'City of Fresno'

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

Yeah, tool-less 'Service Access' is an essential consideration...
One of the classic 'Epic Failures' was the small, imported car, brand [REDACTED] where, to change headlamp bulb on driver's side, you gotta jack up car and remove that corner's wheel. Then the horn. Then, under hood, the battery. Now, slimmest mechanic or co-opted bystander could snake arm up from beside wheel-hub, disengage the lamp's connector and bayonet fitting...

Along with a bunch of other bemused folk, I watched this comic-opera of a biz outside local 'car spares' place, joined the heartfelt applause...
Happens it was the Haynes Guide's recommended procedure: All alternative approaches had failed, they reluctantly admitted...

So, my piping will be screw-boxed to 'ample clearance' above the Chonky Thing.
Then, I'm fitting a split cover which tucks behind the whatsit. The halves overlap via a 'doubler', attached to left half with magnetic tape, right glued. The halves' edges secure to their 18mm battens via 12mm CSK ring-magnets paired N/S. Battens get inset 'S', held by 4mm CSK screws. Halves get 'N', bolted through the 6mm / ¼" hardboard cover to neat bow-handles with M4 CSK bolts instead of their supplied pan-heads...

If this seems a tad contrived, I've done similar before. Needed to re-attach a kitchen unit's kick-strip. Repairing water damage had meant replacing proprietary, now unavailable legs, along with their so-clever integral 'plinth clips'. I used 10 mm magnets for that, with M3 screws --Clunk-click !! These Halves needed M4 fixings to match their 'standard' handles, hence the 12mm magnets...
As ever, much trawling through Amazon had resolved yet-another unwelcome yet fascinating 'side-quest'...

For the record, I did consider self-adhesive hook-loop tape, but the offset would have been just too obvious. And, potentially, a temptation for our Poltercats. Scant clearance beside pipes for cupboard-catch hardware, as clips or magnets. Removable pin hinges ? Ha !! Little sickle-latches, as on music boxes ? No access to LHS. Ditto tool-box over-centre latches...
D'uh...

[jemhouston]

I think it was the Cadillac Cimmaron (?) where you had to unbolt the engine and jack it up to change one spark plug.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

This hapless city-car was circa 2010...

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

#36 was stuck for several weeks due to iterative side-quests and near-fractal problems in kitchen. Suddenly, after a bunch of stuff 'came together' there, I dared re-direct creativity, un-snarl some clunky exposition. So, with #36 safely 'bedded', here's...

City of Fresno #35

Anne-Marie was off some-where doing 'Ponics'. I was blearily tackling my impressive backlog of research 'hits' and 'Admin' messages when the video call icon chimed the jingle I'd set to flag 2nd Lt. Svenson.

"G'day !" My deranged body-clock and residual weariness did not allow loquacity.

"Ah, Mr. Kinson ! I'm glad I caught you !

"Fresno's scans have found a dozen-kilometre object in our neighbourhood. About half a million kilometres out, two 'Lunar' distances. Surface spectrum suggests a pristine Oort 'comet nucleus'."

"An iceteroid." I nodded slowly. "Something we could mine ?"

"Yes." He studied my drawn face and ragged stubble. "Rock tug 'Cwm Fahr' hopes to head there in about twelve hours. Will you be available ?"

I queried my medical augments, warily extrapolated their report. "Yes, given some hours down-time en-route. Uh, the 'Cwm Fahr' crew mentioned they had appropriate 'Blasters'. Did their query about surface safety anchors circulate ?"

"Yes. The Engineers have several crates of them for inspection and repair of the end-shields."

"The end-shields..." My wits stirred. "Have they any 'Hard-Suits', too ? Even a much lower specification than my 'Big Mac' would still, um, suit traipsing around on what's effectively a small, rocky, micro-g moonlet."

"Indeed..." He blinked. "Yes, they do. Unfortunately, beyond the adult tug-crews and an equally essential handful of Fresno Crew, we have very few familiar with that environment. Certainly no-one with even a fraction of your logged hours..."

"Which makes building a full team essential. And urgent. Upside, I'm qualified to do their training. Also, stripping those evac-pods has identified a fair number of folk who are competent in micro-g..." I ran the math. "Okay, with practice, well-kept hard-suits can be sufficiently sanitised, replenished and ready to sortie again within an hour. Two at most. My medical augments give me some lee-way, but there's usually strict limits on operator hours. Barring 'exigencies', of course...

"So, if some 'Body Odour' is acceptable and, importantly, suits do not need re-sizing, they may be worn in shifts."

"Akin to 'Hot Bunking' ?"

"Yes," I replied. "I do not recommend it but, for about a week, you can get about 20 hours use out of 24 from a 'regular' hard-suit. Then it needs a full strip, scrub and service. Allow a full day for that phase."

"A full day ?"

"I can do 'Big Mac' in much less," I allowed, "because its systems are configured for extended endurance. In many ways, 'Big Mac' is more 'work-pod' than 'hard-suit'. Again, I do not recommend pushing a 'regular' hard-suit's envelope. Far too many ways for 'Stoopids' to creep in, and Dire Lord Murphy to 'Bag & Tag'."

"Ah... So we need to train as many operators as we can, grouped by compatible size..."

"Yes. Plus support workers." I shrugged. "I'm fully qualified to do all my hard-suit maintenance and system checks, but shift operators are less fortunate. They must rely on support workers who, like 'parachute packers', they must trust with their life."

"Who you must also train..."

"Yes."

Lt. Svenson was silent for long, long seconds before saying, "Stay safe, Mr. Kinson."

[jemhouston]

I see a single point of failure.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #36

The following morning, after breakfast, Anne-Marie marshalled the local volunteers she'd organised to move my 'Big Mac' space-crates. Some of the folk simply wanted a break in the monotony. Some craved a sight-seeing jaunt up the docking leg. Some reckoned they owed us for dealing with 'Mater Harris'. Whatever, they cheerfully trundled my hefty crates to the lift, through the spin-drum's rotating locks to the leg, then outwards. We passed several emergency shutters, being double made them usable as air-locks in-extremis. Eventually, we came to the designated, outer-most docking port group: One on each 'leg' face, a fifth at the blunt tip. There were some 'portholes', actually armoured periscopes to prevent hyper-velocity 'through & throughs', but wall-screens clearly showed the activity outside. Spacing folk loved CCTV, especially if it saved a hazard or walk. And always, always resolution to spare, given 'minor' details could make the difference between 'OK' and 'WTF ?'

Like a cabin's screen, 'under the lid' these were full-blown PCs so, in addition to image enhancement and status on the air-locks and docking, they could also support messaging and library queries. A thought occurred: How many such were there ? The spin drums had one in each cabin, several in the diners, albeit mostly advertising menu options, and at least two in the laundry area. There were some in the hall-ways, and I vaguely remembered a pair in the stewards' suite. I'd have to ask, but I suspected Fresno had a lot of parallel computing power available, hid in plain sight...

Right on schedule, rock-tug 'Cwm Fahr' disengaged their hab-can's two axial locks from Fresno's docking legs. Gracefully moving outwards to beyond leg tips, 'Cwm Fahr' then disengaged from its hab-can, moved axially to clear. A precise combination of side-shifts and reverse neatly clamped the hab-can to one side. 'Cwm Fahr' then moved the hab-can back to its original docking ports, waited until secure.

'Cwm Fahr' disengaged, side-shifted between docking legs to grapple a 'collection' pod and move it clear. Heading back along Fresno, the rock tug part-turned, edged in, plucked out the 'Front End' pod, moved it clear, docked it axially. Then, despite off-balance load and Fresno's rotation, headed our way as if on rails. It was nice flying. With no bright star or planet in view, only my Nav augment warned of the inherent complexity. I suppressed the urge to hum 'Blue Danube' lest it set my porters and Anne-Marie to waltzing...

Rather than dock parallel, 'Cwm Fahr' tilted, presented an unobstructed corner's 'ball' and its air-lock to our 'leg' end-port. Grapples engaged, systems conferred, agreed we had secure attachment and atmosphere. Technically, the tug was flying 'Close Coupled'. Our side soon opened upon Ms. Betrys. Crate by crate, she efficiently cycled them and their porters through the 'leg' lock, across the docking flange, through the tug's lock, aboard, around the first 'ring' to their designated storage location.

Then, the tour. Ms. Betrys was a willing, eloquent guide, whom we followed through that forward 'ring', down a 'long', around and back. She certainly knew her history...

It all began with 'soft' vac-suits and their EVA rigs. Some were superseded by articulated hard-suits, ancestors to my 'Big Mac'. Due kinship with 'Atmospheric Diving' gear, they were called 'Newts' or 'Nuyts'. For heavier work, there were grapple-equipped work-pods, inevitably 'HALs'. With cab stretched to a compact mini-hab, 'Push-Pots' could dock a similar 'service' module astern, external cargo rails augmenting internal tankage to greatly extend endurance, range and load-out. In time, they evolved to our familiar deep-space work-pods. These still had the mini-hab add-on option. I'd heard they were even being used as 'picket ships', cargo rails laden with magazines of small, but 'smart' missiles.

Generations of 'Push-Pots' grew by √5 iterations until their pentagonal 'space frame' with 'Field Poles' and cargo clamps gained enough internal volume to dispense with the central cab / mini-hab. Thus were born the 'Trojan' tugs, intended to service 'Venturer', the prototype 'City-Class' star-ship.

For Anne-Marie and most of my porters, this tour was their first such visit to a rock-tug. The common reaction was how disconcertingly claustrophobic the interior. Yes, any 'Trojan Class' was big by most standards, with 'rings' and 'longs' essentially the same imposing diameter as a Fresno truss longeron. Commonality, of course, of course ! But, where a ship-truss' pipe had ample space for a 'transit' pod and service ducts, a tug's 'long' was some-what busier. A 2.4 x 1.2 metre grille-work access gantry ran through each, arranged radially to provide an 'up and down' if tug was gently spun. Serious triangulated bracing provided ample 'hard points' to anchor heavy stuff such as Field Poles, tankage and external grapples / pod-clamps. The rest of each 'long' was filled, nay, crammed with equipment, all accessible from that gantry-- Hulking Field Poles and fusors, complex HVAC and recycle modules, tankage, tankage, tankage, spares and consumables, ducts, plumbing, conduits and cable-trays in wits-numbing complexity.

Each 'long' was logically mirrored fore/aft of the five-metre 'Midway', its three-way airlock book-ended by pressure bulkheads. This toroid usually held a compact work-shop, spares storage and tiny zero-g washroom but, on a '3-g Deep' tug, also housed a hefty auxiliary 'Field Pole' and its close-coupled Fusor. The HVAC provision of a 'long' seemed excessive until you realised all that gantry provided enough raw volume to sling a lot of go-bags and hammock / bed-sacks. Though far from ideal, with congestion resembling canned sardines or pressed dates, you could cram a lot of people aboard. I'd flown such 'steerage' on a ferry run when a hab / spin-drum was not available. We numbered but a couple of dozen, spread through five 'longs', yet soon very, very glad of the air-gaps. Even an 'Evac' pod was luxurious by comparison.

The five 'longs' were identical beyond labels and their modules' minor quirks. Likewise, the ten 'ring' pipes. Within their globe shells, the ten corner 'nodes' had identical topology, but various content. At each end, they provided air-lock, cockpit / mini-bridge, ice-slicer turret, kitchenette and crew bunking. One set ran clock-wise, the other widdershins but offset. Usually, the kitchenette and bunking furthest from the primary cockpit / bridge were designated for 'medical' and passengers. Also, the two pop-up turrets could, between them, sweep every-which-way, yet combine on one wide arc to ice-slice or deliver a scary 'broadside'. Given Rock Tugs were initially armed thus to rend Anwyc 'Needle Ships', and did so when 'Venturer' was attacked during that historic 'First Expedition', scant wonder this feature endured.

A standard corner node linked three ways, but a derivative had four, to link 'longs' for a mid-ring or mid-rings. This allowed custom designs, 'stretch' haulers and such, with three, four even five rings. When the 'Other' attacks began, 'Four Ringers' gave a way to urgently embrace and upgrade sleek Aerospace Corvettes to braw 'Composite Frigates'. That such 'Civilian' tech just 'Plug -n- Played' with the 'MilSpec' was a tribute to Floater Industries' wary foresight.

The next tug design iteration, the √5 bigger 'Paladin', was intended to service the long-planned 'Metro-Class' star-ships, which would progressively complement then supersede our familiar 'City' and 'City-Plus' ships on the main routes. Their prototypes' components, hastily re-purposed as 'Four Ringers', were now paired with Aerospace Frigates as scary 'Composite Light Cruisers'...

Beyond those lay a development road-map rudely accelerated by the 'Other' war. A factor of √5 bigger than 'Paladins' would be 'Hyades', for 'Metro-Plus' star-ships. A further factor of √5 would give 'Pleiades' tugs and 'Capital Class' ships. Unlike my Great-Uncle Tony, I was no 'Insider'. Still, given my familiarity with mining / ice-slicing lasers, blasters and such, plus some wary extrapolation, I'd a fair idea what a 'Pleiades' tug or derived 'Four Ringer' might haul into battle...

[jemhouston]

That such 'Civilian' tech just 'Plug -n- Played' with the 'MilSpec' was a tribute to Floater Industries' wary foresight.

I'm wondering if Civilian tech is the MilSpec stuff that fails MilSpec standards, but still meets the commercial stands.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

It's... Darker than that,
Decades before Earth scientists developed 'Field Poles', Ed 'Floater' Winters and his team learned about the bio-pirating Anwyce and their Needle Ships the hard way. One 'Dark and Stormy Night', out to rescue / un-ditch some drunken farmers, young Ed interrupted a raid. His big recovery truck blew through the perps' zap-field and squidged them. Ed and his shocked-sober allies hid the Needle Ship in a disused rail tunnel. Took a long, long time before they could reverse-engineer anything useful. In fact, took seeing Earth's independently developed 'Poles' to really figure that Needle Ship's anti-grav tech.

And its FTL ? Needle Ships were long thought to be in-system only, flown off a 'Carrier' some-where obscurely trans-Neptunian.
Took until 'Venturer_2' to crack that one...

But, the Anwyce were ETs, albeit distant relatives. Seems their hominid ancestors had been taken about 150,000 years ago, then bred up as servitors...
With proven 'Bad Attitude', so 'Due Care' required. Even if these raiders were 'unauthorised / independent / deprecated', their culture was flawed.
So, 'Skyhook industries', later 'Floater Industries', laid their plans.
Modularity, a near-surfeit of modularity, the 'Liberty Ship Lesson', for swift 'Mil-Spec' custom-builds. Also, better damage control for civilian mishaps.
Hard-points to mount weaponry. Data runs to control such. Software to enable civilians to 'Designate and Target', be it iceteroid or Anwyce.
Ongoing dialog with the Convention's small 'Aerospace Marine Corps': What would be useful should SHTF ??

[jemhouston]

Darker maybe, common sense, yes

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #37

Olwyn Jones supervised Ms. Betrys air-locking my porters through to Fresno three or four at a time. Last was Anne-Marie. She and I parted with a huge hug and kiss. Our clinch was long enough to raise Olwyn's eye-brows and wide-eyed Ms. Betrys to take note. After we came up for air, Anne-Marie said, "Remember, Jake, set 'Situational Awareness' to 'Super-Paranoid', be safe."

"Will do," I replied. "Love you."

She polled the others with a grim look. They nodded by turn. She and I exchanged a final, eloquent finger-tips touch, then off she went.

The tug's lock cycled, the leg's lock cycled. Both Olwyn and Ms. Betrys confirmed all clear to the tug's forward mini-bridge, set the docking flange to pump down. Olwyn waited for the duplicate displays to confirm, pressed the intercom button, reported, "Bridge, Forward lock cleared. We're good to go."

"Fresno departure authorised: Delta-Vee horn !" Davyd announced over the PA system, cued a raucous honk. As the three of us found holds, came, "Un-clamping. Going tangential."

The lock grapples released. 'Cwm Fahr' flew free. At this point, a shuttle or tug departing ship or station would usually engage cold verniers, ghost out to several hundred metres, then warily tickle the Field Poles until clear of dock authority. Now, to conserve volatiles, Davyd just waited while tangential motion carried us clear of our docking leg. Gradually, more and more of Fresno turned away 'beneath' us in periscope and CCTV views. At last, we were sufficiently distant that waking the tug's Field Poles would not interact significantly with Fresno's. Yes, the star-ship's Field was on, albeit idling: This protected against cosmic rays, hyper-velocity dust and such. It even limited the inter-stellar neutrino flux.

"Fresno reports us clear, dousing work-lights." The ship's many, many leg, box and truss luminaires quenched to just essential 'riding' lights around the end-shields' rims and atop the legs.

"Delta-Vee horn !" That repeated raucous honk cued us to brace our stance. The tug's Field ramped up to a quarter-g, and we were off. Even this modest boost gave us a clear 'up and down' through the ring's gangway. Olwyn led the way around to the mini-bridge, where Davyd warned, "The g-gradient is low enough for a 'skip', but Fresno wants a report on the local interstellar medium, especially gas and dust density. Also, our iceteroid may have a diffuse halo of gravel, mini and micro moonlets. Though 'Cwm Fahr' could handle them, better safe than surprised."

"Can't argue with that, " I agreed. "And, suits me. I'll need some-where to un-crate and assemble 'Big Mac'. And, I need to walk a deputy or deputies through the check-out procedure."

"That's why we're here. " Olwyn nodded to her beaming daughter. "And Keith, who's been in the After-Bridge."

"Good." I took a breath, said, "It's all very straight-forward. 'Big Mac' has more in common with your work-pods and ship-systems than you'd expect. Still, the training material I've brought will make a lot more sense given hands-on. It really, really needs re-writing, especially for the shifts of 'civilians' we'll be recruiting...

"Then I'll need some down-time, get 'well-rested' ahead of my EVA...

"Hmm. Did Fresno's Engineers mention they have some lower-specification hard-suits for work on the end-shields and such ?"

"Yes," Davyd confirmed. "When 'Third Eng' Chuck Westerly delivered the promised crate of anchor lines. He's claimed a place near the top of the list to be trained."

"That's the problem with Fresno doing our 'Last Train' run with a skeleton crew," mused Olwyn. "Yes, we have lots of skilled people, but they're mostly good with tech we don't really need..."

"And precious few with the skills we do," grumbled Davyd, with a nod to Keith who'd just reached the hatch.

"I know," I admitted. "Anne-Marie has been trying to figure who and what it will take to boot-strap a 'Chemical Industry'. Convert iceteroid, gas-diver and 'Agro' gleanings to useful products. Yes, there's a lot of 'open' courses in Fresno's library, but folk who last did chemistry at college will need several years to re-boot their skills, work through 'Basic Chemistry'. At least they'll have Joe McDonald as mentor for 'Chem-Eng'...

"And the practical side ?" I shook my head. "They must craft so much equipment from scratch, make and purify most of the basic chemicals they'll need."

"Like us," Davyd muttered. "Make the tools to make the tools to make the tools and materials to re-work or replace so many essentials before our spares run out..."

"But the chemistry !!" Ms. Betrys whispered, again wide-eyed. "I was supposed to spend most of this year and next at Technical College on 'Avalon'. I've got the texts and media but, beyond our medical testing sets and HVAC / recycle sensors, nothing for bench work. No chromatography or distillation rigs. Not even generic reagents or test-tubes..."

"Boron's on the wish-list to make borosilicate flasks and such," I assured her. "We'll start with 'bench-top', grow to 'prep-size', progressively scale to 'process' equipment big enough for useful batch yields...

"Advantage of having ample power, vacuum and micro-g available is that glass making and working will be so much easier than on-planet. Like-wise, if stainless-steel would corrode, we can easily plasma-deposit a silica layer onto it..."

"Would those 'Agro' products include fibre for fabrics ?" Olywn suddenly asked. "I remember my Gran spinning and weaving wool for a winter scarf, back-stitching and patching frayed clothes, re-working out-worns to quilts."

"We've lots of cat-hair," Ms. Betrys quipped, "but no sheeps..."

"That's a head-scratcher," I agreed. "Likely to be several years before there's any fibre, grown or extruded. Never mind enough to be useful. Anne-Marie reckons our best route is rope-hemp rather than jute, cotton or flax. Height would suit planters with 'green walls' along corridors. But, last time she checked, no-one --No one !!-- claimed to be able to spin, knit or weave, never mind tailor broad-cloth to clothing..."

[jemhouston]

They're not base level yet, but in some respects at minus 5.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #38

Unlike my sister Sue, a dozen years' gap making our relationship more like aunt / nephew, I was not a natural teacher. I simply could not 'inspire'. Yes, I'd been thoroughly trained to 'engage', to teach my skills, but I was much, much more comfortable in a small, 'coaching' environment, with people who really, really wanted to learn.

Even better, Olwyn, Keith and Ms. Betrys already knew most of the 'needful'. It helped that, as I'd mentioned to Lt. Svenson, my 'Big Mac' was more 'work-pod' than 'hard-suit'. As Rock Tug crew, the three knew work-pods and their systems. Knew them 'Beyond Intimately'. How such applied to 'Big Mac' mostly required little more than a lateral look, an 'Ah ?' and several 'A-Ha !'

We got through a lot rapidly, checked back for 'Stoopids' and 'Murphy Bombs', found none. Then, while Keith took a 'watch' in the mini-bridge, Davyd threw a picnic meal together. After, I was allocated a bunk down at the stern, told to scrub and nap. My medical augments should stop scolding after several hours, with the rest a welcome bonus...

My Nav augment woke me after barely two hours. The Field sensor was complaining of repeated 'transients', the Tug's Delta-V horn was honking and, a few seconds later, we began braking at half-g. From my 'Rock Hopper' time, I knew these symptoms. I reached, touched the intercom.

"Bridge--"

"How bad's the dust ?" I quizzed Keith.

"Crikey ! How the--" He gathered his wits, "Worse than an Outback track, Jake. ETA's now several days."

"Hmm. Micro-meteoroids flash to plasma hitting atmosphere or a Drive Field. So, 'Cwm Fahr' may have a 'halo'. If Fresno can detect it, you could correlate your Field log."

"How could they know we'd meet dust ?" Davyd had reached the mini-bridge. He was not pleased.

"My guess, back-scatter. Lidar, really," I offered. "Beam a comm-laser, use 'Time Domain Reflectometry' as for a data cable, wave-guide or fibre optics...

"But, at best, 'Qualitative' rather than 'Quantitative': Heavily dependent on particle size and mix. May not warn of 'Outliers' in the distribution tail. Literally, 'Murphy Bombs'..."

"Strewth..." Keith was clearly unhappy.

"It's possible the fringe of Fresno's Field whacked, dispersed a small object..." I hesitated, added, "Or this could be typical of the local interstellar environment."

"Yeah, we're used to the 'Local Bubble'," Davyd allowed. "Real lean..."

"Upside, I clear my sleep debt," I stated. "And we've time to go a lot deeper into 'Big Mac' maintenance."

"Sounds like a win," Davyd admitted.

"Also, if you don't mind, I'd like to dig around in your systems' software. Ice-slicer turrets should have basic gleaning templates as standard." I thought for a moment, added, "We'll only be a few light-seconds out, perhaps we can take a look at your habs' turrets' software, too ??"

I didn't need video to reckon the mini-bridge pair had begun smiling. Truly, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If onions, relish...

[jemhouston]

Just don't make pickles.

[Belushi TD]

I kind of have the feeling that the majority of the crew is "trained" but our protagonist is "Super ultra mega trained" on all the various things we've seen so far. Sort of a hyper-savant, almost.

Belushi TD

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

"... Sort of a hyper-savant, almost."

Um, no. He's got a PhD in Geology and is qualified to run a 'Hard Suit' for 'Rock Hopping'.
Has a few side-skills...

Unlike today's astronauts who are qualified 'beyond belief', Jake's more like a 'Technical Diver'.
Non-trivial, but some-thing you or I could learn...

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #39

Over the next days, I fully trained all four Tuggers to prepare, use and service 'Big Mac'. In fact, I qualified them to train others. Olwyn, who 'Kept the Books' for 'Cwm Fahr', set Ms. Betrys to collating and dissecting the Tug's Field transient data. With the tug rotating just fast enough to keep food on plates on the table and heads on pillows, Davyd re-purposed an old but still functional 'Time Domain Reflectometry' instrument. He used back-scatter from the turrets' ice-slicer lasers to map along radials to our flight-path. Not quite 'side-scan', but close. Ms. Betrys duly added this data to her growing report.

At least we were now travelling slowly enough, relative to the iceteroid and its 'common motion' dust, that my Nav augment's alerts had subsided to the equivalent of gentle rain on the roof. Rather than, um, knuckle-jack hail-stones...

So, four and a half days later than originally planned, we crept up to our dozen kilometre target. Pinging the lump with radar and lidar had established axis, six-hour rotation and a preliminary surface map. Resolution progressively improved as we approached. Given different radar frequencies penetrated to different depths, we soon had some idea of the outermost stratification. A fully-equipped 'Rock Hopper' would proceed by sinking enough bore-holes to put numbers to these hints of layering. We lacked that luxury. I'd have to carve a set of pits and trenches, collect data on the fly...

Warily, 'Cwm Fahr' slid into a loose 'polar' orbit, about a kilometre off the iceteroid's highest peak. Technically, we were flying rings around the lump, as its escape velocity was very low. Usually, in-system, there was enough sun-light to see as-is or via vision intensification. Out here, it was dark, dark, dark. Davyd lit the Tug's powerful work-lights, cranked up CCTV scan sensitivity, gave us our first real look. Knobbled and knurled as too small to self-gravitate to a true spheroid, it resembled a large, ragged chunk of pumice. The radar assured us that, below that ancient, devolatilised, cosmic-ray re-worked surface, it was yet a 'Dirty Snowball'...

My delve into the Rock Tug's systems had found default 'ice-slicer' templates. Unfortunately, they wanted input from a sensor suite 'Cwm Fahr' lacked. To be precise, though the Tug did have the necessary sensors, more or less, we lacked the 'driver package' and complementary calibration set to transfer, analyse, interpret and present that data in a useful format. Still, I reckoned that, by the time I'd filled this first 'collection can', we'd have enough data to craft a fix. Even running as a clunky 'Look-Up' table rather than elegant algorithms, it should serve...

Hour by hour, as the lump turned beneath us, visual and radar mapping continued. Also, the iceteroid's micro-gravity was uneven. These slight variations were mostly below my Nav augment's modest threshold, but 'Cwm Fahr' had much, much better instruments. Ms. Betrys took the data, began mapping those mini-mascons. By the time I'd napped, eaten, napped again then suited-up, we'd have a sub-metre stereo / 3D model of the surface, and progressively deeper transects of the sub-surface. Our repeated passes over the lump's 'North' and 'South' poles from slightly different angles added welcome perspective detail. What that sorta-stratification plus sundry assorted 'lumps' actually meant, I'd soon discover.

[Belushi TD]

"... Sort of a hyper-savant, almost."

Um, no. He's got a PhD in Geology and is qualified to run a 'Hard Suit' for 'Rock Hopping'.
Has a few side-skills...

Unlike today's astronauts who are qualified 'beyond belief', Jake's more like a 'Technical Diver'.
Non-trivial, but some-thing you or I could learn...

Ehhh... I'm about 20 credits and a thesis short of a PhD in geology. I also have a few side skills. I do NOT, of course, have any qualifications for a "Hard Suit". However, I'm pretty sure that his "Side Skills" are pretty damn close to a PhD in engineering.

Also... His "side skills" are EXACTLY suited for what's needed.

Belushi TD

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #40

I suited-up just short of the front air-lock, carefully watched by Olwyn, Keith and Ms. Betrys, all working check-lists.

On 'Redstone', there was sufficient gravity to work 'Big Mac' in loose overalls plus a pee-catcher. Even so, I preferred the security and guaranteed hygiene of a 'skin-suit'. In micro-gravity, such as this iceteroid, a catheter and nappy were essential. A 'skin-suit' provided both. I wriggled into mine, coaxing my male saddle's fore and aft 'intimate appliances' to place with due care. I wormed the pee-catheter up my urethra, gently negotiated the sphincter, settled and secured it inside my bladder. As always, docking the tail-pipe was much like passing a big soft-ball: Relax, relax and let patience do the biz. I iggled and wiggled it past my anal sphincters until the entire hand-span was safely inside, dilated it to grip and seal.

Though I found the process uncomfortable, I'd the deepest respect for female wearers. Keith and I had a catheter and one insert, but Olwyn and Ms. Betrys had a front whatsit, too.

After my near-obligatory shudder, I closed up the rest of my 'skin-suit'. A 'Hard Suit' had ample HVAC for an overalled occupant but, jockey-small with a low BMI that routinely raised medics' eye-brows, I preferred to augment that facility with a close-coupled 'tubed' over-garment. This both mitigated body-heat build-up and prevented chilled extremities. After easing that over my skin-suit, I connected its empty piping to the skin-suit's saddle. I climbed into 'Big Mac', docked my saddle to the recycle facilities, synched my augments.

After the usual, but always unsettling initial glugs and gurgles from my plumbing, both internal and external, that 'hygiene' side of things reported all was purged and well. So far, so good. Time to get really serious. I began to work through the 'Big Mac' pre-closure check-list, calling each item as I went. My augments claimed all systems showed 'green', but they were just relaying the suit's own 'smart' diagnostics. There were also sufficient passive, analogue instruments for Murphy resistance, akin to the basics on an air-craft or SCUBA rig. You do not want a software, firmware or hardware glitch to have the last word...

I worked my way through 'pre-closure', closed up, ran the additional checks. Again, all greens. My trainees / safety team concurred. Very warily, as I was out of practice in such confined spaces, I edged into the airlock. My 'Go Bag' of ground anchors and tie-downs, plus the vac-rated semi-portable 'blaster', awaited. After a check for 'stoopids', I attached those to my suit's waiting clips. Though my instruments all still showed 'greens', I ran a final check for 'system drift' to be sure, to be sure, then signalled I was ready.

From the nearby mini-bridge, Davyd sounded the Delta-V alert. As the air-lock pumped down, he gently slowed the tug's spin and brought us to a hover over, above, opposite the iceteroid's 'North' pole.

It was time for me to go to work...

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #41

I pushed from the outer hatch-way, let that carry me clear of 'Cwm Fahr'. About a hundred metres out, I tickled my suit's tiny Field Poles, lifted my speed to a 'jog'. The kilometre ahead shrank steadily until, slowing on 'final approach', I landed gossamer light. First, I had to set an anchor. I'd prefer self-boring 'Ski-Sticks', as the supplied hardware was more appropriate for Fresno's compacted, stabilised shields. Still, they'd do. Setting suit comms to relay my external sensors to 'Cwm Fahr', I lifted the 'blaster' over-head, cleared the 'safeties', carefully fired the guide laser at the surface about five metres away. My target area just glowed. The surface was indeed de-volatilised. I fed in some beam power. The target began to ablate. It fountained plasma like an arc welder, developed a cup-sized mini-crater. This grew to a dessert bowl, to a casserole, to a bucket, to a trug.

Gradually, as my 'fire-pit' grew and deepened, my suit's instruments noted a subtle shift in the plasma contents. Another hand-span, and the plasma became richer. There were tiny flashes and pops within the open furnace. These multiplied, multiplied, then abruptly switched to small spurts. I kept on. Now the mix was changing steadily, progressively enriched in volatiles. Their flow carried dust and 'fines' along, became a pretty fountain.

This out-flow spread, swallowed and dissipated the blaster's beam. I raised the power a notch. The fountain grew to a small geyser. Rather than rush it, I waited to see how the out-flow developed. My caution proved wise. Within seconds, the flow doubled, re-doubled as gas and dust spurted from the long-unsullied sub-surface.

I shut off my blaster, watched the show. Were this a star-bound comet, astronomers would be hailing its first 'outburst'. Minus beam-power, the pit's glow faded, faded. Though the sub-surface still out-gassed briskly, the pit was now cool enough to approach. Careful not to expose myself to 'Murphy Bombs', I telescoped the handle of my first anchor, drove its grapple head deep into the hole. A second trigger spread the 'spokes'. After some jiggling to confirm this anchor was sufficiently set, I attached a short safety line before edging sideways.

Next, firing from the shoulder, I slowly carved a long, long but narrow trench across the iceteroid. Starting about five metres out, extending about a hundred metres, it was spectacularly 'fizzy', fountaining like an Icelandic dyke eruption. After the initial 'cut', into 'dry' material, I had to work 'inwards' so outflow did not mask my blaster's beam. Even so, I kept having to stop to let the blizzard of dust and such dissipate. Unlike my anchor's well, the first of four, this was the 'cross-grain' cut for the long tetrahedral wedges I'd soon carve.

My 'Trench One' progressively found 'juicy' material, but sufficiently distant to be impressive rather than alarming. From their vantage point a kilometre 'above' me, the 'Cwm Fahr' team would have a much better view. I kept cutting and cutting, as I did not want to have to come back and significantly deepen this. A few lesser zaps were to be expected, but I needed to defeat the sub-surface's meagre tensile strength. At the very least, like scoring tile or board, I'd de-gas enough to create a 'break line'.

Pass after pass carved my 'Trench One' deeper and deeper. I'd probably cut much deeper than I needed for today, but it would save a lot of time later. At last, I was satisfied. I shut off the blaster, waited for it to cool before slinging. Then, after attaching a line spool to my anchor, I disconnected my short safety line. Tickling my suit's tiny Field Poles, I lifted a few metres off the surface before backing away at right-angles to my trench. Twenty metres, thirty, forty, fifty spooled out. I reckoned that would do. Again landing gossamer-light, I began carving a second pit. With a fair idea of what to expect, this went well. I soon had the second anchor set, first line-spool hung, second connected..

Turning a right-angle to parallel my trench, I went fifty metres further, prepared to tackle the third. Beach-combers and shore anglers alike beware 'Seventh Waves' and rip-tide under-tows. Rock-Hoppers have a similar aversion to 'Third Holes'. The first may hold surprises, the second is usually just more of the same. But, my third hole's offset could put me above significantly different sub-surface, offer 'Dire Lord Murphy' the opportunity to pounce. So, if anything, it had to be tackled with even more care than the first.

And, yes, barely into the sub-surface, I hit a juicy pocket of volatiles. Gas, dust, gravel suddenly fountained. I reduced my blaster's beam-power, waited for the eruption to subside. Several minutes passed before it moderated. Twice that reduced it to approachable. I gave it the benefit of the doubt, waited out several spicy spurts and sneezes before I could continue. In fact, after further wary stops and starts, this third hole took longer than my first two combined, almost as long as the trench.

A full 'Ice Slicer' sensor suite would have probably spotted such a volatiles' pocket. 'Probably', mind. Also, a sturdy Rock Tug would be much less concerned by such out-flows. Still, I hoped to match my 'manual' findings to the 'Cwm Fahr' transect scans and over-view. As this iceteroid might be the training ground for several dozen folk, I wanted to build in all the safety I could contrive...

Very glad to set the third anchor and connect its line-spool, I hooked on another spool, went a further fifty metres, emplaced an unremarkable fourth anchor. I now had a straight-enough 100 metre 'running-line' parallel to my 'Trench One'. Besides providing a useful visual reference, it meant my two short safety lines would secure me against even back-wash from a bigger out-burst.

[jemhouston]

Good day's work