Titan Cruel Moon

by Kate Rauner

  Olsen yanked his flier vertical, cut power to the blower, and floated gently down. "Hey, maybe the robots did some work after all." The decabots stood perfectly still beside the splayed-out dome. Its tunnel stubs lay extended and one was welded to the appropriate stub on the furnace dome.

  Fynn landed next to him. "I think I know what happened. The bots reacted when a shuttle landed the dome. Its compressed shape fit their programming, but they couldn't unfold it. They expected straps that weren't there and couldn't break the weld points, so they stopped. After we cut the welds the plastic relaxed and once the dome expanded wide enough, their program restarted. They got a lot done before hitting another snag. Look at the lumps inside." Bulging with bins and pallets, the dome was like a wide python full of rats.

  "So why'd they stop again?"

  "The outer wall is sliced open and can't hold pressure. I can't be sure, but pumping atmosphere in without the dome inflating probably timed out some step in the program."

  The slice was easy to find and, using the fliers, they spread the dome walls and sawed away at the thickly congealed edges. Fynn concentrated on producing a clean edge, and his hand banged into his helmet several times when he tried to wipe sweat away without thinking. Increasing the air exchange rate cooled his forehead but irritated his eyes. The suit chaffed his shoulders and elbows. It was clearly not designed for much physical labor.

  They worked until their low-battery warnings sounded.

  "The other guys can come out next time," Olsen said. "I'll be sore for a week."

  "Everyone's gonna get a turn." Fynn thought he'd bring all the recruits out next time. Everyone needed to play with the fliers and understand how the outside of the colony was configured. Besides, Olsen was right about sore muscles. Maybe Fynn could shift most of the sawing onto Lukas. He'd seemed eager.

  Fynn was happily tired as they waited for the airlock to cycle. Factions within the Kin were perplexing and he had no way to fix social problems, but he could repair the dome and install the Gravitron. Kin would regain their bone and muscle density, and reverse the other weird low-gravity effects his mother worried about.

  His father would be proud.

  Chapter 25

  M aliah sat at Tanaka's desk. She actually preferred working in her cybernet room, but symbolism was important. This was her apartment now. She glanced across the room at the adjuncts in their usual spot in the lounge, tapping at their pads. They accepted Maliah's move to the top floor, but she'd always think of this as Tanaka's desk.

  Symbolism was the only thing she enjoyed about sitting at the ornate plastic desk. His genetics documents were open on her pad, but she doubted she'd ever resume the studies. His files were impossible to read. She knew all the words and recognized the grammar, but somehow nothing made sense. Sentences were long with convoluted phrases that didn't convey any meaning. He written a hundred vague words where she wished there was one clear statement. Terms that belonged to quantum physics popped up in the middle of a discussion of biological meiosis. She reached the end of a paragraph and realized she had no idea what she'd read.

  Of course, these were Doctor Tanaka's own notes. He hadn't bothered to write them out for anyone else. Maliah sighed and flicked the file closed.

  Her cybernet administration wasn't satisfying either. She knew Tanaka's goal was to track the colony's social interactions and correct traitorous ideas quickly. She had a lot of data available to create the necessary algorithms, but it wasn't coming together.

  Kin had accessed thousands of entertainments since the Advance Team landed - movies, music, and games. With machine learning, she could gradually build a model of what each person would be likely to view next. She could access messages too, though the number of those was dropping over time. That made sense as crews consolidated into face-to-face groups as Tanaka demanded, but also made it impossible to correlate cybernet use with subversion. She needed a different method for sorting the Kin by their faithfulness.

  Maliah gazed across the room. The adjuncts, silent, blank-faced, staring at their pads, were creepy. She'd be happier if they had jobs outside of the tower. She rose from Tanaka's chair and bounced across the room. Not as dignified a bearing as Doctor Tanaka, but the realization annoyed her. A bouncing step was the only comfortable gait in low gravity.

  The adjuncts stood immediately, dropping their pads into pockets.

  "I want you to spend more time with the Kin," Maliah said.

  As usual, Maj replied first. "What do you require? We wander through the barracks from time to time and drop hints in selected ears about who's in favor or not."

  "I need you to do more of that. Spend at least half your time out of the tower. Develop informants and take gifts to them. Find people who will tell you how Max and Emily run their crews, what's talked about, and what cliques are forming. They'll become trustees, your eyes and ears. And you will be my eyes and ears."

  "What about Fynn and his crew?" Magnus asked.

  "Develop a trustee in his crew too. If no one wants to cooperate, find a way to put some pressure on individuals."

  "Even punishments?"

  "If anyone violates Doctor Tanaka's rules, yes, there should be punishment." Maliah kept her voice firm. "Publically. Confinement to barracks or the trash bins. But no permanent injuries. No deaths."

  Magnus gave a short nod, acknowledging her instructions without a hint of challenge in his face. Lightness spread through Maliah and she silently congratulated herself. She'd gather more data this way and have the apartment to herself most of the time.

  Maj spoke before the silence dragged out. "We'll start immediately."

  ***

  After several excursions, Fynn had the Gravitron dome trimmed and ready to seal. The most obvious tool to use for the job was the decabots' plastic welder. Rica adapted one of the surface suit's power supplies and, with two people lugging the unit out of the bot, they were ready to try.

  Fynn took Ben and all four recruits outside, leaving Rica to babysit the furnaces. It took all of them to tug the walls into place, with two on the ground and the rest hovering. Then someone had to crawl along each side to retract the multiple layers so they could weld one at a time.

  "Welding is a strange word for it," Ben said. "I welded metal on the Herschel. This is more like a hot glue gun."

  Fynn paused, panting with effort. "Welding. Gluing. As long as it seals."

  Repairing the slice took two trips, but finally they were ready to inflate the outer wall. Rica's modified suit pack powered the decabots' blower. Olsen pointed it at Mika and blew her off her feet to settle on her butt, unharmed and laughing, several paces away.

  Fynn pulled a narrow sleeve loose from the outer layer. "I found the external blower connection."

  They pumped the cold Titan atmosphere into the outer wall for half an hour before the dome began to ripple.

  "Olsen, pull out that fold," Fynn said. "The outer layers are connected like honeycombs. Lukas, Thurstan, over there. Mika, if you get on your flier, can you lift the top?"

  The plastic wall heaved upwards in a waist-high billow.

  The bots stirred. Upper appendages rotated on their central columns and they crawled forward with startling speed. One waved the appendage where a blower should be attached while the other gripped the plastic wall and pulled.

  Fynn called over the suit comms. "The bots' program restarted. Out of their way."

  A bot flipped part of the dome and Olsen and Lukas went flying - without their fliers. Thurstan scrambled from under the bot's crablike feet. One bot circled the shifting dome, running over Ben who flattened himself against the ground.

  Low gravity saved them. That and the smoothed dome platform, scraped clean of ice rocks. Yelps turned to laughter as they landed on their feet. Mostly.

  Thurstan rolled on the ground. "Ow, ow, ow. My knee."

  Fynn knelt beside him. "Do we need to carry you?"

  "No. Gimme a minute. What are those things doing now?"

 
"I'd say they picked up the dome program exactly where they stopped."

  Ben landed beside him. "Bots have safety programs." He sounded angry. "They're supposed to avoid running into anything and especially avoid people."

  "I don't think these bots are programmed like the stevedores," Fynn said. "I'm sorry, guys. I should have realized."

  "Hey, it's okay." Thurstan hopped on one foot. "See, I'm fine."

  "The decabots stopped again." Mika pointed at the robots. One opened a tool bin in the other's column and froze.

  "It's missing the blower," Fynn said. "Their program hit another bump."

  "These things aren't very smart."

  "I wish we could get into their code." Fynn hopped toward the decabots. "I think I know what to do. Give me a hand." They pulled Rica's modified power supply loose, dragged the blower to the bots, and cautiously scooted around an appendage to heave it into its storage bracket. Then they leaped away.

  "I'm hoping the bot checks for changed conditions every so often," Fynn said.

  They watched silently for a few minutes. With a jerk, the bot's appendage butted against the blower's connection post.

  Olsen bounced on his toes. "Hurray."

  Fynn heaved a sigh. "The bots should be able to handle the dome from here. It'll take a couple days to inflate the outer shell. Then we can inflate the dome from the inside."

  They clustered together, well out of the way, to watch the bots connect the blower to the new dome.

  Lukas pointed to the sky. "A rainbow."

  "I don't see anything," Olsen said.

  "Try your infrared spectrum."

  Fynn adjusted his display too and an arc of light shone against the brownish sky.

  "What is that?" Mika asked.

  "A rainbow." Lukas sounded certain. "On Earth, water droplets create rainbows. Here, it's methane droplets and a different portion of the spectrum."

  Thurstan held out a hand. "I don't see any rain."

  "No, it's sort of foggy above us right now. But Saturn's approaching its equinox and that brings Titan's storm season. In the next few years we should see wind storms and methane rains."

  Mika tapped her helmet controls and gazed up. "We're the first Kin to see a rainbow on Titan."

  "How long before storms start?" Olsen asked.

  "No one knows for sure," Lukas said. "Maybe a year or so. But, no worries. We colonized near the equator to avoid rising seasonal lake levels at the poles. We should be fine."

  Ben grunted. "Sure. Everything else is working out just like we expected."

  Fynn stared up at the red arch overhead. He'd intended to check the dome tie-downs, but that would have to wait. "We better get Thurstan inside. You're going to the clinic, and I don't want to hear any argument."

  Storms were nothing to worry about yet.

  ***

  The next day, Fynn passed out air monitors and led a climb into the greenhouse frames. About halfway up the frame he found a hydroponic tube lined with yellow, wilted beans.

  Below him, a group clustered around Magnus, apparently intent on conversation, and Fynn's pulse pounded. Well, he certainly wasn't going anywhere near his father's killer, no matter what Greta said about acting normal. The open cybernet channel was fine to report this problem. "Max, you've got more whiteflies. Frame four, sixth level."

  "Not again." Max sounded frustrated. "Thanks, Fynn." The big Cohort was hard to miss as he bounded to the crowd around Magnus, gestured, and planted his fists on his hips.

  Olsen swung up next to Fynn and looked down. "Can you hear what they're saying?"

  "Not over all the pumps and fans, but Max doesn't look happy."

  The utilities' white noise masked their voices, but Olsen leaned close to whisper. "This happens every time an adjunct comes out. Kin all want to prove how loyal they are, and the crew spends the rest of the day spying on each other instead of working. A friend of mine spilled a seed bag the other day, and Vanja accused him of sabotage."

  "That's ridiculous. Why would anyone sabotage the greenhouse? We've all got to eat." Fynn lifted the closest shriveled vine and a cloud of whiteflies emerged, hovered for a moment, and drifted off in the ventilation current.

  He shivered with a sudden chill. The plant should be blossoming. In a couple months, Max's crew should be harvesting its beans. Instead, the stems and leaves would be bagged for Fynn to carry outside where they'd spend eternity frozen on Titan's surface.

  "What's the holdup?" Rica asked from the level above.

  Fynn reached up the frame. It was foolish to obsess over a row of beans. It wasn't even an entire row, just a few plants. Max might resent the adjuncts interrupting his workday, but he could handle his crew. The greenhouse would produce plenty of food.

  Fynn continued climbing, leaving the yellowed vines behind. With his crew, Fynn would keep furnaces running and get that blasted Gravitron installed. He'd do his part to make the colony a success.

  ***

  Maliah leaned on the balcony rail overlooking the kitchen. Below her, the adjuncts stood at the serving counter and Kin waited with their barracks mates, one line for the men and one for the women. Maj and Magnus each set a hot algae cake into the bowl of the next Kin in line. Trina and Shun scooped out some beans, leveled the measuring cup with a knife, and dumped the portion on top.

  Discipline. Doctor Tanaka said a twist of hunger in the afternoon was good discipline. Perhaps she could phase out food restrictions over time. Tanaka hadn't indicted how long extra discipline would be needed. Until everyone's loyalty was assured, she supposed. She hugged herself briefly. A meager lunch wouldn't hurt anyone and shared hardship created unity.

  Rather than shout, Maliah tapped her pad. "Magnus, let your trustees handle lunch. I want the crew leaders in my office now. Bring them up."

  Maliah seated herself behind Tanaka's desk - her desk - before the first person arrived. It was Fynn. He looked edgy, avoiding eye contact after a short nod. He dragged over chairs to plop in front of her desk, just as Yash would, but remained standing, gripping a chair back.

  Emily was next. The plump maintenance crew leader had her graying braid coiled on top of her head. Even an uncertain smile raised her full cheeks. Her crew seemed to adore her, and Maliah was glad Fynn had brought the chairs. She didn't want the crew leader to stand like an errant child in front of a barrack chief and waved Emily to sit.

  Max bustled in next, his body filling the doorway for a moment. He pulled a chair away from the others to have room to spread his legs and lean an elbow on one knee.

  Fynn finally sat down, tapped his pad, and Liam's face appeared on the wall screen. Maliah sometimes forgot about the Herschel's commander when there were so many Kin outside her door clambering for attention.

  The adjuncts filed in, with Maj behind Greta. Oh. Maliah hadn't meant to summon her mother so abruptly, but Greta's face was placid, her eyes calm and blue as a summer sky. A sky above Earth.

  Magnus and Maj took places behind Maliah on either side of her chair, and Trina and Shun stood just beyond their shoulders. Maliah clutched a fist and refused to glance over her shoulder at Magnus, though she could feel the warmth of his body.

  "Max," Maliah said. "You delivered half the weight of produce projected on our schedules. Magnus tells me it's this whitefly problem."

  Max leaned forward. "I wouldn't have such a problem if your blasted adjuncts would stop interrupting my crew. Whenever they turn up, all useful activity ceases. I don't have enough people to wash the leaves and prune the plants where sooty mold's developed. Not if they only work half a day."

  "It's your responsibility to manage the crew. Maybe you shouldn't have released four workers to Fynn." Maliah turned her gaze to her brother, so Max only huffed without speaking.

  Fynn folded his arms across his chest. "Until I can print new control components, I'm running the furnaces on manual. Three shifts of operators supply a consistent flow of carbon dioxide to the greenhouse. And, with the extra help, I've got the Gravit
ron dome repaired. The bots are inflating it now."

  "Growing food is more urgent than the Gravitron."

  Greta interrupted. "They're both critical. The Advance Team's been down here almost seven months and Titan's gravity is debilitating. I see more rashes and headaches, more weakened immune systems and vision problems every day. Stasis effects would fade sooner, too, with the right gravity treatments. Fynn's priorities are sound."

  Emily reported an overheated pump left the smell of burned rubber in one of the barracks, but Maliah trusted her to handle maintenance. She skipped on to Liam on the wall screen. "I hope there's good news from the Herschel."

  Liam's wide face vanished and a view from space replaced him. "Indeed there is. As you can see, we have six ring segments arranged around the core. Next we'll pull the spokes free."

  "When can Magnus come up to inspect your progress?"

  Liam's face tightened. "I'll let you know when we're ready for an inspection."

  After the crew leaders left, Shun and Trina carried the chairs back to their proper place. Magnus stood in front of Maliah, weight shifted back on one leg, arms folded, and considered her for a moment before speaking. "Max is failing in the greenhouse, Liam all but declared a mutiny just now, and your brother... He's going to be as much of a problem as his father was. You let them get away with murder."

  Maliah stood and leaned forward. She'd seen Tanaka strike the pose and leaned her fists on the desktop, consciously imitating him. With a carefully controlled voice and echoes of Tanaka inside her head, she let a vision of his strength guide her. "You dare speak to me of murder?"

  The other adjuncts froze in place, listening. Ready to execute her orders, Maliah knew. Magnus' eyes flicked toward them, just for an instant, seeking support and not finding any.