He scanned the gate, slimy from the methane running down from the ice above. The metal seemed to be solid and seamless. The gate was probably made from one single piece. Where could he open it? There was no keyhole. Perhaps it would be like a good old adventure story where the hero would discover a few symbols on the gate and put them in the right order, which he’d valiantly deduce from other symbols, and then the door would swing open with a whoosh! Or he should simply say, ‘Open Sesame.’
But there was no puzzle here. There probably wasn’t even a key. A key to what, anyhow? The mechanism would be accessed remotely. Equipped with standard encryption, the door would remain blocked to all unauthorized individuals whereas those with permission to enter would not need to carry a key with them. He examined the gate again.
He noticed something on the left. It looked like somebody had been chiseling at about chest height. The gate didn’t show any evidence, but something had been broken off from the edge of the ice. There was more metallic material inside the ice. Nick took the screwdriver and hammer out of the tool bag to make a bigger hole in the ice. This confirmed what he had suspected. The gate was significantly larger than the section that he could see. This meant that it wouldn’t be possible to dig a way around it. The gate was not a gate at all, but the outer wall of a much larger structure. The Russians must have found it. They’d used an existing hole to approach it but couldn’t find the entrance. This must have then led somehow to a quarrel.
That sounded plausible. But it also meant something that he was reluctant to admit, because it complicated things so much. The wall of the entire structure in the ice was not built by humans, but someone else.
He forced himself to say it out loud. “By aliens.”
His heart began to beat faster. But really, he didn’t need to get so upset. Triton had been a part of the solar system ever since the dawn of humanity, and much longer. This moon had never seemed of much importance apart from its relatively large size. It may have collided with other moons in Neptune’s orbit, but otherwise it had not done any damage. Although Triton was geologically active because of its proximity to Neptune, there was no other activity. He pounded against the metal violently. There’s certainly nobody here anymore, he told himself. A long time ago, when there hadn’t even been humans yet, a passing civilization may have set up a depot here, but it hadn’t been visited since. What was the problem?
The problem was people. Perhaps the three Russians had, like treasure hunters, tried to find what they suspected the aliens had left behind. This had ultimately led to a quarrel that escalated to a full-fledged conflict, and now all three were dead.
The theory was plausible, even if he didn’t know exactly what had happened. But what role had the Triton station played in all of this? Perhaps there was no connection at all. On the one hand, he’d entertain the possibility there was no connection, and just as quickly the ‘other hand’ option came to mind and he’d go back to seeing a connection. Nick couldn’t decide. Two mysterious events that had nothing to do with each other seemed like too much of a coincidence. But the human mind too often sees connections where there are none. If Oscar were there now, he would undoubtedly have calculated probabilities for both scenarios.
That was the answer. Down here, he couldn’t go any further. His predecessors had already tried to get around the wall and were obviously unsuccessful. With what little oxygen he had left, he shouldn’t even try. It was time to make his way back. The only way that he would find the solution was with the robot’s help. And then, at the very least, the Triton station would come into play by providing them with shelter until they found a ride back to orbit.
Nick touched the wall one more time with his hand. He remembered that he hadn’t analyzed it yet. He aimed his laser spectrometer on it. The beam vaporized a few atoms and measured the emitted light, and the device determined that what stood before him was a fairly standard steel alloy. This data matched with the electrical conductivity of the material.
It was a good thing that he’d analyzed it. Aliens who built with steel were less advanced those who built with exotic materials, making them potentially easier for Nick to deal with. He knocked on the door and the spacesuit measured the sound conduction, with interesting results. Nick looked at the tiny screen on his wrist. The rebound of the sound waves told him the material had to be about 30 centimeters thick. Beyond it was hollow space, not ice.
5/19/2082, Triton
The suit’s navigation system led him along the shortest route to the Hall of the Ice Queen. The tent was still there. Nick was so tired that he fell asleep while he was taking care of his personal hygiene.
He woke up a few hours later because he was cold—the spacesuit had reduced its heat output to save on battery power. He should have thought of that before and heated the tent with the two Russians’ batteries. But it wasn’t worth it now to get dressed, leave the tent, put on another suit, and then sleep for a few more hours. He reapplied the protective cream thoroughly, ate something, peed in a bag, put on a fresh diaper, and then battled his way into the LCVG and spacesuit. Camping on Earth was far less complicated than it was out here...
When he stuck his head out of the tent’s hatch, everything outside looked the same as before. Nick was disappointed. He couldn’t even say what he’d expected. New day, new beginnings? It hadn’t changed much. His joints hurt in the same places as before. Whenever he moved, a crust of dried blood and sweat seemed to flake off somewhere. After 20 minutes of walking, his body had become a single open wound again. He was a man without skin, an animated cadaver dragging himself to his destination.
But it wasn’t all bad. The main thing was that he was alive. He had to live. He had no choice, because Maria was waiting for him and he didn’t want to disappoint her. In order to reach the Eve in orbit, he’d teach himself how to fly, if that was what it was going to take.
5/20/2082, Triton
Everything was covered in twilight. A distant sun did more to hide the landscape from him than to illuminate it. Instinctively, Nick put his hand up to his helmet to shield his eyes. He’d made it back to the mouth of the cave, where the rover was waiting for him. It was good timing, since there was only enough oxygen for 90 minutes. He would have liked to be sitting in the rover’s driver seat already, letting the machine rock him comfortably as it made its way to the Triton base. There had to be a direct route. Otherwise the Russians wouldn’t have been able to come here with the rover. That was assuming, of course, that they’d left from the station. But surely they’d had an assignment to look after things there, just like he did.
Perhaps after that they had searched for the alien structure, which they must have located from their orbit. It could have been possible with gravity measurements. The artifact certainly had a different density than the ice surrounding it. Then what had happened? The memory stick would surely tell the tale. He had to find Oscar as soon as possible.
Where had the rover gone? It should have been right there, at the end of the ramp, but there was no mistaking it—it wasn’t there. On the display inside the helmet, the exact position of where the rover was supposed to be was superimposed over what was really there. He ran down the ramp, stumbling and slipping as he struggled to get there. The tracks of the rover were there, clearly visible. They led to the east.
Nick was breathing hard. Had it moved on its own, or had somebody driven it away, without him in it? He followed the tracks. They led around a hill, and there it was. The rover’s crane arm was lifting and carrying Triton ice to the oxygen generator.
Nick ran to catch up with it. He’d have to be fast or else it could drive off again without him. The rover was his last connection to civilization. With one huge leap he did a racing dive onto the vehicle and landed in the radio antenna, a large, upward-facing dish mounted on the loading platform. The rover wobbled a little, but all he heard was the sound of his own breathing.
“Hello, Nick. That’s quite an entrance.” It was Oscar.
&nbs
p; He felt instant relief and collapsed in the dish. “I... that was not cool, driving the rover away,” he managed. “I almost died of fright.”
“Back here, it can gather ice more efficiently. I assumed it would be clear that I was the only one who could have moved the rover away. There’s no one here but us.”
“You’re wrong. I met three Russian cosmonauts.”
“Why didn’t you bring them? They could certainly answer some of our questions.”
“They were too heavy for me.”
“Too heavy?”
“They’re dead, Oscar. All three. They can’t give us any answers anymore.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. They had a rover and a landing module, both of which had enough resources for them to survive here for several years.”
“They killed each other. That is, one killed the other two and then killed himself.”
“That really doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do that? Did their survival instincts fail?”
Nick reached into the tool bag where he had stashed the memory chip. He found a screwdriver and a pair of pliers, a pen, a wire cutter, and duct tape, but no chip. Damn. I couldn’t have lost it. Aha, there it is! He held the stick up high in triumph.
“This might answer a few questions,” he said.
“What’s this?”
“The Russian who killed the others was holding this memory stick in his hand. It should fit in your slot.”
“Then come down and we’ll try it.”
“I can’t. I’m too tired.”
“Then rest.”
“Yes, just for a moment, Oscar.”
He was so tired. But it was too early to sleep. He’d have to top up with oxygen in one hour at the latest. He moved his arms and legs. The pain was just barely tolerable. When he was tired enough, the body didn’t seem to transmit pain to the brain as it usually did. Or his mind just stopped processing the stimuli.
A steel hand loomed in his line of sight. He hesitated at first, then pressed the stick into Oscar’s fingers. If the chip were to fall, he’d just have to pick it up again. The technology was high-tech enough. The hand retracted.
“Interesting,” said Oscar.
“What?”
“The stick fits.”
“Ah, but wasn’t that obvious?”
“No, RB itself developed the industry standard and officially released it just three years ago. Which was after our predecessors had left for their trip here.”
“Then they must have had the beta version from a lab.”
“My point exactly. The man who had the stick must have been a senior researcher. It doesn’t make sense that they sent such a well-paid man on a trip for four years. Honestly, you only send people on an adventure like this if you’d be better off without them.”
“Ahem, Oscar. What are you saying about me?”
“Humanity could do without you. You had no job, no family, no future. You were the ideal candidate.”
“Thanks. But what about the contents of the stick?”
“I’m still decoding it.”
“How long will that take?”
“I expect about eight hours.”
“What? Shouldn’t we head out for the station, then?”
“No, Nick. I need all the energy that the rover can deliver to me. Otherwise it will take even longer.”
“I need some of the energy, too. To make oxygen.”
“I already took that into consideration, Nick. The reservoir should be almost full. You only need to hook up your tank for a short time.”
“Did you find out anything about the station?”
“No, I came to you directly. I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to manage on your own. People are pretty fragile.”
“I think people are very tough. And how did you find me?”
“I found a way to contact the ship.”
“Can we communicate with Earth again?” That would be wonderful. He’d love to get another message from Rosie. And even better, tell her that he was still alive. She was undoubtedly worried.
“Unfortunately, no. I drew patterns on the ice that the ship can detect optically from above.”
“And how did the ship respond?”
“It fired rhythmically with the DFDs. I could see that from below.”
“Ship control seems pretty clever. Could it do that before?”
“No, I programmed it to do that. It’s exciting to shape something based on yourself as a model. I know why you’ve changed so much since you found out you were going to be a father.”
“It’s nice that you understand.”
“I agree. The ship informed me that it saw a rover moving erratically towards an ice wall. It could only be you.”
“Come on. No smart remarks about my driving.”
“The ship discovered something else from orbit. You’ll really appreciate it. There’s a landing module parked in the middle of the ice about 80 kilometers away from the Triton station. From above, it seems to be functional, at least as far as it’s possible to tell from such a distance. I didn’t see the images myself, but our communication channel’s transmission capacity isn’t adequate for that.”
“That really is great news. We’ve absolutely got to take a look. It’s probably where the three Russians landed. And where’s the ship that transported them from Earth? It must be in orbit somewhere around here.”
“There was such a ship.”
“Please explain.”
“The Eve found a wreckage site about three hundred kilometers from the station.”
“You mean the station shot down the Russians’ ship when they were already on their way to the moon in their landing capsule?”
“That’s what it looks like, Nick.”
“But then why did it spare our ship and shoot down our capsule? We could have died.”
“Me, no. You, yes. I think it was intentional. The process of getting the orbiting ship out of the way and sparing the cosmonauts probably didn’t give the station the results it wanted. That’s why it changed the approach the second time around. It’s what I would have done.”
“You would have shot me down?”
“I would have adapted my strategy to my requirements. Apparently you have to shoot people to make them harmless. Blocking their way home was not enough, at least in the case of our predecessors.”
“But why did the station need for us to be harmless?”
“I don’t know, Nick. But I’m sure it has its reasons. We urgently need to speak with it. It’s probably for the same reasons that made the cosmonauts kill each other.”
“The aliens, then.”
“I beg your pardon? It seems you’ve withheld some important information.” Oscar wagged his finger back and forth.
Nick described what he’d encountered at the end of the cave.
“I agree with your diagnosis,” Oscar finally said. “This wall of metal is certainly not of human origin. The object it’s enclosing is too big. The RB Group could not have possibly brought it here secretly.”
“Glad you agree with me.”
“I’ve found that you respond positively when I do.”
5/21/2082, Triton
Nick’s stomach was growling. He hadn’t eaten since the night before in the tent. They could have started making their way to the station long ago, but instead they had to wait until Oscar finished decoding the chip, so they were just aimlessly sitting around.
“Oh, you’re awake?” Oscar asks.
“I can’t sleep, because I’m hungry.”
“But you haven’t used up your liquid supply yet?”
“No, I have enough water left. Were you able to figure out what the dead guy loaded onto the memory stick?”
“Of course. I completed the decryption half an hour ago.”
“And why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want to wake you, Nick.”
“I would have preferred to have been woken up. But since we’ve got that
cleared up—what’s on the stick?”
“Right away.”
Oscar retracted his arm. Nick leaned over the edge of the antenna. It looked like the robot was scratching his belly button.
“One moment,” said Oscar. He jiggled the memory stick, then pulled it out and put it back in again.
“The contacts are a bit corroded,” he explained. “Ah, now I see something. That is interesting. Too bad we don’t have a screen so you could take a look.”
“Then you’ll just have to describe the contents to me.”
“Your brain works so slowly when you have to receive input via audio. If we’re going to keep traveling together for a while, I’d like to give you direct access.”
“No thanks. Now, tell me—what did the Russian leave for us?”
“It’s a kind of diary. Should I read it out in order, or excerpt the most important facts?”
“Chronologically.”
Oscar sighed.
Nick sighed. Now the robot was starting to imitate his habits.
2/19/2080, Triton
Vitali saw the Otlitschny fall from the sky. He had it on the screen while I was reclining in my seat with my eyes closed, trying to think of Masha. I still remember his exact words. “Someone has shot our ship down.” I didn’t believe him. Oleg laughed at the joke just like he always laughs at everything, whether it’s funny, sad, bizarre, or disgusting.
But then Vitali showed us the log and we realized that what he’d said was true. It was as if the hand of God had reached out and cut the Otlitschny into two, three, four, five pieces. There was a fiery bolt that had come out of nowhere, and all the connections were severed.
The Triton Disaster: Hard Science Fiction Page 19
