A dive into the atmosphere on an infinity-shaped ship feels different than a usual trip through atmosphere. The ride is often bumpy in the thicker atmosphere of a planet like Ius Prime.
But Madreperla’s atmosphere is relatively thin. Even in a badly designed ship, the trip would seem easier than a trip into Ius Prime.
“In most ships,” said Lieutenant Commander Wiley Crawford, who spent years aboard the Gabriella before she was decommissioned, “the trip through atmosphere is theoretical, unless you’re watching it from one of the view decks.”
On the view decks, the pristine vision from orbit turns into a haze of light and fire. If the ship is diving fast enough, that light appears as lines of brightness before it completely engulfs the ship. Once the ship actually enters the atmosphere, then the light changes again, becoming less intense.
If you’re on the bridge, or monitoring the systems, you will see none of that. Instead, the heat shields will deploy. External temperature readings will rise, and the ship—any ship—will compensate.
An infinity ship, like the Gabriella, will float for a few minutes as the main engines shut down and the landing engines deploy. When Lieutenant Commander Wiley served on the Gabriella, the bridge was quiet most of the time, so he noticed the background hum. It would change with the change of the engines.
The hum would stop—at which point he realized he had even been hearing it, because it had become one of those noises his brain routinely ignored. The silence would seem almost palpable. Then, a few seconds later, the smaller engines would activate. They didn’t hum; they had a high-pitched whine Wiley found annoying. That whine grew more intense as the ship plunged into atmosphere or used the engines as thrusters.
It’s impossible to know how the crew of Ferguson’s Gabriella experiences entry into the atmosphere. Some, those without duties during landing, probably do crowd into the view decks, which line the edges of the ovals on the infinity design.
Most of the crew, however, are probably working. They will make a mental note of the shift in the noise inside the bridge, or the loss of the natural shudder that the larger engines make. They might notice the float. And they will know, from their equipment if nothing else, when the smaller engines activate.
Because Madreperla’s atmosphere is thin, the trip through it is relatively short, and probably not as dramatic as entering thicker atmosphere, like that around Ius Prime.
And the Decker reported that the Gabriella’s descent seemed both rapid and abrupt. One moment it was orbiting Madreperla, and the next it was plunging toward Nájar Crater.
The readings received by W&D confirm that. Trips through atmosphere are usually rapid to prevent strain on whatever engine is being used. The trip that the Gabriella took was faster than recommended in those conditions.
“Giles hated transitions,” Imelda told me. “He always had my team research the best way from one place to another. When that concerned entering atmosphere, he wanted it over quickly. I always had the sense it made him nervous.”
The trip toward Nájar Crater should make him nervous. It’s the most dangerous trip he ever takes, at least according to the records remaining of his career.
He has to have known that. He has to have prepared for it.
Because he is not the kind of man who ignores the difficulties he faces.
He embraces them instead.