The Starchild Compact E-Book

Robert G. Williscroft

• Herausgeber: Fresh Ink Group
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Starchild Saga
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 654

Beschreibung

The Starchild Compact is an epic tale of beginnings, of roots, of what might have been, and what might be. The Starchild Compact is an adventure of heroic proportions, commencing on a planet 500 light years distant, arriving here just a few years from now, and ending up in the far distant expanses of the Universe.

Jon Stock takes his exploration team to Saturn’s moon, Iapetus, that Earth scientists have determined may be an artifact. Following launch, they discover Saeed Ismail, a Jihadist stowaway, who hopes to sabotage the mission.

They arrive at Iapetus, determine it is a derelict starship, and eventually meet with the Founders, descendants of the starship builders. Their revelations impact the entire Solar System with momentous implications going backward and forward in time, paving the way for a joint push to the distant reaches of the Galaxy.

Leseprobe

THE STARCHILD COMPACT

FRONT MATERIAL MOVED TO BACK OFTHE STARCHILD COMPACT

To facilitate your reading this ebook, the following elements have been placed at the back of the book. Click on the links to see them. Click the title on the arrival page to bring you back here.

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Foreword to the 1st edition

Foreword to the 2nd edition

Foreword to the 3rd edition

Foreword to the 4th edition

Cast of Characters

Praise for The Starchild Compact

To skip the Table of Contents, click here to go right to the beginning of the story.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page

Table of Contents

Front Material Moved to the Back

The Starchild Compact

Part One

Chapter One

Figure 1—Cassini II on an extended tether

Cassini II in the Asteroid Belt

L-4—MIRS Complex four weeks earlier

L-4—Ring Kiev

Figure 2—Cassini II

Figure 3—Skin detail

Figure 4—Core detail

Figure 5—Living spaces around the core

Figure 6—Pullman showing core

Detailed description of Cassini II construction and layout

Figure 7—Exploded view of Cassini II

The Pullman

The Box

The Caboose

Chapter Two

L-4—Aboard Cassini II

Cassini II—underway

Chapter Three

Cassini II—under power

Chapter Four

Cassini II—tethered underway

Chapter Five

Cassini II—tethered underway

Cassini II—transiting Mars orbit

Chapter Six

Cassini II—beyond Mars

Cassini II—Asteroid Belt

Chapter Seven

Cassini II—departing the Asteroid Belt

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Cassini II—departing the Asteroid Belt

Chapter Eight

Cassini II—approaching Cisjovian Space

Chapter Nine

Cassini II—Cisjovian Space

Chapter Ten

Cassini II—Cisjovian Space

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Cassini II—Cisjovian Space

Chapter Eleven

Cassini II—Jupiter boost

Chapter Twelve

Cassini II—beyond Jupitertethered

Chapter Thirteen

Cassini II—between Jupiter and Saturn

Chapter Fourteen

Cassini II—Iapetus orbit

Earth—Mission Control

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Earth—Mission Control

Cassini II—Iapetus orbit

Earth—Zahedan International Airport

Chapter Fifteen

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Cassini II—Iapetus orbit

Lander One—Iapetus orbit

Rover One—Surface of Iapetus

Earth—Mission Control

Iapetus—Site One

Chapter Sixteen

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Iapetus—Site One

Earth—Mission Control

Iapetus—Site One

Cassini II—Iapetus orbit

Iapetus—Site One

Cassini II—Iapetus orbit

Part Two

Figure 8—Detail of Iapetus equatorial wall

Figure 9—Iapetus in Mercator projection

Chapter Seventeen

Figure 10—Iapetus landing sites

Cassini II—Iapetus orbit

Lander Two—Iapetus orbit

Rover Two—surface of Iapetus

Iapetus—Site One

Chapter Eighteen

Earth—Generally

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Iapetus—Site Two

Iapetus—Site One

Chapter Nineteen

Iapetus—Base Camp

Chapter Twenty

Iapetus—The Shaft

Chapter Twenty-one

Iapetus—The Lock

Iapetus—Interior

Earth—Mission Control

Iapetus—The Shaft & Interior

Chapter Twenty-two

Iapetus—Interior

Earth—Generally

Earth—Mission Control

Chapter Twenty-three

Iapetus—Interior

Earth—Mission Control

Figure 11—Wormhole of David

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Chapter Twenty-four

Iapetus—Interior

Chapter Twenty-five

Iapetus—Interior

Iapetus—Command Center

Earth—Mission Control

Chapter Twenty-six

Iapetus—Command Center

Iapetus—Command Center, the Founder’s story

Iapetus—Command Center

First Interlude

Iapetus—Command Center 150.000 years ago

Merkavah—Departure

Merkavah—Ectaris

Merkavah—Dameter

Chapter Twenty-seven

Iapetus—Command Center

Earth—Mission Control

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Earth—Generally

Iapetus—Headquarters

Second Interlude

Merkavah—Earth

Merkavah—Iapetus

Merkavah—Earth

Iapetus—Bio-labs

Merkavah—Earth 70,000 years later

Merkavah—Earth 80,000 years later

Merkavah—Earth 120,000 years later

Merkavah—Earth 120,000+ years later

Chapter Twenty-eight

Iapetus—Headquarters

Earth—Mission Control

Iapetus—Headquarters

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Earth—Mission Control

Iapetus—Headquarters

Chapter Twenty-nine

Iapetus—Headquarters

Earth—Mission Control

Earth—Generally

Earth—Mission Control

Chapter Thirty

Iapetus—Headquarters

Merkavah—Iapetus

Merkavah—Earth

Earth—Mission Control

Merkavah—Earth

Earth—Mission Control

Merkavah—Earth

Chapter Thirty-one

Merkavah—Earth

Earth—Mission Control

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Earth—Mission Control

Merkavah—Earth

Chapter Thirty-two

Earth—Philadelphia

Earth—Generally

Earth—Mission Control

Earth—Persian Caliphate

Merkavah—Earth

Iapetus—Headquarters

Chapter Thirty-three

Iapetus—The Founders

Iapetus—Headquarters

Iapetus—Manufacturing

Iapetus—Headquarters

Starchild—Shakedown

Iapetus—Headquarters

Earth—Washington DC

Chapter Thirty-four

L-4—Ring Kiev

Starchild—Shakedown Cruise

Solar System - Generally

L-4—Ring Kiev

Iapetus—Headquarters

L-4—Ring Kiev

Epilog

Earth—Saudi Arabian Desert

Post a Review

Excerpt from The Iapetus Federation

Praise for The Iapetus Federation

About Robert G. Williscroft

Other books by Robert G. Williscroft

Connect with Robert G. Williscroft

Material moved from front of book

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Foreword to the First Edition

Foreword to the Second Edition

Foreword to the Third Edition

Cast of Characters

Praise for The Starchild Compact

The Starchild Compact Glossary

THE STARCHILD COMPACT

PART ONE

On the wings of eagles…

Chapter one

Figure 1—Cassini II on extended tether

CASSINI II IN THE ASTEROID BELT

S

aeed Esmail prostrated himself toward Earth, nearly 400 million kilometers back in the direction of the Sun. He felt his stomach heave, and vomited blood on his prayer mat, and wondered aloud why Allah had abandoned him. At that moment, he was hit with massive weight, several gees at least, and a twisting, wrenching, totally disorienting surge that made no mental or physical sense. In his weakened state, all Saeed could do was let his body be tossed from wall to wall inside his tent, and hope that he would not tear the airtight fabric. He heard somebody screaming, and then his stomach heaved again, and bloody vomit filled the space around him, flying this way and that, finally collecting on the tent walls. The lights went out, and someone still was screaming, but as the wild gyrations began to settle into a repeating pattern, Saeed realized that he was the one screaming…and he couldn’t stop. He reached for his head, pulling out fistfuls of hair…and he screamed again. He retched, but his stomach was empty, and only a little bit of blood mixed with spittle left his mouth, flying at an odd angle to the tent wall…and he screamed, but quieter now, and screamed some more, but quieter still, until his screams morphed into a frightened whimper as he curled into a tight ball on his prayer mat.

L-4—MIRS COMPLEX, FOUR WEEKS EARLIER

A

subdued bong captured Saeed’s attention. A comforting female voice announced, “In five minutes, we will pitch over and commence our arrival burn at El-four. Please make sure you are securely strapped into your seat, and that you have stowed any loose items you might have been using during the transit. Remain securely fastened in your seat until the arrival announcement tells you it is safe to unbuckle and move about.”

Saeed checked his harness and curiously looked out the port. He saw nothing but stars, more stars than he had ever seen, and off to the rear, the beautiful blue marble that the earth had become—praise be to Allah. Then the star field began to rotate, accompanied by a slightly higher pitch from the gyros that penetrated Saeed’s conscious perception. The blue marble moved with the star-studded sky until it was positioned above the capsule’s port bow. While this happened, Saeed felt no movement. His only sense was that the sky had rotated, as if Allah had reached out and rotated the heavenly backdrop with His mighty hand. Weight returned with a popping hiss as the kick thruster ignited for a few seconds’ burn. As his weight vanished again, the gyros whined, and the sky began to move from right to left. In short order, Saeed could see the Moon through the ports on the other side of the capsule. It appeared no larger than it did from the Earth, but the left side was one that Saeed had only seen before in holographs. He could not see the Mirs Complex, although he knew it had to lie off the starboard quarter. Weight returned again for about a minute as the restartable kick thruster slowed their velocity to match the orbital velocity of the Russian Federation-built Mirs Complex as it circled the Earth in the Moon’s orbit, 385,000 kilometers ahead of the Moon.

Several clanks and surges later, Saeed felt his normal weight gradually return as the capsule nestled into its berth in the capsule arrival bay of the Ring Kiev and picked up its rotational speed.

Bong. “Welcome to Ring Kiev,” a bright female voice announced. “It is now safe for you to unstrap and move about. You may disembark to the left side of the capsule. Lavatory facilities are located immediately to the left of the passageway. Your personal belongings will be available in fifteen minutes at the baggage handling dock down the passageway to the right. We know you have choices when traveling off-planet. We thank you for using Slingshot and hope you had a pleasant trip, and that you will think of us the next time you leave Planet Earth.”

Saeed stepped out of the capsule and hurried to the men’s room. Although the passengers had been warned about not drinking before the flight, and all the passengers had been issued absorbent diapers an hour before leaving Baker just in case, Saeed, as a faithful Muslim, abhorred fouling himself, and had held off, by the grace of Allah, until arrival.

While awaiting the baggage, Saeed checked the construction schedule for Cassini II, and then perused the poster-size diagram of the spaceship.  Cassini II was a sixty-six-meter-long twelve-meter-wide cylinder, divided into three modules—a twenty-meter-long crew module, called the Pullman, a twenty-three-meter-long equipment module, called the Box, and the twenty-three-meter-long power module and engine cluster, called the Caboose. The large Iapetus-bound spaceship had been constructed entirely at Mirs, about a hundred kilometers away on the opposite side of the main L-4 complex. All three modules had been built in place.

Z

Over the next several days, Saeed mingled with the Cassini II provisioning crew that verified the final loadout of the Box and the provisions stored in the Pullman. Another, more technical crew completed the final installation and testing of the gas core reactor and the advanced VASIMR engines that would drive Cassini II to Saturn in record time.

On the final day, before the flight crew arrival, the transport tug that ferried the provisioning crew to and from the massive spaceship experienced a catastrophic seal failure where the tug attached to the Box. The entire crew was suited up except, apparently, one Saeed Esmail, the newest provisioning crew member. Searchers found bloody pieces of his suit and a few helmet shards on a trajectory that would ultimately have taken them to the Moon. They never could quite figure out what had actually happened to Saeed, but it was obvious that he had somehow managed to shatter his nearly unbreakable helmet, and rip himself and his tough suit to shreds as he depressurized. The conclusion was that an untracked small meteor, two or three millimeters in size, had gotten him, and somehow maybe even caused the catastrophic depressurization of the tug. Saeed Esmail was not the first casualty on the project, although the consensus was that he might have been the last.

Z

After ejecting the bloody suit pieces and helmet shards from a trash lock in the outer bulkhead of the Box, Saeed worked his way into the hiding place that he had created during the loadout wedged against the outer wall at right angles to both lower-level accesses. It was an airtight polymer tent of just over five cubic meters, with its own oxygen supply and scrubber. It would keep him alive during the transit to Iapetus. He had the freeze-dried food, water from the emergency supply, and he could dump waste out the waste lock. His Link, with its collection of holofilms, books, and the Qur’an, would keep his mind occupied for the projected four-month trip. He examined the four burst transmitters that had been included in his life pack. About the size of a softball, each was designed to be ejected through the waste lock, orient itself with the ship to its rear, extend a gossamer parabolic antenna, and do a circular search for Earth, using a very limited supply of compressed gas. Then, using a high-density charge, the device would transmit a series of encrypted bursts until the charge was consumed. Saeed was to deploy the first at the tether extension, the second following the Jupiter boost, the third when they arrived near Saturn. The fourth was for whatever circumstance warranted a special transmission.

In his hideaway, Saeed prostrated himself facing Earth, he hoped, and recited his prayers, adding a personal thanks to Allah for keeping him safe thus far, and on line to accomplish His holy mission.

L-4 –RING KIEV

J

on Stock stepped out of the launch loop capsule at Ring Kiev and made a beeline for the men’s room. “Those capsules need a latrine,” he muttered to himself as he splashed water on his face. Steely blue eyes stared out at him from the mirror. His hair was gray and cropped short above a craggy, clean-shaven face that testified to his fifty years. A lean, muscled 183-centimeter frame belied those same years. He wore the uniform of a U.S. Navy Captain, his left chest bedecked with ribbons. One stood out top center, jet black, framed in silver, with a golden image of Mars attached to the center—the Mars Expeditionary Medal. Jon was the second in command on that first expedition to the Red Planet. When Commander Evans was killed in a freak accident on the surface, he assumed command, saved the mission, and brought the crew back. Now he commanded the international crew of Cassini II on an expedition to Iapetus. They would travel five times further than any human had ever gone before. And what awaited them at their destination might very well change human history forever.

Iapetus… Jon reviewed what he knew about Saturn’s iconic moon. In 2004, the Cassini-Huygens spacecraft flew by Iapetus. Iapetus proved to be unlike any other moon. The surface seemed to display an intersecting grid of geodesic sections, something not normally found in nature. A narrow mountainous wall extended around Iapetus at the equator, so that the moon looked something like a walnut. Iapetus’ density was far too low for a moon that appeared solid, but if Iapetus were substantially hollow, then the numbers worked out just about right. Several of the “geodesic sections” appeared to have collapsed inward, revealing what could be interpreted as complex structures underneath the surface layer. A tall, very narrow structure extended from the surface at one point, like a towering spike a kilometer high. Like the “geodesic structure,” this spike had no “natural” explanation.

In September 2007, the Cassini-Huygens spacecraft made another relatively close transit of Iapetus following the equatorial wall, revealing that the wall consisted of a series of mountains up to twenty kilometers high, following each other in series, none side-by-side. It also supplied further details on a series of equally spaced craters parallel to the equatorial wall and halfway between the wall and the North Pole.

Iapetus had remained a mystery. It was very difficult to imagine that all the things discovered by Cassini-Huygens were natural. The implications of the discoveries being artificial were staggering. As more and more information was gathered by space telescopes in orbit around Earth, on the Moon, and at the Mirs Complex at L-4, the possibility that Iapetus could have an artificial origin became quite real. The initial concept for a human investigation of Iapetus had been put forward by Launch Loop International (LLI), the consortium that had built Slingshot as an entirely civilian operation, followed by several other launch loops around the world. While there was lots of pushing and shoving by the governments of the territories where the launch loops were located, in the final analysis, most people considered a launch loop as something akin to an airline company, and in the end, most of the loops were left in civilian hands, although governments exercised whatever control they wished.

Iapetus, however, was seen by the world’s major players as a potential prize like none other. If Iapetus turned out to be an artifact, eloquent spokespersons from various governments argued, then it belonged to all the people, not just to the greedy corporations that found it. This argument fell on sympathetic ears of a world population that had grown used to being told what to do by benevolent governments. When LLI partnered with their former rival, Galaxy Ventures, to form Iapetus Quest, they faced an unusually consolidated array of governments united in their opposition to a privately funded and operated Iapetus operation. The United States, in its still dominant position on the world stage, muscled itself into the leadership slot in the newly recast government-owned and operated Iapetus Quest. The international debate had raged on how to structure the crew of Cassini II. Many had argued for a civilian crew, structured however they wanted. Eventually, by negotiated treaty, arm twisting, back-room dealing, and even outright bribery and coercion, an international crew was assembled that represented the interests of the participating nations.

Because of the politics, the crew members not only had not trained together, but with a couple of exceptions, they had not even met. Jon had reviewed the material supplied by each crew member’s respective government to the point where he felt he practically knew each individual. As he strolled toward the Great Room, Jon reviewed what he did know about several crew members.

He had met Canadian Noel Goddard at several conferences dealing with VASIMR engine technology. Goddard was his space structural engineer and one of the backup VASIMR engineers. He traced his roots back to the famed early 20th-century rocket scientist, taking much pride from the connection. His immediate family was well-to-do, and he was tall, thin, and wiry. Jon respected him, but they had little in common, as exemplified by Jon’s love of fast sports cars and Goddard’s preference for luxury sedans—the larger, the better.

Jon had actually served on two occasions with Israeli Ari Rawlston, and considered him a friend. Ari was his Chief VASIMR Engineer and backup computer engineer. He stood 173 centimeters, with short curly dark hair and dark eyes—looking every bit the Semite he was. Jon was privately aware of Ari’s Mossad connections, but the official papers did not mention it, and Jon kept this information to himself.

As Jon made his way to the Great Room where he expected to meet with his crew, Colonel Dmitri Gagarin, his Russian First Officer, caught up with him, resplendent in full uniform of the Russian Air Corps.

“It looks like both our governments made us dress up,” the Russian said as he snapped a salute.

Jon instinctively returned the salute, and then smiled and held out his hand.

“Please, Colonel, let’s drop the military protocol.” They shook hands.

“That works for me, Captain.” The Russian’s English was nearly perfectly enunciated, with only the slightest trace of a guttural accent that betrayed his Russian origin. “Please call me Dmitri.” He removed his peaked hat to reveal a shaved pate. He was a bit shorter than Jon at 178 centimeters, but was more stocky, and gave the impression of a tough guy who could handle himself in any situation, despite his forty years.

Although Jon needed to establish his authority from the outset, he was keenly aware that they were all strangers thrown together to satisfy the whims of a political world that had no concept of what it took to cross a 1.5-billion-kilometer void, a distance so vast that a radio signal took nearly one and a half hours to get there from Earth. Such a trek would be difficult enough with a crew that knew each other, that had trained together, that was used to military structure and discipline. Only he and the Russian came from a military background, which Jon suspected might be more hindrance than advantage, especially with his First Officer. Jon was well aware that the only reason he was captain, and not Dmitri, was the American muscle within the controlling government consortium.

Jon and Dmitri stood before the expansive window looking out into the star-studded backdrop of the Mirs Complex. The view moved slowly from right to left as the great multiple-wheel station revolved to create one gravity at the rim where they stood.

“Magnificent view, isn’t it?” Dmitri said with a sense of homegrown pride. The Mirs Complex was a private operation built and run by a consortium of firms led by a Russian-based company, the Mirs Corporation, that started out building deep submersibles for the old Soviet Academy of Sciences back in the late twentieth century.

“Gentlemen,” a pleasant female voice with a soft Australian lilt penetrated their thoughts. The two men turned to see a very tall, slender woman with blue-black skin and startlingly green eyes. She carried her Zulu heritage with obvious pride. “I’m Second Officer Ginger Steele,” she said, extending her hand first to Jon and then to Dmitri. Her skin was smooth, and her grip was firm. Ginger’s close-cropped kinky black hair emphasized her long neck. By any measure, she was a beauty and well aware of her impact on those around her. She wore a simple, elegant pale blue pantsuit and white silk blouse, with jacket draped over her shoulders, and white pumps with just a hint of a heel.

This one could be trouble, Jon thought, as he took in her unfettered small breasts and the almost laconic way she carried her 185-centimeter willowy frame. Ginger was his thirty-one-year-old Communications Officer and backup Astrogator under Dmitri.

“I’m delighted to meet you, Dr. Steele,” Jon said, locking eyes with her.

Without flinching, she looked straight back. “Likewise, but please call me Ginger.”

As if by mutual agreement, they both turned their attention to the Russian.

“Ya rad stretits’ya stoboi, tozhe (I’m glad to meet you, too.),” Ginger said to the Russian with a slightly accented turn of phrase.

“Spasibo (Thank you.),” Dmitri answered back. “And the lady speaks Russian on top of everything else,” Dmitri added with a wide grin. “That’s good, because I don’t speak a word of IsiZulu.”

“Neither do I,” Ginger said, “but both my grandparents did.”

“Since English is the official language of the expedition,” Jon said, “that won’t be a problem anyway.”

“But it should be French,” a slightly husky female voice tuned in from behind them.

They all turned to take in a 165-centimeter, well-toned woman with shoulder-length blond hair and green eyes. She wore a one-piece green jumpsuit with a neckline designed to display her ample assets to their best advantage. On her feet, she wore the latest fashion in women’s off-earth footwear, slightly clunky-appearing boots that actually were made of a soft artificial chamois. Her pose somehow broadcast a covert sensuality that Jon could not quite pin down. Had he not been aware from her record of her thirty-five years, he would have placed her in her late twenties.

“Dr. deBois, I presume,” Jon said, squeezing the hand that she proffered in a slightly palm-down position, as if expecting it to be kissed.

“Michele deBois,” she said with a coy smile, “Mission Specialist, biology and botany.” She turned to Dmitri and brought her lips to both Dmitri’s cheeks in the traditional French fashion, and then lifted herself on tiptoe to do the same with Ginger, pausing momentarily to brush her lips. Jon was certain that they had exchanged a few quiet words.

“Mon Capitaine,” Michele said, brushing her lips against his cheeks. “I save the best for last, non?” she said, with the slightest of French lilts.

“I would have to take issue with that,” Jon said, glancing at the tall Australian.

“Oui…You’re right,” Michele said, moving next to Ginger and taking her hand. “The Capitaine must be right, non?” Her eyes twinkled, and a husky chuckle escaped her lips.

And I thought Ginger would be trouble, Jon said to himself and turned to greet the next arrival. “Folks, please say hello to Noel Goddard.”

Handshakes all around with another tiptoe French welcome from Michele. Jon thought it interesting that Noel and Ginger stood eye-to-eye when they shook hands. Noel wore plain shirt and trousers, although a trained eye would have distinguished that they were absolute top-of-the-line. His shoes, likewise, were the best money could buy.

The next arrival was Chen Lee-Fong, the Chinese systems engineer and second backup VASIMR engineer. He seemed shy, and like the rest of the crew, did not show his forty years. Chen shyly shook each proffered hand, and flushed crimson to his short-cropped dark hairline when Michele greeted him in the traditional French fashion.

“I am happy to meet you all,” he said in flawless, unaccented English, but with an overtone that said he was not a native speaker. His smile remained tentative as he brushed his hands against his dark trousers in what appeared an unconscious effort to remove the foreign touch. He wore traditional business attire, and seemed unaware that with its normalcy, he appeared somewhat out of place in this crowd.

At that moment, they were joined by a woman dressed in a peculiarly mannish pin-striped suit, but that on her, nevertheless, appeared distinctly feminine. She was a couple of centimeters taller than Michele, and wore her medium blond hair in a pixie cut that made her look younger than her thirty-three years. Although she was not the ravishing beauty of a Ginger, nor the sensual figure of a Michele, Jon decided that she was every bit as pretty—just different, and then he chided himself at making these comparisons in the first place. I am, after all, the captain, he sub-vocalized as the newcomer introduced herself.

“I am Elke Gratz,” she announced, adding a bit of German burr to her pronouncing her surname. While introducing herself, she stood at what Jon instantly recognized as attention, and bowed slightly from the waist as she shook each hand in turn—a single, definite pump. Jon noticed that Elke responded in kind to Michele’s French greeting, and this time it was Elke who initiated lips brushing lips.

“Elke is our historian and computer engineer,” Jon announced to no one in particular. “Welcome to the Cassini II crew, Elke.”

The crew members chatted among themselves, getting to know one another, at least on some superficial level. Several minutes later, a petite, beautiful woman dressed in an Indian Sari approached them. Her long black hair hung straight down her back, and she sported a scarlet bindi on her forehead. Jon stepped up to her and took her hand, drawing her to the group.

“Please meet Dr. Carmen Bhuta, our ship’s physician,” Jon said with an expansive smile.

“I am so pleased to meet you all,” Dr. Bhuta said, her words flowing smoothly from her beautiful face, carrying a hint of the language as spoken by the upper echelon of Indian society. “What an adventure this will be!”

Jon added, “Dr. Bhuta is also our language specialist.” Responding to a couple of lifted eyebrows, he said, “I know that all of you are multi-lingual, and so could also qualify as a language specialist, but this talented woman has specialized in the creation of language, in how to bring an unknown written language to life. We all hope, I am sure, that her special skills will find some use before the end of this expedition.”

“Now,” Jon announced into the light conversation his comment had launched, “we only await our Chief VASIMR Engineer.”

As if on cue, Ari Rawlston approached the group with a purposeful stride. “Sorry I’m late, folks,” he said in absolutely native, born-in-the-USA English. “Some last-minute matters regarding the VASIMR drive test tomorrow.” Ari made the handshake rounds, accepted Michele’s kisses, and paused to punch Jon in the arm. “How’s it hanging, Old Buddy?” Then he launched into a technical description of the next day’s engine test.

Figure 2—Cassini II spacecraft

A sixty-six-meter-long cylinder, divided into three modules—the Pullman, a twenty-meter-long crew module, The Box, a twenty-three-meter-long equipment module, and the Caboose, a twenty-three-meter-long power module and engine cluster. The Pullman, Box, and Caboose are constructed of an aramid-based, radiation-tolerant polymer that is stronger than steel but far lighter. The cylinder walls consist of two layers a half-meter apart, filled with a rigid foam polymer. This foam absorbs a significant part of incoming radiation, while slowing down the rest, without breaking down in the process. An additional layer between the foam and the outer walls consists of a viscous, transparent polymer that cures to a hardness approaching that of the aramid-based polymer when exposed to hard vacuum. Should the cylinder skin be pierced by anything, the polymer would flow to the opening, sealing it, and then cure to a hard patch.

Figure 3—Skin detail

The Pullman: Twelve meters wide. Six three-meter-thick levels, one atop the other like a stack of poker chips or a roll of coins. Nestled inside the twenty-meter cylinder at its center is an inner core cylinder six meters long by four meters wide. The six levels are separated by material similar to the cylinder walls, a quarter-meter-thick, reinforced by vertical stabilizers radiating out from a center strength-member that extends the entire twenty-meter length of the Pullman. Viewports penetrate the outer walls in each living space, the captain’s quarters, the common area, and twice in the recreation level. They are meter-wide circular ports made from a radiation-absorbing crystalline sapphire matrix with two polarizing layers whose alignment is governed by the intensity of incoming visible radiation—the brighter the light, the more polarized the ports. The space between the sapphire layers is filled with the same transparent viscous polymer that forms the filler in the outer walls.

Figure 4—Core Detail

Figure 5—Living spaces around the core

The Core: (in the center of the Pullman) Surrounded by a meter-thick water-gel jacket, so that it doubles as the radiation safety zone. The water can be extracted as an emergency water supply, or even a source of oxygen. The upper one-and-a-half-meter space is devoted to oxygen storage at ultra-high pressure. Next is the two-meter-high Command Center—often referred to as the Core. The bottom two-and-a-half meters contain the module stabilizing gyro. The Command Center is accessible along the axis from Levels 2 & 5 by offset ladders that maintain the integrity of the radiation shields.

Figure 6—Pullman showing core

The Box: Twelve meters wide, twenty-three meters long. Two three-meter levels above two six-meter levels with a one-and-a-half-meter endcap at each end. A meter-wide reinforced cylinder containing a ladder runs through the length of the three-meter levels into the upper six-meter level. The three levels can be accessed from this core cylinder.

The Caboose: Four sections—(1) a three-meter-high, twelve-meter-wide local control module; (2) a ten-meter-long, twelve-meter-wide fuel module; (3) a four-meter-long, three-meter-wide cylindrical gas core nuclear reactor; (4) a six-meter-long, four-meter-wide engine cluster.

Detailed description of Cassini II construction and layout

Figure 7—Exploded view of Cassini II

The Pullman

Pullman Level 1: Water-recycling machinery and pumps; storage for consumables and spare parts; airlock to space.

Pullman Level 2: Captain’s personal quarters occupy one-half; the other half houses electronics and a common area for the crew that includes the Canteen.

Pullman Level 3: Two pairs of individual living quarters (outboard of the Command Center) that share a common lavatory between each pair; accessible by two ladders from Level 2 and two from Level 4, offset ninety degrees from the lavatories.

Core/Command Center: Vessel command center and radiation safety zone.

Pullman Level 4: Two pairs of individual living quarters (outboard of the Command Center) that share a common lavatory between each pair; accessible by two ladders from Level 3 and two from Level 5, offset ninety degrees from the lavatories.

Pullman Level 5: Recreation/exercise area to maintain fitness during freefall; a small sickbay.

Pullman Level 6: Electronics, bio-lab space, engineering shop, a botanical area designed to supply a bit of fresh vegetable variation to the crew’s diet, and atmosphere equipment—additional stored oxygen at ultra-high pressure, carbon dioxide and noxious gas scrubbing machinery with oxygen recovery, circulation blowers, and electrolysis equipment for emergency generation of oxygen from any source of water. Airlock center of deck connecting to the Box; airlock to space.

The Box

Forward Endcap: Tether reel and associated equipment; top airlock connects to Pullman; bottom airlock connects to Storage levels.

Forward & After Storage: Virtually everything the expedition would need for an extended stay on or near Iapetus, including freeze-dried foods and an emergency supply of water for use in the event of a catastrophic failure of the recycling system in the Pullman. The module stabilizing gyro (between After Storage & Forward Lander Bay).

Forward Lander Bay: Lander/Rover One; fuel; spare tether; spare VASIMR engine. Has a large door, called the Barn Door, that opens to space.

After Lander Bay: Lander/Rover Two; fuel; spare tether; spare VASIMR engine. Has a large door, called the Barn Door, that opens to space.

After Endcap: Tether reel and associated equipment; top airlock connects to After Landing Bay; bottom airlock connects to Caboose.

The Caboose

Local Control Module: Local Reactor Console; Local VASIMR Console; storage for critical reactor and VASIMR spares.

Fuel Module: Insulated storage tanks for liquid hydrogen; the module stabilizing gyro.

VASIMR Engine Cluster: Four Variable Specific Impulse Magnetoplasma Rocket engines (VASIMR for short).

CHAPTER TWO

L-4—ABOARD CASSINI II

T

he next day found all nine crew members in the Pullman, settling into their respective quarters. Jon had decided to designate the third deck as female country. Ginger and Michele were directly below him, sharing a lavatory, and Dr. Bhuta and Elke shared a lavatory below the common area. Below them, Dmitri and Ari, who were directly beneath Ginger and Michele, split the deck with Chen and Noel. Gender distinctions rarely were an issue in the modern world, and Jon had no thought of so-called male-female issues. He was only concerned with the physical comfort of his female crew members, since sharing lavatory facilities was the only remaining recognized area of gender differentiation. It was a no-brainer, therefore, to pair up the women. The only remaining question was whether to keep all four on the same deck, or to split them up. Given the interactions he had observed surrounding Michele’s meeting the other women, the question probably would turn out to be moot anyway.

The big deal for the day was, as Ari had outlined the day before, the VASIMR test. The reactor had been activated during the early morning hours, so that by the time the Skipper and his three VASIMR engineers—Ari, Noel, and Chen—were ready to conduct the test, the reactor was up to full power.

The reactor was a new variable-output gas-core design wherein gaseous uranium-hexafluoride fissile material was injected into a fused silica vessel where it produced extremely high-energy ultraviolet light. The variable fissile density of the gas controlled the reactor’s output. The VASIMR hydrogen propellant flowed around the transparent vessel, absorbing the high-energy ultraviolet, and then was directed into the four VASIMR engines. Furthermore, the outer wall of the hydrogen chamber was lined with photovoltaics that converted the high-energy ultraviolet directly into electricity. Part of this power was diverted for ship functions, and the rest drove the VASIMR engines. These engines generated high-frequency radio waves to ionize the super-hot hydrogen propellant into extremely hot plasma. Magnetic fields accelerated the plasma to generate thrust. Because every part of the VASIMR engines was magnetically shielded, they did not come into direct contact with the ionized plasma. This gave the engines very long life and enabled them to be virtually maintenance-free.

The test really was very simple. Once the reactor had reached full power, it was throttled through its power range to ensure that the magnetic valves functioned properly. Then, with the reactor throttled to its lowest setting, hydrogen propellant was circulated into the VASIMR engines to be ionized to plasma and ejected through the nozzles. Remotely operated robots measured the specific impulse of the engines and any leaking neutron flux from the reactor.

In actual practice, it was a bit more complicated. With Jon hovering in the background, Ari positioned himself in the Pullman Core at the Remote VASIMR Console, the RVC, that doubled as the Remote Reactor Console, the RRC. Although the RVC was functionally identical to the other three consoles in the Core, it was dedicated to VASIMR and reactor control except in an emergency. He put Noel and Chen in the Caboose at the Local Reactor Console, the LRC and the Local VASIMR Console, the LVC, respectively. Radiation and magnetic field levels were constantly monitored at each station during the test. First, Ari had Noel run the reactor through its dynamic range using the local controls. It was a step-by-step process following specific protocols with a series of automatic measurements taken at each step. Then he ran through the same set of tests again from the RVC. Any significant difference in a locally versus remotely controlled step would have been cause to stop the test and determine the problem. The results of the two runs coincided to three decimal places, which was a remarkable display of engineering precision.

The VASIMR tests were run in a similar fashion, except that first, each individual engine went through its paces, then they were paired for six configurations, and finally, run as triplets for four configurations. Because there were so many more variables, the results between the local and remote tests were a little less precise but still well within specs.

At the end of a long eight hours, Ari turned to Jon. “That does it, Skipper. You’ve got a functioning ship.”

Z

Saeed tensed when he heard Noel and Chen enter his level from the core cylinder on their way to the Caboose. When they continued to the lower-level access, he permitted himself to relax, praise be to Allah. The hours passed slowly, but he filled his time with memorizing long portions of the Qur’an, a worthy task for a holy warrior.

Some eight hours later, when the two engineers passed through the Box a second time, Saeed barely noted their transit. He was puzzling over a turn of phrase he had discovered in the Qur’an that seemed to speak directly to Jihad and his own fated assignment.

Saeed read in the Qur’an at 4:74: Let those fight in the way of Allah who sell the life of this world for the other. Whoso fighteth in the way of Allah, be he slain or be he victorious, on him we shall bestow a vast reward.

Was the Qur’an speaking of his trip to Iapetus—the other world, or was it just referring to the afterlife? Saeed puzzled this question for the entire day, with a growing conviction that he had discovered a new truth, a truth that put him in a special status before Allah.

The Other World Warrior. He liked that phrase, hardly noticing that he had capitalized the words in his own perception.

Z

 Captain Jon Stock floated comfortably in his seat at the Command Console in the Pullman Core. Unlike the control console on his Mars expedition that sported flat panel displays and traditional readouts and switches, the Cassini II Command Console consisted of a slightly recessed holographic display tank and a Link pad. The holodisplay contained relevant readouts that could be set to whatever display preference Jon wished. It also displayed a computer-enhanced view from any one of the several dozen monoview and holocams inside and outside the ship. When Jon wasn’t at the console, he could call up whatever display he wished on his personal Link. His holodisplay currently showed the launch status readouts. On his right sat his second in command, Dmitri Gagarin. His console was designated the Astrogation Console, although it was functionally identical to the Command Console. It displayed the immediate Astrogation parameters that controlled their launch. At the moment both console displays were more form than function, as the onboard computer would control the actual launch. Strategically placed throughout the Core, several holocams recorded their activities and broadcast them to an eager worldwide audience. The console displays were more for that audience than for any immediate use to Jon and Dmitri. Both officers had opted to wear their uniforms for the occasion, and had even exchanged salutes for their audience when Dmitri entered the Core a few moments following Jon’s arrival.

To Jon’s left, Ginger Steele occupied the Communications Console. It, too, was functionally identical to the Command Console, but Ginger was actually performing a required function as she coordinated the communication link between Cassini II and the waiting world. At L-4, a one-way signal was delayed by just under one and a half seconds. With appropriate manipulation and insertion of micro-delays between words and phrases, it was possible to make the delay seem to disappear. Ginger’s computer-controlled all this, but it still took a human touch at the “controls” to make it appear completely normal. Ginger had taken her doctorate in planetary astronomy at Stanford, which more than qualified her as the assistant Astrogator. But it was her undergraduate work at the University of Melbourne and her graduate work at Stanford in electrical engineering and communications technology that developed her skills in this area. She wore a dark blue jumpsuit that emphasized her height and unrestrained subtle curves, so that in the looks department, she completely eclipsed both military officers.

Ari Rawlston was the fourth person in the Core, occupying the RVC, opposite the Command Console. Like Ginger, he wore a dark blue jumpsuit, but by common agreement, it did not do for him what hers did for her. And like Ginger, he actually had something to do when the time came—throttle up the reactor, and then energize and throttle up the four VASIMR engines. This could have been accomplished by the command computer, but both Jon and Ari were more comfortable controlling this step directly. For the launch, Ari put Noel and Chen in the Caboose at the LRC and the LVC, respectively. A local holocam flashed their jumpsuit-clad images through Ginger to the waiting world to satisfy their respective governments and keep their legions of fans happy.

Doc Bhuta took station in sickbay, clad in a traditional white smock covering her jumpsuit. Her long black hair was attractively wrapped around her crown to keep it from floating freely in the zero-gee. Her image, too, passed through Ginger to the world. Michele stationed herself in the botanical garden, more for her public than for any other reason. Her shoulder-length blond hair was caught up in a ponytail that was flipped up over her head to form a floating golden crown, and her green jumpsuit made it abundantly clear that she was female. Jon placed Elke on the second level in the electronics section, not because she was needed there, but to satisfy her need to be useful, and to give the watching world a sense that all bases were covered. Her dark jumpsuit was professional and was virtually indistinguishable from those worn by Noel and Chen.

Representatives of the world press interviewed each crew member. The protocol for the interviews, and even the interview order, had been worked out weeks before by government negotiators for each participant. Jon had attempted to take control of the process, but was ordered in no uncertain terms by the U.S. government liaison to back off. He was the last individual to be interviewed.

“We are embarking on an historic voyage,” Jon told a worldwide audience at the end of his interview, “a voyage with immense implications. The entire world knows why we are undertaking a one-and-a-half-billion-kilometer journey to a remote moon of the planet Saturn. The entire world knows what Iapetus represents—potentially. We will turn that potential into a certainty. My crew and I represent all of you. We carry with us your hopes and dreams, and for some of you, I am certain, your fears and worst nightmares. But know that we are seeking truth. We intend to follow that path, no matter where it leads. So far as it is humanly possible, we will take you with us. You will see what we see, hear what we hear, and discover with us what we discover. Thank you for letting us represent you on this epic quest. Wish us Godspeed!”

CASSINI II—UNDERWAY

J

on turned to the Command Console and keyed the Link All-Call to reach everybody. “Report status,” he ordered.

One by one, each of the crew members reported “Go” or some version thereof. This, too, was for public consumption. They had actually rehearsed it several times to get the rhythm down pat. An indicator in the bottom left of Jon’s holodisplay had been green for several minutes, indicating that Cassini II was ready for launch. A half-hour earlier, space tugs hired by the various wire services had pulled back several hundred meters. Several dozen long-range cameras in those tugs remained locked on the sixty-six-meter-long cylinder. At L-4, one of the deep-space astronomical telescopes turned to focus on the spaceship. Everything and everyone was ready. There was absolutely no more reason to delay.

“Throttle up the reactor,” Jon ordered quietly, his words flashing around the world.

“Throttle up the reactor, aye Sir,” Ari responded and manipulated his pad, causing an indicator bar in his holodisplay to move from one end to the other, watched by eyes around the world.

Some fifty meters behind them, magnetic valves dilated to enable pressurized gaseous uranium-hexafluoride to flow into the fused silica chamber in the reactor’s core. The fissile density of the radioactive gas increased rapidly so that within just a few seconds, the mixture began to produce prodigious quantities of high-energy ultraviolet light that passed through the silica walls to impact the array of photovoltaic receptors. These cells immediately began to generate large amounts of electric current.

“At full power, Skipper,” Ari announced.

“Roger that,” Jon said. “Power up the engines. Set thrust to point one.”

“Power up the engines, aye, Sir. Setting thrust to zero point one-gee.” Ari used the term “gee,” which was the generally accepted terminology for Earth-normal gravity. He set the VASIMR engine thrust for the four engines to produce a ship’s thrust equivalent to one-tenth the gravity on Earth.

Almost instantly, everything in the Core, and all over the ship, took on a weight equivalent of one-tenth that of the Earth’s gravity.

“We are underway,” Jon announced.

“This is CapCom, Houston. We read you underway at eight-oh-three zulu. All systems nominal.”

“Roger, CapCom,” Jon responded. “We’re fine here, other than a couple of items that found their way to the deck.” Jon passed a silent signal to Ginger, who did something to her pad. “Terminated general broadcast,” Jon announced. “CapCom, Cassini,” indicating he, the captain, was speaking, “all comms through you now.”

“Roger that, Cassini. Give me a two-level comms check.”

“CapCom, Cassini One,” Dmitri said into the circuit.

“Roger that, Cassini One.”

“CapCom, Cassini Two,” Ginger said.

“Roger that, Cassini Two.” There was a pause of several minutes. “This is CapCom. Your systems remain nominal. Shifting to continuous standby monitoring. CapCom shifting to standby. Bon voyage, guys. We’ve got your back!”

Z

Saeed noted the passage of the two engineers on their way to the Caboose. Not long thereafter, he felt the gentle one-tenth-gee thrust and recognized they finally were underway. He paused in his memorizing the current Qur’an passage to give silent thanks to Allah. He was underway to the other world as promised in the Qur’an. His holy mission, now more important than ever since his epiphany, was a reality. He barely heard the engineers returning to the Pullman, as he was fully engulfed in a spiritual rapture that overcame him as he pondered his Islamic good fortune.

Z

“We’re private,” Jon announced to the crew members in the Core. “Ari, bring Noel and Chen up. We’re on a four-hour Core watch routine with the engineer types. The Doc, Michele, and Elke will set their own hours. Dmitri, you have the first watch, then Ginger, Ari, Noel, Chen, and myself. If you’re going to switch with someone, let me know, please. “

“Let me get out of this uniform, Skipper, then I’ll take over,” Dmitri said.

After Dmitri returned to the Core wearing a jumpsuit, Jon went to his quarters and removed his uniform. He glanced out the port, but could see no change. Earth was nearly centered in the round port, and as he looked at the partially cloud-covered mottled blue globe, he felt a sense of awe. Jon carried his Mars experience with an easy accommodation that surprised most people, and even caught him off guard sometimes. As one of only four people to have been there and done that, he knew that in the world’s eyes, he was unique. As he looked at his home world through the meter-wide port, he felt unique. They were going five times as far, and the destination was not a dead, empty world, but one that held the promise of…well, the promise of something else, something unknown in the most extravagant meaning of that word. He reveled in the feeling as he donned his jumpsuit and opened the connecting door to the common area.

Ginger stood before the port, tall, regal, and beautiful. She turned as Jon entered. “Captain…,” she said, letting the word hang in the space between them.

He joined her at the port, and together they silently contemplated the unchanging stars. “Have you looked at the Moon from your quarters?” Jon asked her.

“Not yet,” she answered. “I came up here instead because…well, I’m not really certain why, but I came up here.”

Elke joined them from the electronics bay. “Finally,” she said.

After five minutes or so of quiet contemplation, Elke moved to one of the food lockers that lined the common area wall. “I’m hungry,” she said. “Anyone want to join me?”

“I’ll have a bite,” Ginger said.

“Me, too,” Noel said as he joined them from the central ladder way, followed shortly by Chen.

“Join us too, Chen,” Elke told him, waving him over.

“Where’re the other girls?” Ginger asked no one in particular.

“Right here, mon Cherie,” Michele said, poking her head out of the ladder way, followed by Doc Bhuta. Michele passed out perfunctory kisses all the way around, except for Jon, to whom she said, with a twinkle in her eye, “Mon Capitaine.” Or were they that perfunctory? Jon wasn’t sure.

As the crew members sat in the common area, eating together for the first time on their ship, underway, Jon noticed that Carmen bowed her head briefly before taking her first bite. He wasn’t sure that anyone else noticed.

Ari showed up a moment later, and Jon caught his eye, indicating for Ari to join him in his cabin. With the door closed, Jon asked his friend, “Is your Mossad antenna deployed? Does your gut tell you anything?”

“Why’s that, Jon?”

“Can’t put my finger on it, Ari. Something I saw…something I heard…something on holovision…something…”

“Did you hear the Persian Caliph’s proclamation this morning?”

“Khomeini?” Jon asked.

“Yeh…that asshole.”

“I did, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what he said.” Jon researched his memory. “Something about you, indirectly, I think.”

“He condemned Israeli participation in this expedition—again, like he’s done a thousand times already,” Ari said.

“But there was something about Jihad will continue, or Jihad continues…”

Ari called the broadcast up on his Link. They still were in range, although the upload was patchy. When he received it, he displayed it on his Link. A quick search brought up this excerpt:

“You are stepping in Allah’s preserve; may He be praised. The Almighty will turn a cold shoulder to your efforts. He will bring Holy Jihad to your stoop. Holy Jihad will follow you into the heavens and cast you down, as surely as Allah is master of Heaven and Earth.” There was much more, but this caught Jon’s attention.

“That’s it, I think,” he said. “What do you make of it?”

“It’s just more same-o same-o, Jon. These idiots never give up, do they?”

“Just the same,” Jon said quietly, “I’ll be glad when we are genuinely out of their reach.”

CHAPTER THREE

CASSINI II—UNDER POWER

T

he following morning toward the end of his four-hour watch, Jon received Flash Cassini traffic on his display, designated eyes only. He acknowledged reception, and the display indicator vanished. A few minutes later, just before eight, Jon turned over the watch to Dmitri and went to his quarters. The Earth had shifted from the center of his port toward the rear and was only a small fraction of its former apparent size. They were now nearly four million kilometers from Earth, ten times the distance of the Moon. They were eating up distance at over eighty-six kilometers a second, going faster by about a meter per second for every second that passed. Roundtrip comms took nearly a half-minute at this distance.

Jon called up the Flash Cassini communication on his Link and entered his private decryption code. The duty CapCom appeared and said cryptically, “The following message is for Jon Stock only.” His image vanished and was replaced by words floating in the display.

“At oh-two-hundred zulu, we confirmed a velocity discrepancy for Cassini II. Based on the precise acceleration parameters transmitted from Cassini II, and the exact payload as determined from the engine test conducted after loadout, but before the crew arrived, and factoring in the measured mass of the entire crew and its effects, we have an excess of 80.93 kg of mass unaccounted for. Sometime between engine test and launch, 80.93 kg of mass was added to the Cassini II loadout. We are reviewing everything that occurred between those times to ascertain what we can from this end. We have recalculated the start-stop parameters based upon this new information. It will be uploaded into your astrogation computer when you give your specific authorization. We will send further Flash Cassini traffic when we have concluded our investigation. A final cautionary note. We ran exhaustive background checks on all the crew, but since governments were involved, we cannot know for certain that there is not some collusion taking place. Be cautious and watch your back.”

Jon closed his Link and drew a cup of coffee from his personal spigot. He sat at his desk looking out the port beyond it at the dwindling Earth and contemplated the startling news. Eighty-one kilograms—it could be almost anything, a missed container of supplies, an oxygen bottle, a missed piece of equipment, even a human. He thought about that for a moment—a stowaway on an interplanetary voyage. Not likely—more the stuff of a holovision drama.

Using his Link, Jon called Ari. “Ari, can you come to my cabin, please?”

Five minutes later, Ari settled into a chair facing Jon’s desk. “How long have we known each other?” Jon asked.

“‘bout twenty-five years, give or take.”

“And how long have we been friends?”

“‘bout twenty-five years, give or take.” Ari grinned at him. “What gives, Buddy?”

“Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“What do you mean, Jon?”

“I mean, is there anything you need to tell me…something I need to know, but you haven’t told me yet?”

“Your comments yesterday, your feeling of unease…I didn’t tell you that we picked up some chatter about the Caliphate trying to do something to this expedition. Nothing specific, and it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared. We heard nothing at all during the final week. Didn’t seem important, so I didn’t mention it to you.”

“That’s it…nothing else?” Jon locked eyes with his friend. “Absolutely nothing else?”

“Nothing, Jon…on our friendship, nothing…”

“Fair enough.” Jon broke eye contact and tapped his Link. When the flash Cassini traffic appeared, without comment, he rotated the holodisplay so Ari could read it.

A minute later, Ari looked at Jon. “That’s fucking crazy, Jon. They’re saying we’ve got something or somebody onboard. It’s insane!” Ari stood up abruptly, the sudden momentum change lifting him off the deck momentarily. “I should check their numbers. Maybe they got bore-sighted on something and missed it.” He strode toward the stateroom door. “I should have an answer by the end of my watch.”

Z

During the remainder of Dmitri’s watch, Ari worked on the problem. Rather than simply duplicate Houston’s calculations, he opted to take another tack. He worked from the loadout manifest, verifying the mass of each item brought onboard. It was a tedious task that took him through Dmitri’s watch and well into Ginger’s. Once he had derived the total mass of the onload, he combined it with the known mass of the ship itself and compared this number to the total mass Houston had derived from the engine test. It matched to one decimal place—more than close enough.

Ari then examined the crew manifest, looking for anything unusual. Two items stood out. Michele deBois’ personal effects massed in a normal range, but the volume was about half again as much as would have been normal. Elke Gratz brought aboard a normal volume of personal effects, but they massed about fifty percent more than normal. Although neither discrepancy could have accounted for the apparently extra mass, Ari decided to visit each woman personally. He located Michele in her lab on the bottom level.

He opened the door to the space, only to find his way barred by a fine net stretched completely across a lightweight polymer passageway sealed to the door. He passed through a self-closing opening in the net, and two paces beyond passed through a second net into the lab. Michele was puttering with a tray of plants. Out of the corner of his eye, Ari saw something swooping toward him and ducked.

“What the hell was that?” He quipped.

“Emmanuelle,” she answered, “and there’s Phillip.” She pointed to a yellow canary—male, judging from its name. “I know, Cherie, no one knows yet. I suppose sooner or later…” Her voice trailed off. “You think it’s a problem?”

Ari shook his head in amazement. “No, Michele, no problem, but you probably should have told someone.” He gave her a warm smile.

“Merci, you beautiful man,” Michele said, lifting herself on her toes, taking both his cheeks in her hands, and kissing him soundly and thoroughly.

Ari was slightly flustered by her unexpected response but pleased in a way that excited him. Michele winked at him as he turned to leave.

Ari poked his head into the fifth level on his way forward and found Elke pumping iron on the other side of the space. She was using a set of free weights that he knew were not on the manifest list. “Hey, Elke…”

“Hey, yourself.”

“Never saw those before,” Ari said in passing.

“Nope…brought them in my hand baggage.” She grinned at him. “They work totally different in low-gee.” She handed him a dumbbell. “Try it.”

He did…it was…and he handed it back. “Weird,” he said. “Gotta go. My watch is coming up.”

With the two discrepancies resolved, Ari faced the same calculations using the same numbers as Houston a few hours earlier. He grabbed a quick bite in the Canteen and then assumed the watch from Ginger. He was still tingling from Michele’s kiss and found himself comparing the two women—Ginger and Michele. In appearance, they could not have been more different. Ginger’s skin was blue-black, with her kinky hair cropped close to her head. Her small-breasted body was long and lithe. Her physical beauty was striking. Michele, on the other hand, was fair-skinned and blond with a small tight curvaceous body that screamed sensuality. Her physical beauty was, if anything, even more striking—at least to Ari.

He thrust these thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the calculations. He was dealing with third-order derived numbers, and their derivation was tricky. Since the ship flew itself, he had nothing else to do but follow the calculations to their inevitable resolution. Near the end of his watch, he called Jon. “The numbers match,” he said. “They’re real.”

Z

Meanwhile, Elke had continued to work out in the rec room. After completing her free weight sets, she spent the next half hour on the treadmill, facing one of the ports with a view of the shrinking Earth. As she neared the end of the half-hour, feeling exhilarated from the exercise, she heard a sound behind her and stepped off the treadmill, turning around. Michele had just entered the space and caught her breath at the sight of Elke, perspiration flowing freely from her face, soaking her tank top, wetly outlining her nipples.

“Ma Chérie!