Trapped on Venus (9 page)

 
What a compliment, the
astronauts understood. For it had been the steady, precise, manual flying of
Neil Armstrong that had put the first men on the Moon. More guts than training
because you could never practice for something like this. No one would even
think it could happen! But, now the astronauts were linked together and could
come back to Earth

 
Scott and Marty shut
down the instruments of their landing unit then entered the command module to see
a widely-smiling Col. Thomas Grayson.

 
“You guys sure don’t
make these pickups easy, do you?” Grayson remarked with an obvious tinge of
humor in his voice.

 
“We’re just glad you
can fly this old bucket of bolts as well as you did,” Scott responded. “Otherwise,
we might have been in an eternal orbit around Venus, and that doesn’t sound
like my favorite thing to do.”

 
“Scott and Marty. This
is Stimson,” the mission commander interrupted from his console at Earth
Control One. “You, too, Tom,” he said to the module pilot. “What a great job
you did! None of that was planned. We didn’t even practice for it. Why would
we? We never thought anything like that could happen. But, that was some great
flying in a kind of free-for-all situation. You snatched them right out of
space, Tom. Perfect flying you guys. I can’t tell you how fast my heart was
beating. And you sure made some wives and children pretty happy.”

 
The men were quiet for
a moment as the realization of what they had done sunk in. It was almost
inconceivable that after all that had happened in the last hour or so they were
still alive and grateful for the skill and poise they had exhibited under some
very stressful conditions. But, everyone was eager to know what had happened to
make them blast off from the planet so urgently.

 
“What happened down
there, Jennings and Fisk? One minute you were safe and sound and sleeping in
the landing module, then the next thing we knew, the ground was breaking apart
and you had to launch.” Stimson urgently wanted to know more about what had
happened because he had some important decisions to make in a relatively short
period of time. “Were those creatures the cause of it?”

 
Scott and Marty looked
at each other with a kind of confusion written on their faces. Then, Scott attempted
an answer. “John, it’s hard to say exactly what happened or why. We knew we
were in danger and that the whole module might be tipped over or damaged in
some way, so we launched. I don’t think either one of us got a good look at
what was actually happening outside, we just knew we had to get out of there.
How about you, Marty? What do you remember?”

 
“Just thinking we had
to blast off. I did look out of the pod window quickly. The ground was
splitting up again... the way it did when we first saw the creatures,” Marty
responded.

“Do you think they were attacking you?” Stimson asked,
wondering out loud if the creatures were deliberately trying to harm them.
 

 
Each of the astronauts
paused a moment to consider Stimson’s question. “No, I don’t think they were,”
Scott replied. “I never got the feeling that they were trying to kill us even
when we saw them in the pool. Did you, Marty?”

 
“No. I agree, Scott. I
thought they were more curious and unsure of what we were doing there than they
were trying to kill us,” Marty explained.

 
“Well, guys,” Stimson
said, sliding in a somewhat uncomfortable bit of new. “We’ve talked it over,
and we want you to go back.”

 
“What??” both Scott
and Marty exclaimed at the same time.

 
“It’s just too much to
give up if we don’t send you back,” Stimson tried to say persuasively. “Do you
realize what you’ve done? What you’ve found there? Scott... Marty... Tom... You
guys are in the middle of the most astounding encounter in the history of
mankind! These creatures... they’re the only living things we’ve ever found
outside of planet Earth! We’ve just got to know more about them. We’ve got to
collect some information about them, figure out if we can communicate with
them. Where did they come from? Where do they live? How do they live? Are there
more? There are just so many...”

 
“But, John,” Scott
interrupted. “We just aren’t equipped for this. I don’t even know if we have
enough fuel to go back.”

 
“Scott,” Marty added,
as he considered what Stimson had said. “Scott. I think we can do it. And, I
think we can do it better this time. Before, we didn’t even know what they
were, or why they were there. It might be a whole different experience if we’re
actually looking for them. And, if we have Stimson and the Earth Control One
group helping us, I’m sure we can find out more about them. Think of how much
we can learn from it.”

 
“And, if we have to
wait to send another mission, it may be years before we can get back to Venus,”
Stimson inserted. “This is a chance of a lifetime. I know it’s dangerous, and I
know you’re not equipped for this kind of a mission, but I think you can do it.
And, you three are some of the best we’ve got for this.”

 
Scott let all of these
arguments sink in. Stimson was certainly right that if they had to send a new
mission, it might be years, might even be a decade before they could get all
the approvals and funding and training in to leave again. NASA was a great
place for science, and a source of scientific exploration, but things moved
almost at a glacier’s pace when you were trying to get something done. Check,
double-check, and check again and again was the NASA motto. By the time things
were ready to try, it was almost another lifetime since starting.

 
“How would we do it,
John?” Scott asked Stimson. “I mean, do we have enough fuel and oxygen to even
attempt it?”

 
“They’re doing the
calculations right now, Scott,” Stimson replied. “There’s a planning committee
going over the whole itinerary right now. They will be able to tell us if it’s
feasible; food, oxygen, fuel, where to land... when to leave.”

 
Scott and Marty talked
with Grayson in the capsule. “What do you think, Tom?” Scott asked Grayson. Do
you think it’s possible?”

 
“Oh, I think it’s
possible, all right,” Grayson said with confidence. “I even think it’s a great
idea. We can do it, I know we can. And, there’s such a chance to make a giant
breakthrough.”

 
“I certainly see all
that,” Scott interrupted. “I can see all the upside. But, what if we fail? What
if something bad happens – we don’t have enough fuel for another launch? We
don’t have enough oxygen to find the creatures, or to make contact with them.
And, what if they don’t want us there? What if they were trying to kill us
before? How would NASA look if we die down there?”

 
Those were some real
tough questions. Marty, Scott, and Tom Grayson all looked at one another. Would
the price be too high if they failed? Would NASA be viewed as too mission
oriented? No consideration for the lives of its astronauts? Science first and
people later?

 
“We’ve got some
information for you,” Stimson reported from Earth Control One. “The committee
has been doing some calculations and they claim you’ve got enough fuel and
oxygen to go back. Using certain precautions, we should have at least ten hours
left to do a reconnaissance of the surface. We understand that you won’t be
able to do a lot in a time frame like that, but it might give us an opportunity
to at least collect some information and reset some of the equipment so that we
can find out more.”

 
Marty wondered if it
was worth it. “You mean we would only have... well... less than ten hours if
you count going and coming from the ship. That would probably involve at least
thirty minutes each way. So, we’d have maybe nine hours to find those
creatures, make contact with them, convince them that we don’t mean them any
harm, then blast off for the command module again? What’s to say that we’ll
even find them again?”

 
“Yes, I know what
you’re saying, Marty,” Stimson consoled him. “But, it’s either that, or don’t
try anything and just wonder what could have happened for the next ten years or
so.”

 
Marty spoke up again.
“I think we have to go, then,” he said as he weighed the risks and rewards in
his mind. “We’re in a position right now to find out more about Venus than
we’ve ever known before. Plus, this could be the most gigantic step forward in
the space program we’ve ever taken. Who knows? Maybe we can even make contact
with those creatures. Do you or your committee have any ideas about that,
John?”

 
“Yes, we do, Scott.
We’ve had a team studying it since you first made contact. We’ve got Professor
Andrus ready to give you a briefing of what they’ve concluded. Do you want to
hear from him now?”

 
“Yes. Let’s hear what
they’ve concluded,” Scott said with interest. “We saw those creatures, but we
didn’t have a chance to analyze them or try to figure out what they were
doing.”

 
“Affirmative, Scott.
They’ve used some of the soil and atmospheric data to come up with a theory.
Here’s Professor Andrus.”

 
Sitting at a console
near John Stimson, the command officer of the program, was Professor Stanislaus
Andrus, a Polish-American Professor of Chemistry at the University of
Miami-Florida, who was distinguished in his field for his views about life on
other planets. He was a heavyset man, with a head of unruly gray hair that
instantly reminded one of someone who barely paid any attention to it. He
seemed to be so focused on his work that he was rarely seen without a lab coat
on.

 
“Eeez diss da switch I
push?” he asked Stimson who nodded to him. “Like diss?” and he pushed a switch
that lit a green bulb on his console.

 
“Yes, go ahead,
Professor,” Stimson advised him.

 
“Scott? Captain
Jennings?” the professor began.

 
“Yes, I’m here,
Professor,” the astronaut replied.

 
“I been study
possibility of life on Venus, and other planets, for long time. But, diss most
exciting discovery ever. I always suppose we find bacteria or algae, not whole
organism! These creature might have intelligence. Might even half whole
civilization if my teery correct.”

 
“We thought of that
same possibility, Professor,” Scott replied. “They seemed to be aware of us. It
was almost like they were watching us, but we didn’t see any eyes or feelers or
sensory receptors of any kind.”

 
“Yes, vee taught so,”
the Professor added without surprise. “But daat not so unusual consider many
life forms do not have arm and leg and eye. These seem almost like large-scale
amoeba or protozoa. They not hunt or eat like we do, but move and grow by
absorb common elements. You an Major Fisk may have confuse them. They have
natural tendency to merge wit you not remain separate. They might need to merge
wit you to know what you are.”

 
This stunned everyone
who was listening to the hook up; the astronauts, the technicians, many of the
other scientists in the room, the command group. In effect, he was saying that
the creatures weren’t menacing at all, perhaps not even intelligent, but
large-size primitive organisms who were just trying to determine who or what
the astronauts were. The Professor went on: “May not be able communicate wit
dem at all; may just have to determine their DNA.”

 
“But that would mean
coming in contact with them,” Scott said. “Or touching them in some way.”

 
“Yes, may be
necessary. If we can, must get DNA sample for tests.”

 
Stimson broke in at
that point. “Why don’t you get some rest for now if you can,” he indicated to
the astronauts. “We’ll do some more study and work out an itinerary for you.
Every minute will be important,” he emphasized. “Right now, the plan calls for
us to attempt a re-landing in seven hours. That’s when landing conditions will
be best for where we want you to go.”

 
“Seven hours!” Scott
exclaimed. “That’s coming at us pretty fast. I’m not sure if I can even get to
sleep in that time I’m so keyed up.”

 
“You’ll make it, guys.
Leave the worrying to us. We’ll wake you when it’s time.”

 
“Ok, Stimson,” Scott
responded. “But, you’re gonna owe us a whole week of vacation time when we get
back.”

 
“Gladly, Scott.
Gladly,” John Stimson said as he contemplated what was ahead of them all. Then
he left his desk console and went to check with the various other groups that
were working on different aspects of the return to Venus.
 

 
Scott and Marty had hardly
realized how exhausted they were. But now, with this break before they began
their return to Venus, it was wise for them to just remain silent, sit back in
the deeply-cushioned, form-fitting module chairs that had been designed at
great expense for their comfort and efficiency, and try to get some rest. Sleep
might be harder to come by with all the thousands of thoughts rushing through
their minds, but it would be a bonus if they could get some.

 
Scott pushed a switch
to inactivate his headset, then turned to Marty who was only a foot or so to
his side. “Marty?” he said, then waited until he saw the astronaut open his
eyes and look in his direction. “Yeah, Scott,” Marty replied. Scott pointed at
the communication switch on Marty’s console. Marty moved it into the off
position.

 
Now, just the two of
them sat closely enough to hear one another. Col. Tom Grayson was sitting
across from them, turned in the opposite direction. But he was still flying the
craft, and was in communication with Earth Control One.

 
“Marty?” Scott asked
again. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

 
“Of course I do,
Scott. There’s no other option. We can’t wait for a new mission to be
scheduled. That might take six... eight... even ten years. You know that.”

 
“But, I’m not talking
about that right now, Marty. What if...” he thought a minute about what he was
going to say, trying to keep from putting a chill in his partner’s confidence.
“What if... something happens?”

 
“You mean, like we die
or something?” Marty understood what Scott was asking him. What about their
families, their kids... their futures? “Yeah, I know what you’re saying, but it
could’ve happened on the way up here. It could’ve happened just an hour ago
when we were spinning in space and Grayson scooped us up out of trouble. Sure,
something could happen – and I’d be one of the first to let some other guy go,
some single guy with no kids and no wife, if I had the choice – but that isn’t
one of our options. And who could do it better than we can? We’ve trained for
this mission. We know how everything works.” He reached across the short
distance between them and put his hand on the arm of Scott’s suit. “And you, my
friend, are one of the best pilots we’ve got at NASA. You’ve been there before.
You’ve got the reflexes, the skills, the know-how. You can bring us in, I know
you can.”

 
Scott could feel the
confidence-building that Marty was giving him. Almost like a coach telling his
team that they could win the big game even though the odds looked long and it
would take a superhuman effort to accomplish their goal. Then, Scott turned to
him, and looked earnestly concerned as he asked: “But, what about the
creatures?”

 
That was a different
question altogether. Landing on Venus, going out on the surface again...
encountering – no, actually looking for! – the creatures... Was this insane?
Was this just asking for trouble?

 
“I still have images
of that moment in my mind, Scott... when we couldn’t get past them... when I
wondered if they were trying to... well, kill us – or at least detain us. Were
they trying to figure out who we were, or were they just intent on...
eliminating us?”

 
“I just can’t make
myself believe they were trying to kill us, Marty,” Scott interrupted. “I
didn’t get that kind of feeling. Curious, yes; but killing us, no.”

 
They both stopped to
reflect on that incident. The images that came to mind were mixed with fear,
frustration, and desperation. Maybe even a sense of panic. Undulating globs
of... of what? What were they? Were they intelligent? Were they just globs of
protein or primitive life forms not even really aware of their own existence,
just living until they died or reproduced?

 
But, Scott’s thoughts
were wearing him out. He was so tired... so confused, unsettled. “I’m going to
try to get some sleep, Marty,” he managed to say as he let his eyes close. “It
won’t be long before Stimson will be waking us up. Turn on your com unit, then
try to get some rest. I have a feeling this might be one of the wildest things
we’ve ever done.”

 
“Roger, Scott,” Marty
said as he switched his communication unit back on. “Sleep it is.”

*****

 
While the astronauts
slept, John Stimson’s crew of scientists, technicians, and staff administrators
gathered in a large meeting room at Earth Control One.

 
“Andrus, you’re out of
your mind!” Adam Jeremac, one of eight or ten scientists in the room, yelled at
the Professor who had earlier talked with the astronauts. “There’s just no way
we can make contact with these creatures! They’re globs of protoplasm! Bubbles in
the mud! The only thing we can do is get some samples and get out of there!”

 
“I tink you be a
little prematour,” Professor Andrus replied in his thick Polish accent. “There
be signs of group socilization, dey half mobility, dey...”

 
“Those are not signs of
socialization, they’re signs of new chemistry! That’s like seeing movement in a
quicksand bog and calling it intelligence! It may not even be LIFE! It may be a
cauldron of bubbling liquid – just waiting to make a STEW out of our guys!”

 
“Adam... Stan... Come
on, let’s at least make this orderly. You’ll both have a chance to speak, and
we’ll find out what your views are,” interrupted Stimson as he entered the
room. Looking up, he instructed the room further: “Would everyone please take a
seat.”

 
It was easy to see
that this was an opinionated group, and that they were eager to offer their
input. Stimson was able to quickly quiet them and get them to the table. Forty
people could sit at this large, oval table, and each seat was filled.

 
“Gentlemen – and ladies,
of course – we’ve got to move quickly on this,” Stimson began. “In less than
five hours we’re going to send the Venus Twelve team back to Venus, so we’ve
got to have a definite plan, some definite objectives, and we’ve got to decide
what to do with those creatures.”

 
“Have we definitely
determined that they’re creatures, John?” asked Davis Topeler, the eternal
skeptic in the room. “We haven’t really seen any images of what Fisk and
Jennings encountered, we don’t even have any real data on them.”

 
“But they were moving
and changing shape. There was a group of them. We have to assume that they were
creatures and that they knew what they were doing,” insisted Jacob Levin, a
chemist and twelve year NASA Life Assessment team leader who had at one time
been assigned to look for life on the moons of Jupiter. “There can be no doubt
that we’ve encountered life, and it may be intelligent,” he said emphatically.

 
“Waves have been known
to do a lot of moving and changing shape, Jacob, but we don’t call them life or
intelligent,” countered Dr. Fernando Gomez of the Geo-Marine Institute that had
done studies of dolphins and whales to see how highly evolved they were. “Even
sounds are very common from non-living species. Ever hear the wind whistle
through trees or branches rub together? How about the water? Many people claim
they hear voices in a stream. We need something more substantial to conclude
that they’re alive let alone intelligent.”

 
“Gentlemen,” John
Stimson intervened. “The question of life, and intelligence, is something we
may be able to determine when we return to the planet. What kind of
confirmation would you like to see for either of those designations?”

 
“How about a phone
call?” jested Bill Sullivan of the imaging team.

 
“Or how about they
catch a football?” quipped Jarvis Pickering, a geologist who was also a big
Miami Dolphins football fan. Then, in an undertone, to no one in particular, “
Did we include one on this mission that the guys can throw ?”

 
“More seriously,”
Stimson said turning the conversation to the matters at hand, “What do we need
to do to establish what they are?”

 
“We’ve got to have DNA
samples,” said Betty Passatole, an older but well-regarded biologist who added
the obvious.”

 
“Yes, but how do we
get it, Betty?” asked Raymond Averton, one of the few in the room who had
actually been an astronaut and respected the difficulties Scott and Marty faced
on this mission. “We can’t just walk up to them and ask for a sample?

 
“No, but we can use
the extractor rods and the soil sampling vials. Isn’t there even a wide-lip
sampling bottle in the terrain kit, Dr. Nexton?” she asked of the other woman
in the room. Dr. Elizabeth Nexton was a young, attractive woman of only
thirty-two, who had designed the tools and containers that were used for soil
sampling.

 
“There’s the terrain
proofing kit. That has an open lid top. But, I’m not sure it would work with
the extractor rod,” she answered.

 
“How big around is
it?” Dan Randall asked. His team was responsible for the terrain search.”

 
“Let me look,” Dr.
Nexton said as she leafed through a three-ring binder she had in front of her.
Running her finger down a list on one of the pages, she stopped: “It has an
opening of 5.08 centimeters, 10.16 centimeters in length.”

 
“And, for those of us not
yet comfortably versed in metrics, how big is it, Dr. Nexton?” asked Dan
Randall.

 
“Four inches long by
about two inches in diameter,” she responded.

 
“Why, that isn’t big
enough to get much of anything in it, Dr. Nexton. Don’t they have anything bigger?”

 
What do you mean? Like
a water bucket?” There was laughter in the room. “Most of our collecting was to
be done in bags, Dan. But, we only need a microscopic amount for DNA testing,”
she reminded him.

 
“Yes, I know that,” he
continued. “It’s not the sample I’m concerned with, it’s collecting the sample.
If we’re going to attach it to the extractor rod so that the guys can scoop up
the liquid in one of those pools, I just thought it might be handier to have
something a little larger.”

 
“That brings up another
concern of mine, John,” offered Clayton Isington of the surface collection
team. “How are we going to get them close enough to those pools of liquid to
get a sample? Those extractor rods only extend up to five and a half feet. Can
they get that close to the pools without the surface collapsing?”

 
“Dey vill veigh less
dan on Earth,” Professor Andrus mentioned. “Gravity is less.”

 
“But, not that much
less, Professor,” Mr. Isington added. “They will still have to be very careful
at the edges of the pool.”

 
“Can we clamp two
extractor rods together?” asked Betty Passatole. “Maybe even tape them
together?”

 
“Yes, that would be a
good idea,” John Stimson concurred. “Brad,” he said to his aide, “Mark that
down as one more of the changes we’ll have to have them make...”

 
The conversations went
on for another forty-five or fifty minutes before the meeting finally ended so
that the committee could go about finalizing the itinerary for the astronauts. Then,
only a few hours later, it was time for things to begin.

***
 
**

 
“Venus Twelve.
Jennings... Fisk... This is Stimson at Earth Control One. Do you read me? It’s
time to begin separation procedures before going back to Venus.”

 
In a groggy,
half-awake murmur, Scott answered: “We’re here, John. We’re here. Give us a
minute and we’ll be ready to start separation procedures.”

 
Since the landing pod
was still attached to the Orbiter, Scott and Marty would have to get back
inside it, seal the hatch between the two units, then prepare to separate so
they could attempt another landing on Venus. Although, getting themselves ready
to do that would probably take six or eight minutes because of all the life
support systems and communications links that would have to be reestablished
inside the pod.

 
“How do you feel,
Marty?” Scott asked of his partner as they both unplugged some packages of
wiring and pumped their suits full of oxygen. “Did you get any sleep?”

 
“Yeah, enough I guess.
I don’t feel too bad. How about you?”

 
“Yeah, I’m ok. This is
it, and I’m ready for whatever happens,” Scott said with reassurance.

 
“You guys ready to
start the countdown?” Stimson asked.

 
“Ready here,” Grayson
answered. “Yeah, ready here,” Scott confirmed.

 
“Roger that. Starting
now at five minutes. Ready? Check. Start countdown.” And digital clocks both in
the craft and on the ground began to tick off the seconds in harmony.