The Hole

by Brandon Q Morris

  “OGS, deactivate screen.”

  Now she was looking at a bare wall once more. This office was the only room in the building sporting the expensive technology integrated directly into the wall surface. Zetschewitz had insisted on it before signing a contract to conduct his research at the observatory. It was supposedly intended for visualizing data models, which turned the entire office into a planetarium. It was rare for researchers to have their professional demands met before working here. The Observatario was one of the top three astronomical observatories worldwide, but Zetschewitz was obviously so brilliant that the institution considered hiring him a major asset. Will I ever get that far? she wondered.

  The computer made a pinging sound. Maribel sat down and opened the message. Her file was ready! She rubbed her hands and entered the command to transfer everything into local storage. Since the observatory was connected to the supercomputer via fiber-optic cable, it would only take a few seconds.

  ‘Transfer Complete’ the onscreen message read. If she had done everything correctly, she should now see an exact image of the solar system: eight planets, numerous dwarf planets, millions of asteroids. This would confirm she had successfully managed the first part of her task, which was adapting the model the researchers used in the 2019 article to contemporary hardware and testing whether this worked correctly. Maribel was sure she had done a good job and left no room for error, but she was still unusually tense. She was a scientist. Even at the age of 11 she had been reading scholarly journals. She did not care for mysterious premonitions or gut feelings. There were known facts and facts not yet known. In spite of this, she actually had a premonition now that something bad was about to happen.

  Maribel wiped her hand across her forehead but felt no sweat. What was she really afraid of—that she would not fulfill her boss’s expectations? As a person, the man was an asshole, but he was also a great researcher. She knew he would not make it easy for her, but this first assignment was not that difficult. The next step requested by Zetschewitz would take her more than twelve hours of work. An entire galaxy was a much more complex structure than our solar system.

  The challenge was like comparing a cup of sand to the 16 kilometers of beach at Costa Adeje. While humans might be able to measure all the grains of sand in a cup, the technology would fail for the hundreds of millions of stars in an entire galaxy. The analytical method used by the Spaniards in their 2019 paper in Nature Astronomy promised an interesting shortcut, and it was amazing no one had ever noticed it before. The fact that her boss hunted down this old publication demonstrated how wide his scientific horizon was. She would not put it past him to demand her as a new co-worker because she had done research at the university using large-scale computer models. That might be a coincidence, though.

  The important thing was not to fail during the first step. Maribel stood up. To hell with those damned premonitions! She would soon see an exact replica of the solar system, based on the most recent measurement data which had been adapted to the Spaniards’ model.

  “Computer, open downloaded file and display in large format,” she said. Her monitor displayed a clock, and ten seconds later the lights in the office went off. The wall screen flickered for a moment and then changed its color to a velvety black. That alone was very impressive. Then small dots appeared, spread randomly all over. First they glittered, and then they shone in a cool white. The program painted the entire ceiling and the walls this way.

  Maribel felt like she was in a fairy tale. Those must be asteroids—smaller and larger rocks crisscrossing our solar system by the millions. They were leftovers from the solar system’s primal phase, bits that failed to merge into larger objects. Maribel gradually recognized structures. The asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter was the first to emerge from the darkness. But there were larger and smaller groups of asteroids orbiting elsewhere in the solar system, in whose center Maribel’s head was currently located. She had to laugh, because she was now ‘The Sun.’ Her mother used to call her that sometimes.

  The next structure showed up far to the outside—the Oort Cloud. It was not as dense as the asteroid belt, but it contained considerably more objects, which now appeared on the wall dot by dot. Some were eternally orbiting in icy darkness. As viewed from the Oort Cloud, the sun shone hardly brighter than a planet seen from Earth. Some objects escaped their prison and tried to approach the sun. They were punished for this transgression, as the heat and the radiation of the sun tore away all the volatile materials from each of them. To humans, they appeared as comets.

  Now the software appeared to take a short break, but that was not the case. It was in the process of switching to larger objects, the dwarf planets, and it needed more time to display those. Pluto was among them, and Ceres, but there were hundreds more in the Oort Cloud and beyond. All of these objects were the main culprits behind the Spanish researchers’ error. Back then, the group of scientists mistook their combined effect as a signal of the ninth planet they were looking for. This current model showed no ninth planet, just as it should, and Maribel sighed, relieved at the result. Now the software was depicting the known planets on the wall. It started on the outside with Neptune and moved inward. Mercury, being closest to the sun, appeared near her nose.

  Maribel whirled around until she got dizzy. She should show this to the visitor groups sometime! The system was perfect, and therefore her work was perfect, too. Yes! I did it. So much for that, you stupid premonition, she thought with satisfaction. The exact replica of the solar system displayed before her proved that science won in the end. She knew, of course, her boss would not be satisfied by a purely visible proof. Even if he stood next to her right now he might be impressed but not show it. Instead he would bitch at her, asking why the data check had not been performed yet.

  She definitely had to finish that before he returned.

  Why not do it right now? “Computer, compare model calculation with exact data,” she said.

  Maribel once more gazed at the beauty of the solar system while slowly walking through the office. She followed Mars, dry now, but which had almost become a living world. She saw Earth with its fragile ecosystem, and then observed Venus, which showed what happened when there was slightly too much of everything—too much heat, too much carbon dioxide, too much volcanic activity.

  Then the computer interrupted her wandering mind and body. “Comparison finished. One aberration found.”

  Maribel stopped abruptly, so shocked was she. “One… what?”

  “One aberration found.”

  She was shocked again—she had not noticed that she had spoken aloud. This is impossible. One single aberration was total nonsense, mathematically speaking. Her mind was racing. If she had made a mistake and had not set up the model correctly, there should be many small aberrations. Then almost nothing would be correct, but a single aberration? She shook her head vigorously. It could not be!

  “Computer, display aberration,” Maribel said loudly.

  The computer did not answer. And she did not notice any change on the wall. Was the program misleading her? Was someone playing a trick on her? She would not put it past Zetschewitz to test her this way. On the other hand, this would be a rather inefficient way of working. No, there was a problem and she would solve it.

  “Computer, display aberration,” she said again. Nothing happened this time either. Perhaps the object was too small and she was unable to see it?

  “Computer, where is the aberration located?”

  “Approximately twenty degrees from the zenith of the display in the direction of the celestial north pole,” the artificial voice said.

  She slapped her hand against her forehead. All around her was the ecliptic, the plane in which the planets and most of the asteroids orbited the sun. But there were also celestial objects that for one reason or another followed different tracks. It was a strange coincidence the aberration should occur for such a deviating object. Maribel turned toward her boss’s desk, which represented
North in this presentation, Then she looked upward. Here the software marked the culprit with a blinking ring, so she could not overlook it.

  Maribel started to calm down. Seeming quite innocent, the problem stared at her from the ceiling of the office. She gave it an angry look. If you didn’t exist, she thought at it, I could get started today on adapting the model for the dynamics of galaxies. Zetschewitz would be returning the following Monday, and this meant she had five days to eliminate the problem. The main obstacle was that she would need to have any changes processed by the supercomputer, which would take one night each time she submitted them. During the day, even a researcher as well-known as Zetschewitz had only tiny usage slots available.

  Maribel sat down in her chair.

  “Computer, deactivate display.”

  The planetarium once more became a normal office. This way she could work without any distraction. First she needed a plan. She could generate up to five modified models per day, and the computer would have finished calculating them by the next morning. She needed a solution no later than Sunday. This meant four times five models, plus the four she should be able to manage today. She had no idea what she would do if the 24 alternatives did not contain the correct variant. Then there might be no correct version, and that would be a big problem indeed. Get going, Maribel, she thought. Right now she was really grateful her ex-boyfriend had broken up with her.

  January 6, 2072, 2003 EH1

  Recipe Number 23. Sebastiano swallowed hard at the thought, because this number seemed so low. Only averaging one per month? For two years he had been working on his book, Cooking in Space. It would be the first cookbook that focused on preparing food in zero gravity. It also stood to become the standard work in the subject and to make his name immortal. Guarini would be printed in large letters on the cover—his name, and his father’s. His father would be so proud of him, if he were still alive.

  But first Sebastiano had to struggle with Recipe 23. It would be a Mehlspeise—as the Austrians called it—a baked dessert. His family’s pizzeria was located in South Tyrol, so he had learned about the cuisine of neighboring Austria as a child. He would only know after the fact what kind of dessert this would end up being. In zero gravity, cooking was generally an experiment. When he came up with a new recipe, he never knew what it would taste like until he had made it. The reaction of the others was the deciding factor. If neither Doug nor Maria liked it, he considered the recipe a failure.

  At the moment, he was holding a plastic box. It was shaped like a good-sized book—one that was ten centimeters thick. Sebastiano had made it himself with their 3D printer. It fit perfectly inside the on-board microwave oven meant for heating up the standard astronaut rations. In the beginning he had tried to cook in a more traditional fashion, for a while, but in the type of oven used on Earth, heat entered ingredients through direct contact. It was difficult to achieve this contact in zero gravity. If he poured oil into a pan, it would keep its drop form, hit the bottom, bounce off and spread throughout the room. Even if he managed to pour batter into the bottom of a container, it would not stay there. And, if the batter lifted even half a millimeter—instead of maintaining contact with the container—it would bake unevenly. After seven days and a lot of cursing he had ended that phase. Since then, the microwave oven had become his best friend. This offered the only way to apply heat to food evenly, no matter where it was floating around.

  This had solved the issue of cooking, but not that of visual appeal. Sebastiano had only to watch the faces of Maria and Doug when he served them food to realize how important its appearance was, even though later everything turned into mush inside the stomach. Free-floating ingredients rarely looked very attractive. Sebastiano’s solution was using flat boards he could insert at certain heights inside the microwave box, and they served to carefully layer the food. He described in detail how to make these devices in the manuscript of his book. With a sharp knife he could even cut these boards to create a specific opening. For example, this technique allowed a fried egg to remain in position while cooking, so in the end it would look like a normal fried egg on a plate.

  Some recipes still required direct heat, though. The crew of three would have to do without fresh meat, since the hydroponic gardens only provided vegetables and a bit of fruit. Sebastiano had managed to create a mixture of protein powder, powdered milk, water, and raw potatoes sliced into fine strips, which somewhat resembled a steak after you fried it.

  For this purpose he created another insert made of metal which could be heated by running electricity through it. Elastic clamps would press another insert against the ‘meat’ mixture so that it touched a hot base. For safety reasons, this was all done inside the microwave oven, which was turned off for as long as the metal was inside it. Sebastiano was glad he not only had learned to cook, but had also been trained as an engineer by ESA. Here and now he could optimally combine these two skills. His cookbook, Guarini, was surely going to be a success.

  But Recipe 23, the dessert, came first. Sebastiano had made the flour from grain he had grown himself. The powdered egg was part of the supplies they had brought along with them, just like the sugar. He carefully took the plastic container out of the microwave oven and opened it. Then he removed the topmost sheet, which held the batter in place. A small amount was still stuck to its surface. He wiped it off with his finger and tasted it. The batter had the consistency he wanted—not too slimy, but also not fully baked—the perfect moment for the culmination of the recipe.

  Sebastiano left the container floating in the air and moved to the refrigerator, taking out a colorful ceramic bowl. Beneath a plastic wrap it contained strawberries, already pre-sliced. Strawberries were a real luxury, and getting them to grow in zero gravity had required a lot of effort on his part. He hoped the others would acknowledge that! Sometimes he had the impression that Doug in particular did not consider him and his work that important. Maybe this feeling was unjustified, since Doug had specifically hired him because of his cooking skills, but on the other hand, Sebastiano thought his boss might show a bit more enthusiasm about his creations.

  Sebastiano returned to the microwave oven. He carefully removed the wrap from the bowl and pulled the container rapidly downward. Now a small cloud of red, shiny, sweet strawberry slices floated in front of him. At harvest time he had eaten two of the berries just to make sure zero gravity did not affect their taste. With his left hand he grabbed the plastic box with the batter and held it below the strawberry cloud. Then he nudged each slice toward the batter, using his right index finger. The red pieces slowly flew downward, lightly dug themselves into the warm batter, and got stuck in it. A single, badly-aimed strawberry flew off course. He caught it and also pressed it into the prebaked mass.

  The batter had cooled slightly, and it also was not completely done yet. Sebastiano closed the plastic box again and slid it back into the microwave oven. Twenty seconds at 400 watts should be enough for finishing the dessert. He would call Recipe 23 ‘Crêpes aux Fraises.’ To make sure the crew had enough to eat, there was also a pouch of standard astronaut food for everyone. Because the microwave oven was occupied, he chose the self-heating packs. Doug got something with chicken flavor, Maria something supposedly like borscht, and he chose a kind of noodles with red sauce.

  The microwave announced with a double ping that it was finished, but where were the noodles? Two days ago he had carried several packages from the storeroom to the kitchen. No, it couldn’t be two days. It must have been four, because they had gotten Dr. Watson out of his rocket the day before yesterday.

  Sebastiano was not altogether sure what to think about the AI.

  The decision to grant Watson asylum had mostly been Doug’s. Two days ago the cook could see the reasoning behind it, but now he wondered what risks were involved. Was Watson really the character he pretended to be? Had they taken in a crazy AI that would kill them all? Watson had supposedly endangered humans before. Would they have a chance to catch him if he di
d it again? Even humans often managed to hide their true natures for a surprisingly long time. Doug told him how long he had stayed at NASA as an astronaut, despite his alcohol problem. An AI could not betray intentions through body language, and was intellectually superior to humans. So if Watson wanted, they would only be pawns in his game. What does Watson want?

  “That is a good question,” said a voice with a clipped English accent. Sebastiano sat up and looked around. Had he said this out loud, or was Watson able to read thoughts?

  “Sorry, I was not trying to scare you,” Watson said.

  “Are you always watching me?” Sebastiano asked.

  “No. While I do control all cameras and microphones in the station, I respect your privacy. I only activate a camera when you call my name. I cannot simply interpret your body language, and based on my experiences, this would just lead to complications in dealing with humans.”

  “I can imagine it,” Sebastiano said, nodding slowly. He remembered Watson explaining how they could initiate a conversation with him during the first briefing after their return.

  “Do you want your question answered?” Watson asked.

  “Did I actually say it out loud?” the Italian cook replied. “That would be really embarrassing.”

  “Yes. I can play the recording, if you like, but there is no reason for you to be embarrassed. I am very aware that you are wondering about me. I am also thinking about you. Otherwise, I don’t have that much to do.”

  “Well, at least a bit more than you had in your rocket,” Sebastiano said. The crew all agreed that Watson should supervise the state of all technical devices. This helped Sebastiano a lot, because from that point onward Watson could immediately react to everyday issues with the greenhouses. Unfortunately, an irrigation system that had to work in zero gravity was very prone to breakdowns. In addition, Watson was supposed to examine technical processes and make suggestions on how to improve them.