Fenrir: Chapter 27

[seawasp]

There's lots of prep to do before you go to space...

 

Chapter 27. You Spin Me Round and Round

Days to Launch: 365

     "One year to go," Stephanie murmured, staring at Carpathia.

     The immense interplanetary vessel was taking real shape now. Atop the squashed, broad curve of the football-field sized pusher plate, eight shock absorbers as large as ancient redwoods were fastened to the precast gigantic eyelets; monstrous springs could be seen below the main body, inside the circle of the shocks, along with the lower portions of the main ICAN-II derived drive units – four of them spaced evenly around the ship. The barrellike main hull was still in the process of assembly, with the interior cylinder of the primary living quarters and workspace visible, designed to rotate within the main hull.

     Small ridges now covered the pusher plate, some associated with various sensors, others part of the electrostatic oil sprayer system that made it possible to detonate hundreds of nuclear charges within scant meters of the pusher plate and yet leave it intact. Before launch, the pusher plate would be coated with several millimeters of ablative material, as the electrostatic method wouldn't work well until they were into vacuum. The first few minutes will be the worst.

     That was true in more than one way. Not only would all systems be subjected to their first, and only, real test at that time, but the titanic vessel would have to fight directly against the full pull of gravity, increasing the stress the passengers would have to endure.

     Stephanie looked across from her vantage point on the CENT HQ's roof, to see another broad, squat building. That was the site of one of the few tests that everyone – civilian scientists and military officers alike – absolutely had to pass to remain on board: the centrifuge that would simulate the three g's passengers would experience on launch for several minutes.

     Not looking forward to that, she admitted. She had been on roller coasters that exceeded that, of course, but this would be sustained 3-g acceleration, like having two more Stephanies lying on top of her for minutes. And of course she was the first to take the qualifying test, now that they'd certified the test centrifuge.

     And then there's the Vomit Comet. Since there was no such thing as antigravity, the only way to experience significant periods of microgravity remained the old standby of taking a jet up and letting it perform multiple parabolic arcs, each one providing about twenty-five seconds of effective weightlessness. Everyone would have to undergo that, too.

     That was why she was here, psyching herself up to take the two critical physical tests. I'm on the crew list, I'm first on the crew list… and I could be first to get scratched if I can't handle it.

     "Director?"

     She turned, startled. "Captain."

     Hàorán Lín sketched a bow. "You seemed concerned at today's meeting." He looked out – first at the towering form of Carpathia, then down at the test facility. "Ah. Yes, we have all received our testing notices."

     "You've been in jets on maneuvers before, haven't you?"

     "As a passenger, yes. My first officer, Mr. Robinson, he is a pilot. I have no fears on his account." He looked slightly down at her, eyes sharp. "But you are worried that you will not pass."

     "Everyone assumes I'll be on board by now. Not captain, but… well, head of the civilian researchers. If I wash out on this, it would be just embarrassing. To me and by proxy to a lot of other people."

     "Director – Stephanie, if I may?" She nodded. "Stephanie, not everyone can tolerate acceleration, or microgravity. It is not a failing, it is a fact. But," Hàorán Lín raised a finger, "it is a fact partly under your control. Being afraid, for yourself or merely the honor of others, will make you tense, make it harder to endure the testing."

     She tried not to roll her eyes. "I know that, Captain Lín. But knowing it doesn't suddenly make the problem go away."

     "True enough. If we humans could direct our emotions to our will so casually, so many of our problems would not exist."

     "I'm trying to think of it as a couple of extreme park rides. I enjoy things like coasters and rotors and so on."

     His smile was small but honest. "A good step, I would say. And ask yourself: what is the worst that happens in these tests?"

     "I screw them both up and can't ride Carpathia," she said, fighting off the anticipatory wash of depression.

     "Yes, that is true. But you will not stop being Director. You will not lose the fame of discovery. You will still forever be the one who proved we are not alone." He shrugged. "I will not lie to you; it would be a cruel blow of fate if you, or for that matter, I were to fail such simple tests and by that be removed from the most important mission the human species has ever attempted. But in all honesty, you stand to lose the least."

     She winced. He's right. If he fails out, it'll be a huge mess – embarrassing for him, for China, cause diplomatic arguments about whether they can choose another candidate, because I know from Jeanne that the captaincy was part of the bargain with China. Me… I'll still be the famous one. Probably get more sympathy than anything else. "Sorry, Hàorán," she said, deliberately using his first name as he'd used hers. "I guess it is self-centered of me to be angsting about it at all."

     This time he laughed. "Meaning no offense, Stephanie, you are young. You are thrown into a ridiculous adventure without warning, an adventure you fight for. It is forgivable that you worry about the greatest part of it being pulled away through no fault of your own. But I thank you for the apology.

     "Now, if it would help… I would be pleased to accompany you to the testing."

     Stephanie blinked. For a moment, she wondered if that could be a pass. Well… maybe. But I don't think so, there's too many problems with that, and Captain Lín has been very professional. I think it's a genuine offer of support. "I'd be very honored by your support, Hàorán. York is supposed to meet me there, but I can always use another friend."

     He returned her smile with a touch of a bow. "Then, if you're ready…?"

     She nodded, and they walked together towards the door to the stairs.

******

     "I'm surprised," Stephanie said, pulling on the white, tight-fitting body stocking dotted with what had to be sensor pads. "I thought there'd be just tons of wires coming off me."

     "Not for this baby," said Monica Pratt, hooking a flat beige pack to the hip of the oversuit before offering it to Stephanie. "Just the one wire to get power and signal from the CCU – Central Collection Unit here – to the sensors and back."

     Pratt made sure that one connection was secure and checked signals. "You're good to go, Director," she said. "Sit down in the big seat and we'll get you strapped in right for the test."

     The centrifuge was basically the same as others Stephanie had seen pictures of – a long counterweighted rotor in a smooth, circular white room. As she understood it, this one was a bit longer to allow for 3G accelerations without too many RPM effects – the human body noticed the circular acceleration more and more as rotational speed increased. That was why the Carpathia, as well as similar fictional ships, had a very broad rotating section; in fact, Carpathia's overall diameter was noticeably smaller than the recommended radius for a comfortable 1-g environment, which was another reason why everyone had to pass these tests.

     The main difference is that there were no internal controls or other devices besides monitors. It was a simple white, rounded cube with a large window in the front allowing her to look across at a target visible on the counterweight opposite her. Allows a stable point of reference for people getting vertigo, she thought.

     "There we go," Pratt said finally. "All strapped in. Verify all safety and data connections functional, Ops?"

     "Verified," came a voice from the speakers a moment later. "We show all green."

     "All right! See you on the other side, Director!" Pratt gave a quick smile and trotted out of the centrifuge, closing and sealing the big door behind her.

     Looking around with the minimal motion her restraints allowed, Stephanie saw both Hàorán Lín and York Dobyns standing together at one of the large, triple-layered safety windows located high up, well above the axis of rotation. They both waved, and the Captain gave her a thumbs-up.

     "You hear me, Director?" came the voice of Ops in the headphones that were a part of the test suit.

     "Yes. Do you hear me?"

     "Loud and clear, Director. During the test, I'm going to ask you to answer various questions, or to do particular movements. This is to see how clearly you're thinking and reacting under acceleration. To allow safety margin for the actual mission, everyone will be tested to a maximum acceleration of four gees, though we won't sustain that very long. If we see any significant abnormalities in biological parameters or your responses during the test, we'll shut down immediately.

     "You can also abort the test at any time by pulling on the red handles mounted on either side of the seat. They're positioned so you should be able to reach them by sliding your hand to grip them. You can also verbally abort the test by saying 'abort, abort'. Understood?"

     "Understood. If you see anything wrong with my responses or my biofunctions, you'll abort, and I have both a physical and verbal means to abort available. The physical one is either of these red handles," she touched the handgrips, "and the other is to simply say 'abort, abort'."

     "You got it, Director. First we'll take you up to one lateral gee, make sure everything's stable, then we'll do two minutes at two gees, five minutes at three, one minute at four, and then spin you down. All goes well, we should be done in fifteen minutes or a bit less. Understood?"

     "Understood."

     "Roger that. Standby for test start." A pause. "Test Carpathia crew 001a, Director Stephanie Bronson, commencing."

     The entire structure hummed as powerful motors began to turn the massive rotor, and Stephanie watched as the white walls streamed by, punctuated by the windows above. The acceleration pressed her back into the seat, until it felt as though she were lying down in a fully-tilted recliner.

     "One gee," Ops said. "Director, how do you feel?"

     She found herself relaxing. This wasn't so bad. "Like I'm in the most expensive Laz-E-Boy ever."

     A chuckle from Ops. "Well, all your signs show green, so get ready for your twin to hop into the seat with you. Accelerating to two gees."

     The background was starting to whip by at a dizzying rate, so Stephanie refocused herself on the red-and-black target across from her. It was reassuringly stable, so it felt more like she was still and the room around her was rotating, standing at the middle of a merry-go-round as it spun out of control. Her body was growing heavier, but it really wasn't like having another person on top; the pressure was perfectly distributed, so it simply felt like being utterly exhausted – having the flu or a similar disease, except none of the mental exhaustion or stomach problems.

     "Raise your right hand and hold it up, Director."

     She did so, and on impulse gave the Vulcan salute.

     "Live long and prosper," Ops responded. "But please don't do anything we don't ask for, ma'am. We want to track exact responses."

     "Understood," she said, with a bit of effort. Her chest felt as though she was wearing a lead comforter over it.

     "Count backwards from ten," Ops said, and she complied.

     After a few more simple tests, she heard, "All responses good, accelerating to three gees."

     "Whee!" she said, breathlessly, as the rotor sped up once more, and suddenly realized she was actually having fun.

     Three gees wasn't entirely fun – the lead comforter had turned to full-scale lead weights on every part of her, and now Ops started asking other questions. "What is fifteen percent of thirty?"  "Raise both hands, clap three times, put down your left hand and then your right hand." "What was the IR magnitude of Fenrir when you first discovered it?" "Read from the eye chart displayed on the screen in front of you," as bright white letters appeared on the previously transparent window.

     It was getting hard to breathe as this test went on, a deliberate effort to force air into her lungs that was starting to make her chest ache. It's been five minutes already, hasn't it?

     "Passing two minutes thirty seconds of three gees," Ops said, almost as though they'd heard her thoughts. "How are you feeling, Director?"

     "Thought… more time… had passed. Getting harder… to breathe."

     "Everyone goes through the same thing. Trust us, we're watching the clock carefully. Got a few more questions for you…"

     At last, Ops said, "Five minutes, all nominal. Progressing to four gees."

     This time she saved her breath for breathing as the force of acceleration crushed down on her. A touch of red haze was in her vision, a feeling of dizzy distance rose up. Then Ops, asking her to add two four-digit numbers, explain refractive index, tap out a specific beat with her fingers. The questions and answers dragged. Surely she'd been doing this for two minutes, three? Shouldn't this be slowing down?

     But she forced those doubts out of her mind. People were watching, they wouldn't let anything go wrong. A quick logical check of timing showed her all those questions and answers could have been done in thirty seconds.

     "One minute complete," Ops said. "How do you feel, Director?"

     "Just… peachy," she answered.

     "So shall we go to five?"

     "I probably could… but I think I'd rather not."

     A laugh. "Reducing acceleration, returning to zero. Stand by."

     The feeling of oppressive weight, of her own body crushing her down, faded away, leaving her feeling startlingly light. Finally, the rotor stopped, and a moment later Ops said, "Test Carpathia crew 001a complete. Technician, help unstrap the Director."

     A few minutes later, she stepped out into a bearhug from York. "I guess I passed?"

     "With, as you say, flying colors," Hàorán Lín said. "I heard you enjoying yourself, Director," he went on, with an exaggerated critical frown.

     She laughed, feeling one set of tensions fading away. "Yes, I'm afraid you did."

     "One test down," said York. "Just one to go."

     "Not looking forward to that," she confessed. "I mean, weightlessness sounds fine, but there's a high chance I'll get sick, and then –"

     "And then we work on that, if must be," Hàorán said bluntly. "Yes, many people have that problem, but we have good success at fixing it."

     "He's right," York affirmed. "We've got Bárány chairs and other techniques that add up to close to a ninety percent rate of success."

     "So let's celebrate your success, Director," the Captain said. "It looks very much like you'll be going to space with us!"

 

 


Well, at least one hurdle cleared...