Jupiter’s Jewels

By Angela Acosta   

Jupiter’s ferocious lightning crystalized into a hail of carbon and gas raining down on the spaceship that hovered as close to the thick atmosphere as it could manage. Sweat pooled around Alma’s goggles and dripped onto her console as the ship shuddered, nearly buckling under the Jovian pressure. Nothing would make this planet habitable, but the calculations still mattered. She determined the optimal depth for the methane gas to react with Jupiter’s high-pressure lightning, squinting at the carbon data. Eyes closed, she held her breath as the inevitable conclusion appeared. Deep enough, diamonds would fall like rain.

Exodus Industries was paying Alma Acevedo good money to get Maverick Stephenson, son of the CEO, close to Jupiter’s noxious atmosphere for a chance at harvesting the precious jewels. If the mission went well, it would certainly start a boon in diamond sales systemwide and a steep rise in tourism to the gas giant. Alma grunted at the thought, reminding herself that Exodus Industries would compensate her generously for her hard work. She turned the dials, her hands almost trembling as the loud thunderclaps reverberated throughout the craft. Every ten minutes, they descended another half a meter into the thick clouds. Forgoing nonessential breaks, Alma’s primary objective was to keep the ship upright during the ten-hour mission—until they were free from the planet’s gravity.

At the sound of boots clinking on the metal stairs, Alma turned to see Maverick in his spacesuit, descending toward the airlock connected to the small excursion spacecraft. He whistled a popular Martian tune as he fumbled with the safety devices on his suit. What was he doing now when they were scheduled to depart soon? The company’s golden boy had a reputation for obstructing seasoned researchers.

“I’ll just be taking the Diluvian out for a spin,” Maverick said over the comms as he exited the airlock and boarded the vehicle.

“We’ve already collected the required three kilos of samples,” Alma protested.

“Need to get deeper into the atmosphere to get the really concentrated diamonds.”

“We don’t have enough crew members for deeper extravehicular activity past twenty bars of pressure. You’d need a copilot to stay upright for this EVA.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make this worth your while. Besides, I’m strong enough to hold the Diluvian steady.”

The heavy airlock door thudded with finality.

“Sure would be nice if you got stationed on one of the Kuiper Belt research teams,” he continued over comms. “With this payload, I could make that happen—get that paperwork expedited for you.”

Alma dug her fingernails into her palms and began adjusting the telemetry between the spaceship and the Diluvian. She hated how he made sure she knew who was really in control of this mission.

“I’m as eager to collect larger samples as you are, but you’d best stay within a ten-meter radius of the ship,” Alma replied, initiating the exit protocol. She turned toward a monitor feeding data from previous EVAs. It’s true that deeper atmospheric data would be valuable. If anyone was going to do something risky with a skeleton crew and unlimited research funding, it was Maverick Stephenson.

Right after he’d launched, another crack of lightning whipped both ships. She’d feel better once they decoupled from Jupiter’s gravity and were on their way to the Kuiper Belt. This close to a gas giant, radar rarely worked.

Five minutes later, Alma could barely make out the Diluvian as Maverick extended the small arm on the craft, nimbly scooping up clumpy gas clouds and diamonds. After repeating the process three times, the arm retracted. She began the reentry protocol and disinfectant procedures for Maverick’s bounty. Twenty meters from the spaceship, the Diluvian lurched downward, deeper into the porous mass of Jupiter’s endless storm.

“Alma, bring me in!” Maverick blared over the comms. “I’m dropping into the atmosphere. Get me out of here!”

He bobbed around like a sailboat, trying to overcome the heavy surf of planetary pressure and gasses. But the Diluvian couldn’t climb out and Alma had no tether to pull.

“If I’m not back inside in ten minutes, I’ll sue—” Communication cut out. There were no redundant backups for planetary EVAs, and Alma hoped Maverick could manage the thrust of the craft by himself to escape the atmospheric chokehold.

“I told him this would be a two-person job,” Alma muttered.

Alma felt a headache welling up in her sinuses, taunting her with the very accident her training taught her to avoid. Maverick was being swept to sea, diamonds trailing from his ship.

Wiping her brow with a towel, Alma shuddered as reality hit. She’d lost the golden boy of Exodus Industries, and the only other member of her crew. Still, it wouldn’t matter. Some poor researchers fresh out of graduate school earthside would be next up to man the spaceship before Exodus Industries announced the construction of a more permanent station.

His death could be billed as an unfortunate accident, but tourists would still want to come to Jupiter. In fact, Maverick would become part of spacer lore and she would be nothing more than a historical footnote. That’s if she didn’t get sued by his father.

In the final minutes before launch, Alma looked out at the noxious gas clouds and powered on the console responsible for their diamond samples. She readied her engines and typed out to mission control at Exodus Industries: “Status Update: Crew member fatality. Diamonds nonexistent.”

Then, with a deep inhale, she released their entire payload back into the atmosphere. Diamonds would rain down on Jupiter once more.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Angela Acosta (she/her) is a bilingual Latina poet and scholar with a passion for the distant future and possible now. Her science fiction writing has appeared in 365Tomorrows, MacroMicroCosm, Radon, and Eye to the Telescope. She is currently completing her Ph.D. in Iberian Studies at The Ohio State University and resides in Columbus, Ohio.

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