crazy. Tell us what you know. That’ll be quicker.”
“I know that our bodies are mostly made of proteins, which are made up of chemicals called amino acids, and amino acids are asymmetric molecules. Like gloves.”
“Top of the class. Life on Earth and almost all the thousands of life-bearing worlds we know of uses left-handed amino acids and right-handed sugars, but we’re not certain why.”
“Not just life,” Maria said. “Amino acids in meteorites are biased also, just not so much. It starts with the magnetic fields around black holes.”
Reese did not enjoy being interrupted. “That’s still controversial. The only exceptions I know of are two exoplanets, Toyama and Verdant. Their amino acids are right-handed.”
“And people died on Toyama from breathing the air?” Seth asked.
Reese frowned. “I don’t know about breathing the air, but you certainly couldn’t survive on a Verdant or Toyama diet. Your enzymes wouldn’t fit the molecules, and some optical isomer pairs have very different properties. You’d starve if you weren’t poisoned first.”
“Poison is what I’m wondering about. According to the beacon’s story, the Galactic prospectors died very suddenly. Could they have been poisoned by amino acids with the wrong handedness?”
There was silence while Reese cogitated. Control would refuse to speculate on such questions.
Eventually she said, “I don’t see why isomer poisoning would be speedier than any other. If you go downside here you’re going to be heading into the jaws of death anyway, with your life dependent on maintaining asepsis and avoiding all types of biohazards. Isomers aren’t likely to be any more deadly than microbes or virus particles or allergens or heavy metals or poison gases or of the other things you studied in training. I suspect that radioactive dust may be a problem, because of Cacafuego’s very high density, but you’ll check on that. Optical isomerism is an interesting point, and I shall certainly check the samples for it when you provide some.”
“Thanks,” Seth said. “I hope to try.”
Now he had the ball. Everyone was looking at him.
“Control tells me that you’ve put yourself on a course of anti-narcosis pills,” Jordan prompted, looking grim.
“Yes, sir. Just a precautionary measure. The high partial pressure of nitrogen shouldn’t be a problem in the short term.” The long term would undoubtedly be fatal for all kinds of reasons.
“You’ve been having very mixed success with your simulated landings.”
Of course the captain had been asking Control what Seth had been up to, and probably everyone else had too. But none of them had asked what parameters he had been changing. He knew that much because Control had told him so and, while Control might refuse to answer a question, it would never tell a lie.
“No eye-popping flash of genius,” Seth said. “Just caution.”
“Caution as in two-handed Russian roulette?” Reese said.
Seth ignored that. “The original mission plan called for two descents, with four or five touchdowns on each flight. We have to forget that, because the additional gravity we didn’t expect will gobble up fuel on the ascent and those winds will eat even more. Even for a single touchdown, shuttle fuel will be a concern. Secondly, Control is starting to get a feel for the weather. I need it to forecast calm periods a few hours in advance with reasonable confidence, and in a day or so it should be able to do that. Then I make a fast descent, using power to shed orbital velocity fast. That takes up even more fuel, but gets me down before the weather patterns change.
“So fuel is a major problem. Two flights, with one touchdown apiece, are all we can reasonably hope for. Control’s standard algorithm for a landing simulation presumes a minimum of one hour on the ground and takes weather into consideration when calculating the outcome. It turns out that landing is not the problem. The simulations
“I know that our bodies are mostly made of proteins, which are made up of chemicals called amino acids, and amino acids are asymmetric molecules. Like gloves.”
“Top of the class. Life on Earth and almost all the thousands of life-bearing worlds we know of uses left-handed amino acids and right-handed sugars, but we’re not certain why.”
“Not just life,” Maria said. “Amino acids in meteorites are biased also, just not so much. It starts with the magnetic fields around black holes.”
Reese did not enjoy being interrupted. “That’s still controversial. The only exceptions I know of are two exoplanets, Toyama and Verdant. Their amino acids are right-handed.”
“And people died on Toyama from breathing the air?” Seth asked.
Reese frowned. “I don’t know about breathing the air, but you certainly couldn’t survive on a Verdant or Toyama diet. Your enzymes wouldn’t fit the molecules, and some optical isomer pairs have very different properties. You’d starve if you weren’t poisoned first.”
“Poison is what I’m wondering about. According to the beacon’s story, the Galactic prospectors died very suddenly. Could they have been poisoned by amino acids with the wrong handedness?”
There was silence while Reese cogitated. Control would refuse to speculate on such questions.
Eventually she said, “I don’t see why isomer poisoning would be speedier than any other. If you go downside here you’re going to be heading into the jaws of death anyway, with your life dependent on maintaining asepsis and avoiding all types of biohazards. Isomers aren’t likely to be any more deadly than microbes or virus particles or allergens or heavy metals or poison gases or of the other things you studied in training. I suspect that radioactive dust may be a problem, because of Cacafuego’s very high density, but you’ll check on that. Optical isomerism is an interesting point, and I shall certainly check the samples for it when you provide some.”
“Thanks,” Seth said. “I hope to try.”
Now he had the ball. Everyone was looking at him.
“Control tells me that you’ve put yourself on a course of anti-narcosis pills,” Jordan prompted, looking grim.
“Yes, sir. Just a precautionary measure. The high partial pressure of nitrogen shouldn’t be a problem in the short term.” The long term would undoubtedly be fatal for all kinds of reasons.
“You’ve been having very mixed success with your simulated landings.”
Of course the captain had been asking Control what Seth had been up to, and probably everyone else had too. But none of them had asked what parameters he had been changing. He knew that much because Control had told him so and, while Control might refuse to answer a question, it would never tell a lie.
“No eye-popping flash of genius,” Seth said. “Just caution.”
“Caution as in two-handed Russian roulette?” Reese said.
Seth ignored that. “The original mission plan called for two descents, with four or five touchdowns on each flight. We have to forget that, because the additional gravity we didn’t expect will gobble up fuel on the ascent and those winds will eat even more. Even for a single touchdown, shuttle fuel will be a concern. Secondly, Control is starting to get a feel for the weather. I need it to forecast calm periods a few hours in advance with reasonable confidence, and in a day or so it should be able to do that. Then I make a fast descent, using power to shed orbital velocity fast. That takes up even more fuel, but gets me down before the weather patterns change.
“So fuel is a major problem. Two flights, with one touchdown apiece, are all we can reasonably hope for. Control’s standard algorithm for a landing simulation presumes a minimum of one hour on the ground and takes weather into consideration when calculating the outcome. It turns out that landing is not the problem. The simulations
Similar Books
