Memories: The Anomaly
Days had passed, yet the Anomaly, as they’d begun to call it, stubbornly refused to give up its secrets.
“Are you sure about the spectral data?” Jack had asked. “We ought to be able to see something. We can’t be orbiting nothing.”
“That appears to be precisely what we are doing.”
Daisy could be maddeningly literal. “That’s not funny. You’ve tried out humor on me before, but that ain’t it.”
“I am merely being specific. Whatever mass exists at the Anomaly’s barycenter, it is neither emitting nor reflecting any energy across the electromagnetic spectrum.”
“Let’s back up, then. Maybe we’re looking for the wrong thing here. Astronomers found enough evidence of a gravity well to create a rough-order approximation of mass and period, all based on how it perturbed the orbits of other objects. They assumed it was a planet.”
“A reasonable assumption, given the available evidence.”
“But no one ever observed it,” he said, continuing his thought. “It was too far away, and with too low an albedo to see using Earth-based scopes. The best hope of finding it would be catching the occasional pass in front of a background star. We were looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.”
“By that construct, it was more like looking for the shadow of a needle in a haystack.”
“Nice turn of phrase, Daisy. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ve found the ‘shadow,’ as you put it. So if our assumption of a planet was wrong, then we have to consider what else it could be. What about the core of a dead star? Is it possible our Sun was once part of a binary system?”
“It is so unlikely as to be impossible. The type of stellar core you describe would have to have come from a burned-out main sequence star. It is doubtful one could have gone through its full life cycle in such proximity to Sol without fatally irradiating Earth’s biosphere—”
“I get it,” he said impatiently, then caught himself. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Your frustration is understandable. And it is impossible to offend me.”
Yet he figured he’d find a way; it seemed to be his nature. “I almost think you really do understand. But back to what you were saying—you still haven’t been able to detect any radiation from whatever that is?” Even a brown dwarf would generate heat.
“Negative. The Anomaly itself is transparent.”
His mind was a jumble. Too much information, too many sensory inputs to process. “Okay, let’s review. We have a gravity field consistent with an object of about ten Earth masses, proven by our own orbit. It’s not in the visible spectrum and it’s not emitting so much as a random X-ray.” Despite the broad-based science training he’d received as an astronaut, these were questions best left to a professional astronomer. He’d have to rely on his current understanding to digest the enormous catalogue of knowledge housed in Daisy’s electronic brain. “What do you think?”
“It has detectable mass, yet it does not interact with electromagnetic forces. It does not absorb, emit, or reflect light. Its presence can only be inferred through its effect on other objects. I believe we have discovered a concentration of dark matter.”
“That’s what I’m thinking too,” he admitted, “and I’m a little freaked out by it.” They were still far away in a loosely bound orbit, just enough for the Anomaly’s gravity to capture Magellan as it decelerated into its influence. Yet they needed a better look. “I’m not comfortable taking us in close. Too many unknowns, and we need to conserve propellant. What’s the MSEV’s status?”
“I have initiated the automated checkout sequence. A full report on spacecraft health will be available in twelve minutes.”
“Good girl. You read my mind.”
“That has become an easier proposition of late.”
“You’re still not funny.”