Trouble with the Natives by Karlos Allen	Table of Contents Chapter 1, part 1 appears in this issue.
Chapter 1 part 2 of 2

They turned to look at the young man floating there. “Excuse me, technician Tsao?” Dr Aspen made a show of checking the tech’s badge. “I believe your field is electronic repair, not damage assessment. I suggest you stick to it.” Reeking importance he turned away.

“It was a laser burst. I would say about 10 Megawatts per square centimeter yield. The burst couldn’t have lasted more than a few hundredths of a second. It was a single burst that bathed the entire ship evenly. I don’t think it was natural.”

Dr Aspen was turning to put him in his place, when Singh hastily cut in, “How do you know this Tsao?”

“Before signing on this mission, I served a hitch in the U.S. Space Command. We played around with lasers. Have been since the 1990’s. Every once in a while some general would get the wild idea that we needed to work on them. I think it was usually right after watching on old copy of Star Wars. Anyway, we’d pull them out and dust them off. They make nice holes in metal. At extreme range they can also make a target look like we do now.”

“So... you think somebody shot at us?” Dr Aspen looked around to make sure of his audience. “You are aware that we are in orbit around Jupiter, aren’t you? That the nearest ship is billions of miles away?”

“Yes, Doctor, I know that. I also know laser damage when I see it.”

Before Aspen could go further, Singh jumped in. “OK, maybe it was laser damage. What could have caused that? Obviously it had to be natural. Dr. Aspen is right. There isn’t anybody else here, unless we’re going to start talking aliens.” Nobody seemed ready to consider that. “Alright then, we’ll table that for now. How do we get home? Has there been any thought about that?” He turned to the technical crew.

Nate spoke up. “The electrodynamic tethers were stowed away, so they’re undamaged. The hatch for our quadrant 2 tether is welded shut, but we can fix that. I would like to know, however, whether we can be sure this won’t happen again.”

“We don’t know; there’s insufficient data.”

“I’m not asking for an answer, Doctor. I want to know what we can do to prevent or avoid it.”

“Our orbit is stable, right? Then we at least have time to figure this out. No one goes on EVA until we can guarantee their safety. Beyond that, I would like the tech crew to have a repair plan ready to present tomorrow at lunch.

“In the meantime, we have Mac to think about. I don’t know if she was a believer and I have no idea what she would’ve wanted in the event of her death. If anyone does know, I’d like them to see me in my office this afternoon, because we will spend a few minutes in memorial at dinner. I’ll see all of you then.”

He often wished he had a door to his office. If you could call a cubbyhole off of the main passage an office. He’d rigged a curtain so he could close it when he needed to concentrate, and concentration was what he desperately needed now.

He got about five minutes of it when Nate tapped lightly on the wall and poked his head in. “Doctor? Can I see you a minute?”

“Sure, Nate. You know something about Mac?”

“No, no more than you, I expect. Station-siders are notoriously private. I don’t even know what her real name was.”

“Neither do I. It’s not in the files. I’m not surprised. That’s why I’m hoping somebody knew her well enough to help with the memorial. Somehow a moment of silence just doesn’t fit her.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Doctor Singh, according to the org chart, I’m your second in command. But you and I both know how things have worked out over the last two years. There’s a ‘Science’ crew and a ‘Tech’ crew and we take orders from you.”

“Yes, it’s unfortunate. I think it’s because, except for a few general support techs, virtually all of you have a scientist you report to. Why are you bringing this up?”

“A lot of the science crew have no respect for the techs. How do you feel?”

“Of course I respect the techs. You’re our eyes and ears in the science bays. We wouldn’t-”

Nate held up a hand. “Stop. Don’t give me the standard lip service. Honestly. Do you respect me? Do you respect me enough to listen to me?”

Singh looked at him. “Yes, I do. You’ve never ventured an opinion or decision that didn’t make sense and you’ve always had data to back it up.”

Nate nodded. “All right. Do you respect me enough to listen to somebody else if I ask you to?”

“Yes”

“Good, I want you to listen to Tsao.”

“Tsao? The laser expert?”

“Yes. He said he didn’t think the laser was natural. You kind of blew him off.”

“Nate, there really aren’t any ships besides ours in the Jovian system. I know that.”

“Maybe, but Tsao knows lasers. He knows what it looks like when a weaponized laser hits a target, and he says that’s exactly what hit us. I’m asking you to listen to him.”

“All right, I will.”

Tsao floated in a minute later. The cubby was tight with three people, so they adjourned to the control deck.

“So, Mr. Lee tells me that you are convinced the laser wasn’t natural.”

“Doctor Singh, have you ever heard of a natural laser?”

“Yes, I have, there’s one in the Martian atmosphere. Granted, it’s not strong.”

“I’m sorry, I should have been clearer. Have you ever heard of a naturally occurring laser that could do what happened to us in that short a time?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Neither have I. More importantly I can’t imagine how it could be done, and I built lasers in the military.”

“OK, but you do have to admit that it is still a little far-fetched. Who would be shooting at us? Why? Do you have any positive evidence that it was artificial?”

Tsao looked at Nate and muttered something in Mandarin.

“No, Tsao, I’m not mocking you. You need to be able to convince more than just me. You can imagine what our friend Aspen would say to all this.”

Tsao muttered something else.

“You are probably right. But, we need data. How about this: I will give you access to the sensor data for the hit and for fifteen minutes before that. If you can come up with something, I promise I’ll act on it.”

After Tsao left, Nate turned to him. “You didn’t listen.”

“Nate, what was there to listen to? He said there is no way the laser could have been natural. He may be right. But what can I do with that?”

“If one of the Science crew had said that in their expert opinion a thing was thus-and-so, would you have sent them off to look for hard data? Or would you have trusted their judgment and asked what we should do next?

Singh looked at him. “OK, get him back. I’ll ask him that.”

A minute later Tsao was back in the control room. “Nate pointed out that I should have asked you what you recommend we do if it’s true that someone shot at us. What should we do?”

“Find cover, then look for a way to either communicate or shoot back.” He turned and left.

Nobody entered his ‘office’ by dinner-time, leaving him with the uncomfortable job of trying to figure out how to memorialize a person he barely knew. Everyone was waiting in the storm cellar. It seemed that this was the only place where everyone felt secure. He looked around. “I have a confession to make. I didn’t know Mac very well. I don’t even know her real name. The only memory I really have is of lecturing her over and over about safety during EVAs. A moment of silence doesn’t seem right, but I can’t think of anything else to do. Nothing fits losing a human being, especially when it is senseless and random.”

“Her name was Macaroon.” Deb looked up. “We were roommates in college. Cookies are to station-siders what massive layer cakes are to ground-siders. Macaroons were her mother’s favorite cookie, so they named her after that. Apparently that’s pretty common. Not that it matters, only family and close friends ever get past the nickname. Even official records won’t have the birth name. That won’t be made public till after they die.”

Deb looked around, “That’s it, that’s the station-sider service. A friend or family member says the birth name in public. By hearing it you are all now members of her ‘death family’. Nothing else happens, but it is an honor. Not getting invited to the memorial service station-side is like not getting invited to a union ceremony ground-side. You never get to hear the birth name; because none of you will repeat it in the presence of non-family.”

That evening Singh went to the control room again. He saw Nate and Deb sitting quietly and carefully bumped a wall to warn them. Nate turned around. “Hello, Doctor Singh.”

“Please, just Singh. We’re family now, remember?” He grinned slightly. “Thanks for pulling me out of a tough spot, Deb. I didn’t know how I was going to do that. Funerals are supposed to be a Captain’s job, but somehow I’ve always felt more like the president of a small fractious college than the captain of a ship.”

“That’s OK, Singh. When Macaroon told me her birth name, she explained what it meant and how it had to go. I just never thought I’d have to go through with it.”

“You did fine. Mac would’ve been proud.”

“Macaroon, Doctor. Not using it when you can is a sign of disrespect. I guess I didn’t make that clear. I will tomorrow morning.”

“Nate. I’ve been thinking over what Tsao said, about finding cover. Is there anything nearby that we could hide behind, or in?”

“I’m not sure, Singh. I’ll look and get some recommendations back to you by morning.”

“Don’t worry about that. If you find something that we can get over to without attracting a lot of attention to ourselves, just do it. I don’t mind counter-signing a course correction when someone’s experiments or observations might be screwed up, but when survival is at stake, I’d rather leave the driving to the experts, OK?”

Late that night, he felt a brief kick as the thrusters fired. He waited, holding his breath to see if anything happened. Minutes passed, finally he rolled over, snugged his belt down and went to sleep.

To be continued...

Copyright © 2007 by Karlos Allen