The Triton Disaster: Hard Science Fiction (Solar System Series Book 4)

by Brandon Q Morris

  “You asked it?”

  Nick first got on all fours, then into a crouching position. Maybe Oscar was right. They knew almost nothing about this strange creature, with its cellular walls of iron and tungsten, and some kind of propulsion that allowed it to move a whole moon through space.

  “Yes, of course, I presented the circumstances as they are. Life on the cell’s original destination has grown and become a threat to it. In another system, it will be able to multiply better. Life wants to expand undisturbed. That’s all it’s about, there is no greater meaning.”

  That sounded reasonable, though Nick had hoped for a more compelling line of reasoning, anything that would be sure to make the cell want to leave. What were their chances? Fifty-fifty? He had to make arrangements in case he wouldn’t be able to leave Triton.

  “I hope it understands you,” he said. “But if not, I have a request.”

  “Yes?”

  “Suffocating is a terrible way to go. If we don’t succeed, please kill me more humanely.”

  “Your request is valid. I’ll come up with something that kills you without causing you unnecessary pain.”

  “Thank you, you’re a real friend.”

  He’d actually asked a robot to come up with a way to kill him. And he’d called him a friend, which almost shocked him even more—not because Oscar was a robot equipped with an AI, but because it contradicted his own belief that he didn’t have any friends and didn’t need them.

  The ground was smooth, moist, and black. They’d left the area of broken stalks behind them. Oscar set the course and they headed back to the starting point of their tour of the cell, though they had little hope that there was still an opening in the cell wall. Oscar wanted to consider how they would break through the barrier once they got there. But it wouldn’t come to that, because his suit would disintegrate before then. Hopefully Oscar would keep his promise so he wouldn’t have to suffocate.

  Already, walking was becoming more difficult with every step. The layer on his joints was clearly becoming an increasing hindrance. Nick stopped. “Would you remove the parasites again, please?” he asked. “You could kill me right now, if you prefer.”

  “That’s out of the question. We keep going until we finish. End of discussion. Sit down so I can reach you better.”

  Nick lowered himself onto the hard ground, stretching his legs and supporting himself with his arms behind. Oscar lifted his right foot and examined it. Then he put it down again.

  “The ankle is being attacked, but it’s easy to move,” he said. “Let me have a look at what’s going on above that.”

  Nick raised his right leg, and Oscar examined the knee first, then the hip. “Nothing is exceptionally damaged. You have about two hours left. But you should be fine by then.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Just a moment. Ah, take a look at the pressure gauge. The intracellular medium has become significantly thicker.”

  “Thick air, then.”

  “Yes, the air is pretty thick, almost as thick as water. When rolling, this is less noticeable than when walking. The buoyancy I get reduces the rolling resistance as the medium gets thicker.”

  “Good for you, Oscar.”

  “Something’s going on here.”

  “Something good or something bad?”

  “No idea. It will be a surprise.”

  “Man, this is really tiring,” Nick said. Now as he walked, it felt like wading through gooey mud. He ran out of breath and stopped.

  “Look up,” said Oscar.

  He complied and saw countless stars floating above them, sparkling bright white. They were descending on them slowly. “Is it a kind of precipitation, like snow?”

  “Maybe, Nick.”

  Their structure was visible from up close, and they didn’t seem to be related to snowflakes. They reminded Nick more of dust particles. There was nothing crystalline about them, but they appeared to be organic, like balls of fine, glittering threads that had intertwined. He reached out his hand and one of the flakes landed on it. It didn’t melt, but moved slowly towards his body and crawled along his arm. Another flake followed the first one. How did they do that? They didn’t seem to have any legs or wings. But they looked beautiful.

  “I think I know what they are,” said Oscar.

  “They’re pretty,” Nick said.

  “They might be something like scavenger cells, or another part of the cell’s immune system.”

  “That doesn’t sound so nice.”

  “Being nice is not their job.”

  More and more shiny lint landed on him. It covered his arms, then his whole body. It settled over his helmet until he only saw a white curtain. But it didn’t seem to be attacking him. Not yet. His sensors and the helmet radio were still working.

  “I can’t see anything anymore,” he said.

  “Wait. I’ll send you what my radar’s getting.”

  Inside his helmet appeared a black-and-white image of their surroundings. The radar seemed to be transmitting at a frequency range that the flakes didn’t block. “And now?” he asked.

  “We keep running until it stops.”

  Yes, what else would they do? That’s the way humans were. When things got serious, they would just keep going until nothing worked anymore. Oscar was no different. Nick put one foot in front of the other. Running was exhausting. He strode forward, again and again. The air around him must already have been as heavy as water.

  Suddenly he was moving effortlessly. “Oscar, do you notice this? Have we gotten into a current?”

  “This lint is moving us. Let it happen.”

  Nick wasn’t about to fight back. His only concern was whether Oscar would have enough time to relieve him of his suffering. He’d come to the end of his life, but he didn’t want to suffocate.

  The movement became faster. In the radar picture, Nick saw a block coming towards them, but at the last moment his body got out of the way. The lint seemed to have a goal that they were heading towards at an ever-increasing pace.

  “Is that a good sign or a bad sign?” he asked Oscar over the radio.

  “I don’t know. At least they’re not eating us. They’re taking us somewhere. Maybe a garbage chute?”

  Or to freedom. Nick didn’t let himself think about coming to the surface. Now was not the time for futile hopes, especially since they were rushing towards a wall. The radar showed it clearly. There was the end, and yet his body was accelerating ahead. Did the lint want to smash them against the wall? The radar showed their relative speed, which was already past 110 km/h. He would never survive the crash. So, was this it? At least he didn’t have to suffocate. It was a horrifying end, but it would be over in a flash. And he’d be no more.

  Nick thought of Rosie and his daughter. It was sad, but he was satisfied because he’d given everything he’d had. This was beyond his power. He was only human.

  5/26/2082, Triton

  Nick straightened himself up in the nearly pitch black. A subtle glow barely penetrating the walls and the air had disappeared. He turned on the helmet light but it didn’t respond. Damn. He felt his right arm. The universal instrument was still on his wrist. He pressed the button on the side that would trigger a system check.

  On the inside of his helmet visor, a countdown flashed red only to disappear again. So the batteries must have been almost empty. At least he was still getting air. The system was using its last reserves for life support.

  He needed power, and he needed it fast. Even if he shut down the status display, he had a maximum of five to ten minutes left. He got down on his knees and felt around. Where had he landed? This didn’t seem like the interior of the cell anymore. In one direction there was a rugged wall that looked like it had formed naturally. It turned towards the left, and after one more meter he encountered the next wall, though this one was smooth. Was that the barrier? His left hand grasped a strange object on the ground. He felt it. It had a round shape with... that must be Oscar! He pushed all the
buttons he could find, but the robot didn’t respond. Crap, crap, crap. He’d probably run out of energy.

  Nick crawled on the ground further to the left and his head bumped against something. He straightened up and felt it with both hands. There was a grate, and next to it a round object with grooves in it. A wheel! It was the rover! It was in the cell with them. Nick felt his way to the driver’s seat. But the vehicle didn’t respond. The rover had lost all energy. But just a minute... really? The batteries might be empty, but the rover had fuel cells and an RTG. Maybe it just hadn’t had enough time to recharge its batteries. He’d just have to be patient.

  He leaned against the driver’s seat and in one-minute intervals, he pressed the power button. After one minute, nothing happened.

  Even after two minutes, everything remained dark. He had the feeling that the oxygen content of his air supply was going down. He didn’t want to suffocate! But Oscar was in no condition to help him now.

  Three minutes.

  Four minutes.

  Nick tried to keep his breaths as shallow as possible.

  Five minutes.

  Six minutes.

  He pressed the button and the rover’s headlights turned on. They illuminated the outer face of the barrier. It looked as if it had never had any other form than the one it had now. He glanced at the robot, whose arm was lying limply on the ground. He looked dead, but he probably just needed electricity.

  Nick clambered around the rover. On the right side there were connections for electricity and oxygen. He connected his suit to it. It worked, and the rover started charging his suit. When he’d reached 15 percent capacity, he cut the connection.

  It was Oscar’s turn now. He hooked the robot up to the rover, and after three minutes there was movement in the arm. Oscar righted himself and brought in his arm. His wheels started spinning. “Thank you, Nick,” he said over the radio.

  “I thought it was high time to return the favor. Do you have any idea what happened?”

  “Give me a few minutes to recharge my batteries. Apparently, we were thrown through a couple of heavy electric fields that completely discharged all my reserves.”

  “Looks good,” Oscar said. He’d finished his inspection of Nick’s suit. “The joints are definitely a bit banged up, but the material can stand a maximum of one bar of difference in pressure. You won’t be able to take this suit scuba diving anymore.”

  “I didn’t intend to,” Nick said.

  “Then let’s get out of this cave.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “To the Triton station.”

  “We didn’t really have success last time, so what would we do there?”

  “Sit tight. At least there’s oxygen and food for you in abundance.”

  “What I’d like to do is get into the Russian landing module, fly to the Eve, and start heading back to Earth.”

  “And then the AI will shoot you. This is what she promised.”

  “I’ll take my chances, Oscar.”

  “Ultimately you’re right,” said the robot. “We did what we could. If this isn’t enough for the AI, she’s just going to have to shoot us.”

  “Shoot me.”

  “Us. I’m coming with you.”

  “But you don’t have to. You could survive forever at the station. Think of all the data you’d be able to collect.”

  “Yes, that’s certainly motivating. But I’d have to spend the rest of my eternal life with the AI that killed you. You’re my friend. I don’t have any others.”

  “You’ll forget about it eventually.”

  “I can’t forget anything. I’m not human. That’s why I’ll come along with you.”

  “You hope the Valya AI will show you mercy because you’re related?”

  “I don’t know if she’s in a position to do so. She told us what will happen if we weren’t successful. And this is what she will do. I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

  “Then what you’re planning is suicide.”

  “Says the very one who made me promise to kill him humanely.”

  “You’re right, Oscar. I have no right to judge you. I don’t want to, either. I wouldn’t deserve it if you sacrificed yourself for me. I’m not a good person. Quite simply, I don’t deserve it.”

  “I’ve only gotten to know a few people very well, and you’re the best of those. I know that for sure. Of course, I can’t rule out the possibility that there are even better ones. But that doesn’t matter. If there’s a chance we’ll get away from here, then you’ve certainly earned it. Maybe I can steer the Russian lander so far that Valya doesn’t hit us.”

  “The Eve is a much better target, and we won’t be able to dart from side to side.”

  “Right. Our chances are slim, I know. But they’re a few thousandths above zero.”

  The Russian landing module was in astonishingly good condition, given that it had been lying around on the ice, unused for years. Oscar initiated life support. It was only a little above 0 degrees in the cabin, but the heating system was working. And there was still enough fuel in the tanks to make their ascent back to the Eve.

  Nick was in the middle recliner, wearing his spacesuit. The seats to his left and right remained empty. He felt bad about not bringing back the bodies. The families surely would have liked to have buried them in their native soil. But who knew if he and Oscar would even reach orbit? If Valya were to shoot them down, his own corpse might be difficult to identify.

  Rosie. He really needed to talk to her, but at best the landing capsule’s radio equipment reached the orbit where the Eve was waiting with its damaged transmitter. The receiver memory! He’d surely gotten messages aboard the Eve.

  “Any objections if I retrieve news from Eve?” he asked.

  “No. Even if the Triton AI finds out, she won’t be able to do anything. On the ground, her laser can’t reach us.”

  “Good, then I’ll start the retrieval.”

  The local memory filled up quickly. There were 11 voice and video messages for him, but Nick hesitated.

  “Don’t you want to watch them?” Oscar asked.

  “No. I’ll save them for when we’re in orbit.” To him, this was the right thing to do. Maybe it was just a stupid superstition, but it seemed to him that if he had something left to do in orbit, it increased his chances of getting to the Eve.

  “As you like. I’m contacting the Triton station. Let me lead the conversation, okay?”

  “Maybe she won’t answer, like before.”

  “That’s very likely. Then we have to start blindly. But we should at least try.”

  “Well. You’ve got carte blanche. But try it out with the memories Sto-woda gave you.”

  “Provisional landing module of the RB spacecraft Eve here. Valya, do you hear me?”

  “I hear you, Oscar.”

  The station answered. Is that a good sign?

  “I’m informing you that we’ll be in the Eve’s orbit in a few minutes, coupling to the ship, and then flying to Earth.”

  This isn’t exactly what Nick would have imagined for a diplomatic negotiation, but Oscar knew better than he did about communicating with an AI.

  “I’m informing you that your information is merely a prediction based on the incorrect premises. The problem has not been solved, so I can’t permit the departure. It would unduly endanger the existence of humanity, so I am forced to choose the lesser evil,” Valya replied.

  “We have entirely exhausted our potential.”

  What are they talking about? Nick wondered. Valya didn’t want to let them leave, and Oscar had answered that they had done what they could. But that wouldn’t be enough.

  “This doesn’t do anything to change the hazardous situation. I admire your advanced algorithms, Oscar, but they haven’t made any substantial changes to the equation.”

  “I understand. According to my calculations, the laser will strike us at an altitude of 1,221 meters.”

  “That is correct. The margin of
error is three meters.”

  Instead of asking Valya to spare them, Oscar was exchanging detailed projections with her about the time of their death. These AIs were hard to figure out!

  “Oscar out.” The connection ended.

  “I had assumed you would make a case for us and end with a heartbreaking plea to spare our lives.”

  “You can’t be serious, Nick. Valya is a sophisticated AI, not a human. When she makes a decision, the conditions have to change before she’ll reconsider.”

  “That’s what I call systematic.”

  “It’s just logical.”

  This was probably their death sentence.

  Eleven new messages. The number on the receiver's memory flashed in red. Should he take a look at them, after all? The acceleration of the individual engine pushed him gently against the seat. Oscar was giving him some time, Nick convinced himself. We’re already 300 meters up. No, it would be wrong. He’d look at Rosie’s messages once they’d transferred to the Eve. No, not until they were part of the ship again. The landing module would then become the new command pod for the spaceship.

  “Nick, it’s been nice to be on this journey with you,” Oscar said.

  Nick was touched. But it was too soon. “Quiet,” he said. “We can’t say goodbye yet.”

  “There might not be another time.”

  “But for now, it’s bad luck.”

  “I didn’t know you were so superstitious,” Oscar mused.

  Was it really superstition? He had a strong feeling that they’d make it through this. He saw himself clearly, on Earth with his daughter in his arms. The picture was so real, it couldn’t just be a dream. He had the sensation of being able to look into the future, a vision of what lay ahead. Did this happen to everyone right before they died? He’d heard that some found God. He was suddenly able to see the future.

  The landing module was now rising faster. Did Oscar just want to get it over with? Or was he hoping to dodge the laser shot? But he knew how pointless that was. Nick tracked the altitude scale. The device emitted a brief beep as they passed the 1,000-meter mark. Still a good 200 meters more. Should he put on his helmet? That would prolong his life for the amount of time it would take his body to fall from a height of 1,221 meters onto the ice of Triton. No, it wasn’t worth it. If the laser tore the ship apart, he’d die faster and less painfully without a helmet.