Trajectory Book 1 (New Providence) Read online

  “Control, this is Making Time. Going quiet, switching to low-bandwidth. See you in two weeks, over and out.” They wouldn’t bother waiting for another acknowledgement. Hal pulled in the last blob of data from the network before shutting down the ship’s radios. They’d be transmitting and receiving only text and telemetry from here out. The gigantic ship engine’s interference severely degraded their ability to stay connected to the network while under power. They’d learned early on that analog voice transmissions over radio frequency were little more than a garbled mess when exposed to the emissions of a burning fusion reactor and the low-bandwidth didn’t give them enough data to encode the transmissions in anything but very crude digital sound. So they used text.

  “Looks like we’re good to go, Dad.”

  “That’s captain to you, Ensign.” Hal smirked and straightened the photograph taped to the console of his wife and the two kids. The smirk faded. He still couldn’t get used to his wife being gone. He missed her so much. Sometimes he wished he could stay out here in space forever. It was peaceful. The work was important. Their ship was more of a home to him than his empty apartment. If it wasn’t for his daughter… Be home soon, Tam. He put his finger on the picture for just a moment, one more time. “Ignition start for Mars burn in 10… 9…”

  “Board is green. Priming.” Another flurry of switches as Jerem sent power to the fuel compression system. The lights flickered as the core drew every available watt of power from the ship. He tightened his straps again and his father did the same. They exchanged a look as they waited for the engine to signal its readiness.

  The cabin lights dimmed as power was transferred to the batteries, disconnected from the fuel cells that diverted all their energy to the super capacitors used to ignite the reactor that would power their trip across a hundred million kilometers of space. A low thrumming filled the cockpit as the engine crushed the fuel into fusible metal hydrogen.

  “… 2… 1… Main engine burn.” Hal hit the switch and a tiny star ignited in the asteroid belt and began its slow fall through darkness.

  004

  New Providence: Nicola Tesla University.

  “There it is!”

  Emma and Tamra were both staring at the screen, watching what appeared to be a field of stars. The screen on Emma’s tablet was showing the output from the ten meter telescope facility on Olympus Mons.

  Emma started the counter. “Next flash should be in about 22 minutes, and point-two arc seconds west.” She sat back on the couch in the corner of the science wing library.

  Tamra was losing interest now that the object seemed to be predictable. She slid down to the floor and pulled out her own tablet from her bag, scanned for messages from Greg. He was quiet again and still not going to class. When she found no messages waiting, she looked back up at Emma. “We’re going to have to report it.” Tam didn’t like the idea of keeping something in space a secret. They’d always been told in astronomy class to share findings as soon as possible to get more eyes on whatever it might be.

  “Just a little longer. I want to make sure I’ve got the orbit right.” Emma twirled a strand of curly hair while tapping numbers into the pad’s calculator. New discoveries were rare things these days. Most of the asteroid belt had been well-mapped since the late twentieth century and onward. Every once in awhile a comet or stray object looped back into the system from further out. If this was in a stable orbit inside the belt, it would be unusual.

  “But what if it’s not an asteroid? It could be … something else. People might need to know about it.”

  Emma ignored her for a second trying to make the numbers fit. It seemed to be moving too fast. “Sure, it could be a comet.” No it couldn’t. They don’t flash and there’s no fuzz around the edges, though it might still be out past the Snow Line. She couldn’t get a good fix on its distance from here. She rewound the recording, checking the time and increasing the magnification. Nothing new. Just a pixel point of light for a couple of frames.

  Tam squinted at the screen. “Whatever it is, it’s small.”

  “Not necessarily.” It might just be a small point on a larger object rotating in space. Her tablet beeped with an incoming message and she saw the notification from her mother. “Shoot. Are you coming over for dinner tonight? I think mom’s making tofu and kale stew.” She tried to say it without making a face, failed.

  “I think I’ll pass. I’ve been over there every day this week.” Tamra fidgeted with her pack, stuffing her tablet into it after one last glance for messages.

  Emma squeezed Tamra’s shoulder, “Come on, you’re practically family. You might as well eat something that isn’t a ration pack and we can run some more simulations.”

  “Gee, that’s sounds super fun and all, but I think I’ll pass.” Tam smiled at her friend. “Thanks for the offer though, but I’m not really hungry anyway.”

  Emma frowned. “OK. I’m gonna pack up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She stood up to leave.

  Tamra felt a twinge of guilt passing on dinner, but forced a lame smile. She stood up. “OK. Can at least walk back with you.” She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder for the walk home.

  Back in her apartment, Tamra tossed her jacket onto the floor and flopped onto the couch with her tablet. She cued up some music and dimmed the lights. She had the place to herself so she could listen to as much twentieth century pop music as she wanted to without being told to shut it off. Jerem hated it. Greg didn’t like it much better but she liked the manufactured boy bands in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. There was nothing like that being made anymore. It made her long for lost simpler times.

  She danced into the kitchen and grabbed a package of ramen, kale chips and a bowl, tossed them in dry and started crunching on a clump of noodles. She poured herself some water and went back to the couch singing along with the music.

  Tamra> hey. what are you doing?

  Greg> not much. just checking my feeds. you?

  Tamra> i donno… hi!

  She flipped over to Em’s channel. hey

  Emma> hey u. You’re missing some good stew.

  Tamra> not as good as these kale chips.

  She crunched on a chip and switched back to Greg’s channel.

  Tamra> we found a thing…

  Pause. what kinda thing?

  Tamra> I’m not supposed to tell anybody about it. It’s a secret, ok?

  Another pause. OK… you should come over.

  She waited a second, smirking at her screen. Maybe I’d rather stay here by myself. I have some work to do for ag class.

  Greg> that sounds boooring.

  Tamra> not really. It’s about fixing nitrogen!

  Pause. right.

  She crunched on some noodles, considering. I haven’t had any alone time in a whole week.

  Greg> oh. well, if you’d rather just be alone…

  Tamra smirked. What was he thinking? She hadn’t seen him all week with Emma’s mom as her unofficial chaperone serving up variations on tofu casserole. She checked her hair in the tablet’s reflection. I don’t know. what do you want to do? She cringed after she’d sent it. Maybe she really should stay home. Greg’s mom was off in space too.

  Tamra went to her bedroom and grabbed some spare clothes out of the pile on her floor. Checked herself in the mirror. Loose white tank top, black jeans. She debated a pony tail, but shook her hair out instead, letting it hang around her shoulders and face. She wrapped up her toothbrush and put it in the inside pocket in her bag. She picked up her tablet and dropped it back into her bag and grabbed her jacket off the floor. She slid the door closed behind her without bothering to lock it, walked down the hall and up the two flights of stairs to Greg’s apartment.

  She stood there, about to knock on the door when it slid open. Greg in a black t-shirt and jeans, bare feet. “Come on in.” He held the door for her and she squeezed past him, brushing against him as she went by. She dropped her bag by the couch.

  Greg scratched
his head. The apartment was a mess. Discarded ration packs, clothes. The lights were dim, at least, so she couldn’t see the full extent of the damage. “Like what you’ve done with the place.” Tamra kicked at an empty water bottle.

  “Yeah, the cleaning lady hasn’t been around much this week.” Greg went into the kitchen. “You want anything? Water? Uh. Water?”

  “Sure, water’d be fine.” She flopped down on the couch and then sat up, pulling a shoe out from behind her back. She dropped it on the floor with a look of distaste. “And maybe a garbage can?”

  “Water it is.” Greg dropped into the couch beside her. “Now, what was this thing you wanted to show me?”

  She smiled and grabbed her tablet out of her bag. “Look at this.”

  She opened the recording she and Emma had been looking at. “Em found this doing her project for astro.” The recording cycled a few times, accelerated, timelapsed.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “Here.” Tamra zoomed in on the region of space. In fast motion they could see the blinking object fixed against the background of moving stars.

  “Probably just a rock?” Greg squinted, pulling the tablet towards him. Tamra’s hand came with it and she shifted herself closer, leaning against him. “Maybe it’s spinning, picking up the sun.”

  “That’s what we thought at first, but the orbit doesn’t really make sense. Em says it’s moving too fast to be where it is.” She was really close.

  “I’ll have to plot some courses. It’ll probably take awhile. Maybe all night.” Greg looked into her eyes and put an arm around her. “You staying?”

  “Maybe just for a bit.”

  The tablet fell to the floor.

  005

  Lighthouse.

  Commander David Mancuso glanced at the board even though he already knew its contents. Four ships. Two inbound, soon to be three. The fourth ship was further out past the Snow Line, the invisible circle midway through the asteroid belt where comets began to melt. Everybody was right where they were supposed to be.

  He flipped through the morning’s reports, a list of numbers: 113 incoming messages, 38 incident reports, 17 points of interest, and one birthday coming up. He was going to be 57. That wasn’t in his list, but he added it in anyway. He’d have to contend with it later.

  Mancuso grimaced. It was a pain in the ass measuring human birthdays in Earth years now that they were on Mars. Keeping track of the days on Earth, the days on Mars. Everybody was on two clocks. It sounded a lot more impressive than the thirty years he’d have if he reckoned it by local timekeeping like some of the new generation had started doing. Then again, what he wouldn’t give to be thirty again. Might even do a couple of things different if he were.

  He broke out of his train of thought and focused on the screen in front of him. Start with the incident reports, as usual. He opened the first one, subject: STN PWR FLUCTUATION AT 0612, 2% VAR. Probably dust on the collectors or a bad connector on one of the lines. He typed up a message requesting an engineer take a look at it. That’d mean probably a couple of hours downtime on the collectors and a switch over to battery power. Next subject: STN DOCKING SEAL FAIL, BAY 5. He was pretty sure if he looked back through the logs, he’d find the Terror was docked in Bay 5 last. Her skipper had a bad habit of letting the auto locks disengage instead of doing a manual unlock and some of them were pretty sticky at their great age.

  Mancuso sighed. The station was only fifteen years older than he was when it was finally completed and they were both falling apart. They were both getting too old for this. He flagged it for engineering to take a look.

  He felt a twinge in his chest and rubbed the muscle absent-mindedly. He remembered the message waiting in his inbox from his doctor again. The subject line said it all. “Test results.” He’d been ignoring the request to talk about these for a week now. No point in ruining a good day.

  Skimming. Twelve requests for new parts. Three new personnel requests. Two leave requests. Forward… Forward…

  He started looking over Olympus and Watchtower’s points of interest. His favorite part of the morning. Looked like three possible M-type rocks coming into range for the next cycle. He tagged them. Five silicates, not interesting, they rarely were. Remnants of rocky asteroids or blasted-off chunks of planet battered into sand. Funny. There was an unknown in the list but no detail. He wondered if there was a bug in Watchtower’s programming.

  Mancuso looked at the board again. Making Time had begun her descent chasing Calypso. Pandora had a head-start and would be ready to start deceleration burns in a couple of days. Good ships those. Good crews. They made his life a hell of a lot easier, that was certain. All he really had to do was keep the station running and occasionally pick a new rock for them to go dig into. Not a bad life, all told.

  Fifty years the Lighthouse had been keeping track of the Martian space fleet. It bookended all their travels to and from space – a temporary stop-over on their way to the asteroid belt. Mancuso and his crew served to keep those ships running. He felt like it was the most important job in the colony. And the station was getting old. All the pieces they’d added onto it over the years were breaking down and wearing out. Their job was to keep it running in its orbit around Mars.

  Keep the lights on.

  “Sir? Incoming message from Pandora.” Jill Sanchez informed him from the communications station, interrupting his reverie.

  He turned to her. “Put it up.”

  The speakers crackled with the incoming transmission. “Control, this is MSS13 Pandora checking in. We have cut power to engines and are drifting into our deceleration burn scheduled in 48 hours.” Captain Mike Bruno’s voice on the speaker. “We’re looking for some quality entertainment during this quiet window which we will pay for with a big heavy load of metal. Over.”

  Jill looked at him, expecting a reply. She had a grin on her face. Mancuso checked the time. Almost ten in the morning. “Acknowledge them. Then see if you can raise Bruno’s kids for them. I bet he’d appreciate a recording from his littlest.” They’d be in class now, but every once in awhile they let the class send up a hello from the colony. He wasn’t sure who enjoyed that more, the kids or the crews. He sure got a kick out of it though.

  Jill mimed some applause and turned back to her station, sending out the reply.

  He got up from his chair with a creak and a groan. “You have the deck, Mister Nolan. I have to get ready for my surprise party.” Heavy emphasis on the surprise.

  Nolan grinned at him with his excellent teeth and stood up. “Yes sir. Very much looking forward to it.”

  Mancuso sighed and headed anti-spinward for the exit. “And I don’t want any fuss, you understand?”

  “Oh no, sir. Wouldn’t dream of it.” More teeth as Nolan stood behind the commander’s chair watching him go.

  006

  Making Time.

  After two days into the burn Jerem felt like he could move without injuring himself. Adjusting to gravity, even the gentle artificial gravity of their accelerating ship took care. It was exacerbated by his sore muscles from the weeks on the mining mission. He squeezed into the galley and grabbed a ration pack out of the locker and cracked the seal. He leaned against the ladder while it heated up.

  His dad called down from the cockpit with his raspy voice, “you out of your bunk?”

  “Yeah, Dad.” He almost choked on his bean stew. “Just grabbed a ration. You want anything?”

  “Come on up when you get a second.”

  “Alright.” He’d have to wait until he finished eating this. Can’t climb a ladder with an open ration. He squeezed out a hot mouthful and chewed it carefully, blowing out through his mouth around the chemically heated food threatening to melt a hole through his tongue. He swallowed and chased it with a big gulp of water. He felt a blister forming on the roof of his mouth with his tongue and winced. He blew into the packet, steam rising out of the opening and carefully squeezed another, smaller mouthful.

  J
erem finished eventually, taking his time while the stew cooled down and discarded the empty ration pack in the recycling bin. He hauled himself up past the bunks, all empty save for stowed supplies and equipment in the spares. They were only two on Making Time, but the standard ship design had room for a cramped six. Most of the ships in their fleet ran with three or four crew onboard. Hal had talked about taking on another crew member before but hadn’t for this run. Jerem figured he would soon, maybe their next outing.

  He climbed through the open hatch into the glowing cockpit, orange and blue lights illuminating the round control room. Panels and hatches lined the walls around them providing access to the control systems and electronics. “What’s up?” His mouth and tongue still tingling from the hot stew made his words sound thick to his ears.

  “Take a look at this.” Hal tapped the display in front of him on his console, his face illuminated in a blue cast from the screen below. The control sticks locked into position on either side of the station. An ancient mechanical gimbal stood still in the corner indicating steady flight.

  Jerem leaned around his father’s seat to take a look, taking a moment to make sense of the table of values on the display. He whistled when he figured it out.

  “Holy crap! I knew that felt light on extract, but had no idea.” The display had a highlighted line-item in the list of entries. It read 3% Titanium. Nearly half a tonne of it. The rest was mostly iron and nickel. Smaller amounts of gold, silver and copper were all under a single percentage of the total.

  “That’s gonna build us a lot of parts. It’s a great haul. We’ve flagged the rock for the next time it comes back around. It’s worth going back to.” Hal tapped his screen and brought up an image of the bigger parent body, the unusually-named, bone-shaped Kleopatra. “We should figure out a way to get down on that thing.”

  “Nah, I’m pretty sure I got all of the good stuff.” Jerem grinned. They were getting some good bounty for this. Probably even be able to take a month or two of leave and first dibs on replacement parts for the ship. Tam’d have to get used to them being around again. And Em. He looked forward to annoying her by being around more. “Did you send it in yet?”