahead,” said Aaron.
Benjamin fanned vigorously, but the handlebar didn’t shed any dust.
“It’s not working,” he said.
“Use your air tube,” Aaron suggested.
“Good idea.”
Benjamin reached back, held his breath, and closed the valve on his collar. Then he unscrewed the hose connecting the oxygen tank to his helmet and held his finger over the end. Without gloves, his fingertip would have frozen. He slowly pulled the end of the hose forward, aimed it at the handlebar, and lifted his finger off.
A strong blast of air came out of the hose – only detectable because some of the dust from the handlebar swirled toward the test tube.
“Close it!” he said.
Aaron reacted swiftly and put the cap on the test tube.
“Ha!” he said triumphantly. “This time I won’t lose it, I promise.”
Benjamin reattached his breathing hose, opened the valve and took a deep breath. He had practiced this in training, but it felt weird knowing there was only enough air in the suit to last him a few minutes. Air! He looked up at the ceiling. The leak in the life support system was still spraying a thin white vapor into the open capsule. They were in a vacuum, but it couldn’t be as empty as it was farther out from the ship.
“Wait,” he said. “Do you have another tube?”
Aaron nodded and handed him an empty one. Benjamin removed the cap and scooped the tube past the handlebar without touching it. Then he closed it again.
“What’s that?” asked Aaron. “A comparison sample?”
“No. You said you think the atoms no longer have chemical bonds. It would be weird if it only affected solid matter. I’m hoping I captured a few air molecules. If the disturbance works the way you think, then we should find individual oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen atoms.”
“Good idea,” said Aaron. “But what if they recombine into molecular nitrogen, oxygen, and so on, once they’re in a different environment?”
“Then it would be the same for the sample from the handlebar. Instead of individual iron atoms, we should see a metal lattice.”
“Makes sense,” said Aaron.
“But for us it makes no difference. If the disturbance affects us, we’ll dissolve into our individual atoms. If they recombine into molecules afterwards, it won’t change the fact that we’re dead.”
“Very reassuring. Makes the problem of getting back to Earth kind of irrelevant.”
“Depends how fast the disturbance is spreading. I’m pretty sure it’s expanding.”
“I’d like to know if it’s bound to fixed coordinates in the universe. Then all we have to do is start the ship and fly away.”
“It would be better if it was bound to the ship itself.”
“Why? It’ll kill us.”
“Yes, we would die. But we could accelerate the Shepherd one last time, out into interstellar space. We’d die out there, but Earth would be safe.”
“Oh,” said Aaron. “That’s comforting. But you’re right, I guess – the disturbance would take a gazillion years to reach our home planet. Humans would have found a cure for it by then, right?”
“I don’t know. Matter doesn’t just change its fundamental properties. Only gods could consciously intervene in something like that, and they’re figments of our imagination. Do you think humans can transform into gods fast enough?”
“My God wouldn’t like that,” said Aaron.
“Would he at least help us?”
“Probably not. I figure he would see this as a problem we brought on ourselves, which we have to solve ourselves.”
“So we’re on our own. Great.”
Benjamin’s feet touched the outer hull of Shepherd-1. He used his corrective thrusters to stop himself moving. Any moment now the outer airlock door would open.
Nothing happened.
“Aaron, did you press the button?”
“Yeah, a minute ago. But the light’s still red.”
Benjamin pushed off and flew to Aaron, who was hovering above the door button. Benjamin pressed it.
“Hey, don’t you believe me?”
“Well, maybe you pressed it too softly.”
“You figure I’m too weak to push a button?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Sorry, Aaron. You’re right, the door won’t open.”
“See?”
“Eric, can you hear us? The airlock won’t open. It must be jammed for some reason.”
No answer.
He pressed the button again. Then he raised his fist and slammed it down so hard that the counter-force drove him out into space. He flew back in.
“Well, that didn’t work,” said Aaron.
“Eric, can you hear us?” asked Benjamin. “We need you to open the airlock for us.”
Still no answer.
“What now?”
“We wait. He’ll come eventually.”
“We could blast it open.”
“It’s the main airlock, Benjamin. We still need it.”
“And it’s mechanically secured, plus we have no explosives.”
“Any other suggestions?”
“No, I guess we just wait.”
He turned around and tried to locate the Sun amongst ten thousand other stars.
“I’m bored. And we only have an hour of oxygen left,” said Benjamin.
Aaron turned toward him, then looked at the instrument on his wrist.
“Only forty-five minutes for me.”
“Eric, can you hear us? We’ve been waiting out here for three hours.”
The speaker in his helmet remained silent. Aaron sighed.
“We could try find another way into the ship.”
“Through the maintenance shafts near the drives?”
“You’re the engineer, so you should know they’re not accessible from outside. But look.” Aaron pointed diagonally below him.
Of course, the ring! They should have thought of that earlier!
“Oh, right,” said Benjamin, then he grew doubtful.
The ring wasn’t an ideal entry point. It was rotating pretty fast, which generated a force similar to gravity. Everything looked harmless. In zero gravity, they could effortlessly climb exterior walls the height of skyscrapers. But the force generated by the ring meant a fall from ten meters could be deadly.
“Well,” said Aaron, “what choice do we have? Let’s try it while we still have air.”
“Fine,” said Benjamin, pushing himself away from the main airlock.
“We need to get out of the plane of rotation,” said Aaron, “or we’ll be hit by the spokes.”
Benjamin corrected his course. The ring was attached to Shepherd-1 by five spokes with circular cross-sections. The shafts inside these had allowed them to move between the central module and their capsules – when they still had functioning space capsules. But something remained: the airlocks the capsules had docked to, and the separate laboratory capsule. If they could open one of the airlocks, they could get back into the ship through the shaft behind it.
“Wait, look,” said Aaron. “The ring’s damaged in a couple of places.”
He was right. It was plain to see from their current position.
“Sectors two and five still look good,” said Benjamin.
The ring was spinning pretty fast. This would be interesting!
“Let’s try sector two,” said Aaron.
“And if that doesn’t work, then sector five?”
“No, if we can’t open the airlock in sector two, it won’t work at five either.”
Once again, Aaron was a step ahead.
“What then?”
“Then we try entering through one of the damaged areas.”
“Why don’t we start with those? They’re open holes in the ring, you can see them from here.”
“You’re forgetting the automatic bulkheads that would have sealed when the ring was damaged. We need to reach an area filled with air. I figure our chances are better with a functioning airlock than an emergency bulkhead.”
Impeccable logic.
“Eric, can you hear us?” asked Benjamin.
“He can’t hear us.”
“It was worth a try.”
“Come on.”
Aaron pointed down at the ring, then started moving toward it. Benjamin activated the jets in the backpack and shot downward. He closed his eyes for a moment to reorient himself. Down wasn’t down. They were moving forward. He opened his eyes again. It worked. The ring towered in front of him like a Ferris wheel without gondolas. Aaron moved farther out and Benjamin followed.
“We need to match the ring’s speed,” said Aaron via radio.
That was easier said than done. They could accelerate in the ship’s direction of flight, but the left and right corrective thrusters weren’t powerful enough move them on a circular path at the same speed as the ring.
“We can’t,” said Benjamin. “The best we can do is a parabola.”
“You just need to grab hold at the right moment.”
Oh yeah? If only it were that simple. If he approached the ring too quickly, he wouldn’t have time to get a secure hold, and would fly past it out into space. But if he were too slow, then the ring would just slip through his fingers – and he would continue flying out into space.
You can do this, Benjamin. He gave himself more thrust. The ring looked bigger and more dangerous up close. Humans built this? It looked more like ancient alien architecture.
Almost there! He bent his legs. Impact in three, two, one... his feet touched the metal. They slipped. He was holding a safety line with two carabiners. But there was nothing to hook them around. He had aimed for a section of the ring that was completely smooth. And then he was past it. He used his left corrective thruster to brake and simultaneously change direction. There was the ring again. Where could he get purchase? He tried to bend down to reach it, but his feet simply lifted up. Fucking zero gravity. The ring rotated beneath him again.
“Look out, you’re coming up to the damaged part!” called Aaron.
Oh, great. But maybe he could clip a carabiner on the edge of one of the holes. He looked at his gloves. What if something sharp tore a hole in his suit? He used his corrective thrusters to approach it. He was moving slower than the ring, so he accelerated again. Three, two, one, shit. His boots were too smooth. Up ahead he could see a hole torn by debris from the explosion, but his inertia was already pulling him back out into space. He had to brake and turn back.
He pushed the thruster lever as far as it would go, but continued moving in a straight line. Shit. The tank must be empty and he was drifting steadily away from the ship. He should have refilled the gas after using the jetpack yesterday. Should have.
“Benjamin, you need to turn around,” called Aaron.
“The tank’s empty, sorry, I...”
“Stop messing around! How fast are you moving?”
Benjamin looked at the instrument on his wrist.
“Twenty-three kilometers per hour relative to Shepherd-1.”
“Then I can’t get to you.”
“Aaron, it’s OK. I’ve always sought out extreme situations, and what’s more extreme than flying out into deep space?”
“That wouldn’t happen. You’re not moving fast enough. You’d just become a long-period comet.”
“Sounds romantic. A comet then.”
“Enough screwing around. Remember your training and get back here now, before it really is too late.”
“Training?”
“Your oxygen, genius!”
Oh, right. He still had a whole lot of pressurized gas. The oxygen tank was roughly half-full. He had to act fast. He detached the hose from his helmet and connected it to the jetpack. He had roughly three minutes of air in his suit. He accelerated.
“Come to me,” called Aaron. “I’m clipped on to the ring. Doesn’t matter how fast you’re moving, just aim for me.”
Where was Aaron? Benjamin scanned the ring frantically. There. The figure down there standing on its head. Benjamin adjusted his course. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Turn 180 degrees. Beautiful oxygen. Ten meters, eight, six. Aaron, I’m coming, please stop me.
Aaron stretched out his arms. All Benjamin had to do was aim for him. It should work. It had to work! Four meters, two. Two hands gripped his leg. Benjamin braked with the jets, but his momentum was carrying him away. Aaron didn’t let go, and Benjamin was pulled along with him. Aaron was now moving away from the ring, but his safety line held. The line went taut. Aaron’s hands tightened around his calf. Benjamin was jerked back. Brief, searing pain. Aaron had him. Another safety line floated past Benjamin. He clipped it to his belt. They were joined by an umbilical cord, a force flowing through it, but no blood.
He gripped the line and pulled himself closer to Aaron, who was pulling himself on his own line back to the ring. They reached it almost at the same time. The world began to blur before Benjamin’s eyes. Were those tears of relief at being rescued? Aaron tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to his backpack. Man, was he slow today. He removed the oxygen hose from the jetpack and attached it to his helmet again. Fresh air smelling of ozone flowed into the suit. Now he could see and think clearly again.
“Thanks, Aaron,” he said.
“Don’t mention it. We can’t lose anyone else, OK?”
“OK.”
That was a promise he intended to keep. He should probably start with himself. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that. All this time in space had made him over-confident.
Five minutes later, they reached an airlock. Aaron glanced around him.
“This must be where Christine’s capsule was docked,” he said.
Benjamin didn’t ask how he knew. He must have his reasons.
“Should we try our luck?” asked Aaron.
“Let’s do it.”
Aaron pressed the button and the airlock door opened.
“You’re welcome,” said Aaron.
Benjamin could hear the relief in his voice. He almost sounded happy.
“Thanks.”
Benjamin stuck his head inside. This airlock was much smaller than the main one. He clambered over the edge and stood upright inside it. His knees were a little wobbly. It had been a while since they had any semblance of gravity.
To their surprise, Eric’s voice greeted them inside the ship. “Aaron, Benjamin, where are you guys?”
Great, Eric was talking to them again, now that they had solved the crisis.
“We’re in the ring, on our way to the control room,” said Aaron, with the patience of a saint.
Eric came to meet them. He must have seen them on the cameras. They met halfway along the shaft connecting the ring to the ship.
Before they reached Eric, Aaron turned to Benjamin, opened his tool pocket and pressed the test tube into his hand.
“Just a hunch,” said Aaron. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Benjamin stashed the tube in his tool pocket.
“There you are,” said Eric. “Nice to see you.”
“We’re glad to see you too,” said Aaron.
“I’d like to get out of this suit,” said Benjamin. “Can we maybe continue this conversation in the control room?”
The shaft was narrow and Eric and Aaron were blocking it.
“Oh, sure, I just wanted to say hi,” said Eric.
He turned and climbed back up the ladder toward the control room.
“Were you successful?”
“We were,” said Aaron. “I collected some samples. But then the main airlock wouldn’t let us back in.”
“That’s good,” said Eric. “Was it difficult getting back in?”
“Yes, very. Benjamin flew a little farther out than intended.”
“But everything turned out OK. I guess you could both use some rest, right?”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Aaron.
What? He must have misheard. Benjamin wanted to find out as soon as possible what the scanning tunneling microscope could tell them about their samples.
“I want to take a look at the samples today,” he said.
“Sorry, Benjamin,” said Aaron, “but I need to sleep. Tomorrow’s another day. The samples aren’t going anywhere.”
“Hopefully,” said Benjamin.
“No, I’ll keep a closer eye on them this time.”
Aaron patted his pocket as though he had forgotten that he gave the test tubes to Benjamin. Interesting.
“Where were you today, Eric?” he asked. “We could have used your help at the airlock.”
“Sorry, boys. I was in the core, checking out more spare parts. I want to repair the crack by the drives soon, so we can head home.”
That would be nice. But had Eric forgotten about the empty tanks? Or was he assuming Earth would resupply them?
They reached the end of the spoke. They weren’t far from the control room.
“I’ll go find somewhere to sleep,” said Aaron. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Good night,” said Benjamin.
He badly needed a shower. Then he would find out what Eric had really been doing at the heart of the ship.
Houston, February 17, 2079
Rachel flinched and realized she had nodded off. She put her hand over her mouth and stifled a yawn. She was experiencing her usual afternoon slump just after three. It was abnormally warm in the control room. Maybe the cleaner had switched off the air conditioning last night and nobody had noticed. It was a mild spring day outside.
Keyboards clattered behind and on either side of her. Her colleagues were focused on their work. What work? There had been no news from Shepherd-1. Were they analyzing what might have happened out there? They were probably just messaging their families or looking for a cheap package deal for the next vacation.
She opened the last transmission from Shepherd-1. What were they like, these people she was responsible for? They had lost their commander. Aaron, Benjamin, and Eric remained. Eric? She closed her eyes. David, that was the youngest crew member’s name, Dave for short. She remembered clearly. David Ma... Martelle, the 19-year-old who had lost a friend in a car crash. She had been reading about him only yesterday!
