Pyrolysis and Other Fantastic Tales by Henrique Montserrat Fernandez - HTML preview

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Mining

 

 

I have already had fear of the dark.

When I was younger, it was pure horror.

Teenager, I tried to convince myself saying: “C’mon! I am a man, there’s nothing out there to be afraid” – but to be true, I was just too scared in those situations.

One thousand bad thoughts came up to my mind every time the lights in the cinema were turned off. Candles or any other luminous object could solve anything when there was lack or energy in the barrio I live.

So, when I was twenty-five, the fears disappeared as they had never existed. And I could start working in the asteroids mining with my brothers fearlessly.

 

***

 

- Companion number three doesn’t work, Ton. Do you want to check it out or do I do it?

Ilia, my Ucranian fellowship, always complained about moving his own 1,98m height through the narrow corridors of burden transportation. So I didn’t even answer his questions: I got my tool case and went to the indicated place.

 

Mining carbon in asteroids to martians communities wasn’t exactly what my mother wanted her younger son to do, but for an unemployed geologist and recently space lover, that was the best thing that could ever had happened. So, I followed my brothers in their carreers without making any questions about my decision.

 

My name is Antony, I am 42 years old and I come from a Spanish family of immigrants that went to the extinguished Federative Republic of Brazil in the early 20th century. I’m descendent of one of the few families that survived with no wounds, no genetic failures, after the explosion of the nuclear power stations in Angra dos Reis, in the extinguished State of Rio de Janeiro in 2015, which, according to the legends, was one of the most beautiful places in the world.

 

Our spaceship was called UNE¹ Rarus, mining and containers of eighty meters long equiped with a first generation plasmatic propulsor which almost always works and twenty mining serve-robots, commanded by Asimov XXV, our foreman robot.

 

Ilia is the human pilot, mine engineering and commandant in the free time. I work as a chief officer and we are the unique live beings abroad, but our ants colony.

 

The official commandant, with no good humor of any kind, is a STAR VII navigator computer, to which a mechatronic engineer friend of mine installed a coffee machine eight years ago.

 

Comfort is a banned word in our diccionary. We have exact 1m² to each other to take a rest ventically, what means nothing at all in no gravity and doesn’t bother us that much in our three-months trips, with 2 months of vacation in colonies and 20.000 sunnees per month. UNE is a good boss, though.

 

- Damned companion! – I screamed inside my helmet for myself to listen alone. It was the third time that the companion was working wrong in the month and I was afraid that I couldn’t close it someday and all our abundance could escape from it, which was the greatest companion among the five ones for burden.

 

Half an hour later it seemed it was working well, but this strage feeling of lie I had already felt other times.

 

- OK, Ilia. – I talked through the radio in the helmet. – You can allow the robots to leave now, but I don’t guarantee the repair.

 

Twenty mechanic monsters in drum shapes, with five arms each, left pulling the feet out of the spaceship, me leadering, in direction of an elevation in the south in the small asteroid in which we had landed in some hours before.

 

- Asi – I talked to the robot-master – this great one seems to have much carbon. It’s largest then Mars 12 the double, yet we have extracted two tons of carbon from it!

 

- I think you are right, deoctor. My sensors can identify good concentration of carbon. We didn’t waste plasma uselessly.

 

I liked Asimov. He had some sense of humor, and this I have to admit: scientists in 21th century did a great job with AI – but, sometimes, I was scared being with the serve-robots. They could make come to an end any first good impression of them with their 2,5m height and eternal muteness, though they were only some longer sensory parts of Asimov in fact.

 

***

 

The drills bellowed in silence, I could feel them by the vibration they caused in my feet, and pieces of rocks were catapulted to the space due to the very low gravity in there.

 

- Asi, this carbon is really deep. We’ve been digging for eight hours and there’s not a single signal of it. Are you sure in this area we are going to find something?

 

- Doctor, my sensors indicate carbon fourty meters far, approximately, in the deep. For we have already digged 34,12m, I calculate that in nine minutes we should obtain some results.

 

This delay was killing me. I thought that burden was enough for us to go back to Mars. Our three-month working period was almost ending, just like our fouel, air and food, besides our nerves put daily in stress after twelve land-ins and land-offs.

 

- Doctor, we are almost getting there. – was it my impression or was there some relief in Asi’s tone of voice? Was the delay also affecting him?

 

In that exact moment, a deafening noise fulfilled my helmet making me lose the equilibrium and go to the floor.

 

- What the hell was that, Asi? Are you trying to make me go mad? – I screamed at the robot as soon as I could stand.

 

He promptly answered: - I’m sorry, Doctor. The comunication channel was open and the noise coming from the break of the drill from serve-robot 9 was transmitted.

 

- But how come did it happen? – I screamed. – Those drills are made from the purest titanium! – in that moment I had no idea of what was going on.

 

- I’m afraid to inform – the machine kept on saying – that other three drills were lost. So I interrupted the operation until more data of the digging are obtained. If you want to return to your lodges, I’ll get in touch as soon as I have news about it.

 

What could I do in a situation like this? After all, the robot-master had authonomy to act like this and he knew exactly what he should do. This way, I didn’t make me a fool and returned to the spaceship. I really needed a rest and couldn’t wait to take that damned spacial cloth.

 

***

 

I woke up three hours later with a noise bipping on my ear and a terrible taste in my mouth.

 

- Say it. – I grumbled at the microphone.

 

- Doctor, I already have the results of the completed mediation. – Asi informed with imparcial tone of voice.

 

“The drills were damaged when they were put in contact with an extremely hard material.”

“In this asteroid of approximately four kilometers long, there are about three tons and a half of carbon, what is more than enough to fulfill the space of burden, which is missing, and return to Mars.”

“Nevertheless, we cannot mine this material. Transformations ocurred in the center of a star, which occurred before the transformation of the asteroid, affected the carbon.”

“My afraid is that someday we find other asteroid with irrecoverably altered carbon, too.”

“You understand that this will cause unimaginable disturbs, besides of extreme wastes, during land-in and land-off.” (I could see from far my license fading away...)

“This way, the conclusion is that we cannot, in any way, use the carbon that there is in here due to the fact that it had been completely transformed into diamond.”

 

I just couldn’t believe my ears! What a misfortune! Despite of I knew Asi almost never failed his analisis.

 

Three tons and a half of precious carbon, which didn’t exist in quantity enough in Mars and that was our only one raw material (even to food sintetization), was simply transformed into this scoria called diamond that, in spite of serving to the industry as the hardest material known, couldn’t battle the versatility of its raw material.

 

In Earth, diamonds were produced in a giant scale, with quality much superior than the natural ones and a very cheap price. It couldn’t have happened worse thing to us!

 

- Thank you, Asi. – extremely disappointed, I answered to the robot. – You can enter with the serve-robots now.

 

Next, I called Ilia. – Did you hear Asi’s report? We can say good-bye to our vacation plans, the girls will have to wait other three months to know Luna’s aquarium. We can’t even imagine returning Mars without the burden, UNE doesn’t forgive failures.

 

- What a hell! – the ucranian yelled. – This just could’ve happen to us! All we can do now is to look for anothe asteroid and pray everything is normal in there. – he hept on talking right after, but on a calmer tone of voice. – By the way, companion three doesn’t close, Tony. Do you want to check it out or do I do it?

 

 

 

¹ UNE – United Nations of Earth