The starchild compact, p.13
The Starchild Compact, page 13
#
An hour later, Ari and Noel made their way through the Pullman, into the Box, and down to the bottom end cap. They carried with them a simple hand drill, several extended bits especially designed to cut through cured polyaramid synthetic, and two syringes containing the adhesive they would inject between the base and deck.
"With no gravity assist," Ari said to Noel, "we need to get leverage from something else."
"And how do we do that?"
"How tall are you?"
"One-eighty-five centimeters…Why?"
"I'm one-seventy-three and the space between decks is three meters. Do the math." Ari grinned at Noel. "Your feet on the deck, me on your shoulders, the drill bit on the overhead…"
From his Link Ari set up a holodisplay showing the Box schematic. The four drilling points were clearly indicated. He tapped his link and four spots appeared on the overhead. "Let's do it," he said to Noel.
It took them the better part of an hour to drill the four holes. Ari reported to Jon, "We're ready to evacuate the Box and then inject the adhesive."
"Let me know when you guys are ready."
#
Ari and Noel returned to the Pullman to suit up, while Jon evacuated the Box from the remote controls in the Core. Although he could have just cracked the doors and explosively released all the air, out of an abundance of caution, he pumped most of the Box atmosphere into storage bottles. In the back of Jon's mind at all times was the thought that you can never have too much air, but if you have too little, you're screwed. So he took the time to pump down the Box – to scavenge it.
About a half hour later, he told Ari over his Link, "That's as good a vacuum as I can get without opening the hatches." He had displays from each of their holocams before him. He followed their movement as sensors followed their motion into the Box, automatically switching his third view to one that displayed the two men.
Ari inserted a sniffer nozzle into one of the holes. "We still have a lot of gas molecules floating around here," he told Jon. "I think we need to open the hatch to give it a shot of hard vacuum."
Jon had made it a habit of leadership to evaluate but never second-guess his people. Now certainly was not time to change that habit. "You got it, Ari. Stand by…" He shifted one view to a holocam pointed at the Box garage door – the name they had given the large hatch through which the lander/rover would exit. Then he cracked the hatch, and was rewarded with a puff of crystalline vapor, as the remaining moisture laden air escaped.
"Let's give it an hour to evacuate between the plates," Ari said. "Noel and I will examine the landers in the meantime.
#
Noel was fascinated by the combination lander/rover. He had pored over the schematics, so that, in a sense, he felt he actually knew the machines, but other than a cursory look when passing through the Box, he really had had no chance to examine one closely.
He floated in front of the machine, taking in its five-meter length resting against the back deck on three pair of large rubber tires. At three meters wide, it was a squat ungainly cylinder sporting a slightly bulbous front end of tough radiation resistant transparent polymer. The upper length of the cylinder, viewed horizontally, had three sapphire matrix ports down each side and three along the top. As ungainly as it appeared, Noel had calculated that in rover mode, its mass was distributed below the horizontal median, so it actually was quite stable. The hypergolic nozzle appeared to his eye to be somewhat off the cylinder centerline, but Noel knew that this was to compensate for the mass distribution. He couldn't see the nose pad folded against the vehicle hull between the wheels, but he closely examined the three landing pads spaced around the nozzle at the back of the cylinder, folded against the hull into three recessed slots. They were designed to extend out and down in a scissor-like fashion. Their lower sections and the main hinges against the hull were hydraulically dampened to cushion the landing. He found their robustness interesting, given Iapetus' low gravity, some forty times less than on Earth. The landing pad on top of the nozzle carried a telescoping shaft that, when extended after landing, tilted the lander, pivoting it on the remaining two landing pads until the nose pad contacted the surface. Noel examined the upper escape hatch. The recessed mechanism for popping the hatch from the outside in an emergency was easy to grasp with a gloved hand, but designed so that it would not snag on anything brushing the opening. The internal pressure indicator by the recessed handle glowed bright red, indicating that a pressure differential existed between the outside and inside of the rover. He pulled himself around to the air lock on the left side. Its pressure indicator showed green and red, indicating the lock was evacuated, but the interior was pressurized.
Ari floated up alongside him. "We probably don't want to go inside," he said. "That will just put more gas molecules inside the Box."
"Yep."
They pulled themselves to the transparent bulbous nose. Noel activated a beam attached to his wrist, and flashed it into the rover. Noel could not bring himself to call it by its convoluted official name – lander/rover, and in his mind it was a rover that could fly when necessary.
"That's not necessary, you know," Ari said to him with a broad grin. He tapped his Link, and the rover interior lights came on. "All the comforts of home," Ari said, "but not quite so luxurious as that Town Car you like to drive. More like my beat up old Land Rover."
"I gotta tell ya," Noel answered, "I can't wait to put this thing through its paces." He moved down to one of the large front wheels. "This motor," he said, tapping the wheel's hub, "puts out more power than both our car engines combined."
"That's a fact."
Noel pressed himself against the deck. There was more than sufficient clearance for him to slide under the rover. He pulled himself hand-over-hand until he reached the centerline. Illuminated by his shoulder torch, the nose pad was clearly visible in its recessed slot. There was sufficient clearance between the hull edge and the pad leg to prevent any damage to the pad should the rover bottom out against the surface. All moving parts were protected with flexible seals to keep out the clinging dust they expected to find on the surface. Past experience was the Moon and Mars. While the Moon dust was far more invasive, Mars dust was more abrasive. In both cases, if the stuff got into a bearing race, you might as well forget it. Consequently a lot of design went into seals. It wasn't his specialty, but Noel knew a lot about it. As the space structural engineer on the crew, he was expected to be the expert in these things – and he figured he probably was, although he had come to realize that Ari was one of those special people who seemed to know as much or more about everything than even the acknowledged experts knew. They were so different in so many ways, but Ari was a good guy to have at your back, whether in a dark alley or facing a daunting engineering challenge. Clearly one of the good guys, in Noel's opinion.
"Hour's up," Ari announced. "I'll go check the holes."
Noel pulled himself out from under the rover, and floated to the partly open hatch. "Opening the garage door completely," he announced generally.
"Roger that," Jon answered.
Noel activated the hatch opening mechanism, and the large garage door pushed out a half meter, and then swung out and back against the hull. The view was magnificent. Noel rolled on his back and let his eyes take in the band of light that filled part of the sky like a brilliant white rainbow. As he let his eyes adjust, here and there the band of white began to resolve into individual points of light, not just white, but colors spanning the entire human range of vision. It was hypnotizing, and Noel could have stayed there for hours enjoying the sight. He felt a hand grab his leg.
"Hey, Buddy, you're drifting out the hatch, and you don't have a safety line or your TBH boots." Ari pulled him inside the Box. "Just how were you going to get back?"
"I guess I got carried away. Sorry…" Noel felt embarrassed, but Ari didn't give him any time to think about it.
"We're ready to do the adhesive," Ari told him.
#
Jon monitored the process from the Core. He was concerned about Noel's lapse in safety, and resolved to make a point to the entire crew. He recalled reading about an undersea rescue attempt off the east coast of Florida back in the twentieth century. The Jonson Sea Link, a mini-sub, had gotten tangled in cable on the bottom. The pilot was the son of the owner, Jonson. The Sea Link had no escape mechanism, and Jonson was unable to free himself. After several hours, as his air supply was running low, Navy divers from a submarine rescue ship attempted a rescue. The ASR established a four-point moor near the location of the entangled submersible. Their intent had been to moor directly over it, but precise navigation was still several decades away at that time. The divers went down, and eventually located the craft, about fifteen meters beyond the maximum extension of their umbilicals. They could signal to Jonson, but could do nothing to get him out. By the time the ASR repositioned itself in a new four-point moor, Jonson was dead.
Jon could see a situation where an untethered crew member could find himself in a similar situation – where safety was just out of reach. Unlikely…sure, but possible, so he resolved to make sure it didn't happen.
On the holodisplays in front of him, Jon watched Ari and Noel inject the adhesive into half the holes, cover the holes with a net-like fabric, and then move back to examine their work.
"Okay, Jon, let's close the hatch and repressurize before this stuff cures as is."
Jon activated the hatch closing mechanism, and then flooded the space with air. Ari and Noel removed their helmets and examined the adhesive. Ari pointed to the holes he had left empty, and moved a portable holocam right up to the opening, shining a light into the hole. Jon observed adhesive oozing into the hole, a sure sign that it was spreading throughout the loose underside of the reel.
"Looks like you got it," Jon said to the team in the Box. "Get your asses back into the Pullman, and we'll go back to vacuum to cure it."
"You got it, Skipper," Ari said as the two men glided back to the Pullman.
#
The following morning Michele joined the rest of the off-duty crew in the Canteen while Jon and the maneuvering watch extended the tethers in what now was a routine operation. To her surprise, the close-in rotation had less effect on her stomach than before. Dr. Bhuta spent most of her time chatting with Saeed in what appeared to Michele to be a friendly, respectful relationship. She could not abide the little terrorist, as she referred to him privately. He made her skin crawl, and she tried to avoid him whenever possible. She agreed with Elke that they should have pitched the little terrorist out the lock the moment they discovered him. Of course, doctors were different. They had to be in order to treat everybody. Michele knew that Carmen had no discretion when it came to whom she would treat. Her Hippocratic oath underpinned everything she did. Michele respected that, but she knew she never could be a doctor, precisely because she was not capable of that kind of compassion. Plants were better patients, and she could prune and eliminate as she felt necessary without reference to anything higher that her own intellect.
Michele glanced around the Canteen. Carmen – the ship's physician – the Doc. Michele did not really know her, either as a woman, lover, or friend. They were so different that she had not been able to touch her inner person, so that their relationship remained cordial, but somewhat formal. Elke – she smiled remembering the many intimacies they had shared, her beautiful body, her delicious taste – just remembering caused warmth to spread from her core. She looked at Noel, tall and handsome, and almost yearning in his lovemaking, and smiled inwardly remembering his quaint shyness in the presence of both her and Elke. Her thoughts turned to the crew members in the Core, especially to Ginger, long and lithe, and initially very willing, but lately, apparently caught up with the Russian Demitri. And speaking of Demitri, Michele chuckled inwardly at his feigned roughness that hid a very tender intimate partner, one that blossomed when Ginger joined them. Ari was awesome, like a machine that wouldn't quit, especially when Elke decided to join them, despite her proclivities. Her regret, however, was le Capitaine – he seemed immune to her charms, and so far as she could tell, he maintained a professional relationship with Ginger as well. Carmen seemed out of the question, and Elke only did guys when she was there as well. Michele smiled at her vision of an enthusiastic Elke sandwiched between herself and Ari.
The memories of this voyage would last well into her declining years, as she continued to think of anything past forty. With the return of weight, the delicious freedom her breasts experienced in free fall had vanished under the downward pull of the ship's artificial gravity. Michele saw her thirty-five years as the beginning of a slide to the awful truth of forty. When the two year younger Elke or the four year younger Ginger admired the tone of her naked body, Michele continued to hear a silent "…for someone approaching forty." The men's opinions didn't count, because men were always uncritical when women made themselves available. Michele had to admit that she took pleasure in the uncritical admiration of Elke and Ginger, but she still harbored reservations about their underlying perspective.
Jon announced full tether extension, and Carmen asked Michele how she felt. Michele smiled at her. "Fine, Doctor. It wasn't nearly so bad this time."
"Good…you look more relaxed, too." Carmen paused, looking quietly at Michele. "So beautiful and so accomplished," she said. "You are a lucky woman."
#
Ari carefully examined his holodisplays from the Core. To his relief, the repair seemed to be holding. Despite their careful preparation, and the extra time at full vacuum to ensure even distribution of the adhesive, he remained a bit skeptical. Such a repair had never before been attempted – not that they had any real choice. Doing the trip under free fall was not a realistic option, except for absolute necessity. Rotating the joined ship at five and a third revolutions per minute was also not realistic. He knew about Michele's vertigo, and suspected the rest of them would suffer ill effects from prolonged rapid rotation as well.
As he concentrated on a close examination of the repair, he felt a soft female touch on his neck and shoulders. He turned to find himself gazing at the swell of Michele's breasts as she managed to display herself artfully in her pale blue jumpsuit.
"What's up, Plant Lady?" he asked with a chuckle. "Is the gravity making you horny?"
She just smiled back and leaned against him.
"Can't now," he said. "I got the watch for another two hours." He ginned at her. "Afterwards?"
She kissed him and left.
#
The days continued without further major incident. The maneuvering team rotated the Core watch, but there really was little to do on watch, except to be there in the event something did go wrong. Jon took his turn, not so much because he had to, but to make sure the others understood that he was not just the Captain, but also a crew member. Jon made it a habit to visit Doc Bhuta at least once a day in sickbay, just to let her know that he was interested in what she was doing, and to check on the status of Chen. More often than not, when Jon visited Sickbay he found Saeed ministrating to Chen. Otherwise, Saeed was normally near Ari, who had taken on the task of ensuring that Saeed kept his promise.
Jon also stopped by Michele's lab. She was always circumspect, but made it clear that he was at the top of her list. He marveled at how she could make an ordinary jumpsuit seem like a harem pajama, and occasionally regretted his early-on decision to remain above any crew involvement. Frequently, he found Elke in Michele's lab, puttering around and otherwise making herself useful. He had become aware of her sexual orientation shortly after the voyage began, and initially was concerned that it might pose a problem. Michele solved that, however, since she seemed not to care what gender her partner of the moment was, and Elke appeared not to be the jealous type. He suspected that Michele had even pulled Elke into an occasional threesome where she had to interact intimately with a man. He chuckled as he thought about Michele's shenanigans. She was a unique female, if only for that; but then add her scientific competence, and you had an unmatched package – at least so far as his experience went.
Initially, Jon tried to keep track of the couplings, but as the voyage lengthened, and as ways to keep busy became limited, the one eternal human activity had virtually taken over. Jon was a product of modern western culture that viewed casual sexual coupling as a simple part of living, but at fifty, he had established his values when casual coupling was still less casual. With the eradication of sexually transmitted diseases, and the virtual elimination of unwanted pregnancies, the historical Roman Orgy had become a routine part of modern life. Nevertheless, Jon still was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea, and tended to refrain from full-scale participation in the ebb and flow of casual sexual encounters, even when he was not constrained by his leadership position.
So he dreamed, and in his dreams Michele or Ginger and sometimes Michele and Ginger took center stage. Jon knew that Michele would always be focused on her own needs, and suspected that when she made love, she voraciously pursued her own satisfaction. Ginger was another story. She had clearly signaled her availability to Jon, but did not flaunt herself, and that had an even stronger effect on him than Michele's flirting. Whereas he was entirely comfortable with Michele's many liaisons, he found himself strangely jealous when he became aware that Ginger had been with one of the other male crew members. He chided himself when this happened, but he could not rid himself of his reaction.
Jon stood before his port watching Saturn slowly rotate around his field of view – two full revolutions every three minutes. The ringed planet had grown very large, filling nearly half the view. They were on the verge of possibly the most momentous event in human history, and Jon experienced a sense of awe that exceeded even his feeling when he first stepped out on the arid surface of Mars. In less than a day now, they would reel in the tether, reorient the Pullman, and commence the braking burn that would last for about two days. Then they would vector toward their rendezvous with Iapetus, and destiny.
