Authors: Thomas DePrima
Chief Luscome was laying on a bed in the sickbay. The nanobots had slaved to repair his broken body and he had responded to their efforts. He still wasn't permitted to put pressure on his spine, but even that had improved to the point where he no longer required medication for severe pain.
"Good morning, Captain."
"Chief, I was thinking last night about our problems, and a question popped into my mind. We're headed towards the GA border at Sub-Light-46, but we're traveling ballistic because we had to turn the sub-light engines off when our fuel ran low. Once the tanks are topped off again, we'll reignite the engines and improve our speed. But if we had a larger fuel capacity, we could increase our speed dramatically."
"But our tank size is fixed. There's no way to make them larger."
"No, but we can increase our capacity."
"I don't understa... Are you suggesting we use the water tanks that allowed us to submerge the CPS?"
"Exactly."
Chief Luscome didn't reply right away. He got a far-off look in his eyes and rubbed his forehead a little as he thought. When he had thought it through, he said, "It's possible. We can reroute the flow from the hydrogen collectors directly to the water tanks fairly easily. Then we can feed the larger supply through the regular hydrogen tanks to take advantage of the established flow system. Yes, it should be fairly simple. But it won't increase the rate at which we can pull hydrogen in. The collection process is limited to the collector size. And it will take fifty times longer to top off the tanks."
"That's okay. If we can increase our speed to Sub-Light-100 or higher, and then go ballistic, we'll get to wherever we're headed a lot faster. Over a few months, it will more than make up the time we spent collecting fuel."
"Okay, Captain, but I have to be a part of this effort because we're talking about something that can destroy the entire ship if everything is not done perfectly."
"Of course, Chief."
"And I can't participate until I'm out of here. The doc says he'll spring me in another month."
"That's fine, Chief. We're going to be traveling for a long time, so a month won't matter. I know you're not ready to work on this yet, but I wanted to run it past you so you could be thinking about it."
"Okay, Captain. I'll work on it in my head until my body lets me work on it with my hands."
* * *
"Do you have a few minutes, Captain?" Blade asked from the doorway of her office after the door opened to admit him on her order.
"Of course, Major. Come in."
Blade entered, followed by Staff Sergeant Padu and Lance Corporal Addams.
Once the door had closed, Blade said, "Everyone is concerned about losing our FTL, and it's all they're talking about. Padu and Addams have come up with an idea they'd like to present to you."
"I'm always open to new ideas. What have you come up with, men?"
"Captain," Staff Sergeant Padu said, "each member of the SO team was issued a special new epoxy before this mission. It's designed to seal areas that've been checked for combatants and cleared. It hardens in seconds, and it's better than a heat weld because there's no chance of igniting gas fumes or flammable liquids. Lance Corporal Addams and I have been playing around with it today, and we think it could be used to repair the broken component in the envelope generator."
"I see. You do understand the component was manufactured to very strict tolerances?"
"Yes, ma'am, we do."
"Where's this epoxy now?"
Padu produced a white tube from his pocket and held it out for Sydnee to take. She accepted it and looked it over.
"How do you say this name?" she asked as she tried to pronounce the chemical formulation. It was the only thing written on the tube.
"We don't know, Captain," Addams said. "It's a real tongue-tangler. We just call it Molly."
Sydnee unscrewed the top and squeezed the tube just enough to push out a tiny drop. She deposited it on the framework of a viewpad up near the top where it would be virtually unnoticeable, then put the top back on the tube.
"How long did you say it takes to dry? Seconds?" she said, looking at Padu, who nodded.
Sydnee waited ten seconds, then touched the spot with the viewpad stylus. The outer surface of the drop of epoxy was slightly hardened and none of the epoxy transferred to the stylus, but the dot was still slightly flexible. Looking up at Padu, she said, "It does get hard, right?"
"Like steel, in less than a minute. But in ten seconds it's already hardening, and you can't open the door where it was used unless you use a laser torch to cut through the epoxy."
"Is it flammable?"
"No, ma'am."
"I don't know if a repair to the damaged part is possible or not, but I'll discuss it with Chief Luscome and get back to you. Dismissed."
"Thank you, Captain," Blade said and followed the Marines out of the cramped office.
"That's the proposal, Chief. They think they can repair the fractured component with this." Sydnee handed him the tube of epoxy.
"I just don't know, Captain. My first reaction is that the part can't be fixed— but who knows? And it might be the only shot we've got."
"What about using the same part from the old generator? I know most of the components were fried, but was the induction coil destroyed?"
"We thought of that, but the military generator is too dissimilar from the freighter versions, even if the original could be used."
"So this might be our only hope."
"I don't think
might
applies here. I'll perform some tests on this epoxy and see if it offers a chance of working," Luscome said as he looked at the tube. "Ya know, I heard of this stuff quite a while back, but I've never been able to get my hands on any. I put in three requisitions while we were on the
Perry
, but they were always rejected with the reason marked 'Out of Stock.'"
"If this doesn't work, all we'll have is the sub-light engines. Give it your best shot, Chief."
"Will do, Captain. Do you still want me to work on the hydrogen system?"
"If this works, we won't need it. Let's put all our effort into this idea."
Over the next several days, Luscome worked with Padu and Addams on developing a plan for the attempted repair.
"It appears we'll have just seconds once we start," Luscome said. "We have to spread the epoxy quickly and evenly, then join the two pieces together under pressure. If the alignment is off even a fraction of an inch, it's all over. We only get one shot."
"We need a jig," Padu said.
"What kind of jig?"
"You know, a jig. A jig that only allows the pieces to slide together one way. That way we can't screw it up."
"Yeah," Addams said. "And to make sure they can't buckle at the fissure. Once we slide them together, their alignment can only be perfect if there's no allowance for shifting or buckling."
"How do we guarantee an even coating of epoxy on the two surfaces?" Luscome asked.
"Some kind of brush, I suppose," Padu said. "We can't just squirt it out of the tube."
"Hey, how about a toothbrush?" Addams said.
"It might work," Luscome said. "And how about we put a piece of masking tape on the top surface of the broken halves. We squirt some epoxy onto the toothbrush, then quickly brush it along one side of the break. We slide the pieces together in the jig and lock them in place to set up, then rip the masking tape off the top to remove the excess epoxy."
"Sounds like a plan," Padu said.
The two Marines, with Luscome supervising, spent the next week designing the jig and manufacturing it from wood scavenged from the pallet that had held the generator at the reclamation center. Once the jig was ready, they practiced the procedure over and over without epoxy until they felt they had the process down.
Very little happened aboard a military ship without the full knowledge of the crew. The term scuttlebutt purportedly originated aboard sailing ships many centuries ago. Fresh water was available on deck in a scuttled butt. Butt was the term for the cask, and scuttled meant that it had been damaged; i.e., the end was broken open to provide easy access to the water. This was the original office water cooler where rumors and gossip were exchanged when people paused their daily routines to get a drink. Rumors always spread like wildfire, and, as a result, secrets didn't last very long in the close confines aboard a ship.
Two weeks after the idea was first proposed, the three-man team was ready to try the epoxy procedure for real. They knew how much was riding on them and that this was a one-shot deal. They were appropriately nervous. What they didn't know, and which would have made them even more nervous, was that the entire crew was looking on. Someone had happened across the vid frequencies the trio was using for transmitting the images of the work progress from MAT-Two to the sickbay. As the trio began the final step in the repair, every pair of eyes on the ship was glued to a monitor somewhere, whether it was the large monitor in the dining room of the habitat, the monitor on the wall of Sydnee's office, or even the ultra large monitor at the front of the bridge. The outcome could dramatically affect everyone on board, and everyone was naturally and intensely interested in watching.
Luscome was watching on the monitor in the sickbay, while Padu and Addams prepared themselves in the work area. When all was set, Padu and Addams took a depth breath, then Padu brushed on the epoxy. As the toothbrush cleared the edge of the plate, Addams gently but firmly pushed the loose half, secured to a wooden plate that only allowed it to slide one way, tightly against the anchored half and clamped it down with a wood brace. Padu pulled the masking tape off both sides a second later as the excess epoxy stopped spreading out over the break. Then both men leaned back and began breathing again.
In the sickbay, Luscome realized he too had been holding his breath. He released what he had in his lungs and drew a deep breath of fresh air. Throughout the ship, everyone was doing the same.
"Good job, guys," Luscome said. "If this works, you get all the credit."
"When will we know if it worked?" Padu asked.
"I know the epoxy is supposed to dry rock-hard in less than sixty seconds, but let's give it five minutes in the jig. After that, if the bond is holding, we can move to step two."
"What's step two?" Addams asked. "We've only discussed step one until now."
"In the engineering area, there's a laser saw with an extremely fine focus. We'll mount the piece on it and carefully guide the laser across the top and bottom surface of the repaired piece to remove any excess epoxy. We got most of the epoxy on the top, but I'm sure there's going to be some dripping out under the piece. The laser saw will allow us to cut down to within a micron of the plate's surface."
"Is that necessary?" Addams asked.
"Yes, to maintain the integrity of the electrical flow in the piece."
"Then what?" Padu asked.
"Then we begin our testing. We'll perform the same tests we performed when we were looking for the original problems. The results of those tests will tell us if we were successful. If the repair allows us to achieve even Light-1, it will have been a success."
"At Light-1, it will take us almost seven hundred seventy years to get to GA space," Padu said. "I was hoping for a bit better."
"As am I," Luscome said, "but even Light-1 is faster than any of the sub-light speeds, which is where we are right now. I'm just trying to remain realistic so no one becomes too depressed if this repair doesn't work. And let's keep news of this work to ourselves until we know if we were successful."
All over the small ship people were turning off the monitors. They realized there was still more work to do and great results were still possible, but their enthusiasm was dampened slightly by Luscome's practicality.
* * *
"That's it," Padu said the next morning as he removed the piece from the laser saw and visually examined the cutting work. "You can't tell the piece was ever broken."
"The human eye can't see things smaller than five microns," Luscome said, "so you'd need a microscope to see any residual epoxy on the surface. And if there's only a micron of epoxy remaining there, it shouldn't affect the performance of the piece."
"What now, Chief?" Addams asked.
"As soon as you guys are rested, we begin the tests."
"I'm rested," Padu said.
"So am I," Addams said. "I want to get on with it."
"Okay, guys. Let the testing begin."
"The tests indicate that piece should function in the generator, Captain," Luscome said to Sydnee after she went to visit him in the sickbay. "It's mounted in the unit, and we're ready to take it topside and bolt the unit to the extension shaft."
"That's wonderful news, Chief. What kind of speed can we expect to attain?"
"I wish I could give you that information, ma'am, but I can't. All we know for sure is that the broken piece is whole, and current appears to be flowing properly. We won't know if the piece will perform properly when the envelope process begins, if it will actually coalesce an envelope, or even if it will last in the sub-freezing temperatures of space."
"You think the epoxy might fail from the cold?"
"I don't know. I couldn't find any specs or test data in the ship's DB. All we can do is mount it and give it a try."
"When do you want to mount it?"
"As soon as you can stop the ship."
"Is that necessary?"
"It's prudent. It's safer for the people who have to work outside."
Sydnee mulled the matter over in her head for a minute. While traveling ballistically, that is, at a constant speed with no chance for deviation, there was no sense of movement in space. Anything traveling with the ship at that point would likewise be traveling at the same constant speed and in the same direction. It wasn't like being atop a vehicle in atmo where you had to consider wind resistance and gravity, and where, if someone were to fall off, they would be left behind and lost.
"I see no advantage in stopping the ship, Chief. If we were traveling FTL, it would make perfect sense because the envelope wouldn't encapsulate anyone outside the ship. But I see no benefit in stopping and an enormous potential downside in doing so. If the generator fails to function, we'll have exhausted our hydrogen supply stopping the ship, and it'll be weeks before we can collect enough to proceed again. In the meantime we'll be helpless to even move the ship if an emergency arises. The oh-gee engines are useless in space, so I can't see wasting our fuel just to give someone peace of mind about a problem that doesn't exist."