Waving him to the only chair in front of his desk, Timoshenko said, “Pardon my inimitable way of expressing myself. It’s a bad habit.”
“What can I do for you?” Habib asked as he sat down. “You realize, of course, that I am responsible to Dr. Urbain and if you need my time or the time of any of his other people he will have to approve of it.”
Timoshenko grunted and sank back into his chair. “I have a problem that involves the safety of this entire habitat.”
Habib felt his brows rise.
Pointing to the graph displayed on one of the smart walls, Timoshenko said, “We’ve been having power outages. I’ve determined that they’re caused by surges in the electromagnetic field surrounding Saturn.”
“Surges in Saturn’s magnetic field?”
Nodding, Timoshenko replied, “You scientists have known for years that there are electrical surges coming from the planet—”
“Electromagnetic.”
“Yes, of course. That’s what I meant.”
“And they apparently originate in the rings, somehow.”
“Whatever,” said Timoshenko, with some impatience. “The surges overload our power circuitry and cause outages.”
“I don’t understand,” said Habib. “We generate electricity from solar cells, do we not?”
“That’s our main source, yes. But the current generated by the solarvoltaics must be converted to frequencies that electrical equipment can use. It’s not a direct line between the solar cells and your coffeepot, you know.”
“Ah. Of course.”
“Those surges overload the inverters. It’s my job to correct the situation.”
Habib almost laughed. “I hope you don’t believe you can stop Saturn’s natural processes.”
“No, but if I know when the surges can be expected I can protect my power systems from them. I think.”
“You need to be able to predict when the surges will come?”
“Yes. That’s the first step toward ending these confounding outages.”
“They seem to be random in their timing?”
“Not exactly random,” said Timoshenko. “They seem to come every few weeks, in clusters.”
Habib stroked his beard absently. “Every few weeks?”
“More or less.” Timoshenko said, growing irritated at Habib’s echoing everything he said. He waited for another question. When Habib remained silent the engineer added, “If I knew when to expect the surges I could at least shut down nonessential electrical equipment so we wouldn’t overload the system and get outages.”
“I see.”
“I can’t shut down equipment for days at a time, you understand. A few hours, yes, maybe. So I need to know when the surges are coming.”
“Is shutting down equipment the best thing to do?”
“No. Shielding the inverters and the main power lines is what we have to do, but that takes time and materials and labor. In the meanwhile, either I shut down nonessentials when a surge is coming or we keep on having these damned outages.”
“I see,” Habib repeated.
“You scientists have the data on the surges. That’s where I got it from.”
“And you want me to analyze the data so that you can predict when surges will occur?”
“Yes!” Timoshenko said fervently.
“I’ll have to get Dr. Urbain’s permission to work on the problem. I don’t know if he’ll agree. He—”
“Tell Urbain that either we solve this problem or the entire habitat might go dark.”
Habib’s eyes widened. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“Can you assure me that it won’t get that bad? Suppose a really big surge knocks out our inverters completely? What then?”
“I understand,” said Habib. Rising from his chair, he added, “I’ll speak to Dr. Urbain about this immediately.”
“Good,” Timoshenko said, getting up from his chair and reaching across the desk for Habib’s hand.
But the computer scientist went on, “But I doubt that he will allow me to work for you. He won’t want to let me go.”
“He’ll have to,” Timoshenko insisted. “You’ll have to convince him.”
Looking thoroughly unhappy, Habib murmured, “I’ll try.”
“Good,” Timoshenko repeated, and thrust his hand across the desk again. Habib hesitated a moment, then took it in his own. The man’s grip was gentle, almost weak, Timoshenko thought.
“Thank you.”
Once Habib had left his office, Timoshenko plopped down in his oversize swivel chair again, thinking, If Urbain doesn’t give permission for Habib to work on this, I’ll go to Eberly and get him to draft the man. This is more important than trying to find some lost toy on Titan. This is vital!
13 April 2096: Urbain’s office
As he walked reluctantly along the hallway that led to Urbain’s office, Habib wondered how he could possibly convince the chief scientist to allow him to work with Timoshenko.
He won’t do it, Habib told himself. He will refuse. The only thing he cares about is his Titan Alpha. He’ll say Timoshenko is an alarmist, an engineer who doesn’t understand how important it is to bring Alpha back to life.
Habib dreaded asking Urbain’s permission. He knew he could not stand up to his chief’s wrath. Why has Timoshenko put me in this position? he asked himself. He should go to Urbain himself. Why is he making me do it? Why did I agree to do it?
Urbain’s office door was less than twenty meters away and Habib slowed his pace, approaching it. Then he saw Negroponte leaving Urbain’s office and stepping out into the hallway. She looked shaken, white-faced.
“What’s wrong, Yollie?” he asked.
Looking as if she were about to cry, the biologist replied, “I asked permission to work with Wunderly on her samples from the ring. He went hyperbolic. I thought he’d have a stroke.”
“He denied you permission?”
“He screamed at me. He threatened to send me back to Earth with a reprimand and a negative recommendation.”
Habib had never seen Negroponte appear cowed or frightened. It surprised him. Something stirred inside him. He felt his cheeks flush.
“He can’t do that.”
“Can’t he?” she said, tears brimming in her eyes.
Anger! Habib realized it was the heat of anger rising inside him. Urbain has hurt her, humiliated her, made her cry. For one of the rare times in his life, Habib acted impulsively. He seized Negroponte’s wrist with one hand and slid open the door to Urbain’s office with the other. Practically dragging the biologist after him, he stormed into Urbain’s office.
“What is this?” Urbain demanded, looking up.
“You have no right to threaten members of your staff,” Habib said, wagging an accusing finger at his chief. Marching up to Urbain’s desk, he released Negroponte’s wrist. “You must apologize to Dr. Negroponte.”
“Apologize? I—”
“Dr. Negroponte is a capable biologist, so capable that Dr. Wunderly is seeking her help in analyzing her samples from the rings. And you threaten her? You scream at her?”
Visibly trembling, Urbain got to his feet. “I am the director of this scientific staff and I will not tolerate such insolence!”
Habib did not back off one millimeter. “You will apologize to Dr. Negroponte. Now!”
“What’s going on here?” Urbain shouted. “Have you both gone insane? Has everyone gone mad?”
“Dr. Negroponte is needed to analyze the ring samples. It is wrong for you to deny her permission to do so.”
“Titan Alpha is the first priority here.”
“Titan Alpha is dead or asleep. You don’t need your best biologist to stare at blank data screens.”
“You …” Urbain seemed to totter momentarily. He sank back into his chair.