The Disturbance: Hard Science Fiction, page 19
“Fine, I’ll talk to Ilan about how we can involve you more. But I’m warning you, the more you know, the deeper you get dragged into this – for better or worse.”
“If it helps me do my goddamn job, then I don’t really have a choice.”
“You’re really stubborn, you know that? This is exactly what I warned Alison about.”
“And she hired me anyway – probably for exactly that reason.”
Houston, February 22, 2079
“We assume the risk to Earth is minimal,” said the woman on screen.
The image and sound were out of sync. The transmission was presumably coming from another continent. Her name and title were displayed at the bottom of the video: Dr. Mrunal Thakur. She had introduced herself as a physicist. Rachel turned to Charles.
“Is she one of yours?” she whispered.
Charles nodded. Typical. Shouldn’t they ask the opinion of an independent expert? Alpha Omega naturally wanted to continue the project they had thrown all that money at.
“Thank you, Doctor Thakur,” said MOM. “Well, it seems pretty clear. The death of astronaut Christine Delrue is regrettable. We’ll express our deepest sympathies to her family. But I’m sure she would have wanted us to continue the mission as planned.”
“Alison, I have to disagree.” Rachel stood up.
Mission Control went quiet. No one had ever contradicted such a decisive statement from MOM.
“First of all, a person is dead.”
Alison looked annoyed. Rachel didn’t get it. How could MOM care so little about the crew?
“The other astronauts have told us they suspect it was suicide. It looks like Christine was trying to destroy the entire ship. Either she was suffering from acute depression, or she believed it was the only way to eliminate some danger.”
“Doctor Thakur just explained to us that there’s no danger. She’s an expert in this field.”
“Yes, Alison, but she works for Alpha Omega, as Charles just confirmed.”
Charles held up his hands defensively. It wasn’t entirely fair to drag him into it, but this was too important.
“Christine Delrue was also an expert. She had carried out and analyzed all the measurements herself.”
“Rachel, I’m afraid you’re not fully aware of the scope of this project. It’s about the cornerstone of our existence, the question of where we come from.”
“And it’s about the huge amount of money Alpha Omega has invested,” said Rachel.
Alison sighed, but said nothing.
“We’re in a NASA control room,” Rachel continued. “As a government agency, we’re responsible for people’s safety, and that includes the astronauts. Private organizations have no decision-making authority here, and generous donations don’t change that.”
“Yes, we have a responsibility,” said Alison. “The crew expects clear instructions from us, not scaremongering. That doesn’t help anyone. As CapCom, you of all people should be clear on that.”
Oh, now MOM was getting personal. Rachel must have hit a nerve.
“The astronauts on Shepherd-1 aren’t children we have to break the bad news to gently,” said Rachel. “And I’m not their mother. I’m their representative on Earth, and apparently their only one. They have a right to know the truth.”
“Oh, the noble truth versus the malicious lie. Bullshit. We want an optimal outcome for this project. What do you want?”
“I want us to hire someone outside of Alpha Omega to do the risk assessment. Otherwise I won’t deliver the message to Shepherd-1. Nobody can force me to act against the interests of the crew.”
That was a weak threat, but only at first glance. A CapCom refusing to deliver a message from Mission Control was a clear signal to any crew that something wasn’t right down below.
“But the most competent experts in this field are all employed by Alpha Omega.”
“Alison, I’m sure we can find one or two other physicists on Earth who could work with Doctor Thakur. Please, NASA’s well connected with universities all over the world.”
“Fine,” said Alison. “Let’s postpone until tomorrow. Between now and then, admin can find a scientist to confirm Doctor Thakur’s opinion. It just means the crew has to wait an extra day for a reply.”
Don’t guilt-trip me, Alison. My daughter’s father tried that for years without success.
“It’s not about finding someone who can confirm Doctor Thakur’s opinion, it’s about getting the opinion of an independent scientist,” Rachel said sharply, then sat down.
“Dragging me into it in front of everyone wasn’t very smart,” Charles whispered behind her. “If Alpha Omega stops trusting me, you’ll have no allies.”
Shepherd-1, May 2, 2094
“I could use the next part,” said Aaron over the radio.
“Coming.”
Man, was Aaron fast. And Benjamin was supposed to be the engineer! He guided the girder through the airlock door. Getting it inside in the first place hadn’t been easy – it was almost six meters long. He had to vent the room in front of the airlock first. Fortunately, not all the pieces were that long.
The outer airlock door closed behind him. Then he pressed the button. He barely paid attention anymore to things happening in the wrong order. It must be the stress. He hoped they could soon return to a more leisurely pace of life. Benjamin pushed the girder ahead of him and flew around the ship using his jetpack. They had closed the rift in capsule C, ground its edges smooth and welded the two halves back together.
But the repairs to the interior weren’t finished. And the vibration testing yesterday had revealed that the capsule had lost roughly a third of its rigidity. So they were reinforcing the interior with added bracing. Unfortunately, that meant they had to remove some interior walls – such as the thin one between the workshop and the WHC. Anyone traveling in the capsule in future would have to use the toilet in plain view of the other passengers.
He shone his helmet lamp around the capsule. The bare metal of the welded seam around its equator gleamed. This scar was the only evidence of the terrible incident. He felt more optimistic now that the capsule didn’t look like a cracked egg. Maybe things were looking up.
He aimed the girder at capsule C’s small airlock. Aaron was behind it, waving at him.
“Just give it a shove and go get the next part. I’ve got this,” he said.
“If you say so.”
He propelled the girder toward the airlock and let go. It was rotating slowly, but moving in the right direction. Good! He turned and headed back to the main airlock.
“I hate to interrupt, but the scanners have detected another obstacle,” Eric reported.
“What do you mean?” asked Aaron.
“Apparently our course intersects with the orbit of an unknown TNO.”
“Can you be more specific?” asked Benjamin.
A TNO – trans-Neptunian object – was basically any celestial body that orbited the Sun out beyond Neptune. So it was a very vague term.
“We’re in luck,” said Eric. “This thing is pretty big.”
“How big?”
“Roughly fifteen kilometers across.”
“You call that luck? The asteroid will flatten us if we collide with it.”
“If it were smaller, we wouldn’t see it until much later, like last time.”
That was a good point.
“How much time do we have?” asked Aaron.
“And what’s the chance of a collision?” added Benjamin.
“Its course data is imprecise,” said Eric. “It was only detected three minutes ago. The simulation currently calculates a three percent chance of impact.”
Three percent, they couldn’t ignore that. They had to evade it. Interstellar space was predominantly empty. If they actually needed an asteroid, they most likely wouldn’t find one. They must be somehow attracting all this bad luck.
“How much longer?” asked Aaron.
“Eight hours max. You need to finish up out there in seven hours so we have time to get safely out of its path.”
That was cutting it fine. They had planned to finish work on the capsule the day after tomorrow. The disturbance now measured roughly a meter across.
“Can we do it, Aaron?” asked Benjamin.
“Do what? The way I see it, we have two options. We finish repairing the capsule and send it out today. That’s cutting it very, very fine. Or we secure it to Shepherd-1 with a little extra reinforcement. That gives us time later to finish the interior.”
Benjamin wished the damn asteroid would just disappear. If they rushed the repairs on capsule C and overlooked something, their plan to fire the disturbance out into interstellar space might fail. But if they played it safe and secured the capsule to the ship for the evasive maneuver, then the disturbance might grow beyond a manageable size. Plague or cholera? Scylla or Charybdis? He didn’t need to explain all this to Aaron. His crewmate was probably thinking the same thing.
“We were planning to finish the day after tomorrow,” said Benjamin. “We should stick to the plan. Let’s secure the capsule to the ship.”
“Agreed,” said Aaron.
“You have seven hours.”
“Hold on, Eric,” said Benjamin. “You don’t get off that lightly. We need you to bring all the T-girders you can find in storage to the airlock. And fast.”
“Got it. T-girders to the main airlock. On my way.”
“Next, please,” called Aaron.
“Coming from your three o’clock.”
Benjamin let go of the girder. The bulky piece of metal moved weightlessly toward the airlock. Aaron turned and gave him a thumbs up. Above the capsule rose a cage structure, which Aaron was extending piece by piece, to secure capsule C against the hull of Shepherd-1 during the evasive maneuver.
The next girder was already protruding from the ship’s main airlock. The three of them were working really efficiently – apparently Eric did care about the capsule and the disturbance. It made the work fun, even though they were under pressure. Now that they had a better idea of the asteroid’s course, the risk of a collision had risen to seven percent. That was unacceptable; it could mean the total destruction of Shepherd-1.
“Next, please,” said Aaron.
A light on the capsule airlock was flashing. Benjamin aimed the girder at it and gave it a firm shove. With a mass of 400 kilograms, it had a lot of inertia. He had to turn his jetpack up to full thrust to avoid drifting out too far. He was surprised how good he felt despite the imminent threat. It was probably because they were working together so harmoniously.
“Shit,” said Aaron. “This weld’s not holding. I have to redo it.”
Benjamin was on his way back to the main airlock, from which the next girder was already protruding.
“Here, Benjamin,” called Eric.
The girder floated out of the airlock. Benjamin gripped it in both hands and was dragged along with it until he could slow himself with the jetpack. He headed for capsule C.
“Where... sh... uff.”
“What’s wrong? Aaron?”
“Ahh... ca...”
Benjamin dropped the girder and accelerated. That didn’t sound good.
“I’ll be right there,” he called.
“Grrmmmm.”
Benjamin’s lamp shone into the capsule’s small airlock. The t-girder he had just delivered was sticking out of it. Aaron was in the airlock. His body was twisted unnaturally. The girder... oh, no. It had punched through his abdomen.
“Aaron, say something!”
“I... pain.”
Aaron’s right arm twitched.
“Don’t move. We’ll deal with this. Eric, I need you here now, Aaron’s injured.”
“Coming,” said Eric. “But I have to get my suit on.”
“That... doesn’t look good,” said Benjamin.
The girder had pierced Aaron a little to the right of his belly button.
“That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear,” said Aaron.
At least he could still speak. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked.
“How do you feel?”
Benjamin was looking straight into Aaron’s helmet. His forehead was shiny with sweat and the visor was misting over.
“I... the pain was incredible, but now it’s OK.”
“Can you breathe OK?”
“Yeah, no problem. When the pain first kicked in, it was hard to breathe, but that must have been the shock.”
Benjamin pulled himself down to where the girder had punctured the space suit. He carefully felt the spot.
“The girder appears to be sealing the hole it tore in your suit.”
“Then don’t take it out,” said Aaron.
Benjamin maneuvered himself around Aaron. A tiny bit of the girder was sticking out the back. It must have been stopped by the wall.
“I know I’m supposed to break it to you gently,” he said, “but I don’t know how.”
“Just tell me.”
“It’s gone right through you.”
“Well, I feel pretty good, considering.”
“That’s shock. We need to take you straight to the emergency station. The internal injuries...”
“Spare me the gory details,” said Aaron. “But I can’t get through the airlock with this thing.”
Benjamin drifted back and looked at Aaron from a couple of meters away. He’d never seen an astronaut on a skewer. It was crazy, but he felt like laughing. He must be in shock too.
“Astronaut on a stick,” he said.
Aaron laughed. They were both nuts.
“I need to remove the part that’s sticking out,” said Benjamin.
“Please. Do you know how to switch the welder to cutting mode?”
“Buddy, I’m an engineer. But it’ll take a few minutes. The girder’s pretty solid.”
“I still feel OK,” said Aaron. “Shock feels great. I’ve never felt better. Adrenalin is amazing stuff. Now I understand why some people are so hooked on it.”
“Talk to me while I’m cutting, so I know you’re still alive.”
“Sure. And if I’m dead, it means you can stop.”
“You have to understand, Aaron, efficiency is the most important thing to me.”
They hadn’t had such a hilarious conversation in ages. Eric came at just the right moment to take the offcut away. He pushed it out into space.
“Hey, I wanted to keep that as a souvenir,” said Aaron.
“Don’t worry, a big piece of it’s still stuck in you. That’s enough for a souvenir.”
“True, I almost forgot.”
“Come on, Eric, let’s get him inside, you go that side.”
“I don’t mean to be a backseat driver,” said Aaron, “but only one of you needs to transport me. Benjamin, you should finish securing the capsule.”
“Aaron’s right. Time’s running out. I’ll take him to the emergency station. He’ll be taken care of there.”
Benjamin didn’t want to leave Aaron, but they were right. Time was running out. It wouldn’t help his crewmate if they lost the ship. It wouldn’t be easy doing it alone. He had to get the materials to the capsule and then weld them on himself.
“There are at least ten more girders behind the airlock,” said Eric. “I’ll quickly take care of Aaron and then help you move them.”
“Thanks,” said Benjamin. “Aaron, you’re going to be OK.”
He couldn’t cope with another death. Aaron, please stay with us.
Benjamin welded, hammered and drilled for his life – for all their lives. The cage securing capsule C to the ship was finished. He just had to do one last test. He wanted to fire up the capsule’s chemical thrusters briefly, to simulate some of the stress it would have to withstand when the ship accelerated.
He sat in the commander’s seat. Christine had sat here not long ago. Her fingerprints were on the screen and the keyboard. He used her login.
“Password:”
“Cursum perficio,” he typed.
A green tick appeared on screen. Christine had used that password more than once.
“You have new messages.”
Benjamin hesitated. Christine was dead. He shouldn’t snoop unless it was an emergency. What if her personal mail contained something important that could help them? No, he couldn’t do it. Her messages were none of his business.
“Delete a... – no, wait. Mark all as read.”
It wasn’t his place to delete them either. Now, if someone else used her login, they wouldn’t be tempted to read them.
Benjamin switched to the capsule controls. The thrusters still had enough fuel. Christine hadn’t flown in her capsule often. Fortunately, the thrusters weren’t damaged, and Aaron had repaired the supply lines... Aaron, who was now lying in the emergency station critically injured. He should finish up here quickly and go check on him. Benjamin was no doctor, but he knew Aaron’s chance of survival couldn’t be great.
He ran the test program. Everything looked good. The thruster’s maximum output was close to optimal, as if it had just come out of the factory. He programmed in a short sequence. Three seconds of thrust at five percent should suffice. He just wanted to briefly rattle the capsule’s cage.
“Start.”
His seat juddered. Then the three seconds were over. It had worked. The cage was holding. This was a good sign, even though the ship would accelerate with much more force.
Benjamin heard a crack behind him. He spun around. One of the girders they had welded to the inside of the capsule to reinforce it had snapped. A large piece of it had broken away and crashed into the back wall of the capsule. Because of that short burst from the thrusters? It seemed unlikely.
Benjamin floated back and inspected the girder. It had been attached at either side of the capsule on the lower level. He pictured it in its original position, close to the bicycle where they had found Christine’s watch. That was where the disturbance was emanating from. But if it had dissolved part of the girder, it must be spreading faster than expected.
“Are you nearly done?” asked Eric. “Only thirty minutes until launch.”
