My first entry for over a week. We just cleared the asteroid
belt. It was very tough going.
When we flung the ship around Mars, using the gravity to turn us into a missile, we entered an area of space unseen by humans in hundreds of years. There are some very large, now hollow, asteroids that we considered as possible problems, but which we did not consider so deeply. We thought, if we could aim for the Kirkwood gaps, we might have some rest periods in which we were safe. Since the gaps are caused by Jupiter’s gravity, and we were bound for Jupiter, it made sense at the time. We were wrong – there are too many random dust clouds, we never had “minimal impact” on the vessel.
We are all alive – shaken to the cores of our being, but physically alive.
Our vessel is in one piece, as well. We did not lose any bits – perhaps the benefit of aiming for the Kirkwood gaps was here, in not losing any technology off of our ship.
We were constantly shaken, buffeted and losing momentum due to the solar radiation pulling clouds of debris always closer into the sun, material swirling down the drain of a larger gravitational body. As soon as we passed the first few large asteroids, moving into the center of the belt, Zariah herded us to the center of the ship, where we had a protective chamber. We dragged as many boxes of sensitive cargo with us as we could, to protect them. Eggs from octopuses, fish, bivalves. Seeds, the tiny planters with only the whispered hope of seedlings. Clean water, and food.
At first, it was cozy at the interior of the ship. We strapped ourselves to the walls for much of the day, reading or sewing or talking. Durada, Natsuki, and Vivien began to help Ihsan and me with the plants, while Zariah and Yuda huddled and whispered, pointing nervously to the walls. Occasionally I heard them talk about the computer crystals, and the damage a direct impact from a large asteroid – one of those with a name, not just a number – could do.
However, after a few days, the compartment began to smell of sweat and worry and stale air. We all became irritated and snapped at each other for no reason. Having two Senfte members helped minimize potential damage – those Araboa ladies are hot-tempered and strong, which bodes well for desire to survive, and not so well for avoiding physical altercations. Luckily, they allowed Budur and Ghadir to calm everything down.
Our two Senfte have developed worry lines, and dark circles beneath their eyes.
Natsuki showed me how to sprout seaweed. We have three, what seem to be very colorful, varieties: Gracilaria, which is red; Laminaria, which is a rusty green; and porphyra, which is a deep chartreuse. We tied dried seedlings onto threads and immersed them in long vials full of saline. By the time we came to the edge of the asteroid belt, a few tiny leaflets sprouted along the threads, waving hello to us through the water. They were the friendliest living things I’d seen in too long.
We also started the algae, which will mostly live near the air filtration system to help clean and resupply oxygen for us. We have bags full of the dried stuff, packed tight, which we strung horizontally – as much as there is any sense of direction when one is floating through space – and added water to the brownish-green flakes inside. Now, our pouches are bright green and becoming puffy with oxygen by-product. We will need to poke holes in the sides to release the pressure, and allow our carbon dioxide to infuse the containers. If we don’t, the algae will die. Besides, getting some fresh air in this ship will be nice.
We decided to wait to start with the octopus eggs, but we did also seed the clams and mussels and scallops, which will both protect Rabbah, and provide us with food. With Vivien’s and Natsuki’s leadership, we unpacked bags of suspended, dehydrated larvae and put them inside more saline-filled cylinders. Currently, we have tubes full of water and almost microscopic bivalve larvae, which we will release in the finest carbon filament mesh when we reach Rabbah, so that they root to the sides of the colony, rather than swim away into the blue abyss of the rest of the planet.
Granted, it is unlikely that there is anywhere else on Europa for them to take root, besides the bottom of the ocean and the ever-changing internal face of the ice shell. Neither of those would be great options for a shelled creature, I imagine. They would either never grow up – a sea of larval creatures, listlessly swimming in search of a home they cannot even imagine, much less create for themselves – or they would die, which is a waste of food and energy.
When we reached the edge of the asteroid belt, Zariah and Yuda bravely ventured forth into the outer layer of the ship to assess the damage. They took their breathing helmets with them, but fortunately they found a thin layer of air still within the ship. Only micrometeorites penetrated the shell at high speeds, and we did not have to replace a computer core, which they had feared. Our plan is, tomorrow, to release the pent-up oxygen from our algae into the outer edge of our vessel. We need to get to the algae to begin feeding the larval bivalves anyway; they came with their own food, but that was only meant to last five days. May as well wean them onto algae now.
Writing this, I am already beginning to feel better. I still look forward to planting my feet into a more solid surface, feel some gravity pressing into me, so when I tilt my head up, I know it is truly up toward the sky.
Ghadir, Chloe, Budur, and Haven are all taking inventory of our less-important supplies – carbon fiber meshes, welding and soldering materials. The tools are sensitive, but the materials themselves are less easily destroyed than, for example, living creatures that we had to tend to. I suspect there will be a few holes punched in boxes, some metallic dust left in inconvenient spaces in our soldering wands and power stations, but nothing unusual or harmful. A good shake once on Europa will clear much of that.
Meanwhile, we have each taken to knitting again, though in terribly uneven lines. There were a few holes that were audibly sucking air into space, when one leaned closely enough, so instead of making sweaters, we are knitting strips of carbonized silk into makeshift patches, so we don’t have to use our soldering equipment and both waste electrical power on the ship, and also waste material that would be better served in rebuilding Rabbah.
We have not had to repair our clothes, our helmets, our ship’s systems, and we have not had to use any of the medical equipment we were sent with. All of this bodes well, as we’re out of the most dangerous part of the trip so far. If we can keep living frugally on the ship, then we should be able to live well on Rabbah.
Oh! And of all the hydroponic plants we started – tomatoes, lettuces, aloe and senna – we finally have a few little sprouts. A good start to a long life, indeed.
I do not know if I will write again for a few days, but when things get interesting, I will be back in contact.
When we flung the ship around Mars, using the gravity to turn us into a missile, we entered an area of space unseen by humans in hundreds of years. There are some very large, now hollow, asteroids that we considered as possible problems, but which we did not consider so deeply. We thought, if we could aim for the Kirkwood gaps, we might have some rest periods in which we were safe. Since the gaps are caused by Jupiter’s gravity, and we were bound for Jupiter, it made sense at the time. We were wrong – there are too many random dust clouds, we never had “minimal impact” on the vessel.
We are all alive – shaken to the cores of our being, but physically alive.
Our vessel is in one piece, as well. We did not lose any bits – perhaps the benefit of aiming for the Kirkwood gaps was here, in not losing any technology off of our ship.
We were constantly shaken, buffeted and losing momentum due to the solar radiation pulling clouds of debris always closer into the sun, material swirling down the drain of a larger gravitational body. As soon as we passed the first few large asteroids, moving into the center of the belt, Zariah herded us to the center of the ship, where we had a protective chamber. We dragged as many boxes of sensitive cargo with us as we could, to protect them. Eggs from octopuses, fish, bivalves. Seeds, the tiny planters with only the whispered hope of seedlings. Clean water, and food.
At first, it was cozy at the interior of the ship. We strapped ourselves to the walls for much of the day, reading or sewing or talking. Durada, Natsuki, and Vivien began to help Ihsan and me with the plants, while Zariah and Yuda huddled and whispered, pointing nervously to the walls. Occasionally I heard them talk about the computer crystals, and the damage a direct impact from a large asteroid – one of those with a name, not just a number – could do.
However, after a few days, the compartment began to smell of sweat and worry and stale air. We all became irritated and snapped at each other for no reason. Having two Senfte members helped minimize potential damage – those Araboa ladies are hot-tempered and strong, which bodes well for desire to survive, and not so well for avoiding physical altercations. Luckily, they allowed Budur and Ghadir to calm everything down.
Our two Senfte have developed worry lines, and dark circles beneath their eyes.
Natsuki showed me how to sprout seaweed. We have three, what seem to be very colorful, varieties: Gracilaria, which is red; Laminaria, which is a rusty green; and porphyra, which is a deep chartreuse. We tied dried seedlings onto threads and immersed them in long vials full of saline. By the time we came to the edge of the asteroid belt, a few tiny leaflets sprouted along the threads, waving hello to us through the water. They were the friendliest living things I’d seen in too long.
We also started the algae, which will mostly live near the air filtration system to help clean and resupply oxygen for us. We have bags full of the dried stuff, packed tight, which we strung horizontally – as much as there is any sense of direction when one is floating through space – and added water to the brownish-green flakes inside. Now, our pouches are bright green and becoming puffy with oxygen by-product. We will need to poke holes in the sides to release the pressure, and allow our carbon dioxide to infuse the containers. If we don’t, the algae will die. Besides, getting some fresh air in this ship will be nice.
We decided to wait to start with the octopus eggs, but we did also seed the clams and mussels and scallops, which will both protect Rabbah, and provide us with food. With Vivien’s and Natsuki’s leadership, we unpacked bags of suspended, dehydrated larvae and put them inside more saline-filled cylinders. Currently, we have tubes full of water and almost microscopic bivalve larvae, which we will release in the finest carbon filament mesh when we reach Rabbah, so that they root to the sides of the colony, rather than swim away into the blue abyss of the rest of the planet.
Granted, it is unlikely that there is anywhere else on Europa for them to take root, besides the bottom of the ocean and the ever-changing internal face of the ice shell. Neither of those would be great options for a shelled creature, I imagine. They would either never grow up – a sea of larval creatures, listlessly swimming in search of a home they cannot even imagine, much less create for themselves – or they would die, which is a waste of food and energy.
When we reached the edge of the asteroid belt, Zariah and Yuda bravely ventured forth into the outer layer of the ship to assess the damage. They took their breathing helmets with them, but fortunately they found a thin layer of air still within the ship. Only micrometeorites penetrated the shell at high speeds, and we did not have to replace a computer core, which they had feared. Our plan is, tomorrow, to release the pent-up oxygen from our algae into the outer edge of our vessel. We need to get to the algae to begin feeding the larval bivalves anyway; they came with their own food, but that was only meant to last five days. May as well wean them onto algae now.
Writing this, I am already beginning to feel better. I still look forward to planting my feet into a more solid surface, feel some gravity pressing into me, so when I tilt my head up, I know it is truly up toward the sky.
Ghadir, Chloe, Budur, and Haven are all taking inventory of our less-important supplies – carbon fiber meshes, welding and soldering materials. The tools are sensitive, but the materials themselves are less easily destroyed than, for example, living creatures that we had to tend to. I suspect there will be a few holes punched in boxes, some metallic dust left in inconvenient spaces in our soldering wands and power stations, but nothing unusual or harmful. A good shake once on Europa will clear much of that.
Meanwhile, we have each taken to knitting again, though in terribly uneven lines. There were a few holes that were audibly sucking air into space, when one leaned closely enough, so instead of making sweaters, we are knitting strips of carbonized silk into makeshift patches, so we don’t have to use our soldering equipment and both waste electrical power on the ship, and also waste material that would be better served in rebuilding Rabbah.
We have not had to repair our clothes, our helmets, our ship’s systems, and we have not had to use any of the medical equipment we were sent with. All of this bodes well, as we’re out of the most dangerous part of the trip so far. If we can keep living frugally on the ship, then we should be able to live well on Rabbah.
Oh! And of all the hydroponic plants we started – tomatoes, lettuces, aloe and senna – we finally have a few little sprouts. A good start to a long life, indeed.
I do not know if I will write again for a few days, but when things get interesting, I will be back in contact.
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