by Greg Cox
As it happened, the planet was tilted toward them at about a twenty-six-degree angle, giving them a clear view of its north pole, where a distinctive honeycomb shape contained a colossal storm some forty thousand kilometers across. The hexagon had first been observed by Voyager 1 more than forty years ago, Shaun recalled. Scientists had been arguing about it ever since.
“One of the solar system’s odder natural wonders,” O’Herlihy observed, somewhat less emotionally than before. His deep voice had regained its cool, professorial tone. “Quite remarkable.”
“I don’t know,” Zoe said. “That doesn’t look natural at all to me. More like evidence of some arcane alien intelligence.”
O’Herlihy sighed; he had little patience for speculative pseudo-science. “Really, Zoe, you’re worse than my students. You need to rely less on the Internet and crackpot theories and more on actual scientific research.” He nodded at the view. “Although deceptively artificial in appearance, that vortex is nothing but an unusual storm formation created by rotational forces deep within the planet’s turbulent atmosphere.”
Zoe wasn’t convinced. “But look at it. A perfect geometric figure with six sides of exactly equal length, unchanged for decades? You’re telling me that just happened by accident?”
“The universe is a big place,” Shaun reminded her. “There’s time and space enough for all sorts of unlikely occurrences. Anything that can happen probably has.”
“Like mysterious alien science projects?” Zoe said. “Who knows? Maybe there’s some weird black monolith at the center of the hexagon.”
“Not on this space odyssey,” Shaun said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning to evolve into a higher form of life anytime soon.”
Zoe winked at him. “Speak for yourself.”
“Jesus,” Fontana said, exasperated. “You really don’t know when to give up, do you?”
“Would I be here if I did?”
“My point exactly.”
Shaun intervened before Saturn witnessed its first zero-gravity catfight. “In any event, I hope we’ll learn a lot more about that storm, and the rest of Saturn’s weather patterns, while we’re in the neighborhood.”
The plan was to settle into a polar orbit threading the planet’s rings and study Saturn and its moons for fourteen days before turning around and heading home. NASA expected them to accumulate enough data to keep scientists back on Earth occupied for years. With any luck, some of the data might actually explain the enigmatic hexagon once and for all.
“Indeed,” O’Herlihy said. “I’m looking forward to checking out the magnetometer readings on that storm, not to mention getting a close-up look at that comet.”
The comet was only a misty smudge in the distance at this point. In theory, it would be joining them any day now.
“This is where your work really starts,” Shaun said. O’Herlihy was the chief scientist on this mission; he would be taking center stage now. “I’m just glad we got you here in one piece.”
“I appreciate the smooth ride, Colonel,” O’Herlihy said. “My thanks to you and your esteemed copilot.”
“You’re welcome,” Shaun said. “Recommend us to your friends.”
“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Zoe waved her hand in the air to get their attention. “How about I take a snapshot of the three of you at this historic moment? Years from now, you can even pretend I wasn’t here.”
“Oh, I’m already doing that,” Fontana said. “Trust me.”
“Not a bad idea, though,” Shaun said. NASA had issued them a couple of digital cameras so they could capture candid moments of life aboard the ship. The public-relations folks intended to get plenty of mileage out of the photos later; there was even talk of a coffee-table book and a calendar. “Let’s do it.”
He retrieved a camera from a supply locker and flew it over to Zoe. There was no need to lob it to her in an arc; momentum carried it across the cabin in a straight line. She snatched it out of the air and backed up to get the three astronauts in her sights.
“Okay, then,” she said. “All together now, in front of the big pretty planet.”
The crew posed in front of the cockpit windows, their feet not touching the floor. They were literally walking on air. Fontana took the center spot, flanked by the two men.
“Squeeze together closer,” Zoe urged them. “C’mon, Skipper, put your arm around Fontana. Don’t be shy.”
Zoe gave Shaun a puckish smirk. He resisted the urge to glare back at her. That probably wouldn’t look good in the photos.
Smiling, he hugged Fontana and felt her own arm slip around his waist. She gave his hand a furtive squeeze and beamed at the camera. O’Herlihy leaned in from the other side of her.
“Perfect!” Zoe decreed. “Everybody say ‘hexagon.’”
“Hexagon!” they shouted in unison. A flash lit up the flight deck.
As Shaun recalled, they still had one bottle of champagne left.
“LIDAR still tracking the comet,” O’Herlihy reported. “It’s right on schedule.”
Today was Comet Day. The Lewis & Clark had been in a polar orbit around Saturn, perpendicular to the rings, for more than seventy-two hours. That was more than a week by Saturn time, since the planet rotated completely every ten hours or so, giving them numerous chances to observe both its eastern and western hemispheres. They were orbiting the planet at a distance of twenty thousand kilometers, which conveniently allowed them to pass through the Cassini Division without colliding with the rings. The ship’s hull was tough enough to withstand a few minor impacts, but nobody felt like tempting fate by plowing through the rings themselves.
Today, Saturn was just a backdrop, however. Their agenda was to observe the comet close-up and guide an unmanned probe to take samples of both its icy crust and its inner core. The probe, which had been christened Sacagawea, was already waiting outside the ship to intercept the comet. The goal was to land it on the comet’s surface so that it could transmit its findings back to the Lewis & Clark. Christopher and Fontana had spent most of yesterday launching it from the ship’s cargo bay.
Zoe drifted about the flight deck, staying more or less out of the way. “The comet’s not going to hit the rings, is it?”
“Not a chance,” Shaun said from the helm. “It’s going to swing past Saturn at a distance of about two hundred twenty-five thousand kilometers, well clear of the rings.”
“Too bad. That would have been quite a show.” Zoe floated over to one of the auxiliary consoles, where O’Herlihy was directing Sacagawea by remote control. She tapped the scientist on the shoulder. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Now that we’re here, what’s the story with the rings, anyway? Are they more or less wobbly than you expected?”
He looked up from his terminal with a slightly sheepish expression. “To be honest, my preliminary observations indicate that the rings do seem to be rather more… unstable than originally anticipated.”
This was news to Shaun. He had been focused for the last few days on getting the probe launched in time to intercept the comet. He had left the pure scientific research to O’Herlihy, on the assumption that it was way too early to draw any definitive conclusions from the data they had just started accumulating. Chances were, scientists would be chewing over the data for years to come.
“How unstable, Doc?” he asked.
“Hard to say,” O’Herlihy answered. “You have to remember, the rings have always been a dynamic system, full of troughs and waves and clumps. Some of the ringlets are even braided together, particularly out by the F Ring. The whole system is constantly in motion. Indeed, there’s reason to believe that the rings are a relatively new and temporary phenomenon, that they did not even exist a few hundred million years ago, when the early dinosaurs were first roaming the Earth, and that they may be gone for good millions of years from now.”
“And yet?” Shaun prompted him.
“Well, I’m hesitant to jump to any rash conclusions without further evidence
…”
Shaun grew impatient. “Enough with the obligatory disclaimers, Doc. I don’t want to wait for the peer-reviewed version. Cut to the chase.”
“All right,” the scientist said reluctantly, “but bear in mind that this is just off the cuff. I still need to collect more evidence and conduct a more detailed analysis.”
“Understood. But…?”
“The rings appear to be collapsing inward — at a steadily increasing rate. Debris from the outer rings is spiraling into the inner ones, whose orbits are gradually shrinking as well. The divisions between the rings are also narrowing, causing discrete rings to blur together much more than usual.”
Shaun wondered what this meant for their mission. “Is there any danger to the ship?”
“I shouldn’t think so. The ring matter is falling inward, toward the planet, not aiming at us, although I’m at a loss regarding what might be causing this or why it is happening now. Frankly, it’s quite unexpected… and more than a little baffling.”
“Told you.” Zoe gloated. “I knew there was more to that rings angle than you wanted to admit earlier.” She did a celebratory somersault in midair. “So, who is the crackpot conspiracy theorist now?”
“Watch your mouth, brat,” Fontana snarled from the copilot’s seat. “That’s a future Nobel Prize winner you’re talking to.”
“It’s all right, Alice,” O’Herlihy said. “Our guest has reason to feel vindicated… to a degree. These findings are a humbling reminder that we are in unknown territory out here and that the universe can still surprise us.”
Ordinarily, the scientist would have chided Zoe for letting her imagination run wild, but his response struck Shaun as uncharacteristically muted. He found that vaguely worrisome. When somebody like Marcus gave ground to Zoe, things were seriously out of whack.
“Still,” O’Herlihy continued, “I’m sure it’s just a temporary aberration, caused by the approach of the comet or some other factor. It’s bound to correct itself in time.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zoe challenged him. “That’s what they used to say about global warming. Tell that to the ice caps… or what’s left of them.”
Shaun scowled. Despite the scientist’s provisos, this sounded like something he needed to stay on top of. “I want daily reports on those rings from now on. Let me know if you think there’s even a chance that we might need to adjust our orbit to put more distance between ourselves and the rings.”
Their mission had been plotted and predicated on the fact that Saturn would act like Saturn, and so would its rings. He recalled O’Herlihy’s earlier description, months ago, of the rings as roiling rivers, complete with dangerous currents, eddies, and other hazards. Granted, the rings were only about half a kilometer thick on average, and the Lewis & Clark had been built to withstand random micrometeoroid strikes, but Shaun was in no hurry to ride the rapids.
“Will do,” O’Herlihy assured him. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
“I like hearing you say that, Doc.” Shaun turned his attention back to the day’s agenda. “Let’s just hope our cometary friend doesn’t surprise us, too.”
“Shh!” Zoe held a finger to her lips. “Don’t jinx us.”
“Says the jinx herself,” Fontana muttered. She kept her eye on the view out the cockpit windows. “And they used to say comets were bad luck…”
The comet, designated C/2018-G2, had been visible for days as a faint white smudge in the distance, but it was growing clearer as it approached them. This far out from the sun, the comet had not melted enough to give it a truly impressive tail, yet it was already recognizable as a comet. A cloud of dusty vapor, known as the coma, formed an atmosphere around the comet’s nucleus, while a misty white stream trailed behind it, pointing away from the sun, whose solar winds created the tail by blowing the ionized comet material away from it. C/2018 was extremely small by cometary standards, its nucleus barely more than a hundred meters across, yet its tail already stretched for thousands of kilometers. The comet’s path was not expected to bring it anywhere near Earth, so this was their best chance to get a good look at it.
Like most comets, it was probably just a large, dirty snowball from the outer reaches of the solar system, but who knew where exactly C/2018 had been and what secrets it might hold? Past comets had been found to contain complex organic compounds, including amino acids. Nobody had discovered life on a comet yet, but the possibility was there. If nothing else, Sacagawea might provide clues to determine whether C/2018 was from the Kuiper Belt, the Oort Cloud, or someplace farther out in space. It might even prove to be that rare comet that was just passing through the solar system on its way out to interstellar space. If it was on a truly hyperbolic orbit, it might never pass this way again.
All the more reason to check it out when we can, Shaun thought. “You set, Doc?”
“Sacagawea is in position,” O’Herlihy reported. “No orbital adjustments appear to be needed at this time. It should intercept C/2018 in approximately eighty-five minutes. We can initiate landing procedures then, assuming that — what the devil?”
Before their eyes, the comet suddenly veered to the left.
“Crap!” Fontana exclaimed. “Is it supposed to be able to do that?”
“No!” O’Herlihy frantically worked the LIDAR controls, trying to keep it locked on the detouring comet. “It was following a standard elliptical orbit, more or less. This should not be happening!”
Zoe flew toward the windows for a better look. She typed more notes into her tablet, then held it up to take a picture. “Holy cow. This trip is getting better and better.”
Shaun was glad somebody felt that way. For himself, he was getting tired of the impossible biting them in the butt. “Talk to me, Doc. What the hell is that thing doing?”
“It’s changing course, away from Sacagawea, and slowing down.” The shocked scientist stared at his monitors. “It’s heading in toward the planet, avoiding the rings.” He shook his head, looking even more flabbergasted than when he had detected the stowaway aboard. Awe reduced his voice to a whisper. “It’s not behaving like a proper comet at all, more like…”
“A UFO?” Zoe winked at Shaun. “What do you think, Skipper? Friends of your dad?”
Fontana look askance at Shaun. “You told her about that?” She knew what Zoe was referring to, of course. Shaun had shared that colorful bit of family history with Fontana back when they were dating. “Don’t be ridiculous,” the copilot snapped at Zoe. “There must be a sensible explanation for this.”
“Like what?” Zoe asked.
Fontana groped for a response. “Maybe the same thing that’s affecting the rings?”
Whatever that is, Shaun thought, scowling. He wanted answers, not more mysteries. “Where is it heading, Doc?”
“It seems to be heading for… the north pole of the planet.”
“You mean the hexagon,” Zoe said.
“Possibly,” O’Herlihy admitted, with a distinctly pained expression. “At least, that general vicinity.”
Zoe let go of her tablet, which remained floating within reach, and rubbed her hands together gleefully. “The plot thickens.”
“Tell me about it,” Shaun said. Their carefully planned operation, meticulously worked out by NASA and its international partners, had just gone out the proverbial window. Sacagawea, waiting in orbit for its celestial rendezvous, had been stood up. C/2018 had ditched them, almost as though it was on a mission of its own. Careful, he warned himself, you’re starting to think like Zoe.
But maybe that wasn’t entirely a bad idea. Their mission had just gotten a whole lot stranger and more exciting. Perhaps it was time to start thinking outside the box.
“Set a course for the north pole,” he instructed. “We’re going after that comet.”
Fontana stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “But that’s not part of the mission plan.”
He couldn’t blame her for being startled. NASA flights were not improvised. Every t
ask and maneuver had been plotted out months, if not years, in advance, especially where dangerous new objectives were concerned. Hell, there had been ten trial runs before Apollo 11 had finally touched down on the moon. Space was no place to fly by the seat of your pants — except when something truly unpredictable happened.
“Screw the mission plan.” He switched off the automatic pilot. “We’re not robots, following a programmed script. What’s the point of sending actual flesh-and-blood humans into space if we can’t react to unexpected circumstances and take advantage of amazing new opportunities?”
“Woo-hoo!” Zoe cheered him on. “You tell ’em, Skipper.”
“Hush!” Fontana said. “The grown-ups are talking.” She gave him a worried look. “I don’t know, Shaun. Maybe we should run this by Mission Control first.”
“There’s no time for that,” Shaun said. Radio waves traveled at the speed of light through the vacuum of space, but there was still more than an hour’s time lag when it came to communicating with Earth, and that wasn’t even figuring in the bureaucracy factor. “That comet — or whatever it is — is going somewhere. I don’t want it to get away while they’re holding conferences back home.” He looked her in the eyes, struck as always by their brilliant green depths. “I don’t know about you, Alice, but I want to know what that so-called comet is.”
“You think I don’t?” She searched his face. “You really think this might be a UFO, Shaun?”
“To be honest, I don’t know what to think.” He toyed with the dog tags around his neck. “Like the doc said, we’re in unknown territory here.”
“Well, that’s the job description, isn’t it?” Fontana sighed and settled back into her seat. He recognized the determined set of her jaw. “All right. Let’s go find out what’s driving that puppy.”
Shaun turned toward O’Herlihy. This decision could have an enormous, and possibly catastrophic, effect on their careers. They could even be risking their lives. He needed to make sure his whole crew was okay with it. “Marcus?”