“Inflatable habitat?”
“Yeah, it’s going to provide us a pretty big living and working space out there. We had it assembled down here on earth and stuffed it in the big plane to take it up there. We’re going to put it next to the steel box you guys are building to give us a place for people to live and work out there. First though, we’ve got to get it out of the spaceplane so we can try to blow it up.”
“When will it be here?” Carter asked, thinking it was weird to say “here” for the location of his Waldo in space when he himself was actually sitting in a control saddle right there in the D5R facility.
“It’s there, if you aren’t seeing it, you must be facing the wrong direction.”
Carter snapped the welder back to his torso and twisted in the control saddle to activate the jets that would turn his waldo around.
Then he gaped. “Holy crap!” he breathed. A 747 hung in space not far behind him! The big planes were mostly out of service, replaced by lighter, more fuel efficient jets, but Carter was an aviation enthusiast and it was recognizable to him by its bulbous front end. His initial reaction was to wonder how it could have snuck up on him, but of course there was no sound in a vacuum.
As he stared, a puff of gas came from a ring around the nose. Then the nose began hinging up to expose the central cargo cavity. “Hey, Alex,” he said, “Turn around. You’re not gonna believe this…”
Carter and his team gradually flew their waldoes over to the front end of the 747. The nose piece mostly covered the cockpit windows but he could still see the pilots inside staring out at him. Inside the cavernous cargo area was what looked like huge wads of synthetic cloth, completely filling the cargo cavity. “Uh, Mr. Stavos?”
“I hope you aren’t going to tell me you can’t get it out of there?”
“Uh, well I’m concerned. It looks partially inflated. Did it completely fill the cavity wall to wall when it took off?”
“Uh, no. Let me look at the cargo compartment cameras… Damn! We’d pumped the air out of it through the ports inside the habitat. When it left down here it was pretty flat and had one to two feet of space around it, top and sides. Not underneath, of course.”
“I don’t think you pumped enough air out. Now that it’s exposed to the vacuum of space it’s expanded a little and looks like it’s filling the cavity pretty tightly. I’ll give it a tug.” After a moment Carter said, “It doesn’t budge. Admittedly it’s huge but, if it weren’t stuck I’d think it would have moved a little. Did you actually pump it out or did you hook it up to a port out here in the vacuum of space?”
Stavos breathed, “Damn! I can’t believe we used pumps to try to empty it when we could have just hooked it up to a port out there!”
“I think you’re going to have to hook it up to space somehow to get enough air out of it for us to pull it out of the plane.”
“OK, we’ll work on it, but we’ve got a lot of ports in the habitat and in the different layers of the outer wall. It could take a while. We’ve actually got a lot of ports that open to space in various locations around the solar system but right now we’re limited in the number of airtight connectors we can use to join them. Can you guys see the airlock? It’s supposed to be on the end that you’re looking at.”
“We see part of a large metal device.”
“OK, see if you can open it.”
“OK,” Carter said dubiously, jetting that way. “Doesn’t it have some kind of safety interlock to keep both doors from being open at the same time?”
“Oh, probably. I’m seeing if my AI can override… No it can’t. Damn, it looks like the guys flying the plane are going to be out there for a while.”
Carter said, “I think you need to close and pressurize the cargo hold. The pressure will squeeze the remaining air out of the habitat faster.”
“Oh, yeah, good idea. Let me know when your waldoes are clear of the opening.”
“OK, we’ll get back to welding that steel box together,” Carter said starting to jet back toward it and waving the other three waldoes to follow. “Let us know when you’re ready for us to try to pull it out again.”
They’d welded two more plates into place when Stavos said, “Carter, we think we’re ready for you to try it again. We’ve depressurized the hold and the habitat looks loose.”
Carter took his team over. First they tried to pull the habitat out but they had a hard time because they didn’t have much to pull against. The magnetic bases of the waldoes wouldn’t attach to the aluminum frame of the 747 so they had to hold on to the habitat with one hand and the aircraft with the other. Carter considered flying the waldo along the side of the habitat to the other end of the cargo bay and using his waldo’s jets to push the habitat out but the habitat was soft enough in its deflated state that he was afraid it would just mushroom out as he pushed. If it mushroomed up until it was up against the walls the friction could make it hard to move again. Then he realized that once that happened, the air from his jets would build up in the compartment behind the habitat and help push it out. He and Alex flew to the back of the cargo compartment and started pushing. Sure enough the habitat did mushroom. Once Cshrs toit had done that, Carter asked Stavos to open the ports that pressurized the cargo compartment. The air filling the compartment started pushing the habitat out into the vacuum faster and faster. A few minutes later it puffed out into space.
The 747 began pulling away. The waldo team flew around to the other side, gripped the habitat and relinquished control of their jets to their AIs. The AIs then coordinated and used their jets in combination to adjust the position of the habitat until it was stationary relative to the steel box they’d been building. Carter and his team took a break while that was being done.
When Carter once again took control of his waldo and backed it away, the habitat looked different. He realized it had already enlarged a little. They must be pouring air in to fill the central cavity. He supposed that water must be flooding into the outer walls too since Stavos had said that water would provide their radiation shielding and thermal equilibrium.
***
Fladwami spoke to his AI, “See if you can get Donsaii on the line.”
A moment later he heard her voice. It sounded raspy and flat, “Yes, Dr. Fladwami?”
“Hello, I was calling for an update on some things… Is this not a good time?”
“No… go ahead,” she said, an ineffable sense of sadness pervading her words.
With a sense that he might be interrupting a funeral, Fladwami considered just insisting that he call back at a later time. But what would he give as a reason? Finally he said, “Is there anything new on Tau Ceti? Have the publications been submitted?”
“No sir, the authors haven’t completed their manuscripts yet. Well one has, the other two are procrastinators.”
“OK, I’ve looked through the rough summary you sent me. It doesn’t look like there are any major technological advances or ‘dangerous’ knowledge that will result from your observations there?”
“Not that I see sir.”
“Have you found life elsewhere?”
“Primitive life at Alpha Centauri, probably not multicellular. Dead worlds at Epsilon Eridani and 40 Eridani A.”
“Those are the stars you’ve sent missions to so far?”
Her voice still flat, she said, “Pretty much.”
His eyes narrowed, “Pretty much?”
“We’ve sent some other missions, but those arrived very far from their target stars. Because of the distance remaining, those rockets are still in transit to their target planets, so we don’t really know what’s going on in those systems yet.”
“OK, I assume you’ll update me when you do know. Next I’d like to ask about the ‘one ended’ ports. I’m concerned about weaponization?”
C wi know. “Yes, you’re right to be concerned, but we can only make them to open at distances of less than 5mm or greater than one AU. The short distance ones will be useful in medicine for re
latively painless delivery of medications but of course could be used for toxins as well. I would point out that this really wouldn’t work much better than poisoning someone with a needle.”
“And with the other range being no less than one AU, it couldn’t be used as a weapon against anyone here on earth?”
“Well, yes, and remember that even if you tried to attack from more than an AU away, with an AU being 93 million miles, that the plus or minus 10% inaccuracy, means that you’d usually miss your target—by as much as 9 million miles. Not great for a weapon.”
“OK, that puts my mind at ease some. I have one further item to discuss?”
“Go ahead,” she said, still in a monotone.
He wondered if she had a migraine. “The FBI and FedEx intercepted a package addressed to the White House from a false Atlanta address a while back. It contained a port and we believe it was the first real attempt to carry out an attack of terrorism using your ports. We’re wondering what can be done to limit such attacks?”
To Fladwami’s astonishment she proceeded to list multiple strategies that Portal Tech was already implementing to make the use of portals for terrorism difficult, though of course, not impossible. “Of course,” she said, “we could try to stuff the genie back in the bottle but, on balance the ports seem to be a positive force in the world.”
“Agreed. But, we’re thinking that it would be good to have an FBI liaison to your company that could help with investigations of crimes, and of terrorism, perhaps help to brainstorm on prevention?”
“Of course, send someone by. I’ll let Portal Tech know they’re coming.”
After she signed off, Fladwami sat pulling on his lip, worried that something terrible had happened to Donsaii. He hoped not. Eventually he checked the time on his HUD. He got up and headed for the Oval Office.
President David Flood looked up as Fladwami was shown into his office. “Hey Kant.” He leaned back, “What’s shaking in the world of science?”
“Well, Ms. Donsaii… uh, I guess that’d be Dr. Donsaii, NCSU awarded her that doctorate for her work there. Anyway, Donsaii is going to shake up our world again.”
Flood grimaced, “OK, who’s gonna be pissed off this time?”
Fladwami looked blank a moment, “Oh, no, no economic upheavals this time. Some religious groups might be upset. She’s discovered primitive but intelligent aliens on the third planet of Tau Ceti.”
The President sat bolt upright and narrowed his eyes. “Too primitive to attack us?”
“Yes sir.”
Flood sagged back in his chair and closed his eyes, “Well, that’s fascinat C’k in ing and… aw crap. This’ll bite us on the ass somehow won’t it?”
“It shouldn’t, but, yes sir, I imagine it will.”
“OK,” he sighed, “Tell me about them…”
***
Emma knocked on the door to Ell’s office. A door that had seldom been shut in the past but had been closed almost constantly over the last three days. At a grunt from inside she pushed it open.
“I said, wait a minute,” Ell mumbled, dabbing at red eyes and wiping her nose.
Emma stepped inside closed the door and sat down across from her friend saying nothing, just resting her eyes on the distraught young woman. “Hey,” she finally said.
“Hey yourself. What can I do for you?”
Quietly Emma said, “Quit beating yourself up. You saved Shelly’s life, you tried to keep that gun from hurting anyone else. No one could have done better… Everyone but you thinks you’re a hero!”
“I tell myself that too, but I keep feeling that there must have been something…” She sighed, “It keeps replaying in my mind and in my nightmares… Oh Emma, I can’t get my freaking mind off of it!”
Emma stood and dragged her chair around to Ell’s side of the desk. The small office was cramped so it was difficult, but she got it there, then sat down and awkwardly leaned forward, putting her arms around Ell. After hugging her for a while she said, “Have you thought about going somewhere with Shan for a vacation? You could use one.”
Ell sniffed, “I think it’d be even worse. Nothing else to think about except how I failed John. Poor Shan; just got me for a girlfriend and now I’ve turned into this emotional wreck.”
Emma drew her head back and said, “I’m not going to tell you not to feel bad, ‘cause I know that doesn’t work. I am going to mention that everyone that was there that night thinks you were amazing and that you did just the right thing. They believe with all their hearts that no one but you could have saved Shelly and no one else blames you for what happened to John.”
“Thanks,” Ell whispered burying her head in the crook of Emma’s neck.
After a bit Emma leaned back and said, “Can I offer a suggestion?”
Ell picked up a Kleenex, said “Sure,” and blew her nose.
“John said you’d told him that the company would help him make a prosthetic hand based on the waldo arms?”
Ell nodded.
“We could really use your help figuring it out. John’s here talking to us about his ideas for how he wants it to work. He’s heard about Ryan’s neurotrodes and wants to be a guinea pig Ca gpanfor them. But even if we can get John’s surgeon to implant experimental neurotrodes, there are huge issues with interpreting the motor signals and inputting sensory signals. I think you could really make a difference. Besides, I think actively helping him create the best prosthesis he can possibly have, would help you get your mind off how you think you let John down.”
Ell tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yeah, sorting out what all the impulses mean and converting them into commands will be a real problem won’t it?”
Emma nodded.
Ell wiped her nose and got up. “Let’s go look at the issues together.”
Emma put her hand up in a halting motion, “First, let’s fix your hair.”
They found John dispiritedly hefting the forearm from one of the waldoes with his good left hand. Ell’s eyes immediately darted to the empty sleeve on his other arm. “Hi, John,” she said quietly.
“Hey. I’m having second thoughts about these waldo arms. They’re really heavy, I had no idea just how heavy.”
Ell picked it up. “Oof, that is heavy. I’m sure it would be awful carrying that around all day.” She tilted her head, “It doesn’t seem like it should have to be that heavy. Let’s open it up and see what’s inside.”
“OK.”
In short order they had a power screwdriver and were removing the outer shell. Inside the forearm they found motors. Lots of motors. Removing the palm they found that cables from the motors in the forearm went up, through the palm and into the fingers. The motors wound up the cables and the cables pulled the fingers down and around into a grasping motion. More motors and cables in the back of the forearm pulled the fingers back out to open the hand.
Ell stared the arms insides for a bit then said, “I think a lot of that is stainless steel. It doesn’t look like they were striving for low weight when they designed the waldoes. They were probably shooting for durability and low cost.”
“Why put the motors in the forearm and run everything with cables instead of having motors at each joint?”
“That’s the way our flesh and blood hands work. Most of the muscles are in the forearm pulling on tendons—which are like the cables—that go out to the fingers and pull them into position.”
Ell leaned in closer to look at the hand, “Especially to make a hand for John, it will probably be easier to adjust to his neural responses if it works, as much as possible, the same way as a normal hand. That way we can just have the neurons that normally contract a muscle activate the motor that pulls on the cable that replicates what that muscle normally does.”
Roger said, “We need some way to pull the cables without having all those heavy motors.”
Ell slowly raised her eyes to look up at him. Lik Cp a havie a light dawning she developed more and more of a surprised and astoni
shed look, “My God! How could I not have thought of this before? We’ve been working with ports three years plus now!” She glanced around at the others, “We just put a drive shaft through a port to supply power. Leave the motor back home!” She smacked her forehead with her palm, “We should be doing that with practically all mobile motors. Cars, planes, helicopters. None of them should be hauling the weight of their motors around with them!”
The rest of the little group stared at her. Manuel said, “Damn, it’s so obvious now that you said it!”
Emma said, “As usual, great ideas are obvious in retrospect.”
John said, “Couldn’t we just pass the cables through ports? Then the arm wouldn’t even have to have the pulleys that wind up the cables inside of it.”
Ell’s eyes widened, “Oh yeah, great idea John!”
John grinned, “I’d high five you guys, but…” he shrugged and waved his empty sleeve around.
A moment passed while everyone tried to decide whether he meant it as a joke or whether they should be appalled. But then he grinned at them and they broke into a laugh.
“Treat me normally, guys,” he said, “you’re going to build me a great hand and I don’t want you dancing around worried that you might offend me.”
Emma frowned, “Do you mean, treat you like we would a normal human, or treat you like we’d normally treat a weird dude like you?”
He snorted as the group laughed, “Hah, I thought it would take longer than that for you to start giving me shit. I think I’d like it better if you were still on tenterhooks around me.”
“Oh, hell no! You’ve given us permission, now you’re going to have to suck it up and take the crap as we dish it out.”
Ell watched this interchange with raised eyebrows, partly appalled and partly relieved. “Uh… back on task? Seems like we need to buy the design files for the waldo hands. That way we won’t have to reinvent the wheel from the ground up. Then we modify them as needed in order to size a hand correctly for John and create one that has four fingers instead of an index and a mitten paddle. To get the weight down further we need an engineer to tell us which parts we can make out of titanium and which ones we can make out of carbon fiber. We might be able to hire the engineering from the company that makes the waldoes in the first place. Using a braided polymer instead of cables will save weight, but we need to find out which polymer will best tolerate the wear from rubbing up against the sleeves they feed through. We also need more and smaller sensors on John’s hand than there are on the waldo hands. Oh and temperature sensors too.”
Habitats Page 10