Martin looked around in the program memory, knowing that was where the parameters necessary for a successful coupling maneuver would be stored. He asked Valentina for some Russian search terms. There it was—the file defining the most significant constants. The only problem was he did not know the values necessary for ILSE. If they did not update these numbers, the Semlya capsule would ram ILSE. He explained the problem to Valentina.
“We could always switch to manual control,” she suggested. A reassuring answer—until he remembered that a few days ago a second ship had been launched that was transporting the laser and the fusion reactor to ILSE. The spaceship was unmanned, so a manual control for them was out of the question. They needed a plan, as soon as possible.
“I could ask a friend at NASA for the values,” Amy offered, after Martin explained the issue to the others.
“With a radio message from Semlya? Not a good idea,” Francesca replied.
“We could contact Shostakovich and ask him to send the message from an inconspicuous email address.”
“We could radio my father,” Martin said. “But he only expects to be contacted by ILSE. It would be too risky.”
Jiaying shook her head. “If I contact Chinese friends it would be much too conspicuous.”
“Well, then we have to go through Shostakovich,” Martin said. “I will describe the problem to him.”
January 14, 2049, (1566) Icarus
On this day the ship received the name Icarus. Until now, the automated mining spacecraft had only been designated by a letter combination, but Marchenko thought this too impersonal. A ship deserved a proper name, even if it was just a remodeled Semlya capsule with some external telemanipulators, drills, and grippers. It was obvious the RB Group was trying to cut costs, and instead of a pressurized cabin, the capsule only had a considerably enlarged cargo bay. Technically speaking, Marchenko was not even on board, but inside the outer shell, where the computers were located behind a radiation shield.
Even though Icarus had been hitching a ride through space on this asteroid for years, it was still in very good shape—too good, actually. Marchenko found out it was so well anchored to the surface that all of his attempts to separate from the asteroid failed. What a great plan by Shostakovich! After Icarus landed on the surface of the asteroid during its last close approach to Earth, two grippers dug deep into existing fissures. This was a self-locking attachment, because the closer 1566 Icarus approached to the sun, the warmer it became. The material expanded, the fissures closed, and the ship was anchored and could now do its work, which consisted of mining rare minerals. When the asteroid moved away from the sun it cooled down. Then the rock shrank and the fissures opened up again. Just in time for the next approach to Earth, the freighter was free again, allowing it to launch and make a short flight to deliver its cargo to its owner.
Unfortunately, Marchenko did not have that much time. Today, he would have to detach Icarus from the asteroid and start flying toward ILSE. Martin had already informed him about the problem with the automatic coupling procedure, but he could easily control Icarus manually. The main thing was to get started as soon as possible.
What were his options? The grippers—the ends of which were stuck in the fissures—did not react when he activated their motors. To be more precise, Marchenko could make the left one vibrate—this might lead to success at some point, but the right one did not budge one millimeter. The ship was shackled to a giant rock with both arms.
How could it free itself? Marchenko had to sever the arms that were preventing its launch, but these were made of high-tensile steel and designed to withstand almost any stress. The power and wavelength of the mining laser that processed the rock were optimized for silicon dioxide, the basic material of the asteroid.
Marchenko ran some calculations. Cutting the grippers with the mining laser would take about two weeks, and that was too long. But... if he started the main engine at the right moment, the grippers might not be able to withstand its thrust if they had been sufficiently weakened laser cuts.
Marchenko had qualms about this solution, but he could not think of a better one. There was this problem: If only one of the grippers separated, or if they did not break free at the same moment, the engine thrust would make the ship tumble. Then a collision with the asteroid could occur. He could improve his chances by giving the laser more time to cut, as that would weaken the grippers more. However, this would increase the risk for the entire expedition.
Stay calm, Marchenko. You survived when the odds were much worse. Sometime he was going to look at all the moments in which fate had almost defeated him. If he added them up, the likelihood of him still being alive might approach zero. Yet he was still here. He ordered the mining laser to start destroying the grippers. Three days. That was the limit he gave himself. Then the launch had to take place.
January 15, 2049, Semlya
“I have the parameters for you,” Shostakovich said.
“Very good,” Amy replied. “Neumaier will feed them into the system.”
Martin was a bit surprised when Amy mentioned his name.
There was a short delay caused by the increasing signal transit time. It was slightly less than a second, but one immediately had the feeling the other party was far away.
“I have to apologize for this part of the plan,” their sponsor said. Something in his voice indicated that there was more to come. Amy seemed to have noticed it as well.
“Yes?” she asked.
“There is another minor problem,” Shostakovich began. “We cannot use an over-the-air update to send the parameters to the freighter transporting the laser. We used a protection mechanism, you have to understand, because hackers once manipulated one of our freighters. Wireless technology had become so cheap. Back then, we had to pay a few Bitcoins to regain control of our ship.”
Martin shook his head. So you paid a few hundred thousand Euros, he thought. Those hackers were very clever. But why didn’t Shostakovich think of this before the launch? The plans of this businessman apparently aren’t quite so perfect.
“What does this mean for us?”
“It is not enough to send a radio signal to the freighter. Someone has to go on board, plug into the computer, and change the data.”
“Someone?” asked Amy.
“You people are the only ones nearby.”
“But the freighter has a lead of almost a week.”
“That is indeed a problem. We have run the calculations and Semlya’s engines would not be sufficient.”
“So, did you find a solution for this problem, or do we have to cancel everything?” Amy raised her voice noticeably.
“There is a solution. You will use the moon to gain more momentum,” the Russian billionaire replied.
The classic method, Martin thought. That was how Apollo 13 made it back to Earth.
“Just like Apollo 13,” Amy said.
“I am not so well versed in the history of American space exploration, but if you say so.”
“Is there already a detailed plan?”
“Yes, we determined when the engines need to be activated and so on.” Shostakovich’s voice did not express the prior self-assurance.
“But that’s not all, is it?”
“Well, the schedule does get a bit tighter.”
“Don’t speak in riddles,” Amy said.
“You will arrive significantly earlier at the rendezvous point with ILSE. If Marchenko should be late, you will zoom past it.”
“Couldn’t we decelerate again?”
“If the engines were sufficient to decelerate, you would not need the moon for acceleration. The next celestial body that could be used for a swing by is Mars, but that is much too far away. Before that time you would suffocate or freeze.”
Amy did not reply immediately. Then she said, “Well. Then Marchenko just has to be punctual. He will manage it.”
January 16, 2049, Semlya
“Could we somehow deactivate the record
ing?”
Martin read the sentence Francesca had written and then looked up at her. Of course everything they said on board was being recorded, so Martin and Francesca had found an alternative, silent method to privately communicate.
He shook his head. “Only with the help of Valentina,” he wrote below it. “Do we trust her?”
Francesca took the sheet of paper and wrote, “Until proven otherwise.”
Martin smiled and gave the universal OK sign. He took the sheet, turned it around, and wrote something on it. Then he went to the porthole, where Valentina watched as Earth gradually shrank behind them. This evening they would be able to see the moon in full detail when the Semlya approached as close to its surface as 100 kilometers during the swing by. Since there was no atmosphere, there would not be any risk to the crew from friction-induced heat.
“Please help me deactivate the recording system,” was written on the piece of paper. Valentina read it and looked at him in astonishment.
“Khorosho,” Martin read her silent lips saying. “Good.” He followed her to the computer and watched what she typed. It could not hurt to know, in case he had to repeat it without her.
“Done,” she finally said. “Now I am curious what this is all about.”
Francesca rose from her couch.
“Are we absolutely sure no one can listen in anymore… not even your own father?”
The young woman nodded so vigorously that her hair fell over her forehead. “I promise,” she said.
“You might remember our visit to Shostakovich’s genetics lab,” Francesca said.
Martin scratched his nose. What an interesting development!
“Well, I used the opportunity to swipe a few samples. I don’t know what the hell came over me. I smuggled them out in Marchenko’s suitcase and handed them to Hayato.”
“He didn’t mention this to me,” Amy interjected.
“I asked him not to. I did not want to put unnecessary stress on you.”
“Please don’t ever do that again,” Amy said sharply.
Francesca sighed. “Okay,” she said, “Hayato had the sample analyzed and just sent me an encrypted file, via Marchenko, that contains the results.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Martin said.
“There is one peculiar fact that shouldn’t exist, at least not in any registered lab worldwide. The samples contained a mixture of human and animal genetic material. Shostakovich apparently tries to transfer human qualities to animals.”
“Or vice versa,” Jiaying said. Francesca nodded. Everyone looked at Valentina, whose face reddened.
“I... did not know,” she said. “You have to believe me. Maybe it is something completely different. Could the samples have been rejected because they were contaminated? Maybe that is why no one noticed you swiped some of them.”
“Hayato’s acquaintance considered a possible contamination,” Francesca said. “However, some DNA segments definitely contained fragments of human genetic information. The main part was animal DNA.”
“From which animal?” asked Amy.
“It’s hard to say, since the person who tested it couldn’t run extensive comparisons. It seems certain that it was a species of mammal.”
“An interesting and important piece of information,” the commander said. “Very clever, Francesca, even though I generally dislike such sneaky actions. But what are we going to do about it? Should we confront Shostakovich? What do you think, Valentina?”
The person at whom the question was aimed looked really unhappy. Martin had believed her when she denied knowing about her father’s research project.
“I do not think it would help to confront him with it. He would just deny everything,” Valentina said, her head bowed.
“And be more cautious in the future,” Jiaying added.
“Then we should at least take this as a warning that our business partner is not as open with us as he pretends,” Amy said.
“He is not a bad person,” Valentina said. “Maybe he just thought this part of his work was none of our business. After all, this is about genetic engineering.”
“Could be,” Amy answered, but Martin saw by her frown that she did not really think so.
January 17, 2049, Semlya
They had been falling toward the moon since shortly after midnight, and once again the porthole was off limits to Martin. He tried once to look through the pane, but he immediately felt a dizzy, sickening sensation as if he was hanging upside down from the ceiling.
Add to this the sour taste of stale air and it did not matter that the view was so impressive. The moon appeared huge—the lunar surface covered the entire field of view—and they were in a mere chunk of metal that soon, it seemed, would crash into the rocks below them and form a crater.
Of course, this was not the actual plan. Their trajectory was calculated to let them race across the surface at a height of several hundred kilometers, without getting too close to it. They were going to use the gravitational field of the moon like a sling to accelerate them into the depths of space, where the freighter was approaching its rendezvous point with ILSE.
In a few hours they would reach the ‘point of no return.’ This crucial juncture would be reached when they were on the other side of the moon. Whatever they did after that point could not save them—the crew would be flung into the solar system. The maneuver resembled the exact moment in shot put when the athlete let go of the shot.
For the moment, the crew would now see the Earthrise. Francesca was the first one to see the blue sliver of their home planet rising above the gray lunar plains. Martin heard their exuberant cheers. This would be their last chance in a long time to see the Earth in all its beauty. He firmly decided to control himself. If he worked hard, nausea would not stand a chance. Slowly he took the few steps to the other side of the capsule interior, where the porthole was located. Francesca and Amy made way for him. Jiaying came from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder. For the first time, Martin realized he was surrounded by women. That’s somehow typical, he thought. And then he saw the Earth.
Now he understood why Francesca cheered—his and his crewmates’ home was the most beautiful object in the universe. It was not enough to just call it ‘the blue planet,’ since Neptune was even bluer. No, it was a dazzling sapphire, the most gorgeous gem in the queen of the solar system’s opulent necklace. The mighty sun should be glad to own this precious jewel. Just this view alone had made their journey worthwhile, and Martin was definitely glad he had not missed it.
“Thanks, Jiaying,” he whispered into his girlfriend’s ear, garnering him a wide smile. Martin sometimes thought a sage old mage had transformed into this attractive woman in order to teach him something about life. If so, he was very grateful for it.
After dozing a few minutes on his couch, Martin was awakened by a countdown. He glanced through the porthole and could no longer see Earth, just the blackness of space.
“It is time,” Amy said calmly. “You have three minutes left to think it over. If only one of you does not want to start this journey, I will cancel the countdown and we will go back. No one will be criticized. To make sure you are completely acting of your own free will, I will walk around and stand close in front of you. This way, I will be the only one who can see your face. If you want to return, blink four times in quick sequence, and that will be enough. The others will never find out who wanted to cancel the mission.”
Amy got up and walked toward Valentina, and Martin could only see Amy’s back. Fifteen seconds later, the commander stepped over to Francesca. When she turned away, Martin briefly saw her face, but it did not reveal anything to him. Then it was Jiaying’s turn, and soon afterward Amy stood in front of him. He gazed deep into her eyes and understood why Hayato was so attracted to Amy. While Martin discovered a wise person in Jiaying, Amy was like a caring mother. Martin focused on not blinking, and then she went back to her couch. She lay down and attached her safety belt, but did not say anything.
The countdown continued, but nothing happened. The five astronauts were breathing calmly, and the air quality seemed to have improved. The countdown reached zero. There was no command, and everything went according to the original plan. Luna, the shot putter, launched them into the freedom of space, much faster than their own engines permitted.
January 17, 2049, (1566) Icarus
Outside a battle over life and death raged, but in here nothing could be heard or seen. Could the mining laser cut the two grippers deeply enough so that the force of the main engine would do the rest? Marchenko had kept the laser running almost non-stop during the past 72 hours. Normally, a work cycle lasted only twelve hours, because the mined material also had to be processed.
And then the coolant circuit failed. Since there is no air for cooling in space, liquid nitrogen normally flowed around the laser module. When the system indicated a failure after 28 hours of operation, Marchenko briefly became desperate, but then he remembered his experiences with Russian space technology. It might not be up to the latest standards, but it worked under all circumstances. If there was no coolant, he would have to work without it. From now on he used the laser until it almost overheated and then gave it a short break.
The method worked and the laser was operating almost 90 percent of the time. However he would only find out how much it helped once he started the engine.
Marchenko hesitated. If it did not work, everything would be like before for him—he could return by the same way he had come, but Francesca would no longer be there. Somewhere in icy space the former crew of ILSE would be waiting for a spaceship that was falling into the sun instead of coming to pick them up. Amy’s son would wait in vain for the return of his mother, and Marchenko would be responsible for it—and doubly so, both because they embarked on this journey because of him, and because he ultimately failed them. Amy had sent him an encrypted message an hour ago, saying the swing-by maneuver around the moon had been successful.
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