While the pain in Vincenti's chest wasn't incapacitating, he knew he'd need to get the knife taken out sooner rather than later. He could already feel his body trying to accept the foreign object and make it part of him, trouble was the gems on the hilt would be poisonous the instant they touched his skin. He was going to have to make his way to a reputable thaumatist this time, as Ming, while good, was a little rusty on his lesser poison wards and runes.
Vincenti felt the knive burrow into his chest a little further and figured he had about forty five minutes to get somewhere. Ever since the Wraith Skirmishes, good quality thaumatists had been few and far between, couple the fact that it was early into the morning and a real thaumatist's power rose with the sun Vincenti began to worry that he was not long for this body. It was taking more and more of his concentration to keep his organs from touching the blade.
"Thaumatist first, cash second." He kept chanting, then added to the list "Get back to Ming to tell him Arthur was on the Wonsoon." With any luck the Wonsoon was still loading and not leaving on the tide. Perhaps there was still time to get someone on board to look after the dwarf. Suddenly his body was racked with pain. He dropped to his knees fighting for breath, tears streaming from his eyes. Not caring about the gems, Vincenti clutched at the knife's hilt and pulled for all he was worth. The knife wouldn't budge. He felt his concentration slip and his lung touched the blade inside, another electric jolt racked his body. Some part of his brain that was still able to have rational thought decided that the blade must have been thaumatically charged, not just the gems. Expensive, but not out of the realms of possibility. He could feel the gems burning his hands where he gripped the knife but was able to remove the blade by a finger span. Almost immediately the pain subsided and he was able to catch his breath.
Continuing down back alleys, he made his way to the closest Thaumaturge he could think of.
-----------------------------------------
Arthur came to with the sounds of shouting, footsteps and a gentle swaying. His wrists and ankles were bound still, too tightly to work loose. He struggled to sit up freeing his head from the burlap sack he was in, then let his eyes adjust to the dim gaslight being produced by wall sconces. Around him, wide golden-eyed Lemur-men were stacking crates and barrels, chittering to each other as they worked. Arthur noted the curved ribs set into the walls and surmised he was on a ship.
"Do any of you have a glass of water you could spare?"
The lemur-men didn't even glance in his direction. Arthur looked over to one, his fur with many more silvery streaks to it than the rest, and who's coveralls were covered in a dark grime. Arthur switched to Lemurian.
"Old man, do you have any water? Wine? Beer? Something to get the taste of copper out of my mouth?"
The old lemur man blinked slowly at him, then brought a small tin cup over. Arthur relished the water and swirled it around his mouth, feeling at least one loose molar.
"Much obliged. What's your name? What ship is this?" The others had finished loading the crates and were filing out, keeping their hopping lope low to avoid hitting the ceiling.
The Lemur-man took the cup from Arthur.
"I am Pardo, this ship is the Wonsoon."
"Wonsoon. Good, pleasure to meet you Pardo. I'm Arthur. I'd shake your hand but..." Aruthur held up his bound wrists and offered a depreciating smile.
"Where are we heading Pardo? South to the Isles? I could use some sun. North? I could stand to buy my lady friends some gems and jewels if you know what I mean. Who can I speak to about getting some better accommodations?" Again, he glanced at his bound wrists.
"The refinery." is all Pardo said, then loped out with the others.
"gods be damned, the refinery?" Arthur muttered. "Vincenti, I hope you've got all this!" At least he was alive.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Vincenti was approaching panic as three of the alleys he'd gone down trying to find shortcuts had been dead ends. The first rays of the sun were prodding the horizon. Orange columns pierced the smog and overwhelmed Vincenti's night vision. Now with tears in his eyes, he staggered from one cobbled stoned alleyway to another. At one point he tumbled headlong into a pile of trash and refuse. Rats and other vermin scurried away thinking him a large predator. Through the tears he glimpsed a half opened Cigar box, coinage glinting.
Looking around and seeing no one, he grasped the box and opened it. Coins and bills glowed softly inside. Hopefully he could pass off the bill's aura as his. There was more than enough money inside to remove the knife, and maybe even enough to fix his eyes so they would work in the daylight too. The point would become moot, however, if he couldn't find a thaumatist in the next ten minutes.
Stumbling out of the alleyway, blinking away the tears and trying to focus, he realized he had reached the Opal district after all. If a thaumatist was to be had, it would be here. Almost instantly a door, four buildings down opened. A woman, dressed in old red and burnt orange silks, with white hair down to her ankles gestured for him to come over.
"Well? I've been expecting you all night. You certainly took your time in getting here. At least you waited until the sun came up. Get in the chair and lets look at this knife problem of yours." She took his box of money.
"Stolen, but not by you. That's something I suppose." She held up a coin so it occluded a glowing white glass ball hanging from the ceiling. THe ball bathed the entire room in an even white light. She clucked through her teeth. Not bad warding work. Not good, and not yours. The runes said you would come with money. The bones said it would be tainted, and the furies simply laughed at a golem coming to seek me out. But who believes the furies most of the time anyway, eh?"
Vincenti cringed. Hopefully she wouldn't report him. His bowler hat fell off as he grimaced and slid onto the chair and reclined back to almost horizontal. While, padded, the leather was cracked and stuffing was falling out. Metal clamps came from the arm rests and secured arms, legs and neck.
She looked at the knife in his chest as it sunk in another fraction of an inch.
"Please hurry." Was all Vicnenti could muster.
"That money pays for quality, not speed." she said. The knife slid in further, another rune triggered and Vincenti arced his back from the pain. The wrist clamps groaned.
"You break my chair I leave the knife in." She said. She tapped just above the knife on his chest. His muscles were so taut it sounded as if he were solid.
"Take...take all the money. P...puh...lease just help me." He mustered between spasms.
"Everyone thinks they can do magicks today. Tell me this golem. Why did the bones say I should help you? I don't normally work on your kind."
"I...duh... I don't know. Hurrrrrrrrrrrr." Vincenti's jaw clamped shut."
"Very well." She closed her eyes for a second, placed her long and jagged finger nail from her little finger under the hilt and in one deft motion yanked the knife out. Instantly Vincenti lost consciousness.
The old woman clucked to herself and held the knife carefully in her nails by tip and hilt. She laid it flat on her desk and rummaged around for a large clay plot.
"You paid for removal, but not for storage. You need to take this with you." She placed the knife in in the jar, spoke a word and the open face of the jar closed. Gently she placed the jar on a table next to the chair.
"You hear me golem? You take the knife with you." she kicked the chair but Vicenti didn't move.
"Bah, golems." She shuffled off to another room.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
When We Left For.....
My journey home was swift. The pounding rain meant the streets were clear and the city was quiet. As my feet lead, my mind began to ponder options. We needed money. Fast. There were a few favors I could call in but was hesitant to do so. I had worked long and hard to get my head above water. To throw it all away and be back at zero? The thought brought an ache to my hart. I rounded the corner onto Rubin Street and ducked into the alley behind The Heated Stone. If not a favor, then we could hire out. I grimaced at the thought and mounted the stairs two at a time up to our rooms. I hated working for someone else. Being your own boss, that the only way to go in my mind. My rules, my way. I hadn't taken orders in over two years and the idea of having to cowtow to some fat bossman made me hit the door hard as I entered our apartment.
Umberto shot out of his chair when he heard me come in. He stood there, all six feet three inches of him, shifting from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together, his face drawn in anguish.
"Where you been Raz?" he asked, his big hands reaching toward me in supplication. I batted them away and pushed past him into the kitchen.
"Thinking Berto. Something you know nothing about." I banged about, setting the pot onto the stove and lighting the gas burner. Once the flame took, I turned to face my half-brother. Umberto was back to his rocking and hand wringing. I felt some of my anger seep away. It wasn't really his fault. It was an accident. Berto was famous for his "accidents". Blaming him didn't get us anywhere. It never did. We needed a plan and that was my specialty. Umberto must have seen something on my face because he stopped rocking and offered me a timid smile.
"You aren't still mad at me? Are you Raz? 'Cause I'm really really sorry. I just thought it was a box, you know? If I had know about the money I'd of never thrown it out. Promise Raz! I dinnit mean nothin' by it, you know?" he stammered.
Berto had our mother's eyes: large, soft and brown. My own were blue. They have been called shifty, squity, and calculating. Doe-like, they are not. Guess I take after my dad in that area, whoever he was. We both shared our mom's brown curly hair with a steak of white right above the left ear. That white streak was how we had found each other. And although Umberto caused me no end of trouble, he was family. All the family I had. With a sigh,, I crossed over to him and patted his forearm.
"It's ok Berto, it's ok. I know it was an accident and I'm not mad. Not anymore, at least. But you understand that we are in trouble now, right? Marco will want his usual payment next week and we don't have the funds to set us right with him now. And that's bad Umberto. Got it?
Berto nodded his head eagerly and smiled down at me. The kettle started to whistle so I headed back into the kitchen, talking over my shoulder.
"We have to make some cash, and fast. The way I see it, we can call in our favors and hope we can squeeze out enough to make it for this month or we need to take a risk." I poured hot water into my battered cup and dropped in a strainer of tea before I continued. "We could hire ourselves out but that would take too long and I don't want to go back to that. Not unless we have to. So that leave, what?" I mused.
I turned back to Umberto whose brow was creased in deep concentration. Just seeing him trying to puzzle this out made me smile. The tip of his tongue stuck between his lips and his shoulders were hunched up almost to his ears. I was tempted to leave him like that all night but we didn't have time.
"Jules," I stated.
Umberto's eyebrows shot up and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he quickly swallowed twice. Then again.
"Sorry my brother, but it's the only hope we've got," I said as I grabbed my mug and took a sip.
"But, Raz," Umberto whinned, "I don't like Jules. She makes me....." He shuddered and frowned.
"Uncomfortable?" I offered.
"Yeah, uncomforted," Umberto replied. "Do we gotta?"
Yes, Berto, we gotta," I said and dumped the rest of my drink in the sink. I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. Umberto followed me slowly, his feet dragging reluctantly. When we left for Jules' that night, I had no idea what lay before us. If I did, I would have found another way, no matter how distasteful, to make our payment. But hindsight, as they say, is clear. That night, as we stepped into the light of the moons, we were blind to the fate that lay before us.
Umberto shot out of his chair when he heard me come in. He stood there, all six feet three inches of him, shifting from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together, his face drawn in anguish.
"Where you been Raz?" he asked, his big hands reaching toward me in supplication. I batted them away and pushed past him into the kitchen.
"Thinking Berto. Something you know nothing about." I banged about, setting the pot onto the stove and lighting the gas burner. Once the flame took, I turned to face my half-brother. Umberto was back to his rocking and hand wringing. I felt some of my anger seep away. It wasn't really his fault. It was an accident. Berto was famous for his "accidents". Blaming him didn't get us anywhere. It never did. We needed a plan and that was my specialty. Umberto must have seen something on my face because he stopped rocking and offered me a timid smile.
"You aren't still mad at me? Are you Raz? 'Cause I'm really really sorry. I just thought it was a box, you know? If I had know about the money I'd of never thrown it out. Promise Raz! I dinnit mean nothin' by it, you know?" he stammered.
Berto had our mother's eyes: large, soft and brown. My own were blue. They have been called shifty, squity, and calculating. Doe-like, they are not. Guess I take after my dad in that area, whoever he was. We both shared our mom's brown curly hair with a steak of white right above the left ear. That white streak was how we had found each other. And although Umberto caused me no end of trouble, he was family. All the family I had. With a sigh,, I crossed over to him and patted his forearm.
"It's ok Berto, it's ok. I know it was an accident and I'm not mad. Not anymore, at least. But you understand that we are in trouble now, right? Marco will want his usual payment next week and we don't have the funds to set us right with him now. And that's bad Umberto. Got it?
Berto nodded his head eagerly and smiled down at me. The kettle started to whistle so I headed back into the kitchen, talking over my shoulder.
"We have to make some cash, and fast. The way I see it, we can call in our favors and hope we can squeeze out enough to make it for this month or we need to take a risk." I poured hot water into my battered cup and dropped in a strainer of tea before I continued. "We could hire ourselves out but that would take too long and I don't want to go back to that. Not unless we have to. So that leave, what?" I mused.
I turned back to Umberto whose brow was creased in deep concentration. Just seeing him trying to puzzle this out made me smile. The tip of his tongue stuck between his lips and his shoulders were hunched up almost to his ears. I was tempted to leave him like that all night but we didn't have time.
"Jules," I stated.
Umberto's eyebrows shot up and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he quickly swallowed twice. Then again.
"Sorry my brother, but it's the only hope we've got," I said as I grabbed my mug and took a sip.
"But, Raz," Umberto whinned, "I don't like Jules. She makes me....." He shuddered and frowned.
"Uncomfortable?" I offered.
"Yeah, uncomforted," Umberto replied. "Do we gotta?"
Yes, Berto, we gotta," I said and dumped the rest of my drink in the sink. I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. Umberto followed me slowly, his feet dragging reluctantly. When we left for Jules' that night, I had no idea what lay before us. If I did, I would have found another way, no matter how distasteful, to make our payment. But hindsight, as they say, is clear. That night, as we stepped into the light of the moons, we were blind to the fate that lay before us.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Stopping to look in a window.
Vincenti had been told to stay back and observe from a distance, if things got hot, call the Muzo brothers, but above all, stay low and out of sight. A lukewarm rain was drenching everything as it came in off the bay in clinging oily sheets.
Arthur was walking as fast as he could to keep up with the suited goons who were "escorting" him, his short little legs an almost comical flurry of movement.
Vincenti stopped to look in a window, making a play to look like he was merely window shopping. He had to be sure to stay far enough back not to be spotted. Granted, with the rain this hard, everyone's eyes were down, hands on hats trying to stay dry. But, on the other hand, no one was window shopping right now either. Half a block back, Vincenti half caught a look that turned his blood to ice. Someone was tailing him, tailing Arthur, and by the look of things he'd been made.
Vincenti fingered the gem in his pocket, debating whether or not to call for help now even though he wasn't sure yet where the goons were taking Arthur.
"Fortune favors the bold my friend." Vincenti said to no one in particular and made his way to the shadows across the street, letting Arthur out of his sight for a second and taking a calculated risk to verify if he was or was not being followed.
He bolted through horses and oxen across the street from one flickering pool of lamp light to another one caddy corner away and pretended to dart from awning to the next.
Had it been his imagination? Had the man in the bowler hat half a block back really made eye contact with him then look away?
Vincenti cursed as he had lost track of Arthur. The rain coming down was thick enough to obscure details more than a block away.
Which way had they gone? Where was the man in the bowler hat?
Traffic had let up only slightly, Vincenti was frantically searching for the two big figures escorting Arthur. The skies lit up white, then bluish green as lightning arced across the clouds. It was enough to spot the trio again, and with that he was off. They were definitely heading to the Trident, although he was pretty sure of that before now anyway.
-------------------------------------------------
"I can tell this is going to be one of those trips, you being the strong silent types and all, but isn't there any way I could convince you to hail us a ride of some sort?"
The two thugs didn't even look at him as they continued marching Arthur down the sidewalks. He risked a sidelong glance to see if Vincenti was still following them. His heart quickened as he realized Vincenti was nowhere to be seen. They were walking quickly although Arthur wasn't sure if it was for the comfort of the goons to get out of the rain or merely because they were running late. All he knew was that his legs and knees were aching horribly. Arthur had been bred for many things, walking any sort of distance wasn't one of them.
"Are we going to the Trident? If so, I implore that if you or your bosses need me in any sort of speaking facility I need to be dry and..."
The goons had stopped in front of a set of stairs heading down below the level of the walkway. The first goon went down the stairs without a word.
"So we're not going to the Trident eh?"
Arthur was more body checked than escorted down the the stairs. He missed the first two steps, landing painfully on his right ankle on the 3rd and grasped for a handrail that was not there. A large hand grabbed the back of his coat, righting him then made sure he knew his only direction was down the stairs.
He limped down the stairs into murky water that was shin deep, just as the first goon was opening a door with a large anchor drawn on it. Inside, in candle lit gloom was a long oak bar, a smoke stained mirror taking up most of the wall behind it. Gas sconces sputtered a blue tinge to the scene.
The bar was empty save for the bartender, mop and bucket in hand trying to get water from the floor into a drain. There couldn't have been as much water in the stairwell heading down to this door as there was actually in the bar. The entire floor had 2-3 inches of water covering it and by the sweat on the forehead of the bartender, Arthur guessed he had been at this for hours.
The goons went through the bar to the back room without so much as even looking at the bartender, and to the bartender's credit aside from the quick glance up when the door had opened, he was now conspicuously focused on his mopping.
It was at that heartbeat skipping moment Arthur realized exactly how much trouble he was in.
--------------------------------------------------------
Vincenti crept towards the stairwell. The man in the bowler hat hadn't reappeared, but nonetheless Vincenti wasn't taking any chances. The rain had begun to let up, leaving a rainbow stain on everything even in weak, cloud-filtered moonslight.
There didn't seem to be enough activity coming from the bar to go in, unnoticed so he hesitated at the top of the stairs. Suddenly his vision went white as a deafening thump and a splitting pain invaded his consciousness.
---------------------------------------------------------
Vincenti awoke under a heap of greasy went trash. An export pipe sent a steady stream of offal onto him. Salty air coming off the bay implied proximity to the Bay and the wharfs.
Something scuttled out of his mouth and down his neck. His left ear was ringing and as he pushed hair out of his eyes he noticed his fingers came back covered in blood.
He had a clear view of the now cleared sky. Fullo shining full and bright lighting up the docks in a gray ghost light. Little Fulla and Fora were no longer next to Fullo, which means he must have been out for at least two hours. Cursing he went for the panic gem in his pocket. Gone. His wallet, papers, everything were gone. It was as he tried to stand up he felt the sharp pain from his ribs. Clearing off detritus and a myriad of scurrying things on and in his clothes, he saw the knife hilt glint in the darkness, just to the left of his sternum.
There was a commotion from up ahead. The goons were back, on a nearby dock with a third member of their silent trio, and they had a burlap sack wrapped in a thick black blanket. Something was struggling in the bag and Vincenti prayed it wasn't Arthur. The party was heading to a boat, Vincenti made note of the name: Wonsoon.
Movement caught his eye. Someone else was watching the trio. The mystery visitor skulked off into the darkness.
Vincenti decided to cut his losses and report back. This was not going to go well.
Arthur was walking as fast as he could to keep up with the suited goons who were "escorting" him, his short little legs an almost comical flurry of movement.
Vincenti stopped to look in a window, making a play to look like he was merely window shopping. He had to be sure to stay far enough back not to be spotted. Granted, with the rain this hard, everyone's eyes were down, hands on hats trying to stay dry. But, on the other hand, no one was window shopping right now either. Half a block back, Vincenti half caught a look that turned his blood to ice. Someone was tailing him, tailing Arthur, and by the look of things he'd been made.
Vincenti fingered the gem in his pocket, debating whether or not to call for help now even though he wasn't sure yet where the goons were taking Arthur.
"Fortune favors the bold my friend." Vincenti said to no one in particular and made his way to the shadows across the street, letting Arthur out of his sight for a second and taking a calculated risk to verify if he was or was not being followed.
He bolted through horses and oxen across the street from one flickering pool of lamp light to another one caddy corner away and pretended to dart from awning to the next.
Had it been his imagination? Had the man in the bowler hat half a block back really made eye contact with him then look away?
Vincenti cursed as he had lost track of Arthur. The rain coming down was thick enough to obscure details more than a block away.
Which way had they gone? Where was the man in the bowler hat?
Traffic had let up only slightly, Vincenti was frantically searching for the two big figures escorting Arthur. The skies lit up white, then bluish green as lightning arced across the clouds. It was enough to spot the trio again, and with that he was off. They were definitely heading to the Trident, although he was pretty sure of that before now anyway.
-------------------------------------------------
"I can tell this is going to be one of those trips, you being the strong silent types and all, but isn't there any way I could convince you to hail us a ride of some sort?"
The two thugs didn't even look at him as they continued marching Arthur down the sidewalks. He risked a sidelong glance to see if Vincenti was still following them. His heart quickened as he realized Vincenti was nowhere to be seen. They were walking quickly although Arthur wasn't sure if it was for the comfort of the goons to get out of the rain or merely because they were running late. All he knew was that his legs and knees were aching horribly. Arthur had been bred for many things, walking any sort of distance wasn't one of them.
"Are we going to the Trident? If so, I implore that if you or your bosses need me in any sort of speaking facility I need to be dry and..."
The goons had stopped in front of a set of stairs heading down below the level of the walkway. The first goon went down the stairs without a word.
"So we're not going to the Trident eh?"
Arthur was more body checked than escorted down the the stairs. He missed the first two steps, landing painfully on his right ankle on the 3rd and grasped for a handrail that was not there. A large hand grabbed the back of his coat, righting him then made sure he knew his only direction was down the stairs.
He limped down the stairs into murky water that was shin deep, just as the first goon was opening a door with a large anchor drawn on it. Inside, in candle lit gloom was a long oak bar, a smoke stained mirror taking up most of the wall behind it. Gas sconces sputtered a blue tinge to the scene.
The bar was empty save for the bartender, mop and bucket in hand trying to get water from the floor into a drain. There couldn't have been as much water in the stairwell heading down to this door as there was actually in the bar. The entire floor had 2-3 inches of water covering it and by the sweat on the forehead of the bartender, Arthur guessed he had been at this for hours.
The goons went through the bar to the back room without so much as even looking at the bartender, and to the bartender's credit aside from the quick glance up when the door had opened, he was now conspicuously focused on his mopping.
It was at that heartbeat skipping moment Arthur realized exactly how much trouble he was in.
--------------------------------------------------------
Vincenti crept towards the stairwell. The man in the bowler hat hadn't reappeared, but nonetheless Vincenti wasn't taking any chances. The rain had begun to let up, leaving a rainbow stain on everything even in weak, cloud-filtered moonslight.
There didn't seem to be enough activity coming from the bar to go in, unnoticed so he hesitated at the top of the stairs. Suddenly his vision went white as a deafening thump and a splitting pain invaded his consciousness.
---------------------------------------------------------
Vincenti awoke under a heap of greasy went trash. An export pipe sent a steady stream of offal onto him. Salty air coming off the bay implied proximity to the Bay and the wharfs.
Something scuttled out of his mouth and down his neck. His left ear was ringing and as he pushed hair out of his eyes he noticed his fingers came back covered in blood.
He had a clear view of the now cleared sky. Fullo shining full and bright lighting up the docks in a gray ghost light. Little Fulla and Fora were no longer next to Fullo, which means he must have been out for at least two hours. Cursing he went for the panic gem in his pocket. Gone. His wallet, papers, everything were gone. It was as he tried to stand up he felt the sharp pain from his ribs. Clearing off detritus and a myriad of scurrying things on and in his clothes, he saw the knife hilt glint in the darkness, just to the left of his sternum.
There was a commotion from up ahead. The goons were back, on a nearby dock with a third member of their silent trio, and they had a burlap sack wrapped in a thick black blanket. Something was struggling in the bag and Vincenti prayed it wasn't Arthur. The party was heading to a boat, Vincenti made note of the name: Wonsoon.
Movement caught his eye. Someone else was watching the trio. The mystery visitor skulked off into the darkness.
Vincenti decided to cut his losses and report back. This was not going to go well.
Monday, November 7, 2011
In search of impossible light
The last piece of the diamond carapace slid into place silently. The vacuum of space being step one of the seal. Step two was molecular sized robots working on the atomic scale, weaving the new piece to the main body so seamlessly that, when all was done the capsule would be gas tight.
"That's it. This one's all done. Stage two, do you copy?" Leander said.
"We copy L. Our board just lit up green all across. 43 minutes until the seam closes. Why don't you head on in and grab a bottle of coffee. The insertion clock just went on for T-90 minutes."
"Roger that control. Heading in."
Leander unbuckled his suit from the diamond rings that studded various parts of the capsule and marveled at the scene. The diamond capsule was as long 400 meters long, by 100 wide and 100 thick, although the thickness belied what was actually inside. The capsule was merely a shell 3 meters thick containing the vacuum of space.
The purpose of the capsule was going to be one of several "floats" to buoy MB1 within the Jovian atmosphere. 15 of these dirigibles had already been constructed, and Leander's was overseeing the 16th and final. All that remained was to start up the rockets, move this behemoth into position and attach it to the rest of the flotilla.
2 kilometers away Leander could see the rest of the waiting flotilla already lashed together with the diamond braid that linked the zeppelins. The habitat, once constructed, would hang underneath the flotilla circulating around the gas giant mining helium3 and constructing other versions of itself for research and other mining operations.
Leander was excited about the habitat. After the 8 months it took to get into orbit around Jupiter and another year and a half extracting the minerals that Io spewed into space from its volcanoes to build the flotilla the habitat would seem palatial. Phase one of the habitat had the 43 of them living in a space the size of a 20 story office building. Electricity would be generated by the myriad of wind turbines studding the outside of the habitat. There would even be a pressurized dome at the top and bottom of the habitat where one could marvel at Jupiter in all her glory.
From they could finally be a real hub not leaching off of their neighbors and make the entire Jovian system self sustaining. They would be trading electricity and heavy metals for water from Europa, volatiles from Callisto and send further surveying teams to Ganymede and Io.
Leander was in on the ground floor and he could see his stock options piling up during his seven year contract away from home.
"Control to L."
"Leander here, what's up?"
"Phase your helmet. You're in the path of reflection as the other team moves the flotilla."
"Copy that control, thanks for the heads up."
Leander typed a command into his wrist plate and most of his view winked out as gold filters came down over his visor. Stars disappeared and Jupiter itself became a dim blur. He watched as the concave flotilla began a slow arc and reflected the sun's weak rays in a direction towards the planet. His shuttle lit up brightly for a second then returned to its ghostly gray.
The beam reached the disk of the planet and began a slow drag across one of the cloud layers. Leander zoomed in on where the light hit the planet and tapped the code for autopilot back to the shuttle. He still had 10-11 minutes of down time before he reattached to the ship.
The roiling clouds fascinated him. He would zoom on a section in his room and watch the colors change like a thick oil painting mixing.
The reflection made him do a double take. Something had glinted in the cloud layer. The beam from the flotilla was moving across the surface of Jupiter at hundreds of kilometers per hour but something had lit up under the clouds.
"Control did you just see that?"
"We did."
"You think it was the test habitat that we lost?"
"Negative. Test habitat was lost near the north pole. That was 20 degrees south of the equator."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Any chance of getting the flotilla crew to spin the other direction and see if we could get it lit up again?"
"L, this is Cooper over at the flotilla, we're way ahead of you. Just waiting on clearance from ground control to delay insertion of your capsule."
"Ugh, that's 20 minutes from now!"
"Just c'mon back inside L, we'll clear a space up here for you."
No sooner had orbit control radioed him when the upper cloud layer flickered to life. Leander's jaw went slack. The dark side of Jupiter was full of lightning. Flashes were nothing new. Lighting bolts that, on earth, would stretch from New York to Chicago were old hat for the crew.
The light emanating from a small puff of white clouds in among a darker red area was simply turning on, then off, on, then off, in a time that that Leander could almost set his watch to.
Leander zoomed in his helmet cam and punched the code to record the feed.
"Control, please tell me you're getting this."
"That's it. This one's all done. Stage two, do you copy?" Leander said.
"We copy L. Our board just lit up green all across. 43 minutes until the seam closes. Why don't you head on in and grab a bottle of coffee. The insertion clock just went on for T-90 minutes."
"Roger that control. Heading in."
Leander unbuckled his suit from the diamond rings that studded various parts of the capsule and marveled at the scene. The diamond capsule was as long 400 meters long, by 100 wide and 100 thick, although the thickness belied what was actually inside. The capsule was merely a shell 3 meters thick containing the vacuum of space.
The purpose of the capsule was going to be one of several "floats" to buoy MB1 within the Jovian atmosphere. 15 of these dirigibles had already been constructed, and Leander's was overseeing the 16th and final. All that remained was to start up the rockets, move this behemoth into position and attach it to the rest of the flotilla.
2 kilometers away Leander could see the rest of the waiting flotilla already lashed together with the diamond braid that linked the zeppelins. The habitat, once constructed, would hang underneath the flotilla circulating around the gas giant mining helium3 and constructing other versions of itself for research and other mining operations.
Leander was excited about the habitat. After the 8 months it took to get into orbit around Jupiter and another year and a half extracting the minerals that Io spewed into space from its volcanoes to build the flotilla the habitat would seem palatial. Phase one of the habitat had the 43 of them living in a space the size of a 20 story office building. Electricity would be generated by the myriad of wind turbines studding the outside of the habitat. There would even be a pressurized dome at the top and bottom of the habitat where one could marvel at Jupiter in all her glory.
From they could finally be a real hub not leaching off of their neighbors and make the entire Jovian system self sustaining. They would be trading electricity and heavy metals for water from Europa, volatiles from Callisto and send further surveying teams to Ganymede and Io.
Leander was in on the ground floor and he could see his stock options piling up during his seven year contract away from home.
"Control to L."
"Leander here, what's up?"
"Phase your helmet. You're in the path of reflection as the other team moves the flotilla."
"Copy that control, thanks for the heads up."
Leander typed a command into his wrist plate and most of his view winked out as gold filters came down over his visor. Stars disappeared and Jupiter itself became a dim blur. He watched as the concave flotilla began a slow arc and reflected the sun's weak rays in a direction towards the planet. His shuttle lit up brightly for a second then returned to its ghostly gray.
The beam reached the disk of the planet and began a slow drag across one of the cloud layers. Leander zoomed in on where the light hit the planet and tapped the code for autopilot back to the shuttle. He still had 10-11 minutes of down time before he reattached to the ship.
The roiling clouds fascinated him. He would zoom on a section in his room and watch the colors change like a thick oil painting mixing.
The reflection made him do a double take. Something had glinted in the cloud layer. The beam from the flotilla was moving across the surface of Jupiter at hundreds of kilometers per hour but something had lit up under the clouds.
"Control did you just see that?"
"We did."
"You think it was the test habitat that we lost?"
"Negative. Test habitat was lost near the north pole. That was 20 degrees south of the equator."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Any chance of getting the flotilla crew to spin the other direction and see if we could get it lit up again?"
"L, this is Cooper over at the flotilla, we're way ahead of you. Just waiting on clearance from ground control to delay insertion of your capsule."
"Ugh, that's 20 minutes from now!"
"Just c'mon back inside L, we'll clear a space up here for you."
No sooner had orbit control radioed him when the upper cloud layer flickered to life. Leander's jaw went slack. The dark side of Jupiter was full of lightning. Flashes were nothing new. Lighting bolts that, on earth, would stretch from New York to Chicago were old hat for the crew.
The light emanating from a small puff of white clouds in among a darker red area was simply turning on, then off, on, then off, in a time that that Leander could almost set his watch to.
Leander zoomed in his helmet cam and punched the code to record the feed.
"Control, please tell me you're getting this."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)