Love and Other Metals

by K. P. Redmond

  “Welcome aboard the Allgood everyone,” says the captain. “Not everyone here has sailed with us before so we’ll begin with introductions.” A few long strands of gray hair have broken free from her bun and float above her, backlit from the windows, making her look both angelic and devilish at the same time.

  “I am the captain of this vessel. My name is Freya Jemison and I was born in Nittedal, Norway. I flew for the Royal Norwegian Air Force, later became a commercial spacecraft pilot. That’s how I joined up with the Consortium.” She pauses. There is no sound except the quiet rushing of the ventilation system and the slow swooshing of the carousel amidships.

  “You may know that I was one of original founders of Shacktown, after the Alliance decided to cut the budget on the Big Scope and put the facility up for sale. So yes, I am that old. I am a grandmother. But I am not your grandmother. By law I am the master of this ship. I expect your obedience. No questions, no hesitation, no exceptions. In return I promise to get you safely to our target and back to your homes.” Finally, a small tight smile. “And if things go well, we will all make a handsome profit. Now let’s go around and introduce ourselves. Start with you, First Officer,” she says, nodding to Nastez.

  “Aye Captain. I’m First Officer, and as you all know by now my name is Nastez, Alonso Nastez. I was born on in a suburb of Boston and am a graduate of both Harvard and MIT. I currently live in Shackleton with my wife and two children, both girls.”

  I unconsciously smile; he just seems a mite too spiffy for Shacktown. But I catch myself and stifle it quickly. Any officer can make your life hell if he decides he don’t like you, so I’m told. And Nastez has already given me the stink eye.

  “I started as a lunar geologist and moved on to asteroids a few years back when that became the hot new thing. That led me to my current position in the Corps. I have a PHD in this field, so some people call me Doctor Nastez, but to you I’m First Officer. I’ll do the analysis work as we get closer to our target, but it’s also my job to run the crew for the captain. You will provide your best work at all times. There will be no sloppiness; this is a spaceship: people can die here. Next.”

  The young woman who had guided me at the hanger clears her throat. With her helmet off I can see she’s not much older than me. Her dark hair is striking against her pale skin and light eyes. She has to push a bit to make her quiet voice heard over the background noise; I strain to understand her. “Hello,” she says. “My name is Katya Navolska, third in command, so I’m formally Second Officer Navolska but I guess you can just call me Katya unless the Captain or Officer Nastez object.”

  She looks sheepishly over at the other officers but they give her no feedback, verbal or otherwise. She continues, a little unsure. “I was born and raised on Luna; my parents immigrated to Tycho from Ukraine on the big planet. My primary job is ship’s engineer, although like everybody else I do a whole lot of other things. I am a medic first class, so let’s say if you need something for a stuffy nose, and that’s pretty common, I got a stash. And I’m happy to share.”

  That got her a smile from the jock. “If something breaks let me know. I know where all the tools are and how to use them. Last thing—I hate dust. Don’t bring dust on this ship. We’ll be covering that in the training exercises on the trip out for the Spaceman Apprentice and Recruit.” She shrugs. “That’s all for me.”

  I look over at the other guy in khakis; he looks back at me. I guess he’s next in the pecking order and he apparently thinks so too. He lets himself drift a little more towards the center of the semicircle of people, halfway blocking my view of the others. “Hello, I’m Louis, Louis O’Neill. This is my second trip so my rank is Spaceman Apprentice, but it’s my first trip on the Allgood. I just want to say that I’m real happy to be part of this crew, and I am especially honored to serve under you, Captain Jemison.”

  He looks hopefully at the captain. Her expression does not change. “Um…so like I said I’m the Apprentice. I’m four years out of Tycho high school, where I was president of the student body and captain of the tunnel-soccer team. I like play lo-G roller hockey whenever I get the chance. I really like staying in shape and being in space and I think I’ve really getting the hang of moving around in weightlessness like a real spacer.”

  Louis smiles and looks over at Katya, who acknowledges his look with a wan smile. There’s something going on between those two but I decide right away I’m gonna stay out of it best I can. “Anyhow I guess that’s all I got to say. Any questions about me?”

  Officer Nastez frowns and tilts his head, looks around at the others. “Apparently not. Thank you Apprentice O’Neill.” He looks my way with unblinking eyes.

  Oh crap—it’s my turn. Louis drifts back into the semicircle, which means I’m no longer looking at his butt but also means everyone can see me. There are few things I hate more than talking about myself. I take off my helmet like the others and push down my hair, which comes off kinda awkward because I’m also trying to hold on to a table to keep myself from floating away.

  “Um. OK. I’m Straker Yuuta,” I say. “I just graduated high school a few days…two lunar days ago; so it’s been two months by Earth timing I reckon. I’ve been working as a water miner off and on but I been taking Corps training for a year. Um, maybe I’ll go to college over at Tycho, I don’t know, but for now I want to give the Corps a try. I’m here to learn.” I honestly can’t think of nothing else to say. I know I sound stupid but I don’t talk enough to be good at it. The deck is dead silent. It is excruciating.

  I’m about to end my little speech when Nastez pipes up. “Wearing the bracelet I see. Heard from your dad, Recruit?”

  My face flushes. I look over at him, not knowing how to react. Louis is whispering to Katya. The captain cuts in. “Hiromi Yuuta is not a part of this crew.” She pauses; the mess deck is silent again. “And Straker is not responsible for what his father did. Each of you will maintain proper decorum and respect for all crewmates. That is all.” She flashes a disapproving look at Nastez, then releases her boots from the floor and pulls herself off to the flight deck with practiced ease.

  I been on this ship only a few minutes and already the crap is flying about Pops. Ain’t that the way it always is? I was hoping to get away from it for a while. If signing on to a mining ship don’t give me a clean slate, what will?

  Nastez steps forward in his sticky boots. “All right. We are on ship’s time as of now. The watch schedule is posted outside the pivot room and it will be broadcast to your wrist instruments. Next will be evening watch, starts at 1730 hours: one bell will sound. Two teams: Second Officer Navolska and Apprentice O’Neill are Green Team; you will take the next watch. Red team is myself and Recruit Yuuta. Captain stands watch by herself for now.”

  Louis O’Neill is looking plenty pleased with himself. He’s on watch with Katya Navolska. Apparently he finds the thought of spending time with her agreeable. He’s trying to be subtle but he ain’t good at it; his face is beaming.

  “A couple of things,” continues Nastez. “When you hear the Klaxon horn it means that the main thrusters are going to fire. You hear that, you grab on to something.” Nastez presses a yellow button on the control panel and the distinctive aoooga sound reverberates through the ship, accompanied by flashing yellow from the situation lights.

  The sound makes me forget my embarrassment. It reminds me of the old submarine movie Run Silent Run Deep, which I’ve watched I think three times. Das Boot is another good one. Growing up in space gives you an empathy for submariners since they, like you, spend their lives inside one kind of metal can or other. But mostly I like watching the movies because of all the water. Just incredible.

  “The acceleration from the main thrusters will only be about a quarter-G, but it will knock you off balance if you’re not prepped,” he continued. “We will not need to use the main thrusters more than a couple of times a week, but the first burn is in a few minutes and it will be a long one. The other sound you need to w
orry about, is this one.” He presses a separate button, this one red, and a loud, frantic gong sounds, so loud I plug my ears with my fingers. The lights on the bulkheads flash red this time. Thankfully, he only keeps that going for a quick burst.

  “That sound means drop what you are doing immediately and head for the redoubt right away. This sound means we’ve detected a rock or a group of rocks on a collision course. As you know meteor showers can puncture the ship’s hull in a microsecond. The redoubt is the area of maximum reinforcement and safety. Or the alarm may sound because of an impending solar storm. Usually we have enough warning of those that we don’t need to hit the alarm, in which case we’ll just announce it on the intercom.”

  Nastez drones on with his instructions, reading from a pad. He takes questions, and finally winds it up with: “Go find your quarters, stow your gear, and report for your scheduled watch. There will be more to come. Mission briefing at start of mid-watch. Dismissed.”

  Everyone’s talking and grabbing their stuff. I wait for the butts and elbows to clear the mess deck, then grab my own bags. They’re a whole lot lighter than they were on Luna but even more ungainly. I check my wristy—it knows where my bunk is. I head aft to the pivot room and wait for the door to Carousel B to come around. I enter the spoke and turn feet first, putting my feet lightly a platform on the elevator belt, sticking my forearm through one of the hand-holds.

  I ain’t accustomed to zero-G so I don’t move around as gracefully as the others, but I manage to enter the moving spoke on the first try. Riding the elevator is boring and takes a while; it goes slow and the spoke is long. Even though I weigh nothing at first, as I go down I get heavier and so do the bags. It’s a strange feeling.

  Eventually I get to the carousel and wander the short, narrow hallway until I find my chamber. It’s just a bunk with a light and a storage cabinet, but it has a pocket door that I can shut for privacy. It ain’t much worse than my cell in bachelor’s quarters back at Shacktown.

  I close the door and put my bags on the bunk. They stay there. It’s nice to be in gravity again. But, I’m careful how I move around—I don’t want to get sick. A carousel only makes pseudo-gravity and if you’re not careful your inner ear can go cattywonkus and you can spew. They say you get used to it.

  I have six hours before I’m on watch so I better sleep. I hear the Klaxon and feel the throbbing of the big engines taking us out of orbit. The gentle acceleration pushes me on the bunk against the wall. I unzip my personal bag and pull out my meds bottle. I pop a pill that should keep me from getting nauseous and help me sleep.

  The meds are real. The bottle ain’t, but you’d have to look at it mighty close to tell. I tap the code onto the bottle that I’ve been told to use when we leave orbit. I can only hope Marshal Baumann’s people get it; there’s no way I can be sure. But they have satellites listening for me and they must know what they’re doing.

  While I’m at it, I log into the ship’s servers and find out how to send a message home. I put together a note for Macy and Mason back at the Children’s Home, trying to sound as excited and upbeat as possible. Mostly I want them to know that I haven’t forgotten them. I remember how lonely that place can be. I feel a pang of guilt for leaving them, but on the other hand I know there’s not much I can do for them anyways.

  After I send the message, I stow all the stuff except for my guitar. I sit cross-legged on the bunk with the guitar on my lap and put on the headset from my wristy. The guitar don’t make much sound of its own so I hear it better when I use the headset. I pluck the strings slowly. I feel my shoulders relaxing; I feel my mind clearing.

  Tomorrow will start my new routine in the company of total strangers. I’ll be with them for months. I’m feeling a mite apprehensive. But my guitar is my sword and my armor. I chills me down as I play it over the muffled roar of the engines. I wait for sleep.

  “This is our target,” announces the captain. She points to the display on the bulkhead behind her. The image is fuzzy, obviously taken from very far away. It’s a sphere, unlike many asteroids that are shaped like a banana or a peanut or somesuch. The stroid has been banged around a good bit judging by the pockmarks on its surface. In fact, it looks like a much smaller version of Luna with a slightly darker color.

  “The Big Scope discovered it only a few weeks ago,” she continues, “and we believe we’re the only ones who know about it. The provisional name is Hrothgar, although Doctor Nastez has thus far declined to register it officially.” She nods to Nastez.

  Nastez clears his throat. “This mission is turning out to be quite possibly the most rewarding for the Allgood to date. Hrothgar was a legendary Danish king who showered the hero Beowulf and his men with great treasures after he defeated the monster Grendel. I expect that this asteroid will reward us in a similar manner. Hrothgar is classified as an ‘ordinary chondrite’ asteroid and judging by the spectral analysis and other techniques we’ve developed, it appears to be, by far, the richest body we’ve ever encountered.”

  Katya speaks up. “Why haven’t you registered it?”

  “Because we don’t trust the provisional government to keep our secrets,” replies Nastez. “Registering requires us to reveal what we know about the target. Past history has led the captain and myself to believe that it is in our best interest to keep a low profile and simply get there first.”

  Louis raises his hand. “So, what’s it made of?”

  Nastez replies in his professor’s monotone: “Near infrared spectroscopy indicates iron and nickel for the most part, platinum-group metals almost certain, carbon, and hopefully some water, although we won’t know the proportions until we get close enough to send a drone.”

  “Which is both good and bad,” says the captain. “It means a big dollar haul for us. Iron and Nickel get high prices, platinum metals even more. But if there’s not much water; that will set the amount of time we can spend there. Our delta-V, and therefore our ability to return, will be limited to the amount of water we have on board.”

  “Since water is our fuel!” says Louis. Always eager.

  “Yes,” continued the captain, “in a manner of speaking. We’ll have to work extra-long shifts to harvest as much metal as we can in the shortest possible time.”

  Nastez breaks in: “We have had some trouble determining Hrothgar’s orbit but we believe it will be about a 2-month trip out. We will rendezvous and ride it for a few weeks, mine it until its closest approach to Luna, then get off at the latest possible window. By then our cargo holds should be full.”

  There’s some small talk, then Katya interrupts. “You said there was a problem figuring the orbit?” she asks.

  “Yea,” replies Nastez, “we have some inexplicable bugs in the software I’m afraid. We’ve reported the problem to our people; it’s being looked at.”

  “Can you tell us more?” Her eyebrows are peaked—the inquisitive engineer. Louis is looking at her like she’s the center of the universe; it’s obvious he’s more interested in her than in the software or the mission. She, on the other hand, is ignoring him. On purpose I think.

  Nastez continues with an amused expression. “Well, it’s a problem in the analysis software we haven’t seen before, but you know how that goes Katya. Remember we’re looking at this thing over an incredible distance; it’s at the limits of what even the Big Scope can see. The software extrapolates speed and direction from successively timed sightings. At first it was saying that Hrothgar was approaching at about a quarter the speed of light. That was, of course, absurd. Later sightings proved it to be moving at a more realistic speed.”

  “But we know enough to land on it?”

  “Well, we know its trajectory but it’s unlike anything we’ve seen before. We believe its origin to be quite distant—from beyond the planets, beyond the Kuiper Belt. Its orbit is vast, so it’s going to take time for fully characterize it. We know just enough to begin the mission and landing should be straightforward.”

  More chatter among N
astez, Louis, and Katya. The captain chimes in. “It’s now first bell. Red team is on Mid-Watch. The rest of you can go on to your other duties. Complete information about Hrothgar—at least as much as we have—is now available for access on the ship’s servers, so you can learn more as you have time. And remember, information about the target is proprietary. It’s not to be discussed with the folks at home. That is all.”

  Everyone scatters goes about their business. I look out at the blackness outside the windows and just think about what I’ve heard. This thing is coming at us from so far away, and we’re going to go and land on it. I know that’s what I signed up for but somehow growing up in Shacktown I’ve taken so much for granted. It seemed so ordinary until I actually signed on to a mission. Thinking about it gives me chills; I rub my arms to chase them away. In spite of myself I can’t wait to strap on a suit and explore this thing. What will I see? What is out there?

  Katya grabs my arm and I pop out of my dream state. “You look lost,” she says.

  “Um, I was just thinking about it…all of it.” I shrug.

  “I know that feeling,” she says, “I still get it.” She looks at the window with me. “These voyages—the asteroid trips—are still pretty new. There’s so much out there and people are just beginning to travel serious distances from cislunar. No telling where it will lead.” She pulls back and looks at me. “But nobody’s going anywhere without the stuff we bring back. Iron, nickel, and water…that’s what makes it all happen. C’mon, lets head to the flight deck, I’ll show you around.”

  We duck through the open hatch onto the flight deck. It’s just me and her and the computers that drive the ship. The cockpit is roomy and Spartan but just lit up enough that you can find your way around. The thick front windows and the starry scene beyond dominate the far bulkhead. Display films are arranged throughout the cabin to give the illusion of transparent walls. I feel like I’m standing out on a platform in space. It gives me the willies at first but I get over it.