by B. C. CHASE
“I’ll get him,” Shelby says. The arm starts to move after him, but it is excruciatingly slow.
“Be careful you don’t push him farther away,” says Tim. “You need to get in front of him.”
“Thank you for the tip,” Shelby says. “I was thinking I could trap him between the JPM and the arm.” Her focus is so intense, she is breaking a sweat. The motion of the arm is slightly slower than Commander Sykes’.
“You got this, Shelby,” I encourage. The arm doesn’t have a grasping tool attached to it now, and with Commander Sykes spinning the way he is, anything that touches him is liable to send him tumbling off to who knows where.
He is nearing the Japanese Experiment Module. His SAFER must have run out of gas because no more nitrogen is puffing out. As he hits the silver body of the module, he is pressed by the arm on the other side. He topples over the arm and flops down to hit his mask on the module. His leg slip up over the top of the arm and his foot catches, but then is released as his torso swings back up. He is freely floating up and away from the station.
There is a dumbfound silence. Despite the bad odds, I thought somehow Shelby would be able to stop him with the arm.
“I’m going to catch him!” Katia says.
“Don’t use your SAFER!” Tim shouts. “Yours could malfunction, too!”
“I won’t use my SAFER,” she replies, crunching her body up with her feet behind her. She kicks off ESP1 and speeds across the gap towards the Japanese Experiment Module. Commander Sykes is about to clear the storage module that sits atop the JPM just as she slams into him. They swing wildly up as Katia manages to grapple a bronze bar with one hand and one of Commander Sykes’ tethers with the other. She pulls him in closer and peers into his helmet, “Commander Sykes?” After a brief pause, she says, “His eyes are closed. I think he’s unconscious.”
Shelby, looking at a monitor in the cupola, says, “He’s definitely unconscious, but his heart rate is steady. I’d guess he’s okay.”
Tim exclaims, “Well done, Katia!”
“I’ll bring him to the airlock.”
“No, that will waste time. Just keep him with you while you finish the work. I hate to put additional pressure on you, but Jupiter is coming up fast. Now please, translate over to ESP1. No more free flying.”
But she is already floating across the space back to ESP1. She says, “I think I have the hang of this, Commander Manning.”
“I’m not a Commander, specialist Pavlova,” Tim corrects.
“I just promoted you,” she replies. Katia gently collides with ESP1 and steadies herself and Commander Sykes by gripping a handlebar. She quickly secures Commander Sykes’ tethers and then links her own. Because the arm is now facing the forward section of the station, she braces her feet in a handlebar in order to restrain herself so she can work on the bolts. Jupiter is now looming large ahead of us, the size of an orange at arm’s length. From experience with the other planets, I know that it will get much bigger very quickly at the final leg of our approach.
Extracting her Pistol Grip Tool from its holster, Katia says, “I hope this bolt loosened up while I was gone.” She presses the bit onto the head of the bolt and pulls the trigger. But the tool reels in her hand. The bolt won’t budge.
“Try pushing down on the bolt harder,” Tim advises.
“Okay, but it’s hard,” Katia responds. She seats the bit on the head again and pulls the trigger. This time, the bolt rotates. “It’s working. Thank you.” With the problem bolt extracted, she moves onto the next. “Tim, how long do we have until perijove?”
“An hour and fifteen minutes,” Tim replies. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m starting to have a little nausea. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring Commander Sykes to the airlock? At least he could escape the radiation.”
“We don’t have time. But I appreciate your concern. Let’s just get you both out of there as soon as we can.”
“Copy.”
While Katia is busy with the bolts, Shelby moves the arm back into position near ESP1 so that, when Katia is ready, Shelby can carry her and the CMG to the Z1 truss. The next two bolts come out easily enough and finally Katia finishes with the last bolt and frees the CMG from the support structure. “I think it would be inadvisable to try to save time by using my SAFER to navigate up to the Z1 truss,” she says. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Tim says.
She affixes her feet to the end of the arm and disconnects her and Commander Sykes’ tethers. Holding the 600-pound CMG effortlessly, she waits for Shelby to start maneuvering the arm up around the U.S. Lab and over to the Z1 truss. Katia keeps Commander Sykes very close as she rides the arm over. Suddenly, she says, “Commander Sykes? Can you hear me?”
Commander Sykes’ voice comes over the radio, “Loud and clear, Katia.” Through her helmet camera, I can see that his eyes are open. He remarks, “I guess using that SAFER wasn’t a good idea.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Katia laughs with relief.
“I’m surprised I’m still here.”
Tim says, “Katia and Shelby staged a very brave rescue.”
Looking at the CMG, Commander Sykes says, “So I guess you didn’t need my help with that bolt, after all?”
“Nope,” Katia says. “But I will need your help fastening this CMG to the truss, if you’re up to it.”
“I think I can do that.”
Tim says, “It’s good to have you back with us, Commander Sykes.”
“Not sure how back with you I am, Tim. Not feeling too well. How close are we to Jupiter?”
“Within 800,000 kilometers.”
Commander Sykes says, “We don’t have much time, then.”
“You’re right. We don’t.”
The two astronauts continue to ride the arm as Shelby maneuvers it over the top of the U.S. Science Module. When they reach the Z1 segment, Commander Sykes tethers himself to it and transfers over while Katia gets right to work maneuvering the new CMG down into position. Once he is settled, Commander Sykes helps her nestle it down and they begin to screw the bolts in. As with all the work they have done out there, this proves to be not nearly as simple as it would be on Earth. They are beginning to tire because in order to provide the leverage needed in zero-g, they have to employ their whole bodies, using muscles that they rarely use. The grunts and groans I hear over the speakers tell the tale.
Shelby asks, “How are you guys feeling? Your heartrates have increased.”
Commander Sykes says, “I can still work. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Katia says, “The nausea is getting worse. I’m feeling weakish, but I don’t know if that is because I’m tired or because of the radiation.”
Shelby looks at me with concern and shakes her head. She whispers, “I’m surprised it’s already this bad.”
When they finish the sixth bolt, they begin to fasten the electrical connectors. Commander Sykes asks, “How close is Jupiter?” Like Katia’s, his voice sounds strained.
“We’re at 556,231 kilometers,” replies Tim.
“Thank you for that,” Commander Sykes says.
With about fifteen more minutes of work, they have connected the last electrical cord. Commander Sykes says, “I’ve never been happier to be done with an EVA before! Thanks for your help, Tim! Let’s turn this thing on and make sure it works.”
“I will gladly oblige,” Tim says. “One moment, please.”
Through the cupola glass, I can see Commander Sykes raise his hand to Katia, “Put it up here!” Commander Sykes says. Katia lifts her arm to complete the high five, but then suddenly retracts with a whimper. She puts her gloved hand to her abdomen. “I’m sorry. I have pain.”
“Let’s get you back inside,” Commander Sykes says. “How’s it looking, Tim?”
“Uh,” Tim says. “It’s not registering. Something’s wrong.”
“Holy crap,” growls Commander Sykes. His intense frustration is betrayed by his voice. “Okay, can
you guide me through some troubleshooting?”
“Yeah,” Tim says. “We can try a few things.” There’s a pause, then he says, “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, Tim,” says Commander Sykes. “Katia, I want you to head for the airlock. Two of us can’t get more troubleshooting done than one.”
“But—” she protests.
“Now!” Commander Sykes orders.
“But I won’t!” she exclaims. “Not until the job is done.”
“You’ll only get in my way. Go back to the airlock right now.”
Tim says, “He’s right, Katia. Go to the airlock. That’s an order.”
“Katia they’re right,” I plead. “Come back.”
Katia raises her head to stare at Jupiter, now rushing towards us larger than life. I look out the window. To see the magnificent planet this close, partially obscured by shadow, is eye-opening. The hurricane-like storms are stunningly visible, with the cloud-tops catching the light of the sun in colors of auburn, beige, fiery orange, and, in some places, even fierce blood-red. Layers upon layers of swirling clouds and hazes, they appear as floating rivers and canyons of the greatest proportions imaginable, casting three-dimensional shadows that betray the vast height and depth of the gaseous landscape. Among the large white stripes are cumulous clouds that look so Earth-like that they tug at my heartstrings. The south pole, like an otherworldly ocean, is painted turquoise in swirls and eddies. Massive storms at the equator create giant ripples in the atmosphere that radiate outward, making all the clouds and formations undulate in long lines across the surface—like tsunamis on Earth’s ocean. Tim told me about these before. She had said they could be six miles tall—as high as Mount Everest. Looking at them now, I have no doubt they are at least that tall.
Jupiter is beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. And yet at this moment I cannot see it as anything but pure evil. Like a magnificent god demanding sacrifice, it is slowly killing the people I love, and will kill them faster the closer we approach. I desperately hope Katia listens and returns to the airlock.
“Okay,” Katia says. “I’m coming back.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and meet Shelby’s eyes. She nods, biting her lip.
“Commander Sykes,” Tim says.
“Yes,” Commander Sykes says.
“The first thing to do is check the connectors. Make sure they’re all seated properly.”
“Copy,” Commander Sykes says. While he starts manipulating the connector closest to him, Katia is crawling away from my vantagepoint arm over arm towards the airlock on the starboard side of the station.
Commander Sykes says, “This one looks fine. I reseated it. Do you see anything?”
“No change,” says Tim.
“Okay, I’ll try the next one.”
“Look!” Katia says, her voice straining. “It’s so beautiful!” She points to port.
I spin around in the cupola to look where she is pointing. There, against the gigantic backdrop of Jupiter, half illuminated by the sun, an enormous round, vibrant yellow orb is visible. Its surface is blotched with white, orange, and red. And spewing like an umbrella over the edge of the horizon is a plume from a volcano.
“It’s Io,” Shelby says breathlessly. “Erupting sulfur.”
I ask, “Will it provide any protection from Jupiter’s radiation?”
“No,” Shelby says. “Unfortunately radiation isn’t like the wind; it’s just there.”
Suddenly Katia moans and then the distressing sound of retching explodes over the speakers.
“Katia!” Shelby says. “Are you okay?”
But there is no response. She is motionless, drifting loosely from her tethers, her arms spread out widely from her body.
Shelby shouts, “Katia, can you hear me?”
To me, the silence is deafening.
Shelby glances at the health monitor and says, “She’s still breathing. But she could choke on the vomit. We have to get her inside.”
Commander Sykes says, “I can do it.”
Tim says, “No. First I really need you to finish checking the connectors.”
“You’re right,” Commander Sykes says. “I wish that wasn’t a good call, but it is.” He starts moving over to where he can reach the next connector. “Fair warning, Shelby. I’m feeling awfully sick myself. Is there anything I can do to make it stop?”
“Try to focus on what you’re doing and we’ll say a prayer for you over here.”
“Thanks,” Commander Sykes says. He spends a few minutes reconnecting the next cables and then says, “Okay, how are we looking?”
“Sorry,” says Tim. “Still not working.”
“Okay, moving on,” says Commander Sykes. We are soaring past Io, which is quickly eclipsing Jupiter and absorbing the entire field of vision to the port side. Its mountainous, volcanic surface and sulfuric lava flows emerge in vivid detail, especially in the middle of the moon where the sunlight causes their shadows to stretch far out over the surface. As impressive as it is, it doesn’t look like a place I would want to plant my feet.
“I have a headache, FYI, Shelby,” Commander Sykes says. “And Tim, I’m finished reconnecting this thing. Anything?”
“Sorry, no,” says Tim.
Commander Sykes says, “Okay this is our last chance that the problem is this simple. Moving onto the J1 connector.” He adds, “I feel like absolute crap.” Then he retches. The sound is muted.
“Commander Sykes?” Shelby exclaims.
There is silence. Then his voice, weak and hoarse, comes over the speakers, “I swallowed it. I’m okay.”
“You swallowed your vomit?”
“Can’t have it smearing my visor.”
“Oh gosh, Eric,” Shelby says, her voice dismayed and sickened at the same time.
“Give me a minute with this connector.”
Io is already falling away behind us and Jupiter, like a god among gods, obliterates our ability to see anything else, now. Its size and beauty would be truly awe inspiring if not for the fact that it is killing my crewmates outside.
“It worked!” Tim suddenly exclaims. “The CMG is online. We are aligning with Jupiter.”
“Perfect,” Commander Sykes feebly says. “I’m getting Katia and me the heck out of here.” He untethers himself and struggles to crawl arm over arm across the Z1 truss element and down to Node 1. I can tell that the effort is excruciating because he is slow and he groans as he moves his arms. As he crosses over the top of the airlock, he grasps Katia’s tethers and unhooks them, then fastens them to his. With her trailing behind him, he climbs over the edge of the top of the airlock and down to the hatch. His breathing is labored as he pushes himself through the opening, but once he is inside, I rush from the cupola through Node 3 and Node 1 to the airlock where I can see him through the portal. He is pulling Katia’s tether. Once her legs appear outside the hatch, he grips her feet and struggles to drag her inside. The huge backpack with the oxygen catches on the lip of the opening. Groaning, he lifts her up and pulls again. Finally, she is inside.
“We shouldn’t let them in,” says a voice behind me. It is Commander Tomlinson. “Their EMUs have been contaminated with radiation. We’ll all be at risk for exposure.”
I turn around and say through my teeth, “Now would be a good time for you to shut your mouth.”
Thirty-three
Katia is strapped to one of the tables in the European Lab, still unconscious. Commander Sykes is here, too, fallen asleep. They both have IV lines connected to their wrists. The vomit has been cleaned from her face, but her skin is flushed and a little swollen.
The station is slowly shifting its attitude so that we are aligned with Jupiter’s poles. “I’m so proud of you,” I say, though I know she won’t hear me.
Shelby, who has just finished adding some medicine to Katia’s IV, says, “Her fever came down. Hopefully the antibiotics will prevent any infection. Now if she would just wake up and let us know she’s still with us.” Shelby feigns
a smile.
“Antibiotics?” I ask. “But we were in quarantine. Isn’t this supposed to be a sterile environment?”
“Not sterile. We need bacteria in order to live. They try to keep things like influenza away as much as they can, but there’s Staphylococcus up here just like down there.”
“Do you think they made it out in time?”
“I wish to God I knew, Jim,” she says, “but with radiation, only time will tell. It could be days or it could be weeks.”
“When will it be safe to say we’re out of the woods?”
“Eight weeks.”
“That long?”
“Yes, it can take that long. But Katia hasn’t even regained consciousness and, Jim,” she puts a hand on my arm, “you need to be prepared for the fact that,” she looks deeply into my eyes, “it’s very unlikely she will.”
I have no words with which to respond. I am devastated.
“She didn’t have seizures or ataxia. If I had seen that, I would say death is certain. As it is, I think we’re looking at a,” she shakes her head, “ninety-five percent chance she doesn’t wake up.”
For the first time in space, I wish I wouldn’t have come. We are too far from Earth. We are aliens in a hostile part of the solar system. Our cobbled together space ship is continuously on the brink of killing us. We won’t survive this. None of us will. But worst of all, as greatly as I have grown to care for Katia, losing her is like losing a daughter for the second time. I came for revenge: not to be hurt all over again.
Shelby offers me a hug, “It was really tough for you, wasn’t it, losing your daughter?” Typical Shelby. She has read my deepest feelings without my saying a word.
I pull back. “She was my whole world,” I reply. “I wish you could have known her. Did I tell you what her nickname at the hospital was? Sunshine. She even started calling herself that. When she’d go into the patients’ rooms, she’d say, ‘Sunshine is here!’ And she really was. She really was. She could brighten the darkest place with just a smile.”