increasing rate. Debris from the outer rings is spiraling into the inner ones, whose orbits are gradually shrinking as well. The divisions between the rings are also narrowing, causing discrete rings to blur together much more than usual.”
Shaun wondered what this meant for their mission. “Is there any danger to the ship?”
“I shouldn’t think so. The ring matter is falling inward, toward the planet, not aiming at us, although I’m at a loss regarding what might be causing this or why it is happening now. Frankly, it’s quite unexpected . . . and more than a little baffling.”
“Told you.” Zoe gloated. “I knew there was more to that rings angle than you wanted to admit earlier.” She did a celebratory somersault in midair. “So, who is the crackpot conspiracy theorist now?”
“Watch your mouth, brat,” Fontana snarled from the copilot’s seat. “That’s a future Nobel Prize winner you’re talking to.”
“It’s all right, Alice,” O’Herlihy said. “Our guest has reason to feel vindicated . . . to a degree. These findings are a humbling reminder that we are in unknown territory out here and that the universe can still surprise us.”
Ordinarily, the scientist would have chided Zoe for letting her imagination run wild, but his response struck Shaun as uncharacteristically muted. He found that vaguely worrisome. When somebody like Marcus gave ground to Zoe, things were seriously out of whack.
“Still,” O’Herlihy continued, “I’m sure it’s just a temporary aberration, caused by the approach of the comet or some other factor. It’s bound to correct itself in time.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zoe challenged him. “That’s what they used to say about global warming. Tell that to the ice caps . . . or what’s left of them.”
Shaun scowled. Despite the scientist’s provisos, this sounded like something he needed to stay on top of. “I want daily reports on those rings from now on. Let me know if you think there’s even a chance that we might need to adjust our orbit to put more distance between ourselves and the rings.”
Their mission had been plotted and predicated on the fact that Saturn would act like Saturn, and so would its rings. He recalled O’Herlihy’s earlier description, months ago, of the rings as roiling rivers, complete with dangerous currents, eddies, and other hazards. Granted, the rings were only about half a kilometer thick on average, and the Lewis & Clark had been built to withstand random micrometeoroid strikes, but Shaun was in no hurry to ride the rapids.
“Will do,” O’Herlihy assured him. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
“I like hearing you say that, Doc.” Shaun turned his attention back to the day’s agenda. “Let’s just hope our cometary friend doesn’t surprise us, too.”
“Shh!” Zoe held a finger to her lips. “Don’t jinx us.”
“Says the jinx herself,” Fontana muttered. She kept her eye on the view out the cockpit windows. “And they used to say comets were bad luck . . .”
The comet, designated C/2018-G2, had been visible for days as a faint white smudge in the distance, but it was growing clearer as it approached them. This far out from the sun, the comet had not melted enough to give it a truly impressive tail, yet it was already recognizable as a comet. A cloud of dusty vapor, known as the coma, formed an atmosphere around the comet’s nucleus, while a misty white stream trailed behind it, pointing away from the sun, whose solar winds created the tail by blowing the ionized comet material away from it. C/2018 was extremely small by cometary standards, its nucleus barely more than a hundred meters across, yet its tail already stretched for thousands of kilometers. The comet’s path was not expected to bring it anywhere near Earth, so this was their best chance to get a good look at it.
Like most comets, it was probably just a large, dirty snowball from the outer reaches of the solar system, but who