Lo/oper: Sunbeam, pt 2
Oct. 7th, 2024 04:28 pmAn automated system kicked in!
I can't believe it.
It redirects climate control from the cargo compartment to the passenger compartment when the temperature in the passenger compartment drops below 15C or above 30 C. So we're back at 22 C in here. It's still getting hotter in the cargo compartment, but it's not like a few degrees either way makes much difference when it's over 200 C in the cargo compartment.
I know it's too hot for drones in there, but sent a drone into the cargo compartment as a test anyway. Its chip fried after 3 minutes, which is better than I'd hoped for. I'm not sure what I can do with a drone that's useful in 3 minutes, though. If I could wire a manufacturing printer in the cargo compartment to a computer system in the passenger compartment, I could get it running again: it's only the computer chip that's damaged, so far. I could absolutely do that in person, in an hour or two. Doing it with drones in 3-minute-shifts, though: ugh. Haven't tried. I don't know if the extra shielding I made three days ago is helping, just not enough, or if it's useless. Or making the problem worse, somehow? But the walls are hotter than the room so I'm sure the excess heat is coming from outside the compartment. I'll run out of materials after a while, though.
I haven't wanted to wake anyone else because I can't put them back into stasis, but I went into the stasis compartment to see if I even could. I can't. All the stasis pods are locked and active, and only the ship's computer or the automated safety system can override the lock on a stasis pod. The automated safety system hasn't triggered because the stasis pods are all operating normally, and I can't get into the ship's computer.
Spent the rest of today trying to figure out user credentials. I found a dozen user names in the rec system's logs and tried password recovery with one of them. The password recovery said it went to the individual's tablet. Which isn't on the ship as far as I know, but at least I have some valid user names? Now I just need the right password for one. Opened all the cabinets and checked under and behind things, going through any items I found, in case anyone had written down their password somewhere. No luck.
I'm exhausted. I need to sleep so I can think again but my mind is churning so I can't sleep. When I was a sick little kid, Pop sometimes let me play with his pocket watch. It didn't run; he just carried it as an affectation. He said, "A clock that doesn't run on its own is the best kind of clock, because then you can make it be any time you want." So I'd do things like set it to 8 o'clock and say, "it's breakfast time!" and Pop would make waffles in mid-afternoon for me. Set it to "play time" during the middle of lessons. That sort of thing. Pop would reclaim it eventually so I couldn't always 'control time'.
When I graduated college, he gave it to me to keep. "Now that you're grown, I think you're responsible enough to manage your own time," he said.
So I'm setting it to bed time now, and telling my brain it's time to sleep.
Loop Zero, Day Five
Over 300 C in the cargo compartment today. I doubt a drone will even last a minute now. If I don't fix this soon, the terraforming and manufacturing equipment alike will be beyond repair by the time we arrive. Even if we arrive soon, which -- who knows when we'll arrive?
I brought a toolbox from a cabinet into the stasis room. I opened up a side panel on Kexin's pod to access the interior electronics. Then I put on rubber gloves and snipped a wire. Nothing happened, so I kept snipping. On the fourth wire, an alarm blared. The unit's display read: "Error 2340: Failure in cryostasis maintenance sector 8. Failsafes engaged. Reviving HU KEXIN. Revival sequence complete in 01:23:00."
The timer incremented down.
Kexin is the team leader so he's as good a person as any to wake up. The flight is uncrewed. It's not like we have an expert on ship maintenance. But maybe Kexin will have login credentials the ship recognizes?
When Kexin's pod opened, I went back to the stasis room. The timer was still counting down; it took another minute to finish. Kexin took a minute after that to wake up. "Hey Robin," he said. He sat up, blinking muzzily. "Where's the welcome wagon?"
"We're not there yet." I briefed him on the situation. He rubbed at one ear, listening until I wound down.
"We can try my credentials, sure." He shook his head and rubbed his ears again, then stepped out of the pod and walked with me to the ship's console. "So you broke my pod. That's why I'm awake."
"Right -- sorry, I haven't been able to figure out the heat problem on my own --"
"No, no, that's fine. Good thinking. But why are you awake?"
I stopped.
Kexin sat at the console, and half-twisted around to look at me. "Robin?"
"I don't know." I rubbed my head, rumpling my hair. "I remember getting into the stasis pod on Earth. And I remember being awake on Sunbeam, five days ago. And thinking I ought to check the terraforming equipment. But...I don't remember waking up. I don't remember getting out of the pod. I don't know why I'm awake--"
I must have sounded as panicky as I felt, because Kexin held up one hand to forestall me. "Okay, take it easy. Must be a stasis side effect. Your brain took a while to come back online fully and wasn't forming memories when you got out of the pod. Something like that. We can check the logs for your pod once we get into the ship's computer. Maybe it was even a problem with your stasis pod and the failsafe kicked in to wake you before any real damage was done."
"Right. Yeah." I didn't remember hearing about memory issues being a stasis side effect, but it sounded plausible.
Except...I couldn't remember wondering why I was awake, either. At any point in the last five days. Why hadn't I thought about that? Why hadn't I thought, at any point before now, 'Isn't it weird that I don't remember coming out of stasis?'
Kexin tried his thumbprint and then user credentials at the console, but they didn't work any more than mine had. "You said the rec computer would let you use it?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't know anything."
Kexin shook his head, rubbing an ear again before he stood. "Let's try it anyway."
"Are you all right?" I asked. "Is something wrong with your ear?"
"Eh, mostly. My hearing's a little weird. Probably just from the emergency wake-up. I'm sure it'll clear up."
In the rec room, Kexin dug through its logs, deciphering time stamps and entries. There'd been almost no activity for this trip, since everyone was in stasis the whole time. The last log entry before I started poking at the rec computer was from the previous trip. But Kexin remembered how long Sunbeam had been in port between our trip and the previous: seventeen days. "They had to fit and prep her for an interstellar voyage because her last few trips were in-system hops. That means this entry was about 17 days before we launched. And today's ship-date is 2144-315: 723 days after it. So 706 ship-days in transit so far. I don't remember how long we were supposed to be traveling in ship-days. But the rec computer ought to be able to figure it out." The computer didn't have anything as straightforward as a time-and-distance calculator for space travel. We tried a few different approaches before Kexin found a space colonization game in the library that boasted of realistic ship designs and speeds. We poked at it for a while and eventually got it to tell us how many ship-days a voyage from Earth to Corsair-V would take a ship of Sunbeam's class: 813 at customary speeds.
Kexin got the game to display the course on a star map, labelled in both ship-time and distance. 706 ship-days was physically much closer than you'd expect: we should be in the Corsair system now, and braking in anticipation of reaching Corsair-V.
Seeing the map made me smile. "Finally, we know where we are. More or less. I suppose if there's a problem with the drives we might be either farther or closer, depending what went wrong."
"Yeah." Kexin stifled a yawn. "And none of this gets us any closer to figuring out what's wrong with the cargo compartment. But the temps have been rising linearly, not exponentially. And anything that'd melt at 300 C already melted at 200 C. I was wondering if we're close enough that we might as well wake everyone. But with over three months to go, I'm reluctant to jump straight to that. Let's get some sleep. Maybe inspiration will strike overnight."
Loop Zero, Day Six
Partway through the sleep shift, I had a nightmare of alarms blaring. The main computer announced that ship integrity had failed and instructed all conscious individuals to evacuate the escape pods. It was hot, too hot, as I ran through past the stasis room towards the nearest escape pod. The stasis room airlock had sealed. The stasis pods launched, each its own sort of escape pod. But instead of launching into the blackness of space, a fiery inferno boiled outside the ship. While I stared in horror, metal and ceramic shrieked and twisted around me. A heat so intense it didn't even feel like heat anymore washed over me, like the shockwave of an explosion.