Clarkesworld Magazine Issue 56 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, fantasy, magazine, short story, clarkesworld, science fiction magazine, Hugo Award, fantasy magazine
Publisher: Wyrm Publishing
Published: 2011-04-30T04:00:00+00:00

“There’s no time,” Trent said. He coughed again. The cough had become more insistent over the last few weeks. More painful, too. Carter kept nagging him to slow down, to rest, but it had been nearly ten years already. He had to keep to Irene’s schedule.

“A little time now,” Chen said, setting his datapad down on Trent’s coffee table, “or a hundred years later.”

Trent’s living room had become the project’s hub. The furniture was crowded by computers, displays, and bubble tanks. Bishop Industries no longer existed. Trent had killed it, but it had been left to Carter to slice its carcass up and feed it to the markets. It had taken years and had nearly destroyed the Lunar Republic’s entire economy in the process. Trent himself had been too focused on Irene to notice.

“Show me,” Trent said.

Chen just pointed to the datapad. “Run the sim,” he said. “Plasma physics plus fluid dynamics equals cauliflower.”

Trent tapped the datapad’s screen. A funnel shape appeared, ejecting a simulated ion stream. It was the business end of Irene’s engine. A power meter climbed steadily from thirty to forty percent. When it reached fifty, the stream began to fray along the edges. As the power increased, so did the turbulence, until it became a diffuse, boiling cloud.

“It’s the bell,” Chen said. “We need to redesign it. Above forty-eight percent power, most of the thrust is lost to turbulence.” He paused for a moment. “Long term, it could also cause significant damage.”

“How long?” Trent’s cough interrupted him, the fit lasting several seconds. Carter brought him a cup of water and held it while he drank. Trent sipped then nodded his thanks.

Carter set the cup on the table and went back to his seat. “Go on,” he said to Chen.

“There’s no telling,” Chen said. “We’re in new territory. Months, at least. The solution could be in the shape. It could be polish or materials. Nano-structure surfacing, maybe. I just don’t know yet.”

Valikova leaned forward in her seat. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why now? Why Irene and not Diaspora?”

Chen just looked down at his hands. Trent, too, refused to meet her gaze. “Well?” she said.

Finally, Chen cleared his throat and spoke. “They never ran a full-power test,” he said. “No budget for it. No time on the schedule.”

“Then they’re­ — ”

“They’re fine,” Carter said. He glanced at Trent, who looked away, fixing his gaze on the datapad and its churning flood of simulated plasma. “Just slower than expected. Marina, you’ll need to adjust the inventory. We’re first wave, now, not second. Find room for the groundbreaking gear we left out — seed stock, hydroponics, water purification. Chen, do what you need to do.”

Chen looked up. “Trent?” he said. “Mr. Bishop?”

Trent finally looked away from the datapad. He focused uncertainly on Carter, but said nothing.

Carter gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ve got this,” he said.

With a tiny nod, Trent swung his gaze toward Chen. “We’ll make it beautiful for her,” he said.

Valikova sat back, sliding down in her seat.

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