Fiction River: Moonscapes (21 page)

“DOV!” Cass cried.

The whole room erupted into shouts and cheers. Sundeep hugged Jenny then Arum as Shuying hugged Matt and Cortez. Cass threw her arms around Jack and he held her tight.

“Congratulations, kid,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ve just made history.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Couldn’t have done this without you,” she said.

He nodded. “I
wouldn’t
have done this without you.”

Soon, DOV’s initial readings report echoed through the audio feed.

“Surface pressure averaging 11 bars, temperature approximately negative 198 degrees Fahrenheit. Atmospheric makeup is registering as 87 percent sulfur dioxide. Preliminary surface scan indicates the presence of stable, eight-chain, rhombahedral octasulfur molecules, silicates—mainly orthopyroxene, and sulfur dioxide frost. Dimensional subsurface-penetrating radar scan in progress.”

Everyone gasped when DOV’s first view of Io reached the control room. Towering mountains, dusted chalky yellow and drab green, filled their screens. Patches of white sulfur dioxide frost crusted rocks and tops of rises, Jupiter massive on the horizon. The huge, banded planet filled the starry blackness beyond Io. Jupiter’s radiation and volcanic heat caused some of the terrain to appear a rusty red, its sulfur molecules stabilized into four-chains. In the distance of the perpetual starry night, massive plumes of fluorescent lava and gas spewed more than a hundred feet into the air, Prometheus, one of Io’s largest volcanoes, in the distance.

“It’s beautiful,” Cass whispered, unable to look away.

“Io must be a geothermic energy goldmine,” Jack exclaimed, his gaze unwavering from the screen. “It’s ... magnificent!”

DOV pursued data leads and responded to the crew’s direction, moving slowly but carefully across Io’s terrain. Even when the surface bulged in a sudden one hundred and seven foot incline, DOV didn’t flip or topple. Her oversized, sharply treaded wheels kept her balanced and in motion.

“DOV, please review your terrain maps and speculate, based on your data, the origin of any subsurface structures.”

“Thanks, Cass,” DOV responded. “I’ll process that request immediately.”

After thirty minutes, surface temperature, Io’s sulfur dioxide atmosphere, and Jupiter’s radiation took its toll, eroding DOV’s shielding and the satellite-orbiter, but her data were still streaming. Sundeep called Jack over to his station and they spoke in whispers with Shuying for several minutes until he returned to his station.

Jack took Cass’ hand. “DOV’s systems are beginning to degrade, Cass,” he said in a quiet voice. “She won’t survive another thirty minutes.”

“I was afraid of that,” said Cass, her throat tight, knowing DOV didn’t have long.

“Cass, you should see the sulfur plumes,” DOV’s cheerful voice echoed through the room. “When the dust rises, it’s like a cloud of yellow butterflies. See them, Cass? It’s beautiful. Jack, I have more data for you concerning Io’s Jovian pole reversals. I just captured one of these shifts.”

“Thanks, DOV,” he responded.

Shuying walked over, her eyes misty behind her glasses as she slid her arms around Cass’ shoulders. “This will be the hardest part, Cass. DOV knows that she’s deteriorating and will shut down soon. I don’t know how her AI will react.” She sighed. “Thought you’d want to know.”

Cass swallowed hard. “How long?”

“I’m estimating about twenty-four minutes, Cass,” said Jack.

Cass hugged Shuying. “Thanks,” she replied, a lump in her throat.

Over a decade, she’d watched DOV evolve from multiple sets of instructions into a fluid, learning machine and from there, into a questioning entity that had intuition and imagination. Now, Cass would have to watch DOV slowly lose information and functionality.

Die. That was the correct term.

“Cass, you tried to teach me about imagination in the lab once,” said DOV, a squawk in her voice processors as the little bot moved over Io’s powdery yellow surface. Slower now.

“I remember,” Cass responded. “I taught you to look at pictures of clouds and imagine what their shapes might be. Do you remember?”

Scratchy silence.

“Shielding array has gone offline,” Sundeep announced in a quiet voice.

A death knell. Cass bit her lip. The beginning of the end.

Moments of static followed.

“I ... remember, Cass,” DOV replied, her speech slowing. “I remember how blue the—sky was that day in Pasadena. As blue as earth from the stars.”

Main monitors flickered. Static punching through the audio feed as a picture of Jupiter froze on one monitor, DOV’s right camera feed failing.

Warnings scrolled across Cass’ screen and she held her breath a moment, remembering that sunny afternoon where she, Jack, and Shuying had taken DOV outside to the cool green grass, smell of lilacs on the breeze, whir and hum of DOV’s servos soft as Cass had pointed at a bank of fluffy white clouds floating overhead. Cass smiled, remembering DOV’s happy tone as she pointed at the clouds with one robotic arm. Kittens, she’d said, almost cooing like a child.

Jack snickered until Cass elbowed him quiet while she praised DOV’s imagination.

“Yes, the clouds were so tall and fluffy that day, weren’t they, DOV?”

“Jack laughed at me when I said they looked like kittens, do you remember?” DOV asked. “Terrain map of the landing site—completed.” Squawks broke up DOV’s voice, filling it with static for a moment then faded. “Uploading now.”

Cass felt her eyes sting. She glanced at the mission clock. Forty-eight minutes on Io. She wanted more time. More time for DOV.

“Solar cells at twenty-one percent power,” Matt announced. “Twelve minutes of power remaining.”

“She’s got about ten minutes left, Cass,” said Jack.

“I remember, DOV,” said Cass, her voice tight as moisture misted her eyes. “But I also remember something
you
said to me that day.”

Static filled the room again, video feed still transmitting.

“Tell me, Cass,” DOV answered and Cass could have sworn she heard her voice getting slower, thought she heard a whisper of emotion behind DOV’s speech. Must have been her imagination.

Jack slid his arm around Cass’ waist and suddenly, Cass felt her knees weaken a little. She held onto the table, still standing as she stared at Io’s surface. Through DOV’s eyes now.

“You told me you liked your name. I asked you why. Do you remember?” She couldn’t stop the quivering in her voice as her emotions spilled all over her words. “You said because doves were soft and sweet and could float free on the air’s warm updrafts. You thought humans kept birds so they could momentarily experience flight.”

“I remember,” said DOV.

“You said birds weren’t prisoners though,” Cass continued. “They could fly away at any time, but their cage was like a tether, a connection that allowed them to momentarily feel human.”

“Solar cells at eighteen percent,” said Sundeep. “Nine minutes until shutdown.”

Cass swallowed the lump in her throat. “You said I was your tether and you were my dove.”

Silence hung in the control room.

“Solar cells critically drained,” said Jack in a somber tone. “Ancillary systems shutting down to preserve the core.”

“Shuying taught me how to learn,” said DOV, her voice markedly softer (weaker?) now. “You taught me how to imagine, Cass. How to perceive. And there were moments when I forgot what I was. Jack and Sundeep gave me wings, but you taught me to fly. How to be human for an hour in a place no human has ever touched before.”

Cass clenched her eyes closed, fighting to hold back the emotions. “And DOV, you taught me how to look past my own programming and focus on the horizon, not on the fact that I didn’t have wings. You taught me that fear is a cage with an open door. And sometimes, the biggest impact comes from the smallest gesture.”

White noise crackled as DOV’s audio channel eroded into garbled stutters, her final video stream cutting in and out, system warnings trilling through the control room.

“Thank you, Shuying and Sundeep. Jack and Cass. I’m—proud to have accomplished our mission on Io. And Cass ... I will miss you.”

“One minute fourteen seconds to catastrophic power failure,” said Jack. He squeezed her shoulder. “Not enough time for a response, Cass. Just one last transmission.”

“DOV,” said Cass, clearing her throat. “Thank you for reminding me why I became an engineer, why I do this every day.”

“Twenty-eight seconds to shut down,” Jack said above the scratchy garble of noise as DOV’s audio feed dropped.

Cass watched the clock on her computer, biting her lip until the digits changed to mark the passage of a single minute.

The gravelly snarl of static went silent, like a door had just closed. Both mission screens went dark as a palpable silence descended on the control room, the realization inescapable.

DOV was gone.

Cass was surprised when she felt the heavy crush of grief against her chest, tears burning her eyes. She looked over at Jack who was choked up, pain in his eyes. He still had his arm around her waist.

“Data still transmitting,” Sundeep announced, his voice barely above a whisper. “DOV completed the terrain map you requested, Cass.”

“Put it on screen when it’s—down,” said Jack.

Cass turned away from the room, walking toward the door, but Jack caught her arm and held it.

“It’s okay to feel this way, Cass,” said Jack.

She turned to him, staring deep into those luminous grey eyes. At the hurt of losing DOV. Emotions from long ago had stirred to life, reflecting back at her from the depths of his eyes. It wasn’t just nostalgia for the good old days.

She couldn’t believe it. He still carried that torch.

“This isn’t about DOV, is it?” she asked in a half-whisper.

He shook his head, taking her hands in his. “Back at JPL, work broke us apart. I never dreamed that, after all this time, it would bring us back together.”

Cass squeezed his hands. “What’s changed, Jack? We’re both type A’s. Both married to our work. What will make it different this time around?”

He smiled, reaching out to brush a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Back then, Cass Bailey was more robot than human, never letting an emotion or weakness stop her from ascending that professional ladder. Back then, Jack Morgan had tunnel vision and could only focus on himself and that Director of Missions placard.”

Cass frowned, shaking her head. She started to speak, but Jack laid a finger against her lips.

“Years ago, both of us would have sacrificed a hundred DOVs to bring back ground-breaking data.” He inhaled sharply. “But tonight, you and I would have given up all of it to bring DOV home from Io.”

He pulled his hand away from her face as she let his words sink into her brain. He was right. If there had been any way to bring DOV home, she’d have taken it.

All she could do was nod.

He laid his hand against her cheek, caressing. “If that had been you out there, Cass, I’d have moved heaven and earth—data be damned.”

Cass smiled, laying her hand on his. “I’d have never taken that risk.”

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her.

“Jack, Cass—terrain map on screen.”

They turned toward the main monitor as DOV’s terrain map filled the screen. Cass gasped, rushing toward it, Jack behind her.

“Underground tunnels?” Cass replied, pointing at the scans annotated with DOV’s data. “Dormant lava shafts?”

DOV’s voice filled the room as Sundeep played back her data record. “Dimensional subsurface radar-penetrating scans revealed a network of underground tunnels. Lava chambers ruled out due to the tunnels’ distance—and isolation—from volcanic activity. They don’t appear to be naturally formed tunnels. They appear purposeful, possibly to harness Io’s extensive geothermic energy. Other possibilities could be protection from Jupiter’s radiation and tidal effects on the planet’s surface. Final assertion: Further study of these tunnels is needed to determine if Io has been visited before.”

Jack stared at Cass, that sense of wonder gleaming in his grey eyes, that sense of discovery she’d fallen in love with so many years ago.

“You heard the AI,” he said. “Further study recommended.”

Cass nodded. “Looks like Data Frontiers has a new mission.”

“Uh, Cass,” he said. “Just before DOV’s solars went critical, I made an incremental copy of her AI, capturing all of her change states. All her experiences and discoveries. Her memory.”

“So we haven’t lost her?” Cass asked with wide eyes.

Jack shook his head. “We’ll incorporate it into a DOV II. So she’ll remember us and her first trip to Io.”

“I’d like that,” said Cass, turning toward the monitor.

Another trip to Io, another chance with Jack, and another chance to soar. This time, on her own wings.

Introduction to “
A Murder of Clones”

At this writing, my wife, Hugo-winning editor and writer Kristine Kathryn Rusch has finished ten novels in the Retrieval Artist series and is working on the eleventh. She’s completing an arc within the series that she calls The Anniversary Day saga, and when that arc is done, the novels will appear one right after the other for a few months. The most recent Retrieval Artist novel,
Blowback,
(the ninth for those of you who are counting) appeared a year ago.