Commentary: Space Probe Makes Science Fiction Wonders of Childhood Real

January 25, 2005

 By LAWRENCE M. KRAUSS


A small probe stranded on a far-away and hostile world
operates for two precious hours at a temperature of 300
degrees below zero Fahrenheit, desperately transmitting
information to its mother ship before that spacecraft
disappears below the horizon, leaving the small explorer
alone on the spongy ground of its new alien home, slowly
losing power and slated to eternally rest on a frozen moon
750 million miles from Earth.

I could be accused of anthropomorphizing, but the plight of
the small Cassini-Huygens probe resting by a
hydrocarbon-coated ice and methane plain on Saturn's
largest moon, Titan, captured my imagination far more than
anything the astronauts in the International Space Station
might be doing now.

What really did it for me was the orange sky. It showed
with striking clarity that the science fiction wonders that
I dreamed of as a child are being revealed by our unmanned
space probes in a way that is both more enthralling and
informative than anything likely to come from spending all
of NASA's funds on a few more astronauts on the Moon, or,
eventually, Mars.

I admit to having already been hooked on Internet images
like those from Martian Rovers on a planet that that looks
suspiciously like a smoggy sunset seen from Los Angeles.
But until now, the worlds that were stunningly brought to
my desktop were closer to what I might see exploring an
earthly desert than to those exotic places that had so
captured my imagination as a child reading science fiction
stories, or looking at artists' renderings of imaginary
planetary surfaces.

But there, as I clicked on the Cassini-Huygens probe Web
site, the dark pebbles of dirty hydrocarbon-coated ice on
the surface of Titan jumped out through an orange glow of
an atmosphere unlike anything I had ever seen.

I was instead reminded of old science fiction stories. On
the Web I found a recent example of the kind of thing I
used to savor. This was an award-winning short story, "Slow
Life" by Michael Swanwick, about human explorers seeking
life on Titan.

"People talked a lot about the 'murky orange atmosphere' of
Titan, but your eyes adjusted. Turn up the gain on your
helmet, and the white mountains of ice were dazzling! The
methane streams carved cryptic runes into the heights.
Then, at the tholin-line, white turned to a rich palette of
oranges, reds and yellows."

So the water-ice is dirtier and the surface darker. But the
landscape of Titan is eerily similar to the one Mr.
Swanwick imagined so vividly. Except that the truth is even
stranger and more entrancing than his fiction.

I learned from a news conference carried out on Friday by
the Cassini-Hugyens probe science team that there is
evidence of active volcanoes on Titan's surface based on
argon 40 in the atmosphere. But these do not spew molten
lava. Instead, like the ones I concocted with my childhood
chemistry set, these release flumes of water and ammonia.

There are indeed clouds and methane and hydrocarbon
rainstorms, but the reality of a turbulent atmosphere of
methane winds was brought home to me in a way that no
writing could. With brilliant foresight, the Huygens
science includes a microphone on the probe. As it fell
through the clouds, beginning about 100 miles above the
surface, I could listen as well as see the approaching
surface as the craft sent out a stream of photos during its
descent. Sitting at my computer in the middle of the night,
listening to gusts of alien winds on a remote moon of
Saturn was both eerie and moving.

I consider myself fortunate to be living at a time when
humans are as close as they may ever come to seeing such a
truly alien world with methane slush and new colors in the
sky. That is probably what drew me to science in the first
place. While literature has the power to lift us from the
tedium of everyday existence, science at its best has the
power to transport us to totally different worlds, both
literal and metaphorical, to take us where our imaginations
may never have otherwise traveled.

In two short hours, one small unmanned probe changed my
direct experience of our solar system in ways that I never
imagined. Now I am craving for more such highs. Perhaps I
will witness further probes that may dive into distant
alien seas underneath frozen moons. Perhaps one will send
home clear evidence of alien life existing or extinct.

Realistically, however, the future is likely to be one of
cutbacks and shortfalls, with billions of dollars headed to
protect populations that we put in jeopardy, or build
costly missile defenses against nonexistent threats. One
can only hope that there is enough imagination left in
government to allow us to keep supporting the missions that
do the science that can really change the way we think
about our place in the universe.

To boldly go where no one has gone before in ways that only
unmanned spacecraft can do will cost so little in
comparison that such an effort shouldn't interfere with the
current priority of allowing astronauts to have new
adventures on the Moon.

It is significant in this regard that the Huygens probe was
a product of the European Space Agency, working in concert
with NASA and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. This not only
demonstrates that Europe is now a leading player in space
exploration, but it shows that for grand human projects,
like the exploration of our universe or the exploration of
space and time on fundamental scales, we can and need to
work together on a global scale.

This is one of the side benefits of the scientific
enterprise. But even more than this, the universe continues
to surprise us in ways we can never anticipate. Ultimately
it is far more interesting than anything that science
fiction writers or artists may imagine. Life may imitate
art, but ultimately it transcends it. Which is why we
sometimes need to turn to the universe itself for
inspiration.

Dr. Lawrence M. Krauss is the director of the Center for
Education and Research in Cosmology and Astrophysics at
Case Western Reserve University. His most recent book was
"Atom."



http://www.nytimes.com/2005/01/25/science/space/25titan.html?ex=1107667839&ei=1&en=1511701133346b7b


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