A Visitor to the Future - 133 - The Factory
We journeyed through several green passageways with ladders to reach our next destination, using the rungs to pull ourselves along in the no-gravity environment. Passing through two airlocks into a blue zone, we were then confronted by a much larger and bulkier airlock surrounded by storage lockers. Two round portholes were placed at either side of it, granting a view into the space beyond.
"This is the Factory," said Gatecrash, gesturing to one of the portholes, "The ship's industrial section. Have a look!"
Looking through the window, I saw a large hangar-like space which was lined with racks of equipment of unknown purpose, large storage tanks, wires and conduits that ran from one section to another and a large exterior door which ran the length of the space. Rails ran along the sides of the space, allowing large manipulator arms and other equipment I didn't recognize to move around and freely access the whatever they needed.
I wondered aloud, "It doesn't look very human-friendly in there. I can't see a floor or handholds."
"You're right!" confirmed Gatecrash, "The Factory is kept in a state of vacuum and is not typically something we'd need to access. It's essentially a huge chemistry lab and engineering workshop, filled with raw materials to fabricate anything we'd need for maintaining the ship. As the ship takes wear and tear, drones will travel through the hangar door - there - and head to where they're needed. There are also recycling facilities so that ruined equipment can be returned here, broken down and rebuilt."
I looked into the room again, the quiet and dark space devoid of activity for the moment. I resolved to come back and see the equipment at work.
"Would I be right in guessing that most outer system ships have Factories like this?" I asked.
"Yes, being able to repair the ship on the fly is more than worth the extra weight." Gatecrash pointed at the airlock, "Without a Factory, damage to key components couldn't be repaired outside of a dry dock - well, not without relying on time-consuming manual repairs anyway. A well-equipped and configured Factory can extend the lifespan of any ship significantly. Plus, having the ability to construct components you didn't anticipate when designing the ship whenever you want - that's invaluable. The only limit is what materials you brought with you and your power supplies. Though that's not a hard limit - you could bring mining equipment along if you liked the idea of true self-sufficiency."
"Is there anything the Factory can't do?" I asked.
Gatecrash nodded, "The ship's superstructure is the true limitation of any long-life outer system vessel. Eventually the stresses of daily travel and use weaken it to a point where its use is dangerous. The best thing you could do when that happens is return to a dry dock and build a new ship. Or, if you're really patient and have a suitable Factory setup with enough materials and energy, you could try and recycle your ship yourself."
"That's an option?" I said, curious.
Gatecrash pointed over my shoulder at the fabricator arms and drone docking ports. "The equipment used in the Factory here are just smaller and less efficient versions of the fabricators in the various dry docks throughout the system. Assembling the Boiling Point in Earth orbit took about three months. If you had a couple of years instead, you could break down your current ship and build a new one from its components using your own Factory. There are diminishing returns unless you've got a source of raw materials though - and it's not possible without sufficient energy."
The idea of taking a multi-year break in a space journey to build an entirely new ship seemed pretty imposing to me. Though if you lived in space full-time, I could see how it might work. "How would that work, practically speaking? Where would you live while your ship got recycled?"
"There are three main options, should you decide to do that," Gatecrash explained, counting them off on one hand and floating in mid-air for a moment, lazily rotating clockwise, "First, you could build temporary accomodation and live there while the work is done. Second, you could separate the Forefort of your ship and leave recycling it until last. The third option is to enter stasis - either cryocontainment or CI hibernation - until the work is complete. The last one isn't really that appealing, but it has one significant advantage in that you're no longer dedicating resources to your daily activities. As a result it is much faster."
I winced. The idea of re-entering cryocontainment, especially if I had to rely only on the Consortium to awake me after the work was done, did not appeal to me. Gatecrash noticed my expression.
"Yeah, that's pretty much how I feel about it too. I think you'd have to be a hardcore Kesslerite to even consider it - and even then, it might not be a viable option for those who are really out there in the void. Like I said earlier, the largest problem here is energy. The further away you get from Sol, the less effective solar power becomes, there's less coverage from the Consortium's power network, and you're obviously using up your ship's fuel and reactor reserves daily. As you can imagine, recycling an entire ship takes a lot of energy! In my view it's easier to design your ships to be as long-lived as possible and just make your way to a dry dock when you have to. There are even a couple of deep-space dry docks for that purpose."
I briefly thought about what it must take to supply a dry dock in deep space. I remembered at one time being amazed at how the Consortium managed to restock all the various cafés, restaurants and even kitchens on Earth. I supposed that restocking a dry dock in deep space was a similar exercise on a much larger and industrial scale.
"Of course, what I said only applies to ships because of the weight and distance considerations - Anode could probably tell you a lot more about where that balance lies," Gatecrash continued, "I do know that for many zero-gravity habitats the rebuilding process is also of cultural significance - some habitats formally celebrate the recycling process as a sort of rebirth. They also tend to have much larger Factory setups, so the process is far quicker too."
I nodded and made a mental note to ask about this when we visited the Abnormals.
With the Factory thoroughly explained, we continued our tour, stopping by the ship's other points of interest. The zero-gravity communal area in the Forefort reminded me very much of a house built inside-out, with various pieces of equipment attached to the inside of the cube-like space instead of on floors. There were even workdesks which came away from the walls entirely, so you could float in a seated position - something I definitely wanted to try. I was happy to see that there was also a small Contact wall in mounted at one side - I'd really enjoyed the game on the Promise of Sol and hoped my skills hadn't become too rusty.
The gravity ring was the next stop, the spinning section of the ship generating spin gravity within it for when the ship wasn't accelerating. It also contained the kitchen and sleeping quarters for the ship's human occupants - even with zero-gravity modifications both of those activities were far easier - and familiar - in artificial gravity.
As we entered my sleeping quarters, however, there was a strange and surreal moment of déjà vu.
"Uh..." I said, looking around the space.
"Hah, that's how Sarkona said you'd react!" said Gatecrash.
Gatecrash and Sarkona had conspired to make my sleeping quarters a near carbon copy of my bedroom on Earth - everything from my bed to my bookcase was similar. I looked in the set of drawers to find familiar bedsheets and clothes. The only difference was the astounding view from the window and the slight curvature of the floor.
I looked back to Gatecrash, who was grinning, "We wanted to make sure you were comfortable, and this seemed like the easiest way to do it. Of course, you can always redecorate if you'd like something different."
I smiled, having overcome the initial shock, "Thank you, that was thoughtful. This will be perfect."
With the tour complete I began to put my thoughts toward the journey ahead. It would be the longest trip I had ever undertaken, but I was in interesting surroundings, with good friends. As I glanced over at my replicated bookshelf, I realized I wouldn't be lacking entertainment either. I laughed aloud to myself, realizing that my feelings of excitement had recently been buried by nervousness. Now that I was getting settled in, the excitement was building once more.