Beyond the Belt

CHAPER ONE: SHIVER

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. There’s no medium for the sound to propagate, so it makes sense. What they don’t tell you, though, is that you can hear the cries of crew members taking their last breaths over the comms. That’s an all too familiar experience to me now. Raw. Horrifying. Demoralizing. It never gets easier and there’s seldom anything we can do to help.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since the Grand Tour brought us to this hellhole. At first it was an amazing adventure. We were on the cutting edge of science and exploration. No humans had ever traveled farther from Earth than we had. But then the bastards over on Europa had to go and discover microbial life in their damn subsurface ocean. Now we’re forgotten. Forsaken to our icy outpost 4.3 billion kilometers from home.

~

My motions are slow and lethargic as I dismount from the rover. The sound of cracking ice ripples through my heavy suit. I had nearly frozen to my seat again as I made the long drive to the sampling site. No matter how hard our systems work, they can never seem to keep up. It’s just too damn cold. At -235°C it’s a miracle we can keep anything warm. That doesn’t mean we’re warm, mind you. No. I haven’t felt warm since we left the goldilocks zone on our way out here and I don’t think anyone else has either. It’s just different levels of cold now.

Crunching along the frozen surface, I make my way to the sample flags. The overcast skies bring heavy winds, kicking up shards of ice and pelting them at me as I walk. I came out here alone today as I usually do. It’s a nice chance to get away from the crew. Just me, the hum of my suit, and the rattle of ice attempting to puncture my visor.

“Archie, what’s it like out there today?” crackles the headset in my helmet.

“Same shit, different day Doser. Do you really need to ask?” I reply.

“Someone’s gotta make sure you’re still out there. Haven’t heard from you in over an hour and you’re supposed to check in when you reach Alpha 7,” Doser said annoyedly.

“I haven’t made it there yet, still driving.”

“That’s not what your GPS is saying. What’s your deal today?”

“The weather must be messing with the signal,” I say, dodging an unwanted conversation about feelings.

“Oh come on Archie it’s not even that bad today!”

“Whatever. You’re not the one freezing to death out here. Now just shut up and let me take these samples in peace.”

“Ha! So you are there and our equipment is working properly.” Damnit. This cold must be getting to me more than I thought. Cold induced brain fog is a real pain sometimes. Good thing taking these samples is a pretty mindless task.

Thankfully Doser leaves me alone after that exchange, allowing me to methodically make my way from flag to flag. I stoop down at each stop taking a small canister worth of icy matter from deep below the surface and replace it with a fresh collection tube. It’s monotonous work, but that’s why they sent me here. My research may not be the main objective of this Tritonian base, but at least they made room for me. Nothing beats taking in situ samples by hand and processing them the same day. Robotic missions out here just didn’t cut it for me. The fact that my presence here benefits the quality of my research so greatly is the only thing keeping me from powering down my suit to become a statue gracing this godforsaken wasteland.

With the samples taken, I trudge back to the rover, store today’s haul, and report back on the completed task.

“Collection finished. Prepping for the drive back.”

“Good timing Archie, it looks like the weather is going to start picking up. Don’t dilly dally on your way back today,” Doser warns.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you keep this comm line clear for the next hour and a half, I’ll come straight back,” I retort hopefully.

“Deal. But you better believe I’ll be watching your GPS signal. Doser out.”

I mount the rover and throw open the ignition. The buggy hums to life, warming the vehicle’s mechanisms back to operating temperatures. I sit patiently waiting for the dash to tell me the rover is ready for the journey back while trying not to think about how cold my toes are.

In the span of five minutes, the control panel blinks green and I hit the icy pedal to begin the frigid drive back. Doser wasn’t kidding, this wind really is picking up. It’s throwing larger and larger shards of ice up into the air as if a frozen Poseidon was hurtling an icy trident through it. There’s a beauty to it, though. A harsh, unforgiving beauty. I guess that’s why I’ve always been intrigued by the outer planets and their moons.

I make it back to base in a disappointingly short amount of time. There’s no escaping the rest of the crew now. I’ll just have to sneak off to my lab as quickly and quietly as I can.

Powering down the rover, I unpack my samples and head towards the airlock with large canisters under each arm. Thank God for my weighted, robotic suit. Without it, I’d bound into the air with each step in Triton’s lower gravity.

After seeing the familiar green light flicker on after presenting my credentials, I place the samples on the conveyor belt and punch the receive button with an icy fist. It shudders to life and begins turning, so I step to the side and grab the wheel on the airlock door–much like what was on the naval ships back home. But as I begin turning it, the conveyor belt jolts to a halt and blares: EXCESSIVE ICE ERROR. Damnit Archie, this is what you get for being lazy and not deicing the belt. I return the airlock to the fully closed position and make quick work of the icy belt with the chisel we keep firmly locked next to the control panel. In doing so, I notice a pair of ice cleats freezing to the ground on the opposite side of the conveyor belt. Sighing to myself, I go fetch them and return to the airlock.

With the samples safely on their way through the decontamination process and the ice cleats in hand, I too make my way inside, shedding my heavy suit in the process. It feels amazing to move normally, but I can’t help but notice that my toes look frostbitten again. The purple appearance and physical numbness leave little doubt in my mind.

With a hiss, the last door opens to the base entry foyer. I close the door with a hasty press of a button, drop the ice cleats in a heap next to the door, and start loading the samples onto a cart to bring them to my lab. The cart heaves under today’s load, but I methodically get everything loaded up and begin the slow journey through our cold, metallic hallways.

I come across Angie on the way and give her the courteous greeting she deserves with a hint of sarcasm. “Hear from any aliens today?”

“Nope! But we’ve got all the antennas up and running, both transmitting and listening! Haven’t had to venture outside today for any reason, so all in all it’s a great day so far. More than I can say for you it seems,” Angie shares happily. She always has so much pep in her voice. How does she always stay so positive when her days are spent listening for intelligent life that might not even be out there?

“As expected,” I respond. “Your SETI colleagues must love hearing that every day. Anyway, I’m off. Gotta get processing these new samples.”

“Oh don’t you worry Archie! We’re gonna find ‘em, I know they’re out there,” Angie shoots back optimistically. Her joyfulness is both irritating and comforting. I just can’t decide which way I’m leaning towards today. On one hand, we know life can exist beyond Earth thanks to Europa, but intelligent life? I’m not so sure. Is our hubris so great that we think that other sentient life would be just as interested in finding us as we are in finding them?

I quickly bid Angie goodbye and continue on my way. The cart rattles on the grated floor as it starts rolling again. In short order, I make it to my lab and get straight to processing the collected material. With each insulated tube, I measure temperature, scan it for organics, build a molecular composition profile, and add this information to my ever-growing database. I’m in the process of expanding our geological map of this ice ball. Not only is our map growing in size, but I’ve been building a chronological model of the geology so that we can see how it changes over time.

With the samples processed, I start my program to add the new data to the model. I sit back in my chair and watch it execute, sighing deeply as I do so. Huh. That’s weird. The basic temperature has increased again. That’s the fifth straight week of rising temperatures. I expand the timeframe I’m looking at and confirm my suspicion. We’ve seen long stretches of warming temperatures, but never more than one to two weeks at a time and it’s always followed by some level of cooling.

“Doser, can I have some time at our team meeting tonight to share some of my recent results?” I say in an IM.

“Sure. Any particular reason?”

“I’m seeing some very interesting trends that I think are worth sharing”

“They must be if you’re asking to share. We usually have to pry you for even a small update on your research…”

“Thanks,” I type back, ignoring his facetious comment.

Come 18:30, I’m sitting anxiously in my seat in our uncomfortable conference room, a handful of papers and my tablet sitting on the table in front of me. I’m the first one here–uncharacteristic of me, but also of the rest of the crew. Or maybe I’m just always late enough that they all seem to be on time to me. The door finally creaks open and Dan and Angie come walking in.

“I’m telling you Angie, that blip in the signal might be something,” Dan says emphatically. “Let me take some time to–the hell? What are you doing here already Archie?”

“Just got something interesting to share today,” I reply frankly.

“Oh boy! I can’t wait to hear how the ice changed microscopically this time!”

As if his work is any more interesting than mine, I think to myself as I glare back at him.

“Lay off Dan, I’m sure it’s something worthwhile,” Angie interjects, giving me a smile. I can’t help but throw back an appreciative grin.

By 18:35, the rest of the crew has filed in; Doser, Raven, Luc, Kai, Lev, and Art take their seats and we start the meeting. As usual, Doser begins with the boring managerial crap I try to miss by being late. Ugh. Let’s just get to the important stuff. The reason we’re out here isn’t to sit and squabble over who’s turn it is to clean the bathroom.

“And Archie, I saw that you brought in my ice cleats. Thank you,” Doser adds.

“No problem. Don’t want those freezing over again.”

“Alright, well with that I’ll turn it over to Archie who asked for some time in today’s meeting to share something about his research,” Doser says, concluding his regularly scheduled agenda. There are visible eye rolls and audible sighs.

‘Thanks Doser,” I begin respectfully. “As you all know, I’ve shown in the past that there are frequent phases of fluctuating subsurface temperatures. Sometimes we’re heating up, and sometimes we’re cooling down. But if you recall, that’s never been for more than two weeks, tops.” Dan snorts at that, so I pause briefly.

“Just because you don’t care to remember, Dan, doesn’t mean others are so disinterested,” I continue optimistically. “Anyway, as I was saying, this has never continued for any extended period of time–until now, that is. I’ve been tracking increasing temperatures for five straight weeks! Not only are the temperatures increasing, but the rate of increase is steadily growing as well. We’ve already seen an increase of over 1.5°C and as of today, the rate has hit a staggering 0.3°C per month. This far exceeds anything we’ve seen in the past 170 years of early probe data and certainly exceeds what we’ve–”

“What, so you’re saying global warming has come to Triton too?” Luc interjects. “Not sure about the rest of you, but I wouldn’t mind if this moon got a little warmer.” He’s rewarded with a smirking chuckle from Dan as if that joke hasn’t been made 1000 times. Thankfully, the others ignore his belittling interruption.

“No, Luc,” I respond annoyedly. “It means something strange is happening. Something out of the ordinary.”

“Couldn’t it just be that we’re getting slightly closer to the Sun?” Art asks politely.

“I wondered the same thing at first, Art. But then I looked back at the ephemeris and we’re actually approaching the aphelion of Neptune’s orbit, so by association we’re getting farther from the Sun as well,” I reply. “In fact, we’re on track to be the farthest from the Sun than we’ve ever been in our recorded history of Triton thanks to a slight drift in Neptune’s orbit.”

“Huh. Well what else could be causing a warming like this? Something geological? Tectonic motion?” Raven ponders aloud.

“That’s a good thought given how geologically active Triton is, but that’s typically not as aggressive of a change as this,” I respond excitedly. “I even gave some thought to tidal heating like what is seen on Enceladus, but even that didn’t seem to make sense. That tends to be more cyclic, similar to trends I’ve shown before. What makes this even more strange is that the heating is not uniform.”

“How so?” Doser asks, showing an increased interest.

“Well, Triton is tidally locked to Neptune, right?” I ask. Doser nods. “So that puts one side of Triton always facing Neptune no matter where we are in our orbit around Neptune. And guess what? That’s where we’re seeing increasing temperatures! My sample sites span radially out from our base here on Triton’s north pole and only the samples on the Neptune facing hemisphere are warming.”

“I see,” Doser says contemplatively. “So what do you think it is then, Archie?” I pause, and look him directly in the eyes.

“Neptune is heating up.”