Jovian

By Michael G. Long

It has been hundreds of years since the human race departed Earth and spread among the stars. In that time it has colonized many worlds and star systems. Humans first encountered extraterrestrial life in the most unlikely of places, the atmosphere of gas giants. As humanity expanded they were surprised to find this same species of life inhabiting almost all similar planets across distant star systems. A discovery that was soon to be exploited.

Corbin Bishop is the most accomplished Diver in the history of his profession. A profession that is among the most dangerous but most lucrative in the Galactic Federation. Plunging headlong into the atmosphere of gas giant planets in pursuit of an alien prey takes courage, skill, and a lot of luck. On one such dive, while reunited with his former student and friend, Kora, on a planet at the outer reaches of the federated systems, he and his elite team encounter more than they bargain for. When things start to go wrong, a routine dive turns into a fight for survival. What they encounter will forever change their understanding of the complexity and diversity of life with far reaching implications for the future development and evolution of the human race.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael G. Long
• Release date: May 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463149638

Michael G. Long

Michael G. Long is a long time resident of the Pacific Northwest. Born in Alaska, raised by bears, then domesticated and finally relocated to the lower forty-eight. He now spends his time researching and writing about anything to do with science and the future of humanity. Because of his early experience in the wild, his primal side lends to an adventurous nature that is often incorporated into the characters of his stories. With a disposition that originates from outside of the general human population, the idea of mundane and monotonous day to day activities is something of little interest to Michael. On the other hand, if there is a stimulating and intellectual conversation afoot about the development of new technologies, cutting edge physics, the expansion and evolution of consciousness, and the origins of humanity or its future, then he will be ready and willing to engage. Though sometimes reluctant to be associated with his fellow humans, he enjoys socializing with good and interesting people, healthy doses of sarcasm, consuming gourmet foods, craft beer, and single malt whiskey. Something that was denied him when roaming the Alaskan wilderness as a young cub. The wild still calls and Michael admits to feeling, at times, trapped by the confines of a society where freedom favors those with money and limits those without. A concept that deeply troubles him and that is not present in nature. Despite some of the more frustrating aspects of civilization, he admits, that being domesticated does come with some perks. In particular, hot showers, Netflix, and of course single malt whiskey (preferably at least 12 years old). Ultimately Michael is an optimist. One thing we can all do to help each other succeed, he says, is to move forward together, with kindness, understanding, and open hearts and minds. He also says that the world is dark, dangerous, and full of people ready to knock you down, but don't worry, that's what makes it an adventure.

Book preview

Jovian

By Michael G. Long

Copyright 2018 Michael G. Long

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

Preface

There’s never enough time to explore it all. For millennia humans have looked to the stars, watched their movements, named them, and worshipped them. I believe human beings hold a deep desire to explore the far reaches of space, not only for the sake of exploration, but to discover a part of ourselves that seems to call us from those far reaches. In doing so it may help us, for better or worse, understand our place in the vastness of the universe. We, as a species, are on the cusp of reaching out into that unknown. Within the next century non terrestrial habitation and exploration could become common place. This idea has always captured my imagination. There is no telling what we may find as we began our journey beyond the confines of this planet. Life takes many forms. One thing is certain, we must move into that time with open minds and full awareness of the incredible discoveries that await us.

For my family, you know who you are. Thank you for all the support and encouragement.

1

"COMING about." The helmsman voiced over the com.

Targets spotted on deep radar, mag-imaging, and x-ray. Solo target, three kilometers in length, we got a big one!

Corbin Bishop entered the launch tube. Rather, he fitted himself to the narrow chamber like a bullet in a gun. The gauntleted hands of his dive suit slid into notches on the sides of the chamber connecting him to his Lance. He felt the apparatus engage him, locking on to his hands and arms, and coming alive with a slight vibration. The heads-up display in his helmet showed this connection as well. A new display with a diagram of the minimalistic vehicle appeared, along with its operating functions.

Though Corbin couldn’t see his hands within the structure of the Lance, he could feel the controls at his fingertips. He pulled his arms toward himself, activating the central support of the craft which unfolded from under the belly of the conical vehicle in front of him. The strut connected to the chest plate of his armored diving suit with a whirr and click that told him it was locked in place. Corbin then pushed his arms forward, positioning himself into the firing position.

The vehicle understood the movement and pulled him into a mechanical embrace. The Lance moved forward slightly in the chamber while continuing to orient itself around Corbin, binding and shifting, adding subtle connections that integrated further with his suit in a symphony of hisses and snaps, whirrs and clicks. The pilot and machine became one.

Corbin placed his feet into stirrups that extended from the body of his craft. These too acted as hard points latching Diver to machine. Once he was fully captured, the whole apparatus shifted, and Corbin was situated into a sitting position and held aloft by the interface of his diving suit and flying machine. He looked out over the nose through a protective but translucent piece of material that allowed him good visibility while shielding him from wind and atmosphere. A Diver and their Lance had to operate as a single entity to perform effectively.

Firing position in forty-five seconds, came the helmsman’s voice again, Divers, check in for launch.

"Diver zero-two-seven, ready for launch."

Diver one-four-two is set, let’s go already!

Diver one-zero-eight, confirmed for launch.

Diver zero-one-three is ready, Corbin recognized this voice, though he hadn’t heard it in years.

Diver prime zero-zero is ready for launch. Corbin said checking in last.

Well if it isn’t the man, the myth, the legend, said the familiar voice, I heard a rumor you were aboard this boat, but I thought it was just that.

Corbin smiled to himself, nope, I’m here in the flesh, he responded.

You haven’t retired yet? You should have quite the sizeable credit stash after all these years, or you should be dead by now. Is this Corbin Bishop’s ghost I’m speaking to? Diver zero-one-three harassed,

Corbin chuckled aloud, Kora you know damn well I’m never going to retire. What do you think I would do in my spare time? Read? Learn how to cook? Take up gardening?

You’d make a good a Captain. You must have enough saved by now to buy your own ship. Diver zero-one-three, or Kora, as Corbin knew her, suggested.

And miss out on the action sitting on the bridge? No thank you my dear. Corbin laughed again.

Firing position in fifteen seconds. Announced the helmsman.

Byron heard the thrum of pumps, then the hiss of air, then silence, as his launch chamber was drained of its atmosphere. His Lanced seemed to quiver with excitement as launch time approached.

It’s good to jump with you again Corbin. Kora said.

And you, he replied, Dive fast, dive deep, kill quick.

Dive fast, dive deep, kill quick, she repeated back to him.

Launch in five. The helmsman announced.

Corbin saw the remaining few digits wind down in his heads up display.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

The massive forces of acceleration that threatened to crush Corbin were just within the tolerable limits for a human being. Even with the aid of his diving suit, which doubled as a g-suit, the added gravities were nearly unbearable. The mass driver that shot out its ballistic human payloads, expended gigajoules of energy as it catapulted the five person team into the waiting vacuum, as it reached a peak load of twenty-five g’s. Thanks to his rigorous training and the force-fluid that was injected into him before each launch to protect his internal organs, his body could withstand the abuse.

The illuminated tunnel of the launch tube was a blur of speed as Corbin and his Lance continued to accelerate down its length at a constant rate. His vision tunneled and every sinew of his body strained under the extreme forces the launch imposed on him. Most Divers had their eyes and other soft tissues surgically altered to withstand the repetitive abuse of the launches alone.

The orange-brown dot that was the open end of the launch tube grew rapidly brighter and larger as Corbin shot toward his exit point. Then he was free. The g-load began to taper off as the acceleration dropped away to be replaced by constant speed. The broiling mass of the planet below him engulfed his view.

Coiling banks of clouds shifted with rapidly moving air currents. Corbin could see the enormous jet stream running like a river as it pulled along vaporous contents in a beautiful display of fluid dynamics. Opposite flowing jet streams shifted along just as quickly on either side of the band he was aiming for. Eddies spun off the edges where two ribbons of gas interacted, creating whirlpools with diameters larger than some of the small moons that orbited the planet.

Corbin hurtled forward. The limb of the Jovian world was still just visible if Corbin looked left, right, or up, as a multicolored arc splashed against the obsidian pallet of space. Mismatched bands of orange, crimson, white, and brown layered themselves with respect to latitude, like the layers of a cake made by a color blind baker. Even a peculiar ribbon of teal banded the gas giant at some upper latitude that he would not visit on this dive.

Some of the more narrow slip steams on the planet below would merge, wrap themselves together like coiling snakes, then separate in a dance of air currents. Others, over time, would tangle themselves into a knot, disrupting other flows around them, and grow into a cyclone that would last for months, and sometimes years.

Around him, in a star pattern, were his fellow Divers. Corbin was the lead. He would give orders to the team during the hunt.

Divers had relatively short lifespans most not making it to their late twenties. To say that the risk for this job was high was an understatement. It was extreme. But the reward was great. If a Diver made it to the ripe old age of twenty-five they would generally have amassed a small fortune and most likely a bit of fame.

Corbin was thirty-seven years old. No other Diver, living or deceased, had operated or survived as long. He was a living legend among his peers. With 254 dives no one had more experience than him.

And no one had been as lucky either, he often thought. Like most in this business he had started diving at the age of eighteen. It had been second nature to him since day one. He had claimed an immediate feel for navigating the turbulent atmosphere of the unforgiving Jovian worlds and possessed, what seemed like, a telepathic connection to the machine he operated. This combination made him a more than capable Diver from the start. Once he had gained some experience, he was soon one of the most skilled and sought after Divers in the federated systems.

Kora was right. He could have retired many years ago. The problem was he didn’t want to. He was addicted to the adrenaline, the rush, the danger. Most Divers were. Even those who did make it to retirement, and chose to do so, suffered from adrenaline withdrawals, stress induced mental illness, and other adrenal problems, often politely labeled as Diver’s fatigue. What it was, was addiction. Daily life was not the same when you didn’t have the high of imminent danger and near certain death to keep your brain chemistry