by B. V. Larson
“Yuki? It’s Jackie.”
“What’s up?” Yuki said, putting on her happy voice. She wanted to curse and disconnect, but she managed to control her baser instincts. She liked Jackie, and she counted her as a budding friend.
“There’s something weird going on—I’m talking about the sensor data from Europa.”
Yuki finally looked up from her drone. She frowned. There was something in Jackie’s voice…
“I’m coming to your module,” she said.
A few minutes later, they were poring over incoming optical data. They had feeds from external telescopic cameras on the outer hull of Starfire. These devices were wonders of technology, and they were all focused on Europa.
“See this?” Jackie said, spreading her fingers to expand an image to a startling degree. The photos were very high resolution, the details improved with each touch of her hand.
“See what?” Yuki asked.
“This dark patch of ice—right here,” Jackie said. “Watch that spot as I flip this series of photos taken over several minutes.”
Frowning, Yuki leaned on the table. Glowing halos appeared where her hair and elbows touched its surface. The entire table was really an interactive touch-screen, but the operating system was sophisticated enough not to overreact to extraneous contact.
A series of boring surface shots of Europa appeared. They were zoomed in so tightly there was nothing but a field of ice to see. The small alien world was white with rust-red lines splashed all over it.
“This moon looks like one of Edwin’s eyeballs the morning after,” Yuki remarked.
“Shush, just watch,” Jackie said.
Yuki glanced at her, then back at the screen. Jackie was so intense. Yuki supposed she, herself, was probably guilty of the same thing when she was working, but only when she was tinkering with her drone.
When the third shot appeared, Yuki frowned. She cocked her head.
“It looks different. There’s something wrong. It’s all white now.”
“That’s right. Watch.”
Yuki was riveted. A moment later, the fourth shot appeared. The affected area was wider. If anything, it looked even more uniform than before. The red lines were gone. There was nothing but a white, rising dome.
“What do you think about that?” Jackie asked.
“I…I think it’s an explosion,” Yuki said.
“Right. That’s what it is. The region directly over that dark patch of ice has ruptured.”
Yuki straightened. “I have to admit, that’s a pretty cool shot. To capture a natural event—what are the odds? It could be a meteor strike, or a release of gas. There are geysers all over Europa.”
“Everything you say is true,” Jackie admitted. “But there’s more. I’ll fast forward about an hour. Check this out.”
The ice was back to normal again, if a bit more gray-white than before. But as the photos flashed up—it went white again.
“What?” Yuki said, standing and staring. “Are you saying that the exact same spot was hit?”
“Yes.”
“An hour later?”
“Exactly one hour later.”
Jackie and Yuki stared at one another. “That’s impossible. Unless you’ve found some kind of equivalent to old faithful on Europa.”
Jackie sat back, sighing. “I went through it over and over before I called you down here. The strikes—they can’t be geysers from below, the pattern is wrong—the strikes are rhythmic and precisely on target. Six times over six hours the moon was hit with…something.”
“What does it mean?” Yuki asked, but already her mind was racing. She was thinking of Edwin’s aliens. “Could there be someone—or something—hitting that spot on purpose?”
“Yes,” Jackie said seriously. “That’s the only answer.”
Yuki laughed and shook her head. “You’re trying to freak me out.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re trying to prove to me that aliens are down there, setting off charges or something.”
Jackie laughed then. “No, no, no. That’s not the answer—not my answer, anyway. As I said, the strikes are coming from above the planet. They’re meteor hits. Something like that.”
Yuki squinted at the screen, backing it up and playing the photos over and over. “Have you told Sandeep about this yet?” she asked.
“No, not yet. I want to have a prepared answer first. That’s why I called you down here.”
Yuki crossed her arms and shrugged. “What’s your theory?”
“I respect your mind, Yuki. I want you to pretend you’re a prof back in school who hates me. You have to prove me wrong.”
“All right, I’ve seen enough of those guys. I’m ready. Hit me with your best thesis.”
“The Russians did it. They launched a series of strikes somehow—probably kinetic guided missiles. That’s the theory. I’ll list the supporting evidence.”
Yuki listened carefully. She tried to wrap her mind around it. The data seemed thin to support such a fantastic conclusion, but she had to admit something odd was going on down there.
“I’ve ruled out aliens,” Jackie said, “because of the timing. If there were aliens involved, don’t you think they’d use intervals other than a precise earthly hour?”
“Maybe. I have to admit, the alien idea seems less likely. We know there’s a Russian ship out here—hell, we’re chasing them. We don’t know if there are any aliens or where they would be.”
“Right. There are two other supporting items. First, there’s the math. The Russian ship, if our launch characteristics are correct, would have been in about the right position to launch kinetic torpedoes like this. They could have done it way back around the time they passed through the asteroid belt, when they were at maximum velocity. Then they must have turned around and began slowing down their ship—they had to, or they’d crash into Europa. Measuring out their probable speed with a maximum and minimum likely velocity, then calculating when the strike would land—well, here are my figures. Confirm them, please.”
Yuki pored over the calculus for a few minutes. Finally, she nodded. “They could have done it.”
“Right,” Jackie said. “Let’s review. Hour-long intervals—that indicates a human source to me.”
“Check.”
“The math says they could have done it as far as range and distance goes.”
“Agreed. But you said there was a third item on the list.”
“Yes. That dark spot—as far as I can tell, although Sandeep hasn’t given me our exact navigational data—that’s our target.”
Yuki stared at Jackie. “We have to talk to Sandeep.”
“You support my hypothesis?”
“It matches the data we have. Sandeep might know more.”
They called Sandeep to the table, and after twenty minutes he showed up. They walked him through the photos and their analysis. Yuki was impressed with Jackie’s maneuvering. The argument seemed much stronger coming from two convinced scientists.
Sandeep was a little lost with the math, but he followed the concepts.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “The Russians launched a series of missiles at Europa? Weeks ago?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
“Why?”
Yuki and Jackie exchanged glances. This was the area they weren’t certain of as yet.
“We can only theorize,” Jackie said. “Odds are, they wanted to crack the ice at this spot.”
“Did they manage it?”
She shook her head. “No. Not yet, anyway. These six strikes made a large crater—maybe half a kilometer deep, and five wide.”
“God, that’s huge.”
“The only answer,” Yuki interjected, “is that they want to get under the ice. And they want to do it fast. They don’t plan to sit around drilling ice-cores for months. They want to punch through to the liquid ocean at this spot, and they’re softening up the moon for that purpose.”
Sandeep massaged his own neck. “Right. I see that. Right. Where does this leave us? Will they bomb us if we try to land? We aren’t prepared to fight a battle out here.”
The two women exchanged glances. “We don’t think they can use this approach to attack us when we reach the target. They launched these long ago. They can’t launch more while sitting on the surface.”
“Good.”
“Well…” Jackie said. “The next part is Yuki's idea.”
“Sandeep, I think they know we’re coming.”
Sandeep stared at her. His eyes were motionless orbs. He looked at the screen, then closed his eyes and kept them closed. At last, he nodded.
“Yes, that could be it. They want to get to the Artifact—or whatever it is—fast.”
“There’s something else you can do to help us confirm all this,” Jackie said. She and Yuki exchanged glances again.
Yuki gave her a nod. They’d agreed before they’d brought in Sandeep that they should wait until the end to hit him with this point.
“What is it?”
“What is our precise landing target? You’ve given the flight crew those coordinates, presumably, but not us.”
Sandeep shrugged. “There’s no point at further secrecy,” he said. “We’re far past all that need-to-know stuff now.” He reached out a finger and tapped the image of the freshly dug crater on the screen. “That’s the correct region of the surface. We couldn’t be precise, but the plan from control back home was to scan about ten percent of the ice, starting right there. I checked the coordinates while you were giving me that excellent explanation. As far as I’m concerned, your thesis is confirmed and actionable, ladies.”
The two scientists exchanged tight smiles.
“Unfortunately,” Sandeep said, “I’m not sure what action we can take.”
“We can land right there—and land first,” Yuki suggested.
“That would be a true demonstration of our determination,” Sandeep said.
Yuki touched his elbow and smiled. “Guts, Sandeep. The word I think you’re looking for is guts.”
Sandeep nodded, but to Yuki, he didn’t look like he was too excited about the coming “demonstration”.
Chapter 55
Surface of Europa
Starlight
The landing was rough but not deadly as Lev had feared. They’d hit something as they drifted down the last few meters, a projection reaching up from the surface of what had appeared to be flat ground from the sky. The flight crew had been unable to adjust in time, and the ship had nearly flipped over.
Fortunately, powerful braking jets had burned brightly in response, melting a flatter area at the last moment. They’d landed at last with only minor damage, but the ship was canted twenty degrees off center.
Gravity had them in its grip again, but it was a very weak gravity, no more than one eighth that of Earth. Lev felt odd, as if he were a human balloon bouncing around the place.
Like the rest of the crew, he went to work on his primary mission once the emergency had passed. His activities were different than the others, who were unlimbering equipment, checking systems and looking for damage. His job was to watch over Dr. Norin, and as she didn’t appear to be in any danger, he headed to the window to look for possible future threats.
The landscape was bleak and dark. He was reminded of the worst parts of Siberia in the worst months. There were no mountains or trees, however. Just an endless expanse of ice with pressure ridges, thrusting spires and discolored areas. The Sun, tiny but bright, was on the other side of the moon for now. Only a scrim of Jupiter’s face was visible, a curved sliver of a vast disk which hung low on the horizon.
He turned his attention to the area immediately around the ship. For the first ten minutes, he saw nothing unusual. Wisps of vapor roiled up now and then with decreasing frequency from below the landing gear. The vapors frosted his window, making him move to another.
He’d almost given up his visual inspection of the surface, coming to believe that this was going to be as dull an existence as the journey out from Earth had been—when he spotted something of interest.
“There’s something moving out there. Something out on the ice!”
An engineer named Gavril who was drifting through the compartment paused near him.
“Of course there is,” Gavril said in what Lev considered to be an almost prim voice. “Most likely, it’s a trick of the eye. There are many light sources and thousands of reflective surfaces to cause a glitter or a shimmer—”
Lev grabbed a crinkling wad of the man’s suit and heaved him around, shoving his face toward the window. They had opened their visors after the bridge crew had announced the air pressure was good.
“No,” Lev said near the engineer’s ear. “I’m a Spetsnaz man. I know when I see something moving on the horizon.”
“It’s possible you saw actual movement,” Gavril said nervously. “There’s a thin atmosphere—with lots of swirling dust and ice mixed together, something might move. It even snows here, from time to time. The temperature variations alone are enough to cause the ice to shift and vent gasses as well.”
“I know ice. I’ve lived for days in climates not much better than this one.”
“But this ice, Lieutenant—it’s different. This is not Earth. The composition is different, as is the temperature. We really don’t know what’s normal here yet.”
Lev released him and shoved his own face back to the triangular window. He peered outside, frowning fiercely.
The engineer straightened himself and watched Lev carefully. Lev could see the other man’s reflection in the porthole, despite the fact he was trying to block all interior light with his cupped hand. It was too dark outside to see clearly.
“Lieutenant?” Gavril said diffidently. “I believe we’ll get the vodka machine working again soon. Now that we’ve landed, I’m sure it will become a priority.”
Lev almost chuckled, but he stopped himself. The more he thought about the man’s statement, the more it angered him rather than amused him. Was this how low he’d fallen in the eyes of the crew? Was he nothing more than an embarrassment, a dangerous dog that must be fed and drugged lest it bite the weak master’s hand?
“That’s fine,” Lev snapped, “but I’m done with drinking. The long voyage is over, and now I have work to do. I’m going out there. I’m going to see what’s moving on the ice.”
Gavril hesitated. “There’s a locker full of oxygen on level six. If you want, I’ll lead you there and help you suit up.”
This made Lev smile. He straightened and regarded the engineer.
“All right,” he said. “I’ve been cooped up in here too long. Is your suit ready for walking outside?”
Gavril looked alarmed. “Why?”
“You’re an excellent candidate to be my assistant. I contacted the captain before you came down here. I asked to examine the exterior of the ship for visible damage, and he agreed. Lead the way.” Lev instructed the engineer.
Looking sick, Gavril led him to the lowest deck. Together, they checked their suits and mounted fresh oxygen bottles. They took their old ones and placed them into a recharger.
After checking his suit’s integrity carefully, Lev slung a short-barreled carbine rifle onto his back.
“You can’t be serious,” Gavril said, his eyes wide.
“I’m almost always serious.”
“I didn’t know anyone brought weapons on this voyage. Will that thing even fire out there?” the man asked.
“Gunpowder contains its own oxidizing agent.”
“Yes, of course, but it’s too cold. The barrel will be brittle—all the metal components will be brittle. If you fire that weapon, the heat may crack the gun.”
“It’s not a normal gun. I’ve been told such things were taken into account in its design. The most important new element is the compensator on the muzzle. This will allow escaping gases to shoot out in multiple directions. Otherwise, it could knock a
man off his feet in low gravity. Also, some of the propellant gas is ejected from the rear of the weapon. Do you know what that means?”
“Yes—well, it means it won’t knock you down or send you flying into the air.”
“More importantly, it means you shouldn’t stand directly behind me when I shoot at something. It will blast you in the face.”
“Right, I see... Will you be shooting much?”
“Only if necessary. Let’s go.”
Gavril carried a large spotlight that worked in multiple spectrums, including ultraviolet. If liquids were leaking from the vehicle, they would be easier to spot with this tool.
Lev carried nothing other than his gun and his suit. He found the suit highly constraining. By the time he was out of the airlock and doing his first sweep, the hairs on the back of his neck were already standing stiffly. He felt as if anything could sneak up on him, and he’d be unable to detect it.
To Lev, the sounds were the oddest thing about the surface of Europa. He couldn’t hear any normal noises at all. There was no wind to speak of. There were no voices, other than those picked up by his helmet radio.
The sounds he did hear were alien. The hiss of oxygen bleeding into his suit. The soft ticking of Geiger counters turned down to their lowest volume setting. Proximity detectors beeped when he came close to bumping into things, even his fellow crewman. The rustling of his thick, lead-lined suit was unnerving, a constant reminder that he was stuck in this alien environment rather than at home. The only familiar sound was the crunch of his boots on the crusty snow and ice.
The visual environment wasn’t reassuring, either. The ship was a dark hulk behind him, sagging to the port side where the landing gear had broken through and sunk five meters into soft ice. Here and there around the ship spikes of ice thrust up like stalagmites. Some reached up as high as thirty feet. One of these had helped tip the landing ship, throwing it to one side and causing the other side to sink into the snow.
“Why did these foolish pilots pick this field of spikes to land on?” Lev demanded.
“This is where the signal struck the surface, as closely as we could determine. And then, of course, there’s the shadow.”
