Carpathian Forty-Three

Carpathian Forty-Three - Part 4

Alpha and Beta look at each other as the airlock depressurizes then silently clank a high-five before walking out onto the skin of Carpathian 43. It's endearing, something the designers did to humanize the carbon fiber and metal drones. There's no sound to the fist-bump, no air to carry it.

This far from any planet, this far from the Sun, it's inky blackness. Lights on The Twins illuminate the way, the bright, arc-white beacon of the ship pulses every nine-hundred-fifty-eight milliseconds, casting feeble shadows on the surface of the ship. The backup radiators for the Hump's RPS, Radioisotope Power System, the nuggets of plutonium that provide power for the cargo holds of the Hump, are a hundred meters up spine from the airlock. The Twins plod along towards it.

Rhianu settles into their workstation, calling up screens to monitor The Twins and the RPS system. Air handlers whir quietly. A fan at the top of the engineering compartment rattles gently, a worn bearing causing it to jostle as it moves air.

"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Voclain says over the operations loop.

They're watching a feed from The Twins as well, looking at the large metal fins of the radiator. To an untrained eye you couldn't tell there was dust on the fins at all. Alpha switches their eye to infrared, revealing the white splotches of temperature that are holding on to heat. Beta aims their hand and tiny puffs of dark cold blow away the warm dust. It doesn't take much nitrogen to push the dust off the radiator fins.

"Doesn't take much," Rhianu says from engineering.

The Twins make quick work of the cleaning. They're precise, methodical, focused on their task. Alpha spots, Beta cleans. Move onto the next fin. Repeat.

"Rhi, what's that cold spot?" Voclain asks.

"Cold?"

"Three O'clock low on Alpha's feed, by the port ventral gas line."

Alpha turns to focus on what the captain is talking about. A marker appears on the feed, a reminder to examine the curiosity after the radiators are clear.

"Not sure. I'll check that line while The Twins finish up," Rhianu says.

It's not unusual to find other problems when on an EVA, but the crew is focused on the task at hand. They can check on the anomaly when they're done. If it were anything dangerous, I'd know already.

It takes The Twins another twenty minutes to finish up the cleaning on the radiator.

"Ninety-Eight percent efficient," Rhianu says after they've finished.

"Good enough. Bring 'em in," Voclain says.

"Yeah, let's check that spot first."

"Yeah."

The twins trudge to the port ventral gas line. This is the trunk of pipes and plumbing that moves gas across the spine from the command and drive modules and tees off to feed the ring as well. Alpha's infrared does show a dark splotch on one of the pipes, almost a puff of dark cloud. The ship's beacon keeps flashing, casting shadows on the mass of pipes.

"Looks like..." Rhianu says, considering the line.

I know what it is before they do.

"It's a leak in the liquid helium line."

"Yeah," Rhianu says. "Doesn't seem too big. Beta should be able to patch it."

"Shouldn't we have seen a drop in He pressure?" Voclain asks.

"Probably?" Rhianu asks, checking systems on their terminals.

Liquid helium (He) is a coolant used on various systems on the ship. Mostly it's used to keep the quantum computer that houses, well, me operating appropriately.

"Fuck." Rhianu says.

"Problem?" Stephen asks on the line. He's ready to go out and save The Twins if needed.

"The primary He pressure sensor is giving faulty readings."

Sentient Ships operating systems can't shiver. We don't have a spine, besides the one running from command to drive. I shiver, just the same.

"We're at twenty percent optimal pressure and falling slowly," Rhianu says.

Voclain is confused and concerned. They haven't worked out what it means yet. I can see their face on the bridge, their forehead creased in thought.

The coolant that keeps me alive is mostly gone and venting slowly into space.

"Patch –" Voclain starts to say.

"We're ahead of you," Rhianu says as Beta wraps the He line in a tube of carbon fiber sheeting.

I've never faced mortality before. It's... distressing.