CHOIRS

I won’t ever see my parents again.

I won’t ever see Luna shining in the sky.

I won’t see the sunrise or sunset.

I won’t watch the winds carrying clouds over Ohio.

Seven years.

I don’t know how to feel about all of this. So much emotion…hope, sadness, loss, and yeah…a little fear. What waits out there beyond the reach of our little blue world? Beyond the spinning wheels of Liberty? The red dust of Mars?

Nobody knows.

I’m afraid, but I’m not too afraid to go. I’m not too afraid to take that step across the threshold. It was my first trip to the candy store in Dayton, the last one in the neighborhood. They had those chocolates that the Amish people made. Licorice wheels and penny candy (that really cost 5 cents). My skinny little hand clutching a few dollars. Those tentative footsteps off the curb and across the street, Dad’s outstretched hand nowhere to be found. My first day out alone.

But I’m not alone. Hundreds go with me. Qiong, my friends and co-workers. Some of the brightest minds I’ve ever known. And we’re not alone, either. We go with the thoughts and prayers of billions. I heard the President’s speech. I heard all the speeches. Our last days were spent reading all the letters that came up through the feed. Lots of tears. Tears and cake.

Cake. God, I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten in eighteen hours. It’s almost time.

I’m off to be prepped. It’s scary. Exhilarating. Strange. Part of me doesn’t want to go. I’ve seen amazing things out here, down there. Done amazing things. But there’s something else that needs to be done before my time is up.

The signal remains strong. It’s out there. I’m going home.

- Hersh out.

Q, Marsh and some of the other folks here threw me a surprise party.

I have no idea where they got all that stuff. I really don’t! Do I want to know? Is there a black market party supply store on Liberty that I don’t know about? But thanks so much to everyone. It’s weird to think that 40 is closer than 30…

It’s beautiful up here. I wish you all could see the starlight.

The problem is twofold: one, my bones de-ossify faster than normal folks. The other problem is that in a long-term transport, the passengers will be in cryonics for the duration of the trip (this reduces a lot of headaches that can arise when shipping humans). Dr. Flores has a background in nano-medicine and pharmacological chemistry and was on the team that perfected the hyper-branched polymers that are pumped into trauma victims instead of blood. Same thing will happen to us travelers, minus the trauma. The blood doesn’t form crystals so we don’t suffer irreparable damage upon the onset of acute hypothermia (i.e.: meat popsicle).

But it’s one thing to put someone under and wake them up. I mean, they were doing that to dogs years ago and people not too long after. The time you’re under is of huge importance! The issue is that your muscles atrophy while asleep. Your arms. Yours legs. Your heart tissue. And because you’re in a zero-gravity situation, you have no weight and your bones lose density. There’s the rub. Not only will my body be incapable of handling those stresses, but it’s possible that the other people on the boat will suffer a similar array of medical problems.

Now, Qiong is the transport guru. She’s lead designer and her system is very basic and structured, calling for a long period of inactivity. Each transport module will be shot off in groups of three and the plan is to have twelve such launches between Phases I and III. Total individuals on CHOIRS at Phase III will be ~9,000 adults. But her system is going to make recovery risky — that first wave of 750 is going to have problems we don’t even know about. So what to do? That’s when I came up with the “gravity lung.”

Essentially, it’s an artificial gravity simulator… almost like a centrifuge. A housing that generates near-Earth gravity for the occupant of what we’re called the “Ripley Pods.” The pods keep the passenger in cryonic stasis and the gravity lung supplies enough force to prevent certain kinds of space diseases. An onboard crew (working in shifts) will be awake and aware. This caretaker unit will administer medical attention to the passengers and live and work on the transport in zero-gees (much like the old ISS, except this is a shuttle and not an orbital station). According to a schedule Dr. Flores is working out, passengers will spend parts of the journey awake and part asleep (several month cycles). Total time will come to about a year and a half wakey-wakey and about five asleep. And even though there will be some issues with gravity while awake, it’s possible to exercise and stave off the effects of a no-grav environment.

So we hash this out, literally, in a night. Just cloud-bursting ideas on a white board.

Then we talk it over with various people from medical, engineering, transport and even the shrinks — they all agree it could work. And it could keep yours truly alive and well long enough to see CHOIRS spin up. Then, we can dock our transports and like the animals walking off the ark two-by-two, begin a new life.

Bo called me into his office and gave me the bad news, that I was off the project and my contract with InfraCorp was terminated. Everyone believes that I didn’t intentionally mislead the medical board vis a vis my condition, but everyone agrees it doesn’t really matter to the suits. I could go to legal with it but then what? No pun intended, but after what came out at the inquest I have shaky legs to stand on in terms of legal rights.

I’m headed back to my office to clean out my desk (security is by my side the whole time) and it’s like a mini-reunion: Bo is there with some of the suits from InfraCorp. There are also some engineers and programmers, some I recognize and some I don’t.

The coder is freaking out about delta-V’s and triangulation and he’s speaking a mile a minute. I catch enough to know that the relay beacon failed. The whole impetus of the project was to send out this advance beacon, kind of an interplanetary buoy out there bobbing in the Saturnian “ocean” to light the way for CHOIRS and (hopefully) continued expansion of humanity into and out of our solar system. This is huge, this is the Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria all over again.

So we send this rocket-propelled antenna (which is what it is in layman’s terms) out there and six and a half years later, the screwy thing fails to deploy. By “deploy” I mean, it should take up orbit around Titan and start sending back radio signals and lasers back to the nearest research bases (Ganymede and Agra). By “fails” I mean it doesn’t. It fails to respond. We have no idea where it is, when it is or what it’s doing. Without the beacon, we can’t send out the construction rigs. Without the construction rigs, we can’t start Phase I and CHOIRS dies a cold and painful death.

This is a few billion dollars down the drain on the relay alone and even more on CHOIRS’ development costs. I mean, the whole project is now on hold at least another what…decade? Eight years at the earliest. That’s an ungodly amount of money.

I say, I can help. I can fix this if you just give me the time. The suits say that I can’t work on the project. My contract was terminated and the company is not legally allowed to re-hire me without a full medical examination and review (which I’d fail again anyway). I tell them just let me freelance it! Whip up another contract and I’ll sign. Just to help save the project…nothing more.

Bosse holds up his hands and he tells me he wants me to help but it’s too late. I tell him it’s not too goddamn late…an hour before I had a job, now I don’t and they’re going to sacrifice all that time, money and hard work because of an hour?! So I lay it on the line: if the problem is liability insurance, then I’ll waive my rights, my pension, my death and disability. I need to help. And more important, I need to go out there to see it through.

We start knocking our heads together and figuring out What Went Wrong. Then we figured it out. Stupid, simple mistake. But I was always good at spotting those inconsequential details that turn out to be ridiculously important details. We have an all-night jam session, squirting new calculations back down to Earth and fourteen hours later we send the re-calibrated instructions to the beacon. And it sends us back a signal. We’re exhausted. We’re delirious with joy. Bo kisses both my cheeks. The suits are SMILING when we tell them what happened.

So later on, I talk to my wife. She knew I was fired…she did not know that I got myself re-hired. Qiong freaks out when I tell her what I did. I tell her it’s just money and she tells me that it’s not that I’m not fit for long-term space travel, it’s that I will 100% not survive the trip. I tell her (and I’m not making this up!), “Well that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

And we both realize what I said and we start laughing and crying and just going nuts.

Lame joke?

I have to apologize for not posting about this earlier but between the trip back to L5, the deluge of catch-up work and now this thing, it’s a struggle to keep my head above the water.

I’m penning this on my workpad here outside a scary-looking door. I feel like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office and I’m stuck awaiting my fate. Inside is the company doctor Leona Flores. With her is Bo, some people from InfraCorp’s insurance overwriters and a few suits I don’t know (well, virtually…most of the people in the room are on remote feeds). Qiong is in there too, acting as a character witness. As soon as they’re done grilling her it’ll be my ass that’s put to the fire.

It’s unclear how much of this I can divulge but I figure it won’t hurt to talk about it, especially when the outcome is a foregone conclusion. There’s been some talk that I falsified records in order to conceal my health problems (which is ridiculous) and that not only is this going to cost me a trip to CHOIRS’ Phase I (which is a given) but it might cost me my job as well. Even if I’m cleared of those erroneous charges, Dr. Flores says that there’s no way to safely transport me with the first wave without my bones turning into swiss cheese en route. That means I can’t join the first wave of travelers to CHOIRS, which means I’m going to be planetside when they leave, which means I’m not ever going to see this project through to completion (I mean, not that there was any guarantee in the first place, as the Phase III milestone falls somewhere in my 60’s…and there’s no way there’s going to ship someone approaching septegenerian status to Titan). The good news is that my contract affords me excellent benefits (including life and disability, which I think this covers if I lose the project — have to talk to my lawyer). So I’ll be okay financially… just not spiritually, emotionally, professionally, etc. etc. etc.

Sorry if I’m rambling.

Marshall just brought me a sandwich. Thanks Marsh!

Oh yeah! Irony: as one of the primaries on the transport/cargo ship design team, Qiong is going to have to go BACK into the scary room to tell everyone that her system is not able to safely transport her invalid husband. Can you believe that? She wasn’t going to do it but they shook some legalese in her direction and she caved. Not that I blame her. My hazard pay and life insurance stated in my idemnity clause is not insubstantial. Not that I-Corp would feel anything…

Legal just IM’ed me so I’m going to close for now and head in. Wish me luck. - Hersh

I give up.

I really do. Maybe it’s just not in the cards for me.

Maybe I just WASTED MY GODDAMN LIFE WORKING FOR THE BASTARDS.

I really can’t talk now. I just wanted to vent.

I’m back to work!

Doctor Flores (InfraCorp’s chief physician) said that I need to take it easy and keep on top of my supplements but I’m heading off Luna and returning to the office on Liberty. I have buckets of work to slog through and may be pulling some all-nighters so don’t be surprised if you see me posting less than usual. I have a lot less time on my hands. Can’t wait to see Qiong again and all my co-workers. By the time this gets posted to the Net I should be en route.

- Hersh

Because when you’re laid up in bed covered in plaster and steel pins, nothing passes the time better than a good movie.

Of course, I get a feed into the med bay here on Luna but it’s digital. Remember celluloid? Projection cameras? Sprockets and gears and motors? Jay and I were squirting messages back and forth about this subject. He’s a programmer so of course he sees the beauty of binary. I’m more traditional, a hands-on mechanical engineering type. I want to see the parts move, be able to take it apart and turn each piece over in my hands. Maybe that’s why I got into robotics?

Back when I was stationed at McMurdo we used to have movie marathons so that we wouldn’t go crazy(er). The favorite was the Thing double-feature… the old 50’s Thing and the remake from about 30 years back. 198? Anyway, that’s always fun.

Been watching a lot of movies about builders for some reason, maybe because I’m not working on CHOIRS at the moment. Bridge on the River Kwai is in right now (I know how it ends but it’s really good despite that!). Every time I think Bridge is about to jump the shark, it twists and I’m captivated. That lead actor’s freaking amazing.

I just finished McCabe and Mrs. Miller, which was recommended to me by my doctor. I have never seen a film like this and I suspect I never will again. It looks like a standard western, but it’s not what you think! I also have a film in the queue about a guy who hauls a steamboat up a mountain in the Amazon (that looks nuts… I believe it was actually done in the movie, no special effects).

I have access privileges to lots of stuff up here. Any suggestions from you lot? Please please please no science fiction. I’m on the moon for Pete’s sake! And I’ve seen 2001 about that many times already. BTW, thanks for all the letters and well wishes! They’re really keeping my spirits up. Qiong says thanks as well.

- Hersh

First of all, to all my friends and family who haven’t heard from me: I’m okay. There was an accident while we were running some exercises out on the surface and now I’m recovering in a medical bay here on Luna. It’s nothing life threatening but my professional future is in doubt.

We were working on testing a docking system on the mining rig and something got all fouled up. I climbed up the gantry to check it out and I slipped and fell about twenty feet (I forgot to tie off). Thankfully, my suit, the low-g and the powdery surface lessened the impact and I just got the wind knocked out of me. Kind of amazing, really. The breaks occurred when one of the Garret guys helped me up to my feet after we did some initial, “Are you okay? Can you wiggle your toes?” kind of questions. He grabbed my arm in kind of an awkward way and when he pulled me up, I felt this stabbing pain shoot through my arm to my shoulder and across my chest. Honestly, I don’t remember much after that. They brought me inside, put my arm and upper torso in an inflatable cast and doped me with NOA. Long story short, I’m laid up with a spiral fracture in my humerus, some cracked ribs (I think from the fall) and a compound fracture in my radius.

Despite my mineral supplements and regular exercise sessions, my bone density has dropped by almost 17% in some areas of my body. Also, due to some genetic deficiency that went undiscovered, while my osteoclasts were eliminating old bone growth, my osteoblasts (esp. in my cortical bones) were not keeping up with the construction of new growth. In other words, my body was eating bone and not replacing any. The doc said a cross section of my arm looked like it had been attacked by termites. The other bones in my body have hairline fractures and microscopic stress breaks. Not terrible, but they’re not being repaired well or quickly. My spine and skull are fine but my load-bearing supports (arms, legs, hips) are swiss cheese. There’s no way I’d be able to go on a long distance space flight and continued orbital life is in question.

I feel like such an idiot right now. And I feel terrible for the guy that inadvertently caused the break. It’s not his fault at all and I know he’s beating himself for it. Just a stupid mistake, some bad luck and a pre-existing condition that nobody knew about (myself included). The docs have me on hormone therapy and calcium/magnesium to try and counteract the bone loss but I’m not sure InfraCorp will allow me to continue work on Liberty Station. I suspect someone else will end up taking the wheel from me completely once we start transporting construction modules and equipment. Then it’s on to the next project. Just not CHOIRS. My baby.

The worst part is that Q is on Liberty and can’t get clearance to visit me while I recuperate. I have a video monitor so that we can talk but the lack of physical proximity and the signal delay are maddening. It’ll be even more so when I’m in the gravity well and she’s soaring higher than the angels. That and the skin under this cast itches like crazy.

BTW, Jayesh has been a great friend over the last week. He helped me rig up a voice-to-text interface to my key implant so that I don’t have to type one-handed. The thing works like a dream, though I’m not sure how much he had to hack into the software to make it work (Jay: “Oh, it was an idea I had while on the john.”). He’s quite the character.

Thanks again for all the wonderful emails. I’d say “you can send cards and flowers here…” but, well… you know! I’m a bit sick of “Vermillion Sands” re-runs on the feed up here so send me email. - Hersh

hersh here. typing this 1handed. going to be ok. going to pass out now-h