The Clouds of Venus: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q. Morris

  “Now hold that altitude,” Ethan said. “Wait a minute. I’m getting a radio call.”

  “Could you focus on us, please? We’ll miss the spaceship, and then we’ll have to spend another four days on the surface,” Erik grumbled.

  “Stop making such a fuss. It’s a distress signal,” Ethan said.

  “What?” Nuria asked.

  “A distress signal. Wait.”

  “But from whom? From Charles?”

  “Okay, now I have it. A certain Marchenko is urgently asking for help.”

  “Marchenko?” Nuria asked. “Sounds Russian.”

  “Yes, the signal comes from the RB landing module. They have a medical emergency and need urgent help.”

  “Something medical?”

  “Yes, they didn’t reveal any further details.”

  “Then we should help them, obviously,” Nuria said.

  “We have a small problem. Their base is a long way to the north. Remember the downdrafts? To be able to help them, we would have to navigate the spaceship to where they are,” Ethan explained.

  “That sounds dangerous,” Nuria said.

  “It probably is. But, first things first—let’s get your AVs on board. Then we can discuss what we need to do about their emergency.”

  Erik slowed his flight speed a bit. He did not need to slow down much—the main thing was that the spaceship would have the opportunity to catch up with them. He would only be able to see it at the last second, because the clouds were very dense. But he had access to the necessary data in the display, which indicated the ship ought to appear at any moment.

  He activated the magnetic holding devices in the AV’s arms and legs. There—I see the ship! It was flying about two meters above him. He reached it with a short thrust of the jetpack. The magnets in his arms and legs ensured he remained attached to the bottom of the ship.

  Erik clambered around the spaceship and anchored himself to the topside. Nuria was already there—he had not noticed her.

  He broke the connection and became aware of lying on the couch, drained.

  June 17, 2079, Venus Base

  Following his nonrestorative sleep, Peter wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could not put his finger on it, but he felt different. His body was fighting, and he was thirsty. “Katarina, can you give me something to drink, please?” he pleaded.

  “Of course. What would you like?”

  “Something sweet.”

  “A few pieces of dried fruit as well?”

  “No, I have no appetite for them.” He could hardly believe what he was saying, but it was true.

  The robot’s face brightened. Katarina hugged him. “Perhaps you made it!”

  “Perhaps. I’d still like something to drink.” Peter said, smiling.

  “Oh, of course!”

  Peter didn’t ask her what it was. He enjoyed the sweet drink and leaned back. Then he said, “I think I will get some more sleep. Perhaps then I won’t feel so tired.”

  “A good idea!” Katarina said with a charming smile.

  Peter awoke hours later. He wiped his forehead out of habit and found the sweat was gone.

  “How are you?” Marchenko asked.

  “Fine! I have not had such a sense of well-being in a long time.”

  “I will prepare breakfast!” Katarina exclaimed, and started work immediately.

  Peter smiled, walked past her, and put a handful of dried fruit into his mouth. “Please add plenty of jam!”

  “Of course!”

  He kept going, since he just realized the kitchen was not his destination.

  “Where are you going?” Marchenko asked in his usual disembodied voice.

  Peter didn’t answer. It wouldn’t lead anywhere. Marchenko would not understand him.

  “Can you hear me? What are you doing with the pressure suit?”

  Yes, what am I doing with the suit? He needed to wear it, that much was clear. The inner suit had already adjusted to his body shape. It was a good thing that he had practiced this often.

  “What about your breakfast?” Katarina asked as Peter put his helmet on.

  He did not care about breakfast, no matter how much marmalade she made. Let Katarina eat it herself.

  “I cannot let you leave!” Marchenko said.

  Peter laughed.

  “Peter, you’re scaring me. That laugh scares me,” Katarina said.

  He did not know what her problem was. Down here he was in danger. Where he was going, he would feel better. Couldn’t she understand that? Or was she too selfish to let him leave? It had been clear to him that Marchenko wouldn’t understand, but he had expected more of Katarina.

  “I need healthy sulfur,” he said, “not the stuff you gave me.” He didn’t mean to criticize them. They just didn’t know otherwise, but now he knew better. He must not consider their opinions any longer.

  “Sulfur is never really healthy,” Marchenko said. “You realize that, don’t you?”

  “I’m going to obtain some sulfur snow from the mountains in the east.”

  “You mean the lead sulfide and bismuth sulfide found at Maxwell Montes?” the AI asked. “You won’t reach the mountains. They are too far away. And if you do, that stuff will kill you.”

  “It won’t kill me, it will make me strong. Then I won’t need the shell any longer.”

  “I’m sorry, but you won’t get past me. You are no longer the master of your senses.”

  “You can’t prevent it, Marchenko.”

  The suit reported that someone was trying to take control from outside. Peter laughed. He had, of course, changed the codes in anticipation.

  “I’ll stop him!” Katarina cried, running toward Peter.

  The suit’s fist hit her full force. Its exoskeleton was designed to withstand far greater force. Katarina flew a few meters through the air and lay motionless on the floor near a shelf.

  “No!” Marchenko cried. “Katarina? Katarina, report!”

  “I guess she’s not going to report to you any longer,” Peter said. “She should not have tried to stop me. That was selfish behavior that I cannot tolerate in my crew.”

  “Peter, you are ill. Let me help you!”

  “I’m leaving now, whether you like it or not.”

  “I blocked the airlock.”

  Peter laughed. Marchenko still believed he was in charge. He would soon realize that he was wrong. “Let me think,” he said. “If I smash the airlock, what’s going to happen? I’ll help you answer that. The pressure will rise and the outside atmosphere will enter the base, the nanofabricators will be destroyed, and what’s left of Katarina will be crushed. And Maria? Will she suffocate quickly, or will she die due to the atmospheric pressure? But you won’t care, because you won’t be there to experience it, because your data processor will probably fail before that. Therefore, let me out, bean counter!”

  “I’ll release the airlock.”

  “Good idea, and of your own free will, too!” Peter laughed.

  “Hunger, I’m hungry,” someone whimpered in front of him. Maria was crawling out of the sleeping area on all fours. He felt sorry for her. She didn’t try to stop him.

  “What’s wrong with her, Marchenko?” he asked.

  “She apparently cannot survive without help from others.”

  Peter stopped in his tracks. What did Marchenko just say? “What do you mean?”

  “Look at her. Katarina can no longer help her. If you leave the base, she’ll die. I can only watch.”

  That would certainly please you, Peter thought irrationally. His more rational mind argued, But Maria, she does not deserve to die. He had to stay. He owed her that much. But no, he must leave. His body had a very precise idea of what he now needed. His legs moved him unstoppably to the airlock.

  He needed to stay here.

  He must leave.

  He needed to stay here.

  He must leave.

  He must leave.

  The force that pulled him outside the base
was stronger. Maria lay stretched out on the floor. Saliva trickled out of her mouth, and her eyes were bloodshot. The image of her face with its bloodshot eyes was burned into his memory. The airlock door closed behind him. The room filled with dense carbon dioxide. He could not forget Maria’s eyes. He must not go to the mountains, or he would be to blame if Maria died. His body exited the airlock. The base remained behind him, although he fought every step he took.

  “Code gecko thirteen,” Peter whispered into the helmet microphone. This was the emergency command that switched off the suit. The pressure suit reacted before his legs noticed. He suddenly stood still. As hard as he tried, he could no longer move. His body did not agree with this. It fought back with all its might. It was hot. He was burning. He was ablaze. He would die, but it did not matter.

  “Peter? I’ll get help,” Marchenko said.

  Peter watched as error messages filled the helmet display. The communication to the base had been interrupted. He was alone. “I can’t continue,” he whispered, and plunged into the night that unfolded in him.

  June 18, 2079, Venusian Surface

  “Spaceship to Venus base,” Ethan called over the radio.

  “Marchenko here. Are you coming?”

  “We’re on our way. There is good news and bad news.”

  “I’d like the good news first.”

  “We have to shift our course from the equator to latitude sixty degrees north. The computer initially said that we would need to orbit Venus at least once to get there. But we have found a shortcut, thanks to the data from the orbit. At a height of sixty kilometers, there are currents—cyclones—that can catapult us to the north. We can be with you tomorrow at noon Moscow time.”

  “I don’t know if that’s good news,” Marchenko answered in perfect English. “The vital signs of my crew member are already minimal. He’s out there in his pressure suit and is running out of oxygen.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “but we cannot perform miracles.”

  “I know,” Marchenko said. “I do not expect that, either. I was just hoping to save Peter. But you are doing what you can. I’m very grateful to you for that.”

  “What about the second endangered person?” Ethan asked.

  “Maria. She is on her own within the base—and at the mental level of a two-year-old. At least she won't suffocate.”

  “Then we’ll definitely be able to help her,” Ethan said.

  Erik was glad that he did not have to hold this conversation.

  “Thank you. And the bad news?” Marchenko asked.

  “I don’t know yet how close I can get our two AVs. There are strong downdrafts in the north. I need to keep the spaceship away from them.”

  “I agree. It won’t help anyone if you crash due to those downdrafts.”

  “Thank you for your understanding,” Ethan said. “That may mean some extra delay. The AVs have their own jetpacks, but their range is limited. They are mostly meant for controlled landings and then re-ascending.”

  “I trust that you will help as fast as you can. I can’t blame you for what happened here,” Marchenko said.

  “That’s another topic we need to talk through. Of course, my bosses are very interested in what you are doing down there. I was able to brush them off because you have an emergency, but the questions will resurface.”

  Erik admired his diplomacy. Ironically, Ethan, who really liked to talk... he thought. The high-ranking NASA officials had asked millions of questions, and they had not been able to answer any of them. The officials had even wanted to forbid them to think of helping the Russians unless the RB Group put all their cards on the table.

  But then Charles intervened from the orbiting spaceship. International laws obliged them to provide assistance in good faith and without delay. Did their superiors want to stand before the judges at an international tribunal? Erik had been very grateful to the commander—why should the little guys pay for what the big guys had screwed up? Two astronauts were in imminent mortal danger down there. Nothing else counted.

  “I will do my best to answer all your questions,” Marchenko said. “If necessary, I’ll give you access to the databases. I am authorized to do that.”

  “Thank you. But more importantly, how dangerous is the thing that you have stirred up down there? I need an honest answer,” Ethan said.

  “It’s dangerous as shit! Excuse my coarse language, but I cannot think of another word. An extraterrestrial organism that feels comfortable in the human body is the stuff of science fiction B movies.”

  “We’ve also discovered these honeycomb creatures, both in the clouds and in the ground,” Nuria explained. “In our opinion, they work according to the Matryoshka principle. If there are enough resources, smaller elements combine to form ever-larger ones.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be all that there is to it. I have sent you the recordings. It might be showing traces of intelligence.”

  “That may be an illusion, Marchenko. What you are seeing is perhaps the intelligence of the hosts, your colleagues,” Nuria said.

  “We have to keep this away from other people and from humanity,” Ethan said.

  “Your autonomous units are perfect for the job,” Marchenko said. “We should have relied on this technology, too. But hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”

  “I’ll bring the analyzer,” Nuria said. “Maybe I can alter the two crew members’ antibodies to fight the intruder.”

  “That would be a ray of hope. As it stands, it will be too late for Peter. In three hours, his oxygen will be used up, and he will suffocate out there. Marchenko out.”

  “Warning! Here we go!” Ethan said, announcing the maneuver.

  Erik floated. He’d felt heavy while the spaceship had been carried straight up, but now he felt almost weightless. It was like when he was a kid, when they had been traveling in the car and crested hilltops at high enough speeds to create this sensation.

  “Hold on,” Ethan shouted.

  Had they already arrived at an altitude of 60 kilometers? The rising air current had to be very strong. Erik prepared for the roller coaster ride. It began with a strong push in the back. The spaceship was forcefully carried along by the anticyclone in a clockwise direction. Their calm journey had ended—the storm was made up of rotating air masses. They were traveling on a vast carousel as hitchhikers.

  Erik felt the centrifugal forces in his stomach. Above all, he hoped Ethan would make the jump at the right moment. If they wanted to reach their destination as quickly as possible, they must not leave the storm too soon, but only when it would catapult them in the precise direction of their destination. If they waited too long, the storm would carry them past their intended destination.

  But Ethan would succeed. He was a good pilot.

  Jumping off a spinning carousel wasn’t easy, especially when it was not enough to just let go. Ethan would have to maneuver the spaceship downward again so that they could leave the area of the storm. For this he must reduce the load-bearing capacity—therefore, he would have to let out some lifting gas.

  The process would happen more and more slowly as their altitude decreased, because of the increasing pressure. Simulating the process with the computer had proved to be impossible because of the lack of data. Therefore, Ethan was now steering the ship manually, based on his skill and instincts. Erik closed his eyes. He could not be of help in this situation, anyway.

  “Spaceship to Venus base,” Ethan called over the radio.

  “Marchenko here.”

  “We were catapulted northward and have safely managed to reach a lower altitude.”

  “Mm-hmm, okay.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You don’t have to hurry so much anymore. Peter is already dead.”

  “We are all very sorry to hear that, Marchenko.”

  June 18, 2079, Venus Base

  “Damned perfection!”

  Marchenko cursed the Enceladus being that had so perfectly reproduced his conscious
ness. He still felt like a human being, and Peter’s death troubled him greatly. The highly gifted scientist, with his practical intelligence and strong sense of ethics, had grown close to Marchenko’s heart... which he no longer had.

  “The situation has changed dramatically,” he recorded. “Peter Kovalyov has died. We could not save him.”

  He did not transmit any information beyond that to the RB Group. More was not necessary now, so he waited for the answer. Although Venus was near the minimal distance to Earth in its orbit around the sun, it took three minutes for the information to arrive on Earth, so the response could not possibly arrive in fewer than six minutes.

  “How could this happen?”

  Valentina Shostakovna’s voice almost broke, as Marchenko could hear when he received the message from RB after waiting a good ten minutes.

  “We are breaking off the mission. Before you come back, you must guarantee that none of this filth ends up on Earth. Do you understand, Marchenko? Absolutely nothing! If you cannot ensure that, you will have to remain there. The firm would not survive being the cause of a pandemic. Maria is a biochemist. She can’t return unless she finds a solution. Tell her that!”

  “Maria is in terrible condition!” Marchenko responded. “She can do nothing on her own. I asked NASA for help. They will be here tomorrow with two robots. At the moment, I cannot say anything specific about Peter's death. Presumably, the parasites controlling his nerves killed him. As of now, I still do not know how to eliminate the biological contamination.”

  Again, it felt like an eternity before the answer arrived. It was easy for Valentina to talk! Right now, he was utterly powerless. How could he fight the parasites? If Maria received help, he would be happy.

  “An hour ago, I would have turned down a call for help from NASA,” Valentina reported. “But I have to trust you, Marchenko, even though our shared past is very difficult. Just one request. Show the NASA people our research activities here, in detail, so that those activities are documented. Then we can prove that we didn’t violate the agreements. The household robot should tend to Maria until a cure is found.”