AJ grinned, “Sounds great! What’re we going to do, just let these balloons bounce around the surface of Mars blowing out gas?”
Ell snorted, “I’m picturing a big balloon exhausting hot Venusian CO2 through a turbine that extracts the power of its arrival velocity, then it goes into a big tank full of water from Europa. The resultant steam drives the turbines that generate more power for the ports. Somehow I think all those turbines will be enough of an anchor.”
“Ah, yes, but we’ll need a lot more ports delivering nitrogen from Titan than we need bringing CO2 and water.”
“True…” Ell said thoughtfully, “I guess you’d better anchor the nitrogen ports so they don’t bounce around. I imagine people walking around on the surface of Mars won’t take kindly to getting bumped into by a sixteen… or a thirty-three foot spherical port that’s blowing out huge quantities of ultra-cold nitrogen.” She looked thoughtful, “I don’t know if you’ve tried to run the numbers on whether the heat contained in the Venusian CO2 will be enough to generate your steam, but my gut feeling’s that it won’t be quite as hot as you’d like. I read that the ideal temperature for the steam that drives turbines is pretty close to the 465 degrees Celsius you’ll be getting from Venus. Since the Europan water’s cold, you’re going to get steam that’s not up at the temperature you want. Maybe you can get turbines that’re designed to run on lower temperature steam, but if not, you’ll need more heat than that. Also, Mars’s cold enough without delivering nitrogen at minus 180 C.” She twisted her lips, “So I think you’re going to need to use solar parabolic mirrors to boost the heat of your steam and warm up your nitrogen.”
AJ gave her a sheepish grin, “I didn’t want to bring up any of the issues with my beautiful plan until… until I’d solved them. But I was broken hearted when I thought the twenty-two meter-per-second flow rate was going stop us ‘cause I couldn’t imagine there was a solution for that one.”
Ell gently punched his shoulder, “Brother-in-law or not, I don’t want you hiding problems from me. I’d rather get ahead of them from the start than have them bite our buns later.”
Feeling chagrined, AJ said, “Sorry ma’am. It won’t happen again.”
Ell gave him one of her crooked grins, “That’s the right response when you screw up. Except for the ‘ma’am,’ I don’t like being ma’amed.”
“Yes ma’am,” AJ said with a little grin of his own.
Giving him a mock glare, Ell said, “You’d better be glad you’re about to become my relative. And, that it’s considered bad form to tear employees limb from limb the day before their weddings.”
“Yes ma’am…”
Ell’s eyes flashed. She drew breath for a retort, but AJ was saved by a small voice from behind them. “Mom, Mr. Richards?”
They turned and found Zage behind them, wrapped up in a towel. He said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. You said to tell you when I was ready to go swimming? I could come back later?”
Ell rolled her eyes at AJ, “Other five-year-olds’d be really excited to go swimming. I’m practically having to drag this kid down to the water because he,” she made air quotes “‘doesn’t want to take time away from his projects.’” She stood and took her son’s hand, saying to AJ, “I wouldn’t want to waste any more of Zage’s precious time on idle chitchat, so we’ll have to head down to the water.”
Projects? AJ wondered. He said, “You’ll have fun down there. The fish’re amazing.”
Zage nodded seriously, “I really do want to see the fish, but Mom says she has to teach me to swim first.” He frowned, “It doesn’t seem like it can be all that hard. Is it?”
AJ laughed, “I thought it was pretty tough when I learned to swim at your age.” He winked, “But maybe you’ll learn swimming as fast as you learned to ski. You think?”
Zage turned to look out at the water. Taking the question seriously, he answered, “Maybe?”
As Zage and his mother made their way across the patio to the beach, AJ’s eyes followed them. Well, mostly Zage’s mother. Thus he noticed when the kid dropped his towel. The boy’s not fat anymore! AJ thought back to when he’d been sitting next to Zage at their New Year’s breakfast. AJ and Zage had talked about dieting because the were both on the heavy side. I thought there was something different about the kid’s face, but I’d never have realized that it’d changed because he’d lost so much weight. He looks ripped for a kid!
AJ wondered whether it was healthy for a five-year-old to be on the kind of strict diet that could’ve done what he was seeing. Then he looked down at the remnants of the spare tire he hadn’t been able to get rid of for his wedding. I wonder what kind of diet he’s been on.
~~~
Ell was also staring at her son. All his pudgy fat’s gone! She’d known he was losing weight because his face and neck had started looking thinner, but now she saw he’d lost so much she could see muscular definition. She thought that if all his weight loss had come from a diet, his muscles would’ve looked wasted, but he looked healthily muscular. Is this okay in a kid his age? she wondered. She also wondered how it could’ve happened without her noticing it. She abruptly recognized, Because he’s been bathing and dressing himself for a year or two now. I haven’t seen him like this for ages.
Thinking positive strokes were in order, she said, “Hey kid, looks like that diet’s really been paying off.”
Zage looked down at himself, “Um, yeah.” He looked out at the water, “Should I put in this port snorkel now?”
Ell snorted, “No, just leave it there on your towel. First, I need to be sure you know how to swim without any aids. Don’t want you drowning just because you fall in a puddle.”
“Okay,” he said, dropping the snorkel on the towel and starting toward the water.
~~~
When they came back out of the water fifteen-minutes later, Ell thought, the kid swims like a fish! He’d seen a couple of fish at a distance while Ell was showing him how to swim. Now he was running enthusiastically up to get his goggles and snorkel so he could go further and deeper to see them better.
He grabbed Ell’s goggles and snorkel while he was there and came running back to her. Now he looks like kids’re supposed to, she thought wistfully.
But I’d be crazy to regret the way he is…
***
NOAA, Silver Springs, Maryland— The group COTwo held a protest in front of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration today. This was not a protest about high levels of CO2, as one would’ve expected in the past. Instead, the group feels we are lowering the CO2 levels so rapidly it’s disrupting the environment through precipitous change. Randal Simmons, the group’s representative, says, “Our ecology’s accommodated to the high levels of CO2 in our atmosphere, as well as the resultant global warming. The abrupt drop in CO2 levels brought on by the rapid shift from fossil fuels to solar ports is resulting in a much too rapid reversal of these changes. Our adapted ecosystem’s suffering as a result…” The group argues for a restriction of ETR’s solar power system licenses in order to allow a more gradual shift of CO2 concentrations back toward pre-industrial levels.
A small counter-protest group pointed out that the protesters mostly came from northern states whose climates have been somewhat improved by global warming…
Marcus Turner saw Vanessa in the lab. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“Um, yeah. It’s about Zage’s peptide.”
“Is there a problem?” Turner asked. In view of the revenues that might be generated by a peptide that helped people lose weight, he certainly hoped not.
“He got help from Gordito when he was designing the peptide.”
“Crap! Really?!”
Vanessa nodded. “He says it’s not a problem and points out that Gordito functions as a kind of scientific charity. I didn’t know this, but, even though they charge money for analyzing protein and peptide structures, it’s just a disincentive to keep people from submitting ridiculous numbers of sequences. He told
me they actually donate the money to Doctors Without Borders. I’ve checked and it’s true.”
Turner shook his head slowly, “I had no idea… Nonetheless… Wait a minute, did Gordito even exist back when Zage started working with that peptide? I thought… I thought Gordito just burst onto the scene last winter?”
“Yeah,” Vanessa said, not looking happy about it. “I asked Zage about that and he claims he got his peptide from a precursor site to Gordito that was run by the same people. I contacted Gordito through its website—which is the only way you can contact them—and they confirmed Zage’s story. Both that he contacted them at a precursor website, and that they don’t charge for any of their services. They claim to be completely funded by an anonymous donor.”
“But… They might still claim rights to that peptide.”
“No, they say they don’t and won’t. Zage pointed out that they didn’t claim rights to any of the peptide antigens they generated for smallpox vaccinations either. Their email reply to me included a lot of legalese by which they granted all rights to the peptide to us.”
“To us? You, me, and Zage?”
“You, me, Zage, and the University,” she shrugged, “…to be divided up according to pre-existing agreements.”
“Oh,” Turner said, while wondering exactly what pre-existing agreements might hold sway and how they’d actually divide up the ownership. “Did you tell the tech development office about this yet?”
“No, I wanted you to know about it first. Didn’t want you getting blindsided if they came back at you with a question.”
“Okay, thanks. I guess you should go ahead and let them know.” Turner went into his office but didn’t get any work done. He just sat there thinking. At least the little genius didn’t come up with that peptide all by himself, he thought, feeling better about the way the child outshone everyone. But who the hell is Gordito and how do they do what they do? Then he had an idea, Maybe I could get Gordito’s help with a peptide for one of our projects. He started racking his brain for some problem they’d been working on that could benefit from a peptide consultation.
After pondering for a while, he laughed to himself, Wouldn’t you know it. I’ve found a beautiful hammer, but there aren’t any nails…
***
Rick stepped into the lab. Seeing Alice and Carley, he turned and stepped over to the bench that sometimes hid Zage. He peered over, but Zage wasn’t back there. Turning back to Alice and Carley, he said, “Hey, did you guys get invitations to Zage’s birthday party?”
They both nodded, Alice seeming amused and Carley looking concerned.
“Um, how’re you going to handle it?” Rick asked.
“I said I’d be there,” Carley replied emphatically, as if she were thinking, “of course.”
Alice looked measuringly over at Carley, then said, “I haven’t decided yet.” She turned her eyes back to Rick, “What’re you thinking?”
Rick stared at them, surprised by their attitudes. “I’m thinking it’s absolutely freaking bizarre that I’ve been invited to a five-year-old’s birthday party!”
“He’s not your usual five-year-old,” Carley said a little hotly. “Besides, he’s turning six.”
“Five, six, it’s all the same,” Rick said. “I think it’s weird to be expected to socialize with a child, even if he is a prodigy.”
“But not to work or do research with him?” Carley said, rolling her eyes. “He’s way different from any other kid that age. Think about his life. He has nothing in common with kids his age. He’s got far more in common with people our age.” She gave Rick a glare, “Or perhaps, with people who’re as mature as we’re supposed to be.”
Alice laughed. “I’m coming at this from a completely different angle than either of you. Like Rick, I have a feeling that going to a birthday party for a kid his age could be weird, but I think hanging out with Zage doesn’t feel like being around a child at all. Sad for him, perhaps?” She looked back and forth from Rick to Carley, “But the biggest thing is, I’ll bet his dad’s going to be there. It’s not every day I get to chit-chat with a Nobel prize winner. I’ve just decided I’m going to go.”
Rick stared at Alice for a moment, then said, “I’d forgotten about that. I guess I’m in. What kind of gift are you getting the little guy? An action figure?”
For a moment it looked like Carley was going to explode. Then it passed and they all tried to think of reasonable gifts.
***
Research Triangle Park, North Carolina— Last week, Extra Terrestrial Resources (ETR) announced the landing of a survey and mining base on the large metallic asteroid known as Psyche 16. Weighing in at twenty-seven quadrillion metric tons, Psyche’s the tenth largest asteroid and by far the largest metallic asteroid. A storm of protest has arisen over this presumed claim. People objecting include a number of individuals who have claimed Psyche 16 as their own by filing documents with their governments or making claims on various websites. Several nation-states have objected based on their own claims to Psyche as a national territory. Few courts will uphold such claims—based on the long-held doctrine that claiming territory requires physical touch. However, many individuals or entities are using the same doctrine to object that ETR cannot claim the asteroid because no humans have landed there, only an industrial mining complex manned by waldoes.
For its part, ETR points out that twenty-seven quadrillion metric tons is more than anyone can possibly use and says that they do not claim the asteroid, they only intend to mine a small portion of it. An ETR representative said, “Psyche 16’s mostly iron with some nickel. Last year almost 2 billion tons of steel were produced here on Earth. At that rate of consumption, Psyche 16 would supply the world’s iron needs for over 13 million years (even ignoring the fact that steel’s the most recycled material). No one needs to worry that ETR’s going to ‘use up’ Psyche.”
A Montana man, Jason Stackhouse, says he’s ready to “go to war” if his internet claim on Psyche’s not honored…
***
Carley followed Eli toward the AA meeting, wondering what it was going to be like. He’d told her that they were going to an “open” meeting, which was the kind she’d be welcome at. AA also had closed meetings for alcoholics only. Eli was walking a few steps in front of her. She’d tried to catch up, but he’d kept ahead. She said, “You’ve been to AA meetings before?”
He didn’t turn back toward her, which she felt was a little strange. He spoke over his shoulder, “Yeah. They’re not really right for somebody like me.” He shrugged, “More for hard-core drunks who can’t stop drinking without somebody to lean on.”
“Eli,” she said quietly but forcefully, “you keep saying you can stop drinking. But you don’t. I don’t think you can stop—”
“I can!” Eli threw back over his shoulder again, though he immediately turned back to the front. “I’ve done it a million times! I’ve told you this over and over.”
“So then, are we wasting our time? From what I’ve read, AA’s for people who realize they’re alcoholic and want help.”
“Yeah, it’s a waste of our time,” he said vehemently, again without turning. “I’ve told you that, but you keep insisting—”
“Eli!” Carley interrupted. “Stop! Talk to me. I’m only insisting that you stop drinking. I don’t want to waste the people’s time at AA if you’re not committed to stopping your drinking.”
Eli stopped but didn’t turn to face Carley. She could see his shoulders were tense. He said, “I’m committed. I’ve already stopped drinking. I don’t need any help from these assholes.”
Suddenly suspicious, Carley slowly walked around to stand in front of him. He turned his head to look out into the street. “Eli, look at me.”
He turned his head just far enough toward her so his eyes could look at her.
“You haven’t stopped drinking. You’re drunk right now, aren’t you?”
“I’m not drunk,” he said in a surly tone. “I only had a beer so I�
�d be able to tolerate the kind of pompous jerks that come to these meetings.”
Carley smelled the beer on his breath. Several beers she thought. She studied his face for a moment, then said, “Find yourself some other place to live then. I love you, but not when you’re drinking. It reminds me too much of—”
“I’m not like Dad,” Eli interrupted angrily.
“Yet.” Carley studied her brother’s face for a moment as he looked everywhere but at her. She said, “There’re some genes associated with alcoholism. If it turned out that you had one and something could be done about it, would you be interested?”
Apparently looking across the street, Eli swallowed. He shrugged, “Sure. Whatever.”
Carley stepped around him and started back down the street the other way. She said, “I’ll check you for those genes and get back to you if you have any of them. Meanwhile, don’t come back to my place.” She jerked a thumb back over her shoulder, “I’d suggest you go on into that AA meeting, but it’s up to you.”
As she strode away, she felt the hot tears running down her cheeks. I’ve deserted my little brother, she thought. Then, fiercely, I can’t help him if he doesn’t want help.
No one could, she told herself. But then why do I feel like such a horrible person?
***
“AJ,” a familiar voice said behind him.
AJ turned around and saw Ell walking into the ETR research area. “Yes, ma’am?” He asked.
Ell lowered an eyebrow, “What’d I tell you about calling me ma’am?”
Terraform (an Ell Donsaii story #15) Page 6
