Analog SFF, June 2011 Read Online Free

discussing it.
    Isotope dating of previous samples said Phoebe was more than four billion years old. So why did it still exist? Its desiccated, rocky crust was not that impressive as an insulator. Had it always followed the orbit in which it had been discovered, swooping inside Earth's own orbit, Phoebe's ice would have sublimated long ago, its rocky remains dispersed into a short-period meteor shower. Of course if it had always followed that orbit, the Near Earth Object survey would have spotted Phoebe years earlier. Or Phoebe would have smacked Earth before anyone even knew about death from the sky.
    So Phoebe had had another orbit, an orbit more distant from the sun. Planetary astronomers had yet to work out Phoebe's original path and what planetary close encounter might have sent Phoebe diving at the Earth. Gabe guessed there was a Nobel waiting for whoever figured it out.
    As the Earth waned and the landscape faded into darkness, he had Oscar project a topo map on his HUD. The blinking red dot had them most of the way to the green dot representing the stranded bot. Pits and ravines, ridges and rocky jumbles leapt out of the map image. He tugged his tethers once, twice for reassurance.
    "Let's stop for a minute,” Gabe called. New Earth was imminent, and Newbie was in for a treat. “Watch the limb of the planet."
    Earth's crescent became the thinnest of arcs, then disappeared.
    A pale, shimmering arch—part rainbow, part oil slick—emerged from the darkness. Phoebe's sunshield. The free-flying Mylar disk that hovered above Phoebe warded off the sunlight that might yet boil away precious ice as boots and robot tentacles and, eventually, mining operations scraped through the insulating surface layers. The shield's sun-facing side reflected most of the light that hit it. What little sunlight penetrated the shield—the bit they could see—was scattered by the backside's granular coating.
    For an endless moment the arch, large but faint, was the brightest object in the sky. Then the trailing edge of the shield, too, slid into the Earth's shadow, abandoning the sky to stars like chips of diamond.
    Now the sole clue to Earth's presence was a hole in the star field. Even with eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, from this altitude Gabe could not spot any city lights. He could pretend that all was well below, that the world was not divided between energy haves and have-nots.
    "Show's over,” Gabe said. He switched on his helmet lights. An instant later, Thad activated his own. “Pretty cool, though, don't you think?"
    Thad only grunted.
    "So, Thad. What were you making in the shop?” Gabe was just making conversation. Skimming the pitch-black rock face in the near-darkness was eerie.
    He felt a tap-tap on his calf and twisted around. Thad had only one hand on the guide cable, waggling his other hand. Two fingers were raised.
    "Oscar, private channel two,” Gabe ordered. “Okay, Thad. What's going on?"
    "Private channel two,” Thad repeated. Finally, he added, “You'll keep this to yourself, right?"
    "If that's what you want."
    Hand over hand, they went. A rim of sunshield reappeared just before the Earth returned as a new crescent. Gabe doused his helmet lights. On his HUD the red and green dots were converging. Another few minutes and they would veer from the guide cable.
    Eventually Gabe prompted, “Well?"
    "Okay. I put my life in your hands.” Thad sighed. “I have a thing for Tiny."
    Tina Lundgren was big for an astronaut, even a male astronaut. The nickname was inevitable—and you used it within her earshot at your own peril. Gabe had to admit that, in an Amazonian kind of way, she was sexy. And she was one of only two women, and the only unmarried woman, on Phoebe. Gabe understood Thad wanting this conversation on a private channel.
    Having bared his soul, Thad went on and on about Tina's womanly charms.
    "Uh-huh,” Gabe finally interrupted. “And you were cutting pipe as an outlet for your unrequited