Artemis I Has A Stowaway - Day 15
November 30th, 2022
How hungry do you need to be to take a 1% chance of getting cancer in return for some chocolate bars? I’d left my Skor bars back at my cot, and the thought of wading through a sea of deadly radiation to get them has kept me hungry. Well, NASA’s also been perfectly clear that I’m to sit exactly where I am no matter what.
Thus, I’ve also peed my pants. Three times. You know what they don’t have onboard Artemis I? A washing machine, or a wardrobe. I’m going to be stuck with these clothes for the rest of the mission.
NASA’s been trying to figure out the source of this radiation storm to get a handle on when it might pass, but when it comes to space weather, they’re in the dark.
Anyways with the radiation sensor exposed to the full power of the storm I can watch its progress. Since yesterday it’s done nothing but go up. 650,000 𝝻Sv/hr with the “little numbers” changing so fast I can’t read them.
I am back in touch with NASA though. They very helpfully let me know that, if not for the water tank radiation shield, I would be in fatal doses of radiation within hours territory, and yet I don’t see anything around me reacting. You could forget it was happening if not for this tingling on your teeth like they’re dirty. Then again, my teeth are dirty, I hadn’t thought to bring a tooth brush.
There’s some house keeping work that NASA is handling. The Orion’s orbit around the moon is causing some fluctuations in orientation that NASA’s had to updated the flight controls to handle. The computer freeze resulted in a few missed correction burns that they’ve been trying to figure out how to make up for. They’re upset I used so much fuel figuring out where the radiation came from. Blah, blah, blah. Mark straight up told me they still have more than enough fuel to get me home - so this is all just worrying for nothing.
They claim to be busy. I’m just sitting, without even a book to read or a gage to be checked.
The other thing is that I asked NASA a question this morning, and they haven’t answered.
“Hey guys, just how strong can this storm get before my water-tank radiation shield won’t be enough?”
“We’re doing the math on that now Alex. Let you know just as soon as we can,” Mark said.
Then silence. As though I forgot. As though that isn’t the only thing on my mind. Well, I guess they accomplished that, now I’m also thinking about why they aren’t answering.
They did tell me to change up my little radiation vest fort, taking off the one I was wearing and using it as a headrest. That’s a nice thought, that the water tank isn’t giving me enough protection on its own to shield my brain.
Assuming I don’t just die of this, I’m starting to think I’m definitely going to get cancer.
You know the worst part about cancer? The hope. If you just told me I had 6 months before I’d need constant care, and after 1 years I’d be dead, then I’d make the six months count.
I’d party it up like crazy, then I’d go off into the woods with a spear and have a fight with a grizzly bear. I’d want to arrive at heaven and have God say, “dude, why would you have done that?!”
By the way, Jess hated that idea.
With cancer you’ve got that hope. Treatments, experimental drugs, surgeries, five year survival rates with double digit percentages. But really, almost always, you’re actually talking about spending the last months, and years, of your life thinking about nothing but your health, always sick and feeling terrible, and getting more and more worn down until one day you just… stop.
I know this is a personal thing, and honestly to each their own, I don’t judge. But I spent my whole life hoping for long shots to pay off. That I’d be an astronaut, go into space, maybe even be the first person on Mars or something amazing like that. I’m sick of hope. So fuck cancer.
Anyways, frequently asked questions about using your drinking water as a radiation shield: if the water is absorbing the radiation, won’t it get radioactive? I got a lot of days left in this mission and drinking water is non-negotiable.
Welcome to radiation shields 101 with your host: the guy who’s logicing this shit out right now. So first of all, “radiation”, in the common usage, is really just a catchall term for a whole bunch of different “particles” that can damage human cells.
Uranium isn’t radiation - uranium gives off radiation. There are all different types of radiation but as one example gamma rays, and x-rays, are just light, regular photons like what come out of a flashlight - just at different frequencies. ‘But light doesn’t damage things!’ ah but it does given time and intensity. Haven’t you seen a piece of paper that’s left in the sun get yellowed over time? Well imagine that’s your DNA. Turns out as you change the frequency of light you also change how well it can penetrate materials and the damage it does to DNA. Steel, which is totally opaque to the visible light spectrum, is like glass to x-rays.
In the case of gamma rays or x-rays the photons hit the water molecules shed their energy into heat and are gone. So the water isn’t radioactive, it is just warmer. If you shine a flashlight onto a swimming pool it won’t charge up and start to glow when you shut off the light, so if you shine x-rays onto the pool it won’t start glowing back x-rays. And yes, for you overly eager students in the front row, the water will start to glow but in the harmless infrared spectrum.
But there are other kinds of radiation as well that involve protons or other subatomic particles. Again though, it isn’t about those particles simple existence, it’s about their speed. You bump them into something and get rid of that speed and they become inert.
So, the way I see it, a radiation shield should work by putting atoms between me and the radiation source. The particles of radiation cascade in, hit the atoms of the shield, and lose their energy going from deadly radiation to harmless slow moving particles. My water stays safe to drink, and I don’t get cancer.
Riddle me this though: why is the water in a nuclear reactor radioactive? The uranium is encased, so what’s getting into the water that is radioactive? I remember something about neutron flux from a documentary… But I can’t remember the details. I ask NASA, they promise to get back to me.
Regardless, by inference this all means that blocking radiation is a % thing. For such and such a thickness of water X% of the particles that make up the radiation should pass through, missing the water’s atoms, and then hit my two radiation blocking vests on the chair, and the two panels of the vest I’m now using as a head-rest.
When I was messing about with the Orion’s orientation to try and figure out where the radiation was coming from, the radiation sensor basically dropped down to zero. Say 99% radiation blocking. The vests, specially designed for this, figure they’re 60% shields, each panel. And there are 4 panels between my chest and the radiation source. So, 0.4, 0.24, 0.142, 0.0852%. That means I’m blocking 99.9148% of the radiation.
That sounds pretty darn good, until you consider how small and pathetic us humans are compared to the grandeur of the universe. 650,000 𝝻Sv/hr is what the radiation sensor is reading, so call it about 580 𝝻Sv/hr that’s getting through the shield. The alarm triggered at 130 𝝻Sv/hr. Fantastic. Just fantastic.
I bet a real astronaut would be sitting here and just thinking heroic, stoic, thoughts. They wouldn’t be imagining dying in a hospital bed from radiation poisoning or wondering how getting fired from NASA affects their health insurance. How long do you have after you get fired to sign up for COBRA? And, by the way, what's with that name? That's like naming a program to feed the homeless FAMINE. Where do you even find a bear?
A real astronaut would just be quietly sitting here, maybe looking out the window at the unmoving pinprick stars and thinking about their training or the mission.
They’d probably be thinking that this cloud of radiation is from two black holes slamming into one another, and even after traveling for millions of years, it is still strong enough to kill us puny humans.
I’m hungry, my underwear is wet and clammy, and all I can think about is what a frail, pathetic, stupid, idiot I am.
Seriously, my biggest accomplishment in life was basically figuring out how to do a magic trick where I swapped out the dummy Moonikin for the bigger dummy ‘the amazing radioactive Alex!’
I’m not very good company today.
***
I’m Nathan H. Green, a science-fiction writer with a degree in aerospace engineering, and I’m going to be doing daily semi-fictional stories tracking the Artemis I mission. You can follow along through my reddit (u/authornathanhgreen).
Artemis I Has A Stowaway is a work of semi-fiction. All incidents, events, dialogue and sentiments (which are not part of the mission’s official history), are entirely fictional. Where real historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, sentiments, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events, personality, disposition, or attitudes of the real person, nor to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. Save the above, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
© 2022 Nathan H. Green
How hungry do you need to be to take a 1% chance of getting cancer in return for some chocolate bars? I’d left my Skor bars back at my cot, and the thought of wading through a sea of deadly radiation to get them has kept me hungry. Well, NASA’s also been perfectly clear that I’m to sit exactly where I am no matter what.
Thus, I’ve also peed my pants. Three times. You know what they don’t have onboard Artemis I? A washing machine, or a wardrobe. I’m going to be stuck with these clothes for the rest of the mission.
NASA’s been trying to figure out the source of this radiation storm to get a handle on when it might pass, but when it comes to space weather, they’re in the dark.
Anyways with the radiation sensor exposed to the full power of the storm I can watch its progress. Since yesterday it’s done nothing but go up. 650,000 𝝻Sv/hr with the “little numbers” changing so fast I can’t read them.
I am back in touch with NASA though. They very helpfully let me know that, if not for the water tank radiation shield, I would be in fatal doses of radiation within hours territory, and yet I don’t see anything around me reacting. You could forget it was happening if not for this tingling on your teeth like they’re dirty. Then again, my teeth are dirty, I hadn’t thought to bring a tooth brush.
There’s some house keeping work that NASA is handling. The Orion’s orbit around the moon is causing some fluctuations in orientation that NASA’s had to updated the flight controls to handle. The computer freeze resulted in a few missed correction burns that they’ve been trying to figure out how to make up for. They’re upset I used so much fuel figuring out where the radiation came from. Blah, blah, blah. Mark straight up told me they still have more than enough fuel to get me home - so this is all just worrying for nothing.
They claim to be busy. I’m just sitting, without even a book to read or a gage to be checked.
The other thing is that I asked NASA a question this morning, and they haven’t answered.
“Hey guys, just how strong can this storm get before my water-tank radiation shield won’t be enough?”
“We’re doing the math on that now Alex. Let you know just as soon as we can,” Mark said.
Then silence. As though I forgot. As though that isn’t the only thing on my mind. Well, I guess they accomplished that, now I’m also thinking about why they aren’t answering.
They did tell me to change up my little radiation vest fort, taking off the one I was wearing and using it as a headrest. That’s a nice thought, that the water tank isn’t giving me enough protection on its own to shield my brain.
Assuming I don’t just die of this, I’m starting to think I’m definitely going to get cancer.
You know the worst part about cancer? The hope. If you just told me I had 6 months before I’d need constant care, and after 1 years I’d be dead, then I’d make the six months count.
I’d party it up like crazy, then I’d go off into the woods with a spear and have a fight with a grizzly bear. I’d want to arrive at heaven and have God say, “dude, why would you have done that?!”
By the way, Jess hated that idea.
With cancer you’ve got that hope. Treatments, experimental drugs, surgeries, five year survival rates with double digit percentages. But really, almost always, you’re actually talking about spending the last months, and years, of your life thinking about nothing but your health, always sick and feeling terrible, and getting more and more worn down until one day you just… stop.
I know this is a personal thing, and honestly to each their own, I don’t judge. But I spent my whole life hoping for long shots to pay off. That I’d be an astronaut, go into space, maybe even be the first person on Mars or something amazing like that. I’m sick of hope. So fuck cancer.
Anyways, frequently asked questions about using your drinking water as a radiation shield: if the water is absorbing the radiation, won’t it get radioactive? I got a lot of days left in this mission and drinking water is non-negotiable.
Welcome to radiation shields 101 with your host: the guy who’s logicing this shit out right now. So first of all, “radiation”, in the common usage, is really just a catchall term for a whole bunch of different “particles” that can damage human cells.
Uranium isn’t radiation - uranium gives off radiation. There are all different types of radiation but as one example gamma rays, and x-rays, are just light, regular photons like what come out of a flashlight - just at different frequencies. ‘But light doesn’t damage things!’ ah but it does given time and intensity. Haven’t you seen a piece of paper that’s left in the sun get yellowed over time? Well imagine that’s your DNA. Turns out as you change the frequency of light you also change how well it can penetrate materials and the damage it does to DNA. Steel, which is totally opaque to the visible light spectrum, is like glass to x-rays.
In the case of gamma rays or x-rays the photons hit the water molecules shed their energy into heat and are gone. So the water isn’t radioactive, it is just warmer. If you shine a flashlight onto a swimming pool it won’t charge up and start to glow when you shut off the light, so if you shine x-rays onto the pool it won’t start glowing back x-rays. And yes, for you overly eager students in the front row, the water will start to glow but in the harmless infrared spectrum.
But there are other kinds of radiation as well that involve protons or other subatomic particles. Again though, it isn’t about those particles simple existence, it’s about their speed. You bump them into something and get rid of that speed and they become inert.
So, the way I see it, a radiation shield should work by putting atoms between me and the radiation source. The particles of radiation cascade in, hit the atoms of the shield, and lose their energy going from deadly radiation to harmless slow moving particles. My water stays safe to drink, and I don’t get cancer.
Riddle me this though: why is the water in a nuclear reactor radioactive? The uranium is encased, so what’s getting into the water that is radioactive? I remember something about neutron flux from a documentary… But I can’t remember the details. I ask NASA, they promise to get back to me.
Regardless, by inference this all means that blocking radiation is a % thing. For such and such a thickness of water X% of the particles that make up the radiation should pass through, missing the water’s atoms, and then hit my two radiation blocking vests on the chair, and the two panels of the vest I’m now using as a head-rest.
When I was messing about with the Orion’s orientation to try and figure out where the radiation was coming from, the radiation sensor basically dropped down to zero. Say 99% radiation blocking. The vests, specially designed for this, figure they’re 60% shields, each panel. And there are 4 panels between my chest and the radiation source. So, 0.4, 0.24, 0.142, 0.0852%. That means I’m blocking 99.9148% of the radiation.
That sounds pretty darn good, until you consider how small and pathetic us humans are compared to the grandeur of the universe. 650,000 𝝻Sv/hr is what the radiation sensor is reading, so call it about 580 𝝻Sv/hr that’s getting through the shield. The alarm triggered at 130 𝝻Sv/hr. Fantastic. Just fantastic.
I bet a real astronaut would be sitting here and just thinking heroic, stoic, thoughts. They wouldn’t be imagining dying in a hospital bed from radiation poisoning or wondering how getting fired from NASA affects their health insurance. How long do you have after you get fired to sign up for COBRA? And, by the way, what's with that name? That's like naming a program to feed the homeless FAMINE. Where do you even find a bear?
A real astronaut would just be quietly sitting here, maybe looking out the window at the unmoving pinprick stars and thinking about their training or the mission.
They’d probably be thinking that this cloud of radiation is from two black holes slamming into one another, and even after traveling for millions of years, it is still strong enough to kill us puny humans.
I’m hungry, my underwear is wet and clammy, and all I can think about is what a frail, pathetic, stupid, idiot I am.
Seriously, my biggest accomplishment in life was basically figuring out how to do a magic trick where I swapped out the dummy Moonikin for the bigger dummy ‘the amazing radioactive Alex!’
I’m not very good company today.
***
I’m Nathan H. Green, a science-fiction writer with a degree in aerospace engineering, and I’m going to be doing daily semi-fictional stories tracking the Artemis I mission. You can follow along through my reddit (u/authornathanhgreen).
Artemis I Has A Stowaway is a work of semi-fiction. All incidents, events, dialogue and sentiments (which are not part of the mission’s official history), are entirely fictional. Where real historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, sentiments, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events, personality, disposition, or attitudes of the real person, nor to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. Save the above, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
© 2022 Nathan H. Green
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