It Might as Well be String Theory (book 3 of the hexology in seven parts)

Chapter 15: Io You



“We’re coming up on Jupiter” the pilot called back down the thin corridor. It connected the control booth from the relative safety of the rest of the ship. His voice echoed, as it finally reached the ear of Mandy the ship’s captain. At the moment she was squeezing in to the tight fitting bio suit.

She knew already that they were at their destination, no captain worth the rank wouldn’t. It wasn’t just the pinpoint timing she’d calculated, long before the ship had set off. No ship of the fleet could take to the skies without approval of their flight plan. As vast as space was, no one wanted to come out of hyper space, and find themselves inside another space ship, or worst still inside the planet you were heading to; for planets moved too. But Mandy was also acutely aware of the engine’s melodious hum, as it shifted down dimensions from the super highway of the cosmos, to the humdrum of normal space.

With a click she finally clipped the collar lock on her helmet, leaving the plexi-glass screen slid back, so that only the mesh remained to protect her from the deadly radiation. After all she wanted a word with her crewmate.

Then Mandy floated forward towards the one part of the ship unshielded from cosmic radiation; after all they had to see. And Mandy had a powerful reason for gazing on that yellow orb again. The pilot glanced round, his mesh in place on his suit, and indicated a spot on the surface of the moon they were headed for. “Looks like Prometheus is erupting again.”

“Fine” Mandy passed over the superfluous comment; volcanoes were always erupting on Io. “What’s the R.E.M. count?” studiously the pilot checked the reading, but he knew if they got anywhere close to the three thousand plus level they could encounter here, sirens would be sounding and the automatic shielding would enclose the one weak spot on the ship.

It was kind of ironic Mandy thought, that Jupiter’s magnetosphere; the very thing that protected the planet from this deadly radiation, was actually pushing it in to the path of Io. Like a bully forcing his victim to eat dirt. There wouldn’t even be a mine on Io if it weren’t for the sulphur dioxide. It was cheaper to mine it here than to ship the precious resource out from Earth, that was economics Mandy concluded her chain of thought, as her shipmate read off the R.E.M. count.

“Well get the beacon locked on. We don’t want to be off target when we go blind.” The front shield would put the final seal on the ship, protecting it from the deadly radiation, but effectively turned it in to a speeding bullet aimed at the moon. “Trajectory locked captain, it should be smooth as a feather fall.” The man adjusted the controls as they prepared to abandon the useless front of the ship, for the deceleration couches mid ship.

Even as they clipped themselves in, Mandy listened to the various notes given off by this all cocooning shell that protected them. The hull hummed as it fought the forces being wrought on it, as the very molecules of the shell protecting them complained at the stresses they must endure. And then with a gentle thud they were down.

Mandy turned her stern look towards her confidant. “You’ll look after her for me won’t you?” But the stolid visage he held was like a bond of trust, that Mandy knew she could bank anywhere. “I’ll open up the hatch for you captain” was all he had to say.

Moving with care Mandy undid her bulky suit; it would not be needed inside the protective confines of the complex. And she felt her muscles adjust to the little planetoids pull of gravity. It was near enough to Earth’s own moon’s pull. She was used to that, but their trip here had been adjusted to full Earth gravity, rules were rules. No one wanted muscle-wasted crews arriving at their destination.

As the hatch closed behind her with a satisfying click, Mandy knew her way out was safe. Her trusted crew was the lock, and she was the only key that would fit it. The automatic refuelling pipes were already snaking out to ready the ship for leaving, as Mandy strode purposefully down the mesh gantry that led from the docking bay.

A burley man stood in her way, a head taller than the captain. She halted inches from him; then she looked up. “I’ve come for Quinn” was all she offered, but for the look that could wither a mountain bear. Knowing he was beat before he opened his lips, the giant moved aside. No one messed with the fleet, not if they valued their health. This guardian at least had brains, but Mandy knew there’d be others, less intelligent. Pity them if they cross her path. But she would just have to apply a few of her skills, she knew that before she had set course for this far flung rock.

Beyond lay a general hubbub of the jostling crowd, the hangers on, the workers away from the face, people who just wanted to get lost. And Mandy joined this throng, feeling the slow pulse of the crowed as the collective unconsciously led it’s dance.

Shops stacked with goods to fulfil the needs of this virgin outpost of the empire filled the enclosed bazar, as Mandy followed the current of the crowd. Until spying a familiar sign, she forged her way across the stream of people and gained the relative calm of the Jolly Jupiter’s welcoming doors.

It was a watering hole of the brave pioneers on this new frontier. Although all the tables were full, it was at least a haven from the throng outside, and Mandy moved with purpose over to the bar. The lone tender gave off an air of nervous tension, which somehow grew in intensity when he finally finished polishing the glass he was holding, and noticed Mandy. Then the dark haired man returned the glass to a rack overhead.

“You said you’d never drink here again” he accused the captain. Mandy leaned in, and taking the barman’s tie in her fist, whispered through clenched teeth. “I’m not drinking.” The tension between them was at breaking point, when suddenly Mandy let go of his tie. And the barman stepped back adjusting the knot around his neck.

Mandy put a note down on the bar and asked, “Where is he?” Acting as if he hadn’t just been half throttled, the barman poured bourbon in a glass he’d just place before Mandy, and seized the money. “He’s not been round here in some time.” Then as Mandy cocked her head to one side, and bore in to his eyes with her stare. The barman offered, “He stops down in Q sector these days”, before he left to attend to another client.

Mandy considered this, as she sipped her bourbon. Then turning on her heels, she pressed out in to the throng once more. “Q sector”, cursed Mandy. Why did it have to be Q sector? The grim look on her face matched the steady stride she had broken in to through the crowd. Almost but not quite over balancing in this low gravity.

The inevitable end of the bazar loomed, and Mandy spied the doors. The portals leading to the levels below, where all the mining was done; and where Quinn would be found. The only problem was the security measures set up to stop any undesirable getting down there.

For although this outpost was an economic necessity for the outer worlds. It also existed on a knife-edge. If some psycho wanted to blast the whole structure in to space, they could do it down there. All personnel got regular screenings for undesirable urges, and only those on the good list got to pass through the gates to hell. If your name wasn’t down you weren’t coming in.

Mandy had pondered this problem ever since the barman had imparted the fateful information. She had to get to Quinn, but how could she do it? Meer bluff would do no good, everyone wishing to pass below had a biometric identity that the electronic gatekeeper could test in many different ways, and they did. And force would be swiftly countered with deadly retribution. Mandy noticed a communications panel, and considered if her skills could manage to break in to the security measures to create an identity. But she knew that would be a task too difficult, and then she had it.

She quickly changed her rout, and was soon sat before the shrewd face of the base administrator. It was amazing what a fleet uniform could do in this far-flung part of the solar system. Most people would have been put off by the over efficient underlings, who kept the hoi polloi at bay, and away from the most important man on this rock. Without a very good reason and a future appointment date designed to defuse the problem they brought, before the headcheese had to face it.

But here Mandy was; and as the base commander proffered her a drink from his cabinet, he finally spoke. “So you’ve finally come to collect I presume.” At which the captain nodded, placing the untasted glass down. What debt lay between them would not be discussed; they knew their business. It was just the price that mattered, and Mandy named it.

With no outward sign of what it cost him; surprisingly little he thought if he was any judge of character, the official shook her hand. So he bid Mandy a goodbye, for he knew they would never meet again. And then he instructed an underling to help Mandy with her request. A one off access to her desired goal; sector Q.

Once more Mandy passed through the throng, but this time she walked strait up to the portal, that before would have barred her way. Refusal would have invoked at best embarrassment, at worst injury or death. But as she stood in the light now searching her body for the tell tail signs that she was indeed a privileged member of the few allowed to venture beyond this barrier, Mandy thought what she would say to Quinn when she finally got hold of him.

And then it was over, as Mandy gave a sigh of relief; for even captains must be expectant at times. The door slid open and Mandy stepped in to the corridor beyond. There was no sudden change of decor, these outposts relied on the prefabricated parts, and any pretence at creating a home from home was kept strictly to the private areas, where one could lose themselves in the moment, and forget they were sitting on the deadly ground beneath; and only protected from the lethal radiation above by a thin membrane. Not to mention the sub zero temperatures, and unrelenting vacuum that would snuff you out in an instant.

The clang of Mandy’s boots were the only sign of life here, for it was deep below that all the work was being done. Very few relished the idea of being so close to the reason they were there, but there they were. And so the miners kept the Sulphur Dioxide coming; kept the money rolling in. And the outer planets and out posts kept their supply of this deadly commodity, deemed economically unviable to be stripped from mother Earth, and shipped out this far and further.

The lift shuddered to a halt after what seemed like an eternity to Mandy, and she stepped out in to the mine tunnel. The base administrator didn’t bother down here, just as long as the supply kept coming, and the demands of the site foreman didn’t exceed what he considered reasonable. It was to the foreman’s office that Mandy now moved, through the heat haze that pervaded. Obviously air conditioning didn’t rank high on the priorities that the commander got presented with. The workers grew used to the conditions; perhaps that was why Quinn stayed down here all the time now. And then thought Mandy, perhaps not.

In contrast to the commandant, the foreman held an open door policy, or at least an open air lock one. Partially to conserve his personal air-conditioned offices, but also to provide a crucial few moments for any irate miner to cool off, while the automated seals opened and closed.

So it was with little notice that the man Mandy must see next, rose to shake this unexpected visitor by the hand. “And what brings you down here captain?” he greeted her noting the crisp uniform of the fleet. “I’m after Quinn, I know he’s down here.” Mandy didn’t beat about the bush. Her fleet training matched her own sense of how the world worked. Some people need you to be direct and to the point, that’s what gets results.

The foreman also knew how to size people up; he had to in this potential powder keg. He’d had miners in here before clearly stating their case, some were just bluffing, trying it on. But not this fleet officer stood before him. If he didn’t help her find her quarry, she would cause a whole bunch of trouble. Of that he was sure.

With an indication that Mandy should sit, he called up the work schedules. “Quinn, Quinn” the foreman absentmindedly spoke to himself as he checked the section Quinn should be working in today. Then beaming “Here we have it. Sector Q32" and glancing up he added, “that’s some away, would you like a guide?” But Mandy was already up and studying the map which filled one wall. Almost absent-mindedly she asked, “Is there any need for protective clothing to get there?” And keen to help the foreman came round his desk. “No, we have all those sections pretty much locked down. Just drop in on your way back,” he added as Mandy strode towards the airlock. “Got to keep my tally of bodies down below, for safety.”

With that Mandy passed once more in to the heat that all that worked here must endure. It really was like an oven down here thought Mandy, but if you can’t stand the heat. She made her way through the twists and turns that permeated this maze of tunnels. Pausing only for a drink from the occasional catch of bottled water on her route.

Then Mandy finally saw the object of her quest. And wiping the last drops of liquid from her lips, she approached the man from behind. But just as Mandy was about to reach out and touch his shoulder, Quinn sensed the presence behind him. Never the less, on turning he registered his surprise after all. Surprise at seeing Mandy standing there large as life. And a grin spread over his face as he took in Mandy’s figure.

“You’ve made captain”, Mandy gave a curt nod and replied, “And now I can fulfil my promise. My hand was what you asked for.” But Quinn cut her off as he withdrew a small box from his pocket. “And you said only when you commanded a star ship.” Then withdrawing a ring from the well-worn casket, he slipped it on to her finger.


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