SpaceCorp (34 page)

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Authors: Ejner Fulsang

BOOK: SpaceCorp
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Monica’s plan called for attaching the
Grouper
to the docking points with braided steel hawsers. As the slack in the hawsers was taken up, the
Grouper
would come to rest her smooth belly against the top of Spoke IV. Since the spokes were 150 meters in diameter at this point and a space-only-shuttle was only sixty meters in length, they could count on a fair amount of surface contact, increased by the slight tendency of the spoke’s nanocellulose construction to flatten out from external pressure. The trick was to be very stingy when applying thrust so as to keep from putting too much twisting moment on the spoke and possibly kinking it. A small amount of continuous thrust applied to the
Grouper’s
Spoke IV and the
SOS Cuttlefish’s
Spoke II would zero the spin rate in about an hour.

At that point, the
Grouper
would detach and swap ends so that both shuttles were pointing the same direction. Then the third shuttle, the
SOS Sunfish,
would attach in the normal longitudinal fashion along Spoke I. However, instead of mounting at the outer end of Spoke I,
Sunfish
would attach closer to the hub and facing in the opposite direction as
Grouper
and
Cuttlefish
.
Sunfish’s
role would be to provide counter thrust to the two transversely mounted
Grouper
and
Cuttlefish
. Exhaust from the
Sunfish’s
nuclear thermal rocket would be very hot and the nanocellulose skin on the spoke would melt if they located too close to the chamfer where the end of the spoke connected to the main hull. In this manner the three shuttles would be able to correct the azimuth of the hub & spoke assembly as well as provide it with forward and rearward thrust. Shuttle engines are mounted on gimbals giving them about 2° of elevation control—critical given that the hub & spoke assembly would no longer have the stability it had from spinning. It would still be a very tricky maneuver since all three shuttle commanders would have to operate in precise coordination with one another, the more so as they flew over the top of the
Einstein’s
ring to begin the insertion process.

Monica wrestled the stubborn hawser into position so she could attach the U-bolt through the D-ring recessed into the skin of the spoke. The U-bolt had a quick disconnect clevis pin that allowed her to complete the task quickly. Sweat stung her eyes while she worked. Someday someone would invent a nose-scratcher and brow-wiper assembly for use inside space helmets.

“Grouper, this is Monica. My clevis pin is secure.”

“Copy,” Gomez said. “Rolls Royce, Smitty, Hammerhead: talk to me.”

“Royce here, I’m good.”

“Smitty’s up.”

“Hammerhead, all secure.”

“Okay, Monica, Smitty, and Hammerhead attach yourselves to the
Grouper
while we take up slack. I want all three of you near the air lock. BREAK Rolls Royce, you get to do the honors and guide us in till we’re flush. Sam and I will be watching through your helmet cam so try not to wiggle around out there.”

“Hoo, Boss, I can see his dick gettin’ bigger already!” Sam quipped.

Apparently Royce’s reputation didn’t take long to establish itself, no matter where he went, Monica thought snickering to herself.

“Knock off the chatter, guys!” Gomez said. “We want to make a good impression on our celebrity astronaut.”

That remark only gave rise to a succession of ‘Ooh’s and Ah’s’ from the entire shuttle.

“Okay, Commander,” Royce said, “your belly is about one meter from contact… half meter… 20 cm… stop!”

“Okay, Royce, my tension meters show all cables taught at 150 kg plus or minus about 25 kg. I want you to go around to each one and give it a whack with your ball peen hammer—tell me if they feel the same.”

As Royce sped around thumping each cable, Smitty made a crude remark, “If it’s quality whacking you want, Royce is the man for the job!”

Royce seemed to take it in good favor. “Cable One secure…” “Cable Two nice and tight…” Cable Three is…”

“Royce, this is Gomez, say again last transmission. We lost you on Cable Three…” “Royce, you there?”

“Sam, you got vitals on Royce?”

“Negative on vitals,” Sam said, her speech suddenly laconic.

“Monica, you better go check—”

“Stand fast!” Freddie said. “Debris radar showing a flurry of small particles arriving starboard.”

“Shit!” Gomez said. “Listen to them little fuckers peppering us. BREAK Outside team, get back inside the airlock. Do NOT pressurize! Stay in your suits! BREAK Damn it all! Sam, didn’t you see that coming?”

“I caught the flurry as soon as it showed on the monitor, Commander. He must have caught a singleton.”

“Vitals! Tell me we got some vitals!”

“Still negative on vitals.”

“Aw shit! Can you get me some video?”

Sam manipulated the remote cam’s boom arm. It was a long affair—fifty meters with three degree of freedom joints every ten meters and a fully articulated end effector where the camera head was located. Royce’s body was still, in a kind of dead man’s floating position. Not a good sign.

“Get me closer.”

Sam pulled the head closer starting a detailed inspection at the feet.

“No, no! Start at the head and work down. If he got shot in the foot, that pussy’d still be screaming like a wounded ape.”

Freddie moved the camera head up to the helmet. The back showed a small entry hole.

“Go to the front, please.”

Gomez’ expression looked like he knew what he was going to see. In truth, he’d seen it before. Shuttle teams earned bonus reward chits when they went on spacewalks and with good reason. They were hazardous. The inside of Royce’s face mask was opaque with blood, a small exit hole in the middle where blood and air continued to spit out in a fine spray as the drops of blood evaporated in the vacuum. 

“Okay, that’s enough. Kill the feed and stow the cam.”

Inside the airlock the three remaining members of the outside team watched in muted horror as they learned the fate of the man they’d been making fun of just moments ago. Monica tried to blink back tears that wouldn’t stop. Royce may have been a self-serving asshole, but she had loved him once.

“Commander Gomez,” Monica said between sobs, “do you want me to try to recover his body?”

“No… maybe later. When the debris flurry dies down.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think…”

“None of us did, Monica. Anybody crews a shuttle thinks they’re fuckin’ immortal. Otherwise, who’d be stupid enough to take this kinda a gig?”

“Commander,” Sam said, “We have
Cuttlefish
inbound, ETA zero-five mikes.”

“Commander,” Monica said, “Do you want me to be part of their outside team?”

“What the… Monica… ah shit, come up private intercom.”

Monica flipped a switch on her shoulder panel. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Monica… how to put this… you
survived
. Get over it!”

“But it was
my
plan.”

“We needed a plan and yours was as good a plan as any.”

“But…”

“But what? You want us to sit back and do nothing and let that hub and all those fucking nukes smash into some pissant truck stop in the middle of goddamn Bumfuck, Iowa? Is that what you want?”

“No, Commander.”

“All right, then... Look, if you still feel so fuckin’ guilty, take heart in the fact that we are going to be on the flip shuttle. So you get one more chance to kill yourself.
Now
you feel better?”

“No, Commander.”

“Well, fuck you. That’s the best I got. Go back to public intercom.”

While she was trying to figure out how to dry her tears inside her helmet enough to function, Commander Gomez hailed the
SOS Cuttlefish
.


Cuttlefish
, this is Commander Gomez of the
Grouper
. Do a flyover of our position on Spoke IV. You are to take up a similar position on Spoke II. Your nose should be pointed away from the direction of spin. Do you copy?”

“Hey, Homie! This is Commander Rodrigo of the Cuttlefish.” At this point the conversation switched to Spanish. “We have you on scope… okay, Homie, I’ll bite… how the hell you manage to land sideways like that?”

“Pretty slick, huh, Bro? I got a Astronaut Monica Carvalho gonna talk you through it when you get in position.”

“Carvalho? Don’t sound like no Homie. Where she from?”

“Beats me, I don’t think it’s East L.A. though.”

“She got her shit in one bag?”

“Totally, Bro. She was Construction Supervisor on the Einstein.”


Cuttlefish
and
Grouper
, this is Captain Dinesh of the
Einstein
. You fellows want to switch to English so the rest of us can play?”

“‘Sorry, Captain. We’re just lining up our shit… I mean stuff… know what I’m sayin’? We’re cool now. BREAK
Cuttlefish
, you will need four crew to operate heavy hawsers outside your shuttle. Be advised we lost a man during external operations due to a debris flurry coming in from the west. Use extreme caution and stay on top of your debris radar at all times—flurry appeared to be preceded by singletons. Advise you try to keep your crew on the east side of your shuttle where possible.”

“Sorry for your loss, Commander,” Captain Dinesh said. “Can we be of assistance?”

“Thanks for your offer, Captain. But right now we just need you to spin down to zero and then hold real still for the next four hours.
Sunfish
is inbound ETA two-zero mikes. We should have everybody buckled in in about three-zero mikes. We will keep you advised of our progress.”

“Copy,
Grouper
. Good luck.”

Four hours later


Einstein
, this is Commander Gomez. On behalf of the SOS
Grouper
,
Cuttlefish
, and
Sunfish
, we are one-zero mikes away from your position.”

“Excellent, Commander. Before we start the reinsertion process, did you fellows suffer any more casualties?”

“Just one, Captain. Guy on the
Sunfish
took a piece through his thigh. His space suit auto-magically choked off the bleeding and his condition is stable for now. When this operation is over, I’m sure the
Sunfish
will want to transfer him to your sick bay. He will need surgery. Femur smashed. Femoral artery nicked.”

“Do you want to attempt a transfer now, Commander? We can dispatch a pilot craft.”

“Thanks, Captain, but let’s get inside the ring before we expose anybody else.”

“Very well, Commander. BREAK
Grouper
,
Cuttlefish
, and
Sunfish
, we have 20-person crews stationed outside each spoke attach point. They will manhandle four heavy hawsers each. The plan is that as soon as you are directly overhead and aligned, they will transfer up and attach to their respective spokes—four lines will be attached to each spoke end. Once everything is connected, we will slowly reel you into the ring. Also, once all twenty lines are attached, each shuttle should put its thrusters in flight idle.

“The hawsers alone are not precise enough to hold the spokes in position while we replace the explosive bolts. For that we have four large manipulator arms that were used for construction back at the
Pelican
. Be advised those arms are very large. Please keep your craft attached to their current positions until all bolts have been replaced. Also, we will not have the seals between spoke and ring replaced for several days. All pedestrian travel between spoke and ring must remain suited at all times. I guesstimate we are looking at about eight hours of work ahead of us during the next phase of this operation. BREAK
Sunfish
, keep me advised at all times as to the condition of your wounded crewman. If he shows
any
signs of deteriorating, we will cease operations and affect an immediate transfer. All shuttles, do you copy?”


Sunfish
, copy.”


Grouper
, copy.”

“Cuttlefish, copy.”

“Very well, let’s commence operations. Stay sharp and good luck. Dinesh out.”

Monica wondered if she should rejoin the Deltas now that they were back at the
Einstein
. Strangely, she felt a stronger kinship with her new crewmates after less than a day than she ever did with the
Einstein
after a year.
Bonds forged in hardship…

“Commander Gomez, do you want me to suit up and help the Deltas? They’re going to be on Spoke IV. Not much for me to do sitting around on the
Grouper
for the next eight hours.”

“Yeah, good idea. Suit up. You can meet your team when they bring the hawser head to the attach point.”

She rendered a stiff salute. “It’s been an honor serving with you, sir.”

He returned her salute, then used the flat of his hand to mimic shoving her away. “Go on, get outta here.” He turned to Sam. “We need a new OOD, Sam. Grab an Able Spaceman and go help her into her suit. See she gets out without the airlock hitting her in the ass.” He winked at Monica as he said the last part. “Oh and Sam, get your ass back here as soon as she’s suited. I want your hand on the throttle if we have to help them maintain clearance with the ring while they pull us in.”

“Will do, Boss.”

30 minutes later

Sam looked out the outer airlock porthole. “Here they come.” She gave Monica’s helmet a couple of jerky twists to the left and right to verify the seal. “Okay, baby girl, don’t forget to write!”

Monica smiled and gave her a thumbs up. Inside the airlock she turned to see if Sam was looking in the porthole from the inner airlock. She had already left. Monica felt her suit pressure compensating for the vacuum growing inside the airlock. When the light over the hatch turned green, the Able Spaceman called over the intercom, “You’re good to go.”

“Thanks.”

Outside the airlock if felt good to be free of the tight confines of the
Grouper
, even if she was exposed to debris.
That wouldn’t last long
. She waved as Gordon Smith, Delta Team Leader, floated up dragging the head of the heavy hawser. She floated down to help him brake at the attach point. It was hard to cushion your impact when it took both of your hands to hold the hawser.

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