Saving proxima, p.26
Saving Proxima, page 26
“Ambassador Jesus, please come up now and brief us on your mission orders,” Crosby said. He stepped podium right as Charles approached.
“Thank you, Captain Crosby,” Charles started. Rain watched and listened with fascination. So many things had happened while she was asleep. She couldn’t believe all that she’d missed.
CHAPTER 41
January 3, 2094 (Earth timeline)
July 28, 2092 (Ship timeline)
approximately 2.122 light-years from Earth
2.122 light-years from Proxima
“Charles, I was thinking about this and I cannot seem to get it out of my head.” Rain pointed at the image of the saboteur, Ray Gaines, on the screen in front of them. Rain had a thought in the back of her mind that she had seen that man before. She wasn’t sure exactly where, but she knew she had. “So, I went through a lot of video to find this.”
“What is this about, Rain?” He sipped at a beverage in his hand as he watched her excitedly flipping through files in front of them on the big screen in the galley.
“That Gaines fellow. We’ve both seen him before. Many times, actually,” Rain said.
“We what?”
“Look here.” Rain tapped at some icons in the air around her that only she could see. Then she tossed one of them toward the big screen. “You remember that day that Dr. Luce came on board the Samaritan while we were getting ready to leave from lunar dock?”
“I do,” Charles Jesus replied.
“Well, I went back and got the video feeds from security at the dock entrance. Look here.” She pointed with an arrow icon on the screen. “You see this guy here in the back of Luce’s entourage?”
“Yeah, from the looks of it he’s wearing a press badge.”
“He was. Records show him as Raymond Simms.” Rain tapped at the air a bit and then turned back to Charles. “Look, here are the dock airlock records showing his credentials.”
“Okay. He was a press guy. So, uh, where are you going with this, Rain?”
“He only appears in this video. Any other video where Luce is on the ship, he’s not there. Either he’s been edited out, or he wasn’t there. He came on the ship but didn’t stay with the MEP’s tour,” Rain said excitedly. “So, I took this picture here from the dock video and enhanced it using some planetary imagery astronomy software on my pad. And voilà!”
“It’s Gaines . . . ” Charles said quietly and leaned forward for a closer look, setting his cup down suddenly appearing to lose interest in the drink. “Holy . . . ”
“Ha! I was wondering if you’d say ‘Jesus’ like the rest of us,” Rain joked with him.
“You’re not funny, Rain.” Still, Charles laughed.
“But you’d be right to have said it. And there’s more.” Rain tapped some more in the air. “I got to thinking about Luce. You remember how he was such an ass during the UN hearings on whether or not to communicate with Proxima?”
“I do. And he was an ass,” Charles agreed.
“Well, I was thinking that the reason I recognized Gaines wasn’t because of the tour that Luce did on the ship. No, I recalled it from sometime before that. And I finally figured it out.”
“Go on.”
“Gaines, or Simms, or whoever he is, was there at the UN summit with Luce. I found him in the background of this press briefing here.” She tossed another video on the screen and drew a little red circle around a man in the background behind Luce. “See?”
“I would be hard-pressed to say ‘exactly’ from this video.” Charles sounded apprehensive.
“Well, watch this. Same enhancement algorithm.” Rain hit an icon floating before her again and the image zoomed in and enhanced. She then pulled all three images up. “Here’s Gaines, Simms, and this person. All three match to be the same face to a ninety-nine point nine eight correlation percentage. It was him.”
“I see, Rain. Jesus,” Charles said with a raised eyebrow. Rain chuckled.
“Now you’re just patronizing me.” She laughed. “But it’s him. And he was with Luce. I remember seeing Luce talking to him.”
“You know. Now that you mention it, I think I do too.” Charles sat up straight and turned to face Rain. “We need to show this to the captain and get it sent back home to the right authorities.”
“Alright. I’m sending this to you and Crosby.”
CHAPTER 42
May 3, 2094 (Earth timeline)
February 2, 2093 (Ship timeline)
approximately 2.25 light-years from Earth
1.87 light-years from Proxima
“Why is it that you’re waking me up, CHENG?”
“Sorry, sir.” Cindy Mastrano had hated having to wake the captain up again out of cycle. But this required it. She got straight to the point. “Captain, Gaines left us another present.”
“What the hell is it this time?” Crosby growled over his orange juice. From the looks of his skin color and the way he attacked the drink, Cindy figured his electrolytes and blood sugar were still extremely low from the cryo.
“The comms from home, well, something is scrambling them,” the CHENG explained. “We’ve tracked it down from antenna-to-screen and can’t figure out how and where it is happening.”
“Wait, you mean our communications from home are scrambled?” Crosby asked.
“Yes. We’ve spent two weeks trying to isolate and repair the problem. We even replaced all the modules with the spares,” Cindy said. “Nothing is working. We can see the signal plain as day on the spectrum analyzer, but it is encrypted to hell and gone. Without a key, I doubt we ever decrypt it.”
“When was the last data that we could read?”
“Just after the midpoint physicals. It’s like he knew when we’d all be asleep and not looking,” Cindy said. “If he somehow got this embedded in all the spares and components, which it looks like he did, we’d have to build a completely new comm system to fix this.”
“Do we have the materials to fix it?” Crosby asked.
“I don’t know, maybe, but . . . ”
“Well, spit it out, Cindy.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Son of a bitch!”
“Yes, sir. I agree.”
CHAPTER 43
November 28, 2099 (Earth timeline)
November 26, 2096 (Ship timeline)
approximately 4.14 light-years from Earth
0.1 light-years from Proxima
Captain Crosby had been awake for the last three months. It had been his plan all along to be on the last awake team as they made their final approach to the Proxima system. For those three months he and Bob Roca had been studying over the last unscrambled data from the SGLT and from the telescope and sensor systems onboard the Samaritan. All of the imagery of the system and data from astronomers from Proxima led them to the conclusion that there were at least seven planets there of appreciable size. There were no gas giants, as was expected from the red dwarf star. Proxima b was right where it was supposed to be at about 7.5 million kilometers from the star. It looked to be right at 1.17 times the mass of the Earth and it was slightly inclined in its orbit about the star by a little more than a couple of degrees. The eccentricity of the planet’s orbit was about 0.3, causing it to be in what was known as a spin-resonance orbit. The planet took about eleven days to orbit its star and had a day that lasted about twenty-two Earth days, which was confusing because the planet actually rotated about its axis once every seven and a half days.
Crosby focused on the details that were important, not the orbital mechanics per se, but more of the practical knowledge. Day and night on Proxima b were about twenty-two Earth days each. A Proxima b solar year was about eleven Earth days long. There was more. There were two small moons orbiting Proxima b that were roughly the size of Phobos and Deimos orbiting Mars back home. The nearest planet, Proxima d, was actually about half the distance closer to Proxima and was small and rocky, about a third the mass of Earth. Farther out, at about one and a half the distance of the Earth from Sol, was a very large super Earth-type planet astronomers had called Proxima c. It was about seven times the mass of Earth. It had several moons.
“Captain Crosby, medical here.” Crosby tapped at a control on his chair. He looked out the viewscreen as they approached through the system from its Oort Cloud. They had actually done it. They were literally entering another star system far away from home. 4.244 light-years away from home.
“Crosby here, Doc. Go ahead,” he said.
“The last of the cryobeds has been cycled,” Kopylova told him over the comm net.
“Understood, Doc. When Dr. Burbank is able, tell him to report to the bridge.”
“Affirmative, Captain. Medical out.”
“Bob, is there liquid water anywhere else in the system?” Crosby watched as Roca zoomed through various spectrographs, images, and particle sensors. “What about methane ices or carbon dioxide ices?”
“This is a fairly rocky system, Captain. I think we’ll be better off mining for gold than for water,” Roca replied. “But there might be some water in places on the Proxima c or its moons. If it is tidally active there might be volcanic activity under the surface heating some of the ice.”
“Maybe we should get Gilster and Shavers doing some astronomy and analysis on the system once we get settled in. Maybe they can help us with that,” Crosby thought aloud. “How about the other rocky planets farther out? Anything useful?”
“Without doing magnetometry and/or ground penetrating radar, Cap’n, I couldn’t really say. Maybe as we fly closer in, we might use the four Earth masses planet way out here as a fly-by to bleed off some of our velocity vector. We could do some radar analysis then.”
“How long will that take, Bob?”
“Probably like a day?”
“Let’s do that. In fact, let’s do a complete system survey of every planet from the seventh one in. We’ll take this next two weeks getting to know the system. Also, we’ll start an open near-real-time dialogue with the Proximans before we just show up in orbit around their planet saying, ‘Take us to your leader.’” Crosby laughed. “I’d rather take this slow.”
“As you wish, Captain. I’ll work up the best trajectory for maximum survey.”
“Get Gilster and Shavers on that too. They’re the two astrophysics experts on the team,” Crosby ordered. “What’s the use in having a science team if we don’t put them to work?”
“On it, sir.”
“Captain Crosby to Dr. Maggie Oliveira-Santos.” Crosby tapped the icons for ship-wide communication.
“Hello, Captain. Maggie here.”
“Could you please report to the bridge, Doctor?”
“Certainly, sir. Is it urgent or can I finish up with lunch?” Crosby muttered under his breath how the damned scientists didn’t understand ship protocols. When a captain asked for something done, dammit, he wanted something done. But, hell, Crosby had a crew of eggheads who weren’t space vets. He had to recall that almost every single time he dealt with them. He was beginning to recall why he had them all sleep most of the way there.
“Dr. Oliveira-Santos, finish your lunch, but report to the bridge as soon as you can following that,” he said begrudgingly.
“Aye aye, Captain,” the linguistics expert responded jovially.
“Crosby out.” He looked up and noticed Roca staring at him bewildered. “You have something to add, Mr. Roca?”
“Um, no, Cap’n, nothing at all.” Roca turned and kept his mouth shut.
“Bob, as soon as Santos gets here, have her wait ten minutes. I’ll be in my ready room twiddling my damned thumbs. Then come get me,” Crosby said. “See if she gets the damned point.”
CHAPTER 44
December 8, 2099 (Earth timeline)
December 8, 2099 (Ship timeline reset to Earth)
approximately 4.24 light-years from Earth
0 light-years from Proxima
“Captain Crosby of Earth!” the face of a very old female Proximan said. The video was very primitive and low resolution. “It is so wonderful to make your acquaintance. I am Secretary General Balfine Arctinier, the chief executive of Fintidier, which you call Proxima b. The representative governors of our lands have appointed me to make first real-time contacts with our brethren from the stars. Our astronomers tell us you are approximately twenty-five of your minutes away by signal speed. While we appreciate your first communication being in our primary language, that will not be necessary.
“In the ten years that you have been along your way to us, we have mandated worldwide training in your language. You call it English. We welcome you to our system and await further communications with you and your great ship. We are calling upon all of our governors to meet at our preplanned landing facility. We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival for a very long time and cannot wait to meet you in person. Attached to this communication are safety and quarantine protocols our various communities have agreed to. Please familiarize yourself with these protocols. We have time to discuss before your arrival. We look forward to hearing your next communication.”
* * *
“Alright, Zhao. Bring us to an orbit geostationary with the prescribed landing spot,” Crosby ordered. Ming Zhao sat in the pilot’s seat and was literally driving the Samaritan. Crosby waited as the ship slowed into geosynchronous orbit about forty thousand kilometers above the planet. “XO, sound the microgravity alert.”
“Aye!” the XO replied. “All hands, all hands. Prepare for acceleration all-stop and microgravity. Take microgravity stations now. Repeat. All hands, all hands, prepare for microgravity now, now, now.”
“Alright, Zhao, start a five-minute countdown to all-stop and make it happen,” Crosby said.
“Aye sir,” Zhao replied. “Roger, Captain. We are approaching forty-one-thousand-kilometer altitude over the landing spot. I have us slowing in a spiral that will end in five minutes with a final orbital relative velocity of about three point five kilometers per second. Countdown clock is ticking and trajectory course is laid in and activated.”
“Good, Zhao. I guess now we just ride it down. Hope none of you ate a big breakfast this morning.” Crosby could already feel the effects of the lower gravity. The ship had been at very low acceleration for a couple of weeks now and they were about to drop to no acceleration to speak of. The ship would be as “weightless” as they were in lunar dock. They hadn’t been weightless for a long while now and that was going to take a bit of adjustment. He half expected the scientist crew to be deathly sick by the end of the afternoon.
“Captain, I have the landing zone on high-resolution imagery if you want to see it,” Roca said from the astronav station.
“On viewer, Bob.”
“Aye.” Bob grabbed at something in the air before him and made a tossing motion toward the front and main data screen.
The screen in front of the bridge dome switched to an area on a small continent at the equator of the planet Fintidier. Crosby guessed that the continent was not much larger than Iceland or the United Kingdom and it appeared to be, for the most part, uninhabited. The land looked green with a large peak in the middle that suggested volcanic activity. The only inhabited area was the pinpoint marked as the landing zone. Over the past ten or so years since they had left Earth the Proximans had been building up a safe uninhabited location for the Earthlings to land with minimal exposure to the Proximans. Crosby realized that now that they were there and that the Proximans had started speaking English, it was only right for Earthlings to start referring to Proxima b as Fintidier. He wasn’t quite sure how the Proximans, or Fintidierians, decided to spell the name of their planet. To him, when he heard the aliens pronounce the name, it sounded more French than English. Had he been asked to spell it he might have spelled more like Fintideeyay. Maybe it was Cajun, he thought, and the people were Fintidayans. He wasn’t a linguist and he didn’t really give a damn.
There were a few buildings and lights about. It was nighttime currently over the landing zone and would be for another eleven days or so. Not that it really mattered since the star Proxima—which the locals called Finti, according to their protocols package—was a red dwarf and the peak of the light spectrum was in the infrared not the visible. Even during midday on Fintidier the light level was about that of twenty minutes before dusk or after dawn—in other words, very low visible light. In expectation of this, multiple types of starlight, low light, and infrared vision enhancement systems had been brought along. All of the landing party teams would have special low-light contact lenses issued to them as well as infrared glasses.
“Captain, we’re in position and cutting the engine in thirty seconds,” Zhao alerted him.
“Good. Bob, as soon as Zhao can take his hands off the wheel, you two work us out a landing party deorbit plan,” Crosby said.
“Roger that,” Roca replied.
“Captain.” Victor Tarasenko entered the stoop of the bridge just outside the main door, but inside the security door by the down ladder. “Permission to enter the bridge?”
“Yes Mr. Tarasenko, please.” Crosby waved him in. “How can I help you?”
“Captain, I’ve been conducting intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance as we approached—all using our passive instrumentation. I’d like to suggest an active radar mapping of the planet as well as using the particle counters to look for terrestrial gamma ray sources.” Tarasenko shuffled the magnetic sneakers against the deck plates to keep his balance in the ever-decreasing microgravity. He stopped about a meter from the captain’s chair and kept his shoes locked onto the floor.
“I’m not sure how the, Prox . . . uh, Fintidierians will like us actively pinging their planet without asking,” Crosby replied to the Russian signal intelligence expert.
“They will not detect our digital radar, Captain Crosby. I have been paying very close attention to the signals-technology levels on the planet. They do not have digital capabilities and have yet to understand spread spectrum. If we use our modern low-power digital spectrum hopping radar systems with multipass filters they’ll never even know we had them on. And I think we should verify that they have been telling us the truth about themselves.”
