The line clicked as her boss hung up. Suddenly the room felt hot to her, though she hadn’t thought so before. Heather stood up, went over to open the window, and stood there enjoying the fresh air. Absent any miracles to save her she would have to fly to space. Once there she would be breathing air that others had had in their lungs dozens of times already.
She went back to bed. It was 3 a.m. She needed more sleep or she would not make it through the day.
Her phone woke her. The sun lit up the room. It was Callis.
“Weren’t we meeting at nine?” he asked.
She jumped up. Damn. It’s 9:30 already.
“Sorry about that, it must be the jet lag. And my boss who called me in the middle of the night.”
“No problem. I was thinking you might not want to see me anymore.”
Had he just made a pass? She couldn’t be hearing right. “I’m on my way,” she said. “Just a quick shower.”
“I can’t offer breakfast here. But just outside the JPL there is an excellent German bakery on the left.”
“But I am running late already.”
“No rush, please. I know how to keep busy. Go get something at the bakery. Our coffee machine is quite good. If you don’t mind, please bring me a salted pretzel. It’s the only place one can get them.”
“Okay, see you in about an hour then.”
“I look forward to that,” said Callis, and then he hung up.
Heather pulled off her pajamas and hurried over to the bathroom. She managed to shower, dry and dress in under twelve minutes, complete with makeup. She was proud of herself. She left the housekeeper a dollar on the desk and left the room. At the reception desk she extended her stay by a night. She wouldn’t make the flight at noon anyway. A robotaxi was waiting in front of the hotel. She waved and the door opened for her.
“Next,” she said into the car.
“I am very sorry,” answered the car “but this code is only valid between 11 and 3 o’clock. Where may I drive you?”
She provided the address, belted up, and relaxed into the soft seat cushion. She had nearly dropped off to sleep when she remembered the bakery.
“Stop at the German bakery near my destination,” she said.
“New destination confirmed,” answered the car.
An hour and a half later she sat on a camping chair opposite Callis John, a small round table between them. Behind them was a truck-sized rolling gate. She was looking out onto sandy terrain with rusty machines lining the edges.
“This is our Mars yard,” said Callis, “where we test our Mars rovers. I like to hang out here.”
“It is… unusual,” she replied.
Callis laughed. “Yup, not green here, true. But it is nice and quiet. We are right on the edge of the JPL campus.”
He handed her an insulated cup. The scent of hot black coffee wafted up while she took a sip. Callis bit into his pretzel. She saw grains of salt dropping to the ground. Her cake was sitting on the table. She had chosen piece of spice cake with raisins, because the raisins made her think of sunspots. She took a bite—moist and sweet, but not too sweet.
“Did you get a good rest?” her host asked.
“Not sure,” she responded. “I guess it depends on what you will be telling me.”
“Really? Why is that so important?”
“I gave the Frenchman the original data. Nobody could have imagined how that would blow up. He made such a good impression, wrote a nicely phrased email.”
“I would have done that, too. It’s great when the public gets interested in our work.”
“My boss doesn’t see it that way.”
“Then the Frenchman was lucky to have contacted you instead of your boss.”
“One of my colleagues also sent him the same data.”
She was not sure why she was providing him with such detail. It had nothing to do with her assignment. But she wanted him to understand her. It was bad enough that she didn’t understand herself.
“And you took responsibility? That was brave.”
“My colleague isn’t as senior as I am. And I felt sorry for him because he has such an idiot for a partner.” Talking about it this way things felt completely logical and comprehensible.
“You did everything right, Heather.”
She felt better for the praise. “Thank you,” she said. “It would be even nicer to hear that you managed to find artefacts coming from the camera.”
“I have to disappoint you on that. On the images there are so many technical artefacts that it does not prove anything. Do you want to see them?”
Heather dismissed the idea. “I trust you.” She bent forward, supported her head on her arms, and fell silent.
“What’s up, Heather, what is the problem?”
“My boss insists on me finding proof for the artefacts.”
“That is great. I would have never met you otherwise.”
Heather had to smile despite herself. He really was making a pass—her impression on the phone had been correct. She was grateful for it even if she didn’t want to open that box right now.
“That means I need to go sit on a pile of explosives and have myself blasted into space.”
“That is amazing. I envy you. I really do!”
“It is horrible. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”
“I hate to tell you, but the Starfleet operates in space.”
Heather laughed out loud—he had caught on to her Star Trek reference! How crazy was that? The episode was more than 60 years old!
“Star Trek 11,” said Callis.
“I know.”
“Five times,” he offered.
“Seven times, I win!”
“Congratulations!”
She went serious again. “It is really nice to chat with you here, but it looks like I need to get ready for a space flight.” She got up and stood straight as though Scotty would beam her up to the Enterprise in the next second. That would be really nice, as it would save her the rocket episode.
“If I can help you…” Callis stood up as well. He went around his chair and stood directly in front of her. Why did her stomach go into a tight knot, and what made her heart suddenly beat so quickly?
“Great,” she said while taking a step back. “Yes, I could use some help. The probe needs to get to the launch pad somehow.”
“Leave that up to me. It would be perfect if we could start from Vandenberg.”
“We?”
“You, of course. A lapse.” He took a step back now, too. Heather was glad things had relaxed, but she felt a bit sorry, too.
“First and foremost I need to update my boss,” she said.
“Good luck with that. Please wait a moment.”
He entered the storage space behind them and returned to give her his business card.
“Here are all my contacts. Feel free to call me if you need anything at all. That also goes for tonight, if you are bored.”
She didn’t look at him, concentrating on his hands instead. On his left hand she discovered a ring. Something stabbed her heart.
“Is your wife out of town?”
“My wife went missing in the upheaval two years ago.”
Heather bit her tongue. That had been too stupid on her part. Why did she have to go and remind him that way?
“It’s okay,” said Callis. “I only wear the ring for sentimental reasons.”
April 26, 2074, Mercury
Number six. What a stupid job he had gotten himself into. Another 44 receivers to set up, 44 trips back and forth, 44 times twelve hours on the track, only interrupted by twelve hours rest. He knew the route from memory already. He had considered camping out at the destination, but he could not do that to Sobachka. The dog needed to get out of her suit regularly. Base camp under the surface wasn’t huge, but it was sufficient to give her room to tire out. Several days on the rover just to make his life easier, that would not be fair.
But maybe he did not need to carry things
to the bitter end. He had chatted with the technician yesterday. Fortunately, 50 individual receivers was the maximum setup. The improvised radio telescope could be sufficiently sensitive well before that. It sounded like they were trying to verify certain information, but the technician had been very tight-lipped about what exactly that was.
Maybe it had something to do with those odd lines that Frenchman had claimed he discovered on the sun. The online media sources he was receiving here were censored by the RB administration, but by now several large Russian channels had been reporting the so-called discovery. Whatever it might be, it would hardly affect him. Mercury was three times closer to the sun than the Earth, but it was still very far to travel.
He stayed calm for that very reason when base camp informed him about an impending coronal mass ejection, or CME. A huge batch of plasma, mainly hydrogen kernels—protons—and electrons, was moving outward from the corona into space. Mercury would be hit in ten hours.
Artem looked at the sun. It behaved just as always. The star that was responsible for life on Earth ignored him just like it ignored everybody else. CMEs were invisible to the eye and to light-based telescopes. The invisible cloud had a mass of about one billion metric tons. It would engulf Mercury for two or three seconds and be off on its way again. Only the satellites in orbit were in danger—or would have been had RB not been clever enough to protect them against most effects of the solar weather. Maybe the radio link to base camp would be interrupted briefly, but before he would notice that, the CME would already be thousands of kilometers away.
It was a pity that Mercury didn’t have an atmosphere. That would have given a purpose to the CME—he would have been able to admire spectacular polar lights tonight. Well, he would play with Sobachka instead. That was the better evening entertainment anyway. Artem sat down and gripped the wheel. He needed some distraction now. First he hooked up Sobachka with the safety belt, and next he double-checked the receiver on the cargo pad. Then he hit the accelerator, and the rover went speeding ahead through the stony desert.
April 28, 2074, Vandenberg Air Force Base
“I guess it’s a small world!”
She recognized the voice. Heather turned around. The project leader from JPL walked briskly toward her.
“What are you doing here, Callis?”
“Bringing you my baby.” He held something almost hidden in his hands.
She pointed to his hands. “Do you mean that?” she asked.
“No, the probe, of course.” Callis laughed. “Treat it well, as it is the last of its kind.”
Sure. The probe. What was she thinking? The probe would be flying to space in the hold of the rocket that she was going to be entering in a short while. She was on her way to the Ark, the international space station that had circled the Earth since the incident two years earlier. Up there she would get the opportunity to test the probe under proper conditions.
“I promise to take good care of it,” she said.
“Thanks. By the way, why didn’t you get in touch with me the other day? I was hoping for your call.”
Heather felt a wave of embarrassment. Why did Callis have to bring this up now, when she was on the way to the launch?
“I… it seemed inappropriate. You don’t know anything about me. I am just a lowly astronomer and live six flight-hours away from you.” The words just tumbled out. That had not happened to her in a long time.
“No problem,” said Callis. “Here. I wanted to bring you this in person.” He handed her a flat object. It was wrapped in elegant paper with a decorative ribbon looped around it.
“Thank you,” she said. What would he be handing her? His phone number again? She took the package in her left hand.
“Please don’t open it until after the launch,” said Callis, interrupting her thoughts. “See you later.”
“Good bye,” she answered, instantly more than a little angry with herself for such a formal response.
Callis turned around and walked back to the main building. One of her company tapped her shoulder.
“We need to be moving on.”
“Of course, sir.”
They crossed the hot tarmac to the launch pad. Heather looked up. The rocket was surprisingly small, especially in comparison to the huge Mars rockets she had seen on live video. They stopped in front of the elevator that would bring her up to the actual capsule. One of the aides, dressed in a blue coverall, touched her elbow.
“I am very sorry Ms. Marshall, but this object can’t go on board. It hasn’t been through the check.”
“It is a gift from a friend.”
“No exceptions allowed. Please hand it to me or I can’t let you board.”
Heather sighed and quickly untied the ribbon, removing the paper in the process. A flat metal case appeared. She found the catch and flipped the lid to find an expensive card inside. ‘Invitation’ was embossed on the front. She opened the card. Callis was inviting her to a restaurant, three weeks from today—she should certainly be back by then. She didn’t know the restaurant, but the package looked upscale and expensive. She shoved the card inside her overall and handed the rest to the blue suit beside her. He nodded appreciatively and opened the door for her.
Heather had used the diaper for the second time already, but the launch still was not happening. The four of them were laid out like herrings on flat loungers that were slightly elevated on the head end, staring upward in unison. She did not know the other passengers, two women and a man. They seemed to be lay people, as she had been labeled. Maybe medical or technical personnel for the Ark? The horrible incident two years ago certainly had escalated the importance of the space directly surrounding Earth. There were regular shuttles between the Ark and the surface, making both launches and zero-gravity research much more accessible.
How about starting the countdown, finally? Shouldn’t we have been on our way already? Something must be wrong with the rocket, thought Heather. She didn’t trust the recycling concept that most companies were using these days.
“CapCom here,” said a male voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am responsible for your launch until Ark Control takes over your flight. If you have questions, please go ahead.”
“When do we lift off?” asked Heather.
“In exactly sixty seconds, starting… now,” CapCom replied. The loud ticking of the final countdown kicked in and she counted along.
At zero an earthquake started to grumble deep down below her. She closed her eyes. The explosion that would tear them to bits, no, vaporize them, would be upon them in an instant. A slight pressure pushed her onto the lounger. It was not a big deal, much like the feeling she remembered from her father accelerating their car back in the days when one was able to set the speed manually.
“So when are we taking off, CapCom?”
“All is peachy. You are at 300 meters… at 400, 500, and counting.”
“We are flying? And all is going well?”
“Yeah, sure. What were you thinking?”
The man was right. Her fellow passengers probably thought her hysterical. Of course she had been informed that space flight launches with commercial rockets weren’t so exciting anymore, and that real astronauts looked down on so-called vacation rockets. I can’t believe it would be so smooth. Even my standard civilian flight out of Honolulu was more exciting at takeoff.
She relaxed, slowly. Unfortunately she had to pee again. What was wrong with her bladder? The good news was the diapers seemed to be made of some sort of magic substance, very good, because they had another 14 hours until rendezvous with the Ark.
The ceiling of the capsule, where they would be looking for some time to come, had a large screen built in. So far it had been showing the logo of the carrier company. Now it switched to images that seemed to come from a camera in the tip of the rocket. They flew straight into the sky, no clouds to be seen anywhere. The blue was getting darker by the minute. Soon Heather wasn’t able to tell it from black.
“Are we
in space now, CapCom?” asked the man, who was on the lounge next to hers.
“Nearly so. Won’t be long until we cross the ‘Kármán line.’ Then you will be astronauts, officially.”
Heather concentrated on the display. She was expecting to see stars appear. And… Yes, right there! There they are!
“CapCom here. You are now 100 kilometers above ground. Space starts there, according to the official definition. Congratulations!”
Heather silently congratulated herself, too. Maybe it isn’t so bad, after all, that I sent Alain Petit that data, she thought. I’ll have to remember to drop him a note from orbit.
“CapCom again. For your comfort I am darkening the cabin now. The current burn phase will last another 90 minutes.”
The lights came back up. Heather blinked. She had actually been able to sleep. The screen showed pitch black—and the moon. She thought it had come closer, but that couldn’t be.
“CapCom here. Burn phase is ending now. Your vessel will attain orbit at 400 kilometers altitude, take a couple of turns around Earth, and initiate the coupling process with the Ark. I am afraid this may take a while, as all docking ports are full at this time.”
Caught up in a traffic jam, in space of all places, she thought with a wry smile.
Suddenly Heather’s stomach contents rose into her throat. She shut her mouth and swallowed a few times, and she managed to send those horribly sour bits back down. Zero gravity!
“Micro gravitation. You may carefully release the belts now,” said CapCom. “Please watch out for nausea or space sickness.”
Heather quickly released her belts as though zero gravity would be over soon. Then she noticed herself levitate, her body no longer pressing onto the lounger. It was a very odd feeling, incomparable to anything she had experienced before. She shrieked involuntarily. The man gave her an odd look. Somebody had said it was like floating neutrally during a dive but it wasn’t. It was completely different. Heather gave a small push with one hand and slowly floated across the capsule.
Silent Sun: Hard Science Fiction Page 6