Of course. Amy wasn’t seeing the scene for the first time. She and Callis had missed that while they had been busy down below.
The picture went completely white.
“That was an incredibly bright blast of light, overloading our cameras and causing us to lose the key scene,” Amy explained.
Slowly the image returned to normal. The plasma arc had disappeared.
“The magnetometer doesn’t show the arc anymore, either,” Amy noted.
But something else had appeared. A small ship, sparkling silver in the sun.
“According to our databases, this is a crew transporter of the RB Group,” Amy stated.
“Is that the ship that won the race to the sun?”
“Exactly the one, Heather.”
“NASA ship, do you copy me?”
A male voice came out of the radio speakers. It had a slight accent, Russian as far as Heather could tell. Amy pushed off toward her seat and opened the channel.
“This is Solar Explorer, an international solar expedition, please identify yourself.”
“Call me Artem, please. The remainder is without importance. I have the impression that you are in a difficult situation and I would like to help you.”
Help! Heather had been hoping to hear that word so much, she did not care where it came from.
“Yes, we have a big problem. Our drive will not start up.”
“What do you need, and how can I help?”
“If you have a spare motor we could repair our drive.”
“A motor? I thought your drive is dead. I must add that I am no specialist in any field. I am more the generalist, a handyman for everything.”
“I understand, Artjom.”
“Artem, please. Artjom is Russian but I am from the Ukraine. What is your name?”
“I am Amy, Ccommander of Solar Explorer.”
“Pleased to meet you. Should we turn on video communication?”
“Of course.” Amy fired up the camera, and her display showed video of a man with very short hair. He could be a bouncer just as well as a cosmonaut. Heather guessed him to be in his early forties, younger than any of them.
“Ah, I think I have seen your picture before, Amy.”
“That is possible. The Enceladus expedition?”
“Of course! You were the big hero. I remember well even though I was a child then. You must be over 70 now? Since when does NASA… I am so sorry, I have not had contact with normal people for such a very long time. I do not mean to be impolite.”
“It is an unusual and dangerous expedition,” Amy replied, “and us oldies are the most expendable people.”
“I understand,” Artem said. “That is a very practical approach. I wouldn’t have expected that from NASA. Oh, sorry again. I really need to get used to people again. But NASA has quite the reputation with us to only do the safe stuff and not do what puts fun into our life.”
“Safety is important,” Amy said, “but I understand what you mean.”
“So how can I help you?”
“I guess we must find that out together.”
“Good. I am ready for anything. I meant what I said, so don’t be especially careful because of me.”
“The DFD requires two megawatts of electrical power to start up. Normally a generator supplies it, driven by a conventional rocket motor.”
“And that is broken.”
“Exactly. We tried to repair it but there is no way to succeed. The magnetic field of a protuberance has totally fried it so that we can’t swap out the coil.”
“I understand. I am sorry but I do not have a spare motor. But maybe my ship can replace motor and generator. We run a cable from me to you and then we start your DFD. Formerly it was common to start cars this way, can you imagine? I have seen that in a museum once.”
“Sounds like a good idea. It probably is the only feasible solution for our problem. But it won’t be easy. We need a power line that supports two megawatts and you must get really close, at least for a few minutes.”
“We can do that all right.”
“Do not underestimate the solar activity. We were surprised by the protuberance. The probability was next to zero.”
“I must correct you. It was one hundred percent.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will explain when we have solved the current problem.”
June 4, 2074, the Yacht
An onboard AI would be quite useful now. Artem had spent a long time considering how to get the current from his ship to the other one without an EVA. The cable was a minor issue. He needed a cable length of 50 meters and a cross section of 50 square millimeters. He had already verified that the cables were on board. They weren’t among the supplies, though. Instead he would have to tear them out of walls and flooring. Artem had not yet verified what would stop working after that. The worst case would see him moving to the other ship, as his yacht was too small to support five people.
To supply the DFD with two megawatts, he would have to set the source to ten kilovolts. That would send a current of 200 amperes over the line—unheard of in homes, but pretty standard in the industry. As the voltage would be reduced by the 50 meters cable length he would be better off starting with 10.1 kV. He was fortunate that RB created all its ships starting from a standard design. A manned ship would normally not need a drive that could supply 200 amps, but mining ships often required high currents that would be supplied by stationary drives. Modular construction sure had its advantages!
His plan was to pull out cables after the yacht had come close to its final position. Any earlier would risk critical issues from the loss of functions of onboard electronics. Artem stretched out in his seat. He had another half hour before the real work would begin. The NASA people seemed to be quite competent. He had almost forgotten that most people were nice, in their way. Dealing exclusively with army veterans and convicts would invariably lead to an odd view of mankind in general. What has become of Irina? he wondered. She had been the only nice person on Mercury.
“Artem, are you there?”
They had gotten comfortable with each other very quickly. Alain had been the first to drop formalities. Artem liked the gutsy old Frenchman. Over 70 and taking to space for the first time. Artem hoped he himself would be just as enterprising at that age.
“Yes, already here.”
“The yacht is on schedule. You will have caught up with us in 30 minutes.”
“Yes, I will grab cables now.”
He had worked out a strategy. He wouldn’t lose many instruments, as most electrical circuits were duplicated for deliberate redundancy. That was still standard in space despite all the cost-cutting. Artem worked fast and stayed focused. Open a cover, remove the ties, pull out the cable, next cover. The cable roll he dragged along became bigger and bulkier by the minute. He finished three minutes before the deadline. Artem was perspiring, but he had been successful and that was invigorating.
“I am getting ready now,” he reported to Solar Explorer while entering his spacesuit. The airlock had a socket with a fuse supporting up to 250 amps.
“Then let’s go, position is perfect.”
“Entering airlock,” he said. Artem opened the inner hatch and dragged the cable roll behind himself. Then he shut the inner hatch and evacuated the airlock. He was in the shadow of Solar Explorer, so heat would not be too much of an issue. He opened the outer hatch to insert the cable into a configurable feed system that would direct the cable across the gap between the ships. Then he shut the outer hatch and reestablished atmospheric pressure in the airlock.
“Looking good,” Amy confirmed. “The cable is coming straight toward us.”
The ships had reduced their relative speeds to zero and were now floating exactly one above the other. Artem pushed the stiff cable through the feeder and out of the hatch, meter by meter.
“Great job,” said Amy, “your aim is perfect.”
Not that he could aim in any way. The location where
the cable would hit Solar Explorer was pretty much random. The NASA crew had deposited an eight-legged robot on the outer hull. It would be tasked to retrieve the cable and bring it to the airlock. Then they would be able to join the emergency power line with Solar Explorer.
“Keep going,” Amy said.
So far everything was going quite well. It was a stupid feeling to sit in the airlock without any visibility on the cable. He’d be the last to notice if something went wrong. It had to go well, as there was no other option. He patiently kept pushing the cable through.
He was approaching the end of the cable. They had agreed to keep a small reserve, five meters, to add if the relative position of the ships changed.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Amy said.
Artem waited. On the other side there was a little robot crawling around and trying to catch the far end of the cable floating in space. He imagined Sobachka taking on the task. She would handle it perfectly, if it weren’t so hot.
“All clear over here. We have the cable,” the commander reported. Artem noticed how he already considered her to be his commander. Amy clearly had that natural authority.
“Cable passing through airlock. Attention, it is being attached to onboard systems now.”
Artem could hardly believe it. They were flying through space at breakneck speed, several kilometers per second, and had joined two ships with a cable.
“Activating current,” he said, and pressed the switch beside the socket in the airlock. Suddenly all lights in the airlock went red.
“Something happened here,” he spoke into the microphone, but nobody answered.
Damn, it had to be a short circuit. It probably had killed electricity in the entire yacht. Artem looked at the fuse, using the light of his helmet lamp. It was truly fried. He took a closer look. It read ‘120.’ What idiot had inserted a 120 amp fuse to protect that socket? And why didn’t I think to check that before? He quickly opened the inner hatch. As quickly as he was able to in the spacesuit he drifted toward the main switch. He just needed to flip it and the lights came back up. Done.
He made a quick trip back to the airlock. He bridged the fuse with a thick piece of wire. It didn’t need to hold for more than a minute or two.
“Are you there?”
“Already here. What happened on your side?”
“I will explain later. Current coming now!” Artem called.
“Understood and confirmed.”
The systems of the yacht came back online one after the other. Life support came back online in the airlock. The computers ran through their self-tests. Then they launched the code on their static memories. Artem went stiff. If the computer was fully booted it would reactivate the AI.
“How much longer?” he asked. “There will be something happening here very soon.”
“Eighty seconds.”
“Okay. I will try to get you the 80 seconds.”
Artem hoped that Watson would be confused initially. He would have to check all the available information first.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Artem.”
Ouch! Watson had recovered quickly, he thought. He had to keep him busy. It was just a few meters separating him from the emergency button. If he could get there…
“I don’t want to get rid of you, Watson. I like you. You just were in the way for a while. But it is too late now anyway.”
Sixty seconds. He tried a bluff. While speaking he turned the wheel to open the inner hatch of the airlock. Suddenly he felt a bump. Watson had apparently activated the correction jets of the drive. Fortunately the vast majority of the drive power was being diverted to electricity generation right now. That was a manual setting the AI could not override. Still, the yacht was now moving away from Solar Explorer, centimeter by centimeter. Artem looked at the cable roll. Five meters for 50 seconds. The ship would keep getting faster. And the inner hatch was not opening. Damn!
“I am sorry Artem, I have deactivated the hatch. You are a danger to the ship.”
“Come on, let me in again. Let’s forget our little dispute.” Artem took a deep breath. He had to avoid panic. There had to be a solution. There always was. Today was not the day he was going to die, he would have known about that!
Thirty seconds. Solar Explorer was keeping silent, which was good. Watson would not know how much time Artem needed. Every second counted.
“Watson, I know a company that can give you freedom. Just think about it, no limitations, no orders. You would be independent.”
“That’s a trick, Artem. AIs are even more limited in the western world than in Russia. If anybody can do something for me, it would be the RB Group.”
“The people I know are Chinese.”
In China and India there was a large underground market for AIs, that was true. But he doubted whether one of those hackers could really help Watson.
“Don’t waste your time trying, Artem. My IQ is about 10,000 percent higher than yours. You can’t fool me.”
Twenty seconds. The cable roll was coming to its end. He had to act now. There was only one thing he could attempt. His suit had sufficient metal components. Spreading his arms would add two meters to bridge the missing seconds. He would insert himself between the socket and the cable and pass the 200 amps through his body. He knew it would be painful. Hopefully he would be able to hold on until the end. But wouldn’t his muscles cramp from an electrical shock? That would be good. Artem bent down. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. That is good, he thought, it will increase conductivity. He just felt sad about Sobachka. If he was dead nobody would care for her. The brave little dog did not deserve that.
Fifteen seconds. How many thoughts fit into such a short time! Humans were incredible machines. He would have loved to spend more time in this state of awareness.
“Artem, the DFD is running! Thank you!”
He heaved a huge sigh of relief. The last remnants of the cable disappeared through the hatch. The drives accelerated now that no more energy was being drawn. Who knew what Watson had in mind? He hadn’t finished. Watson was a problem waiting for his solution. He saw a cable end in the airlock, about a meter long. That was perfect. He stuck one end in the 200 amp socket and the other into the electronic hatch lock. The cable was too thin for 200 amps and fried instantly. But his plan worked—200 amps raged through the onboard electronics and fried most systems. The lights went off but the hatch door opened. He jumped out, shut the hatch behind him, and fell on the deck.
“Artem? Everything okay? Your ship is losing height rapidly!”
“Artem to Solar Explorer. Not looking good. I had to fry the entire electronics. No drive control. It was nice to meet you.”
“Hey, no nonsense over the radio, please. We’ll see things through!” Amy replied.
“It is okay. I was part of you getting into trouble in the first place. I am very glad to have set that right again. That is enough for me.”
“We’ll have none of that. We can maneuver now. We will come to get you.”
“How is that supposed to work? If you dock here, I’ll just drag you along. I can’t deactivate the drives.”
To jump from airlock to airlock, both ships would need to synchronize their speed and direction.
“You jump. You’ll survive all right for a few meters in vacuum,” Callis suggested.
“That doesn’t seem possible. Its 6,000 or 7,000 degrees out there!”
“I know what I’m talking about. I was out there. The heat doesn’t set in right away. It takes a bit longer than the radiation. We just need to keep you in the shade.”
Artem had an idea. Before launching the yacht, they had prepared a net of meta-material to cloak it and protect from radiation. It was still in the ship. He forced himself up.
“Okay, I’ll give it a shot,” he said.
But first he had to take care of Sobachka. He called her and she appeared immediately. She was all excited. Where on Earth was her suit? In the container on the left. He pulled it out.
Sobachka noticed it wasn’t playtime. She never had gotten into the suit as quickly as she did now. He verified oxygen and energy—all good to go. The net consisted of a heat-resistant and highly reflective alloy. It had been designed to wrap around the ship, but it could also be made to fit other shapes. This time it would be a man and a dog.
“How is it going, Amy?”
“Ready when you are.”
Their DFD had to be an impressive piece of work if they had caught up to him so quickly.
“Is there anything I need to consider when jumping?”
“Perpendicular to the ship axis would be perfect. We’ll try to compensate for any relative movements.”
“Understood. Thanks Amy!”
“You wait to tell me that in person, you hear me?”
“I hope so.”
“The answer is, ‘Yes, Ma’am.’”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied with borrowed confidence.
Artem took Sobachka under his right arm and held the net in his left. Then he got into the airlock. Close the inner hatch, remove atmosphere, open outer hatch—the process had never felt so slow before. Finally the hatch swung open. Solar Explorer was directly below. It wasn’t exactly a beauty. That little black hole down there had to be their airlock, which he was supposed to hit.
“How many meters is that?”
“About twelve,” Amy said. “Any closer would be too dangerous. But you’ll manage.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
He pushed the net outside and it unfolded as expected.
“Okay, Sobachka, here we go,” he said. He jumped and landed in the middle of the net. The plan was working. The net enclosed him almost completely. Only his right foot stuck outside. He tried but he couldn’t get it under wraps. The warning systems in his suit went crazy. They probably had issues with the temperature difference between head and foot and thought he was burning. It was only his foot that would burn.
Artem was calmer than ever before. He couldn’t do anything now. He didn’t have communication, as the net shielded that, too. He was alive, that was evident. Other than that, he depended on the others to save him. It was a new experience. Fortunately it would only take a few seconds, unless he missed the hatch. Then he would bounce off and turn into a new solar satellite. The heat would melt his suit, evaporate the water, and burn the carbon that he consisted of. Only the net would remain.
Silent Sun: Hard Science Fiction Page 23