Colin Kapp - The Unorthodox Engineers

Jacko smiled ruefully. ‘It makes a change to hear you condemn something as impossible. What’s happened to the spirit of sweet unorthodoxy this morning?’

‘It’s gone a trifle sour on me. Hell, Jacko, Brumas has a ground crew down there. If there were big radio transmitters on Getawehi they’d surely have investigated them by now. So where’s their report?’

‘There wouldn’t necessarily be a report. Communications between ground and the spacewatch have been rather sparse.’

‘But why? With a laser channel in operation they could have a thousand-way circuit in operation if they chose.’

‘Except for one thing. A reliable line-of-sight channel presupposes the space end of the transmission to be in a synchronous orbit. But you can’t establish a synchronous orbit around something which lollops about in space like Getawehi does.’

‘I take your point,’ said Van Noon wearily. ‘We’ve just been trying to get some sense out of Getawehi’s peculiar rotation scheme. The computer keeps throwing it back requesting further information. We can’t find any set of postulates which goes halfway towards meeting the facts.’

Jacko stood up. ‘You know, Fritz, We’ve seen some pretty crazy situations in the past few years. But from the way things are stacking up I have the premonition that Getawehi’s going to be the craziest yet.’

‘And I’ve a nasty suspicion you’re right. No planet is entitled to be as crazy mixed-up as this. Even that self-disposing lander was a highly unusual bit of do-it-yourself. Let’s go see what gives with Project Ixion. If it’s half as mad as Nash is suggesting, you’re going to have company on that long walk home.’

Colonel Nash looked up from a report-strewn table as Fritz and Jacko entered. He was obviously not looking forward to the interview.

‘Sit down, gentlemen. You’ve no doubt wondered why I’ve left it this late to introduce you to Project Ixion. Frankly, it’s because we’ve all been hoping that somewhere down the line there’s been a ridiculous mistake. But I’m afraid our last analysis leaves us no such get-out. The improbable is absolutely true.’

‘Exactly what is Project Ixion?’ asked Fritz.

‘I’m only an engineer,’ said Nash. ‘I don’t pretend to understand the theoretical work behind it. It has something to do with determining the possibility of borrowing entropy levels from other parts of the universe. If it could be done, it would place at our disposal almost limitless sources of power.’

‘That I can see,’ said Fritz. But why do it on Getawehi?’

‘Theory suggested Getawehi as an ideal testbed for the experiment. Geta and its planetary satellite are ideally placed—right out on the edge of nowhere. Freedom from massed stars was something which the experiment demanded. From the theoretical standpoint there’s no better place that we know of than Getawehi.’

‘So what’s the problem?’ asked Van Noon.

‘The Ixion Project consisted of assembling two substantial prefabricated structures on Getawehi. One was a large turntable, and the second was a cantilever dish, which should have mounted on the turntable roughly after the manner of a steerable-dish radio telescope.’

‘So?’

‘So this…’ Nash threw a clip of message forms across the desk. Fritz picked it up and read speculatively.

Getawehi ground force, to Nash, Tycho Brahe

You old idiot. Quite apart from our ridiculous confinement, I must inform you in no uncertain terms that no repeat no part of Ixion turntable can be assembled from the parts you provided. You must be mad!

Wooley, Commanding.

Van Noon turned to the next one and read on.

Wooley, Commanding groundforce, Getawehi

I assure you all parts of Ixion were assembled and tested on Terra before transhipment. Try holding plans right way up.

Nash, Tycho Brahe.

Colonel Nash shifted his chair uncomfortably.

Getawehi groundforce, to Nash, Tycho Brahe

No part of the turntable fits even with plans held sideways!. It is impossible these parts ever assembled into anything anywhere. You must be joking. Why don’t you resign?

Wooley, Commanding.

Van Noon passed the first sheets to Jacko and continued reading.

Wooley, Commanding groundforce, Getawehi

Sorry to learn of your nervous condition. I am acquiring a competent engineer as replacement soonest. Suggest you avoid alcohol if you cant handle that either.

Nash, Tycho Brahe.

There was one final sheet, which read :

Getawehi groundforce, to Nash, Tycho Brahe I’ll give you alcohol you bl…

The rest of the signal was certified as corrupt by the Signals Officer, but he omitted to indicate whether the corruption was semantic or technical. Van Noon looked up.

‘So who was wrong?’ he said.

‘Nobody,’ said Nash. ‘I saw the completed Ixion structure on Terra and it checked out to specification. It was dismantled and crated by Wooley’s own team. The parts space-delivered to Getawehi were one hundred per cent accurate.’

‘But he says—’

‘I know what he says—and this is the paradox—I happen to believe him. Wooley’s a hell of a good engineer. If he says the parts don’t fit, then they don’t fit. It’s not a question of personalities or expertise. It’s simply the fact that something built on Terra will not re-assemble on Getawehi. Don’t ask me why.’

Fritz considered this in silence for a while. ‘That takes a bit of swallowing.’

‘I know. That’s why I asked you to come. You specialize in impossibilities—well here’s another one for you.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Do? Brumas wants the construction team rescued from Getawehi. Naturally that’s the first priority. But knowing the way you do things, I want you to go one step further. I want you to go down there and finish Ixion itself.’

Van Noon examined his knuckles. ‘That may not be easy. This is a joint Service exercise with divided responsibilities. What sort of backing and resources can I count on?’

‘Commander Brumas and I took the precaution of clarifying the position with GenCom. You must have friends up there, because their answer was unequivocal. As from the moment of this interview you are appointed Senior Adviser for the whole Getawehi-Ixion project. All units involved will take their instructions from you. Nice work, Lieutenant! As from this instant it’s all your show.’

With a thunderstruck expression, Van Noon shook the offered hand.

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. There’s far too much money invested in this enterprise and far too much to gain to let it fail now. Frankly, this is a vote of confidence in unorthodoxy.’

‘Very well!’ Van Noon turned to Sergeant Hine. ‘If you can manage to get your mouth closed, Jacko, we’ve got work to do.’

‘Like what, Fritz?’

‘Like beating the daylights out of the computer, for a start. There must be some reason why that damn planet lollops all over space like that. And unless we can come to grips with the problem I’d guess we’re in for a pretty rough landing.’

Two days later, standard shipboard time, the Tycho Brahe quit hyperspace with a delicious quiver and proceeded on planetary drive to the rendezvous. In high orbit three supply ships circled the innocuous-looking mudball of Getawehi, while far below the solitary pinnace rode the lower circuit making a precariously bad job of maintaining a synchronized station above the ground base. Around them the fiery orb of Geta seemed to trace her possessive path as if guarding her solitary ugly-duckling of a planet.

When the rendezvous was complete, Van Noon abandoned the computer for a telescope and found the results equally uninformative. From any angle of off-world approach, Getawehi refused to deliver up its secrets. Superficially it was a sparsely vegetated, rather uninviting ball of rock and earth. It had never achieved a life-form capable of developing any degree of civilization and seemed content to go rolling perversely through space until the stars grew cold. Its only claim to activity was on the radio-frequency bands, where its output, inexplicably, was both prodigious and impenetrable.