Read Online Asimov's SF, January 2012 by Dell Magazine Authors - Free Book Online
Authors: Dell Magazine Authors
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years old, and though it was smaller and less luminous than the Sun, it threw off flares that were far more intense than anything seen at home. And the eruptions were frequent.
That was, indirectly, the reason it was of particular interest to biologists. Because it was so much cooler than the Sun, the “Goldilocks” zone, where liquid water could exist, was much closer to it, running from thirty-eight to seventy million miles. That brought any potential life-bearing world within range of the flares, where no terrestrial-style life could exist. Groombridge II, Hibachi's World, was right in the center of the zone. It had two moons, a big one and a small one. And, remarkably, it also had tangled jungles and as wide a diversity of animals as existed at home. No deserts or open plains presented themselves. The only land areas that were not overgrown were at the poles. Biologists loved it, and had spent the past five years on the planet trying to figure out how it had happened.
"We have most of the answers now,” Larry told her. “We're at the point where it's just a matter of filling in the blanks.” He floated behind her, holding onto the back of her chair, watching the planet grow gradually larger on the display.
She swung one of the scopes toward the sun. It looked tranquil. Sedate. “Just how serious are the flares?” she asked.
Larry was tall, thin, self-effacing. He was probably in his early thirties, but his hair had already begun to gray at the temples. He spoke in a relaxed, amiable tone. “Pretty severe,” he said. “Fortunately, you normally get some advance warning before the thing goes off, so that gives everybody time to get under cover. But it limits what you can do."
Jake pushed back in his seat. “You wouldn't want to be out walking around in it, I assume."
"Probably not, Jake. I was glad to see they put the extra armor on the Copperhead. I doubt we'll need it, but you never know."
Hutch suppressed a smile. The extra armor lining the ship was for Palomus, a pulsar, where they'd be dropping off supplies in a few weeks. But she said nothing. “How long will you be staying?” she asked. She knew Larry had two young kids.
"Probably a year."
"The vegetation's not green."
"Can't have chlorophyll. Not in this kind of environment."
Had she made the same comment to Eddington, she'd have gotten a detailed explanation, filled with descriptions of protective coatings, energy collection methods, alternative genealogical systems, and who knew what else. Eddington was an oversized guy, big and unwieldy in every sense of the word. He could barely make it through the hatches. He'd been out here before, and he talked constantly about the experience, retelling the same stories.
Isaika Nakamura, the third member of the party, was an engineer. She was middle-aged and bored. She'd come along to inspect, upgrade, or repair—Hutch wasn't sure which—the systems protecting the shelter. She had no apparent interest in the mission itself, and she let everyone know that she was part of the mission because she'd lost a coin toss.
* * * *
They had emerged about eight hours out from Hibachi's World. The passengers slept and read. The ground station was the Erik Acharius Complex, named after the nineteenth century Swedish botanist. Hutch opened a channel. “Acharius,” she said, “this is Copperhead. We have arrived and will enter orbit around midnight your time. How are you doing?"
A burst of static. Then: “We're fine, Copperhead." The voice sounded energetic. It belonged to a young male. “Looking forward to seeing you. Who am I talking to?"
"Priscilla Hutchins."
"Nice to meet you, Priscilla. I'm Ollie Evers. It'll be good to have some company. We don't get many visitors out here."
"How long has it been?"
"Since the last supply ship?"She heard him turn the question over to someone else. Then he was back. “Seven months, Priscilla."
"Well, Ollie,” she said, “the glories of working for the
That was, indirectly, the reason it was of particular interest to biologists. Because it was so much cooler than the Sun, the “Goldilocks” zone, where liquid water could exist, was much closer to it, running from thirty-eight to seventy million miles. That brought any potential life-bearing world within range of the flares, where no terrestrial-style life could exist. Groombridge II, Hibachi's World, was right in the center of the zone. It had two moons, a big one and a small one. And, remarkably, it also had tangled jungles and as wide a diversity of animals as existed at home. No deserts or open plains presented themselves. The only land areas that were not overgrown were at the poles. Biologists loved it, and had spent the past five years on the planet trying to figure out how it had happened.
"We have most of the answers now,” Larry told her. “We're at the point where it's just a matter of filling in the blanks.” He floated behind her, holding onto the back of her chair, watching the planet grow gradually larger on the display.
She swung one of the scopes toward the sun. It looked tranquil. Sedate. “Just how serious are the flares?” she asked.
Larry was tall, thin, self-effacing. He was probably in his early thirties, but his hair had already begun to gray at the temples. He spoke in a relaxed, amiable tone. “Pretty severe,” he said. “Fortunately, you normally get some advance warning before the thing goes off, so that gives everybody time to get under cover. But it limits what you can do."
Jake pushed back in his seat. “You wouldn't want to be out walking around in it, I assume."
"Probably not, Jake. I was glad to see they put the extra armor on the Copperhead. I doubt we'll need it, but you never know."
Hutch suppressed a smile. The extra armor lining the ship was for Palomus, a pulsar, where they'd be dropping off supplies in a few weeks. But she said nothing. “How long will you be staying?” she asked. She knew Larry had two young kids.
"Probably a year."
"The vegetation's not green."
"Can't have chlorophyll. Not in this kind of environment."
Had she made the same comment to Eddington, she'd have gotten a detailed explanation, filled with descriptions of protective coatings, energy collection methods, alternative genealogical systems, and who knew what else. Eddington was an oversized guy, big and unwieldy in every sense of the word. He could barely make it through the hatches. He'd been out here before, and he talked constantly about the experience, retelling the same stories.
Isaika Nakamura, the third member of the party, was an engineer. She was middle-aged and bored. She'd come along to inspect, upgrade, or repair—Hutch wasn't sure which—the systems protecting the shelter. She had no apparent interest in the mission itself, and she let everyone know that she was part of the mission because she'd lost a coin toss.
* * * *
They had emerged about eight hours out from Hibachi's World. The passengers slept and read. The ground station was the Erik Acharius Complex, named after the nineteenth century Swedish botanist. Hutch opened a channel. “Acharius,” she said, “this is Copperhead. We have arrived and will enter orbit around midnight your time. How are you doing?"
A burst of static. Then: “We're fine, Copperhead." The voice sounded energetic. It belonged to a young male. “Looking forward to seeing you. Who am I talking to?"
"Priscilla Hutchins."
"Nice to meet you, Priscilla. I'm Ollie Evers. It'll be good to have some company. We don't get many visitors out here."
"How long has it been?"
"Since the last supply ship?"She heard him turn the question over to someone else. Then he was back. “Seven months, Priscilla."
"Well, Ollie,” she said, “the glories of working for the
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