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diff --git a/59373-0.txt b/59373-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e6a4cf8 --- /dev/null +++ b/59373-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1060 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59373 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + CATALYSIS + + BY POUL ANDERSON + + _Man is a kind of turtle. Wherever + he goes, he will always carry a + shell holding warmth and air--and + with them his human failings...._ + + [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from + Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1956. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +When you looked outside, it was into darkness. + +Going out yourself, you could let your eyes accommodate. At high noon, +the sun was a sharp spark in a dusky heaven, and its light amounted to +about one-ninth of one percent of what Earth gets. The great fields +of ice and frozen gases reflected enough to help vision, but upthrust +crags and cliffs of naked rock were like blackened teeth. + +Seventy hours later, when Triton was on the other side of the primary +that it always faced, there was a midnight thick enough to choke you. +The stars flashed and glittered, a steely twinkle through a gaunt +atmosphere mostly hydrogen--strange, to see the old lost constellations +of Earth, here on the edge of the deep. Neptune was at the full, a +giant sprawling across eight degrees of sky, bluish gray and smoky +banded, but it caught so little sunlight that men groped in blindness. +They set up floodlights, or had lamps glaring from their tracs, to work +at all. + +But nearly everything went on indoors. Tunnels connected the various +buildings on the Hill, instruments were of necessity designed to +operate in the open without needing human care, men rarely had occasion +to go out any more. Which was just as well, for it takes considerable +power and insulation to keep a man alive when the temperature hovers +around 60 degrees Kelvin. + +And so you stood at a meter-thick port of insulglas, and looked out, +and saw only night. + +Thomas Gilchrist turned away from the view with a shudder. He had +always hated cold, and it was as if the bitterness beyond the lab-dome +had seeped in to touch him. The cluttered gleam of instruments in the +room, desk piled high with papers and microspools, the subdued chatter +of a computer chewing a problem, were comforting. + +He remembered his purpose and went with a long low-gravity stride to +check the mineralogical unit. It was busily breaking down materials +fetched in by the robosamplers, stones never found on Earth--because +Earth is not the Mercury-sized satellite of an outer planet, nor has +it seen some mysterious catastrophe in an unknown time back near +the beginning of things. Recording meters wavered needles across +their dials, data tapes clicked out, he would soon have the basic +information. Then he would try to figure out how the mineral could have +been formed, and give his hypothesis to the computer for mathematical +analysis of possibility, and start on some other sample. + +For a while Gilchrist stood watching the machine. A cigaret smoldered +forgotten between his fingers. He was a short, pudgy young man, +with unkempt hair above homely features. Pale-blue eyes blinked +nearsightedly behind contact lenses, his myopia was not enough to +justify surgery. Tunic and slacks were rumpled beneath the gray smock. + +_Behold the bold pioneer!_ he thought. His self-deprecating sarcasm +was mildly nonsane, he knew, but he couldn't stop--it was like biting +an aching tooth. Only a dentist could fix the tooth in an hour, while +a scarred soul took years to heal. It was like his eyes, the trouble +wasn't bad enough to require long expensive repair, so he limped +through life. + +Rafael Alemán came in, small and dark and cheerful. "'Allo," he said. +"How goes it?" He was one of the Hill's organic chemists, as Gilchrist +was the chief physical chemist, but his researches into low-temperature +properties were turning out so disappointingly that he had plenty of +time to annoy others. Nevertheless, Gilchrist liked him, as he liked +most people. + +"So-so. It takes time." + +"Time we have enough of, _mi amigo_," said Alemán. "Two years we 'ave +been here, and three years more it will be before the ship comes to +relieve us." He grimaced. "Ah, when I am back to Durango Unit, how fast +my savings will disappear!" + +"You didn't have to join the Corps, and you didn't have to volunteer +for Triton Station," Gilchrist pointed out. + +The little man shrugged, spreading slender hands. "Confidential, I will +tell you. I had heard such colorful tales of outpost life. But the only +result is that I am now a married man--not that I have anything but +praise for my dear Mei-Hua, but it is not the abandonment one had hoped +for." + +Gilchrist chuckled. Outer-planet stations did have a slightly lurid +reputation, and no doubt it had been justified several years ago. + +After all--The voyage was so long and costly that it could not be +made often. You established a self-sufficient colony of scientists +and left it there to carry on its researches for years at a time. +But self-sufficiency includes psychic elements, recreation, alcohol, +entertainment, the opposite sex. A returning party always took several +children home. + +Scientists tended to be more objective about morals, or at least more +tolerant of the other fellow's, than most; so when a hundred or so +people were completely isolated, and ordinary amusements had palled, it +followed that there would be a good deal of what some would call sin. + +"Not Triton," said Gilchrist. "You forget that there's been another +cultural shift in the past generation--more emphasis on the stable +family. And I imagine the Old Man picked his gang with an eye to such +attitudes. Result--the would-be rounders find themselves so small a +minority that it has a dampening effect." + +"_Sí._ I know. But you 'ave never told me your real reason for coming +here, Thomas." + +Gilchrist felt his face grow warm. "Research," he answered shortly. +"There are a lot of interesting problems connected with Neptune." + +Alemán cocked a mildly skeptical eyebrow but said nothing. Gilchrist +wondered how much he guessed. + +That was the trouble with being shy. In your youth, you acquired +bookish tastes; only a similarly oriented wife would do for you, so +you didn't meet many women and didn't know how to behave with them +anyhow. Gilchrist, who was honest with himself, admitted he'd had +wistful thoughts about encountering the right girl here, under informal +conditions where-- + +He had. And he was still helpless. + +Suddenly he grinned. "I'll tell you what," he said. "I also came +because I don't like cold weather." + +"Came to _Neptune_?" + +"Sure. On Earth, you can stand even a winter day, so you have to. Here, +since the local climate would kill you in a second or two, you're +always well protected from it." Gilchrist waved at the viewport. "Only +I wish they didn't have that bloody window in my lab. Every time I look +out, it reminds me that just beyond the wall nitrogen is a solid." + +"_Yo comprendo_," said Alemán. "The power of suggestion. Even now, at +your words, I feel a chill." + +Gilchrist started with surprise. "You know, somehow I have the +same--Just a minute." He went over to a workbench. His inframicrometer +had an air thermometer attached to make temperature corrections. + +"What the devil," he muttered. "It _is_ cooled off. Only 18 degrees in +here. It's supposed to be 21." + +"Some fluctuation, in temperature as in ozone content and humidity," +reminded Alemán. "That is required for optimum health." + +"Not this time of day, it shouldn't be varying." Gilchrist was reminded +of his cigaret as it nearly burned his fingers. He stubbed it out and +took another and inhaled to light it. + +"I'm going to raise Jahangir and complain," he said. "This could play +merry hell with exact measurements." + +Alemán trotted after him as he went to the door. It was manually +operated, and the intercoms were at particular points instead of every +room. You had to forego a number of Earthside comforts here. + +There was a murmuring around him as he hurried down the corridor. +Some doors stood open, showing the various chemical and biological +sections. The physicists had their own dome, on the other side of the +Hill, and even so were apt to curse the stray fields generated here. If +they had come this far to get away from solar radiations, it was only +reasonable, as anyone but a chemist could see, that-- + +The screen stood at the end of the hall, next to the tunnel stairs. +Gilchrist checked himself and stood with a swift wild pulse in his +throat. Catherine Bardas was using it. + +He had often thought that the modern fashion of outbreeding yielded +humans more handsome than any pure racial type could be. When a girl +was half Greek and half Amerind, and a gifted biosynthesizer on top of +it, a man like him could only stare. + +Mohammed Jahangir's brown, bearded face registered more annoyance +than admiration as he spoke out of the screen. "Yes. Dr. Bardas," he +said with strained courtesy. "I know. My office is being swamped with +complaints." + +"Well, what's the trouble?" asked the girl. Her voice was low and +gentle, even at this moment. + +"I'm not sure," said the engineer. "The domes' temperature is dropping, +that's all. We haven't located the trouble yet, but it can't be +serious." + +"All I'm asking," said Catherine Bardas patiently, "is how much longer +this will go on and how much lower it's going to get. I'm trying to +synthesize a cell, and it takes precisely controlled conditions. If the +air temperature drops another five degrees, my thermostat won't be able +to compensate." + +"Oh, well ... I'm sure you can count on repair being complete before +that happens." + +"All right," said Catherine sweetly. "If not, though, I'll personally +bung you out the main air-lock _sans_ spacesuit." + +Jahangir laughed and cut off. The light of fluorotubes slid blue-black +off the girl's shoulder-length hair as she turned around. Her face was +smooth and dark, with high cheekbones and a lovely molding of lips and +nose and chin. + +"Oh--hello, Tom," she smiled. "All through here." + +"Th-th-th--Never mind," he fumbled. "I was only g-going to ask about it +myself." + +"Well--" She yawned and stretched with breathtaking effect. "I suppose +I'd better get back and--" + +"Ah, why so, señorita?" replied Alemán. "If the work does not need your +personal attention just now, come join me in a leetle drink. It is near +dinnertime anyhow." + +"All right," she said. "How about you, Tom?" + +He merely nodded, for fear of stuttering, and accompanied them down the +stairs and into the tunnel. Half of him raged at his own timidity--why +hadn't he made that suggestion? + +The passages connecting the domes were all alike, straight featureless +holes lined with plastic. Behind lay insulation and the pipes of the +common heating system, then more insulation, finally the Hill itself. +That was mostly porous iron, surprisingly pure though it held small +amounts of potassium and aluminum oxides. The entire place was a spongy +ferrous outcropping. But then, Triton was full of geological freaks. + +"How goes your work?" asked Alemán sociably. + +"Oh, pretty well," said Catherine. "I suppose you know we've +synthesized virus which can live outside. Now we're trying to build +bacteria to do the same." + +On a professional level, Gilchrist was not a bad conversationalist. +His trouble was that not everyone likes to talk shop all the time. "Is +there any purpose in that, other than pure research to see if you can +do it?" he inquired. "I can't imagine any attempt ever being made to +colonize this moon." + +"Well, you never know," she answered. "If there's ever any reason for +it, oxide-reducing germs will be needed." + +"As well as a nuclear heating system for the whole world, and--What +do your life forms use for energy, though? Hardly enough sunlight, I +should think." + +"Oh, but there is, for the right biochemistry with the right +catalysts--analogous to our own enzymes. It makes a pretty feeble type +of life, of course, but I hope to get bacteria which can live off the +local ores and frozen gases by exothermic reactions. Don't forget, when +it's really cold a thermal engine can have a very high efficiency; and +all living organisms are thermal engines of a sort." + +They took the stairs leading up into the main dome: apartments, +refectories, social centers, and offices. Another stair led downward +to the central heating plant in the body of the Hill. Gilchrist saw an +engineer going that way with a metering kit and a worried look. + +The bar was crowded, this was cocktail hour for the swing shift +and--popular opinion to the contrary--a scientist likes his meals +regular and only lives off sandwiches brought to the lab when he must. +They found a table and sat down. Nobody had installed dial units, so +junior technicians earned extra money as waiters. One of them took +their orders and chits. + +The ventilators struggled gallantly with the smoke. It hazed the murals +with which some homesick soul had tried to remember the green Earth. A +couple of astronomers at the next table were noisily disputing theories. + +"--Dammit, Pluto's got to be an escaped satellite of Neptune. Look at +their orbits ... and Pluto is where Neptune should be according to +Bode's Law." + +"I know. I've heard that song before. I suppose you favor the Invader +theory?" + +"What else will account for the facts? A big planet comes wandering in, +yanks Neptune sunward and frees Pluto; but Neptune captures a satellite +of the Invader. Triton's got to be a captured body, with this screwy +retrograde orbit. And Nereid--" + +"Have you ever analyzed the mechanics of that implausible proposition? +Look here--" A pencil came out and began scribbling on the +long-suffering table top. + +Catherine chuckled. "I wonder if we'll ever find out," she murmured. + +Gilchrist rubbed chilled fingers together. Blast it, the air was still +cooling off! "It'd be interesting to land a ship on Nep himself and +check the geology," he said. "A catastrophe like that would leave +traces." + +"When they can build a ship capable of landing on a major planet +without being squeezed flat by the air pressure, that'll be the day. I +think we'll have to settle for telescopes and spectroscopes for a long, +long time to come--" + +The girl's voice trailed off, and her dark fine head poised. The +loudspeaker was like thunder. + +"DR. VESEY! DR. VESEY! PLEASE CONTACT ENGINEERING OFFICE! DR. VESEY, +PLEASE CONTACT DR. JAHANGIR! OVER." + +For a moment, there was silence in the bar. + +"I wonder what the trouble is," said Alemán. + +"Something to do with the heating plant, I suppose--" Again +Catherine's tones died, and they stared at each other. + +The station was a magnificent machine; it represented an engineering +achievement which would have been impossible even fifty years ago. It +kept a hundred human creatures warm and moist, it replenished their air +and synthesized their food and raised a wall of light against darkness. +But it had not the equipment to call across nearly four and a half +billion kilometers of vacuum. It had no ship of its own, and the great +Corps vessel would not be back for three years. + +It was a long way to Earth. + + * * * * * + +Dinner was a silent affair that period. There were a few low-voiced +exchanges, but they only seemed to deepen the waiting stillness. + +And the cold grew apace. You could see your breath, and your thin +garments were of little help. + +The meal was over, and the groups of friends were beginning to drift +out of the refectory, when the intercoms woke up again. This chamber +had a vision screen. Not an eye stirred from Director Samuel Vesey as +he looked out of it. + +His lips were firm and his voice steady, but there was a gleam of sweat +on the ebony skin--despite the cold. He stared directly before him and +spoke: + +"Attention, all personnel. Emergency situation. Your attention, please." + +After a moment, he seemed to relax formality and spoke as if face to +face. "You've all noticed our trouble. Something has gone wrong with +the heating plant, and Dr. Jahangir's crew haven't located the trouble +so far. + +"Now there's no reason for panic. The extrapolated curve of temperature +decline indicates that, at worst, it'll level off at about zero +Centigrade. That won't be fun, but we can stand it till the difficulty +has been found. Everyone is advised to dress as warmly as possible. +Food and air plant crews are going on emergency status. All projects +requiring energy sources are cancelled till further notice. + +"According to the meters, there's nothing wrong with the pile. It's +still putting out as much heat as it always has. But somehow, that heat +isn't getting to us as it should. The engineers are checking the pipes +now. + +"I'll have a stat of the findings made up and issued. Suggestions are +welcome, but please take them to my office--the engineers have their +own work to do. Above all, don't panic! This is a nuisance, I know, but +there's no reason to be afraid. + +"All personnel not needed at once, stand by. The following specialists +please report to me--" + +He read off the list, all physicists, and closed his talk with a forced +grin and thumbs up. + +As if it had broken a dam, the message released a babble of words. +Gilchrist saw Catherine striding out of the room and hastened after her. + +"Where are you going?" he asked. + +"Where do you think?" she replied. "To put on six layers of clothes." + +He nodded. "Best thing. I'll come along, if I may--my room's near +yours." + +A woman, still in her smock, was trying to comfort a child that +shivered and cried. A Malayan geologist stood with teeth clattering in +his jaws. An engineer snarled when someone tried to question him and +ran on down the corridor. + +"What do you think?" asked Gilchrist inanely. + +"I don't have any thoughts about the heating plant," said Catherine. +Her voice held a thin edge. "I'm too busy worrying about food and air." + +Gilchrist's tongue was thick and dry in his mouth. The biochemistry of +food creation and oxygen renewal died when it got even chilly. + + * * * * * + +Finished dressing, they looked at each other in helplessness. Now what? + +The temperature approached its minimum in a nosedive. There had +always been a delicate equilibrium; it couldn't be otherwise, when +the interior of the domes was kept at nearly 240 degrees above the +surrounding world. The nuclear pile devoted most of its output to +maintaining that balance, with only a fraction going to the electric +generators. + +Gilchrist thrust hands which were mottled blue with cold into his +pockets. Breath smoked white before him. Already a thin layer of +hoarfrost was on ceiling and furniture. + +"How long can we stand this?" he asked. + +"I don't know," said Catherine. "Not too long, I should think, since +nobody has adequate clothes. The children should ... suffer ... pretty +quickly. Too much drain on body energy." She clamped her lips together. +"Use your mental training. You can ignore this till it begins actually +breaking down your physique." + +Gilchrist made an effort, but couldn't do it. He could stop shivering, +but the chill dank on his skin, and the cold sucked in by his nose, +were still there in his consciousness, like a nightmare riding him. + +"They'll be dehumidifying the air," said Catherine. "That'll help +some." She began walking down the hall. "I want to see what they're +doing about the food and oxy sections." + +A small mob had had the same idea. It swirled and mumbled in the hall +outside the service rooms. A pair of hard-looking young engineers armed +with monkey wrenches stood guard. + +Catherine wormed her way through the crowd and smiled at them. Their +exasperation dissolved, and one of them, a thickset red-head by the +name of O'Mallory, actually grinned. Gilchrist, standing moodily behind +the girl, could hardly blame him. + +"How's it going in there?" she asked. + +"Well, now, I suppose the Old Man _is_ being sort of slow about his +bulletins," said O'Mallory. "It's under control here." + +"But what are they doing?" + +"Rigging electric heaters, of course. It'll take all the juice we have +to maintain these rooms at the right temperature, so I'm afraid they'll +be cutting off light and power to the rest of the Hill." + +She frowned. "It's the only thing, I suppose. But what about the +people?" + +"They'll have to jam together in the refectories and clubrooms. That'll +help keep 'em warm." + +"Any idea what the trouble is?" + +O'Mallory scowled. "We'll get it fixed," he said. + +"That means you don't know." She spoke it calmly. + +"The pile's all right," he said. "We telemetered it. I'd'a done that +myself, but you know how it is--" He puffed himself up a trifle. "They +need a couple husky chaps to keep the crowd orderly. Anyhow, the pile's +still putting out just as it should, still at 500 degrees like it ought +to be. In fact, it's even a bit warmer than that; why, I don't know." + +Gilchrist cleared his throat. "Th-th-then the trouble is with the ... +heating pipes," he faltered. + +"How did you ever guess?" asked O'Mallory with elaborate sarcasm. + +"Lay off him," said Catherine. "We're all having a tough time." + +Gilchrist bit his lip. It wasn't enough to be a tongue-tied idiot, he +seemed to need a woman's protection. + +"Trouble is, of course," said O'Mallory, "the pipes are buried in +insulation, behind good solid plastic. They'll be hard to get at." + +"Whoever designed this farce ought to have to live in it," said his +companion savagely. + +"The same design's worked on Titan with no trouble at all," declared +O'Mallory. + +Catherine's face took on a grimness. "There never was much point in +making these outer-planet domes capable of quick repair," she said. "If +something goes wrong, the personnel are likely to be dead before they +can fix it." + +"Now, now, that's no way to talk," smiled O'Mallory. "Look, I get off +duty at 0800. Care to have a drink with me then?" + +Catherine smiled back. "If the bar's operating, sure." + +Gilchrist wandered numbly after her as she left. + +The cold gnawed at him. He rubbed his ears, unsure about frostbite. Odd +how fast you got tired--It was hard to think. + +"I'd better get back to my lab and put things away before they turn off +the electricity to it," he said. + +"Good idea. Might as well tidy up in my own place." Something flickered +darkly in the girl's eyes. "It'll take our minds off--" + +Off gloom, and cold, and the domes turned to blocks of ice, and a final +night gaping before all men. Off the chasm of loneliness between the +Hill and the Earth. + +They were back in the chemical section when Alemán came out of his lab. +The little man's olive skin had turned a dirty gray. + +"What is it?" Gilchrist stopped, and something knotted hard in his guts. + +"_Madre de Díos--_" Alemán licked sandy lips. "We are finished." + +"It's not that bad," said Catherine. + +"You do not understand!" he shrieked. "Come here!" + +They followed him into his laboratory. He mumbled words about having +checked a hunch, but it was his hands they watched. Those picked up a +Geiger counter and brought it over to a wall and traced the path of a +buried heating pipe. + +The clicking roared out. + + * * * * * + +"Beta emission," said Gilchrist. His mouth felt cottony. + +"How intense?" whispered Catherine. + +Gilchrist set up an integrating counter and let it run for a while. +"Low," he said. "But the dosage is cumulative. A week of this, and +we'll begin to show the effects. A month, and we're dead." + +"There's always some small beta emission from the pipes," said the +girl. "A little tritium gets formed down in the pile room. +It's ... never been enough to matter." + +"Somehow, the pile's beginning to make more H-3, then." Gilchrist sat +down on a bench and stared blankly at the floor. + +"The laws of nature--" Alemán had calmed down a bit, but his eyes were +rimmed with white. + +"Yes?" asked Catherine when he stopped. She spoke mostly to fend off +the silence. + +"I 'ave sometimes thought ... what we know in science is so leetle. It +may be the whole universe, it has been in a ... a most improbable state +for the past few billion years." Alemán met her gaze as if pleading +to be called a liar. "It may be that what we thought to be the laws of +nature, those were only a leetle statistical fluctuation." + +"And now we're going back onto the probability curve?" muttered +Gilchrist. He shook himself. "No, damn it. I won't accept that till I +must. There's got to be some rational explanation." + +"Leakage in the pipes?" ventured Catherine. + +"We'd know that. Nor does it account for the radiation. No, it's--" His +voice twisted up on him, and he groped out a cigaret. "It's something +natural." + +"What is natural?" said Alemán. "How do we know, leetle creeping things +as we are, living only by the grace of God? We 'ave come one long way +from home." His vision strayed to the viewport with a kind of horror. + +_Yes_, thought Gilchrist in the chilled darkness of his mind, _yes, we +have come far. Four and a half billion kilometers further out from the +sun. The planet-sized moon of a world which could swallow ours whole +without noticing. A thin hydrogen atmosphere, glaciers of nitrogen +which turn to rivers when it warms up, ammonia snow, and a temperature +not far above absolute zero. What do we know? What is this arrogance of +ours which insists that the truth on Earth is also the truth on the rim +of space?_ + +No! + +He stood up, shuddering with cold, and said slowly: "We'd better go see +Dr. Vesey. He has to know, and maybe they haven't thought to check the +radiation. And then--" + +Catherine stood waiting. + +"Then we have to think our way out of this mess," he finished lamely. +"Let's, uh, start from the beginning. Think back how th-th-the heating +plant works." + + * * * * * + +Down in the bowels of the Hill was a great man-made cave. It had been +carved out of the native iron, with rough pillars left to support the +roof; walls and ceiling were lined with impermeable metal, but the +floor was in its native state--who cared if there was seepage downward? + +The pile sat there, heart and life of the station. + +It was not a big one, just sufficient to maintain man on Triton. +Part of its energy was diverted to the mercury-vapor turbines which +furnished electricity. The rest went to heat the domes above. + +Now travel across trans-Jovian spaces is long and costly; even the +smallest saving means much. Very heavy insulation against the haze of +neutrons which the pile emitted could scarcely be hauled from Earth, +nor had there been any reason to spend time and labor manufacturing it +on Triton. + +Instead, pumps sucked in the hydrogen air and compressed it to about +600 atmospheres. There is no better shield against high-energy +neutrons; they bounce off the light molecules and slow down to a speed +which makes them perfectly harmless laggards which don't travel far +before decaying into hydrogen themselves. This, as well as the direct +radiation of the pile, turned the room hot--some 500 degrees. + +So what was more natural than that the same hydrogen should be +circulated through pipes of chrome-vanadium steel, which is relatively +impenetrable even at such temperatures, and heat the domes? + +There was, of course, considerable loss of energy as the compressed gas +seeped through the Hill and back into the satellite's atmosphere. But +the pumps maintained the pressure. It was not the most efficient system +which could have been devised; it would have been ludicrous on Earth. +But on Triton, terminal of nowhere, men had necessarily sacrificed some +engineering excellence to the stiff requirements of transportation and +labor. + +And after all, it had worked without a hitch for many years on Saturn's +largest moon. It had worked for two years on Neptune's-- + + * * * * * + +Samuel Vesey drummed on his desk with nervous fingers. His dark +countenance was already haggard, the eyes sunken and feverish. + +"Yes," he said. "Yes, it was news to me." + +Jahangir put down the counter. The office was very quiet for a while. + +"Don't spread the word," said Vesey. "We'll confine it to the +engineers. Conditions are bad enough without a riot breaking loose. We +can take several days of this radiation without harm, but you know how +some people are about it." + +"You've not been very candid so far," snapped Catherine. "Just exactly +what have you learned?" + +Jahangir shrugged. There was a white frost rimming his beard. "There've +been no bulletins because there's no news," he replied. "We checked the +pile. It's still putting out as it should. The neutron flux density is +the same as ever. It's the gas there and in our pipes which has gotten +cold and ... radioactive." + +"Have you looked directly in the pile room--actually entered?" demanded +Alemán. + +Jahangir lifted his shoulders again. "My dear old chap," he murmured. +"At a temperature of 500 and a pressure of 600?" After a moment, he +frowned. "I do have some men modifying a trac so it could be driven +in there for a short time. But I don't expect to find anything. It's +mostly to keep them busy." + +"How about the pipes, then?" asked Gilchrist. + +"Internal gas pressure and velocity of circulation is just about what +it always has been. According to the meters, anyway, which I don't +think are lying. I don't want to block off a section and rip it out +except as a last resort. It would just be wasted effort, I'm sure." +Jahangir shook his turbanned head. "No, this is some phenomenon which +we'll have to think our way through, not bull through." + +Vesey nodded curtly. "I suggest you three go back to the common rooms," +he said. "We'll be shunting all the power to food and oxy soon. If you +have any further suggestions, pass them on ... otherwise, sit tight." + +It was dismissal. + + * * * * * + +The rooms stank. + +Some ninety human beings were jammed together in three long chambers +and an adjacent kitchen. The ventilators could not quite handle that +load. + +They stood huddled together, children to the inside, while those on +the rim of the pack hugged their shoulders and clenched teeth between +blue lips. Little was said. So far there was calm of a sort--enough +personnel had had intensive mind training to be a steadying influence; +but it was a thin membrane stretched near breaking. + +As he came in, Gilchrist thought of a scene from Dante's hell. +Somewhere in that dense mass, a child was sobbing. The lights were +dim--he wondered why--and distorted faces were whittled out of thick +shadow. + +"G-g-get inside ... in front of me," he said to Catherine. + +"I'll be all right," answered the girl. "It's a fact that women can +stand cold better than men." + +Alemán chuckled thinly. "But our Thomas is well padded against it," he +said. + +Gilchrist winced. He himself made jokes about his figure, but it was +a cover-up. Then he wondered why he should care; they'd all be dead +anyway, before long. + +A colleague, Danton, turned empty eyes on them as they joined the rest. +"Any word?" he asked. + +"They're working on it," said Catherine shortly. + +"God! Won't they hurry up? I've got a wife and kid. And we can't even +sleep, it's so cold." + +Yes, thought Gilchrist, that would be another angle. Weariness to eat +away strength and hope ... radiation would work fast on people in a +depressed state. + +"They could at least give us a heater in here!" exclaimed Danton. His +tone was raw. Shadows muffled his face and body. + +"All the juice we can spare is going to the food and air plants. No use +being warm if you starve or suffocate," said Catherine. + +"I know, I know. But--Well, why aren't we getting more light? There +ought to be enough current to heat the plants and still furnish a +decent glow in here." + +"Something else--" Gilchrist hesitated. "Something else is operating, +then, and sucking a lot of power. I don't know what." + +"They say the pile itself is as hot as ever. Why can't we run a pipe +directly from it?" + +"And get a mess of fast neutrons?" Catherine's voice died. After +all ... they were being irradiated as they stood here and trembled. + +"We've got batteries!" It was almost a snarl from Danton's throat. +"Batteries enough to keep us going comfortably for days. Why not use +them?" + +"And suppose the trouble hasn't been fixed by the time they're +drained?" challenged Gilchrist. + +"Don't say that!" + +"Take it easy," advised another man. + +Danton bit his lip and faced away, mumbling to himself. + +A baby began to cry. There seemed no way of quieting it. + +"Turn that bloody brat off!" The tone came saw-toothed from somewhere +in the pack. + +"Shut up!" A woman's voice, close to hysteria. + +Gilchrist realized that his teeth were rattling. He forced them to +stop. The air was foul in his nostrils. + +He thought of beaches under a flooding sun, of summer meadows and a +long sweaty walk down dusty roads, he thought of birds and blue sky. +But it was no good. None of it was real. + +The reality was here, just beyond the walls, where Neptune hung ashen +above glittering snow that was not snow, where a thin poisonous wind +whimpered between barren snags, where the dark and the cold flowed +triumphantly close. The reality would be a block of solid gas, a +hundred human corpses locked in it like flies in amber, it would be +death and the end of all things. + +He spoke slowly, through numbed lips: "Why has man always supposed that +God cared?" + +"We don't know if He does or not," said Catherine. "But man cares, +isn't that enough?" + +"Not when the next nearest man is so far away," said Alemán, trying to +smile. "I will believe in God; man is too small." + +Danton turned around again. "Then why won't He help us now?" he cried. +"Why won't He at least save the children?" + +"I said God cared," answered Alemán quietly, "not that He will do our +work for us." + +"Stow the theology, you two," said Catherine. "We're going to pieces in +here. Can't somebody start a song?" + +Alemán nodded. "Who has a guitar?" When there was no response, he began +singing a capella: + + "_La cucaracha, la cucaracha, + Ya no quiere caminar--_" + +Voices joined in, self-consciously. They found themselves too few, and +the song died. + +Catherine rubbed her fingers together. "Even my pockets are cold now," +she said wryly. + +Gilchrist surprised himself; he took her hands in his. "That may help," +he said. + +"Why, thank you, Sir Galahad," she laughed. "You--Oh. Hey, there!" + +O'Mallory, off guard detail now that everyone was assembled here, came +over. He looked even bulkier than before in half a dozen layers of +clothing. Gilchrist, who had been prepared to stand impotently in the +background while the engineer distributed blarney, was almost relieved +to see the fear on him. _He_ knew! + +"Any word?" asked Catherine. + +"Not yet," he muttered. + +"Why 'ave we so leetle light?" inquired Alemán. "What is it that draws +the current so much? Surely not the heaters." + +"No. It's the pump. The air-intake pump down in the pile room." +O'Mallory's voice grew higher. "It's working overtime, sucking in more +hydrogen. Don't ask me why! I don't know! Nobody does!" + +"Wait," said Catherine eagerly. "If the room's losing its warm gas, and +having to replace it from the cold stuff outside, would that account +for the trouble we're having?" + +"No," said O'Mallory dully. "We can't figure out where the hydrogen's +disappearing to, and anyway it shouldn't make that much difference. The +energy output down there's about what it's supposed to be, you know." + +Gilchrist stood trying to think. His brain felt gelid. + +But damn it, damn it, damn it, there must be a rational answer. He +couldn't believe they had blundered into an ugly unknown facet of the +cosmos. Natural law was the same, here or in the farthest galaxy--it +had to be. + +Item, he thought wearily. The pile was operating as usual, except that +somehow hydrogen was being lost abnormally fast and therefore the pump +had to bring in more from Triton's air. But-- + +--Item. That couldn't be due to a leak in the heating pipes, because +they were still at their ordinary pressure. + +--Item. The gas in the pipes included some radioactive isotope. +Nevertheless-- + +--Item. It could not be hydrogen-3, because the pile was working +normally and its neutron leakage just wasn't enough to produce that +much. Therefore, some other element was involved. + +Carbon? There was a little methane vapor in Triton's atmosphere. But +not enough. Anyway, carbon-13 was a stable isotope, and the pile-room +conditions wouldn't produce carbon-14. Unless-- + +_Wait a minute!_ Something flickered on the edge of awareness. + +Danton had buttonholed O'Mallory. "We were talking about using the +battery banks," he said. + +The engineer shrugged. "And what happens after they're used up? No, +we're keeping them as a last resort." His grin was hideous. "We could +get six or seven comfortable days out of them." + +"Then let's have them! If you thumb-fingered idiots haven't fixed the +system by then, you deserve to die." + +"And you'll die right along with us, laddybuck." O'Mallory bristled. +"Don't think the black gang's loafing. We're taking the cold and the +radiation as much as you are--" + +"_Radiation?_" + +Faces turned around. Gilchrist saw eyes gleam white. The word rose in a +roar, and a woman screamed. + +"Shut up!" bawled O'Mallory frantically. "Shut up!" + +Danton shouted and swung at him. The engineer shook his head and hit +back. As Danton lurched, a man rabbit-punched O'Mallory from behind. + +Gilchrist yanked Catherine away. The mob spilled over, a sudden storm. +He heard a table splinter. + +Someone leaped at him. He had been an educated man, a most scientific +and urbane man, but he had just been told that hard radiation was +pouring through his body and he ran about and howled. Gilchrist +had a glimpse of an unshaven face drawn into a long thin box with +terror, then he hit. The man came on, ignoring blows, his own fists +windmilling. Gilchrist lowered his head and tried clumsily to take the +fury on his arms. Catherine, he thought dizzily, Catherine was at least +behind him. + +The man yelled. He sat down hard and gripped his stomach, retching. +Alemán laughed shortly. "A good kick is advisable in such unsporting +circumstances, _mi amigo_." + +"Come on," gasped Catherine. "We've got to get help." + +They fled down a tunnel of blackness. The riot noise faded behind, and +there was only the hollow slapping of their feet. + +Lights burned ahead, Vesey's office. A pair of engineer guards tried to +halt them. Gilchrist choked out an explanation. + +Vesey emerged and swore luridly, out of hurt and bewilderment at his +own people. "And we haven't a tear gas bomb or a needler in the place!" +He brooded a moment, then whirled on Jahangir, who had come out behind +him. "Get a tank of compressed ammonia gas from the chem section and +give 'em a few squirts if they're still kicking up when you arrive. +That ought to quiet them without doing any permanent damage." + +The chief nodded and bounded off with his subordinates. In this +gravity, one man could carry a good-sized tank. + +Vesey beat a fist into his palm. There was agony on his face. + +Catherine laid a hand on his arm. "You've no choice," she said gently. +"Ammonia is rough stuff, but it would be worse if children started +getting trampled." + +Gilchrist, leaning against the wall, straightened. It was as if a bolt +had snapped home within him. His shout hurt their eardrums. + +"_Ammonia!_" + +"Yes," said Vesey dully. "What about it?" Breath smoked from his mouth, +and his skin was rough with gooseflesh. + +"I--I--I--It's your ... y-y-your _answer_!" + + * * * * * + +They had set up a heater in his laboratory so he could work, but the +test was quickly made. Gilchrist turned from his apparatus and nodded, +grinning with victory. "That settles the matter. This sample from the +pile room proves it. The air down there is about half ammonia." + +Vesey looked red-eyed at him. There hadn't been much harm done in the +riot, but there had been a bad few minutes. "How's it work?" he asked. +"I'm no chemist." + +Alemán opened his mouth, then bowed grandly. "You tell him, Thomas. It +is your moment." + +Gilchrist took out a cigaret. He would have liked to make a cavalier +performance of it, with Catherine watching, but his chilled fingers +were clumsy and he dropped the little cylinder. She laughed and picked +it up for him. + +"Simple," he said. With technicalities to discuss, he could speak well +enough, even when his eyes kept straying to the girl. "What we have +down there is a Haber process chamber. It's a method for manufacturing +ammonia out of nitrogen and hydrogen--obsolete now, but still of +interest to physical chemists like myself. + +"I haven't tested this sample for nitrogen yet, but there's got to be +some, because ammonia is NH_{3}. Obviously, there's a vein of solid +nitrogen down under the Hill. As the heat from the pile room penetrated +downward, this slowly warmed up. Some of it turned gaseous, generating +terrific pressure; and finally that pressure forced the gas up into the +pile room. + +"Now, when you have a nitrogen-hydrogen mixture at 500 degrees and 600 +atmospheres, in the presence of a suitable catalyst, you get about a 45 +percent yield of ammonia--" + +"You looked that up," said Catherine accusingly. + +He chuckled. "My dear girl," he said, "there are two ways to know a +thing: you can know it, or you can know where to look it up. I prefer +the latter." After a moment: "Naturally, this combination decreases +the total volume of gas; so the pump has to pull in more hydrogen from +outside to satisfy its barystat, and more nitrogen is welling from +below all the time. We've been operating quite an efficient little +ammonia factory down there, though it should reach equilibrium as to +pressure and yield pretty soon. + +"The Haber process catalyst, incidentally, is spongy iron with certain +promoters--potassium and aluminum oxides are excellent ones. In other +words, it so happened that the Hill is a natural Haber catalyst, which +is why we've had this trouble." + +"And I suppose the reaction is endothermic and absorbs heat?" asked +Catherine. + +"No ... as a matter of fact, it's exothermic, which is why the pile +is actually a little hotter than usual, and that in spite of having +to warm up all that outside air. But ammonia does have a considerably +higher specific heat than hydrogen. So, while the gas in our pipes has +the same caloric content, it has a lower temperature." + +"Ummm--" Vesey rubbed his chin. "And the radiation?" + +"Nitrogen plus neutrons gives carbon-14, a beta emitter." + +"All right," said Catherine. "Now tell us how to repair the situation." + +Her tone was light--after all, the answer was obvious--but it didn't +escape Gilchrist that she _had_ asked him to speak. Or was he thinking +wishfully? + +"We turn off the pile, empty the pipes, and go into the room in +spacesuits," he said. "Probably the simplest thing would be to drill +an outlet for the nitrogen vein and drop a thermite bomb down +there ... that should flush it out in a hurry. Or maybe we can lay an +impermeable floor. In any event, it shouldn't take more than a few +days, which the batteries will see us through. Then we can go back to +operation as usual." + +Vesey nodded. "I'll put Jahangir on it right away." He stood up and +extended his hand. "As for you, Dr. Gilchrist, you've saved all our +lives and--" + +"Shucks." His cheeks felt hot. "It was my own neck too." + +Before his self-confidence could evaporate, he turned to Catherine. +"Since we can't get back to work for a few days, how about going down +to the bar for a drink? I believe it'll soon be functioning again. +And, uh, there'll doubtless be a dance to celebrate later--" + +"I didn't know you could dance," she said. + +"I can't," he blurted. + +They went out together. It is not merely inorganic reactions which +require a catalyst. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Catalysis, by Poul Anderson + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59373 *** |