“No, you can go,” the planetologist replied, not bothering to turn around. “Next time, though, I expect you to be here when I call. I know you’re military but in the scientific world, time is of the essence.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind, Doctor,” the master sergeant said as he made his way out of the torpedo room. The worst part was, his job was keeping this asshole alive.
“Probe ready on Tube Number Four,” the tactical officer said. Lieutenant Souza was grinning madly. “Ready to launch space probe, sir!”
“Ready Tube Four,” the XO replied.
“Tube primed,” the launch controller replied. “Tube Four ready to launch.”
“Launch probe.”
The boat shuddered as the probe was fired from the torpedo tube and began its descent to Saturn’s atmosphere.
The probe was essentially identical to the Huygens probe that was part of the larger Cassini spacecraft launched many years before. Once clear of the tube, gyros rotated the rear of the probe in the direction necessary to slow its progress and a rocket fired, slowing the probe so that Saturn’s gravity could capture it.
The entire assembly remained together, the retro rockets firing from time to time to slow its fall or correct its entry, until it hit the outer shreds of the deep Saturnian atmosphere. Then the “mission package” detached from the rocket, which was left to plummet away into the depths.
The mission package, though, deployed a parachute, initially just a thin ribbon of high-tensile cloth, that slowed its descent as automated systems began air sampling. The GCMS was an only slightly updated copy of the Huygens package. The instrument was a versatile gas chemical analyzer that could measure a wide variety of chemicals and their concentration in the Saturnian atmosphere. The gas chromatograph of the system made fine measurements of the gas content, then implemented a heater to create pyrolysis products that would then be more finely measured by the ACP. The ACP would also suck in some of the Saturn atmospheric gasses through various filters and cook them as well to decompose them into more basic materials that could be analyzed via the GCMS. The system worked flawlessly and generated the most detailed understanding of the gas giant planet’s atmosphere that mankind had ever had.
The most important component of the mission was locality. The receiving station was the Blade and it was very close to the probe when compared to the distance between Cassini-Huygens and Earth. The close range allowed the probe to connect to the Blade with a data rate similar to broadband Internet as opposed to the few bits per second available to the Cassini-Huygens probe. Therefore the probe could pump data continuously as it plunged deeper and deeper into the vapors of Saturn’s atmosphere without worrying about overloading the memory of the Blade. The Blade could also send real-time commands to the descent probe that couldn’t have been done from Earth. Actual data points only meters apart along the descent trajectory were taken and a constant optimization of the probe’s descent was maintained. The difference of actually being there and tossing a robot from Earth was immediately apparent.
Most people on the boat, though, weren’t paying much attention to the “take”…
“Thank you for letting us up here, Captain,” Mimi said, staring up through the boat’s sole viewport.
To drop the probe the Vorpal Blade had actually come inside the orbit of Saturn’s rings. From Earth they were just a thick band of white. Up close the rings, composed mostly of ice with some rocky material, reflected a billion colors like a rainbow. Light from Saturn shone on them as well as the light from the distant sun, causing an effulgently rippling coruscation across the surface.
The light reflected down into the conn, giving the normally austere compartment a glory that was rare indeed.
“You are very welcome, Miss Jones,” the captain said. He was still unsure about having an underage female on-board, but it was fun to give her the treat. He’d actually let several of the mission specialists onto the conn to enjoy the sight. Select members of the crew had been let in earlier. He wasn’t about to deny the sight of this vista to the youngster.
“We have about another thirty minutes until the probe completes its descent,” the captain continued. “But there are other people who want to come up and see. It’s not the same on the videos. So you only have fifteen minutes.”
“That’s okay,” Mimi said, turning away from the sight and smiling at him. “I’ve seen enough. You can let someone else up.”
“You can stay…” the captain said.
“I’ve seen it,” Mimi said, shaking her head. “I can recall it perfectly any time I’d like. Give someone else the chance.”
“Very well,” the CO said, nodding.
“Hello, Dr. Weaver,” Mimi said, looking over at Bill.
“Hi, Mimi,” Weaver replied. “But it’s commander on the conn.”
“Yes, sir,” Mimi said. “I heard that we’re going to do an investigation of the heliopause and the bow shock.”
The heliopause was the point where the solar wind stopped holding off the ISM, the interstellar medium, the thinly diffused helium and hydrogen that filled interstellar space. The solar wind, a collection of rays and charged particles blown out by the sun, held back the ISM from entering the solar system. And the solar system was not stationary; it was moving “spinward” with the galaxy. So the wind, blowing out, hit the interstellar medium especially hard in the spinward direction. The heliopause was therefore compressed on that side so that the whole zone looked much like an egg with the “flatter” side to spinward and the elongated side anti-spinward.
At the point where the solar wind stopped holding off the ISM to spinward was a particularly compressed zone of hydrogen and helium called the bow shock. Thin by comparison with planetary atmospheres, it nonetheless was a relatively volatile region. Bill had planned pausing in the area to do some sampling, but had not anticipated problems with it.
“Yes,” Bill said, frowning. “The Pioneers and Voyagers have been acting weird. NASA wants to know why.”
“I would advise you to travel carefully in that area,” Mimi said, frowning in turn. “You know the theories of the causes, right?”
“Either magnetic build-up or gravity fluctuations,” Bill said, nodding. “And?”
“I… I’m a proponent of the latter,” Mimi said carefully. “There is theory that indicates that gravity acts differently around stars than in interstellar space at a fundamental level.”
“Know that one,” Bill said. “You’re worried about fluctuations? We’ll be in warp, we should be fine.”
“There’s a possibility that the fluctuations could be… strong,” Mimi said. “You could be looking at gravitational standing waves of two gravities or higher.”
“You sure?” Bill asked, gesturing with his chin at Tuffy.
“Tuffy… lets me figure out things on my own,” Mimi said. “But if you hit a high gravitational fluctuation—”
“The boat could come out of warp,” Bill said, his eyes closing in thought. “Hell, the damned sphere could get pulled out of the mag field. It’ll take the shock, but…”
“I would advise going carefully,” Mimi said. “Especially around the bow shock.” She nodded to the captain and then walked out of the compartment whereupon the COB let one of the other mission specialists into the conn.
“I’m starting to figure out why she’s along,” the captain said.
“Yes, sir,” Bill replied.
“You know each other,” the CO said.