The Clouds of Venus: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q. Morris

  Suddenly rays of all colors of the spectrum cascaded over him. It was a kind of rainbow! The sunlight must be passing through a cloud layer with lots of water vapor. No Venus researcher would have believed that such phenomena existed here. It was a unique spectacle, and it was over after only a few minutes.

  “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “Saw it and recorded it,” Nuria replied. “The atmospheric researchers will be happy.”

  “I’m happy, too,” Erik said.

  June 7, 2079, Venusian Atmosphere

  This time the two of them were standing together on the roof of the cabin—Nuria had insisted on helping him with the collection of samples, and Erik could understand. The experience of being at the top of the world, with your head in the clouds, was simply unsurpassed.

  But she also had a practical reason. To get samples from as many different atmospheric layers as possible, they wanted to rappel from the ship. Although their AV bodies could withstand high pressure and heat, the spaceship itself could not sink much lower than 40 kilometers. Therefore, they would plunge into the depths using a safety line.

  “It’ll be an adventure, just like back at the Havre Volcano,” Nuria had said.

  But there were a few differences. The ship from which they had jumped into the sea at that time was not hurtling at 360 kilometers per hour across the surface of the sea. The suits would enable them to climb back up with the help of the inbuilt jetpacks, but if they weren’t able to get to the spaceship, they would not be able to reach it until four days later, once it had flown around Venus. You could only make the ship stop if you made the entire atmosphere of Venus stand still. However, only the sun had the ability to do so—if it were to be switched off, the force of Venus’s winds would quickly subside.

  “Do you have the rack with the tubes?” Nuria asked.

  Erik pointed toward his feet. “Right under your nose.”

  “Okay, Ethan, we’re ready. Could you please stop every thousand meters?” Nuria asked.

  “Will do, as agreed upon,” Ethan replied.

  Erik grasped the rope. The clouds showed intricate patterns of yellow, purple, and light blue streaks. A delicate, gray veil covered everything, subduing the colors and swallowing up part of the sunlight. It was not as misty as in a laundry room, but more like a rare, gray November day on the Atlantic coast, when no wind was blowing.

  But looks can be deceiving. A storm roared around them, stronger than any hurricane on Earth. They didn’t notice it was happening because the atmosphere carried them along with it. They decided to plunge near the equator, and for good reason. Further north and south, colder currents met warm air layers and were pushed downward. If the spaceship were to enter such a spot, they would undoubtedly lose control of the ship.

  They began to rappel down. Erik observed the spaceship’s hull above him. It looked as though there were dents on the sides. But that could also be due to the ever-increasing air pressure. Ethan has it under control, he told himself.

  “Okay, you have reached the first stop,” Ethan said over the radio.

  The cabin swayed a little. Nuria took a sample tube, filled it with air from Venus’s atmosphere, and placed it back in the rack.

  After half an hour the crate was half full.

  “I can’t lower you any further,” Ethan reported from the cockpit. “The rest is up to you.”

  Erik nodded at Nuria, who made an okay sign with her right hand. He placed one sample container after another into the tool bag. Ten glass tubes—that translated to a ten-kilometer dive into the depths. He secured the special rope by pulling it through the steel grommet on the cabin, and then released his safety catch. He walked to the edge of the roof. He knew he shouldn’t look down, but he couldn’t resist. It didn’t look too scary, because thick clouds covered the abyss.

  Erik jumped into the clouds. As he fell, his palms became moist. He looked at them briefly, but there was nothing to see. It must be the sweat glands of his own hands that produced the moisture. He briefly saw himself clinging to the safe armchair in the cabin. He wiped away the thought before a dangerous loop could be created. One of the first lessons in dealing with an AV—never look at your real body.

  He used a thought command to obtain the current altitude. It was shown in his field of vision—a red number appeared, floating in the air. It was time to press the brake. He was now 39,000 meters above the surface of Venus. He carefully took out a glass tube, filled it, and put it in another compartment of the tool bag. If he were to break one of the tubes, Nuria would give him hell. Erik laughed. Even for Nuria, it would be difficult to surpass the heat of Venus’s hell. It was already 98 degrees, and the pressure was continuously rising.

  At an altitude of 35,000 meters, the cloud cover beneath him opened up. Erik saw a fascinating landscape that reminded him of the undersea area around the Havre Volcano—only here it was not so dark. It was an enormous desert. But the terrain had little in common with Earth’s. He had seen pictures of Mars, which looked almost cozy by comparison.

  While Mars reminded him of an old, fat man whose wrinkles were hardly noticeable due to subcutaneous adipose tissue, Venus reminded him more of a woman who couldn’t care less about her age. Venus still had a lot of energy—inside, as shown by the volcanic activity—but also on the outside, where storms roared over and roughly caressed the planet.

  The surface seemed so close from here that Erik would have liked to rappel all the way to the surface. His AV body would easily cope with the pressure and heat down there. It must be a strange feeling, perhaps almost like swimming. But such a descent had not been planned. On no account did NASA want to lose the expensive AVs, and in any case, the cloud cover was more promising than the surface, which was generally considered to be geologically active but utterly devoid of life. What kind of life could exist down there, anyway? Nevertheless, he’d like to go for a walk.

  “Everything okay, Erik?”

  “Of course.”

  He’d almost forgotten the task Nuria had assigned him. He took another glass tube out of his pocket. The containers were color-coded so that each sample could be assigned to a specific elevation. He filled the tube and retrieved the corresponding environmental data—three bar pressure, 132 degrees.

  “That’s the last stop. You can’t go any further,” Ethan said.

  Erik checked the special rope. He could descend a few more kilometers. And then he also had the jetpack. But it was a good thing that Ethan cared about his safety. “Taking the last sample,” he said.

  He reached into the tool bag for the last glass tube that was marked in purple at the top. He pulled it out—and watched in amazement. As if a strong hand was squeezing it, dents formed in the brittle glass, starting in the middle. Then cracks formed, and finally the whole lower part of the tube burst, disintegrating into tiny pieces that fell, along with its seal, toward Venus’s surface. Erik was left with the upper part of the tube in his hand.

  “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “Yes, too bad,” Nuria said. “I’m missing a value now.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Erik. It must have been a manufacturing defect,” Ethan consoled him.

  “Definitely,” Nuria said. “The tubes are designed to withstand up to 50 bar. That was not supposed to happen.”

  “Maybe it was the paint,” Erik said. “You applied the color afterward. It conducts heat at a different rate than the glass. That could have led to temperature differences, which caused the breakage—”

  “Hmm. That sounds plausible,” Nuria said. “Then it was my mistake.”

  “Don’t worry about it. After all, you have nineteen samples,” Erik said.

  “Yes, that’s true,” Nuria conceded.

  “Since we are here, what do you think of a descent to the surface?” He could at least try, even though he already knew the answer.

  “No way,” Ethan said. “I forbid it.”

  “Okay, I’ll come back up then,” Erik said.


  He closed the tool bag and switched on the electric motor. It rewound the rope, pulling him upward.

  June 8, 2079, Strelka, Venus Orbit

  They had performed their daily exercise regimen for the last time yesterday. Peter was now looking forward to the massage session. It would be the last one for a long time. They had gravity again, because the spaceship had been decelerating for a while. That was quite convenient, because there was a lot to do that was unnecessarily complicated in conditions of weightlessness. Chiefly, they needed to load the landing module in preparation for its mission.

  Peter looked at the screen above his seat. Venus appeared bigger each day. They would dive into its orbit in a few hours, circle the planet a few times to explore the current wind conditions, and then land.

  Maria was sitting next to him. It looked as if she was also studying her screen, but Peter knew her well by now. She was deep in thought, revealed by the vertical crease on her forehead.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m a little scared,” she admitted. “Not of what awaits us below, but of the flight through the atmosphere. We can only see the upper layers. What if there’s so much turbulence below them that the landing module can’t keep its balance?”

  “Everything will be fine,” Peter said. “We know all about the conditions in the lower air layers, due to the many unmanned flights. And the robots and the equipment arrived in good condition at the RB ground station. For now, let us enjoy the last wellness highlight of our outbound flight!”

  But Marchenko interrupted them. “I have important information for you. Our sensors have discovered a second spaceship orbiting Venus. Meanwhile, we have confirmation from Earth that it’s a NASA expedition looking for life in the atmospheric layers. So we have to dive as quickly as possible so that they don’t get a chance to observe our landing.”

  “How long have you known about this?” Maria asked.

  The AI hemmed and hawed. Peter sensed that they were not going to like the answer. How annoying this perpetual secrecy is!

  “The basic outline of the NASA expedition’s plan has been known to us for some time. However, we thought that we would arrive a few days before them. Then we could simply have identified ourselves as a research mission.”

  I knew it! “When, exactly, did the sensors discover the ship?” he asked sternly.

  “Two days ago. But I was instructed to first clarify the situation with RB before I spoke with you.”

  “Valentina?”

  Marchenko did not answer.

  “And now we can no longer disguise ourselves as a research mission?”

  “Well, yes, we certainly can, but we just have to keep the NASA crew from finding the base’s location. It’s pretty easy to see from the exterior that we’re not just performing research there.”

  “What does this mean for us?”

  “The lander will disappear into the clouds pretty quickly. The descent could thus be bumpy. I’ll keep sick bags ready for you.”

  “Thanks a lot, Marchenko,” Peter said. “I would like you to inform us in a timely fashion in the future.”

  The AI didn’t answer.

  Peter undressed and lay down in his capsule, deep in thought. The massage session began. It was a pleasant feeling as always, but today it was difficult for him to relax. The news about NASA’s mission had caught him off guard, and he was angry with RB for not giving them the message until the very end.

  He posed a question into the air. “Where’s Katarina?”

  “She’s already in the lander, ready to take off,” Marchenko replied. “But you still have at least three hours left. We want to find an optimal point so that you don’t need to travel too far to the base station, even though the lander itself can compensate for a few hundred kilometers with the help of its engines.”

  Would they really not have contact with NASA, go about their work undisturbed, and disappear again unseen? What if the NASA researchers noticed their activities? He sighed. RB itself would be held accountable for any problems that arose. He fell asleep with these thoughts.

  “I’ll miss these capsules,” Maria said as she emerged, clothed, from behind the dividing wall, after the session ended.

  “Can I send Valentina this comment as feedback?” Marchenko asked. “She asked me for an evaluation. This combined exercise and cultural program, including the massage sessions, was her idea, most likely born out of her month-long stay on the research spaceship ILSE, which she probably found very stressful.”

  What transpired back in those days? Peter mused. If his information sources were right, the AI was present on both ILSE expeditions.

  “Yes, of course, and give her our regards,” Maria answered.

  “When you communicate with Valentina, please ask her if there’s any news about Anastasia,” Peter said. “I would find it extremely reassuring if she were behind bars. Or dead.”

  “Oh—the NASA ship is hailing us,” Marchenko said. “They want to know who we are and what we are doing here. It’s best if you answer, Maria. A woman’s voice always makes a good impression.”

  “What should I say?”

  “Something about a routine inspection, and just leave the rest unsaid.”

  “Okay,” Maria said, swallowing audibly.

  “I’ll connect you now,” Marchenko said.

  “Hello,” Maria said in a honeyed voice. “This is Maria from the RB spaceship. What’s up?”

  “Hello. This is Charles, the commander of Venus Air. I would like to know what you are looking for out here, in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Well, we could ask you the same question.”

  Charles laughed. His voice sounded friendly.

  Too bad we’re on opposing sides. I could certainly share a few convivial drinks with him, Peter thought.

  “You’re right,” the NASA commander replied. “We are a NASA research expedition.”

  “And what are you doing here?” Maria asked.

  She has expertly taken the initiative. I could not have done better, thought Peter.

  “We’re examining Venus’s atmosphere. Our plan has been made known for a long time, so it almost surprises me that you are only getting in touch now. We could have reached an agreement. Maybe one of us will need help.”

  “We’re here for a routine inspection,” Maria said. “Unfortunately, there is not much time to chat. We have to prepare for landing. Have fun.”

  Charles stopped asking questions and ended the conversation. A real pity. Under different circumstances… But the RB mission was too sensitive to handle onlookers.

  It took less than 30 minutes for Peter and Maria to arrive at the landing module, stow away their personal belongings, and strap themselves into their special seats. Maria’s seat was still humming, while Peter’s seat had already adjusted to his body. On a screen, they could see the planet they were about to set foot on. At least they hoped they were!

  Venus looked extremely beautiful in its own way, but not exactly inviting. Bands of dense, pale-yellow clouds prevented them from viewing the actual surface. The clouds moved at hurricane speed around the equator and acted as a barrier, as if to ward off intruders. Sulfuric acid lay in wait for them in the clouds. Venus was certainly not the place Peter would choose for a vacation, even if the sulfuric-acid rain evaporated before it could reach the surface. The surface with its temperatures between 400 and 500 degrees was simply too hot for the acid—and was likewise too sultry for a summer vacation.

  What will it look like at our destination? Peter wondered. He had viewed radar images of the region called Lakshmi Planum. It was a plateau, almost four kilometers high, named after the Hindu goddess of wealth. Had RB chosen this location because of its name? The lava flows, visible on the radar images as lines, had cooled off a long time ago. They had almost certainly been the deciding factor, because it was volcanic eruptions that brought diamonds to the surface. And RB’s ultimate goal was, after all, the mining of diamonds.

&nbs
p; “You’re ready to launch,” Marchenko announced.

  The airlocks closed. Loud rumbling and humming told them that the decoupling process had begun. First, the protective hull of the spaceship opened. Then the landing module was moved away from the spaceship, centimeter by centimeter, the load-bearing arms still grasping it. Only at the right moment would they give the lander a precisely calculated thrust against the direction of flight of the spaceship.

  The countdown for that moment had begun.

  Three, two, one. A brief push, and they were flying independently, orbiting Venus.

  “Separation successful,” Marchenko commented.

  The lander and the ship drifted apart.

  “Safe distance achieved,” Marchenko said.

  Peter anticipated the next thrust, and here it came. The power of the lander’s engines pushed him back into his seat, their thrust reducing the speed of the lander. The engines did not have to do anything beyond that—Venus’s gravity took care of the rest.

  Again and again, the engines fired briefly, either to correct the transporter’s speed or to stabilize its position, because they had already reached the planet’s atmosphere.

  June 8, 2079, Venusian Atmosphere

  Erik yawned. Could someone please strike this day off the calendar? Ethan was comfortably seated at the controls, Nuria was busy analyzing the samples, and he was supposed to clean. Oh, great! In return, Ethan had promised to assign the next spacewalk to him, which had not annoyed Nuria in the least. She was so absorbed in her work that she was reluctant to join them for meals.

  Erik pushed the shower curtain aside and knelt in front of the narrow, white basin. At the edge, where the basin was attached to the steel wall, there were telltale black stripes. What was growing there seemed to like the climate in the cabin. Erik took a brush out of the bucket and collared the little creatures. He then decided to use a scraper.