Approaching Oblivion (Jezebel's Ladder Book 4) (18 page)

Chapter 19 – The Labyrinth from Above

 

Once Red established a
target orbit for
Sanctuary
a few hours later, she briefed four other
planners. Nadia substituted for Mercy, and Auckland sat in for the final
medical discussion. “According to Yuki, Labyrinth
revolves around
Daedalus every sixteen of our hours. The moon completes a rotation on its axis
every 160 hours—roughly five L days facing the planet and five L days facing
away. We’ll call this the L week. If we stay locked to this rhythm, we’ll
always be in the same relative position at each point in the cycle and can stay
safe from radiation indefinitely.”

Sojiro objected. “Wouldn’t that be
more like a month?”

“Too short,” Lou replied.

“A wonth?”

“Thounds like a listhp.”

“How about lunar cycle? We could
abbreviate it lunacycle.”

“A ten-week, which we could
abbreviate tweek,” Lou bantered back with a grin.

Red was bending the wooden pointer
stick in her hand almost to the point of breaking.

Zeiss smiled. “Stop heckling her,
boys, or you give the next presentation. L week is fine. If you convert to
hours, it equates to 1.05 Earth weeks—close enough for a UN resolution.”

“Thank you,” Red said, with a
withering glare at Lou. Too bad he couldn’t see it. She displayed a slide of
the proposed curves and intercept times.

Zeiss said, “I validated these to
four decimal places on the revised computer model.”

When everyone approved, Red said,
“We’re only going to learn enough to finish our mission through massive amounts
of observation. The first orbit, we’ll do a coarse map of Labyrinth with Yuki’s
old library of sampling programs. Next, we’ll focus on a narrow band and
collect details. We’ll use information from the first few orbits to plan the
best path for the orbital probe. From now on, we record
everything
to a
database with copies to our own secure computer system. Like Wikipedia, anyone
can add to or notate the information, but each change must be signed by two
crew members. I’ve disabled deletion to prevent tampering.”

Zeiss nodded. “We’ll try that
approach until the amount of data becomes too unwieldy. Then we’ll have some
spare time to build a data-management system we can trust.”

Nadia wrinkled her brow. “If we are
already orbiting, why do we need a probe? Better still, how did we sneak it on
board a prototype shuttle performing a speed test?”

Professor Zeiss shifted into
lecture mode. “There are two probes built into the base design of the Tetra
series. Just as the earlier Angel series of shuttle was designed for lunar
traffic, the Tetras were officially built with Mars missions in mind. Half our
long-range sensors and comm gear in the nose cone can be launched in a small
orbiting bundle. This satellite could have been used as a radio relay if we
landed out of Earth’s line of sight or in a Martian dust storm. Most important for
our colony deployment is the gear for weather monitoring and prediction. The
sensors and camera on board could also be used in scouting a landing place for
probe number two—the rover.”

“She asked you what time it was,
and you told her how to build a grandfather clock,” complained Lou.

The commander ignored the request
to hurry. “The rover is more sophisticated than its ancestors due to
nanotechnology. Even so, it is half batteries by weight. Every square
centimeter of it is covered in solar fabric. It can handle a substantial
communication delay with complex orders or operate remotely by joystick. Once
the rover scouts a few potential landing zones, we’ll pick where
Ascension
touches down for the observation colony.”

“Spook Central,” said Sojiro. “Once
that’s established, we learn everything about the aborigines we can while
remaining unseen. We crack their language, figure out what they need, give them
twenty-seven brilliant pages, and head home heroes by dinnertime. Simple.”

Lou said, “And now the medical-monitoring
committee.”

“I don’t know,” Red said. “I think
we should talk about how the limited number of pods affects our colony’s
strategy.”

Mercy’s husband growled in
frustration while Zeiss picked up on the cue. “True. We have about fifty-one
pods left. Each is good for a single decontamination. If we launch both probes,
we’ll need a minimum of three astronauts for each task. Using three for each
return to Olympus will leave us with only forty-five for the rest of the
mission.”

“So we have the launchers wait up
in the landing bay until we decide where to launch probe two,” Lou said.

“Harsh,” Red replied.

“A couple weeks. Herk can take it
in exchange for new skin.”

“Still might not be enough. What
happens when the pods run out? Is anyone left outside unable to return? Are
they forever banned from paradise? We have about 315 L weeks until our
scheduled jump home. That means we can only send a pilot out with the shuttle
every seven L weeks or so.”

Zeiss shook his head. “We should
decide later when we know more. I’m not comfortable with
Ascension
landing anywhere until it has fuel available to lift off again on short
notice.”

“Now . . .” Red paused, forcing Lou
to lean forward in his seat. “The medical-monitoring committee has three
questions to address before we can approve the injections. One: di
d the Magi tamper with Mercy’s treatment after
Toby created it?”

“If
Snowflake did anything like that, it would be for Mercy’s benefit,” Lou
replied.

Auckland
added, “Dr. Baatjies placed a sticker over each
sealed test tube with his signature and the lot number. I saw no extraneous
needle marks.”

“Fair
enough. Two: did Toby do anything malicious?”

Again
Lou replied in the negative. “He’s no saint, but I really do think the Ethics
reformatting made our favorite psychopath honest. He could’ve escaped at any
time. Toby had to live off recycled urine after his water ran out. That’s
bloody dedication in my book. If he wanted to hurt her, he’d have left on day
one.”

“Unless
it was a particularly subtle side effect,” Auckland suggested.

Red
tried not to grin. “Like being attracted to people who look like Toby.”

“Thank
you for that pleasant thought,” Lou said with a grimace. “If he’s capable of
harming Mercy, he could do the same to any of us. In that case, he would’ve
done it here or in the Hollow already. I think he’ll stay a good boy as long as
there’s any remote hope that Yvette will forgive him. If she ever divorces him
and he goes rogue, I don’t want to be in the same star system as that twisted
fuck. I’ve bought yellowcake uranium from blokes that scare me less.”

“Amen,”
Red agreed. “So we’re left with only question number three to stand in our way.
Did Toby make a mistake?”

Auckland
interjected, “The documentation for the
procedure is well done. The steps are simple, and the theory is sound. If there
is a problem, I’m not smart enough to see it. This biochemistry is years beyond
anything I’ve ever attempted.”

“If
you had to assign a number to the chances for a side effect, what would it be?”
Zeiss asked.

The
doctor sighed. “With Mercy, 90 percent. She’s hypersensitive to even normal
medications. Now how severe that reaction will be, I can’t predict. No one can.
We can only hope that she can endure it until we can send her through the
deep-cleaning pod cycle to fix it.”

Lou
pointed to Auckland. “That, my friends is why we must do it. Without her, there
is no orbit and no super-healing magic wand. If Mercy had a vote, she’d tell
you to do it. Any opposed?”

The
doctor raised his hand. “We need more testing.”

“Will
every guinea pig on this habitat tell you what you need to know beyond a shadow
of doubt?” asked Lou.

“No.”

“Then
we’re wasting time. I need my gravity sense back soon, Doc, or we’re all
cooked.”

“We
don’t know about interactions. What if the new injection prevents the
suppression drugs from leaving her system? What if she never gets her talents
back?”

“No
offense to Yuki, but Mercy would cut off any limb or sense of your choice to
have that baby. You know that.”

Auckland
’s shoulders slumped. He looked like the old man
Yuki always accused him of being. “The rest of the committee already outvoted
me. I just thought you should hear my side. First, do no harm.”

“We
thank you for your role as conscience, doctor,” Lou said sincerely.

The
planners voted unanimously to perform the experiment and adjourned the meeting
to the stasis chamber immediately thereafter.

The
actual injections were targeted by a medical scanner and took only a minute
apiece. No effects manifested for the first twenty-four hours, after which
Lou’s gravity sense improved steadily. Soon after, Mercy’s glucose and
white-blood-cell counts began returning to normal. When he heard this news, Lou
responded, “Bugger. Now I have to go to church every Sunday in the barn.”

“You?”
Red said with disbelief.

“It
was sort of a deal I made with God,” Lou explained.

“This
is October twenty-fourth. Thirteen weeks till we can hold Stewart,” Mercy
whispered. “We can make it.”

****

At
the end of the first L week of orbit, the women of the crew held a Halloween
baby shower to present Mercy with a maternity gown, a cotton print covered with
tiny flowers. That evening she wore it to the planners’ meeting. Both Mercy and
Yuki reclined in padded chairs, attended by their nervous men and Auckland. Each had a presentation to make about recent discoveries.

Mercy
won the coin toss and spoke first, although she remained seated. “Snowflake has
been evasive about the pods we use to reenter
Sanctuary
. The primary
purpose is to maintain a sterile ship, but a special feature can be triggered
by rotating the pod so that the occupant descends headfirst. During the initial
cleansing,
Sanctuary
took a kind of baseline for each of us. By
activating the return to baseline feature, we can theoretically restore things
we’ve lost.”

“Regeneration—like
my arm?” Yuki asked. She was wearing a new honey-colored kimono with her hair
in a traditional bun. The scars appeared to be healing nicely, and only the
small bandage on her forehead was visible.

“Yes.
I’m not sure I trust the pods for more than a day before negative effects
accrue, but in that amount of time, Snowflake assures me you could regrow the
existing bone. Although anatomy isn’t his strong suit, he insists fixing the
original would have been far easier.”

“Anti-aging
treatments?” Zeiss asked. He wore his usual dress uniform with new socks that
improved leg circulation.

Mercy
nodded. “To the age you were at the snapshot. You may have to soak a while to
get there depending on the damage.”

“Weight
loss?” asked Red. “What? It’s hard to stay fit in zero g.”

“Yes.”

“Could
you use it for your pregnancy?” asked Auckland.

“No.
That would be two occupants, and Stewart has no initial snapshot.”

“If
you went through afterward, would it make you a virgin again?” asked Lou.

Several
women hit him.

“I
suppose, if that were my worst injury,” Mercy said with a blush. “It
concentrates on the worst problem first.”

“I
know you asked about Lou’s eyesight,” Red said.

Mercy
looked at the floor. “They’re not good at fine manipulation with living brain
structure. With Z it was just removing blockage and reducing swelling.
Repairing the optic nerve would be . . . tricky. They would risk resetting his
neurons in the area to the snapshot setting, and the repair might not be
successful.”

Red
said, “Losing all memory of this journey and your marriage for a maybe? Aside
from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?”

“Snowflake
said that eight to ten lighter cycles may do gradually for Lou what a single
deep cycle could not.”

Zeiss
asked, “Any other limitations?”

“You
can’t use the reentry shower till the cycle is complete.”

“I
meant power, minerals, or other resources,” Zeiss clarified.

“All
of that, I’m sure. Though, other than spending the pod and the time, it’s
unclear. Snowflake is more evasive than the head of the Federal Reserve Bank at
a press conference.”

“Thanks,
we know a lot more than we did, and none of us could even get him to talk,”
Zeiss said. “Anything else?”

“Um
. . . freezing the control room took a great deal of fuel to initiate, but
could be held indefinitely for a small additional overhead—less air and water
than we’d consume awake.” Mercy was uncomfortable with this trade-off, but Lou
had insisted she share it with the team.

“At
what point does it make economic sense?”

“It’s
really only for dire emergencies.”

“I
know you already plotted the graph. Where do the curves intersect?”

“At
almost five weeks.”

Zeiss
nodded. “If things go poorly, everyone not on Labyrinth can take shelter in the
command center for a year at a time. We pop our heads out like a groundhog, and
if things didn’t improve, we could go back in our hole.”

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