CAPE CANAVERAL, Fla. (AP) — A NASA spacecraft has set sail for Jupiter and its moon Europa, one of the best bets for finding life beyond Earth.
Europa Clipper will peer beneath the moon’s icy crust where an ocean is thought to be sloshing fairly close to the surface. It won’t search for life, but rather determine whether conditions there could support it. Another mission would be needed to flush out any microorganisms lurking there.
“It’s a chance for us to explore not a world that might have been habitable billions of years ago, but a world that might be habitable today — right now,” said program scientist Curt Niebur.
Its massive solar panels make Clipper the biggest craft built by NASA to investigate another planet. It will take 5 1/2 years to reach Jupiter and will sneak within 16 miles (25 kilometers) of Europa's surface — considerably closer than any other spacecraft.
Clipper lifted off Monday aboard SpaceX’s Falcon Heavy rocket from NASA’s Kennedy Space Center. Mission cost: $5.2 billion.
One of Jupiter’s 95 known moons, Europa is almost the size of our own moon. It's encased in an ice sheet estimated to be 10 miles to 15 miles or more (15 kilometers to 24 kilometers) thick. Scientists believe this frozen crust hides an ocean that could be 80 miles (120 kilometers) or more deep. The Hubble Space Telescope has spotted what appear to be geysers erupting from the surface. Discovered by Galileo in 1610, Europa is one of the four so-called Galilean moons of Jupiter, along with Ganymede, Io and Callisto.
What type of life might Europa harbor? Besides water, organic compounds are needed for life as we know it, plus an energy source. In Europa’s case that could be thermal vents on the ocean floor. Deputy project scientist Bonnie Buratti imagines any life would be primitive like the bacterial life that originated in Earth’s deep ocean vents. “We will not know from this mission because we can’t see that deep,” she said. Unlike missions to Mars where habitability is one of many questions, Clipper’s sole job is to establish whether the moon could support life in its ocean or possibly in any pockets of water in the ice.
When its solar wings and antennas are unfurled, Clipper is about the size of a basketball court — more than 100 feet (30 meters) end to end — and weighs nearly 13,000 pounds (6,000 kilograms). The supersized solar panels are needed because of Jupiter’s distance from the sun. The main body — about the size of a camper — is packed with nine science instruments, including radar that will penetrate the ice, cameras that will map virtually the entire moon and tools to tease out the contents of Europa’s surface and tenuous atmosphere. The name hearkens to the swift sailing ships of centuries past.
The roundabout trip to Jupiter will span 1.8 billion miles (3 billion kilometers). For extra oomph, the spacecraft will swing past Mars early next year and then Earth in late 2026. It arrives at Jupiter in 2030 and begins science work the next year. While orbiting Jupiter, it will cross paths with Europa 49 times. The mission ends in 2034 with a planned crash into Ganymede — Jupiter’s biggest moon and the solar system's too.
There’s more radiation around Jupiter than anywhere else in our solar system, besides the sun. Europa passes through Jupiter’s bands of radiation as it orbits the gas giant, making it especially menacing for spacecraft. That’s why Clipper’s electronics are inside a vault with dense aluminum and zinc walls. All this radiation would nix any life on Europa’s surface. But it could break down water molecules and, perhaps, release oxygen all the way down into the ocean that could possibly fuel sea life.
Earlier this year, NASA was in a panic that the spacecraft's many transistors might not withstand the intense radiation. But after months of analysis, engineers concluded the mission could proceed as planned.
NASA’s twin Pioneer spacecraft and then two Voyagers swept past Jupiter in the 1970s. The Voyagers provided the first detailed photos of Europa but from quite a distance. NASA’s Galileo spacecraft had repeated flybys of the moon during the 1990s, passing as close as 124 miles (200 kilometers). Still in action around Jupiter, NASA’s Juno spacecraft has added to Europa’s photo album. Arriving at Jupiter a year after Clipper will be the European Space Agency’s Juice spacecraft, launched last year.
Like Europa, Jupiter’s jumbo moon Ganymede is thought to host an underground ocean. But its frozen shell is much thicker — possibly 100 miles (160 kilometers) thick — making it tougher to probe the environment below. Callisto’s ice sheet may be even thicker, possibly hiding an ocean. Saturn’s moon Enceladus has geysers shooting up, but it’s much farther than Jupiter. Ditto for Saturn’s moon Titan, also suspected of having a subterranean sea. While no ocean worlds have been confirmed beyond our solar system, scientists believe they’re out there — and may even be relatively common.
Like many robotic explorers before it, Clipper bears messages from Earth. Attached to the electronics vault is a triangular metal plate. On one side is a design labeled “water words” with representations of the word for water in 104 languages. On the opposite side: a poem about the moon by U.S. poet laureate Ada Limon and a silicon chip containing the names of 2.6 million people who signed up to vicariously ride along.
The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute’s Science and Educational Media Group. The AP is solely responsible for all content.
This illustration provided by NASA depicts the Europa Clipper spacecraft above the surface of the moon Europa, foreground, and Jupiter behind. (NASA/JPL-Caltech via AP)
This illustration provided by NASA depicts the Europa Clipper spacecraft over the moon, Europa, with Jupiter at background left. (NASA/JPL-Caltech via AP)
BEIRUT (AP) — Curled up in his father ’s lap, clinging to his chest, Hussein Mikdad cried his heart out. The 4-year-old kicked his doctor with his intact foot and pushed him away with the arm that was not in a cast. “My Dad! My Dad!" Hussein said. "Make him leave me alone!” With eyes tearing up in relief and pain, the father reassured his son and pulled him closer.
Hussein and his father, Hassan, are the only survivors of their family after an Israeli airstrike last month on their Beirut neighborhood. The strike killed 18 people, including his mother, three siblings and six relatives.
“Can he now shower?” the father asked the doctor.
Ten days after surgery, doctors examining Hussein's wounds said the boy is healing properly. He has rods in his fractured right thigh and stitches that assembled his torn tendons back in place on the right arm. The pain has subsided, and Hussein should be able to walk again in two months — albeit with a lingering limp.
A prognosis for Hussein's invisible wounds is much harder to give. He is back in diapers and has begun wetting his bed. He hardly speaks and has not said a word about his mother, two sisters and brother.
“The trauma is not just on the muscular skeletal aspect. But he is also mentally hurt,” Imad Nahle, one of Hussein’s orthopedic surgeons, said.
Israel said, without elaborating, that the strike on the Mikdad neighborhood struck a Hezbollah target. In the war that has escalated since September, Israeli airstrikes have increasingly hit residential areas around Lebanon. Israel accuses the Lebanese militant group of hiding its capabilities and fighters among civilians. It vows to cripple Hezbollah, which began firing into northern Israel after Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack triggered the war in Gaza.
But children have been caught in the midst.
With more strikes on homes and in residential areas, doctors are seeing more children affected by the violence. More than 100 children have been killed in Lebanon in the past six weeks and hundreds injured. And of the 14,000 wounded since last year, around 10% are children. Many have been left with severed limbs, burned bodies, and broken families — scars that could last for a lifetime.
Ghassan Abu Sittah, a renowned British-Palestinian surgeon who is also treating Hussein, sees that long road ahead. This is his worry: “It leaves us with a generation of physically wounded children, children who are psychologically and emotionally wounded."
At the American University of Beirut Medical Center, which is receiving limited cases of war casualties, Nahle said he operated on five children in the past five weeks — up from no cases before. Most were referred from south and eastern Lebanon.
A few miles away, at the Lebanese Hospital Geitaoui, one of the country’s largest burns centers increased its capacity by nearly 180% since September so it could accommodate more war wounded, its medical director Naji Abirached said. About a fifth of the newly admitted patients are children.
In one of the burn center’s ICU units lies Ivana Skakye. She turned 2 in the hospital ward last week. Ivana has been healing from burns she sustained following an Israeli airstrike outside their home in southern Lebanon on Sept. 23. Israel launched hundreds of airstrikes that day in different parts of Lebanon, making it the deadliest day of the war so far. More than 500 people were killed.
Six weeks later, the tiny Ivana remains wrapped in white gauze from head to toe except her torso. She sustained third-degree burns over 40 percent of her body. Her hair and head, her left side all the way to her legs, both her arms and her chest were burned. Her family home was damaged, its ceiling set afire. The family’s valuables, packed in their car as they prepared to leave, were also torched. Ivana’s older sister, Rahaf, 7, has recovered faster from burns to her face and hands.
Fatima Zayoun, their mother, was in the kitchen when the explosion hit. Zayoun jumped up to grab the girls, who were playing on the terrace.
It was, Zayoun said, "as if something lifted me up so that I can grab my kids. I have no idea how I managed to pull them in and throw them out of the window. She spoke from the ICU burns unit. “They were not on fire, but they were burned. Black ash covered them. ... (Ivana) was without any hair. I told myself, `That is not her.'”
Now, Ivana's wound dressings are changed every two days. Her doctor, Ziad Sleiman, said she could be discharged in a few days. She’s back again to saying “Mama” and “Bye — shorthand for wanting to go out.
Like Hussein, though, Ivana has no home to return to. Her parents fear collective shelters could cause an infection to return.
After seeing her kids “sizzling on the floor,” Zayoun, 35, said that even if their home is repaired, she wouldn’t want to return. “I saw death with my own eyes,” she said.
Zayoun was 17 last time Israel and Hezbollah were at war, in 2006. Displaced with her family then, she said she almost enjoyed the experience, riding out of their village in a truck full of their belongings, mixing with new people, learning new things. They returned home when the war was over.
“But this war is hard. They are hitting everywhere,” she said. “What do they want from us? Do they want to hurt our children? We are not what they are looking for."
Abu Sittah, the reconstructive surgeon, said most of the children's injuries are from blasts or collapsing rubble. That attack on a space they expect to be inviolable can have lingering effects.
“Children feel safe at home," he said. "The injury makes them for the first time lose that sense of security — that their parents are keeping them safe, that their homes are invincible, and suddenly their homes become not so.”
One recent morning, children were playing in the courtyard of a vocational school-turned-shelter in Dekwaneh, north of Beirut, where nearly 3,000 people displaced from the south are now living. The parents were busy with an overflowing bathroom that serves one floor in a building that houses nearly 700 people.
Only playtime brings the children, from different villages in the south, together. They were divided in two teams, ages ranging between 6 and 12, competing to get the handkerchief first. A tiny girl hugged and held hands with strangers visiting the shelter. “I am from Lebanon. Don't tell anyone,” she whispered in their ears.
The game turned rowdy when two girls in their early teens got into a fist fight. Pushing and shoving began. Tears and tantrums followed. The tiny girl walked away in a daze.
Maria Elizabeth Haddad, manager of the psychosocial support programs in Beirut and neighboring areas for the U.S.-based International Medical Corps, said parents in shelters reported signs of increased anxiety, hostility and aggression among kids. They talk back to parents and ignore rules. Some have developed speech impediments and clinginess. One is showing early signs of psychosis.
“There are going to be residual symptoms when they grow up, especially related to attachment ties, to feeling of security,” Haddad said. “It is a generational trauma. We have experienced it before with our parents. ... They don’t have stability or search for (extra) stability. This is not going to be easy to overcome.”
Children represent more than a third of over 1 million people displaced by the war in Lebanon and following Israeli evacuation notices, according to U.N. and government estimates (more than 60,000 people have been displaced from northern Israel). That leaves hundreds of thousands in Lebanon without schooling, either because their schools were inaccessible or have been turned into shelters.
Hussein's father says he and his son must start together from scratch. With help from relatives, the two have found a temporary shelter in a home — and, for the father, a brief sense of relief. “I thank God he is not asking for or about his mother and his siblings,” said Hassan Mikdad, the 40-year-old father.
He has no explanation for his son, who watched their family die in their home. His two sisters — Celine, 10, and Cila, 14 — were pulled out of the rubble the following day. His mother, Mona, was pulled out three days later. She was locked in an embrace with her 6-year-old son, Ali.
The strike on Oct. 21 also caused damage across the street, to one of Beirut’s main public hospitals, breaking solar panels and windows in the pharmacy and the dialysis unit. The father survived because he had stepped out for coffee. He watched his building crumble in the late-night airstrike. He also lost his shop, his motorcycles and car — all the evidence of his 16 years of family life.
His friend, Hussein Hammoudeh, arrived on the scene to help sift through rubble. Hammoudeh spotted young Hussein Mikdad’s fingers in the darkness in an alley behind their home. At first he thought they were severed limbs — until he heard the boy’s screams. He dug out Hussein with glass lodged in his leg and a metal bar in his shoulder. Hammoudeh said he didn’t recognize the boy. He held the child's almost-severed wrist in place.
In the hospital now, Hussein Mikdad sipped a juice as he listened to his father and his friend. His father turned to him, asking if he wanted a Spider-Man toy — an effort to forestall a new outburst of tears. He said he buys Hussein a toy each day.
“What I am living through seems like a big lie. ...The mind can’t comprehend,” he said. “I thank God for the blessing that is Hussein.”
Hussein and Zahraa, 3, displaced Lebanese twins who fled with their parents from their village of Mais al-Jabal in south Lebanon amid the ongoing Hezbollah-Israel war, play on a gun with a twisted barrel statute, symbolizing anti-violence, in Beirut, Lebanon, Thursday, Oct. 31, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
A Doctor's Without Borders counselor, left, talks to displaced children during a mental healthcare session in an empty building complex housing them, in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Oct. 9, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Displaced children take part in activities for mental healthcare, organized by the International Medical Corps, at a shelter housing them in Dekwaneh, east Beirut, Lebanon, Thursday, Nov. 7, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Displaced children draw during a mental healthcare session organized by Doctors Without Borders in an empty building complex housing them, in Beirut, Lebanon, Wednesday, Oct. 9, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Displaced children take part in activities, organized by the International Medical Corps, at a shelter housing them in Dekwaneh, east Beirut, Lebanon, Thursday, Nov. 7, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Rescue workers gather at the site of Israeli airstrikes that destroyed buildings facing the city's main government hospital in a densely-populated neighborhood, in southern Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Oct. 22, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
In this undated photo provided by Fatima Zayoun, Rahaf Skakye, 7, left, and her sister Ivana Skakye, 2, pose for photo earlier this year before both girls suffered severe burns in their home in southern Lebanon following an Israeli airstrike last September near their home in the village of Deir Qanoun al Nahr, south Lebanon. (Fatima Zayoun via AP)
A nurse stands next of Ivana Skakye, 2, a Lebanese girl who is suffering from third-degree burns over 40 percent of her body following an Israeli airstrike last September near their home in Deir Qanoun al Nahr a village in south Lebanon, as she lies on a bed at the Geitaoui hospital where she is receiving treatment, in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Fatima Zayoun, covers her daughter Ivana Skakye, 2, who is suffered for third-degree burns over 40 percent of her body following an Israeli airstrike last September near their home in Deir Qanoun al Nahr a village in south Lebanon, as she lies on the bed at the Lebanese hospital Geitaoui where she is receiving treatment, in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Plastic surgeon doctor Ziad Sleiman, inspects Ivana Skakye, 2, a Lebanese child who is suffering from third-degree burns over 40 percent of her body following an Israeli airstrike last September near their home in Deir Qanoun al Nahr a village in south Lebanon, as she lies on a bed at the Geitaoui hospital where she is receiving treatment, in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Ivana Skakye, 2, a Lebanese child who is suffering from third-degree burns over 40 percent of her body following an Israeli airstrike last September near their home in Deir Qanoun al Nahr, a village in south Lebanon, raises her burned arms as she lies on a bed at the Geitaoui hospital where she is receiving treatment, in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Fatima Zayoun, right, speaks during an interview with The Associated Press as she sits next to her daughter Ivana Skakye, 2, who is suffering from third-degree burns over 40 percent of her body following an Israeli airstrike last September near their home in Deir Qanoun al Nahr a village in south Lebanon, at the Geitaoui hospital where she is receiving treatment, in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Oct. 29, 2024. (AP Photo/Hussein Malla)
Hussein Mikdad, 4, left, and his cousin Zahraa, right, who were injured on Oct. 2 in an Israeli airstrike at a densely-populated neighborhood south of Beirut, sit on their wheelchairs as they wait to be seen by their doctor at American University of Beirut Medical Center (AUBMC), in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Nov. 5, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Hussein Mikdad, 4, left, who was injured on Oct. 2 in an Israeli airstrike at a densely-populated neighborhood south of Beirut, looks at his father Hassan, during an interview with The Associated Press at the American University of Beirut Medical Center (AUBMC), in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Nov. 5, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Hassan Mikdad, holds his son Hussein Mikdad, 4, who was injured on Oct. 2 in an Israeli airstrike at a densely-populated neighborhood south of Beirut, during a check up by his doctor at the American University of Beirut Medical Center (AUBMC), in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Nov. 5, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)
Hassan Mikdad, holds his son Hussein Mikdad, 4, who was injured on Oct. 2 in an Israeli airstrike at a densely-populated neighborhood south of Beirut, as he cries during a check up by his doctor at the American University of Beirut Medical Center (AUBMC), in Beirut, Lebanon, Tuesday, Nov. 5, 2024. (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)