The Tau Ceti Diversion

by Chris McMahon

  “Hold on folks, we should be through this in a few minutes,” said Andrai.

  The lander was a solid craft, built for just this sort of descent. It represented centuries of incremental design improvements. It was no mean task to descend to a planet’s surface with enough fuel to regain orbit. Mara leant back against the padded headrest and tightened the harness straps again, heart beating fast with excitement. “I can’t wait to see the surface.”

  She was burning with curiosity. Despite their efforts, the heavy cloud had defeated all but the most rudimentary attempts at gathering data on the surface below. Radar scans had given them a very crude relief map, with the spectrographic analyses and drone-gathered samples of the upper atmosphere showing more water vapor than Earth and intriguing traces of light hydrocarbon molecules.

  The lander shook, then lurched sideways, taking Mara’s breath away.

  The ride was about to begin.

  “I hope I get my money’s worth,” yelled Mara to Andrai over the roar of the thrusters.

  The buffeting on the exterior of the craft increased. The lander lurched and careened out of control, spinning wildly.

  Mara yelped. Her hands flew to the harness straps, gripping them tightly. She looked across the small central cabin toward Andrai. His face was calm, his concentration total, as he stilled the lander and brought it back on course. He continued to monitor the exterior composition of the clouds and atmosphere as though nothing had happened. The turbulence continued, yet Andrai kept tight control. They soon grew used to the constant shaking.

  There was so much they did not know about this system. After months of intensive study, there was still not a shred of direct evidence of the black hole, even after the Shipcom reactivated, giving them the full power of its computing systems. Yet she knew it was there — orbiting within 0.1 AU of Tau Ceti. Yet there was no detectable gas ring. Even the orbit of the thing seemed to change, which was impossible. Impossible. How could something like this hide from them? How could a black hole that small even exist?

  The lander spun once more. Stale water and food rations — a hasty meal before the descent — swept up her throat, but she swallowed it back down.

  They had launched a probe from Starburst six days ago that would slowly orbit Oasis, swinging through the shadow and back across the bright side. It should get an excellent view of Tau Ceti. It would download its data to the Starburst on each transit. Hopefully the programs they had set up for the Shipcom would be able to pull something useful from the data. If they had to make it back to Earth themselves, it could make all the difference.

  The buffeting on the lander eased. It was warm inside the cabin, the air heated by their bodies, the instruments and the waste heat from the engines. Mara forced herself to let go of the harness straps — one finger at a time. She looked across to Janzen. His face was paper-white. His hands shook as he fumbled with the zipper on his shirt. Ibri’s head was bowed over his terminal, lost in his work once more. He had already loosened his harness straps.

  The roar of the heavy lander’s thrusters increased as Andrai halted the rate of descent. The rocket engines were still using only a fraction of their power.

  “Standby for tank ejection on my mark,” said Andrai.

  Mara checked her console, watching the last of the fuel drain from next external tank to be ejected in the entry sequence. The fuel valves switched simultaneously, the thrusters now supplied from the new tank.

  “Three, two, one.” Andrai flipped the cover from the number three tank ejection button, his finger poised. “Mark.” Andrai’s finger stabbed down. The craft jolted as the seals were disengaged and the tank tumbled away.

  Outside, unknown gases swept around them, whipping the hull with moisture and savage winds.

  Inside, there was a haven.

  The beacon drew them down to the dark side — towards safety. Mara found herself focusing on its regular beat as the craft shook, as though willing them closer to Karic, alone on the surface below.

  Finally, the turbulence stopped. Andrai worked with quick, sure movements, adjusting dials, fingers tapping and sliding across the surface of his monitor’s active screen. The craft tilted into its atmospheric flight posture. The roar of the braking thrusters dropped away, leaving only the faint whine of the flight engines. A light tone sounded as he switched the craft to automatic pilot. The lander was now cruising as smoothly as a big passenger jet.

  Andrai released his harness, stood up smoothly, then stretched. “We are underneath the cloud.”

  “Already?” Mara checked the altimeter and looked back at Andrai. All their modeling predicted that the storm activity would extend all the way to the surface.

  Janzen swallowed and released his harness. “I think it is time we discovered what sort of a planet this is.”

  “Leave the orders to me, Janzen,” snapped Mara. Janzen was getting under her skin. “OK. Let’s get to work.”

  Andrai continued to assess the atmosphere, working with the many analytical instruments that the lander was equipped with. Ibri monitored the lander itself, ensuring all critical flight systems continued to function properly. Behind them, Janzen sat back in his chair and lowered the left screen of his odin. A dissonant hum filled the air as he activated the full immersion mode and began dictating notes to the AI, his mouth moving rapidly, his blue eyes lit with excitement. Again and again his eyes flicked to the main viewport, which appeared like a dark wall above the center console, its shield still in place to protect the polymer-glass from the heat of entry. His left leg tapped out a rapid rhythm.

  Mara looked back at her own console. It was her task to assemble and interpret all the incoming data, piecing together a picture of the strange world outside the heavy steel of the hull. She soon became absorbed in her work. The first thing that surprised her was the temperature of the atmosphere. The dark side should have been frigid and set with ice, and yet the ambient temperatures were well above freezing point, climbing as they descended toward the surface. They soon entered the typical range experienced in the tropics on Earth.

  “Just above one standard atmosphere, just like you predicted, Mara,” said Andrai. “Looks like the lighter molecules like water and oxygen balance out all the gravitational effects, giving about the same weight of atmosphere on the surface as Earth. Interesting.”

  “Send all that over,” said Mara.

  “Coming your way, boss.” Andrai made a flicking motion on his screen and a link to his data appeared on hers.

  Mara ran an atmospheric model, incorporating all the new data. On Oasis, water vapor seemed to sweep from the light side to the dark side, where its energy was released with violent intensity as it cooled. This caused not only permanent cloud cover, but continuous storm activity in the upper atmosphere. Yet their data indicated that below this maelstrom lay a calm, mist-shrouded expanse.

  As they descended, Mara found that the temperature varied constantly with position. This puzzled her until she realized the distribution would be consistent with numerous sources of radiant heat, all located on the surface of the planet. Could they be volcanic vents?

  “Any further sign of storm activity, Andrai?”

  “No. The radar is showing nothing but low-lying cloud in the distance. Nothing near us, and nothing as violent as the upper atmosphere.”

  Her heart raced. It was time.

  “OK. Let’s have a look at the dark side of Oasis.”

  Andrai flicked a switch, and the low drone of electric motors sounded over the whine of the engines.

  They crowded around the center console as the heavy steel plates that covered the polymer glass viewport drew back.

  Bright light flooded through the gap, stinging their eyes.

  And they saw Oasis for the first time.

  Lush. Green. How can it be?

  Andrai sat forward, his eyes full of wonder. “It’s a paradise.”

  “How …?” muttered Ibri.

  Janzen took off his odin, the little AI
automatically snapping out of full immersion mode. His eyes were alive. He drew himself up, his head tilted back as he took in every detail.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” shouted Janzen, pumping a fist in the air.

  He returned his odin to his face and started pacing the short deck.

  For a long moment, Mara could not speak. It was beautiful. A vast world of vibrant life — untouched — vegetation stretching to the horizon. More than an oasis, this world made Earth, with its huge interconnected cities and fenced wildlife reserves, look like a desert of steel and concrete.

  “Get another fix on that beacon, Andrai,” said Mara.

  Andrai worked rapidly, but he could not stop his gaze from drifting back to viewport.

  Janzen paced behind them.

  Andrai found Karic’s position and paused, perplexed. “Karic is deep inside the dark side, thousands of kilometers from the terminator.”

  So she had been right.

  “Plot a course,” said Mara, turning to watch Janzen, who was dictating rapidly into his odin. He had forgotten to reactivate the full-immersion mode, and although he was speaking in a low voice, Mara could hear the odd word over the roar of the engines.

  “… life … certain that colonists will risk … Downplay black hole … scientific error … experts to refute …”

  He was behind her chair.

  “No terraforming is required. An Earth-like living planet! Easy marketing. Premiums. Notify the mining conglomerates as a priority. Drilling and exploration to start immediately.”

  Janzen looked down at her. His eyes glowed with triumph.

  “Back to your seat, Janzen. Strap in.” She could not keep the tremor out of her voice.

  She turned back to the viewport, captured by the vast panorama. Never in their wildest dreams could they have imagined this. Not after the death and misery that they had suffered. Soon, they would meet Karic and walk the surface of this strange new world. The first of mankind to find life, alien life, amid the sprawling expanse of the cosmos. But how? How could it be here?

  “Where is the light coming from?” asked Andrai, his eyes fixed on the view.

  Her head pounded.

  There should be no light.

  “We are below the cloud now. Deploy the sensors, Andrai,” ordered Mara.

  Andrai nodded then retracted the heat shields over the sensors. The delicate instruments extended beyond the hull, then unfurled.

  “Sensors, active.”

  They slowed the lander, then circled, allowing the delicate sensors to sweep the area.

  Mara flipped through the data coming in, her heart beating wildly. No. Not possible.

  “Mara?” said Janzen.

  She shook her head.

  On the descent, she had theorized multiple sources of heat. These could have been natural. Volcanic vents, for example, emerging from a vast area with high activity in the mantle. But this? There were multiple sources, but not just emitting heat. There was a broad band of electromagnetic radiation; strongest in the infrared and visible spectrums, but with narrow bands of radio and microwave. It was distinct, like a signature.

  “Mara?”

  “I’m not sure. There seems to be many sources, and they … they can’t be natural.”

  “Cannot be natural?” Janzen was indignant. “First you cannot find a black hole — which you claim is such a threat to us. Now this?”

  “Do you have any conception of the amount of power it would take to heat and light half a planet!” shot back Mara.

  Janzen looked down at her and snorted dismissively. “Do you have any proof? Any data that proves these … sources are constructed?”

  “Well no, but …”

  “Then you have no idea if they are natural or not. After all the trouble we went to at selection, instead of scientists, we have overblown technicians that run on conjecture. You are as bad as Karic.”

  Mara took a deep breath. “Thank God you are no longer in command. You are fucking clueless, Davis. Now sit down before I have Andrai and Ibri secure you to that chair.”

  Janzen’s eyes widened, and his face flushed red.

  “Oh, and by the way — data-glasses snap out of full-immersion mode when you take them off.”

  She watched Janzen as the realization hit home. Now he was truly disturbed. Even so, he regained his composure quickly. He was about to speak when the beacon abruptly ceased.

  For hours it had been part of the atmosphere in the cabin — now it was gone. For tense minutes, no one spoke.

  Janzen walked over to Andrai. “Why have we lost the signal? Is anything blocking it?”

  Andrai worked frantically for long minutes then stopped, turning to Mara. His face creased with tension. “It’s just gone.”

  “Is there any way to locate him without the beacon?” asked Janzen. His voice was neutral, his eyes calculating.

  Mara ignored him. “Andrai, is there anything you can think of that would affect the beacon?”

  The tension in Andrai’s face eased as he thought it through out loud. “There are no atmospheric phenomena that could have caused this, no geological features anywhere near the horizon. The beacon was either switched off … or it failed.”

  “We have already laid in a course based on the approximate position of the beacon, so take us there. Better tuck away the sensors,” said Mara.

  “OK. Everyone strap yourselves in,” said Andrai.

  Once they were secure in their harnesses, Andrai applied full thrust.

  The acceleration pushed them deep into their seats. Their speed climbed into the supersonic, then hypersonic zones, the blunt wings and struts on the exterior of the squat craft now coming into their own.

  Please, God. Let Karic be alright.

  CHAPTER 7

  Within an hour they decelerated.

  Below them, a lake spread out majestically. It glittered in the light of a vast crystal mountain range. Mara shivered with excitement. She knew without a doubt that what she was observing was one of the many sources of light and heat on the dark side of Oasis. In shape, the mountain range looked like any other geological feature, driven up from the mantle by volcanic forces in the planet’s history, yet it was as clear as glass — completely transparent — its crags and curves containing myriad internal facets. And it was lit from within by a warm radiance. She looked away from it to her viewscreen, blinking away a stark afterimage of the mountain’s jagged shape, imprinted on her retina.

  “Andrai, redeploy the sensors,” said Mara.

  Her readings confirmed the unique EM signature. This was one of the sources she had first detected. It did not look constructed. It was as irregular, eroded and worn as any natural mountain would be — although devoid of vegetation. And how could something so monolithic be manufactured?

  The clear light gave the scene a dreamlike quality. Below the mountain, the lake and the nearby thick walls of vegetation were still and tranquil.

  “It’s so beautiful,” said Mara.

  “There’s the pod,” said Andrai, banking the lander into a wide turn that showed a clearing on the right below them. There was no sign of Karic.

  “I can see the beacon. It’s in position. It must have malfunctioned,” said Andrai.

  Mara tried the radio link. “Karic, do you read me?”

  Silence.

  “Karic, this is Mara, do you read me?”

  She hailed him for another five minutes as Andrai slowly circled above, but got no reply. Mara took a slow breath.

  “Activate the landing sequence, Andrai,” said Mara.

  “We should wait,” said Janzen. “Observe.” His leg was tapping out a rapid rhythm on the deck once more.

  Mara spun in her chair. “Janzen! If you contradict one more of my orders, I really will have you gagged.”

  Janzen turned away without comment and slipped on his odin, lowering the data-shield.

  Andrai leveled out the lander. Maneuvering rockets slowed their forward speed, then the braking thrusters engage
d with a sudden roar, bringing the big craft down for a vertical landing. As they descended, Mara strained against the glass of the viewport, hoping to catch a glimpse of Karic. Beside her Andrai did the same.

  “Where is he?” whispered Mara.

  At last the lander touched the solid surface of the planet. The engines gave a final roar and cut, leaving them in abrupt silence.

  The pod lay askew on the thick grass of the lake shore, the door wide open, the panels discolored with the heat of atmospheric entry. Even from the lander, they could see it was empty. Beside it, the transmitter array had toppled to the ground. It was blackened and inert, the paint peeling from the metal casing like dead skin on a corpse.

  “Lightning strike,” said Ibri, venturing a rare comment.

  They released their harness straps, fumbling with clasps and tripping in the cluttered space as they moved slowly through the cabin.

  Mara moved her limbs experimentally in the planet’s heavier gravity. After the initial elation of finding life here, she was fatigued and uncertain. The surface gravity had added ten kilos to her weight, at least.

  “How’s the air, Andrai?”

  “The atmosphere is safe, and breathable. High in oxygen, but within safe limits. We should wear the particle filter masks just in case there are some airborne nasties.”

  “OK. Janzen, you and Ibri go and check out the pod. Take one hour. Examine the pod then scout the area and see if you can find Karic. Stay in radio contact. Andrai and I will take the lander up and do an aerial survey, then scout for a camp nearby.”

  “I can’t do that, Mara,” said Janzen.

  “What did you say?” said Mara, rounding on Janzen.

  Andrai and Ibri froze.

  Janzen smiled. “Section thirty-five, part eight of the code. ‘Only ExploreCorp officers and crew can take part in advance planetary landings or scouting missions of a dangerous nature.’ Since I have been removed from command, Mara, I am a civilian. Nothing more than a shareholder. I cannot be part of this expeditionary force.”