Bova, Ben - Life as We Know It

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BEN BOVA

LIFE AS WE KNOW IT

They were all there, all the Grand Old Men of the field: McKay, Kliest,

Taranto--even Sagan, little more than an ancient withered husk in his electric

wheelchair. But the fire still burned in his deep, dark eyes.

All the egos and superegos who had given their lifetimes to the search for

extraterrestrial life. Often they had been derided by the media, scorned by the

politicians, even scoffed at by their fellow scientists; this was going to be

their day. One way or the other.

Jupiter was going to reveal its secrets to them. Today. Life on another world at

last. Make or break.

I could feel the tension in the room, like just before a thunderstorm, that

electrical smell in the air that makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

Careers would be made today, or broken. Mine included. That's whey everyone was

here, waiting impatiently, chattering nervously, staring at the display screens

that still showed nothing but crackling streaks of random noise.

The mission control center was a big room, huge really, but now it was jammed

with bodies, hot and sweaty, buzzing with voices in half a dozen languages. The

project scientists, all the top government officials, invitees like Sagan,

hangers-on who inveigled their way in, everybody who thought or hoped they'd

capture some of the glory of the moment, and more than a hundred news reporters

and photographers, all crammed into the mission control chamber, all talking at

once. Like a tribe of apes, jabbering, gesticulating, posturing to hide their

dreams and ambitions and fear.

They didn't want to miss the first images from beneath the cloud tops of

Jupiter. Even if it killed them, they had to be at mission control when the

probe's first pictures came in.

Most of the reporters clustered around Sagan, of course, although quite a few

hung near Lopez-Oyama, the center's director. Our boss.

Beautiful Allie stayed at Lopez-Oyama's side. Allison Brandt, she of the golden

hair and pendulous breasts. I dreamed about Allie, saw her flawlessly naked,

smiling at me willingly. In my waking hours I thought about her endlessly,

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picturing myself doing things with her that not even my dreams dared to imagine.

But she stayed beside the director, next to the power and the attention. I was

merely an engineer, neither powerful nor glamorous. Still, I longed for Allie.

Lusted after her. Even as she smiled for the photographers I noticed how she had

artfully undone an extra couple of buttons on the front of her blouse.

"Imagery systems check," droned the voice of the mission controller. The huge

room fell absolutely silent. I held my breath.

"Imagery systems functioning."

We all let out a sigh of relief. Me especially. The imagery systems were my

responsibility. I built them. If they failed, the mission failed, I failed, six

dozen careers would go down the tubes, six dozen frustrated scientists would be

seeking my blood.

Our probe into Jupiter was unmanned, of course. No astronaut could survive the

crushing pressures and turbulent storms beneath the cloud deck of Jupiter. No

one knew if our robotic probe was sturdy enough to reach below the cloud tops

and survive.

Over the years, the earlier probes had shown that beneath those gaudy colorful

swirling clouds there was an ocean ten times larger than the whole Earth. An

ocean of water. Heavily laced with ammonia, to be sure, but water nonetheless.

There was only one other world in the solar system where liquid water existed --

Earth. We knew that liquid water meant life on Earth.

Did it on Jupiter?

"Jupiter represents our best chance for finding extraterrestrial life."

Lopez-Oyama had said those words to the congressional committee that ruled on

NASA's budget, when he went begging to them for the money to fund our mission.

"Life?" asked one of the Congressmen, looking startled, almost afraid. "Like

animals and trees and such?"

I watched those hearings on TV; we all did, sitting on the edges of our chairs

in the center's cafeteria while the politicians decided if we lived or died. I

had picked a seat next to Allie, although she barely acknowledged my presence

beside her. She stared unwaveringly at the screen.

With a tolerant little shake of his head, Lopez-Oyama replied, "It probably

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Bova, Ben - Life as We Know It

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