by Robert Graf
She remembered clearly. She’d been so nervous she could barely speak, praying Global’s first-pass EntCom wouldn't fail. "Were you there?"
"Unfortunately, no. Anyway, as they say the rest was history." He stood and picked up his paper. "We’ll discuss your ‘guidelines’ later."
Her notes in his hand? Oh shit! "Did you send the list to the ship?"
Morito's face paled. "I don't know. We'll check when we get to CAPCOM."
Jeanette frowned. "No, Dr. Morito, no one told me to."
"Well, do so right now. I'll tell Flight," he said and hurried over to the Flight Director's station.
Ann felt sorry for Jeanette. "Write a short preface in your own words. Otherwise the crew won't understand what's at stake."
“I can do that.” She thought a moment then typed: "This message contains further rules developed by Dr. Grey of Global Communication for using the EntCom. We're implementing the same guidelines here." She appended the list and tapped Send. The acknowledgement prompt appeared.
"Dr. Grey, what is the entanglement date?"
"I‘ll check."
She brought up the EntCom notes and searched through the manufacture specs. There: Entangled 01/03/2041. She turned the screen so Jeanette could see.
"Thanks, I'll pass that on."
"Remember, if you swap in the spare cores, they will have a different date."
"Yes, Dr. Grey."
Through the long afternoon, interrupted by occasional messages between Flight Control and Jove Explorer, and a brief lunch break, Ann managed to stay awake, though it took all her will power.
"It's 16:00, quitting time, Ann," Jeanette announced, removing her headset and handing it to a younger man wearing casual pants and shirt. "Ray Martinez, this is Dr. Grey from Global Communication. She's here to review the messages."
Ray smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Grey. Flight has briefed me on your role."
Ann shook his hand. "Please call me Ann. How long is your shift?"
"To midnight. We run three shifts and rotate once a week. I prefer this shift 'cause I have the day to do other stuff and get a good night's sleep."
Ann wondered about the sleep. She didn't know what arrangements had been made, and as far as she knew her bag was in the car. Oh well, someone's bound to let her know.
Fifteen minutes into Ray's shift a message appeared on the second screen. Ann studied it. "Looks good," she said. Ray copied it to the tablet and tapped Send.
The red error icon began blinking.
"Shit," Ray muttered. He glanced at Ann and blushed.
She ignored the slip. "What do you do now?"
"The tech in the other room verifies the entanglement status."
"Can I reset?" he asked into his headset. "You sure? OK, I'll resend it."
He tapped Reset, copied the message and again tapped Send.
The red icon reappeared.
Ray looked at Ann with a worried expression. "What's wrong with it, Dr. Grey?"
She went over it word-by-word and shook her head. "Nothing that I can see. There must be a factual error. How do you handle that scenario?"
He tapped Reset. "I send 'Transmission failed. Send back what you received.'" He tapped Send and the acknowledgement prompt appeared. "Good, now we wait."
Five minutes passed before lines of text began scrolling up the screen. Ann leaned over while Ray compared the partial message to the second screen.
He highlighted a line of text. "There it is.”
Ann studied the offending line: High pressure hydrogen fuel line connectors to intake B1 by pipe C1 that failed were installed and tested 06/23/2039. The fragment "and tested 06/23/2039" was missing. So the date’s wrong? "Now what?" she asked.
"I shoot this back to Flight, and they figure it out." He spoke into his headset, copied and pasted the partial message into an email window and sent it. "With the RF down, I wait a lot. It makes the shift go much slower."
Her bladder felt close to bursting. "I'll be right back," she told him and hurried out to the lady's room. She returned, feeling refreshed. "Anything?"
Ray held up his hand. "Just a minute. The Safety Director wants you back in the conference room you visited earlier. Can you find it?"
"Down the hall to the left a few doors?"
"That's it."
Ann made her way to the Conference Room, opened the door and stopped. Several men and women were seated across the table from Toffler and Morito, talking quietly. Conversation halted as they turned and stared at her. Not good. She put on her best professional face. "Director."
He motioned to a chair next to him. "Dr. Grey, if you would."
She stepped around the table and sat.
He gestured towards the group. “These are Pratt Whitney engineers. They can introduce themselves."
She counted four men and two women. No smiles. Well, two can play that game.
Morito cleared his throat. He seemed to do that a lot. "Dr. Grey, the failed transmission has caused something of a controversy."
A woman in a brown business suit opposite Ann interrupted. "Cut the crap, Morito. Her device says we're all liars and by implication caused the accident. I won't stand for it." She glared at Ann with undisguised anger.
Ann flinched as if struck. She took a deep breath and exhaled. Focus.
Toffler kept his calm expression. "Ms. Drummond is VP of Engineering and heads the group that built the engines. The assertion is that the text describing the testing date of the failed components is correct."
"You're damn right it is," the VP snarled. "That's a Criticality 1 component. My engineers signed off on that and every other component that went into those engines. There's no way some physics mumbo-jumbo can refute that fact."
Ann started to get angry. So now it's blame games? This woman wasn't about to listen to any claims by her or Morito.
"Ms. Drummond, I will tell you why I absolutely know the EntComs cannot tell a lie. While we were finishing performance testing, my husband lied about an affair he was having. The EntComs caught him at it and he confessed." She stared into the angry eyes until the woman dropped her gaze.
The room was dead silent.
"Well?" she demanded.
Drummond wouldn't meet her gaze. "We'll look further into the logs."
Toffler glanced at Ann and then the VP. "Good. Can we move on to crafting a message that can be sent and get our ship repaired?"
The VP stood. "We'll have a response within a half hour," she replied and left the room followed by her engineers — like ducks in a row.
Toffler exhaled. "Dr. Grey, you defused a very nasty situation. That took courage."
She still seethed. "That woman has a very serious problem, and I don't mean her temper. Either there was an honest mistake or a deliberate one. It’s a Challenger disaster repeat."
Morito’s expression turned grim. "Unfortunately you're correct. It took a physicist to unravel that mess."
They still didn't get it. "You've got the EntComs, use them."
Toffler’s eyebrows furrowed. "What's she talking about?" he asked Morito.
Morito face lit up. "Of course, I'm so stupid. We can use her devices to find out what caused the components to fail."
Ann interrupted. "No, that post-dates the entanglement. What you can find out is what events may have led up to it, relative to the entanglement date."
Morito expressed disappointment. "What is the date?"
"January 3rd, this year. I gave it to CAPCOM earlier."
"That's months after the engines were installed," Toffler said. "Dr. Grey, do you honestly believe this can work?"
Hadn't he been listening? She held in her temper. "Yes. Everything I've tried demonstrates that ability. Dr. Morito has run a few tests, ask him."
"She is correct, though I suspect it's not that simple." He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. "Her notes suggest using the EntComs requires great care in formulating topics for testing." He looked at Ann. "Am I right?"
; At least someone got the idea. "Yes, there are nuances I don’t understand." That was the understatement of the century. She would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious.
Toffler nervously tapped his finger on the table. "How can we trust something we don't understand? To me it smacks of magic. With all due respect, do you think Pratt Whitney will accept anything from the EntComs?"
"She's an engineer. Every engineer I've ever known was from Missouri."
He frowned. "I've no time for word games."
She never learned. "Sorry. Missouri is the 'Show-Me' state. By nature engineers are conservative, they have to be. Show an engineer that a thing works, and she'll accept it. I'll bet that even as we speak, she's raising hell with her boss."
"Maybe, but now efforts must be focused on the ship." His face registered a brief, strange expression. "The whole idea makes me very uncomfortable."
Welcome to the club.
"I've arranged for you to stay in the astronauts' training quarters. The Pratt Whitney people are also staying there."
She frowned. She wasn't under his orders and the idea of staying anywhere near that Drummond woman didn't appeal to her.
He saw her expression. "Please, don't misunderstand. I'm not trying to be high-handed. I can't order you to do anything. It’s just that you've made yourself indispensable." He gave her a tentative smile. "Please? Think of the crew."
She was much safer here than just about anywhere else on Earth, even the Vatican. "OK, if someone could show me?"
"I'll have the same driver who picked you up sent around." With that parting remark he stood and left.
Morito also stood. "I'm certain we'll see each other later."
Of that Ann had no doubt.
Ann glanced around the astronaut residence. At least it had a window. Double bed, couch, chair, all done in a beige fabric that blended well with the soft green walls and light blue rug. A table and a huge TV completed the furnishings. Best of all, the bathroom had a large shower.
She yawned; it had been a long eventful day. The cafeteria chicken and corn sat heavy in her stomach. The bedside clock indicated 10:30. Would he be awake? She tapped his code on her phone. The other end buzzed and buzzed and...
Alex’s sleepy face appeared.
Her heart skipped a beat. "I miss you," she blurted.
"Ann! You look exhausted. Where are you, in Rome?"
She wanted to curl around his voice and get lost in it. "Had a change in plans. I'm in Houston at the Johnson Space Center in the astronauts' residence getting ready for bed."
His eyes crinkled in a laugh. "From anyone else I'd suspect you're drunk. From you, I believe anything."
Would he if she really told him? "Alex, and this isn't for public consumption, NASA's Jupiter ship has had a terrible accident. I'm here to help save it." Was that too melodramatic?
His eyes widened. "Holy shit. There's been nothing in the news."
"There will be tomorrow."
"Will they survive?"
She prayed they would. "The folk who made the engines think so. The ship is two hundred million klicks out in space. I'm so afraid for them."
"What's your role?"
"Working with the EntComs, the communication system I invented."
"Not by yourself."
She wasn't ready for that conversation. "You did a search on me."
"Yes, Ann."
She couldn't read anything into his expression. "It's over and has been for more than a year."
"How does that make you feel?"
"Sad and at the same time relieved. Alex, please, not now."
"Agreed. I went through a nasty divorce years ago, and when it was finished I too felt relieved. My daughters weren't very pleased, yet today we get along fine. You'll like them."
She let out a breath she didn't remember holding. "So, we have a date?"
He grinned. "Absolutely. How long will you be there?"
"I don't know, a few days until the ship is functional."
"My boss wants me to use up my vacation. Interested?"
Was she! "Absolutely."
"I'll be here."
"Good night, Alex." She dropped the phone on the bedside table, turned out the lamp and pulled the covers over her. In minutes she was asleep.
[Thursday, Portland]
A hard jab to his side woke Farid from troubled dreams.
“Wake up, Farid, you have company."
Farid opened his eyes, dreading what Maria might have in mind. Thankfully she was clothed, though she now wore a holstered pistol. He was disoriented, not knowing what day it was or even if it was daylight. The warehouse offered no clues. He swung his feet off the metal cot, the ankle chain clinking. Next to her, head drooping, stood a handcuffed long-haired man in overalls like his. Farid blinked, "Dr. Grey!" he exclaimed.
The man looked up from blood-shot eyes. "Farid?" he asked in a slurred voice. "What's happening? Where are we?"
"We're..." he began.
Maria cut him off. “I’ll do the talking." She motioned towards the back of the warehouse. "Grey, you and Farid are going to fix your machine."
Dr. Grey turned to where she gestured, then straightened, his eyes open wide in surprise. "What are you doing with my prototype?"
"You’re going to get that thing to work. Understood?"
Dr. Grey shoulders slumped, "I feel sick." He sat down on the concrete floor and vomited, splattering Maria’s shoes.
Maria jumped back. "Christ,” she yelled, trying to shake the mess off her shoes. “Byron, get a bucket and mop and clean this mess up."
The smell from the vomit made Farid queasy.
Byron walked in holding a phone and stumbled to a halt. "Fuckall, Maria, what have you done now?"
"Never mind, just clean up this mess."
"Clean your own fucking mess, I ain't your slave. Get the other team to do it"
"They've left. You want to tell that to the boss?"
Byron's face paled. "Right, just a minute."
"What did I tell you about using phones?"
"I didn't call anyone, just listening to news."
Byron retrieved cleaning supplies and mopped up the vomit, mumbling under his breath. Maria threw her shoes in the garbage, then barefoot, gave Dr. Grey food and water and let him rest on another cot.
Meanwhile Farid evaluated the prototype, wondering who put it together? He found and fixed a short circuit and reconnected a loose wire. The displays came on, and he tried entering a line of text; the screen remained blank. He reset the breaker switch and tried again— nothing.
Farid stepped back, thinking hard. Lasers maybe? He hooked up the three phase voltage analyzer to the lasers; both tested within parameters. He was so focused he jumped at Dr. Grey's voice.
"Getting anywhere?"
Farid thought Dr. Grey looked like shit: face pale, moving slowly, eyes bloodshot. He glanced at Maria then looked away from her feral grin. "Power to the displays and lasers appears correct. Laser calibration also seems correct. I haven't done the alignment on the natronium cylinders."
Dr. Grey sighed wearily. "I'll do one, you do the other."
Half an hour later Farid was satisfied that his cylinder’s lasers were aligned correctly. "How's your side?"
Maria's impatient voice broke in. "Is it working?"
"Not yet," Dr. Grey answered.
"Get on with it. I've got a deadline to meet."
Farid's stomach was in a cold knot. Nothing worked. But what happens if it does? He didn't want to die.
"Farid, did you see the vacuum pumps and the other cylinder anywhere?"
What was he talking about? "This is everything."
"Shit. Look, power everything down. We’ll try a sequenced power restart."
"Is that why it doesn't work?"
"Probably the entanglement, yet there's a remote chance it’s still good."
Farid thought he was crazy. "Do you know the sequence?"
"I think so, though it's been a whi
le."
They turned off the power. Then he watched Dr. Grey power-up each component; he only hesitated twice. The green lasers blinked on, Farid couldn't tell if the IR lasers were on, yet the displays flashed then blanked out. His heart rate jumped. Maybe?
"Reset and enter something," Grey ordered.
He toggled Reset and sent "My name is Farid".
"My name is Farid" flashed on the receiving screen. He felt faint.
Dr. Grey sent "Christopher Columbus did not discover America in 1492". The message began blinking. He toggled the reset switch and sent "Christopher Columbus discovered America in 1492."
The message flashed on the other screen.
"We're in business," Dr. Grey announced. He looked and sounded exhausted.
Maria smiled, a face-splitting grin that turned Farid's bowels to water. Hana was right, evil djinn did exist.
"Excellent." She glanced from Farid to Dr. Grey and back to Farid. "For that, you can have something to eat and drink while I report in. Then we'll see."
[Thursday, Johnson Space Center]
Jeanette was her usual cheerful self, and to Ann's embarrassment, again dressed better. There must be someplace where she could get a decent outfit. The cafeteria breakfast wasn't the best, and she felt tired despite sleeping soundly. The weather forecast predicting heavy rain and high winds hadn't helped. Isaac was on her conscience; she didn't know what to do about him. And no word from Jon or Ian. She wasn't about to call Ian until she had something to report. The atmosphere in the FCR was even more tense than yesterday, if that were possible.
"Anything new?" she asked.
"Lots of technical exchanges. Something's being worked out to isolate the damage and restart one engine. The good news is the EntComs are working well."
"Any transmission failures?"
"There was one early this morning, but I don't know the details.”
No one had awakened her. She hoped they'd taken her suggestion to use the EntComs in their analysis. Maybe she could go home soon. She studied the screen showing the ship's location. It looked like it hadn’t moved.
