The Io Encounter: Hard Science Fiction (Ice Moon Book 3)

by Brandon Q Morris

  “You must be Shuilian Li,” he said with a smile, stretching out his hand. “Welcome to the Green Bank Observatory!”

  “Thank you very much for the invitation. So you must be Robert Millikan. I apologize for not bringing a present, but as you know I am currently traveling as a guest in your beautiful country.”

  “I am happy you managed to come here to the mountains in spite of your busy schedule. I would have been willing to meet you in Washington.”

  “It is just fine, as I am curious about rural America. I myself come from a rural area. And you are also working in such exciting surroundings. Would you mind giving me a short, guided tour? Only the basics, since I do not have that much time.”

  Unless they used Millikan’s car, time constraints would eliminate the radio dishes from the tour. But not the control room of the Jansky Lab...

  “If you want a quick tour, then you’d better follow me to the control room. It is only a few hundred steps away, and in this wonderful weather it will be a nice walk. From there we can control the radio dishes. Perhaps I can even receive a signal sent by your old friend Jiaying.”

  Millikan shot Lining a questioning glance while speaking his last sentence, but she only gave him a wide, friendly smile in response. He did not seem to be completely sure about his guest. Maybe he could not find much about Li Shuilian on the internet. She would have to improve that aspect of her image.

  “I would be very glad, if it is not too much to ask,” she said.

  Millikan led her away from the gravel path to a smaller one, covered in grass and pine needles. She had chosen to wear sneakers, as this seemed to be the custom in America. She was glad about her choice, since she could feel how soft the ground was, soft yet still firm enough for safe walking.

  “Watch out!” The old man briefly touched her elbow to warn her of a root. The path narrowed here, and Millikan took the lead. She walked behind him silently between the conifers, which smelled of shampoo. No, what nonsense. It smells of forest here, Lining thought. It was just that the most popular shampoo in China perfectly captured this scent, at least for her nose.

  After five or six minutes Millikan stopped, stepped aside, and placed a hand on her upper arm to make her stop as well. They had reached the building—it was not very impressive. It looked functional but a bit run-down. Her reading had told her the U.S. government was no longer willing to invest much into science. How foolish of them.

  He looked at her face. “Yes, you are right. It’s not exactly the pride of our nation, but it still contains a lot of science.” His face seemed to light up when he said those last words. Lining liked people who were really passionate about their area of expertise.

  “I am looking forward to hearing your explanations,” she replied.

  Millikan went ahead again. Now he was walking even faster than before. The control room seemed to exert a magnetic attraction on him.

  When they stood in front of the heavy metal door, Lining was reminded of her training in the People’s Liberation Army. This was just like the doors of the bunkers in which they were supposed to survive a nuclear war. A shiver ran down her spine. Luckily, the interior of the control room was quite different from those bunkers. It practically reeked of science in here.

  Millikan walked toward a positively ancient-looking computer. He reached to turn it on when Lining touched his shoulder.

  “Just a moment, Millikan, Robert.”

  This was the traditional form of address, last name first. Westerners were often surprised by it, and it created the perfect situation to start a conversation.

  He turned toward her. “You don’t want to see it?” He actually looked somewhat disappointed, like a boy who could not show off his latest toy.

  “I would prefer to talk about Jiaying first,” Lining said. “I might receive an unexpected call and then I would have to leave quickly. It would be a pity if I could not bring up the real reason for my visit.” She made this statement while batting her eyelashes and, naturally, he reacted as most men would.

  “Y... yes, of course, what a great suggestion. But don’t be worried about receiving a call. No phone calls will reach this room, not a chance. You won’t even get reception as bad as this at the South Pole.”

  “I understand,” she replied.

  “If that’s a problem, we could go outside, since the weather is...”

  “No, thank you, I really like it in here.” She looked around for a place to sit and discovered a folding chair leaning against the wall. She’d already unfolded the metal chair and sat down on it before Millikan could offer her his swiveling office chair. He seemed to be quite impressed by her speed.

  “You have played a lot of sports, haven’t you?”

  Lining nodded. By now she was used to using these Western gestures. “Yes, I used to be a competitive athlete, as you probably found out.”

  “It looked like Jiaying was one of your toughest competitors, judging from the results tables, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, that is also true.” Lining smiled, as if she was recalling a happy past. “We gave each other no quarter, but we were still friends. It was not easy, you know, because we had different coaches, and their careers depended on which one of us achieved better results.”

  She had originally planned to ask Millikan questions, but now the radio astronomer had instead slipped into the role of the interviewer. Good, this creates trust, and trust is one of the most important resources.

  “And what about later on? Did you lose track of each other?” he asked.

  “No, not really. At one point I reached the peak of my athletic career, but Jiaying still had not yet. Therefore I changed careers, but we still managed to see each other.”

  “Did you also want to become an astronaut… sorry… taikonaut?”

  “No, I am only interested in space from afar. One is already so tiny when one looks into space from Earth. What would the universe out there do with us tiny creatures?”

  “I don’t know, sorry,” Millikan replied. “I actually always wanted to become an astronaut. I just never told anyone because I thought I had no chance at all. My son, on the other hand, never wanted to go into space, and where did he end up? Life does play weird tricks on us, sometimes.”

  If Millikan only knew how right he was, Lining thought. She had in fact applied for astronaut training, but they took Jiaying—who wasn’t really sure whether she wanted to be one—instead. But that was all a long time ago.

  “And then your son meets my old friend in space, falls in love with her, and she breaks off the relationship, if we can trust the press. Is that the reason you contacted me?”

  Of course that was not the real reason, but Lining wanted Millikan to come out with it himself.

  “No.” The scientist visibly squirmed, trying to present a consistent story. “I am concerned about Jiaying’s sudden change. I found out her parents disappeared only a few days before this.”

  “You found out?” This was a new aspect. Lining was not prepared for him knowing that fact, so she was trying to buy time to think.

  “Yes. There was a talk show they were supposed to appear on, and the announcement is still listed in the station’s online program. The live program was supposed to be streamed to the internet on February 13th, but there is no trace of it.”

  Lining’s shock now turned into joy. A mistake had been made, and she could definitely blame Shixin for it. But this alone would not be enough to meet her goal. Shixin needed to be associated with a major blunder.

  “And what can I do for you?” she asked.

  “I had hoped you might have heard from Jiaying’s parents and could set my mind at ease concerning their wellbeing.”

  This was her chance. She could spend months running after that old fart Shixin and following his orders—which he barely disguised as requests—or she could spoil his plans so effectively that he would never recover. His goals probably were not in line with those of ‘Dawn,’ as the new group within the Party calle
d itself. The bad thing was she did not know what the group’s entire mission was, and she had to make a decision right now, this very second.

  It was now quiet inside the room. Outside it wasn’t very warm, so air conditioning wasn’t necessary. There was no clock on the wall ticking away the seconds. This seemed to stretch time endlessly, but Millikan made no move to start speaking.

  This is the right thing to do, she thought, and made her decision by undoing two buttons on her blouse, reaching for the clasp of her bra, and pulling out the clip-on microphone. Millikan again reacted as any man would. First he seemed curious, then he averted his gaze, and finally he blanched.

  “What is that?” he asked softly.

  “A wireless microphone. It has a reach of several kilometers. My partner is listening in at the General Store in Arbovale—that is, he would be listening in if we were not inside a shielded room.”

  “And what...” Millikan suddenly forgot what he wanted to ask her.

  “Please do not ask any questions. You have to promise me two things: you have to be content with what you hear from me; and you will never, never, ever try to contact me again, except for sending a message to Shuilian thanking her for the visit.”

  Robert Millikan nodded. He seemed to understand that he had no choice. “I promise. But you must allow me two questions.”

  “I do not know whether I know the answers or will be allowed to give them to you.”

  “We’ll see. In that case, don’t answer at all instead of giving me false information.”

  Lining nodded. “Okay, two questions.”

  “Why am I not allowed to contact you?”

  “Oh, that is an easy one—because you are being monitored continuously, not just by us, but also by your own people, and probably others, too. I will not be able to help you any further, if my willingness to assist you becomes known.”

  “I understand,” Millikan said with a nod.

  “And question number two?” He seemed to ponder it. “Just take your time,” she said.

  Suddenly he slapped his hand against his forehead and stood up, appearing as if he had just found the ultimate solution. “What do I get from you?”

  “Jiaying’s parents—alive. You want them, do you not? They are in Guantanamo right now, but I will solve that problem, I promise.”

  Millikan nodded again, turned his back to her and slowly shuffled through the room. As he walked past an old monitor, he slapped it with his hand.

  “Yes, that’s what I wanted. And what is this all about?”

  She shrugged. “Now you are asking a third question. Sorry.” It’s good that people are so similar to each other, she thought. What would I have done if he had asked the third question before the second? But people always want to know what’s in it for them, before they deal with the larger issues.

  Lining also stood up, picked up the microphone, and reattached it. She was very satisfied with herself. While she had no idea how to get Jiaying’s parents to safety, she would find a way, somehow. If Shixin’s prize disappeared, his career would certainly be over, and she would finally be named to head the department.

  “You will be told in a timely manner precisely when and where the handover will take place. Do not expect it tomorrow, because it will definitely take a few weeks. But you must in no way take the initiative. That would endanger Jiaying’s parents and yourself. Is that clear?”

  “Absolutely,” Millikan said.

  “And, as I mentioned, no one must find out about our conversation. You have no idea who works for whom here. If even a single word were to leave this room, I guarantee a bad outcome for everyone.”

  Robert nodded. She had probably scared him enough. Lining hoped for him to remain patient just long enough, because her plan would fail otherwise.

  “I wish you the best,” she said as a goodbye. “And thanks. I can find my way outside.”

  Part 2: Execution

  April 13, 2047, ILSE

  Even though they had reached the orbit of Jupiter yesterday, Martin still shuddered each time he saw the giant planet. ILSE used the gravitational pull of the heaviest object in our solar system—next to the sun—to decelerate. First the spaceship flew closely past it, with engines firing forward, and then the gas giant pulled it back like it was on a rubber band. As a result, the ship was going to leave the strongly-elliptical orbit today. Until then Martin had to endure the feeling that it would be impossible to escape the giant.

  Only after the end of his shift would he have a chance to avert his eyes. Currently, ILSE was closer to the planet than any craft since the Juno probe of the 2010s, and of course the astronomers on Earth wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. All measuring instruments on board were aimed at the planet, and Martin followed the instructions on his tablet concerning which feature he should focus on when, and for how long. He had already recorded the Great Red Spot, the largest storm in the known universe, in all wavelengths. It had been expanding for the past few years, and scientists wanted to know the reason for this phenomenon.

  Martin himself was particularly fascinated by the rapid movement of the atmosphere indicated by the enormous cloud bands. He knew that the static photos did not convey the sense of drama or the sheer size of Jupiter that the astronauts on ILSE were the first to experience so directly. For the first time in quite a while, Martin now had a sense of up and down based on external factors. His stomach was not very happy about it, since he felt as if, any second now, he was about to fall into the cloud banks of ammonia, hydrogen, and helium.

  Therefore he was glad about not having to perform a spacewalk this time. Hayato and Jiaying were doing one to reconfigure one of the DFDs so that it would be linked with the CELSS, rather than with the rest of the ship. It turned out not to be so easy, since the secondary drives needed for starting the Direct Fusion Drives had to remain on ILSE, and that meant the DFD had to change locations while activated. Luckily, it could be switched from propulsion to pure power generation. If for some reason it failed on the surface of Io, however, they would not be able to activate it again.

  Martin shrugged. It did not actually matter. Even if the active radiation protection failed, it would take Jupiter six days to completely grill them, and they were not going to stay that long. The factor that protected life on Earth—the planet’s magnetic field that kept the solar wind away—might spell their doom on Io, though. As the hydrogen in Jupiter’s core became metallic, it generated a strong magnetic field that caused rings of charged particles to form around the planet. Their current destination, the volcanic moon of Io, was located inside such a ring, which was continually fed by its active volcanoes.

  After two hours of performing measurements, Martin was relieved by Jiaying. She greeted him without looking at his face. Martin had grown accustomed to it by now. He felt best when they ignored each other as much as possible. Otherwise, she was no longer behaving strangely. She even started participating in group activities again. And during the preparation for the landing on Io, she had bent over backward, assisting everywhere, and then double-checking each necessary step. It almost seemed to Martin that she was looking forward to an adventure, even though he saw no sign of joy on her face. It was just that her never-ending activity seemed to aim toward achieving some unknown goal.

  He climbed upward from the lab in order to freshen up in the habitat ring. Whenever ILSE decelerated or accelerated, movement from module to module became more difficult, since one suddenly had to climb up and down ladders. That is why Martin was glad to finally reach his cabin after a stop at the WHC.

  A message was waiting for him. Marchenko’s voice announced, “Your father contacted you.”

  “It’s about time,” Martin said as he flopped down on his bed.

  “May I?”

  “Yes, Dimitri, you may listen in.”

  It was an encrypted video message only Martin could open. Or anyone who possesses my authorization, he thought. After he gave his approval, the video started. His father
was sitting in front of an ancient computer. The camera, probably also an older model, as the sound was not completely synchronized and the image looked a bit blurred, was focused on him. He wore a threadbare suit, and he looked tired.

  “Hello, Martin,” he said. “I wanted to wish you a happy landing on Io. Godspeed. Do astronauts still use that word? I am an old man now, and don’t know your current jargon anymore. I am sure everything will work out, also with Jiaying. Robert, over and out.”

  His father still remained on-camera, appearing as if he was thinking hard about something. Then he sniffled, before he said, “They probably don’t say that anymore, either, do they? Well, you can tell me about it back on Earth. Okay, I’ll be quiet now.”

  The video concluded. Martin turned around expecting to see Marchenko, but saw only the wall. He almost thought he had heard the Russian breathe next to him.

  “Yes, I am as amazed as you are,” he heard Marchenko’s voice say.

  “So you also have no idea what this was all about? He didn’t even mention my request, did he?”

  “Maybe he is senile by now, he...”

  “No, that can’t be.”

  “He probably did not receive another message and thought it was not worth mentioning. We were not sure about it from the very start, and we could have only listened in on Jiaying’s replies to any further messages.”

  “No, I can’t believe that, Marchenko. You know how much he already found out for us. He is a sly fox—maybe old, but he’s still got his instincts. Maybe he wanted to say something by leaving out this bit of information? Perhaps he is being monitored?”

  “So you would not put it past your father to include a second level of information?”

  “He taught me to program when I was a kid, at the age of five! It must have been his goodbye present to me.” Martin paused for a moment. “I don’t know how mentally fit he is these days.”