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Narrative

A Tidbit of Good News

“Some of the dirtside solar astronomers are thinking this CME is just the first of several, based on some satellite data on the Sun’s magnetic field behavior. I spoke to Dr. Doorne this morning and she doesn’t think any subsequent ones are likely to hit the Earth-Moon system. However, she added the caveat that she is a radio astronomer specializing in deep-space objects.” Ken Redmond looked from Brenda to Autumn. “I wish I could offer you ladies something more solid, but right now that’s all we have to go on. Which means that we’re going to have to remain prepared for the possibility of additional solar storms, maybe for the next two to three weeks. I’ve already ordered conservation measures to stretch supplies of consumables that we can’t produce locally, against the possibility of a complete shutdown of spacelift capacity for the duration.”

“A wise precaution,” Autumn averred. “If you think I should make some kind of general announcement–“

Ken gestured for her to hold. “I’d want to run that by the skipper first. The radio station’s getting to be our public face to the whole solar system, and as messed-up as things are getting down on Earth, we need to be careful how we present things.”

Autumn might have a good professional voice, but her skills at controlling her expression weren’t nearly at the level she’d need if she were doing video as well as audio. No, she wasn’t happy about getting told that Captain Waite should approve of any public announcement.

However, Brenda could definitely see it as a sensible measure. Her dad was right about Shepardsport Pirate Radio being the settlement’s public face to three worlds. And he’d been an Air Force officer back during the Energy Wars, so he’d be thinking in terms of opsec, of not giving the other side any information about one’s weak points. Brenda had grown up with her dad’s war stories, while Autumn had grown up with a black-matted photo on the mantle and a name on the Wall of Honor. Not to diminish Lucien Belfontaine’s sacrifice during the NASA Massacre, but it just didn’t give her the same perspective.

No, Autumn didn’t like the feeling that she’d just had her wings clipped, but she had to be aware that a goodly segment of the population around here put great store in astronaut lineages. She couldn’t very well be seen to disrespect the most senior member of the her father’s lineage in the settlement. For starters, she needed to maintain Spruance Del Curtin’s respect, and she couldn’t help but be aware that Brenda had married into the Shepard lineage.

Brenda was glad she wasn’t the one having to make a statement of agreement on the subject. Not that she was goingt to try to buck her father in his own domain, but it was still a very awkward position to be in.

After that, it was just a matter of winding down the conversation, a few parting pleasantries and taking their leave. The Chief of Engineering still had a lot of things he needed to take care of before that CME actually arrived and drenched the Moon in charged particles.

As Brenda walked back through the corridors of the Engineering department, she pulled out her phone and was surprised to find several texts from Drew. They must’ve all come while they were talking, and she hadn’t even noticed her text chime.

Unless one or another app had screwed up the audio again and she needed to reboot. However, from the worried tone of those last couple texts, it would probably be better to respond first and reboot only if Drew wanted to do an actual voice conversation.

Sorry, sweetheart, but I was talking with Dad about the CME that’s coming in. What’s going on?

Drew must’ve had his phone right beside him, because the text went from “delivered” to “read” in a few seconds. Moments later the “writing response” icon came up.

I wish you’d let me know you needed a neutral party to contact a friend dirtside. I know half a dozen people up here who wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow from the worst clone-phobes, and who’d be glad to do me a favor.

As soon as Brenda read that, she realized she should’ve thought of asking her husband. As a pilot-astronaut and an Air Force officer, he had a lot of connections.

Sorry, I guess I just didn’t want to bother you with my worries. You’ve got a lot on your plate already.

And you’ve got reason to be concerned that an old friend is in a dangerous situation. Just send me her e-mail address, her phone number, whatever contact information you have on her, and I’ll see if some of my friends can get things happening.

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