Terraform (an Ell Donsaii story #15) Read online

  “Um, I didn’t…”

  Roger trailed off as he realized she had that unfocused look again. She’d obviously stopped listening to him again. “We might even…” She looked at Roger excitedly, “We might even be able to power hemispherical ports on both sides of an inflated graphene sphere using the same ring of buckyballs and only a tiny bit more power. Essentially, we’d have four times the surface area for only a little bit more power. Using a ten-meter graphene sphere we could send through four times as much atmosphere for the same 600-megawatts.” She looked unfocused again, “Well, maybe 605-megawatts. Or,” she brightened, “you could send the same amount of atmosphere through a five-meter sphere for 151-megawatts.” She gave him an admiring look, “Roger, that was a great idea!”

  Emma snorted, “I hate to sour your admiration for my admittedly wonderful husband, but I’m pretty sure he had no idea it’d make transferring atmosphere easier,” she turned to look dubiously at him, “did you?”

  Roger laughed, “Not a clue. I was asking in hopes we could inject tiny graphene balloons through a needle, then blow them back up once they were inside the body.”

  Ell frowned, “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Well, you know we’ve been implanting ports in diabetics to monitor their blood sugar and administer insulin. When the ports go bad, or stop functioning because scar tissue builds up around them, we’ve been having to leave them in place.” He paused to make a little grimace, “They’re small, but it kinda feels like we’re littering, you know? Polluting the human body actually.” Getting nods from Ell and Amundsen, he continued, “And, they’re not as small as I’d like. We do put them in through a needle, but it’s a pretty big needle, so inserting them hurts. I was trying to think of a way to make the port smaller when it goes in, yet still big enough to pass the sensor once it’s inside the body. It made me think that if only we could blow it up…”

  Ell said, “Maybe if… If we had a port around the circumference of the balloon, we could open it hemispherically and apply suction—through the port—to the side of the balloon that’s outside the body. Then, when we deflate the balloon, we suck all the electronics inside the balloon through to our side as the balloon softens…” She trailed off thoughtfully for a moment, then continued, “As the balloon collapses, the port gets smaller, and, the far wall of the balloon pulls through the port too.” She looked up at her audience, excitement in her eyes, “If the shrinkage of the balloon doesn’t break the portal too soon, maybe we could pull enough through that there wouldn’t be much of the port left inside the body?” She looked thoughtful and said, “Maybe no more than a strip of balloon and a few buckyballs? I’m not at all sure what’ll happen to the port when it’s getting smaller while the balloon it’s mounted on’s shrinking. We’ve got to try this so we can find out!”

  ***

  When Alice entered the lab, she saw Carley sitting at her bench, head in her hands. Alice sat down next to Carley and put a hand on her shoulder, “What’s got you down, girl?”

  Carley didn’t lift her head. Speaking quietly, she said, “Eli. The brother I searched high and low for over so many years, is a drunk…” After a moment, she muttered, “An ugly drunk.”

  Hesitantly, Alice said, “A lot of young guys drink too much when they first come of age. But they get over—”

  “Our dad was a drunk too,” Carley interrupted morosely. “He killed our mother in a booze-fueled rage.”

  “Oh God…” Alice began to respond, but trailed off when she didn’t know what more to say. After a bit, she ventured, “Then, your mom, who I met…”

  “Adoptive mom. She’s great, but she’s not my real mom. And I’m worried that my brother’s going to turn out like my dad. Horrible.”

  “Have you… have you talked to him about his drinking? Asked him if he’d like some help? Whether he wants to quit?”

  Carley shrugged, “Yeah. I’ve talked to him a bunch of times now. He says he can quit any time. Or that he’s just had his last drink. Or that he’s nothing like our dad. Then he has all kinds of excuses when he falls off the wagon. ‘Some guy talked him into having just one beer,’ then pushed him to drink more.” She snorted softly, “You’d think these guys held a bottle to his head and threatened to shoot him with it.”

  “Is it causing him trouble at work?”

  “Yeah. He got fired. Apparently it’s not the first time.”

  “Oh my God! Is he just sitting around at your place with nothing to do? That’s terrible for alcoholics.”

  Carley nodded, “Claims no one’ll hire him.” She looked up into Alice’s eyes, “Because they’re assholes, of course.”

  “Does he… does he have a criminal record?” Alice asked worriedly.

  “Not yet,” Carley said resignedly. “Once he gets that, then for sure no one’s going to hire him.”

  Alice scooted closer and put her arms around Carley, holding her because she didn’t know what else to do.

  ~~~

  His short stature hiding him behind his lab bench, Zage wondered whether he’d done Carley a favor when he’d helped her find her brother.

  He’d already finished what he’d had to do in the lab that day, but didn’t want to get up and walk out because then Carley’d know he’d heard what she said to Alice. He didn’t feel guilty about listening; he’d been kind of trapped in the lab when they started talking about Carley’s problems. Their not realizing he was there was something that happened pretty often since he was too short for them to see behind his bench. But now that it’d happened, he didn’t want to embarrass Carley by making it obvious he’d been there and heard what she’d said. He seated himself on the low stool he used to reach higher shelves and whispered to Osprey, his AI. “Find me literature about the genetic basis of alcoholism.”

  Zage fell into one of his fugue states as he and Osprey went through a large number of papers on the genetics of alcohol abuse. He rose out of the fugue once when Osprey forwarded a query from Randy, the leader of his security detail for the day. Randy wanted to know how much longer Zage would be in the lab.

  Zage said he didn’t know, but he hoped it’d be less than thirty minutes.

  He went back to reviewing the literature.

  ~~

  Zage looked up, then rose out of the little world he’d been in.

  Carley was standing there looking curiously at him. He realized she’d said “Hi Zage.”

  He slowly stood up, “Hi Carley.”

  “I guess I haven’t been paying attention. Your diet’s really been working, hasn’t it?”

  Zage nodded, wincing internally at the dishonesty of doing so.

  Carley tilted her head curiously, “Why’ve you been whispering?”

  “Um…” Zage decided not to try to make up an excuse. “I didn’t think you knew I was here when you started telling Alice about Eli’s problems. I didn’t want you to be embarrassed that I’d heard what you were talking about.” He shrugged, “So I decided to just sit here and research some literature… I thought I was whispering softly enough that you wouldn’t hear me.”

  “I’ve got weirdly good hearing.” She chewed her lip, “I guess not good enough to notice that you were in here before I started spilling my guts to Alice.”

  “Spilling your guts?”

  “It’s just a saying. Means telling somebody everything. Maybe telling them too much in this case. I don’t know why I unloaded on Alice with all that stuff, there’s nothing she can do to help.”

  “Sorry about your brother. I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t have any siblings,” he said wistfully. “I wish I did. I guess I haven’t thought too much about how a little brother or sister might not be all that wonderful.”

  Carley sighed, “Eli was wonderful. Not so much anymore though. I’m really worried he’s going to turn out like my dad.” She tilted her head curiously, “What’re you doing here so late?”

  “Waiting for you to stop spilling your guts and take off so I could
leave without embarrassing you.”

  Carley snorted softly, “That’s polite.” Then she frowned, “No, wait, you said you were searching the literature.”

  “Um… I was looking up what’s known about the genetics of alcoholism.”

  Carley’s eyes widened, “I thought it was multifactorial? I have to admit I haven’t looked it up… but, I should’ve.”

  Zage shrugged, “There’re a lot of genes that’re associated, some weakly, some strongly. Of course, none of them can make you an alcoholic if you never start drinking in the first place. But some can give you a strong predisposition to continue to drink once you have that first taste.” He looked intently at her, “I’m guessing you don’t know whether Eli has any of those genes?”

  She shook her head, staring at Zage. “No,” she almost whispered. “I don’t know if I have them either.”

  “Have you been worried?”

  She nodded, “I’ve never had a drink… for fear… you know?”

  Zage nodded, “You ought to at least check yourself out then, don’t you think?”

  She nodded, looking thoughtful.

  Zage said, “I’d better be going.”

  Carley hadn’t moved when he closed the door to the lab on his way out.

  ***

  UCB, Berkeley, California— Today, a group of University of California Berkeley students organized a large protest decrying the NASA-ETR Mars program. Although the Mars program is being carried out under the auspices of NASA, the students point out that it’s almost entirely funded and completely dependent on the technical resources of ETR. During the event’s culmination, they burned Ell Donsaii in effigy for her role as CEO of ETR’s parent company D5R. When it was pointed out that she was no longer CEO, they responded that she had been in charge when the program was initiated. Aimee Dunbar, spokesperson for the protest, said, “We object in the strongest terms to the destruction of Mars’ pristine environment. Beginning in the 1970s a world that remained untouched for billions of years has been trashed with discarded scientific instruments. Now it’s saddled with astronauts who carry burdens of terrestrial bacteria and are growing terrestrial plants. We insist that the planet be evacuated and steps be taken to sterilize the current site where NASA’s astronauts have been carrying out their investigations. It’s obvious these investigations are simple preludes to the full-scale plundering of Mars’ resources, similar to what’s already been done to our home planet…”

  ***

  Jim rolled his eyes in frustration when Mandy told him that Beth wasn’t going to make it to the Funteims’ game. However, he perked up when she said, “But, I’ve got a substitute.”

  “Has to be a female,” he reminded Mandy. In their co-rec softball league at least four of the ten players on the field had to be female.

  Mandy nodded, “She is.”

  “Has to be a Portal Tech employee too. No outside ringers.”

  “Yeah,” Mandy said with a grin, “I got her by sending out a query on the company intranet.”

  Already wincing at what he expected the answer to be, Jim said, “Has she ever played softball before?”

  Mandy nodded, eyes glittering as if amused, “High school.”

  Jim’s spirits began to rise. A lot of the women in co-rec had barely played. Someone who’d actually been on a high school team would probably be a step up, even if she hadn’t played a game since she graduated. He waved toward the umpire, telling Mandy to go sign the woman up on the Funteims’ roster. If she’s any good, he thought, maybe I can talk her into joining the team. It sure would be great if we weren’t always scrambling for players at the last minute. And, settling for people who don’t even own gloves.

  ~~~

  Jim led the Funteims in throwing the ball around, wishing as always that they had a way to practice real fielding and hitting right before a game. He looked around, “Mandy, where’s your player?”

  “She said she couldn’t get here until right before game time. Might even be a few minutes late.”

  Oh geez, Jim thought. “We’re fielding first. We need every player we can get right at the start.”

  “She’s pretty reliable,” Mandy said soothingly.

  Reliable or not, she wasn’t there when the team had to trot out onto the field. With only nine players, Jim opted for four infielders and three outfielders for now. They left a team jersey on the end of their bench and he had Mandy message the woman to put it on and head out to right field as soon she arrived.

  Jim was pitching and had thrown one ball when he saw a woman trot up to their bench, grab the jersey and lope out to right field pulling it on. He began to feel hope when he noticed she had her own baseball cap and glove. She runs like she’s got some coordination too. He asked his AI to connect him to the umpire, “I assume you see our tenth player’s gotten here? She’s going out to right field, okay?”

  “Yeah,” the umpire said, an odd tone in his voice.

  Jim glanced at the ump and saw him staring out at their new right fielder. Jim looked back over his shoulder to make sure their new player was in position. For a moment he wondered what the ump’s deal was. Then he shrugged and threw the next pitch.

  The big lead-off batter for the other team belted the ball. Of course, he hit it down the right-field line where the new girl was their coverage. Thinking, I should’ve told the fielders to back up when I saw the guy was so huge, Jim turned to watch, hoping it drifted foul. If it didn’t, it was going to be way over the new girl’s head. The other guys would get at least a triple.

  When Jim got eyes on the girl, she was hauling ass, back and to the right. She’ll never make it, he thought, but at least she’s really putting in the effort.

  The big guy was charging down the first base line, like he thought he had a home run. Jim was gratified to see that the next outfielder was hustling to where she’d be able to relay the incoming throw. Jim checked his infield to make sure they looked ready too.

  His eyes went back out to the ball. Holy crap! The girl’s actually gonna get there.

  She can run, he thought, but can she catch?

  Yes, she can! Jim thought as the girl snagged the ball out of the air. She made it look as if what she’d just done was easy.

  The big guy was so surprised to see the ball caught he stumbled on the base path. Then he looked around as if he thought someone might tell him the girl’d broken some kind of rule. After a moment he turned and started trotting back to his bench.

  Jim looked at his new fielder. She was throwing the ball in. Irritated, he thought, too good to be true, as she threw the ball wide of the relay fielder.

  In fact, it wasn’t going to be near any of the infielders either…

  It’s coming to me! Jim thought, startled. A moment later Jim moved his glove a couple of inches and it smacked hard into the pocket! My god, he thought, what an arm! He peered into right field where the girl was trotting back to position, is that Donsaii?

  ~~~

  Yes, it is, Jim thought as the Funteims had beer and pizza at their usual place. Donsaii’d gotten them the win by hitting a home run each time she was at bat. Those drove in five more runs.

  One time the opposing pitcher’d tried to walk her by throwing high pitches.

  Donsaii’d just stretched up and blasted the third over-lofted pitch despite the fact that it would’ve been a ball.

  Hit the hell out of it too, Jim thought, remembering how it’d sailed the fence and out into traffic.

  At some point in the evening, Donsaii sat down across from Jim. “How do you pronounce ‘Funteims’?” she’d asked.

  “Either way. Fun-times or Fun-teams,” he’d told her.

  She’d split out a huge crooked smile. “I love it,” she’d said, eyes twinkling.

  Even though everyone there worked for Donsaii, they all truly enjoyed the time they spent with her that evening. The girl might be an incredible athlete, but she was humble and self-deprecating and funny and… and she bought everyone’s beer and pizza.


  Jim shook his head morosely. But there’s no way I’m gonna be able to talk her into joining the Funteims for good, he thought.

  ***

  Carley woke to a pounding on their front door. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed. When she opened her bedroom door, she found her new roommate, Diane, already peering out of hers. Feeling ashamed, Carley said, “It’s probably Eli. Sorry.”

  Unsmilingly, Diane said, “This can’t go on.”

  “I know,” Carley said as she walked across the main room to the outside door. I know, but I don’t know what to do about it. Leaning up against the door, she said, “Eli?”

  “Yeah, the goddamned house AI won’t let me in!”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I am not! I only had a couple of beers.”

  “You promised me you wouldn’t drink at all. No beers.”

  “I was talking to a guy about a job. I offered him a beer to… To show him I was a good guy. I had to have one myself to be sociable.”

  “You shouldn’t be looking for the kind of jobs where buying the boss a beer gets you in.”

  After a moment of silence, Eli said, “You gonna let me in, or not?”

  “Not. We’ve talked about this.”

  The loud bang of Eli slamming his fist on the door startled her into jumping back. He said, “Why you gotta be such a bitch?”

  Furious, Carley said, “Why you gotta be such a drunk?” When a couple of minutes had passed without any response from Eli, she sagged against the door and whispered, “Why you gotta be so much like our dad?”

  After another minute of silence, she went back to bed. She had a hard time getting to sleep, worrying about what Eli was going to do for a place to stay. He certainly didn’t have money for a hotel. Her last conscious thought was, What if he breaks in…?

  ***

  Zage called down the stairs, “Mom, I can’t find my shorts.”

  “We just got you all new clothes. Wear some of the new pants.”

  “It’s the middle of summer!” he said indignantly. “I got some out and they’re not just long, they’re heavy.”