Vessel (2 page)

'
If I were to say it was any shape,' Mikhail continued, 'I'd say it was trapezoidal, with the top most surface leaning away from centre. You notice it most when it travels past a star, because the star will briefly disappear from view. That's the best I can give you I'm afraid.'

'What colour is it?'

'Uh… it doesn’t seem to have one. Sometimes its reflects every colour you can think of, and sometimes it seems blacker than space itself.'

'Copy, Mikhail, thank you. This will do for now.'

'Let me know if you need anything else.'

'Roger. Out.'

Aleks looked down at his notes. Underneath his shorthand glyphs, was a sleek, simple shape scored into the paper with thin blue lines of ball-point ink. As far as he knew, it was the first documented record of extra-terrestrial technology ever made by an official space agency.

'I think we have a visitor,' he said.

Chapter 2

'Give me the full briefing on this one. I want to know every detail,' said the NASA Flight Coordinator, who turned out to be an American man by the name of John Bales. He had summoned Aleks and Lev to his temporary office only ten minutes ago. 'And don't miss a thing,' he added.

Aleks looked to Lev, who gave him a nod. So it would be up to him, then.
'How much do you know about the International Space Station?' he asked.

Bales leaned
back in his chair, crossing his legs. 'Assume I know nothing.'

'Er
— okay,' Aleks said, looking again at Lev who returned the glance with an
I'm as confused as you are
expression. 'The International Space Station, or ISS as we call it here, was launched in 1998 as a joint effort between us — the Russian Federal Space Agency — yourselves — NASA — and also the European Space Agency, to replace Mir. It's built as a modifiable entity made of self-contained modules, and since its launch has been reconfigured many times, including for the recent addition of the Japanese Aerospace Exploration Agency JEM research laboratory.'

Aleks stopped, feeling a little silly.

'Keep going,' Bales said, smiling in a patronising way.

'Uhhhm …
well, the ISS is reaching the end of its serviceable life, and so we have begun the first of many missions to prepare it for its strip-down, deconstruction and eventual decommissioning. It's going to be replaced by OPSEK, a smaller platform that will serve as a stopping point for missions to the Moon, Mars and beyond. There will be an overlapping period between the ISS being decommissioned and OPSEK coming online where the ISS will act as a construction site. Some modules from the ISS will also be used in OPSEK. In the meantime, the ISS will still be used for micro-gravity experimentation.'

Aleks noticed that Bales hadn't made a single note. Did he genuinely want to know, or was this some kind of test? There was something about this man that he found distrustful
— he couldn't put his finger on what, but those piercing, grey eyes seemed to hold no empathy whatsoever.

'Can you tell me
what the current mission is?’ Bales asked. He asked politely, but his tone made it clear that these weren't questions; Bales was
telling
Aleks to answer.

'It's a three
-man crew for the Soyuz TMA Ten M mission. They replaced a group of six, who were mainly engineers and scientists doing micro-gravity research. Three is the minimum capacity for the ISS for smooth operation, although it can be run with fewer. Anyway, they're making the most of the opportunity with the free space to undertake some of the modifications required for the start of OPSEK's construction. For the first month of their mission, they're dismantling and removing the equipment from the modules that will form the foundations of OPSEK. At the beginning of their second month, a Progress automated resupply ship will take the old equipment away. Once that's all done, they come back home. Another research team takes over from there.'

'Who are these three crew? Give me a bit of background on them.'

'There's the Commander, Major Mikhail Romanenko —'

'He's a friend of yours, isn't he?'

'Yes. He graduated from the Leningrad Suvorov military school top of his class and went on to operate fast jets. He logged five hundred hours at a record rate, including front-line operations, earning him the Hero of the Russian Federation award. He enrolled at the Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Centre at the age of thirty-one, and after five years served as Flight Engineer on board Soyuz TMA Nine M.

'Major Romanenko's Flight Engineer is another young Russian, Captain Evgeny Novitskiy. He followed the same path as Romanenko through military school and on to the Gagarin Training Centre, although he has shown himself to have an even
better aptitude in testing than his Commander. A promising young cosmonaut indeed, although he still respects Romanenko's experience and authority — a trait very favourable among Alpha-males who spend a lot of time together in a close environment.'

'And the third crew member?'

Aleks knew the words he had to say, but didn't want to say them. He looked at the floor, feeling Bales' eyes burrowing into his head. 'The third crew member,' he said, not looking up, 'is an American, NASA's — your — Major Chris Williams. He was born in Ohio, was top of his class in the United States Naval Academy and has since logged over three thousand hours as an experimental test pilot.' He could feel his face flushing hot with annoyance — or was it embarrassment? It was a strange, emasculating feeling he hadn't felt since childhood.

'Very good, Aleks, you certainly know your background. But can you tell me more about Major Chris Williams? What sort of a person is he?'

Aleks shifted his weight from foot to foot. 'He's a short-tempered man, quick to anger.'

'What do you think
about that?'

Aleks' face was red hot.
'What do you mean?'

'Is this really necessary?' Lev asked.

'I asked you a question,' Bales said, ignoring Lev.

'I think it's a bad situation to be in,' Aleks
said. 'He should have never gone up.' He looked at Bales, who was still — strangely — smiling.

'Thank you Aleks, that's
exactly what I wanted to hear. I'm glad you can be honest with me — that's important if we're going to be working together. Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?'

'No.'

'Are you sure?'

Aleks didn't know what to s
ay, so he didn't say anything. Nodding to himself, still smiling, Bales stood and held out his hand, an indication for Aleks and Lev to leave. He shook with them both.

'I look forward to working with
you,' he said. 'I think we'll make a great team.'

Somehow, Aleks knew that wouldn't be the case.

*
* *

'RS0ISS, TsUP, come back.'

Aleks
rubbed his eyes as he waited. It seemed like he'd barely left his seat since the vessel had been reported over a week ago. A scratchy sting had formed over his eyeballs, complimented by a dull ache at the small of his back. The scenery around him hadn't changed much either. With not a soul leaving for more than a few hours to catch some rest and have a wash, Mission Control was a constant buzz of conversation. A three-day-old newspaper on his desk read:
METEOR STRIKE ENDANGERS LIVES ON ISS
. A lie, but one plausible and boring enough for the global media to let the story slip off the cover and into the middle pages. The glut of press that swarmed the building a week ago, attracted by the swollen NASA presence, had dwindled to a handful of chancers.

'
TsUP, RS0ISS, go ahead,' came Mikhail's voice.

'Good morning, RS0ISS, how are you today?'

Mikhail laughed, making Aleks grin. It always cheered him up to hear his friend's voice.

'Can't
complain, TsUP, can't complain.'

'
Are you sure? I'm betting Doctor Kotov would love to give you one of his psychoanalytical grillings.'

The man in question
, listening to the conversation on his own headset, looked back at Aleks, frowning. Aleks gave him a cheeky nod and a wink.

'No, I don't think that will be necessary,' Mikhail said. 'Spirits are high up here. It's not every day you get to disc
over something like this.'

'Ok
ay. But in all seriousness, keep us informed down here. Don't bottle up.'

Aleks
glanced again at the doctor, who gave a firm nod of approval.

'Although Doctor Kotov is looking very keen
—'

'N
o doctors, no questions, no thank you,' Mikhail interjected.

Aleks laughed.
'I'm sure he'll keep off your back so long as you keep being a smartass,' he said.

'Amen to that.'

'Indeed. Anyway, RS0ISS, we've got a bit of housekeeping to do. Did you attempt a classification of the vessel as requested?'

'We tried,' Mikhail said, sounding uncertain, 'but we can only
get a reading on it optically. Anything electrical breaks down into a nonsensical mess.'

'Copy, we've had the same problem our end.'

'X-Ray, ultraviolet, infrared — it all comes back garbled.'

'What did you achieve optically?'

'Not much. The vessel's appearance makes judging size difficult, but we've estimated it at around ten to twenty metres long, five to ten metres tall, and the same for the depth.'

'Big enough to fit people in.'

'Yes, definitely.'

'Has there been any change to the vessel itself?'

'None. We even analysed the static produced by our digital equipment, but it's as random as any other.'

'So the likelihood is that it's dead?'

Mikhail made a humming sound, as if contemplating how he should say what he wanted to say next. 'We don't think so,' he said. 'From what we've been able to measure, the vessel follows us perfectly, with no deviation from our orbit. On top of that, the chances of an object falling into a synchronous orbit instead of bouncing off the atmosphere or falling in and burning up are impossibly small.'

'You think
it's here deliberately?'

'Yes.'

Aleks noted down what Mikhail was saying. The conversations were being recorded of course, but it helped Aleks' mind to visualise the situation from his own notes.

'Has EVA approval come through yet?' Mikhail asked.

'Not yet,' Aleks said, finishing his last note. 'Lev keeps pushing for it, but we're being held back on that one, so no spacewalk yet.'

'How about the R2 GM
robonaut? Can we get clearance to send that out?'

'We're waiting on that as well.'

'What's the hold up?'

Aleks sighed.

'The usual. Politics, paperwork, red tape — you know how it is.'

'I do, but I wish I didn't.'

'Tell me about it. Alright, next on the list is the METI standard protocol broadcasts.'

Mikhail snorted.
'Really? You want to send some old coded messages to it?'

'Not my decision, so let's run both
Hello from Earth
and
RuBisCo Stars
anyway.'

'Roger.
Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence broadcast lined up and ready to go five by five.'

'Copy.
Proceed when ready.' Aleks twiddled his pen between his fingers as he waited. Although he was almost certain that the METI broadcasts wouldn't get a response, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they did.

'TsU
P, METI deployed,' Mikhail confirmed.

Aleks' chest fluttered with nervous excitement
that he pushed back down again with reserved reason. 'Roger. Continue with METI broadcasts at one-hour intervals,' he said.

'Copy, one
-hour intervals.'

Aleks made a note of the time.
'Stay safe up there,' he said. 'And please, seriously, let us know if there is any change in your situation, any change at all.' He knew Mikhail understood what he meant.

'Don't you worry about us,' Mikhail said.

'Okay. TsUP out.'

'RS0ISS out.'

Aleks took off his headset, and despite the ongoing chatter in the room, he felt a strange sense of isolation. As well as a gurgling unease in his gut about his friend's wellbeing, he didn't know what to make of the knowledge that whatever was up there with them wasn't there by accident. 'And now we wait,' he said to himself.

An hour later, he finished his shift and handed over so he could go and get some rest. He needed it, but despite his exhaustion, he
tossed in his bunk for what seemed like the millionth time since he had clambered in. Although his eyes stung and his body ached, sleep seemed to evade him. The air-conditioned room, one of many provided by the RFSA, was cool, but his body burned with a feverish heat that seemed to tie the sheets around his body in a sweaty, sticky jumble of limbs and cotton.

Frustrated, he
kicked the sheets off and clicked the lamp on. Its glow painted the darkness away from the mix of browns, beiges and washed-out purples that made up the temporary accommodation. He sat up and yawned, the heavy weight of fatigue hanging from his eyelids, and let the soles of his feet rest on the scratchy carpet. He shuffled into the adjoining bathroom, yesterday's crumpled heap of clothing still on the floor. Yesterday felt like days ago. He looked at his watch, a cheap digital thing his ex-wife had got him, and swore to himself under his breath.

Shit
,
he thought,
only one o'clock?

He had been in bed longer than he
'd realised, but for less time than he'd hoped. He would need to be up, washed, dressed and back smiling at his station in less than five hours, and the very thought made him want to curl up and die. For a moment he longed for his own bed back home, but he remembered it was just as empty and lonely as the one here. The overnight room was pretty convenient come to think about it. He shuffled back to bed, accepting that he would have to lie there and wait for the sound of the alarm.