Harde Science Fiction
an amusing science fiction story by David Rich, part 1
If you read “notes” in Substack (and if you don’t, check it out), you may have already seen this news, but… my first Cadovis story has been published outside of US! “The Spirit of Roshall” was previously posted here under a similar name.
As for today’s story, we have part 1 of 2 of a fun space adventure that may be a little tongue in cheek. When a spaceship is sent to intercept an asteroid instead of their original mission, they are disappointed. But soon, they decide to take their glory into their own hands. What could go wrong?
“Harde Science Fiction” previously appeared in Eldritch Science in April 2022.
Harde Science Fiction
part 1
by David Rich
Captain Penelope Harde stood at the podium addressing the crew of the SS Antarctica. All were assembled in the mess hall to hear her speak before they commenced the groundbreaking mission.
"I am humbled," she said, "to be leading the most important endeavor in space exploration history." Harde was cognizant that using the word “humbled” was an abuse of language. She was bragging, and “humble” wasn’t in her normal vocabulary.
She also recognized that its being the most “important endeavor in space exploration history” was debatable. Yet, the first manned voyage to Farout was nonetheless a big deal. She'd be the first human being to step on the most distant known planetoid in the Solar System!
To her left, the flash of her communicator emitted the familiar blink-pattern belonging to Admiral Song. She pursed her lips at his timing and ignored the call.
"Our leadership would only select the finest captain and crew to carry out this mission," she continued, with greater emphasis on the word “captain.” In all honesty, she had some doubts about various crew members.
She spent the next half-hour describing every success and accolade in her career. "In conclusion," she remarked finally, "you should have every reason to be confident I will lead this mission with utmost prowess. Thank you all."
At that, she stepped off the podium, grabbed her communicator, contacted the admiral, and began her walk toward the bridge.
"Harde!" Admiral Song responded quickly over the comm. "Why didn't you answer my call?"
"I was dealing with a crew emergency," Captain Harde replied. "I called at the very first possible moment."
There was a long, silent pause. Harde knew that the admiral doubted her story, but she bet that Song wouldn't have the time or patience to interrogate further.
"Thank you for calling," Song said calmly. "We have a change in mission plan."
#
When Captain Harde arrived at the bridge, most of her bridge crew had already taken their positions.
"Number Two," Harde shouted at her executive officer, Commander Misha Garsovich. "In my ready room. Right now."
She caught Garsovich's eyes glancing around the room acknowledging the crewmembers' cringes. Harde took consolation in that she could at least fill a room with dread from a simple command. Then, Garsovich followed right behind her.
Once in the privacy of the ready room, he asked her, "Why do you always call me 'Number Two?' I'm the First Officer. Shouldn't I be 'Number One?'" He then averted his gaze.
Harde adored moments when Garsovich broke from his stiff and purely professional manner. Most men she'd commanded were simply terrified of her temper. They would never dare ask such a question.
But he was different.
"Listen Commander, I shall say this once. I’m captain of this ship. There’s only one 'Number One' around here: me. Clear?"
"Perfectly."
Harde appreciated that Garsovich could communicate honestly with her while at the same time accepting her personality unconditionally. She'd never met anyone like him.
Then Harde pounded the wall in frustration right by a square inset nook. Into the wall’s nook she shouted, "Tea! Earl Grey! Freezing goddamn cold with two sugars!"
She stared at the inset, waiting for her iced tea to appear. During the awkward silence, she spotted Garsovich's Adam's apple rise.
"Come on! I don't have all day!" she shouted at the inset.
Finally, the inset’s back panel opened. Out popped the head of Bill Sinclair, her least favorite canteen employee. He sported a chef's hat with the “Galactic Food Services” logo. It was a sour reminder that Sinclair, working for the fleet's subcontractor, technically didn’t fall under her command.
Mocking Harde's tone of voice, he sneered, "Tea... Earl Grey... Iced... For crying out loud, here's your damn tea! Sheesh!"
Sinclair retracted behind the panel and shut the door. Harde wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. Then, in stressed-out slurps, she gulped down the iced tea.
"What's this all about, Captain?" Garsovich asked.
"Farout's off."
"Off?"
"You heard me."
"How could they cancel a mission this big at the last minute?"
"They didn't cancel it. That's the thing. The Antarctica isn't going. They're sending the SS Harpo Marx instead."
"What?"
"I don't want to hear it, Commander. You're preaching to the choir. Our orders instead are to chase after some silly asteroid."
"Were you told why?"
"Apparently, with our proximity and horsepower, we're the most suited to haul this asteroid to station Outer Space 8.99 3/4. Admiral Song says it’s got more lead than they've ever seen in any space rock."
"Lead?"
"Yes, you know, the metal?”
"Yes, Captain," he responded to her sarcasm with acceptable deference. "Can’t lead be used to shield human beings against radiation?”
“The rock's also loaded with osmium and iridium."
Garsovich squinted and shook his head.
Harde jumped back in, “They’re rare, but far denser and even more effective as radiation barriers. All of these metals are extremely heavy; it’s prohibitive to launch them from the Earth's surface in meaningful quantities.”
"Sounds like the mission could be very high-value to the Deep-Space Exploration and Colonization Program."
"Don’t offer me your solace, Commander. Unfortunately, I suspect compared to the Farout mission, the history books will bestow less glory upon me. Those fools! I deserve the Farout mission! Damn you, Harpo Marx!"
#
Two weeks later, the SS Antarctica arrived at Outer Space 8.99 3/4. Harde futilely wondered why space station naming conventions couldn't just round up to the nearest digit. You'd think they were selling gasoline.
The ship attached to the station via its pod bay, and Harde herself chose to escort her new guests aboard. She'd been ordered to the station to pick up Drs. Steven Stephens and Stephen Stevens, both eminent experts in the study of asteroids. Although their names were pronounced precisely the same way, apparently they had no familial relationship.
Harde walked past the space pods that sat in the bay. She suspected they'd become an important part of the mission of grappling the asteroid and lugging it back to the station. She approached an exterior door in the ship's pod bay. On the other side of the door, she knew, was an umbilical to Outer Space 8.99 3/4, where her two guests were expecting to board.
After a few minutes of waiting for the door to open, she pursed her lips and began tapping her fingers against the back of her opposite hand.
"When’s the door going to open?" she asked a nearby officer.
"They're probably doing safety checks, Captain," the woman replied. "I'll contact Engineering for you if you'd like."
She knew the officer would call some peon in the Engineering Department. But Harde was captain! This required escalation.
She opened her comm to Lieutenant Hal Epstein, Head of Engineering. Harde happened to be on a 'friendly' basis with him.
"What can I do for you, Captain?" Epstein's voice rang in her comm.
"Hal, you can call me Penelope."
"Yes, Captain. Umm, Penelo-"
"Hal, can you get a door open for me? It's in the pod bay. The one attached to OS 8.99 3/4."
"I'll look into it, Captain. I mean, Penelope. I think we're still doing safety checks."
She detected nonchalance in his tone and wasn't encouraged. Harde continued tapping her fingers for several minutes. The personnel nearby seemed busy. Were they too busy to open the damn door? Didn't they realize who was in charge of the damn ship?
The loss of the Farout mission weighing on her, Harde’s facial muscles tightened. She’d accept no further nonsense. The captain clenched her communicator in one hand, walked straight to the door, and pounded it with her other fist.
"Open the pod bay door, Hal!" she shouted into her communicator. "Open the pod bay door! Hal, open the pod bay door! Damn it!"
She stepped to the side of the door and ripped several panels off. Harde spent the next twenty minutes hot-wiring it. When it opened, safety warnings blared. It's difficult to find good help these days, she thought.
On the other side of the door were too short bald men she could barely tell apart. Harde assumed they were her new science officers, Steven Stephens and Stephen Stevens.
#
The Antarctic blasted from Outer Space 8.99 3/4 to the Kuiper belt toward a unique floating goldmine of radiation-shielding heavy metals. And in outer space, osmium, iridium, and lead were more precious than gold, for they conferred healthier long-term living.
After three months' travel, they approached the mission's coordinates. The entire bridge crew was staring at the asteroid on the giant viewscreen.
"It's odd-looking," Commander Garsovich commented to Harde.
Harde wasn't sure why her stare lingered far too long on Garsovich. When one of the two Stevens-Stephens scientists noticed her gazing at him, she quickly redirected her eyes to the asteroid's image on the viewscreen and then to navigation control.
"Whatever it looks like," she said, "let's just grab it and lug it home."
"It has some unusual features," Steven Stephens and Stephen Stevens said in unison.
"You guys really have to stop doing that," Harde said. "It's difficult enough to tell you apart."
Stephen Stevens (or Steven Stephens, she was only 75% sure) approached the screen. "Look at that," he said, pointing to a peculiar protrusion.
"It looks like a big green toothbrush," said Steven Stephens. "Let's call that feature 'Big Green Toothbrush.'"
The other scientist said, "This could be evidence of alien technology!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Harde replied.
Then the scientist pair pulled up additional close-up images of the asteroid onto the viewscreen. The bridge grew silent. The surface was simply too ordered and elaborate to be natural. If that large detail were a 'toothbrush,' the asteroid had a whole medicine cabinet.
Garsovich commented, "If I were an alien on a long distance, multi-generational voyage, I'd cover it in radiation-shielding metals."
Harde stepped closer to the screen and studied the images. As her eyes silently rolled across the amazing, intricate structures, she grasped the significance of this discovery. In that moment, she'd all but forgotten about Farout.
She imagined her ship bringing home the first evidence of intelligent life in the celestials! Her mind conceived various courses of action in search of the one that would bestow upon her the most accolades.
"This is... incredible," Harde said.
"And the aliens must have really big mouths," Steven Stephens said. "Because that’s one Big Green Toothbrush!"
"It's not a toothbrush, for Pete’s sake!" Harde shouted.
"Possibly. But we should still refer to it as 'Big Green Toothbrush,'" Steven Stephens replied. "That's how you're supposed to label features of alien artifacts. After something that it reminds you of."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
"Nonetheless, it will forever endure in the minds of men as 'Big Green Toothbrush.'"
The other scientist, Stephen Stevens, nodded.
"Say 'Big Green Toothbrush' one more time, and I'll space you both out the airlock," Harde said. Then, turning to Garsovich, "Commander... in my ready room."
As she exited the bridge, she could just barely hear Steven Stephens mumble under his breath, "Big Green Toothbrush. Big Green Toothbrush."
#
Both in the ready room, Harde found herself again gazing at the commander. Catching herself, she looked at the ceiling.
"Captain, our orders were to tug that thing home," Garsovich said. "We need to explain our findings to command."
Redirecting her eyes back to Garsovich and trying to ignore the fact that she was blushing, she replied, "You know what they'll say, Commander. They'll say our orders are to tug that thing home."
"But you don't want to."
"Oh, I certainly do. But I'm not giving someone else the opportunity to be the first person inside that thing."
With Garsovich, she felt comfortable being transparent about her motives. He knew her too well for her to bother hiding the truth. In fact, the better he understood her desires, the more effective he was in driving crew execution toward them. Wow, she liked that about him!
"Captain, we have no idea what that thing is. It could be dangerous to the crew."
“To me as well, but I’m coming on the away mission.”
After a brief pause and an inhale, Garsovich tapped his chin repeatedly, alternating two fingers. Harde took his contemplation as an encouraging sign.
"Maybe it doesn't want to be lugged to a human base. It could be dangerous to the entire human race," Garsovich said. "So... yes, I agree with you, Captain. We need to check it out first ourselves."
Harde grinned. He’d schemed a perfectly legitimate rationale for promoting her fame and glory. What a mind on that man!
It occurred to Harde that not every captain was so lucky to have a Commander Misha Garsovich. In fact, she imagined that a captain could go her entire career without ever meeting a Commander Misha Garsovich. Or worse, she thought, a captain could grow old and lonely and die without ever meeting a commander who just appreciated her for who she was, both ambition and baggage alike, without ever doubting his devotion to her!
Burying her train of thought, Harde's grin briefly evaporated.
#
"This away mission will be quite unusual and dangerous. So, I'm starting with volunteers," Garsovich said to the bridge crew.
Harde smirked. She knew full well that she'd order people to join if the right ones didn't volunteer.
"This is insane! It's beyond any accepted protocol," Steven Stephens complained. “We need to communicate with Command first. They'll be seeing the data and images soon."
"And that's why we need to go inside now!" Stephen Stevens, the other scientist, exclaimed.
Harde was stunned. "You two can disagree with one another?" she asked.
"Most certainly," Stephen Stevens replied. "As a matter of fact, I personally think that feature looks more like a disposable razor than a toothbrush. But, this mission, Captain…”
Harde resisted the urge to strangle him; she was too eager to find out why the scientist favored her admittedly reckless plan. The entire bridge crew, in fact, stared silently at Stephens Stevens.
Appearing self-conscious, Stevens looked nervously at the other faces on the bridge. But the crew was keenly regarding him. Harde gave him an affirmative nod to encourage him along.
"I'm a scientist," Stephen Stevens continued. "Being the first person on that thing is a dream come true. It's the greatest opportunity any of us will see in our lifetimes."
"You can be certain that I'm coming with you," Lieutenant Aliyah Cassidy, Head of Security, said. Cassidy was petite, but her sharpshooting skills and knowledge of weaponry were unmatched.
In short order, a team of a dozen had volunteered. Even Stevens Stephens, yes, even Stevens Stephens (say that five times), the doubter and frequent mentioner of alien toothbrushes, agreed to go along.
Thank goodness for group think, Harde thought.
#
In the shuttle pod on the way to the alien artifact, Cassidy was handing out hand blasters. Harde raised her hand to refuse; she always carried her own trusted sidearm.
The overly excited Stephen Stevens stared pitifully at Cassidy's giant laser rifle. "Can I hold it?" he begged.
"Not a chance," Cassidy replied. "You have any idea how powerful this is?"
"We're not shooting at anything!" Steven Stephens, the dour scientist, said. "We have no idea what's inside that thing."
"Which is why we need to be armed," Stephen Stevens argued.
"Now, Steven Stephens is right," Commander Garsovich said.
Everyone stared at the XO. Since both scientists' names were pronounced identically, no one could possibly know to which one he was referring.
"I mean that one," Garsovich said, pointing to the more level-headed scientist, Steven Stephens. "Keep all firearms on safety-lock until there's some real emergent danger. That's an order."
Harde didn't argue; she agreed. The last thing she wanted was someone screwing up the mission because they were excited to fire a blaster.
She looked out the pod's window and examined the asteroid's intricate features, which didn't wholly resemble a city. She postulated that they could be the facilities and infrastructure to support a city inside the asteroid. Perhaps when they found their way in, they'd find millions of aliens living in harmony.
Then again, maybe the aliens didn't want to be disturbed. It was clearly best that she be the one to make first contact rather than haul it millions of miles in a direction it didn't want to go.
They flew around the object several times in search of an opening. It had to have a door.
Then, Harde spotted something. "I spotted something," she said, thinking that her statement was rather on the nose.
The apparent entrance, a dark pit, had been right there all along at the base of (though Harde struggled for a better name) Big Green Toothbrush.
#
The shuttle anchored into the surface of the alien asteroid, right at the base of the toothbrush. Donning grappling space suits, the crew trekked to the dark pit Harde had identified.
The captain looked straight down the hole. It seemed to extend to infinity.
Suddenly, from the depths of the hole, came a platform.
Harde looked at the crew then broke the radio silence. "You suspect that's our way in?"
"We should be careful," Garsovich radioed back.
"I'll go first," Cassidy, the security officer, said.
Harde nodded affirmatively, and Cassidy stepped onto the round platform. Several seconds later, the platform dropped, pulling Cassidy along.
"Cassidy!... Cassidy!" Garsovich shouted.
"The metals are probably shielding the electromagnetic radio signal," Steven Stephens said. "Try leaning right over the hole."
Garsovich glanced around at the bewildered crew, then took the scientist's advice. "Cassidy? Cassidy? Do you read?" he radioed.
Within a few moments, he continued, "I can hear her. She's okay... She's inside!"
Everyone in the group cheered. Harde even raised her right hand above her head. She hoped she would remember Cassidy's bravery.
— check back for part 2 soon!—
Meet the author:
David Rich holds two degrees from MIT and lives in the Boston area with his family. His short fiction has been featured over the last several years in numerous literary journals. But he's really just an engineer and wannabe writer.
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