Throwing Snowballs at Xanadu
By Bartholomew Thockmorton
Copyright 2011 Bartholomew Thockmorton
And wash behind your ears, dad-nabbit!
This work is dedicated to Mama, who gave me my life-long love for Jack Kirby.
I miss you.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Thockmorton Territory
Chapter One
Somewhere in the unimaginably vast expanse of interstellar space, the fabric of reality rippled wildly, stretching inside out as the arriving warp-hole expanded, obscuring the background field stars in the absolute blackness of its event horizon. Spanning some three hundred meters, it stabilized with the barest shimmering of visible electromagnetic discharge at the edges. Moments later, the exploratory ship B.O.B. slid into normal space and the hole collapsed back to sub-Planck dimensions, vanishing into quantum virtual non-existence. On the vessel’s bridge, Samuel Roy Hinderken disengaged the warp generators, channeling the additional power to the graviton drive-shield while glancing over the read-outs, graphs and charts popping up on the monitors. Much of the information was routed directly to his cerebral-interface implants via the data-cable plugged into the socket behind his right ear, but some data still needed visual scanning; end-jumps were always a busy time for the pilot of a System Searcher. The primary viewer flickered to life, displaying a vista rich in stars, with one, many magnitudes brighter, centered in the screen.
“All right…we’re through, Betty. How’s everything in engineering?” The voice activated inter-ship communication circuit freed his hands for the abundance of initial information flooding through the main board.
“Peaches and cream,” came the cheerful replied. “Probably the smoothest jump so far, Sammer-yammer. Engines and inertials held with less than a five-percent power deviance. Don’t know if it’s ‘cause you’re getting better, or if it has anything to do with this being our farthest leap yet.”
“Definitely my superior piloting skills,” replied Sam. He knew Betty would gladly engage him in verbal gymnastics. “And I’ll thank you to refer to me as Lord Hinderken, Master of the Space Ways.”
The young woman’s explosive snort sounded as dismissive as it was derisive. “Yah-ha, Sam-bone-head. Keep that up and you’ll be eating squiggles and mash for a week, mixed with dust-bunnies and jellied vole! You got enough data to feed the Saras?”
Sam smiled while working the board. Betty’s insatiable habit of assigning whimsical sobriquets to everything onboard had long since ceased to amaze him. She had even programmed Charlie, the ship’s main computer, with a random-variable personality, including a change in gender depending on whom he/she was addressing. A System-Accentuation-Radar-Analyzer, or “Sara,” in Betty-speak, was her tag for a high-definition probe. But, radar was the least of its functions, which included spectrography and doppler analysis.
One thing still challenging Sam’s patience was explaining to other System Searchers that the ship had not been christened “Bob,” but rather the bee-dot oh-dot bee-dot stood for “Bucket O’ Bolts,” a reverse compliment on his mechanical abilities. Betty knew his expertise with machinery was second only to his piloting skills acquired during his stint in the Intersystem Navy.
Sam routed the summarized data to a temp cache ultimately bound for the probes. “Charlie, can you verify this?”
The computer, with protocol to speak only when necessary, sighed. “Sure, sure…not that I have anything better to do at the moment. A new system…a million tasks to perform. But checking your work is what I live for,” came the computer’s dour reply. “Data confirmed, Sam. Should I send the usual program to Sara I and Sara II?”
“SOP’s will do fine, Charlie. Betty? I’m ready to warp the probes. We’re just over a light day from the star and inclined 47-degrees. Let’s stick the girls roughly three-light hours above and below…should know one way or the other within 12-hours.”
“So launch, already! We don’t find a suitable planet soon, we might as well regale ourselves to freight hauling!” A sore point with Betty was despite long months of searching, they had yet to find a single planet appropriate for immediate colonization. It mattered little that the other 20-plus System Searchers had also failed to locate an earthlike planet in the brief months of the fleet’s existence. She dreamed of being first; she wouldn’t even settle for a borderline terra-forming candidate.
“Aw, Betts…you know that’s not fair…”
“So? We’re 2039-light years out and still no jackpot!”
“I relent! Uncle, already! We’ll find one, kid. You just need to be patient…and cheer up!”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Anyway…I’m starving! After you kick the Saras out, meet me in the mess!”
Sam was halfway to the control room hatch. “Last one’s a rotten field-stabilizer!”
“Give it up, Samsaru! I’m already there!”
***
Nine-hours later, Sam and Betty leaned excitedly over the control room’s plotting/projection table. Neither had slept, the excitement of charting a new system keeping their energy levels high. Above the table floated a holo-cast of the system with exaggerated scales.
“Well, chief…what’s the verdict? Are we rich or not?” She impatiently shifted her weight between her feet, all but vibrating.
“Steady, old girl, steady. Have to admit, it didn’t take the Saras long to generate a preliminary map. This stuff began arriving on the subspace gravitrino circuits almost as soon as the probes were in position…”
“And…and? Enlighten me, o knowledgeable one!”
“Spectral type G sun…smack in the middle of the main-sequence swath. Almost Sol’s twin…but we already knew that. Seven planets…nothing unusual there…five rocks and two gas-giants…I’m using the classification loosely. Number six is less than a third the size of Neptune and the last one-half the size of Jupiter!”
“Huh…that’s strange,” muttered the young woman, edging closer. “Something sure messed with this system’s development. Still, there might be some smaller stuff as yet to be plotted. Look at this,” she pointed to the screen while glancing at the hologram. “Are these comets? I count one…two…five currently within the inner planets? And no asteroid belt? I thought those things were unavoidable…where’d all the accretion leftovers go?”
“Probably in the Kuiper belt…it’s the largest we’ve encountered!” Sam tapped a few keys. The holo-cast shrank, affording greater scale as thousands of tiny sparkles appeared far beyond the orbit of the seventh planet. “The density thins once off the system plane, but still extends 15-degrees above and below. Over 300-thousand and piling up quickly, and with a sensitivity threshold of five-kilometers. Nothing there to shepherd them either. I’ll bet the Oort is swarming!”
“How bizarre…few planets and lots of building materials,” Betty began pacing around the table. “A real gravitational contradiction, if you ask me. Did you check for recent fly-bys?”
“Sure did! No signs of mass transfer…nearest star is 5.4-light years out. But it did pass within 1.2-light years about four to five million years ago. Certainly nothing close enough to strip something as large as a planet. But something’s sure scattered the Kuiper zone. Did I mention number four is in the middle of the HZ?” Sam tried to hide his smile while waiting for Betty’s reaction
“Oh! You jerko!” She was by his side in an instant. “Why didn’t you tell me that to begin with? Who cares about dirty snowballs when a HZ world waits? Did you chart the atmosphere?”
Sam took Betty’s hands and
pulled her closer. “Just a warm soup of oxygen, nitrogen and other trace gasses.” Sam continued before she could ask the obvious questions. “Nothing important…just telltale signs of an ecosystem having plants, animals and…an ocean or two!”
Betty practically glowed with excitement, her voice an almost inaudible whisper. “Sambro…please tell me there’s a moon…”
“Oh yeah, babe…and an axial tilt of 31-degrees…”
Betty screamed in delight, whirling and hugging Sam as he struggled to breath while trying to keep her from breaking his neck.
***
Sam brought the B.O.B. into a comfortable 2000K orbit, while Betty launched three comsats to geo-synchronous positions. Their trip inward took three days, during which Betty ran planetary scans almost continually. She went so far as to reassign the Saras to new positions 30-light minutes perpendicular to the solar plane, concentrating analysis to the inner regions. Last, she launched two mapping satellites; one with a staggered latitudinal orbit and the other following an offset longitudinal flight. Shortly, Charlie would be generating maps with resolution down to a square kilometer.
Betty had eventually stopped dancing and manhandling Sam at every encounter. But both admitted they had, beyond a doubt, hit the proverbial gold mine. After crossing number seven’s orbit, the data collected would have filled volumes.
When Betty felt certain there was nothing else she could do, or launch, or program, she joined Sam in the ship’s lounge. He sat sipping coffee, stocking feet propped on the table as he watched large-scale surface details pass on the wall’s view screen. She poured a cup for herself and leaned on the table beside him.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sammie! Is that your feet I smell? When did you last shower?”
He ignored her, so she changed the subject. “I still say we should have warped here…”
“Going to start that again?” he sighed. “Honeybunch, warping the Saras is one thing…they’re easy enough to replace. But the system’s simply too cluttered to risk the ship like that…or us for that matter. One 100-meter rock while we’re at a quarter light-speed and someone else cashes in on this bonanza!”
“Yeah…well…maybe so,” she replied, staring into her cup. “I’m just impatient…and stoked we found an inhabitable planet. We can pay off the ship and still be set for years! Zoom in some, will you…”
Sam switched to a closer view. Below, a continent slid to the left as sizeable islands slowly entered the screen. Inland, mountains stretched northward and a river valley lay between the range and the ocean. The river met the sea with a broad delta threaded with numerous tributaries lush with the greens and browns of coastal vegetation.
“Almost too good to be true,” he sighted. “Atmosphere and surface pressure so like Earth’s the difference is almost negligible. Mountains, valleys, forests…even pack ice at the poles. In all important characteristics, perfect for the human species.”
“Charlie says it’s so close it’s spooky. This beauty’s going to put us in the history books…or discs…whatever. When do we go down?”
“Any time you’re ready…the lander’s loaded. Want to get some rest before the descent?”
Betty gave him an incredulous glare. “Are you serious? I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to! I can go a couple more days on stims easily!” She left the room while still talking. “I’ll warm up the engines. You put on some boots…and shave, for goodness sakes! I don’t want to be seen with a tramp! History in the making and you’re imitating Emmett Kelly! If you don’t show in five-minutes, I’m leaving without you!”
Chapter Two
An hour later, the lander, or Flipper-Doodle (as Betty called it), detached from atop the B.O.B. and banked downwards. The ship’s propulsion shield flared brightly as Sam executed course adjustments, entering the atmosphere and angling towards the landmass below.
“What do you think, Betts? Inland, island or ice-land?”
“To heck with the cold weather, Samster. I’m partial to some plains with nearby mountains…maybe a river within easy reach. But not too far from the ocean…I need samples.”
Sam turned the craft in compliance. Biology and geology were her specialties; her first priority would be flora, fauna, and the possibility of developed species. Although their scans and mappings had eliminated the likelihood of civilization, the lack of large cities, bridges and smog did not preclude intelligence of a lesser technological existence.
“When we drop below 15,000 meters, go subsonic,” she instructed. “I don’t want to startle any critters with sonic booms.”
“Five-by-five, Betts. What about that LZ?”
“I have just the place,” she replied, bringing up a map and pointing to an area to the north. “Let’s land in this valley…close to the river. I’m getting readings on life forms, and any natives would likely choose an area like this.”
Sam slowed the ship as they drew closer to the landing zone. They did a low flyby and selected an open area. Sam brought the Flipper-Doodle down, hovering at a few hundred meters as Betty ran final checks.
“Yeah…I was right,” she said. “The soil’s much too soft to take the weight, we’ll need to wrap AG fields around the landing struts. It’s an alluvial environment…the bedrock’s deep. An excellent place to take bore samples!”
The ship settled, and large, circular depressions appeared around each strut. When the ramp lowered, Betty bounded down and walked across the sward carrying a pole adorned with a triangular flag. She looked about, and choosing a large rock, planted the pole into the soft soil.
“I declare you Unspunnenstein!” she proclaimed, standing proudly with a hand on her hip and one foot on the rock.
“Betts…how can you possibly give this world such an unwieldy name?” asked Sam, coming down the ramp. “Where did you get that flag? Just because Charlie’s recording everything, you’re going goofy?”
“I’ve been keeping it in the back of my closet, Mister Smarty! For your information, I didn’t name the planet…just this rock! Which, if you hadn’t noticed, is obviously special…do you see any others nearby? It may be an erratic…deposited here by a glacier, or severe flood sometime in the past.” She bent, taking a closer look at the rock. She gave a not quite inaudible grunt and returned her attention to Sam.
“Okay, I’ll bite, Betts…why name a rock?”
“Don’t be such a boor,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Ask Charlie when we’re not busy. Charlie! Oh, Charlie?”
“Yes, dear,” answered a soft, feminine voice via their helmet radio. “Want me to start unpacking the boring equipment?”
“Yes, I want two samples…one from here and the other over near those trees by the river,” said Betty, pointing. “Also, break out the sky-cycle…I’m going reconnoitering.”
Betty flipped down her visor surveying the surrounding area while panels on the underside of the ship opened, dropping two-dozen half-meter sized metallic globes. Spindly legs telescoped outward, the optical ports opened and each spider-bot began unloading equipment from the ship’s storage panels. One group of skittering workers began assembling a drill gantry for the soil samples while another worked at assembling Betty’s air-scooter.
“Look over there Samurai,” said Betty, indicating a distant herd of grazing animals. “Seems to be quite a few of them…they’re small…can’t mass but ten or fifteen kilos. What do they remind you of?”
Sam lowered his visor and the herd grew in size with the increase in magnification. He noted their thin, hoofed legs and their long necks bending gracefully as they tore mouthfuls of grass from the ground. “Some sort of dwarf antelope? Somewhere between an okapi and a Thompson’s gazelle, maybe. They’re tiny, that’s for sure.”
“I see some others way over there,” said Betty, pointing. “Shorter necks and longer legs…and they’re small too. This much grass on a fertile plain and no large herbivores? And where are the predators? With this many grazers, there should be at least a few carnivores lazing about. I’ll ha
ve to keep an eye open for larger life forms once I’m airborne.”
“So…what are you going to name it?”
“I’m going to hold off till we’ve eliminated the possibility of intelligent species,” she replied. “I don’t want disgruntled locals resenting my giving their home a name if they’ve already got one. But I tell you…some onagers, a little wattle-and-daub, a few peasants working the fields, and I’d be tempted to call it Mesopotamia.”
“Well, be careful. The scooter’s shield will protect you in the air. Take a sidearm…you might need it if you land.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, giving Sam a smart salute. “Just stay out of trouble while I’m gone!”
***
Before long, Betty flew over the valley. The scooter lacked a hull, amounting to little more than two seats mounted on structural tubing surrounding the propulsion unit and power plant, so she had an open view. The propulsion field blocked wind turbulence, and the inertials minimized gee-forces, so Betty was spared discomfort. Aft of the vacant seat behind her, a spider-bot, legs retracted, rested on a small pedestal, magnetically secured and free to rotate in any direction, its optical port recording anything of interest.
“Charlie, you look for larger animals and artificial constructs,” instructed Betty. “I’ll fly a spiral with 20-klick passes. You see anything, let me know!”
“Affirmative, mistress. Sam’s started on the first bore and I’m gathering samples. I’m also patrolling the river.”
For the next two hours, Betty kept to her flight plan while Charlie scanned terrain. They deviated only when they tarried over the mountains to the west, and once when they followed the river seaward. Everywhere, trees and vegetation remained lush, and they passed over dense forests as they approached the coast. Betty spotted numerous herds of grazers and some large flocks of birds, scattering at the scooter’s approach. But there were no signs of larger creatures, or of predators hunting the animals of the fields.
Throwing Snowballs at Xanadu Page 1
