Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt
INCOMING MESSAGE
.
It couldn't be from Alayna. Not early in the day. It wasn't. It was from the colonel, and it was short.
Tavoian, Christopher A.
Major, NSC
NSS-21/Recon Three
Report status immediately. No report received for 3 December 2114.
Interrogative CO2 situation.
Tavoian frowned. Hadn't he sent a report? He checked the outgoings. He hadn't. He certainly had more than enough time on his hands to have done so.
You aren't thinking as well as you should be.
“What is our current ETA at Donovan Base?”
CURRENT ETA REMAINS 1830 UTC ON 5 DECEMBER 2114.
Thirty-six hours ⦠thirty-six long hours.
He shook his head.
You'd better see about dealing with the CO2 level.
He left the message unanswered and made his way to the main lock. “Open the outer lock.”
THAT IS NOT RECOMMENDED AT PRESENT SPEED.
Neither is asphyxiating.
“Priority override.”
OUTER LOCK IS OPENING.
“Let me know when the pressure in the outer lock is zero.”
PRESSURE IS ZERO.
“Close the outer lock.” If he had calculated correctly, by venting the outer lock, and repressurizing it, and then opening the inner lock, he should get a reduction in CO2, perhaps getting the ambient level down to around five point four percent.
At that moment, Tavoian realized something, and he could have kicked himself. The lock air had been separate from the air in the rest of the ship. If he'd opened the
inner
lock door first and let the lock air and ship air mix, that would have dropped the overall concentration in the ship's atmosphere by maybe half a percent, since the lock air and ship air would have mixed, and the last time the lock air and ship air had mixed had been back when the ambient level in the ship had been significantly lower. Even if he didn't have the numbers quite right, it would have helped. Then he could have waited for another four or six hours before cycling the lock.
Stupid! Stupid!
But he couldn't undo what he'd just done.
After fifteen minutes, he had the AI open the inner lock door. The air that rushed into the passenger space felt cool and refreshing. Part of that might have been his imagination, but the coolness definitely wasn't imagined.
He made his way back to the control area. He might as well begin his reply to the colonel while he waited to see what the effect of the lock cycling had been.
A second message had arrived, this one from Alayna. He decided to answer the colonel first and methodically composed his reply.
Recon three operating status within parameters, with the exception of CO2 removal system. CO2 system is nonfunctional. Emergency CO2 removal system deployed. Successfully lowered ambient CO2 to five point seven percent. Level returned to six point five percent at 0600 UTC. Cycled lock and reduced CO2 level to â¦
“Interrogative current CO2 level?”
CURRENT CO2 LEVEL IS FIVE POINT EIGHT PERCENT.
 ⦠five point eight percent. Anticipate future rise to seven percent by 0600 UTC, 5 December 2114. Will attempt to cycle lock before beginning decel at 0800 UTC, 5 December 2114.
Recon three remains on schedule ETA of 1830 UTC tomorrow (5 December 2114).
Tavoian didn't know what else to add. So he sent the reply as it stood.
Then he turned to Alayna's message, the first lines of which brought a broad smile to his face. The smile was replaced by a thoughtful frown as he began to read about her mother's death, and then about her worries about her father.
Was that why Kit had never married or had a partner?
Because she worried so much about you and your parents?
Or because she just didn't want any more worries? Tavoian had to admit that he'd never worried that much about his parents. They'd both seemed so capable, almost invulnerable.
Was that a childlike view, one that you never gave up because it was so convenient?
His eyes went back to the message screen, wondering exactly what she had to say about the alien artifact or ancient spacecraft that she was having to work on. That suggested something professional and complicated, but beyond that Tavoian wasn't about to guess.
Her closing lines stunned him. He definitely wanted to see her, but had he really asked? Or had he assumed, and half asked? Either way, he was glad she'd taken it as asking.
Very glad.
Unfortunately, it was likely to be a long time before anything could happen.
He recalled an ancient myth about lovers separated by a strait of treacherous water and how one of them drowned when someone put out the light he was using to navigate. That strait was as nothing compared to the gulf between Alayna and him, even when he was where he was theoretically stationed.
An hour later, another message from the colonel arrived. The rapidity of the colonel's reply bothered Tavoian, and he immediately called it up and began to read, not that he wouldn't have anyway.
Tavoian, Christopher A.
Major, NSC
NSS-21/Recon Three
Received status report. Request you attempt lock cycling prior to 0600 UTC on 5 December for maximum effectiveness.
Be advised that unidentified spacecraft are operating in the vicinity of your deceleration corridor. Believed to be militarized Sinese craft. Do not open hostilities. If attacked, respond with all available force.
Further orders may be forthcoming. Request you assess possible additional offensive capabilities.
Frig! Frig! Frig!
Not only did he have to worry about being asphyxiated in his own ship, but now he had to pass through a gauntlet of “unidentified spacecraft,” which had to be Sinese, and if they were built anything like the one he'd seen at the Solar Express, they'd dwarf his fusionjet. And besides two torps, exactly what sort of additional offensive capabilities did his hastily converted fusionjet have?
He thought about returning Alayna's message immediately, but his stomach was still uneasy, and he had time, a good twenty-four hours of doing little but waiting.
Â
D
AEDALUS
B
ASE
4 D
ECEMBER
2114
The first message to come in on Tuesday was from Alfen Braun, the first communication Alayna had received from the Director-Generale of the Farside Foundation in months. Alayna opened it and began to read with great trepidation.
Dr. Wong-Grant:
I have just finished reviewing your actions following the impact of the coronal mass ejection. You should be pleased to know that your timely actions in sending advance notifications of the event to a wide range of professionals have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. The Foundation has benefited greatly from those actions.
In addition, your initiative in dealing with scheduling and information and data transfers has also been noted. Your actions have been a credit to your expertise and professionalism and have resulted in maintaining the high standards for which the Foundation has become known. While times may be trying in the weeks and months ahead, we look forward to your continued efforts to maintain COFAR operating as close to full efficiency as is possible.
My congratulations and appreciation.
Alfen Braun
Director-Generale
Obviously, something in what Alayna had done had rebounded to her credit. Just as obviously, either Director Wrae hadn't wanted to tell Alayna, or the Director-Generale wanted to do so herself ⦠for political reasons, Alayna had no doubt.
Alayna smiled faintly as she made sure a copy of the message went to her very personal and locked files.
She'd hoped, definitely hoped, that she'd hear from her father. It had been days, and while Lincoln was normally a fairly safe locale, with power still out across much of Noram, and projected not to be restored for weeks or months, no place without power would stay that safe for long. She didn't know, and couldn't find out, the status of power in Lincoln. And no source she could find could even project when that information might be available.
Knowing that she couldn't do more, but still worrying, she went back to work, trying to make sense out of her solar images. Now that COFAR was immersed in lunar night there were no new solar images to study, but that did give Alayna more time to study the last ones the solar array had captured, and when Braun's message had arrived, she had been in the process of comparing the later ones to those just after the solar prominence had erupted.
There was something about the way the mini-granulations were arranged.
More like the way they aren't arranged.
“Marcel ⦠connect all the mini-granulations ⦠I mean highlight them and then link them with the highlighter.”
A good minute passed before the enhanced and adjusted image appeared.
There's something â¦
“Can you analyze the pattern, the line?”
“It approximates a fractal, Dr. Wong-Grant⦔
“But it's not. It could be, couldn't it?” That was a stupid question, Alayna realized. Anything could be tweaked into something approximating a fractal, but that didn't make it one. “Is there a section of the flux lines bordering the multi-fractal mini-granulations that is a fractal?”
“There are three sections.”
“Highlight them, please.”
Alayna studied them, then frowned. The three were all close enough that a larger, regular granulation could have enclosed all three. “They look similar. Are they?”
“At the highest enlargement, they appear to be identical.”
“Save a highlighted image to my research files.”
“The image is saved.”
“Now ⦠highlight any fragments of smaller flux lines that would fit within that same fractal pattern.”
Alayna watched as the image emerged, something that appeared to be almost a fractal-edged sunspot, with fainter lines across the middle. It reminded her of something, something specific, but what exactly she couldn't recall. “Save that enhanced image as well.”
Next. Alayna studied the image of the same section of the sun captured by the main optical array just after the massive CME had burst from the photosphere. Again, there was a similar pattern of magnetic flux lines, clear for only one image. “The main array image I've got on the center screen. How does the flux line pattern compare to the enhanced pattern you just saved?”
“The defined flux lines are fractal. The pattern in those sections is identical to the fractal sections in the images you had enhanced.”
What are the chances of that fractal emerging by chance twice at random?
The word “astronomical” came to mind, and she almost burst out laughing. “Save that image to my research files as well.”
None of the later images showed that level of fractality, not even with Marcel's greater ability to find and enhance.
Alayna was still comparing and puzzling over images at 0946 UTC when she received the one message she'd worried about not getting, the one from Chris.
Dear Alayna,
Your message definitely has me intrigued. I'll be looking forward to the mysterious document that you're working on. Whatever it is, it's bound to be good.
If all goes according to plan, in little more than twenty-four hours I'll begin decel and the final approach back to my station. It should be routine, and after that, and once I'm settled, maybe I can get a decent night's rest. Let me tell you, sleeping in weightless conditions doesn't make for uninterrupted sleep â¦
Sleep? He's talking about sleep, after what he's said before â¦
Alayna frowned. Something was not right. Had he even written what she was reading?
I still can't fathom why the artifact exploded. That's not my field, though. It's yours. Do you have any thoughts on that ⦠or will they be part of that mysterious document?
But that part sounds just like him.
I've been asked to take an inventory of what's left of all the equipment I carted out to the artifact, and I've been surprised both at how much isn't left and how much is. I suppose that's the result of the Space Service's version of packing heavy ⦠understandable considering no one knew what might be there when they sent me off â¦
At times, I do feel that you have a higher opinion of me than I may deserve. You're a brilliant astrophysicist. I'm a pretty bright Space Service officer and pilot. That doesn't compare. I guess I worry ⦠Then again, maybe it's just because it's been a long mission and I'm just plain tired.
Tomorrow's going to be a big day, and I'm not too scintillating now ⦠but I do want to take you up on getting togetherâvery much, and whenever that is, even if it's months or longer.
Alayna blinked. The message was so like Chris ⦠and so unlike, almost bouncing between cheer and reflection.
He's worried. He's really worried, and he's trying to be cheerful.
And that worried her. The more she thought about it, the more she worried.
Finally, she set aside her work and sat down to write a message to him. Whether or not he would get it before he began his deceleration and approach to wherever he was stationed she didn't know. But she needed to write as much for her sake as his.
When she finished, she immediately sent it.
She was still concerned, but she tried to put those concerns aside and concentrate on the other puzzling aspect of what happened to the alien artifact. Just what had that direct line of energy been? The scant amount of data that COFAR's systems had been able to detect and record suggested that whatever had struck the artifact had aspects of an X-ray laser and what amounted to focused high energy particles at temperatures approaching a million degrees Kelvin, in essence the science-fictional idea of a particle beam consisting of hadrons. The problem with that was that it wasn't consistent with quantum mechanics because experiments had shown that even stable protons tended to become unstable at extremely high temperatures.