The Triton Disaster: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q Morris

  “Then you won’t be able to spend the night in it.”

  “That’s not really a problem for me,” Nick said. “I can’t get a decent night’s sleep in it anyway.”

  “Arrgghhh!” Nick screamed at the top of his lungs, pushing the sack into the pool with the pole.

  The idea of transporting methane in this way wasn’t half bad. But the bag’s material was lighter than what they wanted to transport. It was like having to push a bag made of bubble wrap underwater. But he could do it. He just had to push hard enough. He filled the sack up slowly.

  Now came the more straightforward part. Though the volume was a total of about 50 liters, he lifted the full bag easily. Back on Earth, it would have weighed less than a toaster. Nick thought of perfectly-browned toast with melted garlic butter.

  “I’m coming,” he shouted.

  “Just dump the contents on the barrier.”

  But it wasn’t that simple. Nick knew that in low gravity, a liquid flow wouldn’t be easy to control. He had to be careful to ensure that the methane didn’t splash his spacesuit. He set the sack at an angle and gave it a kick from below, which drove the contents towards the wall. He then let go of the bag and stepped back quickly. The liquid glistened in the beams of the rover’s headlights. Some of it evaporated on the way, while the rest ran down the barrier to the ground. With all the steam, it was like a laundry room.

  “So, is that enough?”

  Oscar didn’t answer. What’s he waiting for? What’s supposed to happen now?

  The last of the methane reached the ground and the surface of the barrier dried quickly. It already looked like nothing had happened.

  “I’m sorry,” Oscar said. “I was wrong.”

  “What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I assumed the barrier would absorb the liquid.”

  “Because it’s porous?”

  “No, because I thought that perhaps it was a massive cell. The numerous carbon compounds, along with the wall’s structure, indicate that it’s an organism.”

  This thought was both fascinating and frightening. Oscar really was a genius, even if he hadn’t thought his theory all the way through.

  “Maybe you’re right, though,” said Nick. “So far we’ve only proven that the cell’s biochemistry is not based on methane as a solvent.”

  “But in this freezing environment, there’s no point.”

  “Not here, but shouldn’t it be able to transform a planet that’s located in the habitable zone? There’s water there in liquid form.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Nick. We need water, not methane.”

  “There’s water all around us.” Nick pointed to the ice walls around them.

  “But how are we going to get it into a liquid form at minus 183 degrees Celsius?”

  “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” said Nick. “We humans know this all too well.”

  This block of ice is damned massive, he thought. Nick pulled on it and managed to drag it inch by inch. He hadn’t sweated like this for a long time. If only he’d done the math beforehand! Using his laser, Oscar had cut into the wall and removed an ice cube with an edge length of one meter.

  They’d had to search for a long time because it was necessary to have a wall that was open on two sides. But that meant that now he had to drag a bulky chunk of ice that would have weighed a ton on Earth—and still almost 80 kilograms here—for about 200 meters up to the barrier. On Earth, the ice would have slid because it would have melted from the pressure, just like the ice melts beneath the blade of an ice skate, but it was too cold for that here.

  The robot couldn’t help him, and the side corridor was too narrow for the rover. Nick felt like he was hauling a block of ice through loose desert sand. At least it wasn’t thawing out. That was the one advantage.

  “Oscar?”

  “At your service.”

  “Please, just half the edge length for the second block.”

  “That is the conclusion I’ve already come to, based on how much you struggled with the first one.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “Thanks, Nick.”

  The next ice block fell to the ground in slow motion. With an edge length of 50 centimeters, it weighed only about 10 kilograms on Triton. Nick still pulled his boot aside so he wouldn’t get hurt. He instinctively expected a clanking noise, but the transparent cube hit the ground, which was also made of ice, in sheer silence.

  He lifted the object. That way, it would be easier to transport the ice, though Oscar would now have to cut more cubes. The block didn’t survive the fall entirely unscathed. There was a crack running around the lower corner on the left, but that wouldn’t pose any problems for them. Nick carried the block of ice to the barrier and stacked it on top of the one-meter giant.

  “You’ve built a nice wall there,” said Oscar.

  “Yeah, even when I was a kid I liked playing with blocks.”

  “What about fire?”

  Nick lifted the sack of liquid methane and tapped on it. “That was my particular passion.”

  “Good. When I give you the signal, press the sack together.”

  He took the sack of ice-cold methane in his arms. The spacesuit protected him from the cold, but it wouldn’t be able to do that forever. Oscar positioned the hose that led from the rover’s oxygen supply up to Nick’s ice wall. Now everything would have to go very fast.

  “Tap on,” Oscar warned.

  Now there was pure oxygen flowing out of the hose. If they were less than fortunate, it would mix with the low amount of methane to form an explosive mixture in the thin atmosphere. They didn’t have data about what mixing ratios were dangerous under the extreme conditions. So what they needed was luck.

  “Now,” said Oscar.

  He compressed the sack. From the opening at the top, liquid methane was injected directly into the oxygen flow. Oscar reached in and snapped his fingers. A bluish flame appeared. It was working! Nick held the primitive flamethrower against the wall of ice. Its flame could heat up to a temperature of 2,860 degrees. It burned quickly into the ice, which melted like butter and then ran down the barrier.

  Before long, Nick found himself standing in a shallow puddle, which eventually became a small lake. He needed to concentrate. If he squeezed out too much methane, it could emerge from the sack burning and damage his gloves. If he didn’t press hard enough, the flame would go out and they’d have to start all over again.

  The slope in front of the barrier filled with water, which froze quickly because of the low temperature. Why didn’t the wall react? If he waited too long, his feet would freeze into the ice block that was forming on the ground. Nick waved the flamethrower. All that was left now was the first ice block, the one that was a cubic meter. It was a nice idea to think of the alien structure as a giant cell, but it seemed likely that Oscar had been just a little too imaginative.

  “It’s not working,” Nick said.

  “One more moment, please.”

  If that’s what Oscar wanted, he’d oblige him. They had almost all the time in the world, since Valya wouldn’t let them leave if they didn’t get past the barrier. And his daughter would grow up fatherless.

  Nick suddenly fell. He looked down at himself, startled. No, he was still standing, even if he was attempting to regain his balance with his arms. But the ground had moved down and the top of the structure seemed further away. The passageway seemed to have swollen. How is that possible?

  The flame blew out in the breeze. He dropped the methane sack. The barrier had moved, and it was still changing. There was a round hole growing in it that tapered back into the depths. At first, the shape reminded him of a worm. But it was a worm that was growing. It was already broader than he was. It was a huge mouth that swallowed everything in front of it. On its walls he detected rings that were moving against one another. Were those muscles?

  The robot was already rolling his way inside. Or was he pulling something? Nick hesitated
. He didn’t want to be devoured by an unknown organism. Mouth or anus, the structure was organic. Had Oscar been right? Was it a kind of cell? He shouldn’t be resisting—this is what they had wanted, after all. An entrance. The barrier was a membrane, and they’d fed it first with methane and then with water. And it had reacted.

  He had to follow Oscar, but his boots were stuck in the ice. The rover slipped past him towards the hole, Its wheels were locked, but the ground was too steep. Nick was unable to lift his legs. The hole was starting to get smaller. Ten seconds more and he’d be alone out here, frozen in the ice. The back of the rover came within reach.

  He grasped for a rail and simultaneously let himself fall forward. This was his last chance. The weight of the rover tugged at his body. He was stretched taut, and he felt a stinging pain in his back. The ice around his boots gave way and the rover continued forwards, with Nick in tow. They disappeared into the hole. Nick didn’t let go of the rover, even though his shoulder was practically dislocated.

  The downward incline became even steeper, and Nick’s body was pitched forward. His head hit the back of the rover, and the world around him went dark.

  5/25/2082, Triton

  His leg kicked forward, though he had not commanded it to do so. Nick opened his eyes. The robot was knocking on his knees.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. His mouth was dry. He sucked some salty-tasting water from the straw. The suit apparently wanted to replenish his electrolytes. He would rather have had water that tasted like nothing.

  “I’m testing your reflexes. Nice to have you back. I was worried.”

  “Where are we?”

  “I knew you would ask that. It’s such a cliché. Something happens to the hero, and then he opens his eyes and the first question he asks relates to his whereabouts. I evaluated this statistically for a thousand works of world literature. In two-thirds, this question is asked at least once.”

  “That said, an answer would be nice.”

  “You already know. Or has your memory been impaired?”

  “We doused the barrier in water and then it opened.”

  “Exactly. Any more questions? Otherwise we can start exploring our surroundings. I didn’t get the chance because I was playing nanny.”

  “It must have been boring when you were analyzing that world literature.”

  “It wasn’t easy. There’s so much new data around us.”

  “And you had to deal with me, and you’ve known me for a long time.”

  “Don’t mention it. I didn’t mind doing it. But now—”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Nick got up. This worked amazingly well. It was like he hadn’t even gotten hurt. He even felt a bit refreshed from the rest. The rover’s headlights were off and the light on his helmet was dark, yet he could still see Oscar clearly. There was light shining from everywhere and nowhere, as if it were a property of the space itself. When he moved his hands, there were delicate swirls that formed in the air. He looked at the universal instrument on his arm. The air pressure was at about 80 percent of the value on Earth.

  “The walls are glowing,” he said.

  “It’s not just the walls, but the air around us,” Oscar corrected. “It’s a form of bioluminescence that’s maintained by the cell’s electric field.”

  “An electric field?”

  “Yes, a static field. I suspect that the individual organs of the cell derive their energy from it.”

  “The barrier, too?” How a thick metal wall could suddenly open was still a mystery to him.

  “I had already discovered that the wall’s structure was very porous,” said Oscar. “The individual components don’t cling to each other as tightly as they do with real steel. Therefore, the whole barrier can change its shape more easily. And did you see the muscles in the opening?”

  Nick remembered the moving rings. They had opened the barrier so wide that the cell had been able to swallow substances from the outside. “But that must very energy-intensive,” he said.

  “That’s why it took the barrier so long. The cell waited until it was worthwhile. But you’re right, it must be capable of building potent fields.”

  “Fields used to destroy unwanted intruders?”

  “I’ve already thought of that,” Oscar said, swinging his arm. “We ought to be careful so that we’re not classified as intruders. For this reason we should leave the rover. It’s too conspicuous.”

  “But how did the cell notice all the water on its barrier?”

  “It doesn’t need cameras, because it has chemical senses. When the inside and outside concentrations are different, osmotic pressure builds up.”

  “That’s enough, Oscar. Thank you. I never wanted to study chemistry.”

  “You humans are bizarre. I would be happy to get any additional information.”

  They had plunged into a strange world. With every step and every movement, there were streaks that would emerge, clearly visible and reminiscent of the clouds that human mouths exhale when the air is cold. The cell’s interior was about as dark as the surface of the earth beneath a full moon. Nick turned on his helmet’s headlamp only to turn it back off again because he saw even less with it. The medium surrounding him seemed to absorb and process light to then radiate it anew.

  “Do that again,” said Oscar.

  Nick stopped and turned on the light. A white wall appeared around him, as if he were in thick fog. He moved his arm and the mist cleared, but only for a moment.

  “That’s fascinating,” observed Oscar. “The light draws the organic molecules around you. The air pressure near you goes up by as much as twenty percent.”

  “Does this help us?” Nick asked.

  “I don’t think so. It only confirms that we’re inside a living system. It’s a shame that biochemistry is so different here than it is on Earth.”

  “Then let’s keep going.”

  Nick turned off the helmet light again. He felt like a diver at the bottom of a deep lake. Even the air seemed to offer some resistance, but it may have been a misperception. The path led slightly upwards. The walls and the ceiling receded, and after ten minutes he didn’t even see the top anymore. He shone his headlamp upwards but couldn’t see anything.

  “The room is about five meters high,” Oscar explained. “That is what my radar indicated, anyway. But I’m not sure because there are several transitional layers.”

  “The room could be even higher?”

  “It may be that the air is so dense up there that my radar detects a solid boundary.”

  “Gravity points clearly downwards, so shouldn’t the density be higher the lower you go?”

  “Not when the molecules are actively moving. In a department store, the density of people is not the highest in the basement, but where the best offers are located.”

  A strange tower rose up before them, made up of irregularly-shaped objects that looked like spheres squeezed together. They didn’t glow in a uniform white like the walls they had seen earlier, but rather in shades of red. Nick estimated that each one was about half a meter high. He couldn’t say how tall the tower was because the top disappeared into the mist above. The closer they got, the slipperier and wetter the ground became. The strange tower appeared to be emitting heat. But how could it not collapse? The objects were superimposed one over the other in such a way that the tower couldn’t be balanced.

  Nick stopped. If the tower were to suddenly crumble, it wouldn’t hurt to be at a safe distance.

  Oscar rolled onward.

  “Be careful. It doesn’t look very stable,” warned Nick.

  “It’s okay. I just want to check something.” Oscar extended his arm and felt the bottom sphere from the side and the top. “It actually produces heat,” he said. “And on the top there’s a coating that holds the next sphere firmly in place.”

  “Something like glue?”

  “More like Velcro.”

  “So what is this thing for?”

  “I’m detectin
g a draft,” Oscar said. “My guess is that the spheres digest molecules from the air in order to heat the cell.”

  “As long as they don’t digest us.”

  Nick went around the tower and Oscar caught up with him. The medium they were passing through seemed to be getting increasingly more dense. “We’ll be reaching the nucleus soon,” said Nick.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The air pressure keeps going up.”

  “No, look. It’s been constant from the start.”

  “But it feels that way when I move.”

  “Just stay still for a moment.” Oscar’s arm bent towards him and the hand slid into his armpit.

  “Careful, I’m ticklish,” Nick said.

  “Interesting,” said Oscar. “There’s a layer of molecules on your joints. They interfere with your walking. Can I scratch it?”

  “Go ahead.”

  He raised his right arm and Oscar’s fingers scratched at the material of the spacesuit. Nick laughed. Oscar’s fingers even tickled him through the suit.

  Oscar retracted his arm. “I’ll take a quick look at what I scraped off you.”

  “Okay.” Even though it was just the outside of the spacesuit, it was a strange feeling, as if Oscar were examining lint from his belly button.

  “So,” the robot soon began, “once again, what I’ve found is fascinating. The compound that is settling on your spacesuit has taken out matter from the suit. As the molecules grow, it has diminished the strength of your spacesuit’s fabric. There’s no need to worry right now, since it’s just a few micrometers.”

  “What do you mean by ‘right now?’ So this stuff is digesting me?”

  “Yes, the process is similar to digestion. But I’m not certain if the organism can do anything with our raw material. It could also be a gentle way of disposing of waste.”

  “Gentle? It’s eating me alive.”