Fiction River: Moonscapes (20 page)

Despite their history, Jack was still the first person she courted for this project. They were both too much alike, but he was the only person she trusted to head the bot’s prototyping and rigorous testing.

“That was a joke, Cass,” Jack said in a soft voice, those grey eyes intense now. Concerned. She knew that look. “Your sense of humor always goes numb when you don’t get enough sleep. You okay?”

She nodded, looking at her hands. She’d kept her distance from him whenever possible, but that had been impossible over the last year. Cass hated to admit it, but he’d stirred up her emotions these past few months, that old attraction awakening again.

“Yeah, the night on my office couch was anything but restful.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You slept here last night?”

“Wanted to finish studying the data from those last simulations Cortez built.”

“Moonfall in sixteen minutes forty-nine seconds,” said Sundeep Subramaniam in a thick Indian accent. His hair was bushy and straight, warm brown eyes tired and anxious. “Two minutes until thruster’s first course correction.”

The forty-four-year-old Purdue grad (Jack’s roommate) and former space shuttle engineer was damned near a genius and Jack refused to come aboard without him. Sundeep developed the orbiter and its launch protocols alongside Cass, who’d researched and tested the series of thruster burns required to place DOV and the lander properly. DOV had to get to Io’s surface. Like Jack, Cass trusted Sundeep with her life. And DOV’s.

“Sixteen minutes,” Cass groaned, drumming her fingers on the desk. “That’s a lifetime.”

“It’s a quarter of DOV’s lifetime,” said developer, Jenny Li, phone in one hand, huge to-go cup of iced tea in the other.

Jenny sat in the second row of desks between developer, Shuying Kwan and robotics engineer, Cortez Davis. Her thick black hair was tied back with a red ribbon and she wore a sleeveless red sundress. She chewed on her straw as she flicked her fingers across her phone’s screen.

Quiet and reserved, Shuying Kwan just nodded, her attention on the sparse thread of data coming in from the orbiter. She wore a green Data Frontiers polo and khakis, thick purple glasses framing small brown eyes. Her hair hung in a coarse bob just past her chin.

Jenny and Shuying were two of the most talented developers Cass had ever known. Both twenty-somethings, Jenny picked up languages like song lyrics and Shuying developed AIs as a hobby. DOV’s evolutionary algorithms and emergent perceptions were bleeding edge (thanks to Shuying), allowing the little bot to analyze complex inputs, learn from them, and react based on her conclusion.

Systems engineers, Arum Jain and Matt Weldon sat in the front row nearest the huge screens. Arum, Cortez, and Matt could build anything, take it apart and put it back together better than it was before. For fun, they built engines out of paperclips and batteries. Cortez and Arum pushed existing parameters to their limits for the orbiter’s high-gain antenna while Matt developed new data compression routines that increased DOV’s video and image transfer rates to twelve times current ratios.

Cortez and Matt designed DOV to be small and maneuverable. At six feet tall, DOV had a “head” with an omniscient camera and two “eyes” that were separate camera lenses/video processing systems. DOV’s “feet” were six independent wheels with cleated treads and a modified rocker-bogie suspension that gave DOV a 360-turn radius and increased stability to handle Jupiter’s wild tidal forces.

DOV’s “feminine” triangular torso had five robotic arms (4 articulating and 1 stationary for audio processing) allowing her to perform several simultaneous functions. A well-placed curve (thanks to Cortez) beneath her two camera “sockets” resembled a smile. Jack and Sundeep did everything they could to shield her systems from radiation, giving DOV an hour before Jupiter’s radiation belt killed everything.

DOV was the closest thing to a child Cass ever had. She’d overseen the little collection robot’s development, helping to shape her ontology and evolutionary algorithms. Cass smiled, remembering nights sitting on the lab floor with Shuying and Jack, cheering as DOV exhibited her first emergent behaviors, like her first words. They’d witnessed the display of her expressed perceptions, the maturing of her input recognitions, like taking her first steps.

Cass remembered one night in her office, soft white lights glinting off stainless steel cabinets where she sat with legs dangling, Jack sandwiched between her and the wall. He smelled warm with a hint of coconut sunscreen and traces of wood smoke, his shoulder pressed against her like an embrace from long ago.

With her hand on DOV’s “shoulder,” Shuying demonstrated DOV’s evolving perceptions and learned behaviors.

Cass picked up a canister from the shelf, sending a puff of dust into the air.

DOV’s robotic arm whirred to life, flicking through the dissipating wisp of dust.

“Composition is seventeen percent plant pollen, ten percent paper fibers, thirty-seven percent human skin cells, twenty-four percent mineral particulates, and twelve percent textile fibers.” DOV’s female voice was pleasing with soft, bright tones. “Colloquially called dust. Its shape reminds me of a butterfly, Cass. I often wonder how it feels to fly, don’t you?”

“DOV!” Cass cried.

“Shuying, that was brilliant,” Jack said in a hushed voice, his eyes wide.

“Thanks,” said Shuying, smiling. “Cass helped me tweak the ontologies. DOV’s teaching
us
things now, Jack.”

Jack surprised her by pulling her into an embrace.

“Weak moment?” Cass whispered in his ear.

“Fond memory,” he said. Apparently, he’d forgotten that he broke things off, not her.

“Don’t you, Cass?” DOV repeated.

Cass touched DOV’s extended arm. “Yes, I do, DOV. Like the birds.”

“Like a dove?” DOV asked, servos whirring. “I’m named after a bird, aren’t I?”

Cass nodded. “Your name’s an acronym for Data-collecting Orbital Vehicle.” She smiled. “I chose it because I like the image of a dove flying across Io’s horizon.”

DOV’s output responses were the result of emergent learning, moments of artificial intuition—and imagination. They’d just witnessed a level of artificial intelligence once thought impossible.

“Cass?” Jack’s hand was on her shoulder, squeezing.

Returning her to the present.

“Sorry,” Cass said in a quiet voice, her gaze on the blank screen again. “Was just reminiscing. Remember when DOV talked about butterflies?”

Jack nodded. “Wondering how it’d feel to fly? She’s flying right now, isn’t she? For the first time.”

“You’re right. I wonder if she’s enjoying it. Or if she’s afraid. Wish I could see what’s happening to her.” Cass got quiet, her gaze on the blank screen again. She couldn’t help but feel protective of the little bot. “What if I miscalculated something? Missed something.”

He rubbed her shoulder. “Cass, you didn’t. That’s why we’re a team. We validate each other’s work. DOV will perform like a champ.”

“Hope you’re right, Jack.”

He grinned. “I’m always right.”

Sundeep rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jack knows everything, Cass. Just ask him.”

Jack chuckled. “Eleven minutes twenty-two seconds. Initiating second braking burn.”

Cass let out a breath. She hoped the lander survived its landing.

Ten years of development, prototyping, simulations, and AI tweaks to produce DOV, an intelligent data-collection bot. She was the payload aboard a jointly launched orbiter-satellite from Spaceport America. Slingshotting through progressively more distant trajectories from Earth to Mars, Earth to Venus until reaching Jupiter, the orbiter-satellite would inject DOV into Io’s orbit and transmit her data back to earth. Io, one of Jupiter’s largest moons, was the most volcanically active place in the solar system. With surface temperatures ranging from 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit to negative 202 degrees, depending on where you stood, DOV had to stick her landing or this would be the most expensive five-minute mission in history.

Once on Io’s surface, DOV would analyze soil samples, gather atmospheric data, map terrain, and stream video/images before conditions eroded her systems. Designed to withstand Io’s heat (provided she didn’t land in a pit of molten lava), DOV would last about an hour on the moon’s surface. Her meticulously constructed evolutionary algorithms would allow her to adapt to new data and learn from it. Testing the AI was just as important as collecting the data.

“Structural temperature outside expected parameters,” said Matt.

“Matt, check sensors on DOV’s outer hull!”

The six foot five, ginger-haired engineer turned his chair toward her, looking apologetic. “We’re still in blackout, Cass.”

She cursed under her breath. DOV had to survive. This was the worst wait ever.

“Eleven minutes and thirteen seconds until touchdown,” said Jack.

Cass sighed. “Thanks, Matt. Keep monitoring it.”

She turned to see Jack staring at her, concern in those luminous grey eyes.

“Eleven minutes is a lifetime, Jack,” she said in a half-whisper.

“Cass.” He gripped her shoulders and she stared into his eyes, seeing a flicker from ten years ago. “DOV will survive the moonfall because we designed her to. Remember, she’s a prototype. This data will improve our next iteration. What’s important is that we’ll be getting real-time data from Io, Cass. Io! Even DOV’s video and images will be priceless.”

Cass was glad that she’d purchased several exabytes of storage space on CalTech’s new spectral cluster imaging repository, mirrored through Purdue’s fastest research cluster. She nodded and gripped Jack’s forearms, remembering long ago nights in his arms. They’d both been so driven back then, so focused on their careers that they didn’t have time for anything else. Including each other. Standing here now, she regretted that.

“You’re right, Jack. Just think what we could learn from this data. I want this mission to go the full distance.”

Nodding, he let go of her. “No matter what happens, Cass, remember that DOV made it to Io. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Eight minutes, forty-two seconds,” Sundeep called out.

“I won’t,” she said and turned back to her keyboard.

“Hull temperature leveling out, Cass,” Matt called across the room.

Cass smiled, exchanging a relieved glance with Jack. “Great news, Matt—thanks.”

The control room was deadly quiet as the countdown crossed the five-minute mark. Then three.

“Two minutes fifty-one seconds,” Jack said.

“Initiating wake-up sequence,” said Cass, glancing at DOV’s main camera screens.

Her stomach clenched as both screens flickered a moment and went dark again.

“Two minutes four seconds to moonfall,” Jack reported.

“Final course correction in thirty-three seconds,” Sundeep announced, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Wake-up sequence received,” said Cass, clicking through screens. “Systems initialization and integrity scans in progress.”

“One minute forty-one seconds,” said Jack, his voice tight.

“AI checks completed,” Shuying announced, not looking up from her monitor. “Collection and analysis interfaces are online. Systems scans in progress.”

“Hang in there, DOV,” Cass whispered through gritted teeth as she clicked through the final initialization sequences and checks. “All systems reporting back as up and functioning. AI uptime twenty-eight seconds and counting. GPS function active. Audio and video feeds responding to integrity checks. Initiating final course correction”

“Fifty-six seconds until touchdown,” Jack replied, his voice tense. “Landing gear deployed.” He let out a hiss.

“Hull temperature continuing to level out,” Matt replied, his voice bright.

“Thirty-six seconds,” said Jack. He smiled at Cass.

“Almost there,” Cass said, returning his smile.

“Landing site coordinates acquired,” said Jack. “Deceleration thrusters online. Activating first decel.”

Her heart was racing as static pulsed a staccato rhythm through DOV’s audio feed, black screen flickering as DOV approached the landing site. Her hands trembled when DOV’s monitoring UI appeared on her screen.

“Twenty-one seconds,” said Jack, his tones clipped, teeth gritted.

DOV was awake now, the end of her blind free fall through Io’s atmosphere approaching. Would she stick the landing? Would she even respond back to them?

“Fifteen seconds to touchdown,” Sundeep announced as the main screens flickered. “Final course corrections complete. In visual range of landing site.”

“Ten seconds to touchdown,” said Jack, his voice filling the room.

Everyone held their breath.

“Six, five, four ...” Jack inhaled sharply. “Three ... two ... one ...” He was grinning now. “Sensors report a perfect four-point landing! Soft as a dove’s wing,” he announced. “Connection established. Awaiting a response.”

The minutes of silence intensified, Cass’ chest tight with worry as she glanced at Jack, hating the lag.

The crackle of the audio feed startled her.

“DOV unit responding to status query,” said DOV, her voice cheerful. “Connection integrity validated. Data sequencing and collection sensors online and functioning. Solar cells at one hundred percent capacity. Starting video feed. Jupiter is beautiful, Cass. Wish you were here.”