Chapter 12: Fate of the Endurance

The transport rocked slightly as it settled down against the frozen surface of Jupiter. I powered down the engines and was about to unbuckle my restraints when a faint glow caught my attention. I took a closer look and saw a teal colored light under the ice. Nudging Sheila in the shoulder with my forearm, I directed her gaze toward the intensifying light outside our ship.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We're about to find out," I replied, switching on the exterior sensors and starting their recording feature. "Let's hope we get a good look."

The ice melted away, and the strangest creature emerged, sliding out across the frozen ground like a sea lion coming ashore. Measuring five feet long and two feet high, the life form glowed with an intense teal colored light. The light faded to a soft bioluminescent glow. Its skin was smooth, and a frill of flexible tissue ringed its body in a manner reminding me of an eel. Smaller dots in alternating purple and royal blue were positioned in a neat row above and below the fin. I couldn't see any distinctive features to let me know which end was the head or tail. A slit down its back ran nearly from end to end, and as I watched, the slit widened then contracted. The movement repeated in a rhythmic pattern.

"What's that?" Sheila inquired, pointing to the opening and closing slit on the creature's back.

"It reminds me of a fish gill," I told her, checking the scanners. The internal organs were of such an alien design, the computer couldn't identify most of them or even give a clue as to their function. The thermal sensors were the most revealing. "Look at this. The creature's core temperature remains constant, but its skin can heat up enough to melt the surrounding ice and let it swim."

"Perhaps the slit on its back is similar to a dolphin or whale," Sheila supposed. "It spends most of its time under but surfaces for a breath of air."

"Could be," I replied.

The glow of the creature intensified until it was radiant. The ice melted under its body, and the creature swam down into the depths of Jupiter's interior. The subzero atmosphere instantly refroze the liquefied material to leave no trace of the creature ever having been there.

"Fascinating!" I said enthusiastically. The first alien life form discovered, and we'd been here to see it first hand. I felt exhilarated beyond measure.

"Please tell me we got that recorded," Sheila said eagerly.

"We got it," I confirmed.

When we sent the next transmission of the data back to Earth, this discovery would be big news, and we both knew it.

"We'll need to do some deep scans," I stated. "I want to know the range, habits, food sources, and total numbers of that creature. I don't want our colony to accidentally wipe out a native species."

"Will do," Sheila confirmed.

We reluctantly left the ship and walked through the airlock and into the docking port of the Jupiter station. I knew Sheila shared my interest in the alien creature, and the two of us would have been perfectly happy to spend the next several hours, if not days, sitting in the transport and analyzing the sensor data I'd recorded about it. It was regrettable, but we were forced to put aside our discovery and concentrate on the task at hand.

The Jupiter surface colony was the next to last base needing to be established. Only one more remained, but its intended site was on Saturn. Because we'd used a significant portion of our base setup supplies to keep the Endurance alive, doubts remained as to whether we'd have sufficient resources to complete the last station. I had an idea, but I didn't want to bother anyone else with it; the plan seemed slightly risky to me, and knowledge of it might cause distraction when my crew's focus needed to be here.

The lights in the station were working properly, and their bright illumination filled the corridor and gleamed off the metal support struts lining the rounded hallway like ribs. Display screens, interface terminals, and equipment lockers were arranged neatly to maximize on the usage of space; only so much room was available on the station, and we didn't waste so much as an inch.

The circular door at the end of the hallway split into a dozen curved slices at our approach. The metal pieces swiveled out of the way and stacked neatly against each other inside the doorframe. The unique design allowed the door to function without needing excessive space above, below, or on either side for the door to slide out, nor did it get in the way by swinging out into the corridor. It was a very efficient design, and I was proud of my teams for making it work so well.

The door spiraled closed behind us and pressurized with a hiss of air. Ahead, the passage branched to the left and right. A window on the far wall granted a beautiful view of the darkness covered ice of Jupiter. The sun was only the size of my thumb, and it barely provided any light or heat to the colony. Sheila and I took the left passage and continued our brisk pace toward the command center for the outpost.

We passed one of the garden areas, lush with blooming flowers of a multitude of colors. Trees swayed slowly in the manufactured wind produced by the ventilation system, and the overhead lights sparkled on the flowing surface of an artificial stream quietly gurgling its way through the room. Tranquil as always, the environmental support room made me want to stop and relax in the idyllic setting. I still had a job to do, so we continued on without slowing our pace.

The medical lab was an impressive chamber. Occupied by the latest and greatest scientific and medical equipment, a better hospital didn't exist anywhere in the solar system. Silver cabinets on the walls contained nutrients and healing aids, and sitting on its own table in the corner, the square and bulky form of a molecular analyzer waited to process any substance fed into it. I knew the analyzer was one of the most important tools of a new colony. If any microbes, pathogens, or other toxins were present in the atmosphere, frozen terrain, or native life, it could present a potentially lethal threat to the base and everyone in it. During the first weeks of operation, the base crew would evaluate everything they could get into their sample jars and test tubes. If something menaced the colony, they'd find it.

Similar to the construction of the Endurance, the Jupiter station had multiple redundant systems and backup modules. The ones we'd already passed were only the first of several. It served as a contingency plan against any disaster that might strike the station. If a virus or other contaminate got loose, the affected areas could be sealed off and the problem contained. The same held true if a module suffered structural failure due to earthquake, depressurization, or possible asteroid strikes. Unless the damage was truly catastrophic, the station would remain functioning.

The next hatchway that irised open let Sheila and I enter the primary command center. As the central hub for all operations in and around the base, the room was filled with computer terminals linked to other parts of the station. Information streamed in through dedicated lines to keep those in charge fully up to date about everything important they needed to know. The room's computer terminals, data storage banks, display holograms, and work stations were organized in rows across the width of the space. Within each row, units of a similar function were clustered together to promote efficiency. At the back of the room, standing on a platform two feet higher than the main floor, was the director's station. Used by the commander of the base, the unique work area offered a good view of the other officers in the room and whatever functions they were carrying out.

When Sheila and I arrived, the room was crowded by technicians and workers putting the finishing touches in place before the systems could be brought fully online. Bundles of multicolored wires connected hanging control panels to the terminals where they were to be installed. The occasional blue-white flare from a plasma welder made Sheila and I wince and shield our eyes as the work crews put the finishing touches on the room.

Lights on control panels flickered as live wires were tied into the systems. The room smelled of new components, but the plasma welders almost entirely smothered the scent in the acrid odor of hot metal.

"Status report?" I inquired of Leo Porter when I approached his position. He was laying on his back, half buried under a computer console as he installed a data unit, and I had to wait for him to crawl back out before he could answer me.

"Everything is going well, sir," he declared when he'd extricated his large and muscular frame from the narrow space. "Station assembly is finished, and the interior spaces are being brought online. Everything is on schedule."

"Very good," I complimented. Although Leo was in charge of base assembly, I felt I should've been here. My exhaustion and oversleeping after setting up the atmospheric station had caused me to miss most of the work for the surface colony.

"We have this in hand, sir," Leo offered as if sensing my discomfort. "You've done plenty; my crew and I can take care of this."

I rested a hand on the shoulder of his blue uniform, letting him know silently how much I appreciated his forgiving nature. I would've used words to express my sentiment if I could've trusted my voice to remain steady and firm.

"Carry on," I managed. An abrupt spin on my heel turned me around, and I marched for the door. Sheila kept up and followed swiftly along.

"Alright, what is it?" Sheila demanded when we entered the corridor. The door shutting behind us cut off anyone from hearing.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"Come on," she pressed. "I know you well enough to spot that look. You have something in mind, and although you don't care for it, it's the only one you can come up with."

"Since you already know, why discuss it?" I suggested, trying to brush away the difficult conversation I knew was imminent.

Sheila didn't reply openly, but the look she fixed me with let me know she wasn't about to let this go. I sighed heavily and tried to decide where to begin.

"As soon as the station is running, and the base crew offloaded, we're leaving for Saturn," I explained.

"I thought we used up the Saturn supplies to keep the Endurance running," Sheila mentioned.

"We did," I confirmed. "However, I think I have a way to make use of them."

"How?" Sheila asked. "We can't get the trees through the narrow corridors without damaging them beyond their ability to heal, and we can't open the hull to remove them that way. If the intense cold of Saturn doesn't kill the greenery, an alien microorganism might. So, what's your plan?"

"By now, you know as well as I do, the Endurance will never make it back to Earth," I went on. "It's taken too much damage to try going through the asteroids again. I'm considering the possibility that the Endurance may never leave Saturn."

"You're going to build it into the base?" Sheila asked in stunned amazement.

"Not really," I countered. "It will be the station. Any extra features not available on the ship can be added by supplemental modules. They'll be connected to the Endurance in order to tap the life support capabilities of the environmental construction area we built in the forward hull."

"If the Endurance becomes the heart of the Saturn facility, exactly how are we going to get back home?" Sheila reasoned.

Being as perceptive as she was, I knew she'd ask the question.

"If all goes well, a long range crew transport ship will reach Saturn before too much time passes," I answered. "If transportation isn't readily available, we may become part of the colony for a time. If the Endurance can hold out until we reach Saturn, the new station will be its final resting place."