The Asteroid

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The Asteroid Page 4

by M R Cates


  Françoise turned back to her book, knowing that the upcoming sequence would be signaled by a soft series of audible beeps, continuing until the new telescope position was locked into. The standard tracking movement of the telescope, compensating for the rotation of planet Earth, did not have an accompanying beep sequence, since the tracking had the sole function of locking the telescope on a specific region of space and keeping it there. Nine minutes later the beeps started. She leaned forward, put her book down, and watched the image field displayed on one of the screens move very slowly at the outset, revealing new groupings of stars. The student could also watch galaxies move, the nearer ones with distinct, identifiable shapes, the farther ones slightly fuzzy dots contrasting with the sharply defined stars. After the slow start the mechanical assembly sped up the motion, reducing the displays to streaks of white, not definable in the one twenty-fifth of a second resolution of the display monitors. The reorientation took nearly six minutes, because the telescope had moved from pointing roughly south with an elevation of around twelve degrees to just north of west, with an elevation of about seventy-three degrees. Near the end of the sequence the system slowed again, allowing resolution of the image field. Françoise watched more stars and galaxies pass, moving slower and slower until the image and the beeping stopped on a star field that looked entirely ordinary. The young woman checked her coordinates, then ran a standard program that identified that field of view, locked on the known stars in it and did a rapid background subtraction to see if anything new (or not recorded) was there. When she hit the return the display in front of her went completely black. No strange feature at all. Nothing but the well-catalogued grouping of stars and galaxies.

  Thinking she must have the magnification wrong, Françoise rechecked her magnification coordinates and reentered them. She got the same screen. Then she magnified the view itself, as seen on the screen. In that mode it was possible to make out a few tiny features, but her guess was that they were galaxies not catalogued, or maybe artifacts from the background subtraction routine. Further, the student didn't really know what she was looking for. For the third time she checked all the coordinates and went through the full process once more. Nothing. Puzzled, and concerned as to what kind of trouble she might be in for missing something obvious in the procedures she'd just followed, the student called Dr. Constanza once more.

  Chapter 6

  Sandra was at her office early. Not having had any telescope time the evening before, she was well rested, and by eight o'clock already busy working on the second draft of a paper she was sending to Astronomical Review. The morning went fast and by lunchtime she'd finished the draft and was feeling very good about it. No one had dropped into her office and she'd spoken to no one else during the whole time. Stretching a little, she stood, looked at her watch and sat back down, grabbing the phone. Sandra thought a moment. It would be almost five o'clock in Texas. Then she dialed a number. Waiting, she heard the phone ring five times before an answering machine kicked in. Should have guessed, she thought, slightly miffed. The answering machine explained that Deborah McAnn was not available at the moment but would be happy to take your message.

  “Hi Debbie,” Sandra said, trying to sound as if she weren't disappointed. “Just checking to see how you are. Fine here. I'll try you later. Bye.”

  Debbie was Sandra's only sibling, was five years younger, and something of a wild thing – at least in her sister's mind. It wasn't common that Sandra got her on the first try. It had been eight months since the younger sister had come to Hawaii for a week. The older sister still hadn't quite recovered from the visit. She stared idly at the phone after leaving the message, hung up and considered what to do for lunch. Three steps toward her office door, the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Dr. Hughes, this is, er, Rico Constanza. I hope this is a good time to speak.”

  “Sure,” she said, feeling a little disoriented after being so long in concentration at her desk. Even the phone call to Texas had not snapped her back to normalcy.

  “I honored your request and turned our ten-meter system on your coordinates a few minutes ago. Unfortunately, we saw nothing.”

  “Really?” Sandra's hand went back to her scratch point on the scalp. “Really?” she repeated. “That's strange. I was sure you could see the asteroid, even if you can't resolve it well yet.”

  “Perhaps we ...” He was very diplomatic. “... we may have gotten the coordinates or the orbit wrong.”

  Sandra knew he was being nice. The data had been transmitted directly from the Keck computer to his. There was virtually no possibility that they'd distorted the data. There was every reason to believe that the only possible mistake would have been hers. Yet she was confident she'd made no mistake.

  “It might be,” she said, making herself sound apologetic, “that I didn't have the orbit parameters exactly right – since they were updates from the original orbit data..

  “Yes, perhaps so,” the Spaniard said politely. “I have arranged to have the view expanded and looked at an area a hundred times greater. Nothing there, either. Quite a puzzle.”

  Sandra immediately realized that her new parameters could not be off far enough for the Europeans to miss as far as Constanza had mentioned. Her thought was that the asteroid for some reason had shifted its direction of travel again. Maybe another ejection of material. “I'm puzzled,” she said, “but I'm sure we are at fault. Let me apologize for using your valuable time in this search. It has to be the orbit parameters. I must have given you wrong ones.”

  “We repeated the sequence three times,” he continued, sounding somewhat irritated at having been sent on a wild goose chase. She didn't blame him.

  “I'm so sorry,” she repeated. “Would you mind sending me back the parameters you used and the time they kicked in?”

  “I'll have Ms Marnier send those to you right away.”

  “Was that who operated the scope?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps I should talk directly with her.”

  There was a pause. He seemed to be considering what to do. “Perhaps so. I have not put the ten-meter back into its program sequence yet.”

  “Then ...” Sandra hesitated. A flash of uncertainty washed through her. She didn't want to be cavalier about the utilization of a telescope that cost tens of millions of euros and was certainly in constant demand, with every moment of its time booked. “Is it possible, Rico, to spend a few more minutes in the search?”

  Once more Constanza didn't answer immediately. He considered the situation. He was a bit irked that this brash young American scientist had given him wrong data. At the same time, Sandra Hughes had been very reasonable about the very awkward situation with Haim Sieber. Further, he had not been simply being polite when he'd told her he respected her work. “Well,” he finally said, “I suppose a few more minutes might be ... time well spent.” Though he, in all honesty, didn't think so. But a good deed for Sandra Hughes might serve them in good stead in the future.

  “Good..” Sandra's mind was already on task. “Can you patch me into your Ms. ... what was it, Marn ...?”

  “Marnier.”

  “Yes, Marnier. If you'll arrange to let me speak directly with her, maybe we can find the asteroid.”

  “I can arrange that,” he said, noncommittally, skeptical of what could be achieved by phone.

  “Great. I suppose she can handle your background subtraction routines and other analysis software.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Thank you, then, Rico. I'll stand by.”

  “Let me have her call your line directly, er, Sandra, if you don't mind.”

  She smiled, thinking it nice that he'd remembered to use her first name. “Okay, I'll stand by,” she repeated. “So, shall I hang up?”

  “Yes. And good luck.”

  Françoise Marnier, after the laboratory director spoke to her, suddenly found herself in an even more worrisome situation than the one she'd just gone throu
gh. She continued to have a nagging feeling she must have done something wrong. Why hadn't she found the asteroid? Dr. Constanza had finally told her they were looking for an asteroid. Had the search been for a galaxy or a nebula or something of that sort she'd have been convinced one of the dim objects she found at higher magnification was the target. But she just couldn't have missed an asteroid unless it was simply too small. She hoped that was the case. Maybe the Kecks could see it and their ten-meter couldn't. With a determination she didn't feel Françoise dialed the number in Hawaii that Dr. Constanza had given her, not the least bit sure what the person on the other end would be like.

  “Hello, is this Ms Marnier?” Sandra asked. She was seated at her own computer, the screen showing one of her data images from the last session on the Kecks a day and a half earlier. She had another of her processors tied into the net and had switched on a second monitor for that link.

  “Yes,” came the accented response. “I'm ... I'm Françoise Marnier.” The student had definitely expected to hear a man's voice. Was this some secretary taking the call?

  “I'm Sandra Hughes, from the Keck Observatory,” Sandra said. “I really appreciate your help on this asteroid.”

  “Oh, Dr. Hughes. Dr. Sandra Hughes.” Françoise was impressed. “I ... your work, Dr. Hughes, is something I ... you see, I've read several of your papers.”

  “Wonderful,” Sandra said. “And it's Sandra, please. I'm not very formal.”

  “But I'm ... you see, I'm just a student. I hope you didn't think I ... “

  “Great. You can probably handle that telescope better than the stodgy old timers there.” There was a lilt in Sandra's tone. And she actually meant what she said.

  Françoise blushed, but didn't dare say anything. “What ... was there something you want to do here, that is, to ... Dr. Constanza said you ...”

  Sandra actually smiled. The young woman was flustered, really flustered. She remembered a time – though a long time ago now – when she might have been, too. “If you'll help me – oh, may I call you Françoise? I think we might find that pesky asteroid.”

  The French girl wasn't absolutely certain about the word “pesky,” but said, “I'll try to ... do as you suggest. Dr. Constanza ...” She paused, not sure she had the right to say the next thing. “Dr. Constanza allows us another half hour before ... “

  “I understand,” Sandra interrupted. “Fair enough. I'm just so grateful for these few minutes. It will be a full half day before I can point the Kecks at it.”

  “Yes, Dr. Hughes. Just tell me what you wish.”

  “Sandra please, Françoise. Okay, first let me say that I've estimated that your ten-meter telescope should have been able to see the asteroid, so we'll assume you missed it because it wasn't there – I mean, where you pointed. I'm going to guess that our asteroid has changed orbit for some reason. From its orientation two days ago, and guessing a release of material in a direction I'm also guessing, let's say it has increased, or deepened, its perigee. It was near perigee of the old orbit.” Sandra intentionally mentioned nothing of the shape, but she was guessing a blowout of material from one side of the doughnut, causing it to change direction of motion.

  “Release of material? Really. Had you observed that ... before, uh, Sandra?”

  “No. But we have evidence it might have done so. I'm going to go out on a limb here and figure the asteroid is ... let's say ...” She began tapping at her first keyboard. “Let's say, Françoise, that this is the new orbit.” A group of parameters began appearing on Sandra's screen. “I'll send you these. Adjust the telescope to ... “ Again, she tapped, this time using a different program. “... to these coordinates, corrected by your latitude and longitude. Notice the time stamp, so you can set the time – can you do all that easily?”

  “Yes, I can.” Again Françoise felt herself blush. She knew what to do and was very pleased.

  “Great, Françoise. Now, of course, I won't get the orbit right, so we'll have to back off your magnification about a factor of thirty. We'll try that first. But listen, one more thing, what background routine do you have?”

  The student said, “It's ... it's a standard one I guess, using the star field catalog. I'm not ... don't have certainty about what you mean.”

  “Is there a name associated with it, Françoise? Like Hastings, Valkov, Fortenbury.”

  “Oh,” Françoise lit up. “It's the Valkov routine.”

  “Okay,” Sandra said. “Listen, I'm streaming you my routine. And you can use it yourself later if you wish – but just for your own research, if you don't mind.” Sandra's tone was light and friendly.

  “Yes, thank you,” the student said, not sure what to say. “I ... will it ... I mean will I know how to apply it?”

  “Piece of cake, Françoise. It'll find your region of sky and take care of itself. Just select the image format you have, from a pull-down menu you'll see when you bring up the program. Don't forget to put in the wavelength and time reference of your ranging laser. By the way, your English is superb.”

  “Thank you, Sandra. But ... it's not. The 'piece of cake,' I don't understand.”

  “Just a weird way of saying 'easy.' Vaschment facile, chere Françoise.”

  The bit stream was already on its way. It took fifteen seconds to get to Spain, another half minute to get configured into the student's computer, then was ready.

  “I think I am ... prepared, Sandra,” said Françoise.

  “Great. Okay. Is there any way you can patch your image into the net, so I can see it?”

  “I'm not sure. But ...”

  “Don't worry about it. Just tell me what you see.”

  Sandra's plan was straightforward. She knew how much the orbit had shifted earlier, based on the old 1744 orbit and the one she'd recently calculated. The guess she made was that a similar amount of energy might be released to make a third orbit. The only wild guess was in the direction of the change. If they didn't see anything on the first look, Sandra knew she could re-calculate assuming an opposite direction of material release. Because of the Earth's orientation with respect to the orbit, energy release that was perpendicular to the first two choices should not have moved the asteroid out of the wider view that Françoise had already taken at Constanza's suggestion.

  There was a mix of low sounds coming into Sandra's ear. She could hear the student typing at the keyboard, heard the series of beeps as the telescope re-pointed, and even picked out the background hum of the air circulation system in the room. Five minutes passed before Françoise spoke again.

  “I have a ... a dot in the ecliptic north side of the view field, Sandra.” The student's voice was noticeably excited.

  “Super!” Sandra stuck her right thumb up for her own benefit. “Can you track onto it and increase the magnification?”

  “Yes, I can.” Françoise's voice was higher pitched. “Your program is ... is excellent, Sandra. No shadows or ... what is the term, ghost images.” Her pronunciation put an accent on the middle syllable of 'images.'

  “Thank you for the compliment. Remember, it's now your special copy.”

  Another pause, then, “The dot is in the center now. We will magnify.”

  Sandra found herself biting her lower lip as well as scratching her head. She was amazed, actually, that her guess had been so close. Unless they'd found another uncharted object in the area. But that would be good, too.

  “Is the asteroid distorted in shape?” Françoise asked suddenly. “We have ... a, something like an egg, you see.”

  “That's our friend, 1744. Françoise, you are superb! I owe you a dinner – when I come over there to give a seminar.”

  “Oh, you are coming, then, er, Sandra?”

  “Invited by Dr. Constanza. And I will certainly take him up on his invitation.”

  “Wonderful. It will be an honor to ... well to meet you.”

  “And for me to meet you, too. Listen, can you see any other details besides the egg shape?”

  “It is
quite ... blurred. I'm sorry.”

  “Is the center of the blur perhaps a little dimmer than the edges?”

  After a few seconds Françoise said, “I cannot tell if it is. But let me ... I just remembered, we can put a line through the image, you see, and look at the intensity profile.”

  “Great.”

  The French student took only seconds to set up the display. “The top is ... well, flattened, but not lower in intensity.”

  “Flattened is good enough.” Sandra sighed. A surge of relief went through her. “Françoise, I think 1744 has a hole through it. It's like a doughnut.”

  “Doughnut?”

  “Toroid,” Sandra corrected. “Had it been solid the image profile could not have flattened out without a huge difference in central albedo.”

  “I don't understand an asteroid in such a shape.”

  “Who does? It may just barely be holding together, which may explain the expulsion of material to shift its orbit.”

  “Very strange, yes?”

  “As you French would say, bizarre.”

  Françoise laughed, but fought back the urge to switch to French. She guessed the American could speak her language – especially since her pronunciation was so good – but dared not suppose she could speak it well enough. Not a good time to embarrass the scientist. As a student, she had just had an unbelievably lucky experience. And perhaps even an experience that would have a positive effect on her future career. “Perhaps, if you wish, I should call Dr. Constanza and ... well ...”

  “Yes, tell him we found the asteroid. Let him see your images and ask him to call me at his convenience.”

  “I think perhaps, you see, he has ... has retired for the night. When he called he said would do so.”

  “I don't blame him. I've kept him up latter than I had a right to. Just let him know in the morning. In the meantime you have about ten more minutes before switching back to your main program sequence. If you don't mind please try to improve your image. If you see any clearer sign of our toroid, please call me back. Okay, Françoise?”

 

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