Jupiter Project by Gregory Benford Read Free Book Online Page B

down in that ammonia atmosphere. I guess it’s natural for the rest of us—the ones who don’t work in Atmospheric Studies—to wonder, too.”
    “There isn’t any answer, no matter what people like Bohles think,” Yuri said, jutting out his jaw.
    “Okay,” I said, “give us a hard one.”
    “I would like to hear about it,” Jenny said, turning on a brilliant smile.
    So Yuri launched into a song and dance about the incredible hardships his group worked under, and how his father in BioTech was shouldering a staggering, superhuman work load—well, that was the implication, anyway. He gave us a lot of facts and figures to go with it, and those were interesting stuff, the straight scoop. As I listened it dawned on me that Yuri was going to be stiff competition for a staff position in the Lab. Commander Aarons and the others were going to be weighing him against me…
    I focused my attention back on the conversation. Yuri was describing their latest descent, the one that malfunctioned from pressure overload.
    “Meaning, it got squeezed to death,” Zak put in.
    “—before it could report on its experiments to find life. But the package of instruments did show that deep in the methane and ammonia there is water and it is warm, as warm as this room is now. All the conditions necessary for life are satisfied.”
    “Then why haven’t you found any?” Jenny asked innocently.
    Yuri pressed his lips together. “We don’t know.”
    “Yuri, you help put together the rockets that drop instrument packages into Jupiter. It’s not your fault if they don’t turn up anything.” Jenny said comfortingly.
    “Right,” Zak murmured.
    “What puzzles me is that your probes go deeper and deeper, until the pressure crushes them, and they still don’t find any living matter. No airborne spores, no bacteria, nothing,” I said.
    “We’ll find some. Bohles,” Yuri said, with a sudden flash of anger. “Just give me elbow room. You will see results.” And with that he got up and left the room.
    “Well, all this outdoorsy stuff didn’t calm him down any,” Zak said. “So much for the healing effects of bird songs.”
    “Yeah,” I murmured, “he was going along fine for a while there, I guess we just reminded him of his problems and he covered up his worries by getting mad at us.”
    “Pretty deep analysis, doctor,” Zak said.
    “Go on, you two,” Jenny said. She got up and palmed the room lights down, and then left.
    “I cast off for Ganymede tomorrow,” I said, “should do me good to get away from Yuri.”
    “You can count me in as well,” Zak said.
    “You’re going?”
    “I don’t much want to, but the psych people say I should,” Zak shrugged.
    We watched Jenny walk down the corridor and out of sight. Skirts are even more impractical in low gravity than they are on Earth—harder to keep from creeping up, for one thing—so everybody wears pants. But there’s no way to disguise a woman when she wants to be noticed, and Jenny departing was far more pleasant and interesting a view than the fake countryside of the meeting room.
    “I think she’s a little miffed that her peacemaker attempt between you and Yuri fell flat. She’ll be okay by tonight.”
    “Sure. See you at 1900 hours? Got to go practice my guitar.”
    1900 hours meant a small party at Ishi’s apartment. Ishi’s parents maintain as much of the traditional Japanese life as they can, living 390 million miles from Nippon. They sit cross-legged on the floor, on tatami mats, and have delicately shaded woodblock prints on their walls. In the air hangs a faint background smell of rice and the salt tang of fish. It all blends together into a warm feeling of home.
    Zak, Jenny, and I sat in Buddha position and took part in the ancient tea ceremony, exchanging small talk with Ishi and his parents. (My back ached, but I like the mild green tea.) Ishi didn’t seem bothered by the speculation over sending us Earthside. But then, nothing ever seems to