Solar Express (50 page)

The problem remained—an artifact that was either propelling itself faster than gravitation attraction with no detectable means of propulsion or acting as if it had a mass in a solar range.

Chris had postulated that the gray columns in the large chamber represented some form of propulsion system, and there were nozzles above them. But if the hull shared the same controlled plasticity as the interior, then why were the circles on the hull so fractionally discolored? If they were the openings for the drive “exhaust,” then the circles retracted and wouldn't be any more affected than the area around the circles.

What if they weren't retracted at all? What sort of drive would that imply?

Gravitons?

Alayna almost shook her head. From what she recalled about gravitons was that until they reached extremely high energy levels, Planck Scale levels, their force over “near space” was negligible … at least in terms of doing something like moving a large mass. But at Planck Scale levels … except that required energy levels equivalent to a small black hole …

How could anything even contain that kind of energy?

Chris's reports showed latent photosensitivity … but unidirectional … energy in, but not out.

Of course!

Then she shook her head. That wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Still …

Five hours later, she had more observations of higher latitude solar multi-fractals, on a scale she hadn't seen before and was still wrestling with the whole question of a graviton drive, her coldly rational side pointing out that even if gravitons existed, they were massless particles both at rest and as manifested as gravity waves, and accelerated particles that had mass couldn't provide propulsion.

At that point, the message from Emma arrived.

Alayna—

And I thought our instrumentation might be questionable! No. We're seeing the same things you are. Your figures are probably more accurate. If this isn't an aberration of a few days, we're on schedule—as if anything solar can be scheduled—for the most restrained solar minimum ever.

Your Solar Express—and I'll always think of it as yours (I've put in a few mentions in a few places, and Jay Mehlin was most impressed with your response)—your Solar Express looks like it will put on quite a show. Send me some images if it's possible.

Dorcaster is playing realiestar as if he knew what your artifact is. When it's all over, do let me know. I know there's more you're not saying. Much more.

Alayna smiled. Emma might come across as a gushy type, but the brain behind that warm exterior was a superchilled quantum computer.
And that means you'd better find a way to let her know some of what you do … without letting the world know as well.

In the meantime, Alayna decided she needed to get on with seeing if any of her correlation programs were showing anything.

 

70

R
ECON
T
HREE

28 N
OVEMBER
2114

By 1015 UTC, Tavoian was bleary-eyed after almost seventeen hours of alternating two-hour periods of acceleration and zero grav. He'd never been that good at having his sleep disturbed, but that hadn't been a problem when he had been piloting two- and three-hour trips between various Earth and lunar orbit stations. After having an egg bagel sandwich breakfast, and lukewarm tea that should have been hot, but hadn't been and wouldn't be, he stared at the control displays.

He still had a headache, and it didn't help that the CO2 level was still rising, now at two point seven percent, although he wondered if his headache was as much from worry and fatigue as from CO2. Two point seven percent wasn't that bad. People had endured those levels for weeks without even long-term effects.
Just so long as it doesn't get too high too quickly.
Because there was no way he was getting back to where he could leave the ship for a bit more than a week. Eight more days, plus close to eight hours of decel and zero grav.

Earlier, much earlier, almost twelve hours ago, he had dispatched a message to the colonel, but only after the first two-hour acceleration leaving the artifact. So far there had been no response. In the meantime, there was little Tavoian could do except go over the last images recorded before he left the artifact and see if he'd missed anything. That, and look at the monitors and screens that showed very little, a reminder of just how empty space was. He did both.

The colonel's daily message arrived at 0817 UTC, along with the news summary, and a message from Alayna, date stamped as being sent at 0814 UTC on November 27, 2114.

So kind of them to delay it a full day.

Tavoian decided to read the colonel's message immediately, if only to gauge just how much trouble he might be in.

Tavoian, Christopher A.

Major, NSC

NSS-21/Recon Three

Understand departure rationale. Regret inability to remain on station longer. SC confirms excessive speed of artifact.

So he actually went to Space Command to see if what you reported was accurate.
Tavoian smiled crookedly. In the colonel's position, he probably would have done the same thing.

Maintenance suggests you check the following settings on the atmosphere controls …

Tavoian did. He could do that remotely. The settings matched those recommended.

 … If they match, reset the air heating ten degrees higher and see if this improves system efficiency. Wait at least two hours to determine effect. It is strongly recommended you not increase the air heat more than a maximum of thirty degrees over the recommended setting. Thermostat settings have proved variable in the past.

Variable? Great! What else?

There weren't any other suggestions for dealing with the CO2 problem.

Your last report did not contain latest images and data. Request you provide those at your earliest convenience.

For obvious reasons, Tavoian hadn't taken the time to report when he had discovered just how fast Recon three had been traveling and how much closer to the sun he had been than anyone had originally anticipated. He'd been more interested in resolving the “small” difficulty of departing before it would have become even more difficult for him to survive the return. After that … it had just skipped his mind.

So the next thing he did was head back to the atmosphere control panel, which was behind a security lock in the cargo space. For a moment, he wondered if the techs had forgotten to recode the lock to him, but it finally opened. He made the settings. Out of concern with the sluggish lock, he left the panel unlocked when he returned to the controls.

Next he went to work on composing the report for the colonel, making certain he found and included the most recent images from before he had left the artifact, including one, if from a slight distance, of the Sinese assembly being towed back to the larger Sinese vessel. It was almost an hour later before he sent off the report and turned to Alayna's message.

He smiled as he read the words about her work, but the smile vanished as he came to the part about the artifact's projected speed.
And the frigging colonel held up her message until after you found out that you'd have been fried or asphyxiated if you'd depended on his information and mission plan. And all he'd said was to remain with the artifact as long as it was safe to do so.

Reading over her message again, Tavoian could sense the worry and concern behind the words.
You're getting more support and better advice from a woman you barely know than from your own organization.
Except that wasn't quite true. After almost a year of messaging, he felt he knew Alayna better than most people. She'd even taken risks, possibly jeopardizing her future, in informing him and the Space Service about the nature of the artifact.

Why had the colonel left it up to him? With no real warning? But that wasn't true. The colonel had to have read Alayna's message. Or had the colonel been under pressure to keep Tavoian looking for the elusive technology of the ancient aliens for as long as possible … and leaving it to Tavoian in terms of safety was the most he could do? Tavoian didn't know what to think, and he might never know.
One way or the other.

He was still mulling all that over, thinking of how to reply, when the message from Kit arrived.

Dear Chris,

I haven't heard from you. I continue to hope all is well with you …

It's been less than a day …
He frowned. A day ago had been her last message to him, but when had he actually last messaged
her
? He checked his outgoings.
The twenty-fifth? Three days ago?
Things had been hectic, but still … he should have answered sooner, much sooner. He kept reading.

Mother still hanging on, longer than we had thought, but she's so frail, and so helpless. She still has moments when she's fully alert, but it takes her so much effort …

Tavoian continued to read. When he finished, he reread the message.
There's something … it's not right.
Had their mother already died, and was Kit keeping it from him, worried that he might already be handling more than he should be? Yet …
You've never once suggested you're in danger.
He paused.
You've also never denied it, and Kit knows you … and she deserves an immediate answer.

He began his response.

Dear Kit—

I get the feeling that matters are even worse with Mother and Dad than you're letting on, and that you may be keeping things from me because I'm in danger or not in the best position. I hope, probably vainly, because you've done your best to protect me, that this isn't so, but you have a reason for your concerns, although it appears the reasons may be lessening.

THE CO2 LEVEL IS NOW AT TWO POINT NINE PERCENT. ALL SYSTEMS REMAIN WITHIN OPERATIONAL PARAMETERS.

Frig! Maybe the system hasn't had time to respond to the changes.
He thought about readjusting the air temperature in the CO2 removal section of the atmosphere control system once more.
Give it another hour.
He forced himself back to the message.

You may have read about the Noram mission to the alien artifact, the Solar Express. It required a pilot. You can fill in the details. I'm on the way back now. I couldn't stay any longer, not that close to the sun. I can't say much right now, but it is an artifact, and it's definitely alien, and it's been in orbit around the sun for a long, long time. When we left, I didn't have any idea about Mom. Obviously, there wasn't much I could do at that point, but even if I hadn't been doing what I'm doing, no one was or is getting Earthside leaves, not with all the trouble between the Sinese and the rest of the world … and solar system, I suppose …

When he finished, he read through it, and then sent it off. Would the colonel let it go through? He had no idea, but Kit certainly wouldn't know if he didn't try.
Even if he doesn't, you'll feel better for trying.
He had his doubts about that rationalization. He should have messaged Kit sooner.

He still needed to reply to Alayna, and he definitely had the time, more than enough time, considering how little real work he had to do … although it wouldn't hurt to do a better job of reorganizing the gear he'd so hurriedly secured the day before.

Dear Alayna—

I just received your message a few minutes ago. If you've observed your artifact, you can see where I'm not. If you hadn't made me aware, early on, of the increasing speed of the artifact, matters could have become somewhat problematical, if not worse. My departure was rather hasty.

The construction of the artifact suggests that it is capable of withstanding enormous energies and perhaps even utilizing them. I have to wonder if its course toward such a close encounter with the sun was not planned before whatever happened to the main body occurred and if the fragment that is the artifact is just continuing on a course determined tens of thousands of years ago. If so, it is quite possible that it will survive its encounter. In fact, I would be surprised if it did not. Obviously, my ship is not designed for that. I will be unable to witness what happens, but as you can, I would hope you will keep me informed.

I haven't mentioned this earlier, but just after I left on this mission, I received word that my mother had contracted T3. Kit has been keeping me informed, but the disease is so nasty and so resistant to almost anything that it's not likely I'll be able to return in time …

Tavoian couldn't bring himself to spell out directly what he knew was about to happen to his mother, if indeed, it hadn't happened already.

 … it gives me some better sense of how you must have felt when you lost your mother so suddenly. I'm still a bit numb about it all.

I hope I'm not sounding maudlin, but when you see something as magnificent as the artifact, severed from whatever incredible ship the aliens constructed as if it were nothing and left blindly orbiting a nondescript star, one of possibly two hundred billion suns in our galaxy alone, in turn one of more than three hundred billion known galaxies in the universe, and when at one moment, someone you love can be there, and just as quickly gone, it makes you, or at least me, question why anyone would push to the point of destroying billions of people who would rather live under different governments and systems, not to mention the threat to their own people. The universe could care less, and one way or another, the future, if there is one, will forget. If there isn't a future, what's the point of all that destruction? So what's the point of trying to stop another space elevator by destroying most if not all of civilization? I don't know. Maybe I'm just too tired to see this clearly.

It took Tavoian more than a little time to come up with an appropriate quote, but time was no longer as pressing as it had been just a day before.