April 6: And What Goes Around (35 page)

The security
station was in zero G outside the station bearing and in sight of the airlock.
The small shuttle from ISSII would connect directly to the airlock without a
tube like a big landing shuttle or spaceplane. The passengers would leave the
shuttle cabin, step into their own airlock and a bit more than two meters later
exit the station airlock. Passing through four doors, although the gap between
the outer doors of each lock was only a hand's breadth when it was grappled up.

Margaret was
wearing the two tone blue uniform they used in contact with the public. She had
short hair so to retain her beret in zero G she sprayed the edge periodically
with a semi-adhesive that made the surface tacky. People used it on soft bags
and lunch boxes, all sorts of things without a clip or line they wanted to
position and not have drift off.

Home's security
department was not averse to firearms, but given the proximity of vacuum she
wore a Taser. It was however a full powered Air-Taser that didn't use wires. It
projected a charge along two parallel beams ionized in the air. It was not only
lethal at the highest settings but could disrupt or destroy electronics. It
lacked the normal yellow stripes of a non-lethal weapon.

The lectern she
stood behind as a security station helped grounders orient when there was no up
or down and they got befuddled. The top surface was a handy place to put her
sensor package and the touch pad. It was also armored for her to duck behind. It
had little grab bars around three sides so people entering could plant their
feet the same directions as hers and hold on.

Without some
preferred orientation offered many of the Grounders locked up in speechless
incoherence when faced with others moving and speaking in random orientations.
They also couldn't read facial expressions when presented too far off their
axis. It didn't help that some station dwellers delighted in flooding them with
conflicting sensory input just to see their glassy eyed shock. That didn't make
her job checking them in any easier.

The manifest from
ISSII said seven passengers and two crew. Margaret was talking to the seventh
and became aware the fellow waiting behind was not crew. Not all crew wore
uniforms, but there was something about him that said he wasn't as proficient
in zero G as a professional spacer should be. Not a fumbling Earthie but not a
rigger or pilot by any means. He kept easing along instead of waiting, and was
now actually passing behind the last passenger she was checking in. What is
worse she had a red line on her sensor board showing he was running a fever.

"A moment,"
Margaret said to the fellow gripping her lectern. Lifting a single digit to
signal a pause. "You sir!" She raised her voice sharply. "Do not
go further until we have spoken."

The fellow was
using the line they rigged along posts for the less proficient and squatted to
made a desperate jump for the entry bearing when she called him on trying to
ease by. He was off line and was going to hit the bulkhead beside the opening. Margaret
drew and held the Taser our straight armed, taking plenty of time to aim
carefully.

The man in front
of her ducked wild eyed as she extended the Taser just past his ear. It's not
like he could maneuver or zig-zag once he'd jumped. She touched the trigger
lightly and it painted a blue-green dot on his back. She squeezed gently to
take it past the aiming pressure and fire.

Margaret had the
weapon set for a high stunning power level, and beside the hooded light that
blinked red at her rapidly when it discharged it was set to confirm the discharge
with a discrete buzz. The beam was nowhere near the power level needed to be
visible in air.

The fellow who had
ducked turned and looked along the line drawn by her arm. The jumper crumpled loose
limbed against the bulkhead on the other end of the chamber.

"My God, I
thought you were shooting me!" the fellow said with his nose still barely
clearing the top of the lectern.

"Stay right
here," Margaret ordered the cowering fellow. "That man shows a fever
on my sensors and he isn't on the manifest. You've been exposed to him in the
shuttle and we are going to have to isolate you and run down all the other
passengers who rode with you too."

"Oh crap. I
have a work schedule and appointments. This is going to screw everything
up."

Margaret was busy
calling Jon in the middle of his night and didn't acknowledge the man.
"Jon, we've got a gate crasher here, sick. He wasn't on the manifest and he
bolted for the bearing when I called him to stay put."

"Has the
flight crew come through?" Jon asked, rubbing his face still half asleep.

"No, I
thought he might be crew when he was hanging back, then it clicked he was
moving wrong for crew," Margaret said.

"Then I'm
calling traffic control and having them put on a hold. We'll run down the
people you've admitted and give them the option to board and return to ISSII if
they don't want to be put in isolation. What do you need there right now?"
Jon asked.

"A bubble
stretcher and two or more guys in isolation suits to cuff him and stuff him in
it. I don't want to approach him with no suit, so have them rub his hand on a
DNA reader," Margaret requested.

"Thanks, I'll
call Doc Lee and tell him he has another patient to go in isolation. I'll make
that a transfer ball, not just a stretcher, so they can take him directly into
quarantine," Jon said.

"How did he
get aboard at ISSII, past our man at the gate?" Margaret asked.

"I don't
know. But we're going to have a hard talk with the flight crew and demand they
answer questions under truth processing or I'll blacklist them from having
docking rights at Home," Jon said.

"The fellow I
Tasered is drifting toward the bearing. It would be nice if they get here and
pop him in the capsule before the air currents take him through and contaminate
the hub too," Margaret added.

"You had it
on stun I take it? Or you'd be telling me to bring a body bag," Jon asked.

"Yeah, but I
haven't gone over to check his vitals and I'm not going to." Margaret
informed him. "I have no desire to get infected with that crud."

"The guys are
in the elevator already coming up to get him," Jon said. "That should
be fine. They'll decontaminate that side of the bearing after you are all out."

"Thank you
Jon. Sorry to wake you up," Margaret apologized.

"You did
exactly right," Jon assured her. "I should have told you 'Good Job'
already. I don't think we need to isolate you given the level of exposure, but
I'm going to talk to Doc Lee and see. You may have to take a day off and check
your saliva every few hours three or four days from now. He said the virus will
show on a reader if you are becoming contagious before you feel anything.

"So
that's
how you get a day off around here," Margaret
said.

* * *

"How
accurately are the engines spaced out around the
Yuki-onna?
"
Deloris asked Barak.

"I helped
Harold do the survey work. I've never done it before myself, and he wasn't the
best about explaining what he was doing. It was more like – Stand here and hold
this, no, straight away from the surface not on an angle. But I watched and
most of it made sense. He had to get them spaced out but in the same plane. The
plane is set at right angles to a line through the snow ball's center of mass.
We got that pretty accurately because it has enough gravity to pull a plumb bob
straight, if you are patient.

"When he had
me make the final corrections they were only about twenty centimeter moves, so
I figure everything is located at least that accurately in each of three
dimensions. So double that tolerance between any two. I'd mark the ice with
spray dye and we got each engine manhandled onto the mark within fifty
centimeters or so. Add up the variables and they should be within three hundred
centimeters engine to engine on opposite sides."

"I hope
you're right," Deloris said. "The guys back on Home are saying we may
have to do an extra correction or two if they aren't within a meter of where
they are supposed to be."

"What if we
do?" Barak asked her. "We have the time and can do extra if we need
to."

"I guess they
are still counting the expense. We'll be running late to get back as it
is."

"You mean
they'll only be rich instead of filthy rich?" Barak joked.

"Yeah, I
think you have that right, but let's not tell them that bluntly while we are
depending on them for our bonuses and survival," Deloris said. "It
might sound ungrateful to them. Coming up on the burn," she warned.

"Ready and tired
of waiting," said Alice from the jump seat.

The counter in the
screen reached zero and the board showed two adjacent engines firing at thirty
percent, but they couldn't feel it. The attitude display showed a slow roll
from the off-center firing after almost ten minutes. The engines cut off after
twenty minutes and then they waited exactly twenty-three minutes letting it
roll and fired the opposite pair of engines to bring the rolling motion back to
a halt in a bit over an hour. They had imparted a slight forward velocity as
well as rotating the snowball.

"I'm aligning
the star sighting system," Deloris said. It was the first she sounded
stressed to Barak. "If it's anywhere near where they want it pointed we'll
do a slow ramp up and burn on all engines and enough on
Yuki-onna
to
keep us pushed in the ice."

After a few
minutes Deloris said, "We're within a half degree. That's better than they
hoped for. It'll do an auto burn in seven minutes if I don't interrupt it. I'm
sending them the data but we'll be burning well before they receive it. They
wanted us to wait and get confirmation but I argued against it. We aren't total
idiots and can read the attitude numbers and compare them just fine. Why wait?"

When the engines
all fired this time they followed it on the boards. They took a couple minutes
to ramp up to thirty percent power and the sound of the
Yuki-onna's
engines
in the hull was much more apparent than any sound through the ice. Even at low
power.

"Doesn't
exactly press you back in your seat, does it?" Barak said.

Deloris allowed it
wasn't about to, even when they went to eighty percent power later, pushing
tonnage she described in unusually vulgar terms. That was the only sign she
displayed of the tension of her new responsibilities. As far as Barak was
concerned she could name her tons any way she pleased with the burden of
command on her shoulders.

"I'll do the
first twelve hour watch," Deloris said. "If something goes wrong the
engines should all shut down automatically. But if it doesn't that's why we're
sitting watching it. You can listen to music if you wish on speakers, but no
headphones and I'll check on you a few times to see if you're having trouble
staying alert. If you feel sleepy dial down the temperature and configure the
seat like a bench to sit up instead of leaning back on it. If you are
struggling keep setting a count-down alarm on your pad. Any questions?"

"When we do
the longer burns maybe we should do six hour shifts. Think about it,"
Barak said.

"Can you still
get good sleep in shorter shifts?" Deloris asked.

"I don't
know. Twelve hours is just
so
long to sit a watch. Maybe you can ask
them on Home what has proved optimum," Barak suggested.

"That's a
good idea. Somebody has probably done studies about it," Deloris said. "I'll
see you back here at 1400. Alice, if you can manage to split your shift and see
both of us when we are alternating it would be a comfort to not be alone so
long."

"I'd be happy
to," Alice agreed, "and I can bring stuff to the bridge and have a
meal with each of you during your shifts."

"Thanks, Alice. See you mid-shift. Barak, be sure to get your
rest," Deloris said, but she was looking at Alice. Barak wasn't sure exactly
what the message to Alice was. Alice had no questions and seemed to know what
she meant. Undoubtedly it would be much worse for him if they were at odds with
each other instead of happily conspiring, but sometimes he felt helpless having
two women running his life for him.

* * *

"We ran ten
samples from widely scattered areas," Mo reported. "We got a lot more
methane than I expected. Carbon dioxide and monoxide were all over the place.
One sample at seventy two parts per million and another at three hundred eleven
parts per million. It'll average out to be worth doing though I think. I
wouldn't stop backfilling. Just keep backfilling and build the extractors along
the edge as we can. We wouldn't save enough volume by stopping to make any
difference. It's not like we don't have much more regolith within easy reach if
we backfill the whole thing and still need carbon."

"Is the
crater going to fill back up with the displaced rock and regolith or is it
going to mound up?" Heather asked, drawing a hump in the air with her
hand. "Will we need to tamp it down somehow or keep adding material as it
settles?"

"Without air
or water to hold the particles apart or draw them together it will compact back
to near the same volume. The only question I have is if it will be strong
enough to attach the beanstalk Jeff wants to build. You'll have to ask somebody
who knows foundations and anchors."

"What is the
worst case scenario on that?" Heather asked.

"He might
have to run his cable all the way to bedrock," Mo said. "Maybe five
hundred meters. Or Jeff might move the beanstalk off a few kilometers. Then it
would go up at a little angle, but probably not enough to even see by eye. It
is going to oscillate a little with the gravitational variations anyway." 

"That's
really not so bad. It's going to be so long a half kilometer on one end isn't
any big deal. But you do know most of a beanstalk will be
carbon
don't
you?" Heather asked.