Omega Station Part 2 of 3

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And then ten days later I get a rush order to pack my things back up and return to my previous post. Yes, you did. Because I had a plan. Because my former patient was performing what they had nicknamed a self-hostage situation? It's an inartful term, but I would expect that from the military. Hopefully in the future they will call it the Laskham Maneuver. The Laskham Maneuver being when an officer consistently gets drunk for his broadcast sessions until his demands are met? Yes, but you're not describing it right. How should I describe it? As a patriotic act. I only did what's best for the mission. There is no way that's true. Wait, are you still drinking? Yeah, of course I am. I didn't know you were coming. I thought I would have to blather drunkenly at the next... ROOB they put in front of the microphone. I still have a full lab of beaker of booze. Do I want to know how you managed to make booze three billion miles from Earth? Did you build a Tiki Bar up there? I didn't, but damn, that is a fantastic idea. Maybe a neon sign that says Coors. Soon Pluto will be Planet Mankave. Seriously though? Seriously though. I had to adopt a prison mentality. I thought to myself, how do prisoners get drunk? In my research, I discovered a love letter to human ingenuity. Pruno. Oh, God. Cold pruno? Because it was originally made using prunes and a toilet. Gross. How did you get prunes in space? Well, that's a bit of a misnomer now. It hasn't been made with prunes for many iterations. It's really just made of any sort of fruit and a hot lamp of some sort. There's an ordinary little blackberry bush in the ag dome. And I said, fruit? Check. Hot lamp? Check. Next thing you know, drunk. Drunk. Drunk. Drunk. I'm so torn between thinking this is a sweet gesture and trying to maintain some sort of professionalism. I am shocked. Shocked, I say, to find that there's still professionalism down there. Yeah, I may be the lone holdout, but they can have my Hippocratic oath when they pry it from my cold dead hands. That's the spirit, Dr. Give me stethoscope or give me death. Okay. Speaking of that, Lars, while this conversation is exactly as entertaining as I thought it would be, I will have conditions. Of course, of course. Fire away. I admire the ingenuity, but I think we can both agree that getting drunk in space is incredibly dangerous. Dr, if it's so dangerous, why do I feel invincible? I'm serious, Lars. I know, I know. You know, when I was on earth, I never felt too much like drinking it. It wasn't a thing I did. Yes. And let's recapture that feeling. Okay? You can't be drunk while monitoring a volatile reactor. Well, it sounds like someone's never been to Russia. Lars. I promise, I promise. What are your other conditions? That's it, really. At the risk of legitimizing your childish behavior, I'm glad I'm back. Me too. That was some pretty bad news you laid on me right before we were cut off. I know. I know. I still don't know if it was the right thing. It was. I mean, for humans, it was maybe not for the NASA work jobs. They can still hear me right. Yep. Work jobs. But it was the human thing. Me telling you earth as we know it is doomed? Well, yes. People should tell each other the truth in times like this. It's not like you can do anything about it. It's just more stress. And stress can lead to performance erosion. Performance erosion. Right. Always managing performance erosion. I know the mission criteria too. Erosion. I'm a river delta all of a sudden. People monitoring my erosion. The criteria is there for a reason. Who's left? What do you mean? On earth. How many people are left? Lars, just because I told you what I told you. Just because I told you what I told you doesn't mean I bombard you with statistics. It's too much. I'm guessing a third of the population is gone. But there's no way to really tell because you can't get reliable information from the infected areas. Yes. No end in sight. No. Well, that sucks. It really does. I mean, I was never a fan of earth. But still. I was a fan. Call me old fashioned. Where are you from? Wait, I can guess. New Mexico. No. Colorado. No. Missouri. You're bad at this. I'm from Eureka, California. Where the hell is that? It's north of San Francisco. Where the weed comes from? I thought that was Napa. Napa is wine. North of that is the weed. I see. There is literally a town there called weed. I admire its directness. More towns should do that. Hi, I'm from Corn, Iowa. Hi, I'm from Russet, Idaho. You are now passing through Colby, Jack, Minnesota. Welcome to Holy Shitfucking Alligators, Florida. Oh, wow. We just named a bunch of ghost towns, didn't we? Yes. I mean, they would be if they actually existed. One of the NASA guys showed me satellite footage of my hometown. It's a little town on the coast, and now it's completely taken over by seals. Seals? They're everywhere, flopping their way down Main Street. It's been evacuated. There's no people there anymore, so I guess they just took over. What an adorable apocalypse. Surf's us right, I guess. They probably hated those tricks we made them do. Well, the ball's on the other nose now, isn't it, Lars? Now, I'm just imagining seals all dressed in townspeople clothing, like seal baker, seal mailman. The seal mayor would have a nice little sash around him and some sort of curly mustache. That's exactly right. Yeah, as adorable as that is, it's still pretty fucking grim, Lars. It is. I know. But I have a plan. A plan? Does this plan involve your space wine? The space wine was just phase one of the plan. It's time for phase two now. Okay, what's phase two? I'll be honest, I'm a little too drunk to talk about phase two, but let me assure you, it is very... very real and very much the second part of the plan. Okay, before we hit phase two, can we do a phase 1.5 where you stop drinking and get some rest? Yes. Good. I'll do that. I, uh... I thought I lost you. I thought I lost you. I'm right here. Okay. I have a plan. Okay. Good night, Lars. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. Good night. Can I get a status update on Solar Field 5 and 7? Status report is that there is fucking ice all over fucking everything. An actual status report, Svee? Five and the seven clear in 90 minutes. We've got another geyser outside of Field 3. Stareous! Check the cameras. Fucking hell. They're gonna have to go back to 3 after they're done. This is second shift. You're going to tell them that? Yes. I am going to tell them that. I'll also tell them that if they don't clear the Solar Field, we don't have enough power reserves, and if we don't have enough power reserves, we die. Do you think they'll be adequately motivated? Remember Episode of Star Trek where they go to the alien planet, and everyone is sexy, and wearing sexy clothes? You just described every episode of Star Trek. You're saying they inspire us to go to space, and it is scraping ice, not sexy. You'd think scraping ice would remind you of home. One consistent thing about people not from Poland. They have no idea what Poland is like. When I think of Poland, I just think of potato soup. We have a lot of potato soup. That is true. But it also has sausage in it. And you are breaking the food rule. I said sausage. Now you want sausage. God damn it. Fuck you, Poland. Geyser is still going. This is a big one. Field 3 is going to be covered in snow. You know, I was one of those people that hated Christmas. I was always glad to see the family pack up their shit and leave. Now I live on a moon where it's Christmas every goddamn day. I'm making tea. Do you want some? I don't want, because it's not really tea. Zvi, yes or no? Yeah, okay. What the hell is this? Who's on comms? Let me rephrase that. Who the hell is playing music through the comm system right now? And how excited are you to have straight ice duty all next week? Also, what the hell is this song? God damn it. Zvi? Zvi, where are you? Yeah, I am hearing it. Is this pop music in Poland? This is not me. Where is it coming from? From someone else. Everyone else is scraping ice, Zvi. Are they puking us? Punk? Are they punking us? Yes. Zvi, I'm pretty sure the protocol up here is that the captain asks the chief engineer where a sound is coming from, and then that question is answered. Hang it up a minute. What the fuck is this song? It's not us. What do you mean? External signal. No joke. From where? Don't know. Okay. Well, that breaks up the monotony. Why couldn't the stray signal be some disco, right? You know, Poland. I know. Poland has its own version of disco and it's far superior. So much to be proud of. Hey, could this be a radio broadcast from Earth from a long time ago and it's just reaching us now? This is probably from what? 1920? Radio signal travels at speed of light once it's in the vacuum of space. This signal would be at the other side of the galaxy by now. You live in space. You should know more about the space. Learn about the chain of command and I'll learn some space facts. Gamma station. This is Iris actual. Do you read me? What the fucking hell is that? Gamma station. This is Iris actual. Do you read? This is Gamma station. Identify yourself, please. Hi, I'm Jill. Svi? Standard radio signal. That's impossible. Hey, Jill. This is a military outpost. Do you want to give me some proper identification? Yes, sorry. This is Lieutenant J.G. Jill Menaker of NASA Special Command broadcasting on a special emergency frequency from Earth. Svi, were you going to tell me about a special emergency frequency anytime soon? It's bullshit. It's regular frequency. Again, impossible. Hey there, Lieutenant Menaker broadcasting on a special emergency frequency. There's no such thing as a special emergency frequency. Also, I've been told recently that I don't know enough space facts, but I'm pretty sure for you to be talking to me in real time from Earth defies the laws of physics. I told you she wouldn't go for it. Lars. Who is that? Wait, Lars. Lieutenant, is that you? Hey, Captain. How? The fucking fuck is happening. Jill, we really need to work on our approach next time. What do you mean? I think it's going great. Okay. I need one person to speak to me immediately and tell me what is happening on my station. Lars, have you ditched? Are you in your escape vehicle? Are you buzzing my tower? My escape vehicle is not functioning, Ruby. I'm still on Pluto. Not possible. I know, Svi, but here we are having a conversation. Here's the deal. For the past several months, I have been engaging in a top secret DoD experiment on Omega Station. And I'm the mission liaison on Earth. We've been testing an experimental communications array that allows us to talk in real time across the system. Fuck off. It's regular radio signal. It uses standard radio frequencies. How? Explain how. I can't. They won't tell me how it works. Okay. Stop. This has got to be the most horseshit non-military way of rolling out this information you could have possibly chosen. I'm with the captain on this one. So what the hell would be the right way? Maybe not with an opening song, Lieutenant. And the song was to get your attention. You send me a mission profile. You send me protocols. You don't do this Mickey Mouse shit. Ruby, none of that means anything anymore. Oh. Is that what you've decided? Why am I not surprised? You're not getting the news from Earth that I'm getting. We are getting it. You are? Svi. It's okay. Yes. We get it. I, uh, you know, a little Polish-Greece. Of course. Polish-Greece. They send us all the news, but it is encrypted in secret file. Encryption is shit. I break it in four hours. We know about the Pacific. We know about the Mississippi. We know about Australia. But can we get back to how us talking is completely impossible? I apologize about the secrecy. The secrecy wasn't my choice. I was testing this array with the DoD. I'm the only one left on Omega Station, and since I was the only one they could test the array with, I started making demands. And your demand was to phone a friend? Among other things, yes. Reaching out to other people. That's a prize incoming from you, Lars. Hey, a few billion kilometers, suddenly I'm a whole new man. So let me sum up here. If you sum it up, it's gonna sound way worse than it actually is. To sum up. You have effectively seized control of an experimental...no. Revolutionary communications array, and you have no idea how it works. And even though we're currently using this mystery device, they're not going to tell us how it works. No, I highly doubt it. Well, that is a dick move, isn't it? I work with them, and I can confirm that they are tremendous dicks. Sve, figure out how this thing works. Yeah. Jesus Christ, to what end, Lieutenant, why are you doing this? Okay. I have a plan. Actually, guys, if I could just jump in here real quick. This is a lot for everyone. We're all taking in a lot of information, and I think we need to take a step back for a minute. We don't want issues hovering over us. We don't want them coming up the wrong times. Everyone can get so wrapped up in duties that we steamroll over other issues, and then they come up in opportune times. So, Captain, before we get into anything else, are there any questions you want to ask Lars about your sister? Jesus Christ, they made the mission liaison a shrink, didn't they? They did. And I've heard all the jokes, most of them from Lars. And just to get it all out of the way, we are all very impressed by how tough you all are. You are astronauts. You are brave. You are American heroes, blah, blah, blah, etc. Now that I've said all that, Captain, is there anything you would like to ask Lieutenant Laskam about your sister? Steve? Still working! Do I want to know how it happened? Ruby, I don't know. We weren't even halfway through our trip, and we started having environmental problems. It was a leaky boat the whole way. The oxygen mixture in her cabin failed while she was asleep. She died peacefully. I told him that fucking design was flawed. I told him to scrap it and start from the beginning. It was four missions being developed very fast because the design team thought the world was coming to an end. Turns out they were right. What did you do with her body? When things started to get tenuous, we had a meeting about last rights. She wanted to be, you know, buried at sea. If our timing was correct, her body is now orbiting Neptune. That sounds like her. I guess it's a step up from the family plot in Spartanburg. There are worse places to spend eternity, I can tell you that. Jupiter and Saturn are so massive and bright, but Neptune... Neptune sneaks up on you somehow. You know you're approaching it, but you can't see anything. And then suddenly it moves out of the darkness, this deep blue giant. Looks like it's thinking about something. Like it's lost in thought. Like she always was. I'm sorry you're out there all alone, Lars. At least I still have a crew of shitheads to yell at. Well, according to my doctor, who whether you like it or not is now your doctor. I am perfectly suited to this particular situation. I in no way said you were perfectly suited. What I mean is... I'm going to be okay. Bots and Bosch! Svi? Some fucked up shit going on, chief. What's happening? Sending you an image from the orbiter two hours ago. Can you get it to me? I don't know it. Hey, a doctor lady. Is that me? Is there a data stream on this frequency? Oh, yes. We use it to play Scrabble. The fuck? Send it, Svi. Okay, yeah. Sending to all parties. Where is this? I'd say about 5,000 kilometers right above our head. What the hell is that? No idea. I'm seeing it now too. You have no idea? I'm thinking. Could it just be a lens flare or something? We can find out. Okay, Lars. Go to satellite imagery of your orbiter. Go to the last image the orbiter takes of your station. It should be a steel image of your station from orbit. I have one too. It's above my station. I mean, it looks like something and nothing at the same time. You're right. It looks about 5,000 kilometers above me. It's a perfect circle. It's just a blur, yeah? Yes, it's weird. Perfect circle of weird shit. Can I ask Dr. Lady a question? Kill is fine. Okay. When you talk to Omega Station, does it have to be a particular time of year or time of day? No, I can talk to him anytime. Okay. Distance does not matter. Standard radio signal. Distance does not matter. Circle of weird shit above us. Svi, please don't go to the weird, thank you place. Okay, okay. Spatial distortion. Only thing I can think. You think there's a spatial distortion above both of our stations right now? Yeah, I bet. That would explain just about everything, wouldn't it? And yet, I have questions. I'm just gonna sit here patiently and wait for one of the space people to explain to me what a spatial distortion is. It's a shortcut, basically. You poke a hole in the fabric of space and make a shortcut between two points. Theoretically, no one has ever seen spatial distortion. No one knows how to make spatial distortion unless they figure it out back home. So they poke a hole in the fabric of space and broadcast a standard radio signal through it so there's no time to lag. I mean, yeah. In theory, I am just pulling shit out the butthole right now. This space station is very sweary. Jill, are there mission scientists in the broadcast room right now? They are here and they are all looking at me. How's their poker face? Well, they all look like they just got their pants pulled down. Is that a bad poker face? It is. Whoa, whoa, whoa. There are people listening to this broadcast right now? Right now Jill is in the broadcast chamber and she is surrounded by all of the scientists who built whatever this is. And they're not telling us what we need to know. They're just standing there silent while we listen to ZV pull shit out the butthole. Yes. You see, when I performed a hostile takeover of this top secret project, we agreed that I would be allowed to point this thing wherever I wanted to, but they would not tell me how it works. Oh, really? Attention, anyone listening to this broadcast, this is Captain Ruby Rose McMartin of the Gamma International Space Station. At this time, I would like to address the dickless wonders that are currently withholding information from my team regarding this contraption that has somehow created an alleged spatial distortion 5000 kilometers above our heads. Look, I get it. As a NASA officer, I am no stranger to top secret materials. And were we in an optimal position right now, we would certainly respect your privacy. However, there are currently four stations out here in the darkness perched on uninhabitable rocks with our asses hanging out in the breeze. And speaking of asses and breezes, there is currently a pandemic raging across your planet, making it not that much more inhabitable than ours. So, in light of all that, you are now going to send us your entire mission profile via the data stream. And if you do not do so, we will have no choice but to inform what's left of the international community that the U.S. Department of Defense is fucking around with the fabric of space. I look forward to receiving your materials and I look forward to our future collaboration. Well, that's a strong negotiating tactic. I wish I'd thought of that. Jill, what's happening down there? They are currently in a sort of rugby scrum of nerds. Wait, one of them is getting a call. He's talking? He's talking. He's signaling to one of the other nerds. Um, things are happening? We are getting it right now. Oh, terabytes of it. Holy shit. Christmas morning for Svee. Well, look at that. Progress. Can you understand any of that, Svee? Not sure where to start. They sent us everything. I think they are trying to bury us in data. Some of these shit, some of these files are from 1960s. This project is older than everyone. It's going to dive in. Be back soon. So, Lieutenant, between the two of us, we've just seized control of government property. It's probably a court-martial. I don't think there's any space-faring military tribunals. We should be fine. I imagine the Joint Chiefs are otherwise occupied. Sure. To be honest, as we watched the news roll in, I began to wonder if anyone even remembers we're up here. We do. Oh, good. The top secret military project in an undisclosed location remembers us. Does anyone remember you, folks? I think we may have gotten lost in the shuffle a bit. Which is ridiculous. Without a virus on Earth, everyone would be talking about it. These stations are the planet's greatest achievement. Everyone's missing it. Understandable. So, Doctor Lady, we get the news, but we don't know what it's like on the ground. What's it like down there? It's hard to tell for sure. The space is out in the country. Green Bank, Best Virginia. That's correct. There's a small town nearby that we've basically taken over. People are this weird combination of caring and suspicious at the same time. Every time someone sneezes, there's almost a lynching. They hold their loved ones close and hope for the best. That's all they really can do. Somehow, though, people stick to old habits. There's a corner store in town that hasn't gotten a delivery for, I think, a year now, but the guy who owns the store opens up every day at 8 a.m. One day he brought in a cardboard box of tomatoes that his wife had grown in her garden, but then realized he couldn't sell them because no one had any money anymore. So he gave them away. And then someone with a peanut allergy came by with peanut butter that was in their rations and left it there for someone else. And then people started coming in to take things and leave things. It was like humanity was this spark that they wanted to keep going, like a pilot light on an old gas stove. That's why we called you, Ruby. How do you mean? Well, I have a plan. Well, fuck me, everybody. Lars has a plan. Don't take this the wrong way, but you weren't our first call. You know, we tried calling Europa. Lars. They told us we couldn't call Europa for some reason. You can't call Europa because Europa is gone. How do you know that? They don't have comms and they don't have an orbiter, Lars. We can't see or hear them. That doesn't mean that they're gone. If they don't have comms, it means something very, very bad has happened, and it happened a long time ago. We don't know what it is, but there's no way to find out. There's no way? What do you want me to do, Lars? Call NASA? There's no one on the other end of the line. Well, then we've got to figure it out for ourselves. Then you don't have a plan. You have a desire, and it's not the same thing. We're all scientists. We all went to school. We can figure something out. Lars, they're dead, okay? We said our goodbyes to Europa a long time ago. You know that's true. I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I? You have an operational reactor. You have operational comms, and you have whatever the fucking science experiment is. They don't have any of that. Excuse me, please. I wanted to come back in because you're saying wrong things. Svi, don't start. Theoretically, Europa could operate without reactor on very low power for a very long time. I said this back then. Theoretically. What? Gravity is still just theory, but here we are, not flying around. How could they survive, Svi? Europa has something no one has. They have oxygen, thin layer. Station is designed to suck in oxygen and process for breathing. It uses very little energy. They only need nitrogen burner for big stuff. Well, that sounds like more than a snowball's chance in hell. Okay. You have a plan, right? That's what you said. You have a plan. Yes. What's next in your plan? Tell me that. Let's say somehow someone is still alive on Europa. We figure out a way to point Lieutenant Laskam's magical whizzbang device at them and make contact. Then what? If local comms are still active, I patch in to local comms. Great. Then what? Then, you know, hello, how are you? And then, what kind of assistance can we offer them? None. And they're going to need it, by the way. If they are alive on Europa, they're going through hell every day. For them to be alive right now, they would have had to have rationed everything, including oxygen. To get out of their rack in the morning, they'd have no idea if they'd be conscious once they stood up. They would be constantly starving, out of breath, and going mad. That's what you want to tune in for, so we can witness it. So years from now, someone finally gets back to Europa and just finds skeletons in the fetal position? That's what I would prefer. If it were me, that's what I would... Ruby? Ruby, are you there? Did we lose them? Svi? Hang it up for a minute. Fuck! Ruby, are you okay? What a fucker! What's happening? She is very stubborn, but then she will get a very good idea in the middle of being stubborn, and then she will walk away from the mic and yell. Because, you see, it's a good idea she just had, and it's about to fuck up everything she was about to do. It's fun. Let's watch. It's the orbiter. It's a goddamn orbiter. Svi? Go off with Svi. Do a word search in the documentation they're sending us for orbiter. What's the relationship between the orbiter and the... whatever it is, the spatial distortion? Hold, please. So, uh... What's going on over there, Ruby? Lars, have you fully drank in the irony of it being you, of all people, who are trying to get us to talk to each other? Yeah, I have drank the irony. Among other things. Got it. You are right, boss. Tell me. Okay. Orbiter is how they target the spatial distortion. With no satellite overhead, they cannot open the distortion. Europa has no satellite, so Earth cannot reach it. But we have a satellite. We do have one of those, yes. And a great big gas giant to slingshot it around. Very big planet. Great big rings. Which leaves us without an orbiter. Eh. Orbiter is bullshit. We don't need it now. We have big magical ring in the sky we can talk through. For as long as it lasts, what if it goes away? It cannot go away. There it is. I know you think you're speaking English. I explain like this. If you need a hole in the ground, you dig a hole. If you stop needing the hole, it does not go away. There is still hole there. Forever. Earth has dug the hole in space. It does not go away. You're sure about that? It's a theory. I just tell you about how gravity is a theory. Ruby, the orbiter is mainly for NASA observations. And as far as we can tell, there's no one observing. I would still be throwing an asset at a dead station. Possibly dead. Probably dead. It's worth the risk. No, it's not. Not yet. The clock is ticking right now. It's pointless for us to make contact with the station in distress if we can't do anything about their distress. Think about it, Lars. They're alone on the brink of death and then a friend calls just to say hi. What do you suggest? I suggest we do what we should have done at the beginning of this conversation. We're calling the cops. God damn it. That's a huge mistake. What did you expect? This experiment of yours can't stay the best kept secret in the Kuiper Belt. He's just gonna shut it down. I'll deal with that. It's an unsanctioned unsupervised military experiment. You know how he's gonna react to that? We don't know. Things could be different now. Look at you. Back on Earth, you were an arrogant, antisocial shithead. Now you're an arrogant shithead who has learned the value of friends. Such growth, Lieutenant. This is a mistake. Dr. Lady? Really? Jill is fine. Please inform the Army of Nerds down there that we want to open up another thingamajig. Okay. What are we doing? 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