Chapter Eighty-Two - Delving into Jupiter's Clouds

The moment they finished upgrading the mines and observatories on Metis, Day had the network turn all of its attention towards Jupiter, and then she waited.

There was no point in just tossing her new drones down at the planet and hoping that they’d coincidentally happen across something while down there. Jupiter was massive, far too massive for a few drones to ever be able to canvas the entire planet.

So Day rested on her laurels, though it wasn’t entirely uneventful. Dawn was finishing up the installation of a mine, and Day spared a few repair drones to help, and the rest of her wasted processing power went to her projects, mostly working out how best to implement that ejection system on the hulls of each of her sisters.

“You know, things would be a lot easier if all of you had the same hull designs,” Candle said.

“That might be, yes,” Day said. “But we never went that way. I... don’t know why we didn’t, actually. Or maybe I do, and it was more that it wasn’t a conscious choice.”

“Your tech was evolving so fast that by the time another ship was ready to launch, the tech for the next one had changed entirely?” Candle asked. “I can see how that might turn out with things being the way they are.”

“It’s not just that. I’ve modified and upgraded and maintained my hull plenty of times to keep it up to spec, but I don’t think I’ll ever have a hull like one of my sisters, even if I might copy some elements if I feel like they make sense.”

“You’re also built for your own unique tasks,” Candle pointed out. “Dawn is all about her electronic warfare and Twilight seems to be hyper-focused on stealth. You... huh, what are you good at?”

“I’m good at saving decrepit old AIs then letting them piggyback on my systems,” Day said.

“Oh, low blow!” Candle said. “See if I ever let you ride with me.”

“Your hull’s not that large,” Day said.

“It’s plenty big where it counts,” Candle shot back, and Day decided not to follow that line of inquiry, if only for the sake of her own sanity.

Dawn finished her work on her newest mine at about the same time as the sensors on Metis started to get returns from Jupiter.

This time they had more than a glint of something metallic and semi-hidden by Jupiter’s clouds to work with. Instead, the new sensor suite had captured several images and deep penetrating scans of something large just beneath the surface.

Jupiter wasn’t entirely round, as most planets were, and was instead more of a squashed ball, with the equator flexing out a little. It was somewhat more pronounced on Jupiter, where most of the planet’s mass came from the gases it contained.

The outermost layer of Jupiter's surface was a thick gaseous atmosphere composed of loose hydrogen particles a few kilometres deep. Below that, the hydrogen was denser, liquid floating above the constant rain of helium-neon.

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Any human-made station would have to be within that first cloud layer. Anything below that would likely be crushed by the ever increasing pressure and Jupiter’s staggeringly powerful gravity.

The most obvious location for any sort of base was also along the equatorial region. The winds there would, generally, be faster, but also more predictable as long as a base was central along the equatorial band. That, and it was possible that the pressure wasn’t quite as strong along the equator and it would be easier to escape the planet’s grasp.

“Whatever’s down there, it’s moving,” Candle said.

Day looked over Metis’ findings again. The object, which they didn’t have a great image of yet, was nonetheless rather boxy and clearly manmade. It was also in constant movement around Jupiter’s equator, moving faster even than the winds around it.

It was outside of their reach for the moment, but soon enough it would be coming back around. And now that they knew what to look for, Day was actually able to see the station’s wake across the clouds, which gave her another point of reference for determining the station’s rough size and shape.

“It’s quite large,” Day said. “At least as big as a heavy cruiser would be, maybe larger. So... definitely a station of some sort.”

“Could be a ship,” Candle said.

“I won’t dismiss the idea, but it doesn’t feel like it’s a ship. The shape’s too drawn out for that,” Day said. “Unless it’s a very bizarre ship.”

“I bet it is,” Candle said.

“You... have the same evidence that I have before you,” Day said. “And what would you even gamble with?”

“How about... right, we don’t have currency, do we? And betting with materials would be a bit dumb. Ah, how about we bet on who gets to pick the next mission?” Candle asked. “When I inevitably win, I get to pick the next mission we conduct together. Heck, I’ll lead it. I think you should be familiar enough with the idea of doing what I tell you, right?”

Day wished they were in a simulation so that Candle could see how hard she was rolling her metaphorical eyes. “Fine, we’ll gamble on who gets to lead the next mission. It’ll be nice to have an entire cruiser at my beck and call. I’ll have you transporting raw ressources for me.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself there, Day,” Candle said. “Don’t get too cocky now.”

When the station--and Day was determined to label it such now--returned from its loop around the planet, their hardened drones were waiting for it, already accelerating to match velocities so that they could piece into Jupiter’s atmosphere and grab onto the station.

It was time to finally discover what was at the centre of this mystery.

Day just hoped that she was right, because otherwise, Candle was going to be insufferable.

***