Solar Express (2 page)

“No, there are not, Dr. Wong-Grant.”

“How far away is it?” That was Alayna's immediate question, and she regretted the careless wording as soon as her words were out. She immediately added, “Assuming a cometary albedo and a solid diameter of fifteen kilometers.”

“Assuming your parameters, the object would be five point five three AU from Sol. From the spectrographic results, the albedo is likely closer to point five with the body having a small diameter, at close to six AU.”

“Could it be on such a high inclination orbit that…” She broke off the question. “Cancel that.” Even at a ninety-degree inclination, something that faint at that distance would still have been in the same observational frame two weeks earlier. Alayna had more questions, but none of them could be answered, not with any degree of accuracy, from the two observations.

That was the thing about observational astronomy. The distances were so vast that even objects moving at comparatively high speeds didn't show much positional change in short time periods, not when viewed from six AU away.

“Do you have any other requirements, Dr. Grant-Wong?”

Alayna would have loved to track the object, whatever it was, but she didn't determine the COFAR viewing priorities. Still …

“Send a complete report on the anomaly to Foundation headquarters and note the spectrographic analysis, especially the silver and silicates.”

“The report has been transmitted.”

“Also, take an observation in twelve hours and another in twenty-four hours.” If, on the off chance the object showed discernible motion, Marcel might be able to determine if it might be an outer system body or a comet.

“If it meets the parameters for a discovery, do you want me to submit a report to the International Astronomical Union?”

“When you have another solid observation, prepare the report. Then let me know.”

“I will do that.”

“Thank you.” Even though Marcel was an AI, he deserved professional courtesy … or rather, she needed to observe professional courtesy.

“You're welcome.”

Alayna returned to the message screen, and her reply to Director-Generale Braun. That was an immediate personal and professional priority. After that, she could complete the report and reply to Basic Science, a definite personal priority. She tried not to think about all the reasons why the Noram Inspector-General might be interested in COFAR.

And, at some time, she needed to send a message to her father, especially before he got worried. If she didn't message at least once every week, preferably more often, he'd message her, wanting to know if she happened to be all right. After all that had happened, she couldn't exactly blame him, but she'd rather do the messaging on her timetable.

 

2

ON
EILL
S
TATION

25 M
ARCH
2114

Chris Tavoian rose from the briefing console in the cramped ready room with the languid grace of experience, a grace learned through more than a few painful reminders that, in the station's approximation of lunar gravity, apparent “weight” did not equate to mass. He wasn't sure whether to smile or shake his head—a frigging investigating team from the Inspector-General's Office of the Noram Assembly. While he doubted that they were terribly interested in pilots, at least not ones currently assigned to Earth-Moon runs, from what he'd heard they asked both hard questions and stupid ones.

As Tavoian moved toward the open hatch leading to the rim walkway to the mess, Liam Keiser, one of the more senior pilots on the station, and a major in the Space Service, gestured. “That's quite an expression, Chris. When's your next run?”

“Late tomorrow. Lunar Low Orbit Station. Three-person team from the Noram Inspector-General's office.”

“You're lucky they're not the Sudam inspectors.”

Tavoian nodded politely. He'd heard some of those stories, although he suspected they were exaggerated. But then, he'd never had to deal with the Policia Espacial, because all the FusEx burners fell under the authority of DOEA, with all pilots holding officers' commissions, and the pilots and other DOEA personnel used the high-speed magline to and from ONeill Station, both under DOEA, as opposed to the elevator's standard climbers and main station, which were under the authority of the Sudam AES, and the Policia Espacial, who tended to be somewhat excessively enthusiastic in dealing with those of an Anglo background.

“Do you know what the inspectors are looking for?”

“The briefing just said periodic and routine inspections of lunar facilities receiving DOEA funding.”

“That's just about everything.” Keiser shook his head, then grinned. “You ever hear from that astronomer you ferried out a couple months back? The one you didn't want me to see?”

“We've exchanged a few messages.” More than a few, but Tavoian wasn't about to admit that. “I'm not getting to Farside anytime soon, and she won't be leaving there until her tour is up.”

“Anyone sent to Farside doesn't do tours. They're one and done, to avoid the rad limits. Cheap highly educated labor.”

“They're almost completely shielded at Farside and at most of the lunar bases.”

“Still cheaper that way. She wasn't bad-looking.”

“She also wasn't interested in anything short-term. She made that very clear.” Tavoian grinned. “If you think otherwise, you could always look her up.”

“I'm not headed that way. If I were, I'd have better things to do than spend my pay on elevator fare down to Nearside and a maglev halfway around Luna.”

“Two maglevs, I hear. The second one's more of a coffin express. Makes the control space of a burner look like a lux-suite.”

“No thanks. Watch out for the slowboats.”

“They have their uses,” replied Tavoian. “Would you want to lug all that stuff?”

“It'd get there faster,” countered Keiser.

“At ten times the cost.” Except that Tavoian knew that transporting something by fusionjet cost more like a hundred or two hundred times that of the vasimr slowboats that shuttled various cargoes between the Earth elevators and the nearside lunar elevator, a structure that actually predated even the first partial Earth elevator. “Where are you headed?”

“Phobos.”

“Slow or fast transit?”

“Middling. Something like a week each way. DOEA's worried about Hel3 stocks, and the Service has to listen.”

Tavoian wondered how Keiser knew that, or if the older pilot were merely speculating. “Inside squib?”

“Don't you read?”

“Read what? I haven't seen anything that mentions that.”

“The financial sheets. Commodity exchanges. The futures price of Hel3 has been up every month, more than twenty percent higher now than at the end of last year. It could be that the Sinese are buying up whatever they can get besides what they're getting from the northern craters.”

“I thought…” Tavoian was about to say that selling Helium three to unauthorized sources was forbidden by the Space Accord, but he knew better, particularly since there was always some multi-type, more often than not, but not exclusively, one from Sudam, who could find a way to make the illegal legal. “Why, do you think?”

“Do you think the lunar Hel3 stocks are unlimited?”

“That might be the beginning of something less desirable. If things don't get better, we might end up being military pilots for real.”

“Things won't get that bad. Not after what resulted from the Middle East Meltdown.”

“That was more than thirty years ago.”

“People forget, and the ones who remember get old and die.” Keiser stretched slowly, then rose. “I'm off to meet with Associate Director Xun Sun.”

“A Sinobloc team? Why are they using a Noram burner? The Sinese burners are almost as fast as ours.”
If not faster.

“It's a joint Noram/Sinese investigation team. Xun Sun is the head of the Noram side.”

“About the nanotech meltdown?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I was told not to ask anything about their mission, and no one's saying.”

“Good luck. When do you break orbit?”

“Early tomorrow. After the last Sinese arrives.” Keiser moved toward the briefing console that Tavoian had left.

As he left the briefing area, Tavoian wondered if he'd ever be as cynical as the older pilot, or if Keiser had just been born that way.

Back in the cubicle that was technically his “cabin,” a space on the innermost section of the habitat wheel, and the one that had the lightest “gravity,” although after all the years in space the spacers and the physicists still argued over whether the spin-created force that approximated gravity was centrifugal or centripetal, Tavoian composed a message, then read it over a last time before he linked to the pilots' network to send it. On Earth or on Luna, they could have linked and talked directly, but personal transspace links weren't allowed, at least not on DOEA installations, ostensibly for reasons of both bandwidth and security, not to mention the costs of real-time, full-image communications … or even burst-sent full-image comm.

Alayna—

Nothing new here. Headed your way—LLOS—with some bureaucrats late tomorrow. Strange how space changes perspective, that I'd think half a moon away is “your way.” I'm still on the local shuttle runs. Hel3 worries have DOEA cutting back on everything. The thing is—I don't see any slowdown in vasimr slowboats bringing it back from the lunar elevator, and all the burners are topped off before each run.

The good thing about shuttle runs is I get hours and experience with lower rads, and that means I can keep piloting longer—and higher pay! Maybe I'll even make major one of these days. Exploration or equipment refit runs in-sys from Earth pile on the rads. Hazpay doesn't really compensate for that. But then, after a while, shuttle runs, well, they're all the same … or close to it. From what you've said, you've actually got a wider range of duties than most pilots. You've got to be astronomer, maintenance tech, ground transporter for that maintenance, cook, and chief bottle washer. All I have to do is to deliver passengers and high priority cargo and not damage anything in the process. Still don't understand why there aren't two of you there.

He paused. She'd said something about that, that there was a mining base south of the crater, and that was deemed close enough for backup. He smiled ironically. It wasn't as though he had any real backup once he lit off a burner. He glanced back at the text.

I never asked you. Do you get any breaks? If you do … where can you go?

Oh … I'm attaching that political book I told you about. I'd like your thoughts on what he has to say, especially the second paragraph on page 37 … if and when you have a moment to read and think.

Tavoian double-checked to make sure the book file was attached before linking, checking the encryption, and sending off the message and the attachment.

Then he accessed the station database and looked up the powers of the Noram Inspector-General.

 

3

D
AEDALUS
B
ASE

26 M
ARCH
2114

Alayna woke to flashing lights in her sleeping cubicle. There was no alarm. That meant a problem, but not an emergency.

“Marcel? What's wrong?” Her voice sounded rough and hoarse, but then it always did when she first woke up, more so at Daedalus Base, with an atmospheric pressure closer to that of Denver than that of New Hampshire.

“A thirty-five-kilometer section of the radio telescope is inoperative. It appears that a hundred-meter section will have to be replaced.”

“Where?” She sat up slowly. It hadn't taken her long at Daedalus Base to realize that quick and abrupt movements when still sleep-fogged could be painful in low grav.

“Four kilometers north and fifteen point three kilometers east of the control center.”

“Why the alarm?”

“In five hours, Arecibo takes control of the telescope for a deep search. The inoperative section has reduced effectiveness by five percent.”

“Frig!” Alayna understood. Unless she could complete the repairs by then the Space Research Institute (Noram) would complain that COFAR's reduced sensitivity had compromised whatever the combined search was investigating. At the least, it wouldn't look good for Alayna. At the worst, SRI headquarters might reduce the payments to the Farside Foundation. She stood and took two steps to the narrow wardrobe, which she opened to locate and extract the one-piece undersuit required for compatibility with the exosuit used for outside lunar surface maintenance.

No matter how sophisticated the system, things happened that needed to be fixed, and decades of experience had shown that a reasonably intelligent and well-trained human being on the spot was far more cost-effective than either excessive redundancy or repeated repair missions, or even AI-controlled robotics. Add to that the fact that sophisticated equipment was more expensive than a nearly endless supply of overeducated young postdoctoral professionals eager to obtain both jobs and experience. During her first week at COFAR, when Luis had walked her through everything, she'd half wondered if she'd ever remember it all, even with Marcel as backup.

The most frustrating part was being so close to such an array of equipment, and being able to use it so little, at least so far. That thought didn't help Alayna's frame of mind as she prepared for the repair mission. Almost half an hour later, she finished suiting up while breathing a high oxygen mixture in order to accommodate the lower pressure and higher oxygen levels she'd be breathing for the next several hours—if not longer.

When she finished the suit pressurization level tests, she opened the suit comm link. “Marcel, comm check.”