The Tau Ceti Diversion
Page 7
“Whatever the truth, it does not change what we need to do.” Mara pushed herself to her feet and looked Karic up and down. “For God’s sake, clean yourself up,” she said, walking out of the room.
“Do you think we can survive this?” asked Andrai.
Karic smiled. “With functioning suspension equipment set up inside the lander …? We have a chance.”
“What next?” asked Andrai.
Karic stood. A cold conviction hardened inside him. Evelle was right. If they were to survive this, he could not let Janzen make one more operational decision. The commander had shown himself to be a cold-blooded opportunist that would weigh human life against profit like an accountant reconciling a business account. It sickened him.
What next?
“I remove Janzen from command.”
CHAPTER 4
Karic wandered through a verdant wilderness — an endless twilight world — marveling at the absence of his pain.
Surely this is a paradise.
The leaves were broad and dripping with sweet moisture. Huge blossoms towered over the forest in a profusion of color, dwarfing the plants that gave them birth. Above, the sky was blue ebony, untroubled by the passing of time or the touch of sun or moon.
Karic could not guess how long he had wandered. He came to a deep tangle of green. Deep shadows writhed within the thicket, pulsing with change. Karic knew instinctively this change was forbidden. The hidden place needed protection if ever the crucial birth was to occur.
He drew closer, until he stood within the shadows. The darkness writhed at his feet then burst open, spraying him with the fluids of birth. Then brightness flared. Karic raised his arms to shield his eyes as something emerged, bright as a golden sun, flashing with brilliance. It flew past him, rising higher, and he was drawn into its substance as though swept heavenward on the breath of a god. He was rising, climbing higher, speeding with the joy of new life, onward toward a towering brilliance that even now stirred to receive him.
Karic.
He woke suddenly from a deep sleep, noting immediately that the pain in his head was gone. Above him the cabin lights flared into his eyes while the clarion pulsed angrily, surrounding him with confusion.
He tapped his comband. “What?”
It was Andrai, his voice excited. “We need you right away. The planet has an atmosphere, Karic. An atmosphere!”
***
Karic rushed into the conference room, his mind running in excited circles. He sought Mara out immediately.
“Is it oxygen-nitrogen? Are we close enough for a spectral analysis?”
Mara nodded, yet remained silent and aloof. Her fine-featured face was pale with tension.
Karic sat down, confused by the somber expressions of the assembled crew. The principal mission of the Starburst was to seek out Earth-like planets for settlement, and here — amid disaster — they may have found one. When Andrai told him they had found a planet with an atmosphere, he had dared to hope their mission would succeed, despite everything. Now he was unsure.
“How close to orbit?” asked Karic.
“Wait for your questions. There is something else …” said Mara.
Something unpleasant judging by these long faces.
Janzen entered the room with measured poise. He was wearing a white commander’s dress outfit with red trim, the bold red stripe down the arms and legs bright against the pure white fabric, giving him an authoritative, almost martial presence. He had a new red odin that matched perfectly. The comband on his wrist was a non-standard version, bright with diamonds and gold chasing. Karic knew that this was the news Janzen had been waiting for — confirmation of a habitable world.
Janzen sat down and nodded to Mara to start her presentation, totally unaware of the mood in the room.
“I finished the detailed spectral analysis an hour ago, and I have all the results, which are promising. Then, when the astronomical processors came back online, I ran my manual data and the raw data the sensors have been collecting on the system through the program.”
She faltered.
Karic looked at Andrai. The usually relaxed tech was downcast and tense. Something was wrong.
Mara took a deep breath and continued.
“The planet is a super-Earth, 1.2 standard gee surface gravity, and has an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere. The helium and argon content lighten it enough to give around one standard atmosphere of pressure on the surface. Very low greenhouse gases, hardly any carbon dioxide or methane, which is surprising. It also has a magnetosphere comparable to Earth’s. But the temperature profiles—”
“Don’t be so glum, Mara. That is excellent news,” said Janzen. “We will be shipping back colonists in no time.”
“I don’t think so,” said Mara.
“Why not?” asked Janzen, nonplussed. The commander looked around the room, a knot of tension appearing on his usually smooth forehead as he looked at Mara and Andrai’s long faces.
“The astronomical program finished running just minutes ago. I haven’t … had time to tell you, but the program informed us of a black hole in the system. That is beyond a doubt the source of the radiation and particle surges. It must have been only recently captured by Tau Ceti, because it has not developed a large disk of gas around it. It was difficult to spot. But the computer pinned down its approximate orbit by analyzing the orbits of Tau Ceti and its planets. I still haven’t found any trace of the gas ring optically, even knowing where to look. But it will be there.”
“But something like that, it would have been detected from Earth, surely,” protested Janzen.
“Ordinarily, yes. But this one is the size of an asteroid, and a small one at that. Without a visible gas ring, only the X-ray radiation would have given it away. The gravitational effects on Tau Ceti would be insignificant, and certainly would not be observable from the Earth system. Standard theory says a typical black hole should have a mass similar to our sun. The existence of one this small will rewrite the astronomy books.”
Karic took a sharp breath. Of course. X-rays would jet through the system as the superheated gases first spun around the heavy nucleus of the black hole, then fell into its steep gravity well. A portion of the mass was always ejected outward, the gases squeezed so hard in the intense gravity that some acquired enough energy to escape before the rest disappeared below the event horizon.
“Is the black hole in a stable orbit?” asked Andrai.
“For now,” said Mara, chewing her lower lip. “But the writing is on the wall for Tau Ceti. Eventually, the black hole will feed off the sun itself — then this system will die.
“Now that we know where to look, we should be able to predict the surges by monitoring the temperature of the gas ring.”
“How close are we to entering an orbit of the planet?” asked Karic.
“Months.”
“Not for us,” replied Karic. “I have finished assembling the sets and they are in working order. We can be in orbit in a few weeks of live time.” The time spent out of suspension was “live time” — time spent awake and physically aging — as opposed to the actual elapsed time as the ship travelled through space, during most of which the crew were held in stasis. “We should probably set up a beacon in orbit and descend to the planet itself to wait for a response from Earth. With a black hole orbiting Tau Ceti … escaping the system without major damage would take a miracle. And the ship cannot take another major surge.” Karic tapped the table with his fingers as he worked steadily through the implications. Every eye was on him.
Janzen had taken off his odin and was staring at the table, his hands spread out on the white polymer glass in front of him, as though to steady himself.
“In suspension on the planet, we at least know that we are safe. We can use the planet to shield the Starburst while we wait to hear from Earth. If Earth cannot send a recovery vehicle, then — and only then — will we risk the return,” said Karic.
Janzen was silent. News of the black hole
had apparently stunned him, and Karic understood why. There was no way a planet in such an unstable and dangerous system would be accepted as a candidate for terraforming. His carefully laid plans had been dashed, in one instant.
“What else can you tell us about the planet, Mara?” asked Karic.
“It is the fourth planet from Tau Ceti. It has no moon. As I was saying before — the temperature profiles indicate that it’s tidally locked. Its rotation is fixed, with one face always directed toward the sun, much like our moon-Earth system, but in this case dividing the planet into perpetual night and day.”
“Tidally locked,” said Janzen the harsh tension in his voice at odds with his usual smooth assurance. “But … but that’s only a factor for the small M-class stars. Tau Ceti is G-class. The planet is a super-Earth—”
Karic’s eyes narrowed. This was another factor Janzen had not planned for.
“I know. It is surprising, even for a small G-class star like Tau Ceti,” said Mara. “This planet is an anomaly. It has no moons at all, unlike the other Tau Ceti planets. It’s the only planet in the system that is tidally locked. I can only assume there were some unusual conditions in its early development. The lack of a companion satellite, a very low rate of initial spin, an unusually low dissipation function—”
“But can it be colonized? Is it habitable?” Janzen leant in toward Mara, his blue eyes betraying a naked hunger Karic had rarely seen in the commander.
“We can only read the temperatures across the upper atmosphere, but we can extrapolate. There is no doubt the day-side surface will be an arid hothouse — it would be like living inside an oven. The sensors have not been able to penetrate the dense cloud cover on the planet, so there is no way of telling if conditions on the surface of the dark side are favorable or not, but it’s most likely a frozen wasteland. The biggest unknown is how geologically active the planet is. We know so little about worlds like this.”
Janzen leaned back into his chair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Janzen smoothed back his blond hair with a delicate touch of his right hand — an unnecessary gesture since it was still perfectly coifed — and once more the handsome Davis was back, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, blue eyes lit with something that might have been excitement and perhaps relief.
“Even if the planet is tidally locked, if the atmosphere and temperatures are right there will be colonization potential — even if it’s only around the terminator — the temperate zone between the bright side and dark side. That will still be a sizable area on a planet that size. Plenty of real estate.” Janzen showed a fine line of white teeth as he smiled. “In terms of protecting ourselves from the radiation, we should stay in orbit. Descending to the planet will be too risky.”
“Orbit?” said Karic, amazed Janzen would even suggest it. “Janzen, any orbit would expose the ship to Tau Ceti on a regular cycle. It would be like playing Russian Roulette.”
Janzen put his odin back on, straightening in his chair. The left data-screen lowered, and his lips moved silently as he quickly reviewed a file. No doubt yet another contingency plan drafted by an ExploreCorp engineer before they left Earth.
Janzen’s odin contracted into a single band once more. He tilted his head back into a familiar posture of command as he addressed Karic. “We can use a synchronous orbit.” He smiled as inspiration struck. “Positioned in the planet’s shadow.”
“Hold on,” said Karic. “Mara said the planet was tidally locked. Any synchronous orbit would put us millions of kilometers out. Well outside the planet’s shadow.”
“This planet has a mass more than four times that of the Earth,” insisted Janzen. “Surely—”
Mara cut in, her voice sharp and impatient. “A synchronous orbit is a function of both mass and rotational period. If that planet is tidally locked to Tau Ceti, its rotational period is the inverse of its orbital period around Tau Ceti. And that’s damn slow.”
Karic shook his head. “We have no choice. Despite the state of the ship, we will have to set the Starburst for station-keeping inside the shadow before we descend in the lander.”
“What …?” Janzen’s left data-shield lowered once more, and he waved his hands at Karic to stall him, trying to keep ahead of the argument while still reviewing more information. “But … but if we take the lander to the planet, we could lose the lander or damage the sets. It is too great a risk.” Janzen’s voice betrayed an edge of panic.
“I disagree,” said Karic. “We will be much better protected from the radiation on the planet. Trying to take the Starburst out of the system and all the way to Earth is just too risky at this point. If Earth cannot send a heavily shielded recovery vehicle, then it’s a call we have to make. But at least we can do it based on years of data on how the black hole behaves, and the patterns of radiation. If there is a cycle, we may be able to leave Tau Ceti during a window of low radiation. In the meantime, we need to find the best place to wait. That means descending to the planet.”
Janzen gave up on the odin. The data-screen contracted with a snap. As he faced Karic, his face flushed red.
“I am still the commander, Karic!”
“You brought us all here, Janzen. Don’t bother trying to deny your knowledge of this system, or the radiation risk. But you didn’t plan for a black hole, did you? Or a tidally locked planet?” said Karic, evenly.
“Groundless accusations. I warn you, if you go too far, I’ll have you up on charges,” said Janzen, but his voice lacked its usual bombast.
Karic looked quickly around the room, judging the mood. Now was the time.
“You have shown yourself unfit to lead this crew, Janzen. I am relieving you of command.”
The room went quiet.
Janzen forced a laugh, then looked around at the crew. His eyes grew wild as he took in the silent resolve forming around the table.
“You can’t!” said Janzen. “ExploreCorp put me in charge of this mission, and I intend to see it through.”
Karic looked around at the crew, “Who is with me on this?”
“I am,” said Andrai.
Mara nodded reluctantly. “So am I,” she said, meeting Janzen’s gaze squarely.
“I want no part of it,” said Ibri, scowling at Karic.
“It is not unanimous! It cannot carry!” said Janzen.
“It doesn’t have to be, Janzen. As sub-Commander, I only need the support of the majority of officers, which I have.”
“I own this vessel!” said Janzen, pulling himself up and glaring at the crew. “The Davises were the ones who funded this mission, and, by God, I intend to keep control!” His posture was confident, but the tremor in his hands betrayed him. “Oppose me in this and you won’t see a cent of your fee. Not a cent! Do you hear me?”
Karic smiled grimly. Janzen was showing his true colors at last.
“None of that matters now,” said Karic. “First, we have to stay alive. I am taking command, Janzen. I should have at Epsilon Eridani. I can’t believe I let it go this far.”
“I won’t stand for this, Karic. I have the codes that activate the suspension sets, and I will not give them to you if you proceed with this.”
Karic’s heart raced. It would have been so easy to give in to his anger at that moment, but he kept it under a tight rein. He would not give Janzen a single edge over him. Not now.
“So you would condemn us all to a slow death rather than admit you are responsible for crippling the Starburst and killing thirty-three people?”
“You are out of order, Karic!” said Janzen. His control had finally cracked. He seemed pathetic as he shouted back at Karic. “I am the legally appointed head of this mission.”
“Really? Well, not anymore. Remember, Janzen, I designed that suspension equipment. Don’t you think I could bypass a simple lockout?”
Karic pulled eight IC chips from his pocket and threw them on the table in front of Janzen. The former commander swallowed and looked up from them to Karic.
Janzen blinked rapidly, his eyes glassy as he returned Karic’s gaze. His mouth worked soundlessly as he struggled to rally his thoughts, but nothing emerged. His face pale with shock, Janzen seemed to shrink into himself, now looking ridiculous and out of place in his immaculate uniform.
Karic stood. “I am now commander of this mission.” He swept his gaze across the room. “I intend to get us all back to Earth, alive.
“We are undermanned and have a huge, complex ship that is damaged. We have wasted way too much time on ridiculous exercises like cost-benefit calculations and damage reports.”
Karic sighed and pointed at Janzen. “I want you to help Andrai and Ibri get the systems back up and running. You aren’t a technician, but you know enough about the ship to be useful.”
The former commander looked back at Karic, his jaw slack, face set in a rare expression of incomprehension, as though he could not believe this was really happening. But Janzen was never thrown for long. He blinked again and cleared his throat. “We still cannot send down the lander without knowing what the conditions on the surface are like. We have to stay in orbit.”
He saw the fear in Janzen’s eyes. But he was a member of the crew. Karic’s crew.
“That’s true. We need to know what the conditions are like. If we still have insufficient data when we reach the planet, we will try an unmanned probe.”
“And if your unmanned probe fails, Karic? What then?”
“One of us will make the descent in a pod.”
Mara’s eyes widened. “But the pods have only minimal shielding! They are designed for descent only; and only if the conditions are perfect.” She looked around the group for support. “We should use the heavy lander for planetary descents.”
“No. We cannot risk the lander. Janzen is right about that. Not with our only suspension equipment hardwired into it.” Karic looked around at the crew. “Mara. Tell them.”