Descending Road - SHOTGUN WOMAN by Dana W. Paxson

SHOTGUN WOMAN

2386 CE

The tiny Korean lady unrolled her digital sheets onto the tabletop, and Gene bent over them, holding down one corner to help keep the sheets from rolling up again. He couldn’t remember her name, and he was too embarrassed to ask, so he just listened while she explained the drawings.

“This is observatory ship,” the woman said, stabbing a finger at a long thin sticklike object. “This is also telescope and antenna and processing and power unit. It is most reliable.”

Gene squinted and rubbed his eyes. The design was longer and thinner than the space telescopes he knew. The netsession with his computing group had exhausted him, and he hadn’t had time to eat. The annotations on the sheet looked like Korean or Chinese — they were too complicated for the new Sinese syllabic signs. He couldn’t make head or tail of them.

“How big is this ship?” he asked, trying to focus. He needed the Oort Cloud survey telescope information for the Senate meeting tomorrow, and Hau Ren had sent him this little lady.

She looked up at his hairdo with wide eyes, and he realized he must have presented a rather fearsome image, with dreadlocks and the heavy jacket Chanie had made for him. He backed up a little and smiled gently, and the woman raised both hands about a third of a meter apart. The corner of the digital sheets she had been holding rolled up against Gene‘s hand with a snap.

“That big,” she said.

“What?” He looked closely; her hands were almost exactly a foot apart.

“Not manned. We will make thousands of them for you. You can send them everywhere, fast.”

“Wait. You are telling me that you want to send unmanned probes to the Oort Cloud as observatories for stellar study? But we’ll need big telescopes, not little ones.”

“A thousand of these little ones make one big telescope, two light years across. You can read alien newspaper at another star with these little ones.”

“I don’t know.” Gene stood up straight. “It takes a long time to get out there.” Questions boiled into his mind. This was very-long-baseline interferometry with a vengeance. The paper from his design team came to mind: VLBI In Visible Light: A Feasibility Study. Had the Sinese teams picked it up? They must have.

“Not so long,” she said. “Mag-rail launchers. We put your scopes in Oort Cloud in twelve years.”

Twelve years! The Cloud was over a light-year out, on average. Gene‘s inner calculator spun, clicked. “You’re telling me you can get thirty thousand kilometers per second on these little things, and then decelerate them at the end of the trip?”

She smiled and nodded twice.

“How much do they weigh?”

“Forty grams.”

“And they do everything I asked for?”

“Oh, yes. More too.” She unrolled the digital sheets again, and flicked her fingers across a corner. The drawing of the ship activated and began to change. “When ship arrives at Cloud, it opens up both tubes.” A pair of parallel cylinders were now distinct, long and thin, and a gossamer veil-like sheet began unfolding from one end of the tubes. “Molecule-thick antenna for home link.” The veil, rimmed and permeated by slightly-thicker reinforcement veins, expanded beyond the edges of the sheet. A stalk began to rise out of the center of the veil where it met the tubes. “Makes semi-soft antenna one kilometer wide.”

“Where’s the telescope?” Gene was amazed; they’d gotten all this done in a matter of days, from nothing more than his requirements list.

“Two telescopes.” The two tubes were now of different diameters. They swiveled with respect to the veil antenna until they pointed in parallel off the sheet. “You can’t see on picture, but tubes inflate to full telescope size, a few molecules thick, five meters long, one or two meters in diameter. Self-aligning films. Mirror better than original Hubble. One scope does UV, other one IR and visible light, switchable. Not so small, huh? Processors in skin of scopes, all multiplexed, thin-film organics.”

“And the power?” Gene was totally absorbed, his weariness just a weight in the background, towed by his exhilaration.

“Fusion. Hau Ren secret.” She let the sheets roll back up again. “How’s it look?”

“It’s amazing. It’s great.” Gene waved his hand in the air. “But how much will it cost?”

“You talk to Kim Dae-Ji about that,” the little woman said. “I gotta go. More work on this.”

“What is your name?” Gene asked. “I am sorry, but I missed hearing it when-“

“Don’t worry. You just call me Shotgun Woman.” She turned to leave, looked back at him, and winked. “Everybody calls me that. I left copy of shotgun data on your system. If you’ve got questions, call me. Read data first.”

“Goodbye, Shotgun Woman,” Gene chuckled. “Thanks for the information.” He turned back, said, “System, display shotgun data.” As the diagrams boiled to the table surface, he shook his head, scanning, estimating, marveling. Things just couldn’t keep going this well.

As usual, they didn’t.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	SHOTGUN WOMAN 2386 CE The tiny Korean lady unrolled her digital sheets onto the tabletop, and Gene bent over them, holding down one corner to help keep the sheets from rolling up again. He couldn’t remember her name, and he was too embarrassed to ask, so he just listened while she explained the drawings. “This is observatory ship,” the woman said, stabbing a finger at a long thin sticklike object. “This is also telescope and antenna and processing and power unit. It is most reliable.” Gene squinted and rubbed his eyes. The design was longer and thinner than the space telescopes he knew. The netsession with his computing group had exhausted him, and he hadn’t had time to eat. The annotations on the sheet looked like Korean or Chinese — they were too complicated for the new Sinese syllabic signs. He couldn’t make head or tail of them. “How big is this ship?” he asked, trying to focus. He needed the Oort Cloud survey telescope information for the Senate meeting tomorrow, and Hau Ren had sent him this little lady. She looked up at his hairdo with wide eyes, and he realized he must have presented a rather fearsome image, with dreadlocks and the heavy jacket Chanie had made for him. He backed up a little and smiled gently, and the woman raised both hands about a third of a meter apart. The corner of the digital sheets she had been holding rolled up against Gene‘s hand with a snap. “That big,” she said. “What?” He looked closely; her hands were almost exactly a foot apart. “Not manned. We will make thousands of them for you. You can send them everywhere, fast.” “Wait. You are telling me that you want to send unmanned probes to the Oort Cloud as observatories for stellar study? But we’ll need big telescopes, not little ones.” “A thousand of these little ones make one big telescope, two light years across. You can read alien newspaper at another star with these little ones.” “I don’t know.” Gene stood up straight. “It takes a long time to get out there.” Questions boiled into his mind. This was very-long-baseline interferometry with a vengeance. The paper from his design team came to mind: VLBI In Visible Light: A Feasibility Study. Had the Sinese teams picked it up? They must have. “Not so long,” she said. “Mag-rail launchers. We put your scopes in Oort Cloud in twelve years.” Twelve years! The Cloud was over a light-year out, on average. Gene‘s inner calculator spun, clicked. “You’re telling me you can get thirty thousand kilometers per second on these little things, and then decelerate them at the end of the trip?” She smiled and nodded twice. “How much do they weigh?” “Forty grams.” “And they do everything I asked for?” “Oh, yes. More too.” She unrolled the digital sheets again, and flicked her fingers across a corner. The drawing of the ship activated and began to change. “When ship arrives at Cloud, it opens up both tubes.” A pair of parallel cylinders were now distinct, long and thin, and a gossamer veil-like sheet began unfolding from one end of the tubes. “Molecule-thick antenna for home link.” The veil, rimmed and permeated by slightly-thicker reinforcement veins, expanded beyond the edges of the sheet. A stalk began to rise out of the center of the veil where it met the tubes. “Makes semi-soft antenna one kilometer wide.” “Where’s the telescope?” Gene was amazed; they’d gotten all this done in a matter of days, from nothing more than his requirements list. “Two telescopes.” The two tubes were now of different diameters. They swiveled with respect to the veil antenna until they pointed in parallel off the sheet. “You can’t see on picture, but tubes inflate to full telescope size, a few molecules thick, five meters long, one or two meters in diameter. Self-aligning films. Mirror better than original Hubble. One scope does UV, other one IR and visible light, switchable. Not so small, huh? Processors in skin of scopes, all multiplexed, thin-film organics.” “And the power?” Gene was totally absorbed, his weariness just a weight in the background, towed by his exhilaration. “Fusion. Hau Ren secret.” She let the sheets roll back up again. “How’s it look?” “It’s amazing. It’s great.” Gene waved his hand in the air. “But how much will it cost?” “You talk to Kim Dae-Ji about that,” the little woman said. “I gotta go. More work on this.” “What is your name?” Gene asked. “I am sorry, but I missed hearing it when-“ “Don’t worry. You just call me Shotgun Woman.” She turned to leave, looked back at him, and winked. “Everybody calls me that. I left copy of shotgun data on your system. If you’ve got questions, call me. Read data first.” “Goodbye, Shotgun Woman,” Gene chuckled. “Thanks for the information.” He turned back, said, “System, display shotgun data.” As the diagrams boiled to the table surface, he shook his head, scanning, estimating, marveling. Things just couldn’t keep going this well. As usual, they didn’t.