Why not, then, I thought, apply this to Betelgeuse? My next notion was that what one would seek to detect would be the “noise” associated with deep convective burning shells. This convection represents a “boiling” that could make waves deep within the star that would contain clues to what was going on. In particular, just before the iron core collapses to trigger the explosion, the burning of surrounding oxygen and silicon layers are expected to be especially chaotic and vigorous. If one could detect evidence of that phase, you would know that the explosion was weeks or even only days away. I draw on this notion in the story.
There is an issue that Betelgeuse is surrounded by a large, boiling, hydrogen envelope making it a red supergiant star. One has to be able to “see” through that outer gas bag. The trick, I hoped, was that the time scales from the inner burning would be so short, days, that the outer envelope with motions on the order of years would be basically standing still. Perhaps, amid the long slow variation of the outer layer, one might detect a quick, faint, rattle that would indicate the state of the interior evolution and hence the time until explosion.
I went through a phase when I thought perhaps it is better to look at stars that will explode, but which do not have the confounding outer envelope. Those stars exist; they are known as Wolf-Rayet stars. I did some preliminary thinking about that, but realized the probability of catching any star, Betelgeuse or a Wolf-Rayet star, in the short time just before the explosion is statistically unlikely. I still think one should do asteroseismology of Wolf-Rayet stars.
Meanwhile, back at Betelgeuse, I was lucky to recruit a group of bright, hard working undergraduates to The Betelgeuse Project. Over the last several years, I have had the privilege of working with a young man from Physics who is now studying in Hawaii, a young woman whose mother is Egyptian, a young man from the Rio Grande Valley near the Texas/Mexico border, and summer students from China and Greece. We have been using the stellar evolution code, MESA, which is itself a revolution, an open source code with vast capacity and an active helping community. We have used MESA to compute models of Betelgeuse, including estimates of the characteristic inner convective noise that might be a clue to the internal state of evolution.
Our biggest surprise, however, came when we tried to match the rotational velocity. We could not. There was no combination of internal processes that would leave the outside we can see spinning as rapidly as it is observed to do. Some pondering brought a possible solution. We suggest that Betelgeuse once had a binary companion that was close enough in orbit that it was engulfed when Betelgeuse became a red supergiant. That orbital velocity might very well have provided the angular momentum to spin up the outer envelope. We also speculate that this merger might have led to some of the shells that surround Betelgeuse at a substantial distance. All this, too, is woven into the background of the story.
© The Author 2017
Michael Brotherton (ed.)Science Fiction by ScientistsScience and Fiction10.1007/978-3-319-41102-6_9
Sticks and Stones
Stephanie Osborn1
(1)Huntsville, USA
:::LIVE DOWNLINK COMMENCING:::
International Space Station
Increment 58
Mission Elapsed Time 8 days, 9 hours, 47 minutes
Subject: ESA MS Cosette Pelletier
“…She’s still in the forward head, with explosive diarrhea and cramps,” Mission Specialist Edgar Hodges told the others. Hodges was one of two medically-trained specialists on board, and he was not a little concerned. He had only just arrived on Station the week before, alongside Cosette Pelletier and Alexi Leonov, for the new increment. “Thank God for seat belts on space toilets. She’s nauseated, too, but so far hasn’t thrown up. It isn’t looking good, guys.”
“I agree,” Dr. Clare Sheehy, the other medico aboard — as well as the Science Officer — concurred. Sheehy had been on Station longer than anyone else, at that point; she was the first test subject of an experiment to enable humans to safely make long-duration space flights. Consequently, the others gave her considerable respect — except for Commander Popov, who tended to give no one much respect. This was starting her eighth increment, so her tenure aboard was closing rapidly on two years. “It sure sounds like Cosette has picked up an intestinal bug. She’s been here barely over a week. Someone must have inadvertently broken her pre-mission quarantine, and she brought it up with her, incubating.”
“Zhat is indeed…not good,” a thoughtful Commander Kazimir Popov decided, his English heavily accented by his native Russian. He had been formerly a MiG pilot for the Soviet Union, leaving the military with the rank of colonel…a fact he had not forgotten. And it showed in the way he ran the increment. While friendly enough, if he issued instructions, the rest of the crew discovered quickly that he viewed them as orders. And, while the revamped RosCosmos did not officially recognize military ranks, in practical application it was a different story.
“Not good at all,” Hodges reiterated. “Not only is she becoming dehydrated fast with that much diarrhea, the rest of us risk catching it from her. If more than a couple of us get sick, we’ll be in deep shit — pretty much literally.”
“Chyort,” Popov muttered. “Cannot command if in head.” Sheehy threw him a look of distaste, bordering on revulsion.
“How much danger are the rest of us in?” JAXA mission specialist Riichi Maki wondered. “From contracting it, I mean.” Though a Japanese citizen, his mother was American, and he had been raised bilingual; his English had no accent.
“Depends what it is,” Sheehy decided, pulling her gaze away from scowling at Popov to focus on Maki. “Some of that shit — er, excuse the pun — is actually surprisingly hard to get. Other strains, blink twice and you’re puking.”
“Dr. Sheehy, you are science officer and ranking physician aboard,” Popov addressed the American with officious formality. Sheehy tried not to roll her eyes. “Vhat do you recommend?”
“I hate to say it, but it’s my considered opinion that the wise thing to do is to ship her home right away, where she can be properly treated and before the rest of us have a chance to be infected,” Sheehy declared, then rubbed her knee as if it ached. “Edgar, what do you think?”
“I concur, Clare. But she’ll need someone to nurse her until she gets on the ground. I know you’re still involved in that long-duration spaceflight study, so I’ll ride down with her, then catch the next flight up if they’ll let me bump somebody.”
“Good man, Ed. I’ll put in a word on the ground, try to get you that bump.”
“Thanks, Clare. But I’ll need someone to handle the spacecraft; I expect I’ll have my hands full with Cosette, especially if she adds vomiting in with the diarrhea in the meantime. She’s pretty nauseated, she just hasn’t barfed yet.”
“Ai! You have placed zhe barf bags within her reach in zhe toilet, yes?” Flight Engineer Alexi Leonov, who had been quiet to this point, finally spoke.
“Yeah, I did. And they all have paper towels folded in the bottom to absorb liquids and prevent splatters. The last thing we need is contaminated barf floating around the cabin. We’d never get everything decontaminated.”
“Mm,” Maki hummed to himself. “We’ve gotten behind on that, what with turning over the various increments.”
“We have,” Sheehy agreed. “It might be good to get on that with the rest of ‘em, pretty soon.”
“Yes,” Maki said.
“Do you suppose ve have already been contaminated, from qvarantine wiz her?” Leonov queried.
“Probably not,” Sheehy said, confident. “Generally the person has to be either already blowing chunks — either direction — or right on the verge of doing so, to be contagious.”
“All right. If ve take zhe Soyuz, rather zhan zhe Dragon, I vill ensure you both reach zhe ground safely,” Leonov offered. “I am, as yet, still feeling unsure of my skills in zhe Dragon.”
“I’d rather take the Dragon,” Hodges remarked. “It has more room, it’s a
bit faster, and it has a rudimentary medical capability. I’ll need all of that; I’m going to try to set up one of the new IV pumps on Cosette, to try to replace some of the fluids she’s losing. Otherwise we could have a problem when she hits the re-entry g-forces.”
“Uhm. You have a point.” Leonov pulled a face. “Yes, zhen ve shall take zhe Dragon.”
“Very vell zhen. Alexi, check out Dragon at vonce. Hodges, prepare your patient,” Popov ordered. “I vill call Mission Control in — eh, vherever ve are flying over — and notify zhem of emergency medical evacuation.”
Maki glanced out the viewport near him. “Uh, looks like it’ll be Houston.” He pointed. “Western Hemisphere.”
“Houston, zhen.” Popov nodded. “Now go.”
“Yes sir.” Leonov saluted his superior.
“On it,” Hodges replied.
“Ed, there’s a fresh batch of incontinence briefs in the EVA stowage,” Sheehy said, rubbing her knee again. “I’d recommend helping her get into one of those to, uh, ‘catch things.’ It might be difficult to do, though, if she’s still having the explosive diarrhea; if you need help, yell and I’ll come.”
“Right,” Hodges said, pushing off and heading for the Tranquility module to see to his patient. “I’ll grab some on my way,” he called over his shoulder.
“Thank God for the head in the Zvezda module,” Sheehy muttered in his wake. “The rest of us can still go without dealing with shit everywhere.”
“But, um, the…smell…is still a little rough,” Maki noted, wrinkling his nose.
“No argument there,” Sheehy concurred. Popov snorted in derision as he headed for the Harmony module to call Houston.
The others went back to work.
***
Maki returned to the crystal growth experiment on which he had been working when the emergency crew meeting had been called to discuss Pelletier’s condition. His hands in a negative-pressure glovebox, he carefully drew off some of the growth solution in a pipette, injecting it into the sample container of the auto-titration unit. Then he reached for a container marked, “Phenolphthalein, Aqueous.” The substance was a marker, essential to determine the pH of the solution periodically throughout the experiment, in order to ascertain the precise chemistry of the crystal system as it developed. And the titration unit was equipped with photometric sensors designed to detect the characteristic marker’s color, from pale pink all the way to deep purplish fuchsia.
But to his surprise, the container of reagent was nearly empty.
Chikushō, he thought. What happened to it? That was a new bottle! He quickly checked the experiment log; there was no record of anyone spilling anything. A manuke on the other shift made a mess and did not record it, so he — or she, he considered, realizing that Cosette could have done it as she grew ill — would not get into trouble for the waste. Or maybe she just didn’t have time to record it after she got it cleaned up, if she ended by having to rush to the toilet. He sighed. I will have to notify the Payload Operations Center in Huntsville that we will need extra sent up in the next supply mission. And when I run out, we will have to put the experiment on hold until the supply ship arrives. Damn. They will NOT be happy.
He went to the chemical stowage unit and fetched a fresh, sealed container, easing it through the airlock of the glovebox, then continued work.
***
:::PLAYBACK COMMENCING:::
Houston TX, JSC Astronaut Office, Chief Astronaut’s Office
Pre-Increment 50
T minus 45 days, 17 hours, 56 minutes
Subject: MALTSI
“Congratulations, Dr. Sheehy,” Matthew Rodriguez, Chief Astronaut, told the physician. “The call has been made, and you’ll be the first member of the Mars Long-Term Spaceflight Initiative!”
“Thank you, Matt,” Clare Sheehy smiled at Rodriguez, pleased. “I’m honored to be selected as the first candidate for MALTSI. Does it begin immediately?”
“It does. We already have your baselines, and we’ll be monitoring you throughout the rest of your prep and into launch. You’ll be expected to stay up for about two years, possibly a bit longer, while we evaluate the new hormone protocol. It looks really promising. I have the feeling it will not just slow bone loss. I’m betting that, with a bit of adjusting of the dosages, it’ll eventually prevent it altogether.”
“I’ve been following the studies and trials, and professionally I agree,” Sheehy replied.
“Excellent! Have at it, Clare! You’re going to make us proud,” Rodriguez declared.
***
:::PLAYBACK COMMENCING:::
Star City, Russia, Moscow Oblast
Increment 50
T plus 57 sec
Subject: Launch of First MALTSI Test Subject
“…Telemetry shows Dr. Sheehy’s vitals are nominal for ascent phase,” the flight surgeon determined, carefully watching the numbers that flashed across his computer terminal’s screen.
“And she was in peak condition prior to launch,” the MALTSI mission scientist pointed out over the comm headset from her location in Huntsville, Alabama at the Marshall Space Flight Center.
“True. Once docking and transfer are complete, we are go to begin MALTSI protocols.”
***
:::LIVE DOWNLINK COMMENCING:::
International Space Station
Increment 58
Mission Elapsed Time 8 days, 11 hours, 04 minutes
Subject: Decontamination
After the trio had departed the Station on the medevac mission, decreasing the crew complement by half, a thought had apparently occurred to the commander, and he located Maki.
“Riichi, vill you have zhe good place in zhe experiment, any time soon, to pause for a little vhile?”
“Well, yes, but it will be a few minutes yet. What do you need?”
“It has occurred to me zhat ve most likely vant to get zhe trash stowed in Progress and sealed avay as soon as possible. And zhey should receive hazardous biological vaste labeling, in contrast to usual labeling, so ve do not shift around anymore zhan needed later. But I cannot handle it, as I am still coordinating viz Mission Control in Houston; zhey have brought Pelletier’s physician to ESA’s Columbus Centre Control. Huntsville has also been notified, so zhe replan to experiment timeline, to accommodate zhe reduced crew complement, is in vork.”
“I had rather not, Kazimir, if it can be avoided. I am behind schedule on this experiment as it is, even if they do replan the activity. We’re doing good to get any experiments done at all, with half the crew gone, and I really want to at least finish this run. Plus, I just discovered that Cosette spilled reagent into the glovebox during the initial onset of her intestinal virus, and we will be low on supplies for the experiment. And I shall have to use more experiment supplies to clean the galley of any contamination, unless I am authorized to use the medical supplies for gloves and the like. Cannot Clare do trash duty?”
“Dr. Sheehy INFORMED me zhat she is sanitizing zhe toilet in Tranquility module,” Popov explained, pulling an annoyed face.
“Eh. I take it she was her usual, ah, blunt, self.”
“She vas, indeed. Blunt is understatement. I zhink she does not like me.”
“I’m not sure how much she likes any of us,” Maki admitted, “but then, she’s been up here so long, she’s probably sick of it in general. I wonder…you know, when we first came aboard, last increment, remember how she was always up in the cupola, looking out? Then suddenly she just…stopped. And now she avoids the viewing ports like the plague. She seems…ill-tempered…most of the time now, too. Could it be homesickness?”
“Hm. Zhat is…qvite possible. I vill discuss it vit zhe surgeon at Star City vhen I have next medical conference. He may advise. I do not like insubordinate crew.” Popov gave Maki a stern glance. “But back to business. She is cleaning zhe head. It vill no doubt take some time, and I felt it best not to vait any longer for infection to fester in zhe general vaste. It must be removed at vonce.
”
“Uh. Good point. Okay, give me five and I shall see to it.”
“Excellent. Use vhatever supplies you feel are needed to do zhe job properly, and protect yourself from contamination. If our cantankerous yet excellent Science Officer objects, fear not — your commander shall handle zhe matter.”
***
Maki had completed crew operations on the crystal growth experiment, initiating automated ops. Then he had fetched latex gloves, safety glasses, and a face mask from the medical supplies, donned them, and begun the unpleasant task of gathering the galley waste, choosing to do that first, then check the sleeping berths for trash which might not be there, but which would certainly be more contaminated than the galley waste. In addition, he considered, I probably should look into placing her uniforms into a hazardous waste bag, as well. We do not need to have it migrating around among our own clothing.
Now he studied the trash bin in the galley, considering whether or not to load it into a wet trash container. But that would require venting any outgassing into the waste management system, which could potentially re-contaminate what Sheehy was working so hard to decontaminate now. No, he decided, I’ll double-bag it and seal it, put it in a hazardous waste bin, and that into the Progress, and be done.
Science Fiction by Scientists: An Anthology of Short Stories (Science and Fiction) Page 15