When the job was done, she flagged him over and asked for help. He reached as far as he could into the ram scoop and scraped off some of the residue into the dish, then handed it to Myra. “Let me know what you find,” he said.
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Chapter 20
Slingshot
Cleaned up and back in her coveralls, Myra Lee stepped into command and control, sporting a wry grin and handed Lisa Henry a sealed, transparent box. Inside was a Petri dish full of brownish, black sludge. “A gift ... from Jupiter."
Lisa took the sealed container, carefully set it down on the console, stood, and almost tackled her boss with a hug. Then she retrieved the box and peered at the dish within, as though she could discern its secrets with her naked eyes. “I take it there's something alive in here."
"We think there could be.” Myra sat down at the console and checked that the data upload from the shuttle was complete. Satisfied, she took a moment to search through the shuttle's logs, then brought up an image of the gigantic, fleshy creatures they'd encountered floating in the planet's atmosphere.
Natalie Freeman, sitting at the command console, looked up at the display and stepped over to the biosciences station. “What in the world are those?"
Lisa's eyes went wide. “They're alive, aren't they?"
"We're pretty sure they are,” said Myra. “If they are, they need to feed on something. I think whatever it is must be in that Petri dish. I'd like you to take a look and see if you can figure it out."
"Thanks,” said Lisa. “I'll get on it right away."
"Let me get this straight,” said Freeman, standing ramrod straight. “You brought something alive from Jupiter aboard the ship?"
"It's just residue from the shuttle's ram scoop,” said Myra. “It would have come aboard no matter what we did."
Freeman's brow furrowed. “So, it went through the vacuum of space.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I suppose that means whatever's in there is dead."
"Probably,” said Myra. “Although it's not definite. There could have been just enough of Jupiter's atmospheric gas trapped in the sludge to keep a microscopic organism alive. However, it won't last long. I suspect our atmosphere would be poisonous to whatever's in there. They're running the decontamination sequence on the shuttle now, just to make sure it's clean."
"So, if it's likely the organisms are dead, why are you having her test the sludge?” Freeman shook her head, confused.
"We'd still see the evidence of the organism,” said Lisa. “It might be nothing more than tracks where they moved through the sludge or tiny bubbles showing respiration, but if there are microscopic organisms, we should see some evidence they were there."
"There's something more,” interjected Myra. “The giant creatures—presuming they are alive—vocalized much like whales. Jenna Reynolds is converting the tapes we recorded into a binary sequence. We'll try our translation program on their language."
Lisa patted Myra on the arm. “I think that's a bit too much to ask ... that whale-like creatures on Jupiter should speak the very same language as whales on Earth."
"Well...” said Myra. “The whales on Earth started speaking some hitherto unknown language. If aliens taught it to them, why wouldn't they teach the same language to the ‘whales’ on Jupiter?"
Lisa held up the box again. “I suspect I'll have more luck finding something alive in here."
"If you do find something alive,” began Freeman, “let me know, so we can get the bio lab sterilized. I don't want something alien crawling around on this ship."
Lisa laughed. “Natalie, you really have watched too many of those twentieth century science fiction shows."
* * * *
Thomas Quinn returned to his quarters to take a shower. Once done, he stepped out, toweled off, and looked at himself in the mirror. He reached a tentative finger toward his nose, then pulled it back with a slight yelp. He scowled, thinking Jefferson had treated him unfairly. After all, he was the one who built the Aristarchus while Jefferson sat languishing as an underpaid engineer for the competition. Quinn himself knew the ship's capabilities better than anyone else. Who was that has-been astronaut to tell him what he could and couldn't do with his own ship? Even so, Quinn knew he had taken a rather arrogant tone with the captain, a man he admired and the very man he had hired to see to the safety of the ship.
That last thought prickled at Pilot's conscience. Technically, the ship wasn't his at all. It belonged to his father. Pilot thought about his brother playing video games as a child and learning to play financial games at college. Those experiences couldn't compare to what he'd just seen and experienced first-hand in the clouds of Jupiter. He smiled, suddenly feeling justified in pursuing science instead of business. With a sigh, Quinn realized he didn't have time for introspection. He needed to get the ship onward to Saturn. Much as the discoveries they'd made so far on the voyage had advanced science decades or even centuries, Titan was where the big prize lay.
After getting dressed, Pilot made his way up the ladder into the central hub of the Aristarchus. Looking out at Jupiter, he took a few minutes to remember the creatures he'd seen on the planet. He floated in front of the console and closed his eyes. For just a few moments, he allowed himself to imagine he was a miles-wide creature drifting in the winds of Jupiter. The throbbing in his nose brought him back to the task at hand. He set to work calculating the slingshot out of Jupiter's orbit.
* * * *
Jenna Reynolds knocked on the door of Myra Lee's cabin. The biologist answered the door, wearing her nightgown. She yawned. “Didn't you get any sleep?"
"I haven't been able to.” Jenna shrugged.
Myra invited her in and looked at the time. “I should be getting up, anyway,” she said. “What can I do for you?"
"I converted the creature's songs into binary code.” Jenna stepped over to the table and fell into one of the two chairs. Her wide eyes scanned the room, looking at pictures of whales and sailing ships on the walls.
"Very good.” Myra stepped over to the small kitchenette alcove and started some coffee brewing, then joined Jenna at the small round table. She picked up the keyboard and displayed the translation program on the video display unit. “Now, where's the file?” she asked. Jenna told her and she typed it in, trying to stifle a yawn. Looking up, she was glad to see that the coffee had finished brewing. She resumed the program, then stood and retrieved a cup. She offered one to Jenna.
"No thanks,” said the computer technician who stood and paced. “I really do need to get off to bed soon. I was just anxious to see if we had a match."
Myra sipped her coffee as she padded back to one of the blue chairs by the table and sat down. Looking up, she smiled. “Bingo. It looks like the creatures on Jupiter also have a line open to the keepers of the rings. They're using many of the same words. I'll send this to Cristof and Harmer. It should help us build up some more words for the database."
Jenna dropped down on the edge of the bed. “So what do you think we're going to find at Saturn? More whales in the clouds?"
"I begin to wonder.” Myra took another sip of her coffee. Looking up, she noticed Jenna had fallen backward on the bed and was snoring softly. Myra lifted the technician's feet onto the bed and pulled a blanket over her, letting her get some well-earned sleep.
* * * *
Lisa Henry whistled to herself as she labeled a number of microscope slides—difficult with the gloved fingers of the biohazard suit she wore—then put a sample of the sludge from the Petri dish on each one. She began to think she would give a lot of money for an electron microscope and she hoped the old fashioned microscope in the ship's biology lab would be sufficient to see any signs of life.
There was a knock at the door. “If you're suited, come in,” she called cheerily.
Neb O'Connell stepped in. “How are you doing this morning?"
"The boss brought me a present from your trip to Jupiter.” She held up the Petri di
sh.
"She brought you slime?” Neb blinked several times, then dropped into a chair.
"Well ... yes.” Lisa smiled. She mounted one of the slides in the microscope and took a look, adjusting the magnification. With a shake of her head, she set the slide aside and mounted a new one.
"I came to ask if you wanted to get some breakfast,” said Neb. “It just wasn't the same making the trip to Jupiter without you."
"Yeah, Myra showed me pictures of the creatures you saw.” Lisa sounded distracted. She stood up, blinked, and then looked again. “Say, come over here a moment and tell me what you see in the microscope."
Neb stepped over and bonked the faceplate of his suit into the eyepiece. Lisa showed him how to look into the microscope while wearing the suit. He tried again. Standing, he shrugged. “I dunno, it looks like a speck of sand or something cut a groove in the gunk."
"Exactly,” said Lisa. “I think we found our microscopic organisms. The creatures you saw on the planet were alive. They feed on the thing you just saw in the microscope."
"Good for the creatures on the planet,” said Neb. “I need something a little bigger to feed on. Are you coming?"
Lisa held her hand to her faceplate, blew a kiss, and then touched Neb's faceplate. “Let's go eat,” she said.
* * * *
Pilot clambered down into C-and-C from the central hub, went to his console, and brought up the flight plan. He stepped over to the thruster control console and talked to Daryl LaRue, then double-checked his calculations with Kurata Nagamine, sitting at the external sensors console. Looking up, he saw Captain Jefferson sitting at the central console. “We're ready to execute the maneuvers to take us out of orbit, Captain,” he reported.
"Very good,” said Jefferson. “I'd like to take a look at your calculations for myself."
"I assure you.... “Pilot looked down at his feet for a moment, then looked back up. “Yes, of course, sir.” He stepped over and typed a command on the captain's console bringing up the information.
Jefferson looked over the numbers and nodded his approval. “Carry on, Mr. Alonzo."
Pilot stepped over to his console, entered several commands, then pointed at Daryl, who in turn fired the thrusters, adjusting the ship's course. Once again, the solar sailing ship fell toward Jupiter, but this time on a carefully controlled trajectory. The ship would not hit the planet, but be thrown around it. Pilot brought up a chart that showed the ship's speed. The ship had orbited Jupiter at a speed of two kilometers per second. As the ship fell toward the planet, it rapidly accelerated until it whipped around the other side of Jupiter at thirteen kilometers per second. “Whoo hoo,” said Pilot, his hand in the air. “We're on our way! Next stop is Saturn!"
* * * *
After the successful slingshot maneuver, Pilot was happy to take a watch in C-and-C. The captain took the opportunity to find Natalie Freeman. She sat in the ship's galley holding an animated discussion with Angus MacDonald about the value of red peppers in cooking.
The cook shook a meat cleaver menacingly. “Och! What good is food you canna eat?"
"You should talk.” Natalie folded her arms. “You're the one who makes us eat haggis on Burns Night."
MacDonald caught sight of Jefferson standing in the doorway. “Well, I do admit it's a lot better with scotch, but he willna let us have any."
Jefferson held out his hands. “Don't blame me,” said the captain. “She agreed with those rules.” Then he looked at Natalie. “Would you mind coming with me for a moment, Captain Freeman?"
"Sure thing.” She stood and followed the captain to the ship's observation lounge.
Jefferson closed the door. Through the porthole in the floor, Jupiter already appeared smaller than when they'd been in orbit. “Sorry to pull you away from your off time, but I need to know something. Have you figured out what Thomas Quinn is looking for at Saturn? I presume this isn't just some joyride."
Freeman shrugged. “I have no idea, Captain. Sorry."
The captain gritted his teeth and sat down. “The President of the United States put you on this ship to find out what Pilot was up to. I can't imagine that we've been away from Earth for a year and a half and you still have no idea."
Freeman put her hands on her knees. “Why are you suddenly so concerned?"
Jefferson held his hand out toward the porthole. “Because of what he did at Jupiter. He nearly destroyed the ship trying to save the mission. I don't buy that he did that because he's little more than a teenager and reckless. He's too smart for that. I think he expects to find something further on that's worth dying for—or worse yet, something he thinks is worth all of us dying for."
Natalie Freeman looked down. Jupiter disappeared from the porthole as the ship's spin continued. “Don't you think you may be overreacting? Quinn designed this ship. He knows what it can and can't do ... better than you."
The captain sat back as though she'd hit him. “You're the last person aboard this ship I'd expect to defend Thomas Quinn."
"Why is that? Just because I was sent aboard this ship to find out what he's doing? That doesn't make me his enemy. I'm simply doing my best to make sure the interests of the United States are being served."
"You do know something,” said Jefferson, matter-of-factly. He shook his head. “I know better than to press a trained military officer for details, but I just want to know this.... Are we getting in over our heads?"
Freeman stared at the porthole for several minutes, watching Jupiter come back into view. “I don't know,” she finally admitted. Jefferson started to say something, but she held up her finger, stopping him. “All I ask is that you trust me. Quinn's my responsibility, not yours. I'll ask for your help if I need it."
"Fine. But the ship's my responsibility."
"I will say this,” said Freeman. “I've observed Quinn long enough to know he's in this for the intellectual prize. He may not care much about your life or mine. To be honest, I don't even think he cares about Quinn Corp. He does care about his own life, though. He will do everything in his power to make sure he gets his prize. That means he'll keep this ship safe. If he dies, he loses."
"I hope you're right.” Jefferson ran his fingers through gray hair. “I'm getting too old for this."
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Chapter 21
Repairs En Route
The Aristarchus sailed on to Saturn at a speed determined less by the diminishing sunlight and more by the gravitational boost gained from the slingshot around Jupiter. Two weeks along, and Jupiter had already shrunk to the size of a ping-pong ball in the rear windows of the ship's central hub. Captain Jefferson called a meeting of the senior officers to discuss the repairs of sail number three. Pilot outlined two possible courses of action: “First option is that we just ‘wing walk’ out to the stress fracture. There are handholds on the sails as well as points we can clip on safety lines. The advantages of doing that are we conserve fuel in the tow shuttle, in case we need it later, and we can visually inspect the sail as we go, making sure there aren't any other stress fractures we're not detecting."
Daryl LaRue chewed on his lip and Vanda Berko shook her head. “Pilot,” she said, “you're talking about a three-mile climb along a rotating sail. If anyone looks out at the stars, they're going to get dizzy and disoriented. This ship spins pretty fast and it's going to be very noticeable the further you go out on the sail. In fact, the gravity perception will increase out there. You'll feel like you're about to be flung out into space."
"Not to mention that those sails, though strong, are low mass. They'll sway under the weight of a team of people.” Daryl put his hands in the pockets of his coveralls. “It could even be enough to turn the sail and change our course. I don't really like that option."
"Me either.” Pilot nodded. “That brings us to option two, which is a little trickier, but probably better all around. We take the tow shuttle out and match the Aristarchus' spin. Four people spacewalk out on safety lines and do the
repair. The disadvantage is that it'll be some tricky maneuvering. If anything goes wrong and the shuttle hits a sail, we'll be worse off than we are now. We'll need to work fast, since the fuel supply on the shuttle isn't indefinite. The advantage is, done right, we could be finished with the job in about an hour."
"There is a third option,” said Daryl. “We could simply leave the sail alone as we talked about before. There's not that much pressure on the sail. It will probably survive the rest of the voyage even if we take no action."
Captain Jefferson shook his head. “I'd feel better if we at least tried to repair the sail.” He moved around the command console, running his fingers along the edge. From the opposite side, he looked up. “If there are any signs of problems, though, we'll abort and leave well enough alone. How's that?"
"Sounds fine to me,” said Pilot. With that, he named off the members of the repair crew, which included Berko, LaRue, and two mechanics. “I'll fly the shuttle. Let's get our gear together this afternoon and we'll fly out first thing tomorrow morning."
* * * *
While the technicians assembled their gear, Myra Lee read through her email from Earth. She was delighted to see a message from Cristof and Harmer. Attached were a program and a video file. She played the video file and was delighted to see Stirling Cristof's face appear on her display.
"Hey, Myra,” he said. “Between the data from that Martian disk and the songs from those creatures on Jupiter, we think we have a rudimentary translation program for you. It will take binary encoded sequences and translate them into a printed message on your monitor. In turn, you can type in a message and it should turn it into a binary encoded audio message that the ring keepers should be able to interpret."
When the message finished, Myra installed the program and tried it out. She typed in “Hello there.” A few seconds later, a set of tones issued from the speakers.
Captain Jefferson stepped up to her console. “The language of our Saturn people?"
"Presuming there are Saturn people.” Myra shrugged.
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