Launch

by Richard Perth

  “Wow, Buni, look at that! Have you ever imagined anything so incredible?”

  He shook his head. “No. We’ve been preparing for this moment for a long time, but nothing has prepared us for the emotional impact of actually being here.”

  “We need to learn more languages,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “We’ve got a long way to go and a lot more to see. We’re going to need more adjectives.”

  ▼

  After surveying the planet and releasing a satellite in polar orbit to make detailed observations, Claire transferred control to David for the next leg.

  On the way to Minor-2, he released two star-survey satellites to coast into orbit around Minor. One satellite would be in a polar orbit, and the other would be in an equatorial orbit at a higher altitude. NASA hoped the satellites would get simultaneous pictures and measurements of spectacular events such as stellar storms from two different viewpoints.

  Minor-2 and Minor-1 were too close to Minor to be surveyed from the ship. David released heat resistant survey satellites to coast into orbit over each planet. He then approached Minor-2 on its dark side and used the planet to shield Origin from Minor’s extreme heat.

  M2 was covered with impact craters, like an orange version of Earth’s moon. It was less than half the size of Earth and took less than three months to orbit Minor. Because the planet rotated slowly on its axis, the side toward Minor was seared while the dark side was frozen by the cold of space.

  From the shelter of M2’s dark side, David studied Minor-1. It was a seething ball of molten metal, mostly iron, about the size and composition of Earth’s molten metal core.

  “This just gets weirder and weirder,” Claire said.

  “What?”

  “Hiding behind a planet to spy on a blob.”

  “It’s a good thing that M2 is here. We can get better pictures and more information about M1.”

  “Why is it just molten metal?” Claire asked. “Why not a planet?”

  “It may have been a planet like Earth at one time,” he said. “But because Minor is so close, its energy may have blown the lighter parts away, leaving just the heavy molten metal.”

  “Why doesn’t it get blown away, too?”

  “It probably will be over time, bit by bit.”

  From Minor-2, Claire flew Origin toward the two planets that orbited each other as they took a little more than a year to circle Minor in the fourth orbit. Each planet was about the size of Earth, and each was the other’s moon. David designated the slightly smaller planet Minor-four-a and the larger planet Minor-four-b.

  M4a was the source of the radio signals. Smoke particles, suspended in the upper atmosphere above the weather, blocked most of Minor’s heat and light. As a result, the planet was dingy and cold.

  Hazy glimpses of ruined structures that appeared to be manmade could be seen through occasional breaks in the cloud cover below the murk.

  Clouds covered the source of the radar signals, but Origin’s infrared and radar imaging systems revealed structures at the site. A probe dropped to the surface reported that the planet’s atmosphere and frozen surface were highly radioactive.

  Claire felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “Nuclear winter?”

  “Looks like it,” David said.

  “Earth could be like this when we get back, couldn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Claire shivered.

  Analysis showed the mixture of gases in the atmosphere could be breathable. Surface air pressure was calculated to be in the normal range for Earth, and gravity was 3% less. The cold could have been tolerated with warm clothing and heated structures, but the radiation was a killer and would be for thousands of years.

  Claire put a survey satellite into polar orbit and started Origin toward Minor-four-b. Then she transferred piloting duties to David.

  Cougar and Buni took advantage of the short trip to M4b to microwave two servings of meatloaf. They and the other Team Thunder astronauts liked the recipe Leah Taylor had given to NASA.

  David asked, “Could anything be alive on four-a?”

  “It’s hard to see how, but organisms could be buried deep in the soil undergoing who knows what mutations caused by the radioactivity. I don’t know what’s creepier: that frozen, radioactive horror of a planet or the mysterious radar signals, reaching out, maybe begging for rescue.”

  “They could be a warning,” David said.

  She nodded. “That makes sense, too.”

  ▼

  From space, the blue and white marble of M4b resembled Earth, and Claire’s pulse quickened. Origin’s monitors revealed two large, irregularly shaped land masses on opposite sides of the planet, and the center of each was near the equator. Lush green foliage covered much of the land. Surface temperatures averaged above 90 degrees Fahrenheit at the equator and well below freezing at the polar ice caps. Gravity and planet density were a little less than Earth’s. Oceans covered more than two-thirds of the surface. The atmosphere contained ample oxygen for animals, but plants were the only evidence of life on the surface.

  David dropped a probe into the water near a reef. When pictures of creatures that resembled fish came back, Claire exclaimed, “Wow! Look at that! Let’s go to the beach!”

  “Fantastic,” he said. “I wish we could.”

  ▼

  David’s mood was light when they left Minor-four-b, and he resolved to come back. But as he began acceleration for Minor-5, he noticed that no transmissions had been received from the satellite over M4a for more than four hours. He started a program to send interrogator signals to the satellite every five minutes. A half-hour passed with no response, and David changed course back to four-a.

  The satellite’s last transmission had been received from an orbit that would have taken it over the radar site. David flew Origin slowly along the satellite’s last course in the upside-down pyramid position. He and Claire used the nine sensor arrays from the three down sides to search for the satellite. Partial thrust from all four engines kept the starship suspended just above M4a’s dingy atmosphere.

  Approaching the site of the radar, monitors displayed an infrared bloom on the surface, an indication that something had exploded or a missile had been fired. David assumed the worst and immediately accelerated straight up at nine gs. When the missile broke out above the cloud deck below, the race was already on, and Origin was losing; the attacker was accelerating at more than ten gs. The starship had the power to easily outrun the missile, but the acceleration would have killed Cougar Flight.

  David ejected the remaining speed-of-light test missile and fired it almost straight up. Without taking time to rotate the ship, he then switched engine nozzles and used nine gs of thrust to accelerate sideways.

  The gimbals supporting Claire’s and David’s couches spun them to new positions in response to the abrupt change in direction.

  The attacking missile began a turn toward Origin, wobbled toward the test missile, and turned back to follow the starship.

  Still going up, the attacker passed the starship’s altitude, and David switched engine nozzles again, to nine gs straight down. The distance between the hostile missile and the ship widened rapidly.

  David watched the attacking missile make a wide turn. That gave him hope that the attacker was an anti-satellite missile: fast, but with limited maneuverability, no more than necessary to hit a satellite in a predictable orbit.

  Then, with Origin diving toward the planet, an infrared bloom of another missile launch appeared directly ahead. David immediately switched engine nozzles to accelerate the starship away from both attacking missiles and the radar site. He hoped that if both missiles were on the same course behind him, he would have a better chance of evading them. They might even collide with each other.

  Planet M4a’s gravity accelerated the dive of the first attacking missile. Though it tried to turn toward the starship, it did not pull out of a dive before entering the planet’s atmosphe
re. Friction turned the missile into a fireball just before it vanished in an atomic blast. The force of the explosion was contained by the atmosphere, and Origin’s shields protected it from the radiation.

  David zigzagged and yo-yoed to lead the second missile away from the radar and into a screaming dive. It too blew up in the atmosphere, leaving Origin without a scratch.

  David reduced thrust, flew the starship around to the dark side of M4a, set course to Minor-5, and transferred control to Claire.

  “What were those things?” she asked.

  “I think they were fission-powered, anti-satellite missiles. He shook his head. “No wonder that planet is a radioactive nightmare.

  “I’m glad to see the last of M4a.”

  “We have to go back to finish the survey at the end of the mission.”

  “Did nine gs make you crazy? How are we going to do that?”

  “Fast and sneaky, like a cat in a barn full of hunting dogs.”

  She laughed.

  Chapter 24

  Over the next months, Claire and David explored the remaining planets and their many moons.

  Minor-5 was smaller than Earth with a rocky core covered entirely with thick ice. Stress made elaborate patterns of cracks in the ice. The planet had a thin atmosphere of mostly hydrogen and helium and a cratered moon less than 25 miles in diameter.

  Minor-6, the second largest planet, was more than 1,000 times larger than Earth and had 29 moons. The pressure at the bottom of its thick hydrogen atmosphere was so great that both liquid and liquid metallic hydrogen were produced.

  Minor-7 was the largest planet in the system, more than 1700 times the size of Earth. It spun on its axis more than twice as fast as Earth, and it had 22 rings and 42 moons. The hydrogen and helium atmosphere was hundreds of miles thick and blew around the planet at speeds near 500 miles per hour. Dust in the atmosphere obscured the surface, and friction between dust particles generated spectacular lightning bolts with the power of nuclear weapons.

  Minor-8 was a dense planet that seemed out of place among the giant gas planets in the outer Minor system, more like an escaped moon. It was small, a little more than half the size of Earth, with an orange tinted atmosphere of methane and nitrogen. Liquid methane at 300 degrees below zero carved the surface like water carved land on Earth.

  ▼

  On the way to Minor-9, Claire became depressed as she studied childhood diseases in a pediatric textbook. She forced herself to finish the chapter and then went to the fireman’s pole in the study.

  David was on his way from the shirtsleeve control compartment to get a cold drink when she landed on the middle deck. He smiled. “Hey, Cougar.”

  She did not pause on the way to the other fireman’s pole. “Not now, please.”

  David was puzzled. He heard the gym clanking below, went up to the study, and discovered what she had been studying. Then he went to a storeroom, brought back one of Claire’s favorite desserts, pineapple-coconut cheesecake, and put it in the refrigerator to defrost.

  A half-hour later, carrying her own cold drink, Claire kissed him on the neck while he sat working at the shirtsleeve control panel. “Thank you,” she said and continued on to the shower.

  ▼

  Minor-9 and Minor-10 were both water-covered planets. Their atmospheres of hydrogen, helium, and methane were so thick that atmospheric pressure made the surfaces of the oceans hotter than the surface of Minor. Only immense atmospheric pressure kept the water from boiling.

  Origin’s last survey satellites were placed in orbit over Minor-10 and two of its nine moons. Cougar Flight spent a week around Minor-10 surveying the details of the rings and the seven moons not covered by satellites. This was their only visit, and they had to get it all.

  ▼

  Claire and David started the long journey back to M9 to survey the details and moons they had skipped on their initial visit. They had been very busy, and the flight would give them a chance to rest. It would also give David a chance to catch up on reviewing data from the 29 surviving satellites in orbit throughout the Minor system.

  They slept together then had egg substitutes, pancakes, and real coffee for breakfast. Their life-in-space habits were well ingrained, and they secured their utensils immediately after eating. That left them with the remainder of their coffee.

  “Do you know what today is?” Claire asked.

  David made a show of squinting at the monitor. “What day? It looks pitch dark out there to me.”

  She ignored his pathetic attempt at humor. “It’s the half-way point of the mission.”

  “We’ve been so busy, I haven’t looked at the Earth clock for a while.”

  “And . . . ,” she said.

  “Michael’s gift!”

  David retrieved the gift from storage. Inside was an ebony box with an engraved gold plate on the top:

  To our dear friends

  Claire and David Archer

  Godspeed

  Joanne and Michael Bedford

  May 1, 2050

  Inside the ebony box was a collection of gold coins from around the world. Each was in mint condition and secured in its own red velvet pocket. A picture of Joanne and Michael was in the lid.

  “It’s beautiful,” Claire said.

  “Joanne and Michael were trying to look out for us—again. They wanted to make sure we had money when we got back to Earth in case our investments failed. This will be worth a fortune as a collector’s item.”

  “I could never sell it.”

  “Me neither,” David said.

  After a minute, she asked, “Are you sorry we left?”

  He shook his head. “No. We’ll always miss our friends, but I’m sure we did the right thing. How about you? You had second thoughts the night of the party.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been fine since we launched.”

  David said, “I used to have dreams the night before combat missions and long over-water flights. My dream before this one was about being all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Now?”

  “No dreams since launch. You’re here. Wherever you are is where I belong.”

  She smiled. “I love you too, Buni.”

  As she reached for his hand, the collision warning horn went off. The howgozit monitor showed normal instrument readouts, the blackness of space, and an “ABNORMAL SHADOW” warning flashing red. Something was blocking light from the stars.

  “I’ll secure the box,” David said. “Still your ship.”

  Claire put their cups away and sprinted to her maneuvering compartment. She cancelled the collision alarm, reduced thrust to one-tenth g, put on her spacesuit, and belted herself in her console.

  Her monitor showed David with his spacesuit on and starting to put on his helmet when she heard a horrendous bang, a rush of escaping air, and a shrieking pressurization alarm. He became invisible in fog caused by rapid depressurization. Claire knew his compartment had been hit by a meteoroid, and she was paralyzed by panic. It was identical to what she had felt when her mother was killed by a meteor.

  She rebelled against her panic. NO! NOT DAVID TOO!

  Claire opened the adjoining door to David’s compartment from her command console. Air rushed from her compartment into his, and the drop in air pressure filled her compartment with fog.

  She hit the quick-release button and then rolled out of her couch. Rushing to the door, she was sucked toward it at increasing speed. Claire jumped and turned so her right buttock and shoulder were slammed against the wall. She bounced, twisted, grabbed the edge of the door, and allowed herself to be pulled through at speed that would not damage her spacesuit. Its integrity was essential to their survival.

  David lay with his helmet beside him, and his skin was turning blue. Claire locked his helmet into position over his head, twisted the safety lock around the emergency suit pressurization button, and pushed it. His suit inflated with oxygen, and pink began to return to his face. At one-tenth g, she was able to p
ick him up and secure him in his couch.

  She raced back to her console. Her monitor showed that David’s pulse, oxygen level, and respiration had already returned to normal. He was alive, but was he David or was he a vegetable? She would have to find out later. Her duty now was to save their lives by saving Origin.

  Claire applied five gs of reverse thrust to begin reducing the ship’s high speed toward whatever was out there. She checked again to make sure David was okay and then went to nine gs.

  Her monitor still indicated an abnormal shadow. That eliminated the theory that the collision alarm had been caused by whatever had hit David’s compartment. Still, nothing but stars and the blackness of space were showing on her monitor. She was wondering if there was a malfunction when she began to see vague shadows against the stars. More stars winked out. An invisible threat blocked more space visibility and was growing. Growing? She shivered. Then she watched in awe as her monitor filled with images of asteroids that seemed to extend forever in all directions: a solid wall. The ship and the asteroid field were on a collision course and had been closing too fast from the very first warning to avoid it.

  Claire began to see space between the asteroids as she approached the field at high speed. With total concentration and split second timing, she snaked the ship up and down and right and left through the gaps. Occasionally she rolled the ship to move a part of it out of the way for a squeaker. Several times, the only opening seemed too small, and she was surprised when there was no collision.

  Origin’s enormous power was an extension of Claire’s will, and she soon mastered the asteroid dance. That freed up her conscious mind to consider other things. She checked David’s monitors again. He was normal. She noticed she was drenched in sweat, despite the cooling system in her suit, and her shoulders and face muscles were tense. She closed the door to David’s compartment, re-pressurized her compartment, put its cooling on maximum, and relaxed as best she could. There was no end in sight, and she knew she was going to need all of her strength to save the ship.