2001_ A Space Odyssey - Arthur C. Clarke [53]
“As we suspected, the fault does not lie in the AE-35 unit, and there is no need to replace it again. The trouble lies in the prediction circuits, and we believe that it indicates a programming conflict which we can only resolve if you disconnect your Nine Thousand and switch to Earth Control Mode. You will therefore take the following steps, beginning at 2200 Ship Time — —”
The voice of Mission Control faded out. At the same moment, the Alert sounded, forming a wailing background to Hal’s “Condition Yellow! Condition Yellow!”
“What’s wrong?” called Bowman, though he had already guessed the answer.
“The AE-35 unit has failed, as I predicted.”
“Let me see the alignment display.”
For the first time since the beginning of the voyage, the picture had changed. Earth had begun to drift from the cross-wires; the radio antenna was no longer pointing toward its target.
Poole brought his fist down on the alarm cutout, and the wailing ceased. In the sudden silence that descended upon the control deck, the two men looked at each other with mingled embarrassment and concern.
“Well I’m damned,” said Bowman at last.
“So Hal was right all the time.”
“Seems that way. We’d better apologize.”
“There’s no need to do that,” interjected Hal. “Naturally, I’m not pleased that the AE-35 unit has failed, but I hope this restores your confidence in my reliability.”
“I’m sorry about this misunderstanding, Hal,” replied Bowman, rather contritely.
“Is your confidence in me fully restored?”
“Of course it is, Hal.”
“Well, that’s a relief. You know that I have the greatest possible enthusiasm for this mission.”
“I’m sure of it. Now please let me have the manual antenna control.”
“Here it is.”
Bowman did not really expect this to work, but it was worth trying. On the alignment display, Earth had now drifted completely off the screen. A few seconds later, as he juggled with the controls, it reappeared; with great difficulty, he managed to jockey it toward the central crosswires. For an instant, as the beam came into line, contact was resumed and a blurred Dr. Simonson was saying “… please notify us immediately if Circuit K King R Rob.” Then, once again, there was only the meaningless murmuring of the universe.
“I can’t hold it,” said Bowman, after several more attempts. “It’s bucking like a bronco — there seems to be a spurious control signal throwing it off.”
“Well — what do we do now?”
Poole’s question was not one that could be easily answered. They were cut off from Earth, but that in itself did not affect the safety of the ship, and he could think of many ways in which communication could be restored. If the worst came to the worst, they could jam the antenna in a fixed position and use the whole ship to aim it. That would be tricky, and a confounded nuisance when they were starting their terminal maneuvers — but it could be done, if all else failed.
He hoped that such extreme measures would not be necessary. There was still one spare AE-35 unit — and possibly a second, since they had removed the first unit before it had actually broken down. But they dared not use either of these until they had found what was wrong with the system. If a new unit was plugged in, it would probably burn out at once.
It was a commonplace situation, familiar to every householder. One does not replace a blown fuse — until one knows just why it has blown.
Chapter 25
First Man to Saturn
Frank Poole had been through the whole routine before, but he took nothing for granted — in space that was a good recipe for suicide. He made his usual thorough check of Betty and her supply of expendables; though he would be outside for no more than thirty minutes, he made sure that there was the normal twenty-four-hour supply of everything. Then he told Hal to open the airlock, and jetted out into the abyss.
The ship looked exactly as it had done on his last excursion — with one important difference. Before, the big saucer of the long-range antenna had been pointing back along the invisible