Approaching Oblivion (Jezebel's Ladder Book 4)

by Scott Rhine

  Lou shook his head. “I don’t like this. If there’s any chance they did this to Mercy on purpose, I say we confront the Magi. No honesty means we don’t take their bloody test. We’re smart people; we can find some way home. If nothing else, we can strap four of the Icarus generators to Ascension and drop Sanctuary into one of these suns in protest.”

  “Where is the wristwatch now?” asked Zeiss, stepping back into the main room. The others followed the commander in his pursuit of clues.

  “Um . . . I didn’t see it on the dresser. I’m guessing she put it back on her left arm. Where is that?” Park asked Nadia.

  “The robot chewed it to pieces,” Nadia said.

  Blanching, Park leaned against the wall. “Boss, it dropped my girl off a mountain and ate her arm before it fried her memory. We can’t sit still for this. I’m with Lou. We draw a line.”

  Zeiss said, “Everyone is a little emotional right now.”

  Lou shook his head. “No. We have two of the three pilots voting to confront. Red, what do you say?”

  “There has to be a reasonable explanation,” Red said feebly. “We should ask Snowflake first.” Addressing the dome on the ceiling, she said, “Snowflake, have you been listening to our debate the last few minutes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why have you been interfering?”

  “The test is sacred. The test must be completed. No virus shall pass. The hand must not be seen. All else is subordinated.”

  Red raised her voice. “No. The rule about the hand is for those being uplifted, not us. When we are in the role of uplifters, we must be treated as equals.”

  “The test will continue.”

  “Screw you. You can’t make us,” she snapped.

  Suddenly, the wide, golden airlock door to the patio shut tight, and the light in the room changed from dim white to a bright orange tinge. Yvette heard a tell-tale whoosh and experienced a moment of dizziness. It couldn’t have happened in the command room, she thought. Nonetheless, the lens display now showed a close-up view of planet Daedalus. In zero g, no one would fall. If all electrical activity ceased, how would we know? Yvette asked, “What time is it?”

  With fear in his voice, Park announced, “Guys, the time counter has advanced sixty days.”

  Yvette announced, “Snowflake just froze us all and flew us to the test against our will.”

  Red said, “Yeah. I stand corrected about that force thing. Why is there an exclamation point on my screen?”

  “Radiation levels are unacceptably high. Please correct your approach,” said the computer.

  Chapter 18 – X-Ray Rainbow

  Yvette was terrified that the tantrum of the alien computer would be the end of them.

  Red was livid. “You’re the one who brought us here against our will. You change course.”

  The interface gleeped a negative. “I can only follow paths plotted by others and only when that path is safe.”

  Growling, Red asked, “What’s the source of this radiation?”

  “Rapid rotation of the planet Daedalus combined with a liquid metallic hydrogen core generates more energy than it receives from the suns—”

  “Synchrotron radiation, like Jupiter,” Zeiss finished. “Show us a 3-D chart in rads per twenty-four hour period. Four hundred rads and above exceeds 50 percent human fatality. Overlay the screen in transparent yellow and taper off exponentially, stopping at five rads for eventual chromosomal damage in white.”

  The screen filled with a pulsating yellow torus. The first three moons were lethal, and the fourth could still dip into the danger zone periodically.

  Zeiss examined the projection from all angles. He floated up to touch the bubble. “Snowflake, increase resolution here, labeled in powers of ten. Use the entire rainbow down to visible violet.”

  Red said, “The envelope is thinner on the daylight side. We might be able to use the blast shadow from either of the two outermost moons to—”

  Whispering to Park, Yvette said, “Let’s finish moving Yuki.” Together they floated the patient to the sick bay. By the time they settled Yuki onto the monitored bed, Park was sweating and radiating panic. Hoping to soothe him, she asked, “What’s wrong with Daedalus?”

  “It’s like a microwave oven with X-rays thrown in,” the Korean drive specialist explained. “It will damage our scientific equipment and cook any biological materials—like us. We thought all the moons would be habitable or at least tolerable this far from the suns, but the radiation level on the Icarus moon is over a million rads a day.”

  “Just use shielding,” she suggested.

  “We haven’t invented anything that can shield that much. A few kilometers of atmosphere forms the best buffer, but solid rock will also do. It takes about 8.5 centimeters of steel to reduce X-rays by a factor of ten. To fly by that moon, we’d need half a meter of steel casing or four meters of water. We wouldn’t be able to survive in suits in the landing bay. Our original course takes us too close to Daedalus.”

  “This sort of shoots holes in the theory of Ideal Planets making the best colonies,” she complained. “I guess the Magi didn’t tell us everything we need.”

  Park shrugged. “The theory is still a good one because inner planets are usually much denser. Unfortunately, we can’t see how fast a planet is turning on its axis until we’re in the same system. By then, we’re committed.”

  “How can this be more dangerous than passing by a sun?” Yvette asked.

  “That was with the lens closed. Good idea.” Floating into the control room, Park said, “Red, close the lens and the shutters while you’re figuring. It’ll buy us time.”

  Red did so.

  Then Zeiss took a frantic radio call from the Hollow. After a private discussion, he relayed information to those in the command center. “The campers down below weren’t frozen like we were for the last two months. They only knew about the radiation danger when the shutters closed and lights went out with no warning.”

  Auckland said, “I’ll investigate the rest of Olympus and see how far the stasis effect extended. I’ll also check up on Mercy.”

  “Why not stay sealed up like this?” Yvette asked in the dim glow of the instrument panels.

  Talking about an area of expertise seemed to calm Park’s nerves. “Long term, we have to open the lens and the windows to survive. If visible light can get in, so can the bad stuff. The team has a few hours to plan an orbit around Labyrinth that we can maintain indefinitely because once we’re circling in the holding pattern, we won’t have the fuel to change much. Then, Z needs to determine a minimum radiation entry to that orbit, which we can do with our shutters closed some of the time. We’re four days out from our intended intercept. During the dark times, Lou would need to fly by gravity sense with no depth perception.”

  “Because of Mercy,” she recalled.

  “He can still do it with a good gravity map, but our expert for that is laid up with brain damage and stab wounds.”

  “Yuki.”

  “Yep.”

  “We are so screwed,” Yvette concluded.

  Lou concluded, “The use of profanity shows that you understand the scope of the problem.”

  Park crawled under his control hood to help define the radiation-safe zones around Labyrinth. The resulting oval looked like an eye, with the moon buried in the tear duct. “When we’re closest to the gas giant, we’ll hide in the moon’s atmosphere. That deep, we can release a probe or the shuttle. The rest of the time, we can take shelter in the shadow behind the moon, preferably the trailing edge. We might still have to shutter the big windows briefly during extreme fluctuations.”

  Red used her Quantum Computing abilities, borrowing mental power from Park and Nadia to plot the optimum irregular orbit. The three remained silent during the process.

  Meanwhile, Auckland reported back. “Mercy is still immobilized. Everything in the kitchen is rotten except the freeze-dried stuff. The water quality is still good, so we won’t starve. It
seems only the command room was frozen.”

  “Toby!” Yvette burst out, surprising several of the others with her intensity. “He was in the storage area.”

  They unlocked the cell only to find it empty. Lou sniffed the air. “Excess ammonia because he couldn’t reach the toilets, but no decomposition odors.”

  Distracted, Zeiss said, “Sorry, Herk’s been talking to me this whole time. Toby escaped after eight days.” Listening a bit longer, he added, “He managed to remove one of the patches on the landing ramp and squeeze out. Then he used one of the antigravity tiles as a parachute to slow his descent to the swamp.”

  The doctor snorted. “We put him in our highest security cell, and it only took him a week to get out when he wanted to. That’s comforting.”

  “Actually,” Zeiss replied with his hand cupping one ear, “he only took that long because he wanted to finish Mercy’s treatment. I’m tired of playing telephone. Let him tell you himself.” The commander hit the high-tech equivalent of a speakerphone button.

  Over the speaker, Toby said, “I left vials in the refrigerator, along with instructions for the injection sites of each. I figured out the hypothalamus part on my last guinea pig. If I hadn’t fixed the brain component, production of certain hormones would have continued to increase in order to compensate. Without the warning, we might not have caught the escalation in time.”

  “Good job,” said Lou, humbly. “We owe you.”

  “Thank Yuki. She’s the one who bled for it,” Toby insisted.

  “You may have just saved our ship by giving Lou his senses back,” Yvette said, awed by the feat.

  Zeiss asked, “Herk, how has the prisoner behaved?”

  “I keep him locked in the caves at night,” Herk replied. “Oleander stands watch. He was able to haul the medicine fabricator down with him but not all the chemicals. He spends most of his time gathering naturally occurring compounds to feed it. His room reeks of sulfur.”

  “That’s my Hades,” Yvette mumbled.

  The doctor said, “Even after we inject Mercy with the next phase, the talent suppressants will take a few days to flush out of her system.”

  Zeiss sighed. “Thaw her now, and Lou might be able to sense well enough.”

  “Give me back my lighthouse, boss, and I’ll carry you all on my back if I have to,” the pilot promised with a huge grin.

  “First, we’ll double-check Toby’s work and give Red a chance to plan the route,” Auckland said. “Rushing things only gets people dead.”

  “Like trusting the Magi,” Yvette said.

  Zeiss rubbed his face. “Yeah. We still need to address that issue.” Turning to the central controls, he said, “Snowflake, I suggest a compromise. You warn us verbally before we get too close to something we can’t know, and you stop stealing fuel from us. If you need to send out a robot or something sensitive, just warn us, and we’ll avert our eyes.”

  “Nadia can detect them without eyes. The hand must not be seen.”

  “We will send her to Labyrinth’s surface if she can take the captured armor with her,” Zeiss promised.

  “We would like that. Hiding from Nadia has been inconvenient.”

  Lou stuck out his lower lip and wiped his eyes to mime crying. Yvette smacked his arm. They lost months and ended up in another crisis the last time they annoyed the ship’s computer,.

  “Can you assist us in repairing the armor?” the commander asked.

  “The pages you have been given are sufficient for the task.”

  “That would be a no,” Lou translated.

  Zeiss continued. “Snowflake, we will continue with the mission, but only if no more crewmen are attacked and no more of our data is destroyed.”

  “The test must be completed.”

  “Then I need a yes or a no for your promise,” Zeiss said.

  “Mercy will speak to me again?” Snowflake asked.

  “Only by verbal instructions until after she has the baby,” Yvette cautioned.

  “Then, yes,” the computer replied.

  Pushing the envelope, Zeiss observed, “You could have eliminated Yuki before she left the message, or destroyed the evidence sooner. You let us have a few words. Why?”

  “A calculated risk. Mother Mercy could be saved only at the boundaries of the law.”

  “Mother?” Lou echoed.

  “The first person to enter the ship . . . contributes to the interface so that we can adapt to a new species.”

  Yvette pulled the conversation back on topic. “Snowflake, can we have back the pieces you stole from Yuki?”

  “These minerals have already been recycled.”

  “That’s unjust interference with our test,” Zeiss complained. “It took us a year to make that arm.”

  The computer paused. “The same effect can be achieved with less effort by tools already provided.”

  “Which Magi tools can be used to make a prosthetic?” Yvette asked.

  “None.”

  “But you said . . .” Yvette halted and tilted her head. Quietly, she whispered, “Do we have tools to regrow human bone and muscle?”

  “The answer you seek has already been demonstrated.”

  Lou guessed, “The pods? The first time through, they rewrote Mercy according to her genetic template, erasing the copy errors that could cause breast cancer. Z healed from stroke damage.”

  “Yuki passed through after the incident,” Yvette said. “Her scars and the skin covering her stump improved, but nothing else. Although, that happened before we took the final measurements for the prosthetic, so we can’t be absolutely certain.”

  “Maybe there’s another cycle on the washing machine. Every other device in this place has at least two settings for ‘on’,” Lou pointed out. “Mercy proved that. A heavy soil setting might clean deeper.”

  “That could help with several of Yuki’s current injuries, your eyes, and even with Herk’s burns from his coat catching fire. I see no harm in trying,” Auckland said. “We might need Mercy’s assistance with Snowflake to sneak up on the details.”

  Zeiss sighed. “I wish this ship came with an instruction manual. I’ll authorize the experiment, but only after we make orbit. We’ll send a couple regeneration candidates up to the pods when we launch the first probe.”

  Chapter 19 – The Labyrinth from Above

  Once Red established a target orbit for Sanctuary a few hours later, she briefed four other planners. Nadia substituted for Mercy, and Auckland sat in for the final medical discussion. “According to Yuki, Labyrinth revolves around Daedalus every sixteen of our hours. The moon completes a rotation on its axis every 160 hours—roughly five L days facing the planet and five L days facing away. We’ll call this the L week. If we stay locked to this rhythm, we’ll always be in the same relative position at each point in the cycle and can stay safe from radiation indefinitely.”

  Sojiro objected. “Wouldn’t that be more like a month?”

  “Too short,” Lou replied.

  “A wonth?”

  “Thounds like a listhp.”

  “How about lunar cycle? We could abbreviate it lunacycle.”

  “A ten-week, which we could abbreviate tweek,” Lou bantered back with a grin.

  Red was bending the wooden pointer stick in her hand almost to the point of breaking.

  Zeiss smiled. “Stop heckling her, boys, or you give the next presentation. L week is fine. If you convert to hours, it equates to 1.05 Earth weeks—close enough for a UN resolution.”

  “Thank you,” Red said, with a withering glare at Lou. Too bad he couldn’t see it. She displayed a slide of the proposed curves and intercept times.

  Zeiss said, “I validated these to four decimal places on the revised computer model.”

  When everyone approved, Red said, “We’re only going to learn enough to finish our mission through massive amounts of observation. The first orbit, we’ll do a coarse map of Labyrinth with Yuki’s old library of sampling programs. Next, we’ll focus
on a narrow band and collect details. We’ll use information from the first few orbits to plan the best path for the orbital probe. From now on, we record everything to a database with copies to our own secure computer system. Like Wikipedia, anyone can add to or notate the information, but each change must be signed by two crew members. I’ve disabled deletion to prevent tampering.”

  Zeiss nodded. “We’ll try that approach until the amount of data becomes too unwieldy. Then we’ll have some spare time to build a data-management system we can trust.”

  Nadia wrinkled her brow. “If we are already orbiting, why do we need a probe? Better still, how did we sneak it on board a prototype shuttle performing a speed test?”

  Professor Zeiss shifted into lecture mode. “There are two probes built into the base design of the Tetra series. Just as the earlier Angel series of shuttle was designed for lunar traffic, the Tetras were officially built with Mars missions in mind. Half our long-range sensors and comm gear in the nose cone can be launched in a small orbiting bundle. This satellite could have been used as a radio relay if we landed out of Earth’s line of sight or in a Martian dust storm. Most important for our colony deployment is the gear for weather monitoring and prediction. The sensors and camera on board could also be used in scouting a landing place for probe number two—the rover.”

  “She asked you what time it was, and you told her how to build a grandfather clock,” complained Lou.

  The commander ignored the request to hurry. “The rover is more sophisticated than its ancestors due to nanotechnology. Even so, it is half batteries by weight. Every square centimeter of it is covered in solar fabric. It can handle a substantial communication delay with complex orders or operate remotely by joystick. Once the rover scouts a few potential landing zones, we’ll pick where Ascension touches down for the observation colony.”

  “Spook Central,” said Sojiro. “Once that’s established, we learn everything about the aborigines we can while remaining unseen. We crack their language, figure out what they need, give them twenty-seven brilliant pages, and head home heroes by dinnertime. Simple.”