Tom Ligon - El Dorado.pdf - Tom Ligon - widez2

EL DORADO

by TOM LIGON

* * * *

Illustration by Vincent Di Fate

* * * *

Heroes don’t always fit the expected image....

Victor Gendeg let his eyes adjust as he studied the jumbled ball of dirty ice

before him. It was illuminated only by starlight, especially by one bright star about

3.3 light-days away, and his eyes strained to make out any detail. He leaned so

close to the window that his breath frosted it. He wiped the white deposit away

and held his breath to gaze at it again.

“Computer, voice log on.”

“That must be it. Classic exit jumble. Definitely had a collision with a smaller,

denser object.”

He checked the magnetometer. Was it just beginning to show a trace of a

magnetic field as he approached it?

“Yes! Magnetic. This has to be it!” He glanced at the monitors, which

showed the object so much clearer than naked human eyes could, then turned

back to the window to gain a more personal connection with the planetesimal.

“Eureka! Right freakin’ where you’re supposed to be! Sumbitch thought you were

pretty sneaky, hiding out in the Oort Cloud, didn’t ya? Well, Victor Gendeg tracked

your banged-up ass down! Four billion years of ducking and hiding, but your ass

is mine now, baby. I am so freakin’ rich the damn Astrofellers are gonna envy me.

I have found El Dorado!”

* * * *

The solar system was young when Jupiter and Saturn migrated into a 2:1

orbital resonance. It was an interesting time for all of the other bodies there.

Chaos reigned until the two giants moved beyond that dance. The two largest

bodies in the system other than the Sun played tug of war in a game Jupiter won

and all of the small bystanders lost.

Two of the worst losers were minor rocky planets, each with a small core of

iron and other metals, and mantles that had already turned to solid stone. They

were set on a collision course. It would not happen for hundreds of millions of

years, but it was inevitable.

When it happened, both bodies shattered their rocky outer layers, exposing

their metal cores. Pieces showered away from the impact in many directions,

some into the depths of space, some into the inner system, where they would

eventually meet a dramatic end. Some pelted the third planet and its moon, part

of what its later inhabitants would call the “late heavy bombardment.” Many

simply formed a belt, shepherded into shape by resonance with Jupiter and a few

other significant orbs. One of the cores stayed safely in the belt, covered in a thick

layer of rubble from the collision, some its own, and some from the other

unfortunate body. The other was in an elliptical orbit that flirted dangerously with

the dominant gas giant. It was similarly covered with debris, and had an

entourage of orbiting fragments of the same sort.

* * * *

Victor waited impatiently for his small ship to maneuver to a gentle landing

on the icy body. The magnetometer was unambiguous now. This ball of ice had an

iron core, no doubt about it at all. Here, in one body, was everything needed to

build a new city in space. A city? “Hell, I could build a whole bloody nation with

that mutha! That thing must be as big as any core ever discovered. There must be

more metal in that thing than ever was squeezed out of Earth’s crust. And man,

look at the ice readings. The collision must have distilled this thing like a damn

refinery! Juicy, dripping, soaking damned full of deuterium and helium-3. I am so

freakin’ rich I’m gonna be the damned emperor of this god-forsaken blighted

wasteland. And with medical technology today, heck, they’re increasing life

expectancy faster than a person ages! If you’ve got the money, maybe you can

live forever! Imagine, Victor, the Immortal Emperor of Oort! Ah, life is sweet!”

He glanced at his communications panel nervously. More chatter on the net

showed on the display. With objects out in the Cloud averaging tens of millions of

kilometers apart, on the order of a light-minute, voice communications were rare.

Instead, most messages were text with attachments, in the form of e-mail and

forum posts. The other slackers operating out here were all gaga over the beam of

radio signals coming from a couple of light-decades away. Let them waste their

time.

“So what if there’s somebody saying ‘hi’ out there? As long as it keeps their

attention off me until I can validate my claim. Dumb bastards haven’t got a clue

where I’ve snuck off to. Let’s take a minute or two and keep it that way.” He

sprang ever so gently over to his comm panel in the gravity that almost was not

there, and settled in front of the keyboard.

Victor had scheduled the last stop of his flight plan as a visit to a rather

boring little ball of ice that had drifted near Rendezvous 3 Station, a mere sixteen

million kilometers away. The other net participants expected he would land his

little explorer and have his robots bore into it and see if it held any worthwhile ices

or rock dust. They would expect his communications to be sporadic, but would

expect an occasional check-in. The last thing Victor wanted was a rescue party to

come after him, so he left a communications relay and his transponder on the little

comet, taking only enough ice from it that he could afford a long, hard blast of

compressed gas to move him well away from the body. And then, when far

enough away that nobody was likely to notice, he goosed the fusion reactors to a

low burn, and fed a rich dose of reaction mass into the relativistic electron beam

that generated his thrust, and snuck away to investigate the more distant object

only he recognized as special.

Had anyone been deliberately monitoring, the ploy would not have worked.

But there were only a handful of ships operating out of Rendezvous. No traffic

control system was needed, and the ships generally stayed in touch voluntarily.

The volume of space they explored was vast and lonely, and they had no one to

depend on but each other.

“Yeah, like I figured. The idiots are all looking for little green men instead of

exploring. Well, hell, guess I would too if I didn’t have the discovery of a thousand

lifetimes a few kilometers away. They’ll probably think I’m a doofus if I don’t

chime in. Better read up. Huh? Crap! Well, no damned wonder they’re so worked

up.”

* * * *

Rockhound: SEARCHER, WHERE YOU AT FELLA? THE SETI LEAGUE HAS

INCOMING FOR YOU.

Searcher: JUST GOT IT ROCKDOG. HOLD YOUR HORSES, THIS IS A BIG

MUTHA FILE, AND ENCRYPTED. SO, LET’S SEE IF I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT IT ...

YEAH, IT’S NOT CLASSIFIED, THEY JUST WANT ME TO SEE IT FIRST. HEY, IT’S

FROM DR. SETI HIMSELF! UH ... HOLY CRAP, DOG, THE LEAGUE’S ANALYSIS TEAM

IS ACTUALLY STARTING TO MAKE A LITTLE SENSE OUT OF THAT SIGNAL. IT

EVIDENTLY CONTAINS SOME KIND OF ROSETTA STONE. THE TROUBLE IS, WITH

THE ROSETTA STONE WE KNEW ONE OF THE LANGUAGES. WITH THIS ONE, THEY

ONLY HAVE A VAGUE IDEA OF A FEW WORDS BECAUSE THEY’RE ACCOMPANIED

BY PICTURES. WTF!?? BUT HE SAYS THEY THINK THE TRANSMISSION IS—HOLD

ON TO YOUR HELMET—A religious TRACT! ROFL!

Iceman: AAARGH! JUST OUR LUCK! WE GOT NEIGHBORS AND THEY’RE

BLOODY DAMNED REORGANIZED BORN-AGAIN SEVENTH-DAY ALIEN

EVANGELISTS!

ANYBODY HEARD FROM WIENER LATELY? THAT BOY NEEDS TO GET HIS

HEAD OUT OF THE ICE MORE AND LOOK AROUND. ALL THIS GOING ON AND ALL

HE CAN THINK ABOUT IS MAKING HOLES. DON’T ‘PRECIATE HOW SPECIAL THIS

PLACE IS.

* * * *

“Victor, dammit. Not Winner. Not Wiener.” But Victor kept the sentiment to

himself. The delight the other prospectors took in his objections to the nickname

was the very reason they insisted on it.

Wiener: I’M HERE, ICE. BEEN DOWN THE BORE FREEING A STUCK ‘BOT.

Iceman: YOU MAKE US NERVOUS, KID. LEAVE IT, SEND IN ANOTHER ONE.

UNLESS, OF COURSE, IT FOUND SOMETHING GOOD. YOU FIND SOME METAL?

Iceman: WIENER? WHERE’D YOU GO, BOY?

Wiener: SORRY. GOT BUSY FIXING SOMETHING AND WASN’T WATCHING

THE SCREEN. ASTRONOMER METAL MAYBE, NOT ENGINEER METAL. THIS BALL OF

ICE HAS ENOUGH SILICON CARBIDE IN IT TO SET UP A SANDPAPER FACTORY. IT’S

EATING UP HARDWARE.

Iceman: SCREW THAT. THERE ARE A TRILLION OTHER TARGETS UP HERE, AT

LEAST HALF OF THEM A BETTER BET. YOU BEEN OUT A LONG TIME. COME ON

BACK TO RENDEZVOUS AND RUN SOME LAPS IN GRAVITY.

Iceman: OH WEEEE-NER? DURN, THE BOY HAS A SHORT ATTENTION SPAN.

Wiener: GOT BUSY AGAIN. I CAN’T SPARE THE ‘BOT. YOU EVER TRY

GETTING WARRANTY REPAIRS DONE UP HERE? I ALMOST HAVE IT FREE, JUST

CAME UP FOR SOME TOOLS. LOOK, I KNOW SOME OF YOU OLD FARTS GOT

NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN STARE AT A SCREEN WAITING FOR CHAT, BUT CUT

ME SOME SLACK IF I DON’T ALWAYS GET RIGHT BACK TO YOU, OKAY?

Iceman: UNDERSTOOD. WELL, GET BACK HERE BEFORE YOUR BONES TURN

TO MUSH. OF COURSE, IF THAT HAPPENS, THAT’S A SWEET LITTLE RIG YOU FLY.

I’M SURE I’LL FIND A TAKER FOR HER.

Wiener: I’M GETTING MY EXERCISE POINTS. I THINK YOU JUST WANT

ANOTHER STOOL KEPT WARM IN YOUR BAR.

Iceman: LOL! WELL, THAT TOO. BUT TRUST ME, TUGGING ON RUBBER

BANDS HALF AN HOUR A DAY AIN’T THE SAME AS GRAVITY, EVEN THE ARTIFICIAL

KIND. THAT’S HOW COME I DON’T GO OUT ANYMORE, I WAS SCREWING UP MY

WHOLE MUSCULAR-SKELETAL WHO-HAH. THE CLOUD HAS BEEN HERE A THIRD

THE AGE OF THE UNIVERSE. IT’LL KEEP. NO GOOD STRIKING IT RICH IF YOU’RE

NOTHING BUT A SACK OF RUBBER. COME ON BACK WHEN YOU GET A CHANCE

AND WE’LL ALL RAISE A TOAST TO GETTING A PHONE CALL FROM ET.

Wiener: I WILL SOON, BUT I’VE GOT BILLS TO PAY. C U LATER.

* * * *

The core made thousands of orbits before the fateful encounter. It finally

came too close to Jupiter. The giant tugged on it, changing its direction. The

hundreds of tiny pieces of debris orbiting the core swung off into a spiral string of

pearls, but generally tagged along behind the larger body, as it made one final

loop around the gas giant. The next pass was very close, nearly a plunge into the

deep atmosphere and oblivion. Instead, it swung sharply around the ponderous

planet, and, like a skater grabbing a handle on a moving Zamboni, changed its

direction. It acquired more velocity in the direction of Jupiter’s orbit, but also was

pitched to an angle above the ecliptic. In this maneuver, two things happened.

First, the core acquired more speed, almost enough to escape the Sun’s gravity

entirely. Second, the huge tidal forces tugged at the covering of debris. Some

pieces came free, and the core acquired spin as the resulting imbalance swung

into the steep gradient of Jupiter’s gravity well. As it departed the big planet, more

and more pieces of rock flew off from the equator, and other pieces tumbled to

replace those lost. Some of the escapees crashed back to the surface, knocking off

more pieces. Others escaped the feeble gravity of the core and began spreading

out from it. All were heading in roughly the same direction, toward the cold, dark,

almost empty outer reaches of the solar system.

Victor could barely contain his excitement as the ship settled the last few

meters to the surface of the icy planetoid, and held his breath as he felt the soft

crunch of the pads settling into the texture of old snow. While the computer ran

Tom Ligon - El Dorado.pdf

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