Maribel’s plan would only work if Zetschewitz had not yet canceled her access to the data sources she technically did not need anymore. She nervously booted up her computer. First she checked whether her login still worked. Perfect! Relieved at this, she banged her fist against the desk.
“Is everything okay with you?” Zetschewitz asked.
“Yes, everything is fine. I am starting on the analysis of galactic dynamics, Dieter.” She attempted to use a jovial tone, but then thought Zetschewitz might find this odd. But he did not say anything—she just worried too much. That man was only thinking of himself and his own problems.
In spite of it, she should not take too long. Maribel downloaded a selection of orbital data from the appropriate databases. This time she deliberately chose different, more recent sources. Basically, she could hardly believe anyone would be making such mistakes in routine measurements. Plus, it would be extremely improbable that two researchers made the same mistake, one after the other. Why hadn’t she checked this during the past week? Naturally, she had first suspected herself of making a mistake, once again falling into that same old trap.
She remembered a trip she had once taken with a friend, a physicist like herself, or rather he used to be. They wanted to watch the sunrise in the desert together. She had checked the difference between the time zones, exactly 6.5 hours. Her friend, though, had argued at length why in this case it would only be 5.5 hours. She allowed herself be convinced—which resulted in their standing around and shivering for an hour in the cold night air. An old story, but she was gradually starting to learn.
It only took the computer a few seconds to transmit the data. Maribel quickly turned off the sound, so that the end of the transmission would not be marked by an audible signal, which would betray her activity. Then Zetschewitz would just ask questions. Now she only had to link the new data to her old model and then send the whole package for processing to the supercomputer in La Laguna. Ka-ching! This part of her plan would be finished, and she could now calmly focus on the movements of galaxies. This would take her at least three weeks.
January 14, 2072, Pico del Teide
“Just come right in,” her boss said in greeting.
Maribel did not even have to press the button in order to open the door. His invitation sounded like a threat, and her heart was racing. A feeling of rising heat told her she was blushing. Why can’t I stay as cool as I always imagine when I’m confronted by this nasty guy? What does he want from me now?
“Good morning, Dieter,” Maribel said in a deliberately relaxed tone. This time his back was not facing her. Zetschewitz sat swiveling back and forth on his office chair with his legs spread, while she went to her desk, took off her jacket, and sat down.
After a while he said in a drawl, “Good morning, Maribel.” She could tell her boss was concerned about something. She quietly booted her computer, and decided to not do him the favor of asking what his problem was.
“Are you making any progress with adapting the model?” Zetschewitz finally asked.
“Well, after the first day of work I can only tell it’s doable. Definitely,” she replied.
“But you are focusing all your energy on this project,” he said. The sentence sounded like a statement, but Maribel knew it was meant to be a question, a trick question. She again felt that her face was flushing. She knew what he was hinting at, and decided not to answer him.
“I am just asking, because this morning I received an email from the IAC supercomputer at La Laguna,” Zetschewitz informed her. “It stated that my processing job was finished.” The suppressed anger could be clearly heard in his voice. “I can’t remember sending any job to the computer.”
That’s your problem, Maribel felt like saying in response to him, but instead she said nothing. If someone was not capable of asking a clear question, he did not deserve an answer.
“Oh well, it probably wasn’t sent by you either,” he said. “Perhaps somebody hacked into my account. I will just delete all the results.”
“No, Dieter, I sent that processing job,” she said, as calmly as possible. Maribel hoped he would not notice the trembling in her voice. To her own ears she sounded like a little girl apologizing to a strict teacher, “I just wanted to check a variant of the model that was particularly relevant for galactic dynamics,” she said.
“That’s good. Would you care to show me which aspect you were talking about, using those results? I am not as well-versed in mathematics as you are, but I am very interested in the topic, as you can imagine, Maribel.”
It was remarkable how her boss could simultaneously sound charming and icy cold when he talked to her. A neutral observer might not even notice the dichotomy. On the other hand, if the observer saw the two vertical wrinkles on Zetschewitz’s forehead, he would probably understand.
“Of course, Dieter,” she replied. “Would you please forward the results to my computer? Then we can go over them together.” Maribel was gradually starting to enjoy responding to her boss’s tone. It was like a light-saber duel between Darth Vader and his son Luke Skywalker, but with both using seemingly friendly sentences as weapons. She liked the idea, and of course she was on the side of ‘The Force.’
“I am just now doing that, and I am really curious to hear your explanation,” Zetschewitz said.
“Thank you ever so much,” she replied. “Could you give me 30 seconds?”
A moment later, Maribel’s computer reported the arrival of the results. She sent it to the wall display. The light was automatically dimmed. She turned her chair toward the center of the office to watch what was happening.
“How romantic,” her boss said. He sat in front of her with his legs spread and arms crossed and looked at Maribel. With any other man she might have interpreted his look as sexually suggestive, even aggressive, but not with Zetschewitz—impossible. If he lusted for anything, it would be the opportunity to criticize her unmercifully. She would not allow this to happen, since it took two for that to play out.
Maribel at least wanted to keep up the pretense. “Well,” she began, “in certain marginal aspects, the dynamics of the solar system are as diverse as the dynamics of galaxies. If we look at how...” She paused. She knew she was talking total nonsense, and that her boss knew it as well, but she had to stall for time. Otherwise Zetschewitz, out of pure malice, might delete the result before she was able to see it.
“So if we look at how the semi-axes change in comparison to the inclination, while the most relevant inherent parameters...” Maribel had to work hard not to laugh out loud. She hadn’t spouted such ludicrous nonsense since kindergarten, and it felt good doing it. The display was almost complete, and soon she would have made it.
“... can be defined particularly in the ecliptic by means of gravitational wells,” she said, looking upward to the zenith, then a bit in the direction of her boss’s desk, “and then the parallels with the dynamic changes in galaxies induced by dark matter...” Maribel did not finish her sentence. The strange aberration was back again, and compared to the older measurement values, it had moved quite a bit. It wasn’t her mistake—there really was something strange out there in the sky. Yes! But would Zetschewitz believe her? She had her doubts.
“Oh, let’s just stop all this nonsense,” she heard herself say, and was shocked by it. Even Zetschewitz suddenly started up in his chair. It almost appeared as though she had caught him doing something. At least now he was listening to her.
Maribel continued, “I got fresh measurement data, using your account, and tested them with the old model.”
“I understand. You hoped this would make the aberration disappear, because the old data contained an error.” Suddenly, Zetschewitz was talking to her like to an adult. He must have sensed an interesting scientific phenomenon, and therefore rapidly switched from being an asshole into the role of the scientist well-known in research circles.
“But the error lies neither in the model nor in the data. Take a look.” Maribe
l switched between the data set received today and that of last week. The object representing the aberration made a slight jump. “There is something there, and it moved.”
“Just a moment,” Zetschewitz said. “So far you only have a single clue. I admit it’s hard to believe that a similar measurement error would happen at different observatories within such a short time, but it’s not impossible. It’s a lot more probable than having a hitherto unknown object far away from the ecliptic—which we cannot see—approaching the inner solar system at an impressive speed.”
Maribel could not contradict her boss concerning this aspect. Perhaps I’ve discovered a speck on a telescope reflector, something systematic. Maybe it is a flaw occurring in the telescopes of a specific manufacturer? I will have to check all that, and I will need a lot more data, she thought to herself.
“I expect you to carefully safeguard our potential discovery,” her boss now said.
Our discovery? Typical, she thought, but now was not the right moment to protest.
“I will provide you with all necessary resources, but also please don’t neglect adapting my model of galaxy dynamics. Under these circumstances, I will refrain from disciplinary measures for the unauthorized use of institute resources.”
Great, the asshole was back. Zetschewitz wanted her to do the work, but reap all the rewards himself. And if she did not go along, he would use employment laws to threaten her. Well, he would see what he would get out of it. Karma is a bitch, Maribel was convinced.
“Please keep me updated concerning our potential discovery.”
“Of course, boss,” she answered, as she deactivated the display of the solar system and turned toward her computer again. During the next few days she would have to work overtime, but she did not mind. No one was waiting for her at home anymore.
January 16, 2072, 2003 EH1
Maria looked down. The ground at her feet was tricky. On this surface of the mining area, steel platforms were attached to the rock at regular intervals, and they were barely large enough for her to stand on with both feet. Then, when she activated the magnetic fastening of the boots, her position became very stable. Nothing could topple her—she was like a rock in a storm, except there were never any storms here. The machines digging into the body of the asteroid next to her in order to extract valuable raw materials did not need the small platforms—they were only there for humans.
Now and then one of the machines got wedged in the rock, and then it would call on its human servants for assistance. At least that was how Maria felt when she, all of 1.65 meters tall, stood next to one of these colossal things, the smallest of which was about 3.5 meters high. She was the slave of a machine. Maria shivered and then had to laugh about it. In reality, no one gave her commands, and she felt so free on this asteroid, like never before in all her 42 years.
The fact that she helped the machine continue with its work—which a human had ordered it to do—was her own decision. It had just happened that way over time. Sebastiano was busy with the kitchen and the greenhouses, and Doug... Well, Doug was just Doug. He believed he had the grand overview, but sometimes he lost track of the details. Maria did not mind taking care of overlooked details.
Sure, they would only lose a few thousand rubles if the machine stayed idle for another day. However, she might as well take care of it right away instead of waiting until Doug was finished making his plans. This seemed to be his greatest talent, even though the actual implementation sometimes left much to be desired. Back in those days on Earth, if she had not pushed him, Doug might still be busy planning his future. Instead, he had used his strong bargaining position to demand a spaceship and a mining license from Shostakovich.
But she had to be careful not to start daydreaming. Maria floated from platform to platform. She was also secured by a thin line, so nothing could really happen to her. Ahead she saw the machine that had reported a defect. Maria anchored herself to the platform next to it and opened the lid of the control console. Below it she saw a row of LEDs, a few luminous numerals, and various buttons. The LED for the drill was red. Maria clicked through several menus to find the cause of the error, and today she was lucky. The drill was neither broken nor dull, but just seemed to be stuck and therefore had deactivated itself. Before they started from Earth they had considered buying maintenance robots. These days, one could run asteroid mines totally without humans. Despite this, since they had to be present for legal reasons anyway, they decided they would allow themselves the little bit of excitement involved in maintenance.
Maria would be able to solve today’s problem using brute force. She liked those kinds of problems best. She would lift a machine weighing several tons. Zero gravity made such a trick possible. Of course it was not completely without risk, due to Newton’s Laws. First of all she needed a secure standing position. If she floated around, she would have no chance against the inertia of the machine. The magnetic platform connected her to the mass of the entire asteroid via a spike reaching down five meters. It remained to be seen how securely this spike was anchored, though, because the asteroid had a much looser composition than a planet like Earth.
The main danger for her was not falling, but losing her footing and then getting in the way of the machine’s inertia. If by stupid mishap she were to get between the asteroid and the moving machine, she would doubtlessly be squashed. Therefore she should never pull the mining device toward herself. She and Doug reminded each other—always push it away.
Maria checked her arm display once again to look up the exact location of the malfunctioning drill. The arm display did not present a live image, it only showed a diagram she could use to orient herself and make her way to the machine. She still had to find the rock layers that blocked the affected drill, but she had plenty of time. Her oxygen would last for at least six more hours.
Maria closed the lid of the control console again. Then she placed both hands on the machine, and she could feel the ice-cold metal even through her gloves. The only sound she heard all around was the humming of the life-support system. The vibrations she could feel through the soles of her boots must have come from other machines.
She pushed against the black monster, its Cyrillic signage right in front of her, but nothing happened. The metal did not move a single millimeter. Then she slightly changed her direction. Nothing that way, either. Maria was breathing heavily, and the life support system blew air in her face. She had to find the direction of the fissure that blocked the drill. It was both a puzzle and hard work.
“If I might make a suggestion...” Watson said. She had ordered the AI to supervise her EVA. Typical for a man—he was inside, nice and dry, and believed he could give her advice.
“No, thanks, it’s hard enough by itself,” Maria said. Her last EVA had been observed by Doug from inside the station, and he also could not refrain from giving her pointers.
“I understand,” Watson said.
Maria could not help but say, “Really?” She should rather concentrate on her work.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you really understand me, as you state?” she asked.
“I...” Watson was at a loss for words. This was the first time she had experienced something like that. Yet the AI did not give up. “I meant my remark as a confirmation. But I admit it was ambiguous.”
“So you don’t understand me?”
“No, Maria, I don’t understand why you refuse to employ a more efficient strategy.”
“Sorry, can’t help you there,” Maria said. “May I now get back to my work?”
Watson did not answer anymore. Did he feel insulted now? She was sometimes creeped out by the AI, particularly when Watson exhibited human traits. She had actually considered artificial intelligences useful for the very reason that they did not act like humans. Humans had so many weaknesses, 99 percent of which she had witnessed during her work in Siberia. She did not need an AI with shortcomings, too.
“Excuse me,” Maria said. “Did I offend yo
u?”
Watson did not answer right away. “Not as far as I can assess it,” he finally said. “It’s just that my system resources were fully occupied with the question I asked you earlier.”
“Just let it be,” Maria said. “It is impossible to understand humans that way. And now just tell me what you wanted to suggest.”
“Most fissures below the surface of the asteroid run from the tip to the opposite end, deviating by only a few degrees. The reason for this is that 2003 EH1 used to orbit the sun as a comet and was shaped and repeatedly broken by its gravitation. So it would make sense if you applied your force almost directly sideways, as seen from your position.”
“Thanks, dear Dr. Watson.”
“You’re welcome.”
It seemed to Maria as if Watson’s clipped English accent got stronger during these last couple of words. She looked around. If she wanted to move the machine sideways, she would not be able to exert all her strength from her current position. The place directly in front of the mining device would be ideal, but that location lacked a magnetic platform where she could anchor herself. What about the boulder looming behind it? If she squeezed herself between it and the machine, she should be able to exert optimal force.
She quickly floated forward. The distance between the boulder and the machine was surprisingly optimal. She entered the gap. It was frightening suddenly seeing the gigantic machine loom directly above her. Of course there was no ‘above’ or ‘below’ in space, as she had to repeat to herself. Maria then pushed her arms against the metal. She flexed her arm and leg muscles and gave it all her strength. The colossus was moving! Her muscles, though, noticed it a bit too late. She no longer had sure footing on the rock, so she abruptly moved in a direction opposite to the force she exerted.
Maria was frightened. Even though she knew the safety line would hold her, she also could not spend too much time hesitating. The machine would keep on moving until someone stopped it—until she stopped it—but without a stable position she would not be able to do that. The metal colossus was lighter than a feather on the asteroid, and if it lifted off the surface, she would never be able to retrieve it. Then it would be gone and they would lose about one sixth of their income.
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