Ishtar Rising Book 1

by Michael A. Martin

  Corsi seemed to be having similar thoughts. “Doing the work from orbit seems to me a surefire way of avoiding the worst of those hazards,” she said dryly.

  Gold silently conceded that the security chief’s point was an excellent one. Why subject anyone to unnecessary risks on that pressure cooker of a planet?

  “Unfortunately, the whole project depends on a large number of networked ground stations,” Gomez said. “The equipment and software are pretty complex, and only some of these facilities can be automated by slaving them to other stations. But somebody’s got to run and monitor at least the key surface stations.”

  “What about using telepresence?” Faulwell said, a skeptical frown creasing his boyish features. “I’d think that techies in a nice, safe orbit could run the equipment remotely just as easily as people on the ground could.”

  “Amen,” Corsi said.

  “That’s because your respective specialties involve word puzzles and brute force,” Tev interjected testily, addressing both Corsi and Faulwell, “rather than the fluid dynamics of N-class planetary atmospheres.”

  Gomez quickly interceded, prompting Gold to wonder what pungent reply Faulwell had been about to deliver to the second officer. “It’s a good question, Bart. But that superheated carbon dioxide ocean that separates us from the planet’s surface makes ship-to-ground communications pretty spotty. Also, the atmosphere is filled with literally millions of tiny, reinforced probes. They’re in constant subspace contact with each other, the ground stations, the satellite network, and Station Ishtar up in orbit. That web of transmissions can create interference problems with high-bandwidth communications as well. But without it, the force-field generators can’t stay ahead of the atmosphere’s chaotic motions.”

  Stevens spoke up. “I think somebody had better point out that the superrotational zone—” at the blank looks from Corsi, Lense, Abramowitz, and Faulwell, he quickly added, “—that’s the turbulent atmospheric layer that circles the planet once every four days, can play hob with a transporter beam. Those people at Hesperus Ground Station were lucky they were able to beam out before the atmosphere flooded in and flattened the place.”

  “That’s a potential problem, I’ll admit,” said Gomez. “But the project scientists have already provided a lot of good atmospheric data that will help us compensate for that, as well as information on beaming through the gaps in their force-field nodes. When you’re talking about moving an entire planetary atmosphere the way the Ishtar team plans to do it, you can’t afford either comm glitches or transporter foul-ups. So even though it’s dangerous, I’m afraid we’re stuck with the up-close-and-personal approach.”

  Looking overwhelmed, Faulwell set his padd on the tabletop and pushed it away as though it were a plate filled with writhing Klingon gagh. “Can somebody please explain to me exactly what we’re getting involved with here? Preferably without all the columns of figures. Any language will do. Even Tellarite.” He glanced playfully at the second officer.

  Tev snorted. “Linguists. Perhaps we should have arranged the data into rhyming stanzas for your benefit.”

  “All right,” Gomez said, putting up a hand in an apparent effort to encourage Bart and Tev to bury the hatchet. “Remember, this mission is as much about data processing as it is about making brute-force changes to the planet.” She gestured toward Soloman.

  “I will help coordinate the data-flow between the probe network and the ground stations on a full test of Ishtar’s hardware and software,” the slight Bynar said, his hands primly folded on the table beside his padd.

  “What’s involved,” Gomez continued, “is a complex, planetwide network of surface-deployed devices designed to thin out and cool the Venusian atmosphere. Rather than using slower methods, like giant orbiting ‘parasols,’ Dr. Saadya is using a radically different approach: His plan is to use specially shielded, tandem-operated field generators to create a partially gas-permeable force field. The overall operation will follow a carefully orchestrated meteorological plan. But the field will constantly adjust itself to adapt in real time to observed changes in air pressure, temperature, and velocity as it envelops the entire planet and slowly expands outward toward the sunward side.”

  If Stevens repeats that crack about “Venus enlargers” I overheard him make last night, Gold thought, I’m putting him on report.

  Stevens merely sat listening attentively, his eyes twinkling with suppressed mischief, as Gomez continued. “The goal is to push the bulk of the atmosphere far enough away from the surface so that the sun will heat it even further, blowing most of it off into space in a matter of days.”

  “Pas was never one for taking the slow road if he could avoid it,” Gold said.

  Gomez continued. “The net result is a quick reduction of both the atmospheric pressure and the green-house effect, in the direction of something considerably more Earth-like than what’s there now. The process should knock hundreds of degrees off the planet’s surface temperature virtually overnight.”

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Corsi said.

  Tev waved his padd before him, and spoke in a throaty rumble. “The theoretical work appears sound. What remains to be proved is whether or not it will work in practice.” Gold wasn’t certain, but he thought he heard grudging admiration in the Tellarite’s tone.

  “For all that effort and danger, I still don’t see how it’s going to turn Venus into another Earth,” said Lense. “The planet still takes, what, three months to turn on its axis.”

  “One hundred and seventeen days,” said Pattie.

  “Whatever. It’s still a problem. Along with the planet’s complete lack of free oxygen, or even a magnetic field. Think of all the radiation-related health hazards that alone will create for anybody trying to live on the surface.”

  “TANSTAAFL,” Abramowitz said.

  “Excuse me?” said Gold.

  “A very ancient homily that every good scientist or engineer ought to remember. ‘There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch.’”

  “Exactly,” Gomez said, nodding with apparent enthusiasm. “Remember, folks, the initial ‘big blowoff’ we’re assisting with here will only be the first step in a many-years-long process. Adding in the appropriate amounts of nitrogen, oxygen, and surface water will come next, from comets barged down from the Kuiper Belt. Huge surface-mounted impulse engines will be set up to try to speed the planet’s slow, retrograde rotation up to an approximately twenty-four-hour cycle, like that of Earth or Mars.”

  Pondering the planet’s bizarre backward spin, Gold wondered what it would be like to live on a world where the sun rose in the west and set in the east. Probably not the place where Rachel and I will want to retire, he thought wryly, warm weather notwithstanding.

  Gold listened as Gomez continued: “Using similar techniques, the planet Mercury can be relocated into a lunarlike orbit around Venus, where its tidal effects on the planet’s core should create a radiation-repelling magnetic field. The Federation Council will probably provide increased resources for these later steps once Saadya and his team achieve a successful blowoff.”

  “And no doubt Starfleet Command will be persuaded then to schedule a return engagement for the S.C.E.,” Gold said. “And the da Vinci.”

  Gomez smiled enthusiastically. “One can only hope.”

  A broad grin appeared on Stevens’s face as well. Turning toward Gomez, he said, “You sound like the president of Saadya’s fan club, Commander.”

  “Well, it’s hard not to admire what he’s already accomplished all over the quadrant,” Gomez said. Gold wasn’t certain, but he thought she might be blushing. “What he’s about to achieve here—essentially rebuilding Venus into a duplicate of Earth—is nothing short of extraordinary.”

  Gold looked around the room, gauging the reactions of his staff. Other than Corsi’s skeptical frown, he saw nothing but nods of agreement and murmurs of assent. Even Tev looked uncharacteristically upbeat.

  “That’s it, people,”
the captain said, rising to adjourn the meeting. “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I trust that all of you essentially know what you have to do to assist Team Ishtar. Commander Gomez will organize the teams who will report to Dr. Saadya and his staff. Let’s get to work.”

  As the crew filed out, Gold thought, And I, as usual, will do what any other good cat-herder would do in my place: do my best to stay out of the way of the technical wizards.

  Unless something goes seriously mish-mosh down there.

  Chapter

  4

  The outlines of four humanoids and one wider, smaller mass shimmered for a moment in the air, before the members of the engineering team solidified on the transporter platform. Saadya was waiting for them, and as he stepped forward he adjusted his well-worn lab coat.

  “Welcome aboard Ishtar Station again, Commander Gomez,” he said, extending his hand to the young, dark-haired woman who stood in the small group’s center.

  The woman stepped off the platform, followed by the others. Smiling mischievously, she took his hand. “It seems like it’s been…hours, Dr. Saadya.” She gestured to the others behind her. “This is our second officer, Lieutenant Commander Tev, and our tactical systems specialist, Fabian Stevens.”

  But it was the pair to Gomez’s right that held the better part of Saadya’s interest. One was the Bynar, and the other most closely resembled a giant pillbug. I’ve never actually stood so close to a member of the Nasat species, Saadya thought, suppressing a revolted shudder. Gomez introduced the Bynar as Soloman, and the giant insect as “Pattie” Blue.

  Saadya guided the group out of the transporter room and into a corridor. “I’m sorry that my lead assistant, Adrienne Paulos, won’t be able to join us for this dry run. She’s down on the surface overseeing some repairs at Ground Station Sukra.”

  He pressed a panel next to a doorway, and the door slid open, revealing a large room. “This holodeck features an exact re-creation of Ground Station Vesper, although it could really be just about any of the stations. They’re all built essentially from the same design. We have a skeleton crew at each of the stations presently, so that as many of our personnel as possible can engage in these simulations.” He swept one arm wide as a gesture for the others to enter.

  They filed in and saw a number of workers bustling away at computer terminals, checking padds and gauges, and generally looking very busy. Then several of them moved aside, giving the da Vinci team an unobstructed view of the far end of the room.

  Saadya turned just as Gomez’s jaw dropped open and her features took on a look of surprise. Damn. I forgot to tell them!

  * * *

  Everything about Saadya’s operation had seemed very well-designed, if a bit overly cautious in terms of resource consumption. Despite the obviously budget-conscious philosophy at work here—or perhaps because of it—Gomez was impressed as she viewed the ground station’s holographic representation. The simulated viewscreens faithfully displayed the brown-yellow swirls of noxious wind that billowed high above the compound. Or at least the ones that go whipping across the sky over the real ground stations, she thought.

  Then some of Saadya’s workers moved to other stations, revealing the rows of computer banks arrayed farther into the room.

  And the two diminutive Bynars who were working amid this compact maze of silicon, cortenide, and polyalloy.

  Gomez realized with a start that her mouth was hanging open, and she shut it with a snap. Sparing a quick glance over to Soloman, she gave Saadya a sharp look. “You neglected to tell us that you already had Bynars working on this project. Or are they holograms as well?”

  Saadya’s features darkened slightly, and he looked apologetic. “No, they’re quite real. I’m sorry. I thought I had mentioned something about this to Captain Gold.” He gulped. “I hope their being here won’t present a problem.”

  Stepping forward, Soloman furrowed his expansive brow slightly. “It will not be a problem for me, Doctor,” he said. “Certainly, the mass of information the three of us will be able to process will be far greater than anything I could manage by myself, and will also greatly exceed their tandem capacities as a dual processing unit.” Soloman glanced at Gomez, and she saw a bit more trepidation in his eyes than his words communicated. However, he intended to be professional about it, which was her primary concern. Let’s just hope those two Bynars have the same intention.

  Clearing her throat softly to table this line of discussion for the moment, Gomez gestured around the room. “Which stations do you want us to take?”

  Saadya clapped once, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, except that of the Bynars, who remained fixated on their computer screens. They had yet to look up or acknowledge anyone else’s presence in the room. “Everyone, this is the engineering team from the da Vinci. As I briefed you all before, they’re here to help us run this simulation, and if all—when all works out properly, help us implement the actual atmosphere reduction programs we’ll be running on the ground.” He looked back at the assembled S.C.E. personnel and added, “These fine Starfleet officers have had all of Project Ishtar’s schematics since yesterday, which means that they’re already familiar with the broad ideas if not every aspect of the actual implementation. Those of you who were assigned partners, please help bring them up to speed on the operational specifics.”

  As technicians came forward to introduce themselves, and the other members of the team moved toward them, Gomez put a hand on Soloman’s shoulder. The small, slight Bynar looked up at her, his eyes guileless. “Are you sure you’re all right with this?” she asked, taking care to keep her voice low.

  He cocked his head marginally, as if considering the question, then nodded. “Yes. Even though I am no longer bonded, I am still one of them.”

  I certainly hope so, Gomez thought.

  As soon as Saadya brought Soloman near the Bynars, they turned. As if controlled by a single mind, both pairs of eyes narrowed. Gomez could see that the Bynar pair had not been as surprised by Soloman’s presence as he had been by theirs. Did Saadya purposely keep the existence of these two Bynars from us, or was it just an oversight? Gomez wasn’t certain—in fact, she hated to question the motives of someone whose work she so admired—but she intended to discuss this with the captain once she returned to the da Vinci.

  The Bynars—she couldn’t tell which was 1011 and which was 1110, even though Saadya had just introduced them—began speaking to each other, voices high-pitched and chattering, and definitely not in Federation Standard. She hadn’t heard the sound since 111 had been aboard the da Vinci, discussing technical issues with 110. She could hear the same type of data-stream in their sounds as she had heard from some ancient pre–World War III communication devices they had studied while at the Academy.

  Abruptly they stopped, and both of them looked at Soloman. One of them spoke again, in a slower code.

  Soloman sighed. “Of course I can still understand binary language. I am not mentally deficient. I am unbonded due to an accident that befell my mate.”

  The Bynars looked surprised. One spoke, in English now. “Why have you—”

  “—not bonded again—”

  “—with another?”

  Soloman looked as if he was about to sigh again, but Gomez was relieved to see that he didn’t. “The reasons I have not rejoined with another Bynar are not germane to this mission. My personal decisions have nothing to do with atmospheric pressure, force-field mechanics, wind vectors, planetary realignment, or any other aspect of this terraforming project.”

  The Bynars looked up at Saadya with concern showing in their features. “That is not—”

  “—an acceptable answer. How—”

  “—do we know that—”

  “—he is not infected with a virus—”

  “—which will be transferred—”

  “—to us if we link with him?”

  Soloman’s voice got a bit louder, and more stern. “You might at least
look at me when discussing me, please.” Once the pair had returned their gaze to him, flinching slightly, he continued. “I am alone because my partner, 111, was killed on a mission. She was brave and beautiful and able to process data as quickly as any Bynar in the upper cluster. When she was killed, I felt that if I were to re-bond, it would dishonor the memory of her that I carry within my heart.”

  The Bynars blinked once, then twice, then chattered at each other in a stream of code. Seeing that Soloman was making every effort not to wince or evince other emotions, Gomez wanted to rap them on the top of their bald little heads. Within moments, they had stopped again.

  “We will attempt to—”

  “—work alongside you—”

  “—as long as you do not—”

  “—try to infect us with your—”

  “—perverse lifestyle.”

  Gomez had to bite her tongue to suppress a snort. Luckily, Dr. Saadya spoke up quickly. “It is my understanding that 110 is one of the most capable Bynars that has ever worked with Starfleet. I have no doubt he will be an excellent coworker.”

  The two Bynars turned away and stepped back to their workstation, tapping the touch-sensitive monitor. A bright multicolumn stream of data began pouring downward on the screen. They began their code-like chatter almost immediately.

  Soloman looked up at Saadya, who guided him toward another station located several paces away. The scientist resumed pointing at a few panels, and Soloman appeared to understand his tasks very quickly.

  Gomez cast an evil-eye glance at the backs of the other two Bynars’ crania. She didn’t think of herself as someone who often felt vindictive, but these two had been indescribably rude to her friend and colleague.