W. Steve Wilson

Episode Four: Critical Repairs

Episode Three: Scarce Resources

The crew makes the needed changes to the fuel system. As the deadline to transition to Europa nears, the crew pumps filtered sewage into the nuke’s fuel tanks. The big nuke stalls at the last minute—the Marius is stuck.

The Space Cruiser USS Marius, CS-1

In Transit from Io to Europa

August 2056

Dammit. I hit the kill switch and scrammed the nuke for the second time in a week. Sure, it shut down the rocket and saved a meltdown of the uranium rods, but it was an emergency measure, not meant to be used too often. What the hell happened?

The captain spun around to the chief with that question unspoken—eyes narrowed, his lips a thin, taut line.

Chief Jemison glanced away from her controls to answer before he asked. “No fuel to the engine. The main regulator didn’t open. I could blame it on Fuentes’ crappy fuel, but that’s not it.”

Captain Bullard could have cursed, but that wasn’t his way. He settled for a calmer approach. “Do what you need to do, Chief, but we’ve got to get moving. Every minute adds to the burn time, and you know we’re short on fuel.”

“The emergency engineering crews that were suited up and on-call are leaving the airlock now. Heading to the regulator housing.” The chief paused and listened, her hand to her earbud. “Confirmed. Standby, I’ll send her out.” The chief turned to the captain. “Sir, they need Celeste—er, Ms. Watson. She reprogrammed the regulator to handle the thicker fuel. The crew isn’t sure of the settings and can’t get it reset.”

The captain turned to me. “Suit up, Watson. And be quick about it. Urgent hardly describes the situation.”

###

Exiting the bridge, I rushed through the ship. I zoomed straight down the main tunnel, barely touching the handholds, to the suit room at the back near the engines. I was in a hurry, but the techs helping me put on the extra-vehicular activity suit made sure I completed all the safety checks. Everyone on board knew you didn’t want to skip something critical for an EVA—space was unforgiving.

I’d been going through the changes to the code in my head since I’d left the bridge. I was pretty sure they were right. I’d tested them more than once, but was starting to worry that I’d missed something. Anxiety was kicking in big time. I’d broken out in a sweat and my suit sure felt too warm.

I cycled through the airlock, connected my safety tether, and rocketed over to the crew at the regulator housing. “Got here as fast as I could. What’s wrong?”

The crew chief spun around. “Watson. Dammit. What the hell did you do to the codes? The fuel regulator is refusing the ignition command. The fault code says the fuel viscosity is too high. I thought you fixed that. And your reset instructions are gibberish.”

“They’re not gibberish. Let me see that.” I grabbed his tablet and scanned the reset codes. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. He was right. I’d missed adding the viscosity override file to the recoded command line at C:\MariusAI\Vicosity>python override.py. Crap. Crap. Crap. “I am so sorry. I added the override file to my command console but didn’t push it to the regulator panel.” My fingers flashed across the tablet. “There, I fixed it.” I handed the crew chief back his tablet, suffered his scowl, visible even through his helmet faceplate, and got out of his way.

He checked the code changes. I wanted to yell ‘we don’t have time, the clock’s ticking’, but I’d already screwed up. Better to check. I can’t believe I forgot that last step. I’ve been so tired lately, cranky even, nauseous every day from the lingering effects of my last trip outside that almost killed me.

He spun around, entered the command codes with sharp, irritated punches of his gloved fingers, and hit the reset button. The indicators flashed green. Through my magnetic boots holding me to the ship, I could feel the rumble of the regulator starting up, and we were back in business.

The crew chief turned on me. “Lucky for you, Watson, you fixed it on the first try. Still your mistake, though. I guess you’re not as good as you tell everyone. Maybe you should have someone check your work from now on. You may have cost us getting to Europa. I just hope your boyfriend pumped some extra crap.”

Without another word, he turned towards the airlock and motioned the team to follow. I trailed behind. I could feel the flush crawling up my cheeks. And why was this suit so damn hot?

We reported the fix to the bridge, but the trip back to the airlock was tense and quiet. Nothing to celebrate, no kudos for fixing my own blunder. I broke out in a cold sweat and failed to fight back the tears, humiliated that I’d delayed our departure and put the emergency team at risk.

Once we were inside, the captain announced the restart of the countdown. We belted ourselves into the jump seats in the airlock, still suited up.

From the wall speaker came the captain’s announcement. “All hands to stations. Full thrust in five-four-three-two-one—ignition.”

The big nuke fired, the rocket’s thrust pressed us against our restraints, and we were off.

For real, this time.

###

Martian Colony at Lyot

Region North of Deuteronilus Mensae, Mars

August 2056

General Mavis Buckley stood from behind her nondescript Space Force desk, buzzed her office hatch open, and motioned the military and InterSol agents in. The combined team of twelve agents was her joint task force, but she’d not worked with the InterSol agents previously.

“Agents, I want weapons holstered. No excessive force. We’re executing a search and seizure warrant, and that’s all. No arrests. If any of the SS&T employees become confrontational, escort them out, but safely. Am I clear?” Nods all around told her they’d heard the message. She had hoped Fuentes and Yazzie would be there to keep everyone calm, but they were on the orbiting facility executing the same search and seizure warrant for the SS&T staff on the station.

The task forces at Mars were two units of a larger force, seizing SS&T assets in orbit around Earth, at the SS&T base on the Moon, and at their corporate offices in Houston. SS&T’s continued violation of resource extraction regulations, missions in contravention of the international treaties, and misuse of government assets led to the joint US and UN action to take control of the rogue elements. Mavis didn’t see it as her role in the US Space Force to interdict bad actors, but orders are orders.

A coded signal chirped in her earpiece that the team in orbit was in position. Mavis responded with a mic click and addressed her team. “Go signal confirmed. Follow-me.”

She exited her office and headed to the SS&T tunnels and a new future with Space Force in charge of the Solar System’s largest space contractor—not a future Mavis thought she’d be having when she started this project over thirty years ago in New Mexico.

###

After two days of coasting, we rotated the ship for the last burn for orbital insertion around Europa. Twelve hours later, we fired the big nuke one last time before we coasted into orbit around Jupiter’s moon. I was on the bridge during the burn, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as we watched the fuel consumption data. It would be close. My screw up had delayed our departure from Io. The math said we’d make it, but there were a ton of assumptions in the calculations. A collective exhale escaped the bridge crew when the engines shut off with no fuel to spare.

We were heading home, so to speak. Europa would be our little piece of the universe for an unknown while.

Fortunately, the engine performed well and only one impeller failed. The engineering crews replaced the impeller during the coast to Europa, just in case we needed the engine again. We ran tests, checked equipment, and found two bent control rods in the nuclear core. The bent rods could have gotten stuck in the pile and the engine would have been useless. We didn’t think we’d need the rocket motor, but replaced the two rods—just to be sure.

No one had said anything about my screw-up, but then nobody had spoken to me at all. People avoided eye contact when passing in the tunnels, moving to the side to not get too close, like I had a disease or something. Even in the gravity wheel, or in engineering where space was tight, people found ways to avoid me. Work conversations were minimal. My work-related text traffic clogged my handheld.

Marco tried to soothe me, told me to let it go, but I knew I’d messed up. And I now found myself staring at Celina’s door. I pressed the entrance chime, and the hatch slid open.

“Celeste. I’m so happy to see you. Come in.”

I couldn’t help it. I stepped inside, reached out, and hugged my sister. No surprise, she hugged me back. And we both started crying. I don’t know why Celina was crying, but it felt good to let go.

Celina gave a last squeeze and held me away to look me in the face. “Sis, it’s OK. What’s wrong? You can tell me.” She let go of my shoulders and held my hands. They were warm and gentle, almost like the moms’ hands.

It crossed my mind that I never told Celina anything. So why now? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I just wanted someone to listen. “C, I messed up. I almost got us stranded out here. Everyone is mad at me, even my friends.” I wandered over to her couch and flopped down. Celina sat next to me and took my hands again. “And I’m tired all the time. I’m not sleeping, sick every day. Hell, even my boobs hurt.”

Celina smiled at that. “Yes, you messed up, and people know it. But they also know you’d do anything for us and the ship. You’ve risked your life to keep us safe.”

“And now I’m going to feel guilty that you’re being so nice to me. I’ve not always been the best sister.”

Celina let go of my hands. “Well, this is a new you. Where did my cocky, self-assured older sister go?”

That made me smile. “She’s been a little beat up lately. I’m not sure I want her back. But I want people to like me again.”

Celina reached out and gave my hands a light squeeze. “It’ll take time, but people will come back. In the meantime, you have our moms and Marco—and you always have me.”

We were interrupted by the wall speaker.

“All hands. This is the captain. We’re executing the final insertion burn of the continuous thrust engines in fifteen minutes. Return to your duty station or your quarters and strap in.”

I stood, hugged my sister, and dashed out of the hatch. I raced around the gravity wheel, passing hurrying crew members going in both directions, climbed a spoke hand over hand to the hub, and parked my butt at the bridge engineering station.

The captain gave me a reassuring nod and started the countdown.

In hours, we’d be in orbit around Europa. It was time to buckle down and get to work.

Stay Tuned for Episode Five: Survival Mode, coming soon to a website near you.