Fasten your seatbelts — and keep your helmets on
Staying safe in your interstellar adventures
One of the things that often gets me with scifi TV shows is how often spacefarers visit new planets — or new to them planets — without adequate protection. And no, I don’t mean cosmic … umbrellas.
I’m a plotter. I plan out my books before I get down to writer, but I still get surprised along the way. There’s a scene in A Lost Ship in a Deep Grave, book 2 of The Lyra Cycle, that wasn’t planned, at least how it ended up, but it’s one of my favourites. A few of the crew are investigating an uncharted planet; it’s in none of their databases. One of the crew wants to take off their helmet. I had some fun with my zoological worldbuilding as the rest of the team tell what they think of that idea.
“Stop fidgeting.” Alek turned his head towards Fennick, though half his view was cut off by the side of his helmet.
“But it’s so uncomfortable.” The young man’s gloved hand bumped the glass of his faceplate.
“It’s not about comfort.” Alek scanned the clearing where he’d landed the Lyra. There hadn’t been a lot of options. The area near the target Cass had pinpointed was covered in trees and vines and needle grass…all an unnerving crimson. But someone, or something, had use the clearing before — a trail led off one side towards the target.
“But your AI said the air is breathable.” Fennick’s helmet bobbled again.
Alek stopped and turned full-on to face the young man in time to see his nose wrinkle and his lips tug back and forth. “And did you ever think what you might be breathing in?”
Kandi stepped up on Fennick’s other side. “The eggs of Leishmann’s lung borers.” She shuddered.
“Taursa Epsilon hemorrhagic plague,” Rebeka added.
“Pilgrim’s phage.” Kandi sidled past them to take the lead, keeping her plasma rifle pointed slightly down. “Just to name a few of the diseases settlers encountered on planets with breathable air.” She glanced back, half turning. “Things that would make you wish you were dead.”
Fennick stopped fidgeting with his helmet, and his hands dropped to his sides.
Dustan patted his assistant on the back. “Buck up. It’s just a precaution. Nine times out of ten there’s nothing to worry about.” He stepped past Fennick to follow Kandi, and his assistant trailed him, shoulders slumped. “Well, maybe eight out of ten.”
Yes, exploring an unknown planet is exciting (I assume) but before you beam down to that planet, let’s dive into the alien world of extraterrestrial microorganisms … and why you should keep that helmet on.
Consider all the alien pathogens you might be introducing to a new host. Breathing the air on that uncharted world is dangerous. Heck, breathing the air on Earth can be dangerous, airborne viruses aside.
The Last of Us might not be realistic (I haven’t seen it yet but I get the gist), but did you know you can inhale parasites or their eggs? Certainly, fungus can infect us, and they can be quite serious — Valley fever and histoplasmosis for example. And let’s not forget about the animals, given our recent experience with a pandemic involving a zoonotic virus.
Speaking of zoonotic diseases, I’ve been making my way through The History of English podcast for the past few years. And, you might ask, what does English have to do with alien diseases? Well, nothing. However, it’s also about history, and the presenter talked about how *the* plague changed English society. It had huge impacts — for example, because of the number of people who died, the surviving peasants were actually able to move about more and started to earn higher wages.
And what does *that* have to do with alien diseases? Well, imagine getting bit by a giant Gillia flea … not only is the bite from its needle-like proboscis excruciatingly painful, it carries a high risk of Noxian plague, with its swollen lymph nodes, incessant itching, and bleeding eyeballs. Okay, I just made that up but you get the point — keep your helmets on, folks!