The Enceladus Mission: Hard Science Fiction

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The Enceladus Mission: Hard Science Fiction Page 14

by Brandon Q Morris


  He was now a little bit faster than Jiaying, so he would have to decelerate shortly before reaching her. He tried to grab her safety line, but it had received a sideways impulse through the impact of the carabiner. Martin added another pulse of his jets and reached Jiaying. He quickly took the hook of the spare safety line from his belly strap and latched it to the life support system of her spacesuit.

  “Well done, Martin,” the voice of the commander said. He had no time for a reply, since they would only be safe once they were docked again with the spaceship. Over the radio channel he heard Jiaying’s heavy breathing, or was it his own? It is surprising how coolly I've finished this job, one step after the other. I don't feel scared anymore because my mind has no place for it. Martin turned right to catch a glimpse of Jiaying’s face. She looked pale, but that might be due to the lighting. The control jets came on. The SAFER changed his position in space so the thrusters were aimed away from the spaceship. Now Martin could accelerate.

  “Three, two, one—rotate!” Watson had calculated all parameters and now uttered the commands. Martin’s back gently bumped against the spaceship. He reached for the edge of the bulkhead and immediately attached his line again. Then he pulled Jiaying closer via the short line and carefully maneuvered her to the hatch.

  “Thanks,” she radioed. “Jiaying secured.” Then Martin followed her in, and he manually closed the exterior hatch. Watson pressurized the airlock again. “Phew,” Jiaying said. She was still breathing rapidly. Now they could remove the upper parts of their spacesuits. He looked at Jiaying, whose life he had just saved, and he felt warm and fuzzy inside. Her hair was matted. She wiped the sweat off her forehead.

  Then she looked at him. “Thanks, Martin,” she said, smiling at him.

  This feels strange. His larynx seemed to tighten, and he had to clear his throat and look away. He hoped she had not noticed that he had broken safety regulations by flying toward her without being secured by a line. He did not know why, but he did not want her to know he had endangered himself for her sake. Jiaying sat down on a bench in the airlock, stretched her legs, and leaned back. She looked exhausted. While watching her, Martin suddenly realized how tired he was himself. He sat down as his legs started to tremble. Then he looked at the time. They had been outside for almost three hours. We still should have enough time until the flare arrives.

  “Okay, I am going to let you out fifteen minutes early,” Marchenko’s voice said. There was a squeaking sound. The hatch was being opened from the inside. Amy, Hayato, Marchenko, and Francesca were waiting for them. Martin felt embarrassed by this reception. He wanted to let Jiaying go first, but suddenly she was not in a hurry anymore. Their fellow astronauts were standing in line and shook Martin’s hand. I was only doing my job, he thought. The commander was the last one to greet him, and he studied her face. I wonder if she noticed my breach of regulations? All he saw was a warm, open smile.

  “Into the cave,” Amy finally said, and Martin was glad to hear it. The cave was the cube-shaped module just in front of the cargo containers. Here they would be protected from the high-energy radiation of the flare, even though the module was not lined by exotic materials. The reason was much simpler—the water tanks that surrounded it on the outside. Water would protect them very well, at least as long as the tanks were still mostly filled. All of them squeezed into the cave, a cube with an edge length of about two meters. After the hatch to the rest of the spaceship was closed, each of them had a wall of the cube for themselves. If they wanted to sleep, they would crawl into sleeping bags and use wall straps to secure themselves so they would not drift away in their sleep.

  Since no one knew how long the solar storm would last, the crew started to get into their sleeping bags.

  “Just a moment,” Jiaying said quietly. All of them looked at her. She cast her eyes down.

  “I am sorry I made a mistake and endangered all of you—particularly you, Martin.” She gazed at him, and he felt his face becoming red.

  “Nothing happened, after all,” he said. “And I always wanted to try out a SAFER.” That is a bald-faced lie, but I hope no one will notice it. Thinking about flying through space without a safety line makes me feel rather queasy. Luckily while it happened, I had no time to think about it.

  No one said anything. Martin wondered, What are they thinking? He was about to turn toward the wall when Marchenko broke the silence.

  “You won’t believe what once happened to me during a Russian mission.”

  Martin looked around. The faces of the crew members relaxed and they resumed securing themselves in their sleeping bags as the ship doctor began one of his many stories. Martin turned toward the wall and closed his eyes. While Marchenko told campfire tales, Martin slowly fell asleep.

  August 15, 2046, ILSE

  “Crew of ILSE, please gather in the command module.”

  The voice of Watson had just announced a kind of mobilization, not an invitation by the commander, but a sign that a message from Earth was waiting for them that the entire crew must listen to simultaneously. Martin knew such announcements were reserved for special events. He had been dozing on his bed and jumped up too fast. Now he not only felt his heart pounding, but the sudden change in posture also made him feel nauseous. His curiosity went into overdrive. What is the meaning of this command? Will we be told the mission is canceled? Has a World War broken out on Earth? Have the imaginary inhabitants of Enceladus sent a message saying they do not want any visitors? The reason for being ordered into the command module must be something very important.

  At the hub he met Marchenko, who came from the right and therefore had the right of way. Martin nodded at him, although the doctor did not seem to notice him. Martin wondered what kind of scenarios were going through Marchenko's head.

  Martin was the last one to arrive. No one wanted to gather around the dining table, as all were impatiently waiting for the commander to play the message.

  “I don’t know myself what they are going to tell us,” Amy said. Martin was not surprised. Something terrible must have happened, or at least Mission Control thought so. He managed not to become scared, even though for a long time he had been sleeping less than a meter away from the environment most inimical to life. What could happen to them? ILSE must be functioning as planned. Otherwise the message would have come via the shrill alarm sounds of the AI and not from Earth. Or, we might be dead already—which we aren't, he concluded.

  Martin looked at the others. To his right, Marchenko seemed very composed. He had his hands on his hips as he blinked his small eyes. Francesca, the pilot, floated further right. She appeared rather stressed and preoccupied. He thought, She is probably wondering, ‘What does Earth want from us now?’ Hayato was the one who most clearly exuded fear. Maybe that was due to him thinking about becoming a father. The mission affected not only his future, but also that of his child. Hayato ran his fingers through his hair and repeatedly scratched his torso. Jiaying looked rather nervous, although she must have known there was no immediate danger. It is the way the message was presented that worries her. That was what Martin assumed, anyway, when he saw her tug at her earlobes and bite her lip at the same time. What about me? What will the others think about me? He checked his posture, opened his arms, and took on a relaxed pose. I am quite calm, he thought to himself, hoping this plus his posture would influence his psyche.

  Martin had a hard time reading Amy. She seems so soft, standing there calmly in front of the others. While Francesca always took on a defensive stance, the commander gave the impression it would be easy to take her by surprise. Yet, paradoxically, this made one hesitate—and not dare to attack her. This is probably her true strength, he thought.

  “Okay,” Amy said. The others looked at her.

  “I am starting the message. Siri, play message from Mission Control.”

  “Confirmed.”

  The computer projected the image of their Indian CapCom onto the fog display. Then the computer waited until the
still image had stabilized before Devendra started to speak.

  “CapCom to ILSE.”

  Devendra’s broad smile was still there, but you could see in his eyes it was an effort for him.

  “I’ll try to be brief. First the message, then the explanation, and after that you can ask questions, which we will answer as well as we can in our next transmission.”

  Martin looked around. Jiaying had turned pale. Marchenko was gritting his teeth.

  “Mission Control has come to the conclusion that ILSE 2, which was to rendezvous with you in the orbit around Enceladus, has been hopelessly lost. This means there is a high probability your mission has failed. The scientists don’t agree yet on the degree of probability. They are tending to assume a total loss of the mission.”

  Martin shivered as he felt the blood drain from his cheeks. Devendra had just told them something that felt like a joint death sentence. They were not dead yet, but they would most probably not make it back alive. Francesca could not control herself and yelled something in Italian. Jiaying approached the table. Tears were visible on her face. Marchenko drummed his knuckles against the wall. Amy and Hayato stayed calm. The Japanese man put an arm around the commander.

  Devendra continued, “Now for the explanation. Two days ago, Mission Control attempted to wake ILSE 2 from standby mode, as planned, but without success. Your sister ship does not react to radio commands. We have already tried everything. We did not want to inform you before every possible method had been tried. Mission Control has no explanation for this failure, only guesses—actually, just one guess. The ship must have encountered a catastrophic event that made any communication impossible. We assume it was a severe meteorite hit, even though they are very improbable. If this state of things does not change, two problems will impede a successful end to your mission. First, food will become scarce. However, our experts have calculated that with somewhat reduced calorie consumption, and through extensive use of CELSS, a total loss could be avoided.”

  This meant they would probably not starve.

  “Oxygen isn’t a problem at all. You have enough electricity, and Enceladus offers plenty of water, so you can generate any missing quantity yourself. The systems are set up for splitting water into its elements. And you also have plenty of fuel. The engineers were wise enough to store the needed 30 kilograms of helium-3 on ILSE. That is the good news.”

  Jiaying wasn’t crying anymore. She sat bolt upright at the table. Marchenko had started to move through the room. Francesca was whispering something to herself. Hayato and Amy still stood there embracing. Martin felt alone now. I would like to have someone who would hug me.

  “The main problem is the reaction mass, which provides your engines with thrust,” Devendra said.

  “Deuterium, heavy hydrogen,” Hayato whispered.

  “The reaction mass you need for the return trip is stored on ILSE 2—was stored there. Well, it might still be there, but you cannot reach it. If you want to return to Earth, you have to start decelerating immediately. Even then, your trip to Earth is uncertain, as you lack the reaction mass to accelerate the spaceship for the return flight. While the supply is sufficient to accelerate to your current cruising speed, you won’t be able to decelerate again. Alternatively, you could use only half of the acceleration, but then your voyage would last twice as long, and you would probably starve. In any case, we would try to come toward you from the orbit of Mars and intercept you in time. We are already developing plans for this. Space-X is providing its ship Heart of Gold for this purpose.

  "Or you could continue your mission. Perhaps only the antenna of ILSE 2 was damaged, and the ship will be waiting for you once you reach Enceladus. If not, you are stranded there. Not a nice idea. Mission Control therefore recommends an immediate cancellation. That is all we can tell you so far. The decision is yours. We are waiting for your reply. I am sorry. CapCom, out.”

  Right after the last words from Mission Control, Amy raised her hands.

  “Please, listen to me for a moment. We do not have to rush things. It almost doesn’t matter when we make our decision. Let’s gather around the table, okay?”

  No one reacted. Martin wanted to follow Amy’s bidding, but he just could not sit down right now. Francesca and Marchenko also remained standing.

  “What do you think of the analysis provided by Mission Control?” Amy seemed to be most intent on starting a conversation.

  Martin thought, Is this a good idea?

  “They are a bunch of stupid assholes,” Marchenko snapped. “Pisdjuki! I would like to know who was responsible. A spaceship doesn’t just disappear like that.”

  “There are possible scenarios when it would happen just like this,” Martin said.

  Marchenko’s face flushed, and he took on a boxer’s stance as if he wanted to fight with Martin. In zero gravity it looked rather humorous, and Martin had to work hard not to laugh, even though he had just been essentially doomed to death. He shook his head. If I do not watch out, I might go crazy in here.

  “Slow down, Dimitri,” Hayato suggested while looking the doctor in the eyes, and the Russian seemed to calm down. “The situation seems horrible right now, but we should think things through carefully.”

  Jiaying wiped her nose. In other circumstances, she would never do that in public, Martin thought.

  “I see a few unanswered questions,” Hayato continued, “that we must discuss with Mission Control. Item 1: ILSE 2. The ship is two weeks ahead of us. That is not much. Maybe there is only a defect in its main antenna. The secondary antenna might be sufficient for communicating with our ship. We have to try that. Item 2: The reaction mass. We need about a ton of deuterium. That is not a huge quantity. However, I don’t see a way of us extracting heavy hydrogen from the ice on Enceladus. Maybe we could replace the deuterium with regular hydrogen, though.”

  “The hydrogen atoms only have half the weight,” Martin heard himself say.

  “I know. Yet the mass influences the impulse in a linear fashion. Therefore we would only have to double the flow rate. I don’t know whether the DFDs would allow it, but Mission Control can find that out. If it works, we would only have to generate two tons of hydrogen, which is produced automatically when we fill up our oxygen supplies on Enceladus. Then the ground team would at least have something to do. Why didn’t those guys come up with this idea themselves?”

  Martin shuddered in relief. Hayato had managed to make their death sentence appear much less dramatic. Not everyone seemed to agree, though.

  “I think we should turn around,” Francesca said.

  This surprised Martin. The pilot, of all people, who had never let anything intimidate her?

  “I am tired of playing the hero for Earth. They have not managed to develop a safe mission, and now we are supposed to pull their chestnuts out of the fire. All this sounds very familiar to me.”

  Is this in relation to some of her previous military missions? Martin could very well imagine that.

  “Francesca is right,” said Marchenko while moving across the room. “This was a kind of suicide mission from the very beginning, but at some point we reach our limits. I am in favor of voting on it.”

  The commander shook her head. “It is too early for that. There are two questions we need answered. We will not make any decisions before we have those answers.”

  August 16, 2046, ILSE

  “Good morning.” Amy greeted them. “Mission Control is having Princeton Satellite Systems check how a doubled flow rate would affect the engines. And we have received a task concerning ILSE 2.”

  Martin had not slept well during the night, and neither had any of the others. Jiaying was yawning, and Francesca floated near the door with her eyes closed.

  “Did you all hear me? If would be nice if you would show some reaction.” One could tell the commander’s nerves were frazzled. “And where, by the way, is Marchenko?”

  No one answered.

  “Martin, could you go and check in his ca
bin?” she asked.

  Martin frowned. Why me?

  “Please, Martin,” Amy said.

  He forced himself to nod, and then he asked, “And what does Mission Control want from us?”

  “They realized it might actually be a good idea if we tried to establish contact with ILSE 2. Perhaps there is only a defect in that ship’s main antenna. We are much closer to it. Our transmission power might be sufficient to reach the spare antenna intended for shorter ranges.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Francesca, who now seemed to be fully awake.

  “We have to adjust our antenna,” Amy replied.

  “Couldn’t the AI take care of that?” Martin suggested. “When we decelerate a few months from now by aiming the engines forward, our antenna will be turned 180 degrees anyway, won’t it?”

  “That’s true, Martin, at least in theory,” Amy said. “In practice, the main antenna automatically aims itself toward Earth. No matter what happens to the ship, even if all other systems fail, the antenna will still be able to send a distress call in the right direction—even if ILSE should start to tumble.”

  “Clever idea,” Martin remarked.

  “Unfortunately, the system is truly autonomous. Watson does not have access to it.”

  “And how can we change that?” Francesca asked, sounding as if she already knew the answer. Amy understood and smiled.

  “You must have guessed it. We do it the good old-fashioned way—by hand.”

  “Oh, Mitya would like that. It's too bad he overslept.” No one but Francesca used Marchenko’s first name, and she had only recently started doing so.

  “How exactly would this work?” Martin would have preferred to write a program modification, but he suspected they were due for another EVA.

  “Our 4-meter-dish is located on a ball coupling and can be rotated in any direction by linear motors. These motors are not very strong, and the antenna hardly weighs anything. We go outside, turn it to the correct position, and hold it there until we have contacted ILSE 2. As soon as the EVA crew lets go, the motors will align the dish with Earth again.”

 

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