Requiem

Lacrimoso

Today will see the end in the life of a dear friend. A life in which I am proud to have played a small part. At the beginning of 2011 I moved across the Atlantic Ocean to Washington, D.C., to start a new job—working on the science team of NASA's MESSENGER mission. That move was one of the best decisions I have ever made. But later today, after more than four years in orbit around Mercury, and over 10 years in space, the mission is about to come to a very conclusive end. The spacecraft is now, well and truly, out of fuel. It will crash into the planet and it will form a new crater in the already pocked surface. But as I mourn the loss of our spacecraft, I can look back with pride and celebrate the wonderful achievements of this groundbreaking mission.

Artist's impression of the MESSENGER spacecraft in orbit around Mercury. Credit: NASA

MESSENGER—an acronym for MErcury Surface, Space ENvironment, GEochemistry, and Ranging—has been the first spacecraft to orbit Mercury, the innermost planet of our solar system. After more than four years of studying Mercury from orbit, MESSENGER has completely transformed our understanding of the planet. Back in the 1970s, Mariner 10—the only other spacecraft to have visited Mercury—made three flybys of the planet. Although Mariner 10 led to several important discoveries, substantial gaps were left in the Mercury cannon. Less than half the planet, for instance, was imaged up close by Mariner 10.

Mariner 10 image showing part of the Caloris basin (left), the largest well-preserved impact basin on Mercury. The basin has a diameter of about 1,550 km and its full extent was realized only during the MESSENGER mission. Credit: NASA

Following Mariner 10, many scientists believed that Mercury was geologically similar to the Moon, and therefore not worth an expensive and extensive follow-up mission. But a committed and insightful group of scientists and engineers, led by Principal Investigator Sean Solomon, were not so easily placated. They believed that Mercury could not be so easily dismissed and they set about making their MESSENGER dream a reality. The MESSENGER mission concept was finally accepted as the seventh of NASA's Discovery-class missions, in July 1999.

Several engineering challenges are presented in designing spacecraft to orbit Mercury. In addition to the extreme heating conditions the spacecraft must endure, the Sun's huge gravitational pull is a major issue. To enter orbit around Mercury, the spacecraft must be captured by the gravity of Mercury itself, which is tiny in comparison with that of our parent star. So the clever rocket scientists came up with a solution. Instead of sending the spacecraft on a direct course to Mercury, MESSENGER took a particularly circuitous route into the inner parts of the Solar System. To be captured by Mercury's gravity, MESSENGER's speed needed to be dramatically reduced as it approached the planet. But a body moving towards the Sun will be constantly speeding up. Of course, spacecraft thrusters (i.e., brakes) can be fired to reduce the velocity, but this requires a tremendous amount of fuel, and massively increases the weight and cost of launching the spacecraft from Earth. 

The gravity fields of the inner planets were therefore used as an alternative, natural, braking system. After MESSENGER was launched from Cape Canaveral on 3rd August 2004, the spacecraft undertook a series of 'gravity assist' flyby manoeuvres, which were designed to reduce its velocity. A year after launch, MESSENGER performed its first flyby, of Earth, on 2nd August 2005. Next up were two flybys of Venus in 2006 and 2007. Then in 2008 and 2009, MESSENGER made another three flybys, this time of Mercury itself, before it finally entered orbit on 18th March 2011.

 

The Earth, our home, as seen by MESSENGER during its gravity assist flyby on 2nd August 2005. Credit: NASA/Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory/Carnegie Institution of Washington

It is images such as this one of Earth taken by MESSENGER, that remind us of the power of comparative planetology. Even with the fantastic capabilities of remote sensing, as exemplified by MESSENGER and other planetary satellites, there are certain geological investigations that can never be achieved if you do not have physical contact with a planet. The study of Earth, and the comparison of its geological features with those we observe on Mercury (and other planets), is therefore a vital part of our planetary science investigations. But furthermore, by studying Mercury (the end-member of the Solar System), we also gain a more thorough understanding of the neighbourhood in which our Earth sits.

My role in the MESSENGER mission, was as a postdoctoral fellow at the Carnegie Institution of Washington's Department of Terrestrial Magnetism. I worked with Larry Nittler on the analysis of data from MESSENGER's X-Ray Spectrometer (XRS), through which we are able to learn about the geochemical makeup of the planet's surface. In our first MESSENGER XRS paper, we analyzed data from the first three months of the orbital mission. These data provided the first glimpse of Mercury's major element composition, and showed us that Mercury's surface is not as like the Moon (or typical parts of the Earth's crust) as had previously been thought. 

Maps of magnesium/silicon and thermal neutron absorption across Mercury's surface, as measured with MESSENGER's X-ray and Gamma-Ray Spectrometers. Credit: NASA/Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory/Carnegie Institution of Washington

It is these geochemical findings that allow theories of Mercury's formation to be constrained. In particular, scientists have long puzzled over the reason for Mercury's particularly high density (i.e., it has a disproportionately large core). Some scientists believe that the outer (and less dense) parts of Mercury were obliterated during a huge impact event early in the planet's history. The MESSENGER geochemistry results, from the XRS and the Gamma-Ray Spectrometer, however, have revealed that Mercury is not depleted in a group of chemical elements known as volatiles. These elements (including sulfur, sodium, and chlorine) should be lost (evaporated) during the heating that would have been associated with such a massive impact event.

It is more likely, think other geologists, that the major-element composition of Mercury is much more indicative of the original materials which accreted to form the planet. Perhaps those original materials had distinctive compositions, unlike the materials that built the other planets in the Solar System. In that original Science paper, we proposed materials akin to enstatite chondrite meteorites as the potential building blocks of Mercury. The jury is still out on what those precursor materials may have been. And in all likelihood, those materials may no longer exist and may not be present in our meteorite collection. But by studying Mercury in depth for the first time with MESSENGER, we have learned about the full diversity of the Solar System.

So this postcard isn't about sending a single rock from Earth to the alien planetary geologists. It is about the much bigger picture. For those aliens to really understand our wonderful home, they need to see Earth in the context of its planetary brothers and sisters. By sending spacecraft to visit Mercury, Venus, Mars, as well as the outer planets and moons of the Solar System, we are building up a panoramic postcard of our whole family.

Thank you MESSENGER for playing your part perfectly in that endeavour. You served us well and you will be missed.

The Earth and Moon, taken from the MESSENGER spacecraft at Mercury. The Earth is the bright object in the bottom-left of the image. The Moon is the smaller and fainter spot to its right. Credit: NASA/Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory/Carnegie Institution of Washington

Finis

This time, it's quantity that counts

If we were to rank all the minerals within Earth by their abundance, and use that ranking to pick a candidate for our interplanetary adventure, then we would have an easy winner. This mineral—which makes up about 38% of the Earth's volume—is thought to be the most abundant on our planet. It has been known for some time that this silicate mineral—(Mg,Fe)SiO₃—has what is known as an orthorhombic ABO₃ perovskite structure. Until very recently, however, it did not actually have a name. But now, based on work described in a new study published a few weeks ago in Science, the first detailed characterization of this long-known mineral phase has been conducted, and the mineral has finally been named.

The 'ABO₃ perovskite structure'.  Credit: T. Imai et al./NTT Photonics Laboratories

Through the study of seismic waves, i.e., the energy generated by earthquakes, scientists can learn about Earth's interior structure. At certain depths—known as discontinuities—below the planet's surface the propagation of these waves changes abruptly. It is these changes in seismic wave velocity that help us build up a picture of the Earth's innards, in which a solid inner core, a liquid outer core, the lower mantle, and the upper mantle lie beneath the crust.

Interior structure of the Earth, showing the dominant mineral species in each layer.
Credit: P. Huey/Science

As I discussed in a previous postcard, getting samples from deep within the Earth is not easy. Such materials normally take the form of diamonds or xenoliths, and tend to come from the upper mantle. But most material from the lower mantle—the region where our previously elusive mineral resides—does not survive the trip to the Earth's surface, and is therefore not readily accessible for geologic study. A combination of very high-pressure experiments, thermodynamic calculations, and first-principle modelling studies are therefore required to discern the major mineral constituents in each of these unreachable layers.

Official mineral names are approved by the International Mineralogical Association. But to suggest a name for a mineral through these official channels, its structure must be characterised from a naturally occurring sample. And this is the reason why our abundant mineral from the lower mantle has remained nameless for so long. In the absence of a suitable sample, researchers have been unable to conduct the required structural characterizations and therefore no name could be assigned. 

But in the recently published work by Oliver Tschauner (University of Nevada, Las Vegas) and colleagues, a meteorite sample (Tenham) has come to the mineralogical nomenclature rescue. The authors have studied part of this chondrite, which fell and was then recovered from a remote part of western Queensland, Australia, in 1879. During a brief impact event, the parent body (i.e., an asteroid) of this meteorite experienced a period of very high pressures (more than 25 GPa) and temperatures (about 2500 K). These conditions are comparable to those in parts of Earth's deep interior. During this impact, some material melted and formed so-called shock veins. It is within these veins that Tschauner et al., found clasts of the 'missing' mineral to study.

Having found the required sample they next undertook a series of synchroton micro-X-ray diffraction and electron probe microanalysis measurements to definitively determine the mineral's crystal structure and composition. Their results were sufficient to meet the stringent requirements of the International Mineralogical Association, and the authors were finally able to propose a name for Earth's most abundant mineral. The name they settled on—bridgmanite—was chosen to honour the Nobel Prize laureate Percy W. Bridgman (1882–1961). His serendipitous machinery malfunction led to pioneering work in the field of high-pressure experiments, which paved the way for the field of modern-day mineral physics and our understanding of Earth's interior.

Percy W. Bridgman. Credit: Smithsonian Institution

The Tenham meteorite—together with the newly named bridgmanite it contains—is yet another example of a geologic specimen I am choosing for our cosmological journey, which is not quite of the Earth. But with a hefty 38% of the mineralogical vote, brigmanite is a serious contender that cannot be ignored. So until we devise a way to get a terrestrial sample of Earth's most abundant mineral from the lower mantle itself, this meteorite will just have to do.

A thin section from the Tenham meteorite, from which newly-named bridgmanite was identified and characterized. Credit: Chi Ma

Impacting young minds

I've been quiet on the blogging front recently, but I've been pretty busy behind the scenes. This has included engaging in what I see as one of the most important (and fun) parts of my job as a research scientist: outreach.

One of my close friends teaches first grade at Somerset Elementary School in Montgomery County, MD, and she arranged for me to be one of the speakers at their recent Careers Day. I found myself sharing a stage with people from a host of different professions and careers. There was a salad dressing maker, an events organizer, an investment banker, an advisor to President Obama... and me—the planetary geologist.

I was given three 20-minute slots to speak to students who had chosen to hear what I had to say about space. And I was happily surprised that many of these children were eager to ask all kinds of questions. I was even more impressed that some of their more knowledgeable (or geeky) peers were able to step in and proffer answers of their own.

I used my time to show a PowerPoint presentation (full of fun images of space, volcanoes, and such) that I had put together for the occasion, and to let the children have an interactive experience with the MESSENGER postcard mosaic. This 'game' is a great way for kids (and adults) to learn about different features on Mercury and to think about how planetary scientists map the entire surface of another planet.

Fun images depicting aspects of planetary geology.
Credits: Alexander Belousov, Earth Observatory of Singapore, NASA, NASA/Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory/Carnegie Institution of Washington

I also took some rock samples to pass around, including an example of each of the three different types of meteorites: a stony meteorite, an iron meteorite, and a stony-iron meteorite. It is these kinds of rocks that help us understand the interior structure of rocky planets. They come from proto-planets or asteroids that were at some point blasted apart. Before their violent demise, however, these bodies experienced similar evolutionary processes to the planets of our solar system that we know and love. Stony meteorites (in this case represented by an ordinary chondrite) are the equivalent of the exterior crusts of planets.

An ordinary chondrite (about 7 cm across) that was found in Romania. Ordinary chondrites are the most common type of meteorite found on Earth. Credit: ASU/CMS

Iron meteorites—consisting almost entirely of iron and nickel—represent the dense cores of planets, and the stony-irons (or pallasites) come from the boundary between the rocky outer layers of a planetary body and the metal-rich core, known as the core-mantle boundary.

Example of a pallasite (Springwater). These beautiful meteorites contain orange grains of the mineral olivine within a matrix of shiny iron-nickel. Credit: KD Meteorites

The iron meteorite that I had available was a one of a group of samples known as Canyon Diablo. These are the small pieces that remain after their much larger (about 50 m in diameter) parent chunk of space debris smashed into Earth about 50,000 years ago and created the Barringer Meteorite (aka Meteor) crater in Arizona (click here for a 3D-flyover of the crater). This well-preserved impact crater is just over 1 km in diameter and continues to be a site of scientific investigations.

A single piece (a few centimeters across) of the remaining Canyon Diablo meteorite.
Credit: Meteorites Australia

Back in the 1950s isotopic analyses on samples of this meteorite group were used to refine the estimate of Earth's age. Radiometric dating has revealed that many different solar system materials have concordant ages, which we use to provide Earth's age. The estimate given by Claire Paterson in 1956 (4.55 ± 0.07 billion years), based on the Canyon Diablo meteorite is very close to the current estimate of 4.54 ± 0.05 billion years. I propose, therefore, that we send one of these iron meteorite pieces forth for our imaginary alien planetary geologists to discover. Afterall, what piece of information about our home planet and our home solar system is more fundamental than its age?

I'm not sure society has the need for all of the 50+ children I met at Somerset to one day become planetary geologists. But I do hope that at least a handful of them will translate their wonder and joy for things space-related to future careers in a science-focused field. I'm proud to play a very small role in shaping the next generation of civil engineers, meteorologists, and brain surgeons of this world.

A thank-you note from one satisfied customer.