Titan Cruel Moon

by Kate Rauner

  Yash set his spiral down and wiped his palm against his chest. "Greta, any ideas?"

  She picked up the spiral with fingertips. "We know complex molecules form where cosmic radiation strikes the upper atmosphere. Makes sense that they'd rain down to the surface. Interesting, but like Fynn said, there's nothing to conclude until the labs are available."

  Yash shook his head. "Then set it aside. A mystery for tomorrow." He cleared his throat and tapped the pad. "Emily posted her daily log already. What else do you have for us, Fynn?"

  With a glance at the spiral, Fynn took a deep breath. His father was right, and, setting on the tabletop, the spirals didn't look as exciting as they had when he found them. He launched into his report. "We connected the methane and nitrogen lines, and got a pilot flame lit to test preheat cycles. Rica's watching the system now. If it goes well, we'll fire up furnace number three in the morning."

  Shun leaned forward and laid his fingertips on the pad frame. "You are supposed to follow Doctor Tanaka's schedule."

  Yash's black eyes flashed as he leaned forward to match Shun's glare. "I am supposed to get this colony running, and that requires a methane-fired furnace. That's what's important to achieving our goals. Not blindly following this sequence of tasks."

  Fynn's stomach sunk like a stone. "We'll start-up the other furnaces eventually. Rica's repairing what she can, and we'll produce replacement parts once the Herschel's 3-D printers are available."

  Shun kept his eyes on Yash. "Ah, yes. The Herschel," he said. "Liam, are you listening?"

  Liam's wide face appeared on the pad. "Yeah, I'm here."

  "I hope I can report that you are following your schedule."

  Liam's face flushed. "Following, but not making, as you'll see." The image switched to one of the curved, white segments floating in front of the beige stripes of Saturn's rings. A shuttle gripped each end of the segment with manipulator arms. One shuttle started a barrel roll but jerked to a stop. Nothing inside the segment seemed to be moving.

  "You're looking at the Gravitron segment," Liam said. "The dome's not sliding out."

  Greta bit her lip as they watched the video feed. "What else can you try, Liam?"

  "I'd like to wake the Cohort Leader who designed the dome. Might get some ideas."

  Shun tapped the pad, returning the view to Liam's face. "Cohort Leaders sleep until first harvest. That's when they're scheduled to awaken."

  It was Greta's turn to glare. "The Advance Team is losing strength every day in this low gravity environment. We need to bring the Gravitron down, and Liam's in the best position to say how to accomplish that."

  "I agree," Yash said. "Let our people do their jobs."

  Shun stood suddenly, knocking his chair into the table behind him. "I will convey your recommendation to Doctor Tanaka." He spun on his heel and bounded away.

  "Emily." Yash turned to the silent maintenance crew leader. "Put priority on recycling systems in the greenhouse. Try to get them completed this week. I'm going to start planting seeds tomorrow. And, Fynn."

  Fynn locked his gaze on his father.

  "Fynn, you're doing the right thing. Concentrate on starting furnace number three and producing carbon dioxide."

  Liam's eyes filled the pad. "I'll talk to the medics up here. Feel them out. See what they're willing to do if we keep it among the Herschel's crew."

  No one asked what he meant, though Emily said, "I never heard a word."

  The others headed for the kitchen, but Fynn lagged behind. He didn't feel much like eating, but needed a mug of tea for his dry mouth. Whatever was going on between his father and Tanaka seemed bigger than a schedule disagreement. His mother's worried expression confirmed that. But he knew exactly what his furnace crew needed to do. Maybe they could start after supper instead of waiting for the morning.

  Chapter 12

  T he furnace was preheated to specifications the next morning, thanks to Fynn visiting a few times during the night to reopen a methane feed valve that kept failing closed. As he relayed the problem to his crew, Rica pushed back her curls, the pink now faded like an old rose, and suggested they visually confirm each valve position and use the portable infrared probe to confirm temperature readouts.

  "Dumping liquid methane into the dome would be a bad idea," she said.

  Casper fidgeted with his sleeves as he listened. "But methane would evaporate quickly, wouldn't it? It's not toxic."

  "No," Fynn said. "But enough of it will suffocate you. And obviously it's flammable."

  "Could explode," Rica added with a mischievous smile.

  She was teasing, but she was also right, and Casper bit his lip, more worried than before.

  "Let's open a methane line to one burner in furnace number three," Fynn said. "We can take turns watching the valves. Maybe once the system's stable, we'll have less trouble."

  The colony's furnaces were beautifully designed, and Stirling converters were exceptionally efficient, but the concept was ancient. Fynn had studied heat cycles in university, and he probably knew the theory better than anyone else. The difference between hot and cold fluids would drive a piston on Titan the same way it once did on Earth in furnaces burning coal.

  The crew gathered at the control console. Rica bounced happily off the floor as sensor readings lined up with targeted optimums. She flipped circuit breakers and, with a brief blink of darkness, switched their dome's power from the nuclear reactor to the methane furnace. They were running on their own electricity.

  Fynn tapped his sleeve. "Emily, we're ready to send some carbon dioxide to the greenhouse."

  "I have people stationed at the vents. Let'er rip, Fynn."

  Fynn reached for the console and threw a switch to open a valve to the greenhouse by ten percent.

  Ben called from his position at the valve. "It opened."

  "Let's see how well it works," Fynn said.

  They walked on top of the floor channel where the ducts ran, across the open half of the dome, and through the tunnel.

  In the center of the greenhouse, grates in the floor discharged the CO2 and fans dispersed it through the air. Casper dropped to his knees and lifted a diffuser plate. "I feel warm air flowing." He peered into the duct. "Is this little tube the CO2? It's not very big."

  "We don't want to flood the dome," Fynn said. "Too much CO2 will kill you."

  Casper leaned down. "But it's no thicker than a finger."

  Rica tapped his shoulder. "You might not want to get your face so close."

  Casper slumped to the floor.

  Fynn grabbed him by the collar and rolled him on his side. Wide-eyed and panting, he tried to speak but only gasped.

  "To the clinic," Fynn said.

  "No... no." Casper's words came out in pants, but he waved Fynn away." I'm fine... Look." He breathed slowly in and out.

  Emily came around a hydroponic frame. "Any problem here?"

  Casper propped himself on both arms and shook his head.

  Rica beamed an innocent smile. "We're just excited."

  Emily narrowed her eyes but let it go. "I've asked Drew to coordinate with your team, Fynn. Make sure the CO2 disperses evenly. No pockets that could..." She frowned at Casper as Ben dragged him to his feet, but someone called and she hurried away.

  Fynn heaved a sigh as she disappeared among the pipe frames. "Thanks, guys."

  "For what?" Rica asked.

  "For covering Casper's snoot full of CO2."

  Rica laughed. "What's a crew for?"

  Casper opened his mouth but his words turned to coughing.

  "Deep breaths," Fynn said. "Casper, you're a disaster."

  He smiled sheepishly.

  Drew swung out from the frame above them and dropped to the floor. "I heard the CO2 is on. Hey." He frowned at Casper "What happened to him?"

  "He's just out of shape," Rica said with a wicked grin. "Must be the gravity."

  Ben slotted the grate into place over the duct. "I should have brought a CO2 monitor. We may ne
ed to move the fans around."

  Casper coughed out that he'd help Ben.

  Fynn nodded. "I want to go outside and make sure the floating pump's okay."

  Rica frowned. "I should watch the console, but, Fynn, you'd be safer outside with a buddy."

  Drew raised a hand. "No problem. I'll go with Fynn."

  Fynn and Drew lagged behind as they returned to the furnace dome. "I really do need to check the pump," Fynn said.

  "Of course you do," Drew said. "And when that's done, you can show me where you found the spirals."

  ***

  Drew stepped through the airlock door and, as soon as both feet touched the dock apron, his heart raced. He knew how to handle that reaction and took a deep, slow breath. "Go check your pump, Fynn. I'll bring the fliers."

  While Fynn hopped down the ramp, Drew fiddled with his helmet's settings until his view was tinted in blues and greens. It didn't look like Earth. Edges blurred and he had to increase the brightness, but his pulse slowed until he felt safe carrying two fliers down to the shore.

  On the smooth surface for the lake, the buoy barely moved with a slight undulation.

  "Doesn't look like much is happening," Drew said.

  Fynn stood with his hands on his hips. "I'm only pumping enough methane for one burner in one furnace. It looks fine." He checked each anchor pole. "That's all I need to do here. Let's fly."

  They flew low and upright until they were out of sight of the domes. Then Fynn pushed out with his feet and pulled back with his hands, sending the flier into a loop. "Beat that."

  Drew swung his legs as he sped forward, carving a giant slalom through the atmosphere.

  "Here's the bay," Fynn said, touching down on a triangular beach. A dark channel entered the lake from an upland that was only knee-high, and fanned out into thin rills that disappeared in the sand. Bright dots sparkled thanks to Drew's helmet settings.

  With too much momentum, Drew's flier clipped the ground, sending him over his handgrips. He skipped over the beach, churning up spirals.

  Drew kept a tight grip on his reactions. "All systems are green." His laugh was sharp. "That was fun." He stood, spreading his arms wide to take an exaggerated bow.

  Movement helped with self-control, so Drew paced out the area and recorded a few images with his helmet camera. "My test trench shows more spirals here, at the center of the beach. Maybe the edges are just buried deeper." He dropped to all fours, searched for a spiral with its opening showing, and panned through the helmet's intensity settings. "I don't see anything inside except more ice-sand."

  He'd hoped for some sign of life and disappointment stilled his trembling fingers. But, lots of empty shells washed up on Earth's beaches, so nothing was certain.

  Drew carried a couple garden trowels from the greenhouse and soon dug out dozens of spirals.

  Fynn carried one to the edge of the lake. "They wash clean pretty easily."

  Drew scooped up a pile in both hands and followed. Cold shocked his good foot and Drew yelped. He'd stepped in the clear methane. The suit reacted and his toes warmed.

  "What's wrong?" Fynn asked.

  "Nothing. I stepped in the lake, is all." The suit returned his foot to a comfortable temperature and his pulse quit pounding in his ears.

  "I've done that too. There's supposed to be heavier hydrocarbons on the bottom, but I don't see anything cloudy."

  Drew squatted to retrieve his spirals and reached a hand to the methane. Looking straight down, the lake was as clear as water and, in these shallows, it didn't reflect the sky. It was hard to see where the liquid met the sand. Drew dipped two fingers in and splashed to watch ripples move away and tiny waves hit the shore. His fingers chilled for a moment but heaters inside the glove quickly adjusted.

  Drew breathed in and out slowly. There was no reason to be so jumpy. He raked the dropped spirals together with his fingers and swished each one aggressively through the methane, washing off clinging ice-sand.

  Fynn stood up. "Hey, do you see that?"

  Drew lifted his head to frown at the lake. "What?"

  "Something blue, like reflections on the waves."

  Drew jumped up and canceled his intensity setting, returning to visible light. He blinked at the change to dull orange and yellows, and saw it. Pale flecks blinking on and off. The ripples quieted and the flecks steadied.

  They stood still, watching, until Drew felt dizzy and had to shift his feet.

  Fynn steadied him with one hand. "I think they're moving."

  Very slowly, the pale dots gathered and began to fade. Drew dropped to his knees and splashed the lake, sending out waves. "They're brighter again, don't you think?"

  "It's hard to tell," Fynn said. "Waves make them bounce in and out of view."

  "They're reacting to the environment." Drew splatted the methane with a flat palm and laughed. "That's a sign of life. Oh, sure, not conclusive." His voice rose and he couldn't stop talking. "But that could be a sign. If there's life on Titan, people on Earth want to know."

  He jumped up and grabbed Fynn's shoulders to peer into his face. "You understand, don't you? There are biologists on Earth who won't care if we hijacked the Herschel. Who'll pay for communications. Maybe even send another ship."

  Flutters filled Drew's stomach and his hands tingled. Even the numb foot tingled. Maybe he wasn't trapped on Titan forever.

  Fynn hopped to his flier. "I'll take a closer look."

  Drew leaned into the thick atmosphere to hurry, slipping as sand kicked out under his feet.

  Downdraft from the fliers hit the methane surface, spreading the pale glows. Fynn tipped his flier horizontal. They swept over the lake as slowly as they could, but the blue flecks disappeared.

  Back at the triangular beach, Drew shoved spirals into a sack, but Fynn pirouetted with his flier.

  "Sea lice," Fynn said. "We found Titan's sea lice."

  "Don't call them that." Drew was grateful the suit hid his trembling. "Naming them as something alive will limit your thinking and keep you from seeing alternatives. We don't know they're alive."

  "You knew a minute ago."

  Drew waved a hand and searched for something sarcastic to say. "Now you listen to me. Did you take any video?"

  Fynn settled to the ground. "No. But anyone can come out here and see for themselves." He scanned the lake's surface but the blue glimmers were gone. "Methane burns blue, but there's no free oxygen, so that can't be what we saw. Besides it's too cold."

  "Copper burns blue, too," Drew said.

  Fynn snorted. "Where do you see copper on this oily ice ball?"

  "There could be a meteorite under the methane."

  "It's too cold for copper to burn too."

  Drew almost mentioned bioluminescence, but stopped himself. He didn't want to talk about earthly life again. With the Advance Team dedicated to establishing a colony, Drew wouldn't make any friends with talk like that, even if he was fairly sure Fynn wouldn't repeat it. He hadn't told Fynn how nervous he felt most of the time because his secret might leak out. If there was one thing Drew didn't need more of, it was stress.

  ***

  Fynn scooped his supper allotment from the bucket and leveled it with a knife. That was the only use he'd have for a kitchen knife for a long time. "It's all chopped so fine, this is like eating baby food."

  Maliah looked over his shoulder. "It has to be, to rehydrate. I'll heat water for both of us."

  He grinned at his sister. "I haven't seen you at meals for a couple days. Drew and I found something in the lake. Little florescent flecks floating in the methane."

  "It's always something with you two." Maliah arched her auburn eyebrows.

  "No, really."

  The microwave was humming when their mother came around the counter, gripping the edge to turn the corner in a hurry. "Good, you're both here. We need to meet your father in Tanaka's office right away." She spun toward the tower without further explanation.

  They left bowls on the counter and
cups in the microwave to hurry after her.

  Yash was already in Tanaka's office, his black eyes locked on an image of Liam on the wall screen. Fynn glanced around, getting an impression of the large, dark paneled room. Emily stood to one side and three adjuncts surrounded a door in the back wall. Before the flutter in his stomach could grow, the door swung open and Tanaka stepped out dressed in standard blue coveralls.

  Drat, he'd forgotten. Fynn tapped his sleeve and switched to the same Kin blue.

  Adjunct Shun hoisted a chair over a nearby desk, and Tanaka sat facing the screen. Liam, perhaps aware of decorum for a change, backed far enough away from his camera to be viewed head-and-shoulders.

  "Let us begin," Tanaka said. "Commander Westergaard has news from the Herschel. Go ahead, Commander."

  "Bad news." Liam's sloping eyebrows shadowed his eyes. "We awakened a level of pods, the Cohort Leaders, and the process did not go well."

  Tanaka leaned forward, both hands on the chair's armrests as if he was about to spring, but said nothing.

  "Of the twelve pods, eight malfunctioned. Those Kin are dead."

  The room froze. Fynn went cold inside and, next to him, Maliah gasped.

  Tanaka raised a hand. "Stop. No awakenings were scheduled. How did this happen?"

  In a barely noticeable move, Liam's chin tilted upwards. "We needed a Cohort's help with the Gravitron segment and the pods are programmed in groups of twelve."

  "So you allowed the medics to awaken twelve?"

  "I don't debate the medics' recommendations. Not the pilots' either, when they say they need help."

  "What do you do, Commander?"

  "I lay out the jobs. Facilitate decisions."

  Tanaka stared steadily at the screen and Liam stared back.

  "This is terrible." Greta spoke in her steady, professional voice. "Do the medics know what went wrong? Did the fault occur during stasis or during the awakening process?"

  Liam frowned. "Don't know. Worse luck. Bartram Fischer, Medical Cohort and stasis expert, is dead."