Sebastiano looked at the filled pouch. His bladder was empty, and the last part of the procedure only took two minutes. Catheter and pouch ended up with the residual waste in the compartment at bottom left. He pulled up his sweatpants and switched off the spotlight. Finished! How often have I done this by now?
“Don’t be startled,” someone said in a soft voice. It was Maria. He recognized her form in the dim glow given off by the night lights of the module. “I couldn’t sleep anymore either. Do you need help?”
“All done,” the cook said, “but thanks anyway.” While sitting on the toilet he washed his hands. A gust of air dried his skin. He looked at the ladder. Should he force himself to go up there again? The toilet seat was quite comfortable. Or was he in Maria’s way? “Do you have to go, too?” he asked her.
“No, you can stay there,” she replied. “I just came down here so I wouldn’t bother Doug. His snoring is so terrible.”
“Yes, isn’t it?” Sebastiano agreed. “Maybe both of us should move down here.”
“But the smell...” Maria said as she looked down toward the engine room. The toilet was the main source of the fetid odor, though. On the asteroid the crew had a much more modern model. The toilet on board Kiska was a Russian military version and was at least thirty years old. During use, unpleasant odors escaped and the life-support system could not neutralize them quickly enough.
“Look what kind of problems we have,” Sebastiano said. “Ten million people are about to die, and we worry about snoring and smells.”
“That’s what humans are like—us included,” Maria said. “I’ve got some experience with that. When my mother kicked me out, I didn’t know in the morning where that evening’s dinner would come from. But then, when I found a place in the brothel and had a roof over my head, I was jealous of my colleague who got more lucrative clients. Of course she was a relative of the owner.”
“Why did your mother kick you out?” Sebastiano asked.
“My father groped me,” Maria said quietly. “I was only thirteen, but I wouldn’t put up with it and slapped him. Then he beat me up. I confessed what happened to my mother, but she believed him rather than me. Due to his unbelievable lies, and also because I often got her raging mad for other reasons, I ended up in the streets. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago.”
Sebastiano wondered whether they had ever had such a personal conversation before. For some reason it had never happened on the asteroid. “I was luckier with my parents,” he said. “After the accident they helped restore my feelings of self-worth.”
“Where are they now?” Maria asked.
“They are both dead.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Maria said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her skin felt warm.
“It’s been quite a while. But I think that’s why I hardly care about the threat to Earth,” Sebastiano explained. “I am an outsider.” ‘Misfit’ might be the better term, he thought, but he did not like to view himself that way.
“It makes me sad,” Maria said.
“That so many will die?”
“It’s not the people I will miss, Sebastiano. But we are losing our home planet. I know we will be fine on 2003 EH1 as long as we want to. But it is a refuge, nothing more. We couldn’t survive there without all the technology. That space rock does not welcome us. Only Earth gives us air, water, and food without asking anything in return.”
“And we mistreated our planet whenever possible,” the cook added.
From the level below them they heard an unpleasant sound, as if stone grated against metal.
“Watson, what is that?” asked Maria. Sebastiano slowly got off the toilet and crawled toward the ladder leading down.
“I am turning off engine two,” Watson said. Now there was one less engine accelerating the ship. Right away Sebastiano felt somewhat lighter, and he took a deep breath. He would not mind at all if engine 2 took a longer break.
“Watson, we need some technical diagnostics.” This was Doug’s voice.
Sebastiano turned around. The commander was standing behind him, dressed in his underwear.
“The performance curve of engine two suddenly decreased significantly,” Watson said. “I therefore turned it off for reasons of safety.”
“Shortly before it was switched off there was a loud, scraping sound from the engine room,” Maria said, “like stone against metal.”
“Could have been the turbine blades,” Doug said. “Those are made of ceramics. Or the pump, which also has a ceramic insert. Watson, can you find that out?”
“The pump performance fell in parallel to the power of the engine. But the sensors in pump two do not report anything unusual,” Watson said.
“Then it must be the turbine,” Doug added. The turbine generated the electricity the pump needed to move fuel into the engine. “Do you see anything there, Watson?”
“A few heat sensors indicate increased values. But it isn’t anything dramatic.”
“Yes, because you turned off the engine just in time,” Doug said. “One of the turbine blades must have touched the wall, just slightly, because otherwise it would have blown up around our ears. Perhaps the thermal insulation layer is defective.”
“We have been running the engines above specifications for two days in order to get to our destination on time,” Maria said. “Now we seem to be paying the price.”
“There is no alternative,” Doug said. “If we cannot reactivate engine two soon, we will miss our destination.”
“Couldn’t we just run the other ones for a longer time?” Sebastiano suggested.
“It is not quite that simple,” Doug explained. “If we were on Earth, moving in a direct line from A to B, you would be right. But we instead are pursuing a quickly-moving body, within the force field of the sun. You have to imagine it like a funnel, or like an indoor bike race on an inclined track. The sun is in the center, and its force turns space into a funnel for us. The comparison is not entirely accurate, but Object X simply rolls down at a certain spot of its orbit. We are at a different location, and in order to catch up with it we have to accelerate first. This moves us into a higher orbit. We pass it and then we decelerate as a means to encounter the black hole at just the right moment. Watson has precisely calculated each moment. While he can correct the calculations, the performance of our engines represents the real limit. If we go too slowly now, we cannot pass the object at a sufficient distance. Then the meeting point would be considerably closer to the sun.”
“I remember,” Sebastiano said. “If we want to get closer, we have to slow down. Lower orbit means deceleration, higher orbit means acceleration. So my training wasn’t all in vain.” How long ago was that? He had not piloted a ship for at least 20 years. He was not even allowed inside the cockpit of an airplane anymore.
“Watson, how much time do you have for repairs, according to your estimate?”
“One moment, Doug, let me make the calculation.”
“Can I quickly put something on?” Doug asked, as he was still was standing around in his underwear.
“I am sorry,” Watson said. “I already have the result. We should start accelerating again in three hours, the very latest.”
“Can you tell us something about the turbine?”
“There is good news and bad news, Doug,” Watson began. “First the good news. The turbine is accessible from the engine room, so no EVA is necessary. The blades have four parts, which can be replaced individually, and we have spares for all four of them on board.”
“So those were actually four pieces of good news,” Maria commented.
Watson continued, “Now for the bad news. Unfortunately it is pretty hot and cramped down there. It certainly won’t be a walk in the park.”
“Then I am going to do it,” Doug announced to his crew.
“I could go as well,” Maria replied.
“And I, for that matter,” Sebastiano added.
“Very nice of you, but
this is a job for the boss,” Doug said.
That’s typical for Doug, Maria thought. When things get rough, he only trusts himself.
“Watson, which tools will I need?”
Watson rattled off a list of wrenches in various sizes. Sebastiano and Maria gathered everything, while Doug took an overall from a locker and slipped into it.
“Where do I have to go?” he asked then.
“In section seven there is a cover with a shaft underneath. You can open the cover with a number 13 wrench,” Watson replied.
“Maria, you’ve got everything ready?” Doug asked.
She handed him a bag with all the tools. Doug looked for the number 13 wrench and started working. Thirty seconds later something rattled.
“I’ll be gone for a while. See you.”
Sebastiano and Maria watched their boss squeezing himself into the shaft. Shortly before his hips got in there, he was stuck.
“I don’t believe it!” Doug started to grumble.
Maria laughed out loud and said, “Well, honey, you must have had one or two desserts too many.”
Inspired by this taunt, Doug tried again, but the shaft would not let him budge.
“The bottleneck is where two modules adjoin,” Watson explained. “Below it, the shaft gets wider.”
“That doesn’t help me now,” Doug said. “Sorry, but one of you has to do it. I’ve got my doubts concerning you, Maria.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” she said. “I’ll gladly let Sebastiano go.”
“Can you handle it?” Doug asked.
The Italian felt his cheeks flushing. Sebastiano knew Doug wasn’t trying to insult him. He barely managed to answer him without sounding snotty. He was going to show them!
Sebastiano crawled to the entrance, pulled his lower body over the shaft and threaded himself in. He managed without any problems. Then he put the bag of tools in his chest pocket and started his descent. He was glad engine number two was not firing at the moment, because this allowed him to proceed with less effort.
“Watson, could you tell me when I reached the proper position?” Sebastiano spoke from the shaft.
“Two more meters,” Watson replied.
All of this had gone better than expected.
“Now you are there,” the AI said. “To your left you should see the maintenance access to turbine two. It is fastened by four hex bolts. Watch out, you must not lose those bolts.”
Sebastiano started to unscrew the bolts. It was hard work, because he needed one hand to hold on. He used the second hand to unscrew and wished he had a third hand to catch the bolts when they came out. He could not simply let them drop. There! He grabbed one just at the right moment. There it was—the bolt. Damn, while he was doing this he dropped his wrench. He had spare tools with him, but he could not allow it to happen again. Sebastiano somehow had to wedge himself in. Could he use his thighs for leverage? The shaft was narrow enough. He only had to place his thighs in such a way that they touched the front and back. Then a little bit of added pressure from above and he could not be moved. Luckily, he was unable to feel any pain anymore, and now he had both hands free.
“Be careful,” Watson said. “When you open the cover, hot steam will come out.”
“SHIT!” Sebastiano yelled. The warning came just in time for him to avert his face. That way, the hot steam only hit his ears and his neck. Damn, that really hurts!
“Watson,” he said, “that was a close shave. Please warn me a bit earlier next time.”
“I am sorry, Sebastiano,” Watson said, apologetically. “Now you should hold the mobile camera into the shaft so I can analyze the damage.”
The Italian took the camera from its case. It had a rigid handle and a flexible head with an infrared lamp at the end. He held it into the turbine and turned it according to Watson’s instructions.
“I see slight score marks on the inner wall,” the AI said. “At those spots steam could enter in the future. That’s not so bad, but it reduces the turbine output by about three percent. Blade segment three is damaged. As Doug suspected, a piece of the insulation was separated. Sebastiano, you have to exchange this part.”
Watson told him which tools he needed. The cook’s fingers hurt from the unfamiliar strain, but otherwise he was doing fine. He bent the part so it would fit easier through the maintenance access and pulled it out.
“Just drop it. We won’t need it anymore,” Watson said.
“And the spare part?”
“Coming soon, Sebastiano, I just got it for you,” Maria said from above. “One moment, I will drop it down.”
He glanced up. In the dim light it was hard to see the spare part, but it landed in his lap.
“Good throw,” he said. The metal part was about 20 centimeters wide and curved. “That’s supposed to fit though the maintenance access?”
“Yes, it is designed precisely—it just fits through,” Watson said. “You will probably have to try a couple of times, but don’t bend it, or it was all for nothing.”
Try a couple of times, as if! It was a damned puzzle the engineers had come up with, but finally Sebastiano managed to do it. Now he only had to screw on the spare part.
Ten minutes later the cook almost collapsed with exhaustion. Sweat was streaming down his back.
“Is everything okay with you?” Doug called from above.
“I just need a short break,” he replied.
“The turbine is working in the normal range again,” Watson announced. “So far, the repair has taken us 2 hours and 47 minutes. To get more of a safety margin, it would be best to activate the engine again. Is there anything to be said against it?”
Yes, Watson can reactivate the engine, I don’t mind. Sebastiano did not object. One minute later he was pressed so hard into the shaft that the lower part of his spine hurt. Damn. I have to climb up again. Sebastiano pulled on the next rung of the ladder, first with one hand, then with both. His body did not move. He tried it again, but without success.
“Hey, I’ve got a bit of a problem,” he called to the others. “I am stuck.”
The Italian’s thighs were wedged into the narrow shaft. He had stabilized his lower body too well—so well that the shaft did not want to let go of him. It was crazy, Doug got stuck trying to enter it, and now he could not get himself out.
“Watch out, something is coming down,” Maria called. Sebastiano looked up and recognized a rope. Of course, why didn’t I think of that?
“It’s best if you tie it around your waist,” Maria explained. He followed her instructions and tied the rope so tight it cut into his flesh. Otherwise, he was afraid it would slip off right away.
“Ready,” he yelled.
“On my command,” said Maria, who seemed to be in charge. “Heave-ho!” At ‘ho’ Sebastiano pulled with both his arms and saw how his whole body moved upward, even though he did not feel it. The strength of six arms pulled him out of the shaft, centimeter by centimeter. With a last burst of energy he pushed himself out of the hole and moved his body into the engine room. He was completely exhausted.
Maria crouched down next to him and inspected his belly.
“You got a few abrasions from the rope,” she said, “but otherwise everything looks fine.” She took a tube of ointment out of her pocket and gently spread it over the injured areas. Maria’s warm hand felt so good he almost forgot all of his pains.
“Great work,” Doug said. He had also crouched down and now kept the cook company on the floor.
“As a reward I agreed with Maria that I would sleep down here for the rest of the journey,” Doug said. “I hope you won’t be able to hear my snoring up there.”
“I am not so sure about that,” said Sebastiano, able now to laugh again. “But I gladly accept the offer.”
February 14, 2072, Seattle
With a whirring sound blinds moved across the base of the glass dome, dimming the light. The sun was shining in Seattle today, but unfortunately Maribel had to sit in a confe
rence room for a meeting. She hoped they would reach a conclusion quickly. Chen was waiting for her in his office. He seemed to be glad he could focus on his work once again. Was he already getting tired of her?
This time only four persons were sitting around the table in the middle. Maribel’s former professor, George Crewmaster, was no longer there. She thought she recognized the man from Blue Origin by his bald head. The representative of SpaceX must have either aged ten years overnight, or else he had been replaced by someone else. Today Virgin Galactic was represented by a woman in an elegant business suit. She had her hair in a tight braid and scribbled something with an old-fashioned ballpoint pen on real paper. The first thing Maribel noticed about the man speaking for the Russian RB Group was the tattoo on the back of his right hand. This seemed rather unusual for a businessman.
The woman from Virgin Galactic put her pen aside, straightened her blouse, and looked at Maribel.
“I am glad you managed to come,” she then said with a warm, friendly voice.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Maribel replied. The sentence sounded terribly formal, but she could not think of anything else to say. Maribel and Chen arrived in Seattle yesterday, but the meeting had been postponed until today. Perhaps so the woman from Virgin Galactic could lead the negotiations? They probably assumed a woman had a better chance at convincing Maribel. In reality, though, the Spanish astrophysicist had made up her mind some time ago.
“We wanted to talk about our project again, the Ark,” the Virgin Galactic representative began. “Things are moving very quickly on our side. The first two cargo supply flights have already been launched. Everything is going perfectly according to plan. If nothing gets in our way, we might even start a bit early.”
“Don’t the worldwide demonstrations and protests pose a problem?” asked Maribel.
“Our logistics system is unbeatable. In that regard we profit from the worldwide business group behind Blue Origin, which has a lot of experience with strikes. Our employees are well-motivated, and the absentee rate is below 20 percent, which is comparable to a worldwide flu epidemic.”
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