KSK

Glad it worked. And yes - the birth of a scientist indeed! As the saying goes: if it's green and wiggly its Biology. If it smells bad and explodes, it's Chemistry. If it doesn't work, it's Physics. I cannot tell a lie - the notion of inflatable Starseed components has been in the back of my head for a while (for pretty much the reasons discussed in-universe in the last chapter) - but the bouncy castle analogy does owe more than a little to a certain alleged (and not-at-all-boring) Bond villain. Hang on to that thought... And it's great to have you back! Hope you enjoyed the catch-up.

Looking awesome. And possibly pointless. But still awesome.

Ice blasters...? Oh gods - it’s true. It’s all true. The volcano lairs, the crazy high-technology, and now...

*snorts laughter*. I missed those italics the first time around. Well played, sir - well played. That’s kind of what I was worried about...

Okay, listen up you clowns. I can understand the permanent twilight getting you down. I can understand the endless snow getting a mite depressing. I can understand the occasional vision of things that aren't quite there, caused by the consumption of one too many ration packs laced with interesting industrial by-products. But I cannot understand what in the name of the Empress (may She live for ever) possessed you to cannibalise a Converter and put it on skis!! It made for a rather poetic journey through the northern reaches of Kerbin though. I especially liked the part about Edgas riding the terminator. And for all its craziness, the Skeeter journey was almost light relief from the palpable foreboding hanging over the rest of the chapter. Surely its too soon for nuclear winter to be setting in? Oh - and I did like the sly digs at Cupertino's finest and the power of shininess over long legal documents.

Next chapter is up... Lab Coats and Lapel Badges “Well, at least we got to see the Capital building.” “I suppose.” Joenie rested her chin in her hands and stared out of the carriage window. “I wanted to go to the Grand Gardens too and see all the cactuses that Enely told me about. And I wanted to see the Wildlife Museum of Kerbin. And I wanted to go back to the cafe. There were people there - not like that other town.” Joenie made a face. “I’m bored of trains - when do we get to the Berelgan?” “Not until this evening,” said Jonton. “I’ll be glad to get there as well.” He took a drink of tepid water from his bottle and grimaced. “I wish we could go back to that cafe too - one of their crushed ice sapwoods would taste really good about now.” “With mint.” said Joenie, making Jonton smile. “Not for me. We should grow some when we get home though. Fresh prickleberry juice and mint on a hot afternoon?” Jonton smacked his lips, sighed and took another mouthful of water. “I spy with my…” He saw the look on Joenie’s face and relented. “You’ll like the Berelgan when we get there. It’s not quite the same as the Grand Gardens - they have a lot of plants but most of them are for eating and they do quite a bit of research into how to make them tastier or better for you. But the really interesting thing they’re doing is working out how to grow plants on another planet.” “What?” Joenie’s head snapped round. “The Mün?” Jonton shook his head. “Duna. You can see it in the sky sometimes but it’s so far away that all you can see is a little red dot. The kerman have sent robot spaceships there already to take pictures and test the soil. As far as they can tell, it’s just looks like a big desert; lots of dust and dirt but no proper soil. The air is too thin to breathe properly and it’s freezing cold - so cold that there are places where you can find huge sheets of ice buried under the dirt.” Jonton rubbed his forehead. “So it’s a really, really hard place to grow plants but the scientists at the Berelgan are trying to work out how to do it so we can send people to Duna and not just robots.” Joenie’s eyes lit up. “Jonelle could help them! She’s been showing me how to mend the soil in our garden - she could tell the scientists how to turn dirt into proper soil!” “Maybe with some help from Elton,” her father agreed. “Do you remember when Professor Erlin and his friends came to visit? It was just after we made your sandpit and I showed you the worms?” “With the yellow beads?” “That’s right. I showed Professor Erlin the worms too and he got very excited because he thought I could help them.” Jonton tapped his chest. “They thought I could be a talking Kerm who could understand their experiments and tell them if they’d worked or not. But now they might be able to just ask Elton or Jonelle to teach them all they need to know.” Joenie gave him a doubtful look. “I don’t know if Jonelle would talk to them.” Unless you were there too, Jonton thought. Which I’m not so sure about. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Perhaps they should just talk to Elton to start with.” Joenie scrunched up her face in thought. “Hold on - I thought you were going to help Professor Erlin become part of his own Kerm. Couldn’t he be his own talking Kerm?” “Probably,” Jonton held up his hands. “I don’t know how much the scientists already know, Joenie. If they still need to do a lot of experiments then having Elton or Jonelle to help them might make things faster, but I’m just guessing.” “Okay.” Joenie took her sketchpad out of her bag and began doodling on it, a faraway look in her eyes. Jonton watched her for a moment before retreating back into his second book of the journey. By the time the train pulled in at Olbinat station, both travellers were tired and saddle-sore. Joenie dragged herself out of her seat and followed her father onto the platform, scowling at the other passengers around her. She dropped her bag and clamped her hands over her ears at the sudden raucous announcement that the the train from the Capital had arrived on platform 2. Jonton grabbed the abandoned luggage and found a place by a pillar for them to stand and wait for the crowd to disperse. He looked down the platform and, much to his relief, saw a poncho-clad kerbal holding aloft a signboard with their names printed on it. He tapped Joenie on the shoulder and pointed. “This way, sweetheart.” “Jonton? Joenie? Good to see you - I’m…” Their companion winced as another announcement blasted out of the speakers overhead. “Kerm’s sake. Sorry - I’m Mallas. I’ve got a car waiting outside, so if you’ll follow me, we’ll get out of this madhouse.” He led them along the platform and across the main concourse, nimbly avoiding the worst of the crowds. Looking around, Jonton noticed the absence of soldiers around the station although he cast a puzzled look at a group of workers by the exit, dressed in blue boiler suits, with what appeared to be a lopsided white cross emblazoned on the chest pocket. “Whew, that’s better.” Fragrant blossom fluttered down from a single enormous sapwood tree planted on a grassy island in the middle of the car park and tall leatherbark trees shaded the parking bays from the the evening sun. “Wish they could plant more greenery inside the station too.” Mallas stopped by a dusty off-roader. “It’s a bit of a drive to the Berelgan I’m afraid but there’s a cooler in the back with ice water, bread and fruit in, if you’re needing a bite of supper. Hop in.” By the time they’d left Olbinat behind, Jonton and Joenie were both onto their second bottle of ice water. Joenie held hers against her head, letting the beads of condensation trickle down her face. Jonton tore a hunk of bread off the loaf and chewed on it as he watched the fields roll by outside. They drove through a belt of woodland before emerging into fields again, these planted with a wider range of crops and laid out in neat grids. Copses of trees and the occasional low roofed building broke the monotony, and hedgerows large and small festooned the landscape, marking out roads and separating one field from the next. Mallas pointed out one of the larger copses. “That’s our sapwood plot. One of the oldest parts of the Berelgan and very popular with the staff. Wild sapwood prefer marshes and wet soils - one of the first serious research programmes carried out here was to breed a variety that could thrive in drier conditions. Most of the sapwoods you’ll see outside the tropics are descended from our trees.” Joenie’s eyelids began to droop as the conversation turned to root networks and soil types. She perked up briefly at a mention of worm trails but soon her chin dropped onto her chest and her eyes closed. By the time Mallas turned in through a turreted brick archway and stopped by the gatehouse, she was fast asleep. The lowered voices and muted clunks of carefully closed car doors didn’t disturb her, nor did the lowing of a startled creva, as it galloped away from their headlights. The next thing she knew was Jonton’s hand on her shoulder shaking her awake. “Wake up, Joenie, we’re here.” There was a soft crunching of gravel outside followed by murmured voices. The back of the car whooshed open, the cool night air playing across her face. Joenie stirred, squinting at the lights outside, sensing the looming bulk of buildings around her. “We’ll get you folks to your rooms,” Mallas said softly. “Let you get back to sleep, Joenie, and I don’t expect your dad will be long after you. Long way from Barkton by train - don’t envy you that journey at all.” ——————— Sleeping in a proper bed and bathing in a proper moss room the next morning did much to restore Joenie's good mood and after a quiet word from her father to one of the catering staff produced a bowl of fresh mint leaves for her breakfast juice, she began to feel positively cheerful. She looked up at the sudden knock at the door before turning her attention back to her second bowl of cold natas and sliced fruit. Jonton put his mug down and wiped his mouth. “Come in.” His eyebrows shot up at the sight of a familiar figure in the doorway. “Obrett! It’s good to see you again.” Obrett stepped into the small, private dining room. “It’s good to see you too, Jonton. Thank you for coming so quickly.” She sat down at the table and poured herself a small coffee. “Good morning, Joenie.” Joenie swallowed a mouthful of cereal. “g’morning.” “I’m sorry we couldn’t be here earlier,” said Jonton quietly. “How is Professor Erlin?” “Tired but doing well, all things considered,” Obrett replied. She gave Jonton a look. “Or so he tells us. Neither Gusemy nor I have asked him to Commune with us yet, and so far he hasn’t offered.” Jonton nodded. “It’’s… not easy the first few times,” he said. “If I’d known as much, I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to invoke my Right with Donman. It took me a long time to pluck up the courage to Commune with Ger… with anyone else.” The corners of Obrett’s eyes crinkled in sympathy. “I can believe that.” She saw Joenie staring out of the window, drumming her feet on the table leg. “I think we’re all finished here. Shall we go?” Joenie hopped off her chair and made for the door. “I thought we were never leaving.” “Joenie,” said Jonton warningly. Obrett just chuckled. “Quite right. Easier if I go first I think - this building is like a gronnek warren.” They followed her along one wood-panelled corridor after another, including a long portrait gallery that Jonton had no recollection of from the previous night. Finally, they descended an ornately carved staircase, into a marble-floored entrance hall. Jonton blinked at the unexpectedly grand decor as Joenie ran on ahead, shoes clattering on the polished stone. A set of double doors led out into the Berelgan grounds, down a flight of, no less ornately carved, stone steps. They found an open-mouthed Joenie at their foot, staring at the Berelgan grounds stretched out before her. Jonton took a deep lungful of air, savouring the smell of dew on grass, the rich aromas of greenery from the surrounding fields and even the earthier scent of distant livestock. He joined Joenie at the foot of the steps and surveyed the fields and glasshouses, feeling himself relax for what seemed like the first time in weeks. “Where are all the Kerm, Dad? There’s hardly any trees anywhere.” “They don’t have many Kerm here, Joenie.” Jonton pointed at the belt of woodland on the horizon. “I think they’ll have some with the rest of the trees over there but apart from that, all the crops are looked after by scientists and farmers.” “Why?” “Because they’re trying to work out how the Kerm manage to look after so many different plants. So the scientists try to copy the soil around the Kerm trees and then they compare how well different crops grow in their copied soil compared to the ones growing in proper Kerm soil. Joenie frowned as she thought it over. “I suppose.” She cocked her head on one side. “Where are they learning to grow plants on Duna?” Beside her, Obrett sucked in her breath. Joenie looked at her in confusion. “Dad told me about it on the train. They are aren’t they? Learning to grow plants on Duna I mean.” “They are.” Obrett pointed at five domed glasshouses arranged in a cloverleaf pattern and linked by tubular walkways. Each of the domes was built from panels of frosted glass and three of them were tinted in different shades of butterscotch brown. Three sturdier looking domes stood apart from the main complex. “In those glasshouses over there.” “Could I see them?” Obrett smiled at the enthusiasm in her voice. “I’m sure that could be arranged. I have to take your dad to see Professor Erlin first though.” Joenie nodded sagely. “So that dad can help him become part of his Kerm.” She didn’t see the wondering expression on Obrett’s face. “That’s right. They’ll probably have a lot to talk about” Obrett raised her eyebrows at Jonton. “I expect we will,” Jonton agreed. “Especially if Professor Erlin wants to practice Communing.” “I hope so,” said Obrett. She turned to face Joenie. “Either way, we should have plenty of time to visit the Project.” She walked over to the off-roader, left where Mallas had parked it the night before. “It’s quite a long way to Professor Erlin’s Grove though, so I think we’d be better off driving there.” —————— Joenie stared wide-eyed around the dimly lit glasshouse. The frosted glass walls grudgingly admitted the bright morning sunlight outside, their yellowish tint diffusing it into a uniform ochre haze which turned her skin a lifeless shade of murky green. Half of the space inside was sectioned off with more glass walls, behind them, white-coated scientists worked at their benches; the brighter light from assorted display screens penetrating the gloom. The rest of the glasshouse was taken up with evenly sized plots of dirt and gravel, dotted with patches of scabrous grey-green growths, and separated by boardwalks and low wooden fences. Joenie sniffed at the air, surprised by the smells of flint and dust rather than damp and mould. Another pair of scientists looking, she thought, rather ridiculous in short laboratory coats and knee length rubber boots, were hunkered down by one of the plots, scraping samples into small glass jars. One of them looked up and waved at her. Startled she recognised Mallas’s face from the night before. “Hi Joenie! Welcome to Duna!” Joenie blinked. “It’s very dark,” she said doubtfully. “Well the real Duna is lot further away from Kerbol than Kerbin is, so it gets less daylight.” Mallas screwed a lid onto one of his sample jars. “So if you’re working out how to grow plants there, the first thing you need to do is get the light right.” He smiled. “You get used to it pretty quickly.” Joenie leaned over the nearest plot and studied the vegetation growing on it. She reached out to touch the nearest patch of crusty grey then thought better of it and settled for bending over to study the growth up close. “Why are you growing lichen and not clover?” Mallas’ companion gave her a startled look. Mallas put his jars in his lab coat pocket and came over to join her. “Clover would be better,” he agreed, “but lichens are tougher and good at breaking down rocks into useful minerals.” “To feed other plants?” “Exactly. We won’t have Kerm on Duna - not to begin with anyway - so we’re trying to work out other ways of turning sand and dirt into something like soil. And without a Kerm to control the whole system we need something as simple as we can get away with.” His companion snorted and Mallas held up his hands. “Okay, okay, simple is maybe the wrong word.” He paused, looking at Joenie’s expectant expression. “Do you know about evolution?” Joenie shook her head. “Well the whole thing is a bit complicated but plants and animals can change over time to fit in better with their environment and help them live longer. Which is a problem for all sorts of reasons but one of those reasons is that the Kerm have been helping us grow crops for so long now that all the insects and worms and other things that live in the soil have got used to having the Kerm around to tell them what to do…” “Like Jonelle’s tapestry.” Joenie interrupted. “She’s teaching me how to read it but it’s complicated too. Probably as complicated as evolution.” She saw Mallas’s confused expression. “I think the tapestry is how she tells everything in the soil what to do, like you were saying.” Mallas blinked. “Jonelle is a Kerm?” “Uh-huh. She’s my best friend. Well - after Adbas anyway,” Joenie added dutifully. “Dad thinks I need to spend more time with Adbas and the other kerblets in the village, so I can show Jonelle what they’re like.” Mallas rubbed his forehead. “That sounds… right,” he said slowly. “But aren’t you a little… well young for all of that.” “Dad says I could be the youngest Keeper he’s ever met,” said Joenie, “maybe the youngest that Elton has ever met too.” The other scientist made a startled noise. “You know Elton?” “Uh-huh. He’s really old. I used to be a bit scared of him but he’s okay now that he’s got Jonelle. I think maybe he was a bit lonely before she woke up too.” “Joenie is Jonton’s daughter,” said Obrett, throwing the two scientists a warning look. “I’m showing her around whilst he’s talking to Erlin.” “She’ll have plenty of time to see everything then,” Mallas said with a grin. “Once the Prof get’s talking he’s hard to stop.” “That’s what Elton says about Dad,” said Joenie. “Sometimes he complains that Dad can’t say anything without turning it into a long story but I think he’s just teasing.” Curiosity burned behind Mallas’s eyes, but he contented himself with a rueful shake of his head. “A Kerm with a sense of humour? That’ll take some getting used to. Maybe when the Prof’s… never mind.” He smiled at Joenie, “How would you like to see the lab?” Joenie nodded eagerly. Mallas disappeared inside and, much to her delight, returned with a white coat which he held out for her. “You’ll need a proper lab coat first. Let me help you with the sleeves - there you go. Hmmm - bit big still. He fished a handful of test tube clips out of his pocket and knelt down beside her. “Let’s see if we can pin this up a bit. It won’t look very elegant but it’ll stop you tripping over.” Finally, he removed a blue elasticated cap from his pocket. “Better put one of these on too. That’s it - tuck your hair up first.” He studied her for a moment. “Good enough. Right then Dr Joenie - if you’d like to follow me?” After an interminable wait in the locker room for the adults to change their shoes and find a lab coat for Obrett, Joenie trotted into the laboratory behind Mallas, oblivious to the smiles from the other scientists. Her nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar smells as she stared in fascination at the row of microscopes on one bench, the strange instruments on another and the racks of test tubes and complicated tubing all laid out in their own glass doored cabinet. “You can use my bench - up you get.” Mallas waited for Joenie to clamber onto his stool before busying himself at the fume cupboard. He returned with a slide, coverslip fixed in place and set it under his stereo microscope. “I’ve got some soil worms here. They’re only tiny but they’re really important. Take a look.” He guided her hands to the focus controls. “Use this one first until you can see something, then this one to make it clearer.” Joenie peered into the eyepieces, forehead furrowed in concentration as she turned the focus knob. “There they are! Ewww, that one’s ugly. And that one’s only got a tail. Why is it still wriggling if it’s only got a tail?” Mallas looked puzzled for a moment, before his face cleared. “You can move the slide, Joenie. Rest your hand here by these little wheels - this one moves it up and down and this one moves it from side to side.” “Ohhh. I found it! I found its head! That one’s ugly too.” “Is it the same as the first one?” Joenie spun the stage controls back and forth. “I think so… no - that one’s got a pointy head instead of a round one.” She looked up, blinking water out of her eyes. “What colour are they?” Mallas looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean. I added a drop of stain to make them easier to see but apart from that I don’t think they really have a colour.” Realisation dawned on Obrett’s face. “Not that sort of colour. You’re talking about Jonelle’s tapestry again aren’t you, Joenie?” The lab came to a gradual standstill, scientists abandoning their experiments to listen as Obrett described her long-ago Communion with Jonton and being shown the worm pheromone trails in Joenie’s sandpit. “You can’t see the worms,” said Joenie, looking up from the microscope again. “Just the yellow beads they leave behind for other worms to chase. Dad told me they were playing,” she confided to Mallas. “but I think they wanted to make baby worms.” There was a hastily smothered chuckle from another bench. Mallas did his best to keep a straight face. “She’ll know more about it than you, Mallas,” somebody called out. “With two sapient Kerm to teach her? She probably does,” came the good humoured reply. “If you ask her nicely, she might be able persuade them both to teach you dunderheads too.” Obrett saw Joenie’s eyes light up. “I think,” she said firmly, “that we’ll need to speak to Jonton and Professor Erlin first.” Mallas caught her glancing at her watch. “That would seem wise. Tell you what - I’ll go find Ambassador Gusemy and take him over to the Grove now, if he’s not there already. One of us can bring Jonton back here once he’s finished with the Prof, and we can have a quiet word with him then.” He smiled at the engrossed kerblet bent over his microscope again. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding something to do whilst you wait.” ——————— “Good afternoon, Director.” “And a good afternoon to you also, Bill.” Lodan shook the proffered hand. “I presume you’ve received the news from Foxham?” “About the test flight? Yes.” Bill smiled faintly. “It was the right decision, even if it wasn’t quite where we thought our booster would be going. Being able to start construction with the Type Six will save a considerable amount of time.” He held the door open for Lodan. “After you, Director. I believe you know the way.” “Thank you.” Lodan waited for Bill to fall in alongside him. “Ademone informs me that the new fairing will be able to accommodate the bridge modules and the redesigned forward shelter module.” Bill nodded. “And the spokes. We’ve been running extensive tests with the mockup sections and the mission planning team have reviewed Nelton’s latest EVA sequencing report. Geneney thinks it looks plausible enough, although, like Nelton, he’s not committing anything to the checklist until we’ve tested the basic sequence in the Pool.” Bill checked his watch. “I think we’ll start with the PAL if you don’t mind, Director. Roncott’s team should be ready for us in VAB-2 by half past three.” Lodan crossed the road to the Assembly and Fitting building and looked up at a dark rectangle of fresh paint, standing out against the lighter warehouse walls. “I see you finally dispensed with your sign.” “Yes. Shervin - vice Chair at Stratus Inc - made some pointed comments about it and it turned out that several of our other old contractors were of a similar mind, although they were a little more diplomatic out of deference to Jeb. We haven’t decided on a new name yet - Geneney and Bob were in favour of Kerman Aerospace Engineering, although between ourselves, I think it’s a little bland.” Bill looked at Lodan. “And not especially tactful given how much support we’re getting from the Groves.” “No,” said Lodan thoughtfully. “I don’t think President Obrick would be particularly impressed either. I certainly prefer an aerospace engineering company to a junkyard and spacecraft parts company but for the moment, I believe that something more inclusive would be in order.” He stopped at the side entrance to VAB-2 and waited as Bill retrieved a key from round his neck. They stepped through into a narrow, concrete block corridor, Bill locking the door behind them. He led the KSA director past a row of offices and through a heavy fire door into the main assembly area. “Excuse me a moment, Director.” Lodan watched Bill speak briefly to a group of coverall clad engineers. One of them hurried off and returned with a spare laboratory coat and dust cap, handing them both to him with an apologetic look. “Sorry, sir but…” Lodan waved off the apology. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Donning his coat and cap, he walked around the large cylindrical spacecraft on its dolly, noting the undersized engine opposite a CORDS-3 docking adaptor mounted on a flared collar, the ring of thruster blocks mounted on one end, and the tangle of exposed plumbing where another ring had yet to be fitted. An open equipment bay occupied most of its upper surface, with a stowed photovoltaic array mounted along each flank. Squatting, Lodan found a third array mounted to its belly. “We call it the PAL,” Bill said, squatting beside him. “For Power, Assembly and Logistics. I’ll spare you Jeb’s joke about it being every kerbonaut’s best friend. Lodan raised an eyebrow and stood up, being careful not to touch the bundle of cables plugged into the underside of the spacecraft. “I presume you intend to launch it separately? It looks rather too large to fit into a fairing with the forward shelter module.” “We do,” Bill confirmed. “The flight plan isn’t so very different to a Pioneer flight - and actually, you could think of the PAL as a modified Pioneer service module. Rockomax will launch the station module, we’ll launch the PAL, and we’ll dock them together on-orbit. Both spacecraft are controlled remotely - we’re working on a fully autonomous docking system but we’re not quite there yet.” “And once they’re docked, the PAL will ferry its module over to the space station?” A thought struck Lodan. “How do you maintain control of the station module before docking?” “It stays attached to the the booster,” said Bill. “The Type Six upper stage is already equipped with the necessary attitude control thrusters. Again, we’ll be borrowing from the Pioneer flight profile with the PAL executing the payload extraction manoeuvre rather than the CSM. Once the station module is clear, the booster stage can be safely de-orbited.” Lodan nodded. “And the bridge module is equipped with its own thrusters if I recall correctly.” “Yes.” Bill walked over to an equipment cart and checked the cables connecting to the PAL systems. “If you would care to join me at the console, Director, or anywhere behind the yellow line, we can proceed with the demonstration.” He waited for Lodan to move back to a safe distance then touched a button. A bundle of thick tubes, wrapped in what appeared to be white cloth and linked by solid, disc-like hubs emerged from the top of the PAL and unfolded into a mechanical arm, several metres in length. Bill touched a sequence of controls and the arm went through a series of movements, its different sections flexing, twisting and bending about each other. “Assembly,” said Bill. He flipped open a protective cage on the control panel and pressed the button underneath. One of the PAL’s photovoltaic array covers sprang open, the hinged panel beneath slowly extending to its full length. “And power. A lot of our work has been focused on defining the range of movements available to the manipulator arm and writing failsafes into its control codes to provide a safety zone around the photovoltaics.” Lodan walked round to the back of the spacecraft and sighted along his upright hand, tipping it back and forth in thought. “I can certainly see where your manipulator would be helpful in docking the spoke modules,” he said. “But unless it’s a lot more flexible than it seems, I can’t see how it would be able to handle more than three of them without repositioning.” Bill nodded. “You’re quite right, Director. Allowing for that safety zone I mentioned, it can’t handle more than three spokes. We did think about putting the docking adaptor on a rotary joint but never progressed that idea beyond the early design stages. Far simpler and more reliable to simply undock the PAL, rotate it to the desired attitude and re-dock.” “That makes sense.” Lodan frowned. “You’ve put this all together in a remarkably short period of time.” “As I mentioned, Director, the PAL is largely based on the Pioneer service module - you’ll recall that it was already fitted with an equipment bay. The SPS was somewhat overpowered for our requirements so we used a lander ascent engine instead. Goliath Products built the arm for us - it was originally commissioned for Munar resource extraction in the post-Pioneer 4 expansion but was put on hold as the Kerm Crisis developed. Goliath were one of the first of our contractors that Jeb approached once Stratus were back on board.” “Excellent. I look forward to seeing it working on-orbit.” Lodan glanced at his watch. “I believe you mentioned that your team in VAB-2 would be ready for us by 3:30?” “They ought to be,” Bill took Lodan’s lab coat and cap before removing his own protective clothing and handing them over to one of the engineers. “Thank you, Edsen.” On the way over to VAB-2, Bill described the planned PAL operations in more detail, to an attentive Lodan. “We’ll be monitoring its systems throughout station assembly, especially the thrusters and propellant tanks. Once - if - Starseed moves into the main production phase, we’re hoping to have a number of PALs permanently on-orbit as space tugs for shuttling colony ship modules to their assembly sites. We expect they’ll also be used as auxiliary power modules for the ships during assembly, fitting and provisioning. Wernher is designing the LV-Ns as dual mode systems, capable of generating electrical power and thrust as required, but we’d prefer not to be running the reactors with that amount of traffic around them. Lodan glanced at Bill’s serious expression. “No,” he agreed, deadpan. “That would seem to be an unnecessary complication.” “My thoughts exactly, Director. After you.” A group of engineers, dressed in the seemingly obligatory coveralls, stood in a loose group around a curious looking device that reminded Lodan of nothing so much as a broad cylindrical stack of folded towels packed between two aluminium discs, one of which was tethered to the floor. A rather larger group of more casually dressed onlookers stood back at a safe distance. One of the engineers stepped forward and glanced at Bill, who gave him a reassuring nod. “Good, um, afternoon, Director. My name is Roncott Kerman, team leader for the pneumatics group.” Lodan racked his brains for something to say. “A pleasure, Mr Roncott. Would that be Roncott as in Roncott actuator?” He was answered by a delighted look. “That’s me, sir! Although the actuator was an, um, team effort - these things always are.” Roncott took a deep breath. “Anyway, you’re here for the demonstration, yes? Some background first then - it may help to um… explain why we’ve taken this approach.” He stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. “We’d been thinking about the spoke modules for the colony ships - and for your space station, sir - for quite some time. Building them was never going to be a particular problem, although their length did present some, um, interesting challenges compared to other habitation modules that we’ve launched in the past.” Roncott shook his head. “No, the real problem was always going to be transportation. Each spoke module is mostly empty space you see, which makes them, um, inefficient to launch. We could easily fit a single module into a standard Rockomax fairing but even their, uh, enlarged fairing isn’t big enough to hold two. And at two modules per spoke and eight spokes for a wheel, launching enough modules for, um, your space station would take a considerable number of flights, let alone the three wheels worth that the colony ship design requires. So we started thinking about collapsible modules but couldn’t think of a way of making them, um, robust enough.” “Until you had an extraordinary idea,” said Bill. Roncott flushed dark green. “I should have thought of it much sooner.” He gave Lodan a sheepish look. “I remembered the Pioneer Four launch, Director. One of the entertainments provided for all the kerblets that came to watch, was an, umm, bouncy castle and the more I thought about, the more that castle seemed to have the, um, properties we needed. It packed down flat, it expanded to quite a considerable size and, best of all, that expansion was created by inflating a relatively small number of tubes, rather than the whole structure.” Lodan eyed the folded cylinder as Roncott continued. “Obviously launching a bouncy castle into space wasn’t going to work, haha, so I decided to speak to um, Halnie here. She’s in charge of the, Portable Systems Division at Stratus, where our EVA suits were developed. I thought she might be able to suggest some better construction materials. Um… over to you, Halnie.” “Good afternoon, Director. As Roncott said, I’m in charge of the Stratus Portable Systems Division and - as you might expect - we have considerable experience in designing, manufacturing and manufacturing with, space-grade fabrics.” Halnie gestured at the spoke module behind her. “Naturally, we’ve prepared a full technical specification for the KSA, together with details of our test protocols and outcomes of those tests. To cut a long story short, Director, we were able to devise suitable laminate materials which combine the requisite air-tightness, tensile strength and impact resilience.” “We fully appreciate that it’s not an easy idea to get to grips with.” Halnie offered Lodan a faint smile, “even Jeb dismissed it out of hand the first time he heard about it, but we believe that our fabrics offer some significant advantages over conventional spacecraft construction materials. The module is inflated using an onboard compressed air tank - another area in which Stratus have considerable experience.” One of the engineers wheeled an equipment cart over, which held a spherical pressure vessel and its regulator valve, secured within a steel framework. Halnie unreeled a length of hose, attaching one end to the spoke module and the other to the valve. “We use a relatively low inflation pressure to prevent any damage to the structure during the unpacking process.” She checked that both connections were secure and opened the valve. With a sustained hissing of compressed air, the module began to expand. Lodan watched in fascination as the uppermost aluminium disc began to rise, lifted on a slowly inflating ring. The ring rose, pulling a dozen protruding tubes out from the stack of folded material, which gradually extended to reveal the fabric panels beneath. Cross-tubing appeared, zig-zagging between the ring and a second ring, emerging from the folds of fabric. The resulting lattice structure reminded him of the pressure hull for Ademone’s partially completed bridge module. The structure wobbled. Lodan looked sidelong at Halnie, who looked back at him unperturbed. The last of the rings pulled taut, followed by the last sections of cross-tubing then, with a final quiver from the now fully-extended spoke, the hissing stopped. Halnie unplugged the hose and rolled the equipment cart to one side before turning to Lodan with a smile. “I’m afraid this is just a proof of concept model, Director - it’s not full-size and the endplates are just simple bulkheads, so there’s no way inside. The next prototype, and the production versions of course, will have an airlock at each end to allow access. Nevertheless…” Halnie gestured at the fabric tube towering over them all. “I trust you see the potential?” “Indeed. I look forward to reading your report.” Lodan stepped forward and tapped the module with one outstretched finger, before gingerly leaning against it. “Interesting - it’s sturdier than I’d expect.” He raised an eyebrow. “Although I have to confess to some skepticism about building substantial portions of a space station - let alone an interplanetary spacecraft - out of them.” “Oh goodness, no,” exclaimed Roncott. “We’d use a truss system to provide tensile strength and structural integrity. Imagine a very big cage with inflatable modules secured to the bars of that cage. It’ll make the assembly a little more complicated but it’ll be worth it!” One of the engineers nodded. “Splitting out the load-bearing structure from the pressurised volume means we can specialise them both - make a lighter and stronger structure than if we tried to combine both functions into a single set of components.” “And we can still get away with a significant reduction in launches,” finished Halnie. “According to the figures Rockomax gave us, we should be able to fit three inflatable sections into their upgraded fairing - or the equivalent number of truss pieces to go with them. So we’ll need at least a third fewer flights than if we were launching conventional modules - and that assumes that the conventional modules are robust enough not to need any trusses of their own.” Lodan raised an eyebrow. “If your inflatables work as advertised.” Halnie nodded. “Naturally. It’s not Stratus’s decision of course, but, if I could make a suggestion, the space station would be an ideal platform for properly testing them. From speaking to Jeb and Geneney about the colony ship design, I think the that you could use them for the cargo sections too. Even if the KSA would prefer not to use inflatables for the crew compartments, I think the savings would still be worthwhile.” ——————— As he left VAB-2 with Bill, Lodan saw a group of workers gathered around an extensive roped off area behind the Kerbonaut Training Facility. An excavator was parked inside the ropes, stabiliser legs deployed and bucket hidden behind a dip. A yellow-hatted kerbal stood by it’s front wheel, talking to the nearest worker and making notes on a clipboard. There was a glint of light as something exchanged hands and the worker walked away, pinning something to his chest pocket. Bill caught the direction of his gaze. “The Pool,” he said. “For EVA training. Or it will be when it’s finished. The idea is to put mockup space station modules in there and have the crews practice assembly operations underwater. They’ll be in full EVA suits, weighted for neutral buoyancy. The Endurance crews all seemed to think it would provide a reasonable simulation of zero-G conditions. “Ingenious,” said Lodan. “Do you intend to weight their equipment for neutral buoyancy as well?” “One of the Endurance crews did suggest that to Nelton but was told, and I quote, that “picking your tools off the bottom might teach you not to drop them again. If it doesn’t, we’re not short of backup crews.” Lodan walked towards the ropes, picking his way over excavator tracks and around various items of debris. Before the KSA director could climb over the rope, Bill glanced at his shoes. “Safety boots only inside the line I’m afraid, Director.” Lodan stopped. “Of course.” He stared at the construction site taking in the gaping pit surrounded by a second set of safety ropes. Further back from the edge, a pair of temporary cabins rested on concrete blocks, beside racks of shovels and other tools. He frowned. “Shovels?” Bill shrugged. “We’ve got more volunteers than machinery and it’s a lot easier to get a team of kermol with spades to the bottom of the pit than an excavator.” He smiled. “And I’m not sure that they’re any slower either. According to Seelan, one good kerbal was rather forceful about that, telling her that this old kermol might not know one end of a rocketship from the other but, by the Kerm, she knew which end of a spade to hold.” “She wasn’t wrong. Tougher than a Kerm root that one and she keeps the younger lads on their toes too. None of them want to be out-done by someone old enough to be their grandmother. Good afternoon, Director - I won’t shake hands if you don’t mind.” Lodan eyed the other’s dust caked gloves and weatherbeaten overalls. “Not at all. Although you appear to have the advantage of me?” “Seelan Kerman. Went up on Prospector One, structural engineer before that.” “Seelan was our lead engineer for the FLT series of propellant tanks,” Bill added. “Yep. Might even get to build a couple more of them sometime soon.” “I hope so,” said Lodan. He caught sight of the enamel badge pinned to Seelan’s chest. “That’s an optimistic badge, kerbonaut Seelan.” “Please, Director - just Seelan.” Seelan unpinned her badge and handed it over. “I got my flight - don’t imagine I’ll be training for another one any time soon.” “Sooner rather than later, if I have any say in the matter,” said Lodan. “Although, for now, I fear you may be correct.” He studied the badge, noting the stylised image of Kerbin rising over Duna, seen through a spacecraft window. He made to hand it back to Seelan, who shook her head. “Keep it if you like, Director.” She pullled a bag out of her overall pocket. “Got plenty more of them - everyone who takes their first shift in the pit gets one when they’re done, and we stick their name in the Book too.” “Lucan’s idea,” said Bill, seeing Lodan’s politely enquiring expression. “We’re compiling a list of names of everyone who’s volunteered their time for Project Starseed. It doesn’t matter whether they’re KSA personnel, a White Cross volunteer, or a kermol farmer donating some of their crop to the space program, they go on the list. We’re going to have that list printed and properly bound, Director - on very thin paper if need be. After all, we won’t have much spare room for books on the first flight out to Duna.” << Chapter 90 Chapter 92>>

“I think I got some stuff out of your head that has nothing to do with navigating this ship.” Great pop-culture reference and so story relevant too. Blimey - you’ve been at the peroxide coffee again haven’t you?

Lego can and will tweak the concept designs when developing the production design. The Saturn V set ended up being quite a bit different (internally if nothing else) to the originally pitched model.

Thanks! I'll skip the spoilers because - well spoilers - but I completely agree with you that Kenlie is a changed man from the one we knew. But isn't that the essence of a good character driven story - that those characters change during the story, and not necessarily for the better or the happier? Swapping genres for a moment, I'm wondering if he'll end up being a Frodo-like character who saves the world but changes too much in the process to ever again be entirely comfortable in that world. And poor Kenlie doesn't have the Grey Havens to escape to.

Do you reckon we could persuade Denis Villeneuve to do it? I'm a big fan of his sci-fi films and he seems to have the directing chops in other genres too. If anyone could do a historical spaceflight/war/First Contact movie it would be him. Plus after watching Arrival, I'm just plain intrigued to see what he'd do with the Kerm and all the various Communion scenes! Awww - thanks! Can't go wrong with flatbread. As Ten Key noted, this isn't really a big character story, so I'm always glad when a particular character does chime with someone. The last chapter was very much intended to be a peek at Joenie growing up, so I'm doubly glad that worked! Oddly enough, she was singled out for comments (in a positive but slightly different context) by the folks over on Spacebattles too. They tend to pick up on very different aspects of the story than the comments on this thread, so having both sets of readers come out with character comments... Yeah. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out by the weekend . We've got guests over at the moment but Sunday afternoon is looking fairly free and the next chapter is about done. It might end up being a submit-post-and-go-to-bed job though.

The key word there is 'child' I think. It also depends very much on the age of the child. One child of my acquaintance gets angry with his sibling and threatens to kill her. But 'kill' in this context just means he's really, really mad and reaching for the biggest, baddest threat he can conceive of to express his anger. It doesn't mean that he literally plans to find a kitchen knife and stab her in her sleep, for example. Despite all the big words, the concept of, and ramifications of, deliberately ending somebody's life have never occurred to him. So in that sense, yes he's innocent. More formally, it's why (in English law at least) we have the concept of actus reus (the criminal act) and mens rea (the criminal mind). Both are required for a person to be guilty. Or, looking this up on Wikipedia (because I recalled the general concept but not the fine details). "The terms actus reus and mens rea developed in English Law are derived from the principle stated by Edward Coke namely, actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea, which means: "an act does not make a person guilty unless (their) mind is also guilty"; hence, the general test of guilt is one that requires proof of fault, culpability or blameworthiness both in thought and action." @Dman979 In a similar vein, I would say that Kenlie has very much crossed his Rubicon to the point where he now has mens rea. The crucial thing is whether he would also be able to engage in the corresponding actus reus. Fortunately for him the Kerbulans didn't call his bluff and force him to take that irretrievable step. And provided that kerbalkind as a whole never takes that step either then they will not fall but will merely be a sadder and wiser species. And wasn't that a cheerful post for a Friday morning.

Love the boat+fairing picture @tater! If ever a photo needed a ‘well it worked in Kerbal Space Program’ caption it’s that one. Awesome. Really hope that becomes a thing. I did hear that Lego weren’t really considering another rocket set after the Saturn V. On the other hand that one sold pretty well I think, so maybe there’s hope!

It’s possible I suppose but it’s not very likely and I expect there are rules to cover the situations where it does happen. A lot of stuff published in the scientific literature isn’t anywhere near to being an invention. At best it’s a great idea that might have a practical application one day. Possibly. Which I’m quite happy with personally - we need applied research to turn the possible into the actual, but we also need blue-skies fundamental research to expand the realms of the possible. But I digress. If something resembling a commercially viable invention is published, the chances are pretty good that somebody’s filed a patent on it before submitting their manuscript to the journal. In which case the invention will be published anyway, presuming that the applicant keeps their application going for 18 months or more. So it would be rather counterproductive for the journal not to publish it. Finally, I don’t know how diversified the big publishers are but I’d be surprised if they do own the kinds of company that would be obsoleted by an invention published in a scientific journal.

Now those are some seriously overspecced dumpsters. I mean, I know they're a rocket company and all but c'mon...

Ambitious but I look forward to reading it! While I take @steuben‘s points, the nice thing about not doing your story flights in KSP is that you’re not tied to KSP parts or design choices. You can write in enough detail to sound plausible, without the hassles of building a working ship or searching for just the right combination of mods to build something that sort of resembles what you’ve imagined. There’s also something liberating about sending a ship out to another planet using a mere line or two of text rather than slogging your way through a KSP flight.

Cool. Taken from that same article though: “Authorised for development in the 1962-1971 period, the RD-270 was Glushko's answer to the US F-1 rocket engine and was the largest rocket engine ever built in the Soviet Union. It was to be used on Chelomei's UR-700 lunar vehicle or Yangel's R-56 monster rocket. The UR-700 would have used 6 RD-270 in the first stage. No design bureau would attempt anything like it today. It was the maximum possible power from the design: gas and gas mixture in the combustion chamber; two gas generators in the combustion chamber; one oxidizer rich and one fuel rich; closed cycle; staged burning; very high pressure in the combustion chamber (266 bar compared to about 80 bar in many today, except the SSME). Thrust was 640,000 kgf. Hot fire tests had started (with 40 done) and some units had been proved. Engine head testing had started. The peak of problems had almost been surmounted when all the N-1 lunar program was closed down and efforts had to stop. It never was used on a flight vehicle and funding ran out before combustion instability problems could be solved. Wet Mass: 5603 kg wet. Engine Cycle: closed staged. Feed Method: turbo-pump.” Emphasis added. It seems they got a lot of testing done, proved a lot of the components but didn’t have a reliably working engine before funding was pulled. In other words, pretty much what I said. They might have been able to get it to work but were facing some of the same problems as the F1 team. The UR-700 might have been a better choice than the N1. We’ll probably never know. But I stand by my original opinion that it wasn’t the obviously better choice that @Jestersage implied. Edit. Sorry about the text size - posting from my phone.

The F1 was a relatively simple engine design with a relatively low chamber pressure - it was just very big. Granted, that bigness (for want of a better word) caused all sorts of problems along the way, most notably with combustion instability. I'm not sure about the M1 - Wikipedia tells me it was designed and component tested but I don't know whether an actual complete engine was tested. The RD-270 had performance comparable to the F1 (6,300 KN thrust at sea level vs 6,700 KN or thereabouts) but used a much higher chamber pressure (26.1 MPa vs 7MPa) and a more complicated cycle (full flow staged combustion vs gas generator). All numbers pulled from Wikipedia again, in case anyone has any counter-sources. The Soviets built some amazing rocket engines, so I'm sure they could have got the RD-270 to work. However, I think they would have had all the scale-up problems that the F1 faced plus a whole bunch of other problems on top. Which is why I'm disagreeing that the UR-700 was necessarily a better solution than the N1.

Well the last three chapters did arrive in fairly quick succession. The next one is taking a little longer than expected (stop me if you've heard this before) mainly because it's turning out to be longer than expected. A quick word count this morning put it at a shade over 6,200 words, so its one of my longer chapters and its not quite done yet. And as always, thank you in return for your excellent work in keeping the downloadable versions up to date! As for a fourth volume... We're approaching the next story milestone (as I think of them) or more likely two of them back to back. By milestone, I'm talking about a Moho 1 or Pioneer 4 or Elton's awakening sort of chapter. After that we really are into the final straight, although I don't have much of an idea how that's going to work yet, so it could be a straight littered with hurdles, pitfalls, gronnek traps, and probably a very confused looking RatSquirrelFish popping in from a parallel dimension. Don't take this last one too seriously. So yeah, a fourth volume may be required. Crikey - that puts this adventure into context. Although I'm now thinking that it's a... Nice day for a... red wedding. It's a nice day to... start again. And still livin' on a prayer.

From a quick bit of reading up on this, UR-700 was an ambitious design in its own right. The RD-270 engine intended to power it was complex (full flow staged combustion), it was apparently going to use propellant cross-feed and it used hypergolic propellants with their relatively poorer specific impulse. That all adds up to a big rocket, with plenty to go wrong and the exciting prospect of spreading large quantities of UDMH and N2O2 across the landscape if anything did go wrong. I'm not sure if it would have been as nasty as the R-16 explosion (bigger rocket vs slightly less nasty oxidiser) but it wouldn't have been any kind of picnic either. Both rockets had advantages and disadvantages. I'm not sure I agree that either was necessarily better than the other, or that the UR-700 wouldn't have failed just as spectacularly (and more poisonously) as the N1.

I'm pretty sure that musical Tesla coils are the Daleks' instrument of choice... My current earworm is Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus. With a full supporting ensemble of unofficial, incredibly juvenile, and not especially forum-friendly lyrics.

Oh - I like that idea. Works with existing grammar and wouldn't be quite so blatantly cribbed from Latin grammar. Yup - that's what we'll go with - I'll give some thought to a suitable afix. Good catch on 1st vs 2nd person plurals - thanks.

It didn't seem to make much of a splash in either the Ars Technica or Spacebattles KSP communities either. There was a handful of comments and one fairly blunt review (attached here for reference) on the Ars forum thread, then business as usual. I expect that some of those issues have been patched out, or arose through lack of familiarity with some of the new game features (the 2.5m engine comment sounds like one of those) but still - first impressions and all that.

You do indeed - good spot!

Because this is a gaming forum and rep is a score. And, for a significant section of a given gaming community, that's enough. Doesn't matter how tedious, grindy or pointless a task is - if there's a score attached to it, they'll do it. Especially if that gives them the chance to dismiss or belittle the 'noob scrubs' who aren't playing the game the 'right' way. Playing the game to have fun is optional, min-maxing and score is everything. Mind you, that same score obsessed part of the community will complain endlessly whilst grinding out their score. Then, if their complaints are listened to and the game made less grindy, they'll complain again because their grind has now been invalidated. It's nonsense like this why I have very little time for gamers anymore. In my experience, the quickest way to become throughly disenchanted with a game is to spend any length of time on its official forum.