Kyan drummed his fingers. “Sure, let’s see it.” A system schematic revolved with a probability distribution of overlapping signal cones connecting his ship in the direction of Neptune. “Do you think Watts is USDO235C?”
“No known ship has USDO235C’s sensor parameters.”
Kyan looked at the text again. “Well, now I’m curious. You know, in fifteen years I’ve never bumped into anyone else in the outer system. Can we see him on imaging?”
“Do you want to discontinue Eris imaging and retask the drones?”
He mulled that over. “No. Let’s stick with the current plan. In the meantime, I guess I’ll see what Watts has to say.” He drummed his fingers again. “Why do you think he transmitted text only?”
“Uncertain. He may be limiting packet size to maximize beam width.”
“Alright, well, I’ll assume he has a reason and stick with low bandwidth.” Kyan tapped the interface and a touch keyboard appeared on the screen. It had been ages since he’d last typed. Sure, he could dictate, but going old-school felt good.
Anders - Data running. Contributing to the big effort to map the Oort Cloud and taking some pretty pictures along the way.
He stopped, glancing sideways. “Why didn’t we get a radar reflection from Watts’s ship?”
“Assuming Watts’s ship is similar size to our own, we would only detect it at point four AU or less due to signal dispersion.”
He thought about that and resumed typing.
Anders - How about you? Not much traffic in the outer system. Nice to have someone to talk to. Would you like to switch to video?
“The AMOIRS drone has started mapping,” Rios said. “Time to scan the first sector is four hours and thirty-two minutes. May I make a suggestion?”
Kyan smiled. The muscle relaxants were kicking in. “Sure.”
“You’ve worked through lunch. I can prep something to eat. Then perhaps a little rest with a cold pack for your back.”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Rios.”
3
Bow Shock
Kyan lounged in the habmod, a cold pack beside him, when the comms notification chirped. He’d changed the room lighting to a dull blue glow and it reminded him of the cobalt lamp he had as a teenager. It always gave him a sense of serenity. Five hours had passed since his text to Watts. The AMOIRS drone found nothing and moved to sector two. Kyan blinked open his eyes, glanced at the port transit tube, and decided to stay put. “Is that the Watts response?”
“Yes. Alpha-numeric only. Shall I read it?”
“Please.”
“Message received eighteen thirty-one. ‘Sampling the heliopause. Data runner’s the life, huh? I don’t even know what they do with this stuff. I’d video convo, but the main dish is pointed towards Earth. What company you run for?’ End message.”
“Okay, sounds like a runner. Glad I didn’t mention our UFO.”
“Do you wish to respond?”
He rubbed his chin. “Sure. Begin message. Addison Aerospace. Big company, small ship. Looking forward to getting home. You? End message and transmit.”
“Sent. I have the first images of Eris processed. Would you like to see them?”
“Yeah. I’ve actually been looking forward to this.”
The media screen glowed with a powdery-white sphere covered in surface ice, looking like a cross between Earth’s moon and Pluto. Unlike Pluto, it showed no reddish areas and had a certain pristine beauty. An inset window showed Eris’s moon, Dysnomia, which in many ways was its opposite—small, muddy brown and irregular. The two were an odd match. Kyan loved seeing images like this. He signed on for the promise of exploration and wonders of the universe. He just didn’t realize that exploration was ninety-nine percent boredom and one percent wonder. “Gorgeous. Out of curiosity, do you know why Addison is interested in Eris?”
“Both Eris and Sedna are being evaluated for permanent research satellites.”
“This is in response to the Riggs drive, Hayden’s FTL ship?”
“James Hayden’s ship can’t go faster-than-light, but it did get close to light speed. But yes, regardless of the technology that achieves it, humanity’s expansion beyond the system is inevitable. All outer system and interstellar data will become extremely valuable at that time. Addison is anticipating this.”
He arched his eyebrows. “Can I ask you something personal?”
There was a pause. “I’m not certain that I have anything personal to share, but yes, you may.”
“The way you speak, it’s not like any other ship I’ve been on. You connect things which seem very intuitive for an expert system. You’ve taken the Turing-Day test?”
“Yes, I’m an expert system with a modified Turing-Day score of eighty-three. Ninety is the minimum for sentience, if that is what you’re asking.”
“Aside from the score, what’s the difference between you and an A.I.?”
“The simplest answer is, if you ask an A.I. about its dreams, it will tell you.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean hopes, desires. Like you. If I ask you what your desire is, you would say it is to get home and be with your daughter. You hope to experience the wonder of the stars, which in turn evokes the newness of youth.”
Kyan looked up at the voice in the ceiling, squinting his eyes. “And you know all of that about me but are not sentient?”
“Psychology program, crew health.”
“What would you say if I asked you what your dreams are?”
“To go to the beach and get away from it all.”
Kyan drew back and said nothing.
“It’s a fixed response determined by my programmer. I think it’s meant as a joke.” He paused. “It’s unrelated to your postcard, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Kyan stared at the ceiling for a moment and nearly jumped when the comms tone chirped. Three beeps repeated three times - not the tone of a Watts message - but an alert.
Eris faded into lines of text accompanied with solar imaging. The Sun writhed with fiery loops and tendrils.
RIOS - Received 18:34 local - HELIOS reports M-class flare activity expected 08.02.80 18:02 through 08.08.80 23:00.
Expected magnitude M6-M9. **Moderate (>40%) probability of X1-X3 class flare with coronal mass ejection 08.03.80 04:00 - 08.05.80 21:00.
Significant communications interruptions expected during major flare events. All spacefaring vessels are instructed to execute flare protocols.
The Earth comms graphic updated and the remaining waypoints turned black, the field map bloating around an angry sun. The pattern washed over adjacent waypoints, pulling more days into its wake. Eighteen black pearls flanked by reds.
“Dammit.” He pushed out of bed, caught the overhead, and pulled towards the port comms room. “If I transmit now, twelve hours transit, it’ll get there…oh, what am I thinking? It’s already started.” He caught a rung at the comms room entrance. “I thought I had three more days.”
“I’m sorry, Kyan.”
He pushed off and sank into the command chair, reaching for his baseball cap. He’d left it bedside. “Give me a quarter gee.”
The seat pressed against Kyan and his hair settled down. His cheeks flattened and he looked more like his Earth self, more like Harmony’s dad. “Hey kiddo. I just got the HELIOS alert, so I’m sending this early. Hope it finds its way despite the bad weather. I’ve got my music ready and a bunch of old movies to plow through, so don’t worry about me. Got my first images of Eris today. It was something to see.” He took his hand and ruffled his hair. “Can’t wait to get back Earthside. I love you. Talk to you soon.”
The transmission broadcast and Kyan sat silently for a few minutes, resting his forehead on his palm. “You know, when I took this mission I was looking forward to getting away from everyone, just spending some time exploring and seeing what’s out here. Now that I have it, it’s the last thing I’d want.”
The comms chirped. Rios said, “Incoming message from
Harmony, received 18:45 local.”
For a moment, he couldn’t wrap his brain around it. How could he have a response already?
Harmony wore a yellow pajama top. A few pools of amber light bracketed the background and darkness filled the window. Halley lay curled on a cushion to her left. “Hey Dad! It’s the wee hours here, but I’ve had the house set to wake me if there were any urgent HELIOS alerts. Looks like some big flares are coming in the next few hours, so I figured I’d get my message in now. It’s not looking good and this will probably be our last chat until after it’s done. Don’t worry about sending a reply. I know it won’t be able to reach me.” She reached up, ruffled her hair, and smoothed it. Kyan smiled. “Hey, I posted the ultrasound today on social, and everyone’s comments were awesome. I attached the clip. Hang in there, Dad, I’m proud of you. You’re like a space adventurer.”
The window closed, and Kyan smiled. He opened the social feed and read through all of the comments and congratulations, laughing from some and grinning from others, then printed the feed and tucked it into the photo board. He clasped his hands across his stomach and leaned back in the chair to close his eyes for a few minutes.
“Kyan.”
He blinked and glanced at his watch. 20:02. He rubbed his forehead. “Ah, these muscle relaxants suck. Have I been napping for ninety-minutes?”
“Yes. I have dinner ready. You should probably eat something.”
He palmed the back of his neck. “You woke me to tell me to eat something?”
“No. But you need to eat something before I tell you why I woke you.”
Normally he’d argue, but there was something about Rios lately. “Alright. What do you have?”
“Salisbury steak and noodles.”
“Hmm.” The gravy smell hit his nose and his stomach rumbled. He walked to the dining area, slid up the dispenser guard, took out the meal tray, and grabbed a juice bulb. Rios was silent as Kyan ate most of his steak at the table. “Okay, so, what’s up? Watts text?”
“No. First, additional Eris images are processed and available for review. Second, the AMOIRS drone has located USDO235C.”
He had a mouthful of noodles and the words came out garbled. “Really?”
The media screen illuminated. Simmering red overlaid pink stars in the infrared image. A transparent beam cut diagonally across the star field. Rios zoomed an area near its front and the screen became a scarlet cone diverging into two lines.
“It’s the bow shock,” Kyan said.
“That’s correct. The object is traveling two hundred and forty-six kilometers per second, relative to the bow shock. I picked up the tail first and adjusted the sector to find the origin.”
“That’s fast. Too fast to be natural.”
“Agreed. It is accelerating at one-quarter gee. There’s more.” The zooming reticule bracketed the comet’s head. A new image filled the screen, entirely crimson. A perfect black arrowhead rested center.
Kyan leaned in, squinting. “What the hell is that?
The image rotated so the arrow pointed vertically, then the screen split and a second window appeared. The new image showed an archived UNSDEF file detailing a white arrowhead with blinking strobes. “It is a kinetic impactor. These were used for asteroid defense between 2048 and 2062. Eventually they were decommissioned and replaced by the Lagrange laser arrays.”
“This sounds vaguely familiar.”
“It’s small - six meters - but dense. Capable of achieving relativistic speeds.” The window switched to an archived video timestamped 06.01.2049. An irregular rocky shape lingered an instant before a blazing white streak smashed its center. The image flashed scintillating white and faded to an expanding shower of embers.
Kyan reeled back and arched his eyebrows. “Was that a warhead?”
“No. It’s entirely kinetic energy. At relativistic speeds, yields can be in the megatons. Of the fourteen fired at asteroids, two had system failures and were lost. It is possible this is one of them.”
“It’s been eighteen years.” The timber of his voice rose. “This one’s powered. It’s been modified. Is there any reason to remove the strobes and mask emissions on a kinetic impactor?”
“No. It should be highly visible on multiple channels.”
A flush spread across his face. “I think…I think it’s a weapon.” He blinked a few times. “What’s its course?”
A new graphic showed the kinetic impactor on a slightly arced course directly towards the sun, slingshotting past it. Nearly all of the solar system’s planets were on the other side. It didn’t currently intersect any of them, although it did pass between Earth and Mars. Kyan put his hand to his mouth. “Will the Lagrange arrays detect this?”
“Unknown. Array parameters are classified.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay, broadcast all data related to the impactor on the UN emergency channel, continuous loop, maximum gain.”
“I will need to discontinue the looped broadcast to Harmony. Based on the most recent HELIOS alert, probability of contact is marginal.”
“I know. Proceed.” He studied the impactor’s flight path for a minute, pacing back and forth. He chewed his fingernail. “I think we should follow it. I’m worried we’re going to lose it. If we match course, how long until Earth comms reconnect?”
“Twenty-eight days. The impactor’s current course extends comms loss.”
“What if we want to overtake it?”
“Seventeen hours, eight minutes, at maximum acceleration.”
He paced before the screen, ruffling his hair. “We’ll lose the drones above a quarter gee. Can you track that thing without AMOIRS?”
“Yes. I have an optical lock.”
“Okay, return all drones to bay. Once they’re secure, set course for the impactor, one point two gee.”
“Acknowledged.” Rios hesitated. “Kyan, what will you do when we get there?”
Kyan stared at the freeze frame of the impactor’s aftermath. “That is an excellent question.”
4
Kinetics
Kyan didn’t sleep much. He spent time in the maintenance bay inspecting the drones, checked the comms, and finally found himself in the observatory. One point two gee was wearing on him. He lay on the floor with his blanket and pillow looking up at the stars. A thousand gold points. It reminded him of his nights camping. It didn’t seem like anything could be going wrong in that sky.
At four the comms chirped. When Rios announced it was wide-band, alpha-numeric, Kyan just had him display it in the observatory. Giant blue letters arced across the ceiling:
Watts - Looks like it’s just the two of us for a while. Send position and we’ll convo.
Kyan rested on his hands. “Well, that’s starting to get creepy. Display updated probability cones.”
The observatory windows opaqued and a star map zoomed. Overlapping cones of tapering diameters lay in a line with the Aristarchus. Kyan’s ship, Watt’s ship, and the impactor were all within five million kilometers of each other.
“Draw a sphere twenty-six billion kilometers wide,” Kyan said. “Pick two random spots. What are the odds they’re next to each other?”
“Is this question rhetorical?”
Kyan adjusted his pillow. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Rios said, “what if there is a legitimate purpose for the impactor?”
“There isn’t. Someone wants to kill a lot of people.”
“Based on your comments, I suspect you believe Watts is associated with the impactor.”
“Me, you, Watts, the weapon, all in the same place at the same time. I’m still not a hundred percent, but it’s too much of a coincidence. ”
“What do you intend to do?”
“Nothing. We keep quiet and let him guess where we are. Every time he sends a text, we get a little more info on his position. If he’s the one that put the weapon out here, I’m guessing he’s gauging whether or not we’ve found it. If he’s
just some runner who wants to chat, well, then I’m just being rude.” He scratched his head. “And paranoid.”
“Kyan, I’m worried.”
Kyan jerked his head, searching the ceiling. “Can you be worried?”
“I don’t know. It seems the correct description of the situation. What if it is his weapon, if Watts comes for us?”
“I’ll stop him.”
Rios said nothing, and Kyan rolled onto his side. He drifted asleep dwelling on Rios’s question, waking just after six. Rios pestered him until he drank a juice bulb for breakfast, then he spent the next hour in the fabrication module. Kevlar was a common hull layer and the ship’s stores had plenty of material components. He set the printer to fab and laminate several layers joined by straps and buckles. When it was all assembled, a yellow slip-over vest sat on the table. Not surprisingly the ship’s parts database had no weapons on file, and even if there were weapons he lacked the materials to make things like gunpowder, so he simply used the modeling software to design a carbon fiber knife the length of his forearm. When it was printed, he held it in his hand and stared at it.
“What will you do with that?” Rios said.
His stomach churned a bit and he set the knife on the table.
“RF emissions. New proximity contact,” Rios said, “three point three million kilometers.”
Kyan ran to the bay and climbed the main shaft rungs, skipping every other in the core junction until he reached for the habmod. His right hand slipped and his stomach dropped as his leg flailed. Ten meters straight down from here to the bay floor. It was a bit dizzying, and he should know better. He got hands and feet back on rungs, took them one at a time, and caught his breath when he arrived in the port comms room. “Let’s see it.”
The wall showed a field of stars with a dark tee-shape. Stubby appendages jutted along the cross-section.
“He’s got all of his lights off, but it’s a rescue and salvage ship,” Kyan said. “Looks like a Badger.”
Hayden's World Shorts, Stories 1-3: 43 Seconds, Signal Loss, Aero One Page 5