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The Andromeda Strain Part 14

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0097 06 23 NEGATIVE, KENNEDY. STANDING BY.

0097 06 36 HOUSTON, THIS IS SCOOP MC. CAN YOUR PROJECTION GROUP GIVE US ANYTHING.

0097 06 46 Scoop, at this time we cannot. Our computers have insufficient data. They still read stable orbit with all systems going.

0097 07 22 Scoop MC, this is Grand Bahama Station. We report pa.s.sby of your craft Scoop Seven according to schedule. Preliminary radar fixes were normal with question of increased transit times. Please hold for systems telemetry.

0097 07 25 HOLDING, GRAND BAHAMA.



0097 07 29 Scoop MC, we are sorry to say we confirm Kennedy observations, Repeat, we confirm Kennedy observations of systems malfunction. Our data are on the trunk to Houston. Can they be routed to you as well. station.

0097 07 34 NO, WE WILL WAIT FOR HOUSTON'S PRINTOUT. THEY HAVE LARGER PREDICTIVE BANKING UNITS.

0097 07 36 Scoop MC, Houston has the Bahama Data. It is going through the Dispar Program. Give us ten seconds.

0097 07 47 Scoop MC, this is Houston. The Dispar Program confirms systems malfunction. Your vehicle is now in unstable orbit with increased transit time of zero point three seconds per unit of arc. We are a.n.a.lyzing orbital parameters at this time. Is there anything further you wish as interpreted data.

0097 07 59 NO, HOUSTON. SOUNDS LIKE YOU'RE DOING BEAUTIFULLY.

0097 08 10 Sorry, Scoop. Bad break.

0097 08 18 GET US THE DECAY RATIOS AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. COMMAND WISHES TO MAKE ADECISION ON INSTRUMENTATION TAKEDOWN WITHIN THE NEXT TWO ORBITS.

0097 08 32 Understand, Scoop. Our condolences here.

0097 11 35 Scoop, Houston Projection Group has confirmed orbital instability and decay ratios are now being pa.s.sed by the data trunk to your station.

0097 11 44 HOW DO THEY LOOK, HOUSTON.

0097 11 51 Bad.

0097 11 59 NOT UNDERSTOOD. PLEASE REPEAT.

0097 12 07 Bad: B as in broken, A as in awful, D as in dropping.

0097 12 15 HOUSTON, DO YOU HAVE A CAUSATION.THAT SATELLITE HAS BEEN IN EXCELLENT ORBIT FOR NEARLY ONE HUNDRED HOURS. WHAT HAPPENED TO IT.

0097 12 29 Beats us. We wonder about collision. There is a good wobble component to the new orbit.

0097 12 44 HOUSTON, OUR COMPUTERS ARE WORKING THROUGH THE TRANSMITTED DATA. WE AGREE A COLLISION. HAVE YOU GUYS GOT SOMETHING IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD.

0097 13 01 Air Force Skywatch confirms our report that we have nothing around your baby, Scoop.

0097 13 50 HOUSTON, OUR COMPUTERS ARE READING THIS AS A RANDOM EVENT. PROBABILITIES GREATER THAN ZERO POINT SEVEN NINE.

0097 15 00 We can add nothing. Looks reasonable. Are you going to bring it down.

0097 15 15 WE ARE HOLDING ON THAT DECISION, HOUSTON. WE WILL NOTIFY AS SOON AS IT IS MADE.

0097 17 54 HOUSTON, OUR COMMAND GROUP HAS RAISED THE QUESTION OF WHETHER*************************.

0097 17 59 [reply from Houston deleted]

0097 18 43 [Scoop query to Houston deleted]

0097 19 03 [reply from Houston deleted]

0097 19 11 AGREE, HOUSTON. WE WILL MAKE OUR DECISION AS SOON AS WE HAVE FINAL CONFIRMATION OF ORBITAL SHUTDOWN FROM SYDNEY. IS THIS ACCEPTABLE.

0097 19 50Perfectly, Scoop. We are standing by.

0097 24 32 HOUSTON, WE ARE REWORKING OUR DATA AND NO LONGER CONSIDER THAT********IS LIKELY.

0097 24 39 Roger, Scoop.

0097 29 13 HOUSTON, WE ARE STANDING BY FOR SYDNEY.

0097 34 54 Scoop Mission Control, this is Sydney Station. We have just followed the pa.s.sby of your vehicle. Our initial readings confirm a prolonged transit time. It is quite striking at this time.

0097 35 12 THANK YOU, SYDNEY.

0097 35 22 Bit of nasty luck, Scoop. Sorry.

0097 39 02 THIS IS SCOOP MISSION CONTROL TO ALL STATIONS. OUR COMPUTERS HAVE JUST CALCULATED THE ORBITAL DECAY FOR THE VEHICLE AND WE FIND IT TO BE COMING DOWN AS A PLUS FOUR. STANDBY FOR THE FINAL DECISION AS TO WHEN WE WILL BRING IT DOWN.

Hall said, "What about the deleted pa.s.sages?"

"Major Manchek at Vandenberg told me," Stone said, "that they had to do with the Russian craft in the area. The two stations eventually concluded that the Russians had not, either accidentally or purposely, brought down the Scoop satellite. No one has since suggested differently."

They nodded.

"It's tempting," Stone said. "The Air Force maintains a watchdog facility in Kentucky that tracks all satellites in earth orbit. It has a dual function, both to follow old satellites known to be in orbit and to track new ones. There are twelve satellites in orbit at this time that cannot be accounted for; in other words, they are not ours, and are not the result of announced Soviet launches. It is thought that some of these represent navigation satellites for Soviet submarines. Others are presumed to be spy satellites. But the important thing is that Russian or not, there are a h.e.l.l of a lot of satellites up there. As of last Friday, the Air Force reported five hundred and eighty-seven orbiting bodies around the earth. This includes some old, nonfunctioning satellites from the American Explorer series and the Russian Sputnik series. It also includes boosters and final stages-- anything in stable orbit large enough to reflect back a radar beam."

"That's a lot of satellites."

"Yes, and there are probably many more. The Air Force thinks there is a lot of junk out there-- nuts, bolts, sc.r.a.ps of metal-- all in more or less stable orbit. No orbit, as you know, is completely stable. Without frequent corrections, any satellite will eventually decay out and spiral down to earth, burning up in the atmosphere. But that may be years, even decades, after the launch. In any event, the Air Force estimates that the total number of individual orbiting objects could be anything up to seventy-five thousand."

"So a collision with a piece of junk is possible."

"Yes. Possible."

"How about a meteor?"

"That is the other possibility, and the one Vandenberg favors. A random event, most likely a meteor."

"Any showers these days?"

"None, apparently. But that does not rule out a meteor collision."

Leavitt cleared his throat. "There is still another possibility."

Stone frowned. He knew that Leavitt was imaginative, and that this trait was both a strength and a defect. At times, Leavitt could be startling and exciting; at others, merely irritating. "It's rather farfetched," Stone said, "to postulate debris from some extragalactic source other than--"

"I agree," Leavitt said. "Hopelessly farfetched. No evidence for it whatever. But I don't think we can afford to ignore the possibility."

A gong sounded softly. A lush female voice, which Hall now recognized as that of Gladys Stevens of Omaha, said softly, "You may proceed to the next level, gentlemen."

13. Level V

LEVEL V WAS PAINTED A QUIET SHADE OF BLUE, AND they all wore blue uniforms. Burton showed Hall around.

"This floor," he said, "is like all the others. It's circular. Arranged in a series of concentric circles, actually. We're on the outer perimeter now; this is where we live and work. Cafeteria, sleeping rooms, everything is out here. Just inside is a ring of laboratories. And inside that, sealed off from us, is the central core. That's where the satellite and the two people are now."

"But they're sealed off from us?"

"Yes."

"Then how do we get to them?"

"Have you ever used a glove box?" Burton asked.

Hall shook his head.

Burton explained that glove boxes were large clear plastic boxes used to handle sterile materials. The boxes had holes cut in the sides, and gloves attached with an airtight seal. To handle the contents, you slipped your hands into the gloves and reached into the box. But your fingers never touched the material, only the gloves.

"We've gone one step further," Burton said. "We have whole rooms that are nothing more than glorified glove boxes. Instead of a glove for your hand, there's a whole plastic suit, for your entire body. You'll see what I mean."

They walked down the curved corridor to a room marked CENTRAL CONTROL. Leavitt and Stone were there, working quietly. Central Control was a cramped room, stuffed with electronic equipment. One wall was gla.s.s, allowing the tails, were considered particularly trying. Many a scientist workers to look into the adjacent room.

Through the gla.s.s, Hall saw mechanical hands moving thecapsule to a table and setting it down. Hall, who had neverseen a capsule before, watched with interest. It was smaller than he had imagined, no more than a yard long; one end was seared and blackened from the heat of reentry.

The mechanical hands, under Stone's direction, opened the little scoop-shaped trough in the side of the capsule to expose the interior.

"There," Stone said, taking his hands from the controls. The controls looked like a pair of bra.s.s knuckles; the operator slipped his own hands into them and moved his hands as he wanted the mechanical hands to move.

"Our next step," he said, "is to determine whether there is still anything in the capsule which is biologically active.Suggestions?"

"A rat," Leavitt said. "Use a black Norway."

The black Norway rat was not black at all; the name simply designated a strain of laboratory animal, perhaps the most famous strain in all science. Once, of course, it had beenboth black and Norwegian; but years of breeding and countless generations had made it white, small, and docile. The biological explosion had created a demand for genetically uniform animals. In the last thirty years more than a thousand strains of "pure" animals had been evolved artificially.In the case of the black Norwegian, it was now possible for ascientist anywhere in the world to conduct experiments using this animal and be a.s.sured that other scientists elsewhere could repeat or enlarge upon his work using virtually identical organisms.

"Follow with a rhesus," Burton said. "We will want to get onto primates sooner or later.The others nodded. Wildfire was prepared to conduct experiments with monkeys and apes, as well as smaller, cheaper animals. A monkey was exceedingly difficult to work with: the little primates were hostile, quick, intelligent. Amongscientists, the New World monkeys, with their prehensile tails, were considered particularly trying.Many scientists had engaged three or four lab a.s.sistants to hold down a monkey while he administered an injection-- only to have the prehensile tail whip up, grasp the syringe, and fling it across the room.

The theory behind primate experimentation was that these animals were closer biologically to man. In the 1950's, several laboratories even attempted experiments on gorillas, going to great trouble and expense to work with these seemingly most human of animals. However, by 1960 it had been demonstrated that of the apes, the chimpanzee was biochemically more like man than the gorilla. (On the basis of similarity to man, the choice of laboratory animals is often surprising. For example, the hamster is preferred for immunological and cancer studies, since his responses are so similar to man's, while for studies of the heart and circulation, the pig is considered most like man.) Stone put his hands back on the controls, moving them gently. Through the gla.s.s, they saw the black metal fingers move to the far wall of the adjoining room, where several caged lab animals were kept, separated from the room by hinged airtight doors. The wall reminded Hall oddly of an automat.

The mechanical hands opened one door and removed a rat in its cage, brought it into the room, and set it down next to the capsule. The rat looked around the room, sniffed the air, and made some stretching movements with its neck. A moment later it flopped over onto its side, kicked once, and was still.

It had happened with astonis.h.i.+ng speed. Hall could hardly believe it had happened at all.

"My G.o.d," Stone said. "What a time course."

"That will make it difficult," Leavitt said.

Burton said, "We can try tracers..."

"Yes. We'll have to use tracers on it," Stone said. "How fast are our scans?"

"Milliseconds, if necessary."

"It will be necessary."

"Try the rhesus, " Burton said. "You'll want a post on it, anyway."

Stone directed the mechanical hands back to the wall, opening another door and withdrawing a cage containing a large brown adult rhesus monkey. The monkey screeched as it was lifted and banged against the bars of its cage.

Then it died, after flinging one hand to its chest with a look of startled surprise.

Stone shook his head. "Well, at least we know it's still biologically active. Whatever killed everyone in Piedmont is still there, and still as potent as ever. " He sighed. "If potent is the word."

Leavitt said, "We'd better start a scan of the capsule."

"I'll take these dead animals," Burton said, "and run the initial vector studies. Then I'll autopsy them."

Stone worked the mechanical hands once more. He picked up the cages that held the rat and monkey and set them on a rubber conveyor belt at the rear of the room. Then he pressed a b.u.t.ton on a control console marked AUTOPSY. The conveyor belt began to move.

Burton left the room, walking down the corridor to the autopsy room, knowing that the conveyor belt, made to carry materials from one lab to another, would have automatically delivered the cages.

Stone said to Hall, "You're the practicing physician among us. I'm afraid you've got a rather tough job right now."

"Pediatrician and geriatrist?"

"Exactly. See what you can do about them. They're both in our miscellaneous room, the room we built precisely for unusual circ.u.mstances like this. There's a computer linkup there that should help you. The technician will show you how it works."

14. Miscellaneous

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