“Get inside, perform a systems check, and let me know. I’ll raise Houston on the main freq. We good with that?” Julie asked.
“Yeah, we are now patched into the transceiver onboard Blackjack. You can transmit when ready,” Craig said, moving toward the airlock underneath of the lander by the aluminum ladder.
“Apollo to Gordust, over,” Julie said.
“Go ahead Apollo,” Yuri’s voice replied.
“We have reached our lander and will be using our own radio now. Thanks for the assist.”
“Roger, Apollo, we are about to hit the dayside terminator and swing around. We’ll be out for an hour or so. Luck and speed.”
“Copy,” Julie replied, switching her wristband channel indicator to use the lander’s system via an intercom system. “Houston, this is Blackjack, over.”
“Go ahead, Blackjack. This is Houston reading you on primary one, over.”
“Houston, be advised that we have a catastrophic failure of fuel tank two due to ejecta damage, minimal damage to struts three and four, as well as a slight fracture of the outer hull on the starboard side. We are running a diagnostic now. Will report, over.”
“Roger, Blackjack, major failure on fuel tank two, minimal to struts three and four, minor fracture on outer shell, starboard side.”
“That’s affirmative, Houston.”
“We have information for you as well, Blackjack. Be advised that seventeen miles due west we’ve located a signal from the Chinese lander, one astronaut sending out a Mayday. Can you assist?”
Julie heard the call, but it took her a minute to process the news. “Affirm, Houston, do you have coordinates on him?”
“Being sent to your display now on the data feed.”
“Roger, wait one, Houston,” Julie said, clicking her wrist pad from main to local. “Craig, did you monitor that last?”
“Yeah, I got it. He’s probably dead as well. Been there for several days if our reporting was correct. You can’t be serious about going, though, can you?”
“Well, you took the time to retrieve the Russians. Why not do the same for the Chinese? I know I’d want my body returned if at all possible.”
“It’s your call, Jules,” Craig said.
“What’s our status?”
“Bad, Jules. We have only fifty percent of total propellant load in tank one, and we’ll need ninety percent to reach our orbiter. With the two-stage move, the calcs were cutting it too close, and this just screwed our pooch, but good. We aren’t going anywhere.”
“Better let Houston know,” she said, keying the mike manually after switching on the main channel. “Houston, be advised we are at fifty percent fuel load at this time. All other systems are a go.”
“Roger, Blackjack, we’re working it. Confirm receipt of coordinates.”
“Coordinates received, Blackjack, mobile en route. Will advise upon arrival, over and out.”
“All right, Jules, I’m showing the bottom transfer pump intact and will try to transfer any propellant not frozen from the bottom of tank two over to tank one,” Craig said.
“Sounds good. I’ll advise when I arrive. Can you help me with the Russians first, though?”
“Sure, on my way,” Craig said, appearing at the door to the lander and coming down to help Julie remove the Russian bodies. Julie got inside the rear compartment and removed the lock on the robotic arms and moved them up and out of the way. In quick order, they had both bodies moved to the base of the lander. “I’ll take care of them. Go see to our Chinese astronaut and get back here as soon as you can.”
“Keep the main channel open,” Julie said, retrieving a spare ion battery module from one of the outer storage compartments on the lander and placing it in the same basket where the Russians had been. “A little insurance, just in case.”
“Yeah, the power levels on the rover were showing close to fifty percent. You should have more than enough to go there and return,” Craig said.
Julie walked to the front and got in the operating compartment, turning to make sure the two spare oxygen tanks were still there from their wild ride. “I’m just playing it safe. I’d hate to get out there and find that we had a short in the wiring or a gauge problem with the power levels.”
“Agreed,” Craig said. “Good luck.”
Julie secured the door and checked the pressure. She decided not to risk the chance of the cracked glass breaking, reinforced though it was, and left her suit on. Strapping in, she moved the lever forward and turned the rover due west towards a dark peak line in the distance silhouetted and blocking out the stars. If the coordinates were correct the Chinese lander would be just on the other side of that ridge line.
The trip was uneventful and Julie only had to back the rover up once to go around a draw in the ridge line that threatened to tip it over. After cresting the ridge she could visually make out a faint pinprick of light far out onto one of the many flat and barren lunar plains that composed the majority of the moon’s surface. It was farther than she thought and she was glad she had grabbed a spare battery module. With determination she pushed the vehicle lever forward and started towards the light.
Crimson Glory
Lunar Surface, Marianas Plain
In the near future, Day 48
* * *
The alarm chime rang for the last time as Hen Sing had muted the audible signal warning him of low oxygen levels, and he had used his last dose of morphine an hour earlier. He practically slept waiting for the return of the Chinese orbiter and the call from Beijing.
For some reason, he had turned off most of the unnecessary electrical equipment to conserve energy, but he had left the overhead visual locater beacon on. It served almost no purpose other than a visual identifier, and out here, there was almost nothing except the camera on the orbiter to identify his lander. The oversight saved his life.
His first indication that something was amiss was when the area outside his viewpoint slowly illuminated. Sing could not move to look out, and the angle at which he was looking afforded a view of only stars until a helmeted head appeared in the viewport, looking in with small portable lights on either side to the top shining in on him. The lights made Sing wince, and he squinted, hoping his eyes would adjust as he held an arm up against them.
The outside figure turned its head, and then the lights went out and the figure motioned to the door handle. Sing wasn’t sure what the sudden appearance of the suited figure meant, but it was obvious it wanted inside. Sing checked his coms and called over the main communications channel, but there was no answer. The figure stood silently, framed in the viewport, waiting patiently.
Sing reached for his helmet, putting it on and latching the neck collar, and then grabbed for his gloves, putting each on in turn. Then the cramped quarters also saved his life as he reached for the depressurization switch that would make the inside of his lander equal to the pressure outside on the moon, zero. Had he been forced to reach or move more than an arm’s length, he could not have activated it.
When the indicator showed clear reaching equilibrium with the vacuum of space, he gave the universal thumbs-up symbol to the suited figure and looked at the door handle. Slowly it moved, shimmying at first and then coming all the way up once the figure understood which way to move it to open the door. The door opened completely and, half illuminated from bright lights to its right, Sing could see the patch of the United States of America. The Americans had arrived.
“Craig, am I still patched in to Apollo’s transceiver?”
“Yes, Jules, same as when you left. You are linked it; just push to talk,” Craig said.
“Blackjack mobile to Houston, do you copy?” Julie said, excitement in her voice.
“Blackjack mobile, this is Houston. Go ahead, over.”
“Houston, be advised that I’ve retrieved a Chinese astronaut from the targeted coordinates and am inbound to Apollo. Chinese astronaut is alive. Do you copy, Houston? He is alive.”
There was a long p
ause as the information not only relayed for nearly three seconds with the speed of light delay but as Houston processed the information. Julie was sure they weren’t expecting him to be alive and neither was she, but there he was. She had dragged him to the rear of the rover and put him inside the compartment, strapping him in and pointing to the button to pressurize it. She feared at first that he wouldn’t understand, and his grimace of pain was more than enough information to demonstrate that not only his legs were broken but something else as well. She had waited long enough to see that he indeed did activate the pressurization, and she didn’t wait to see if he would de-suit or not. She got in and started driving back, using the low gain antenna to contact Apollo and relay her signal.
“Roger, Julie.” Rock’s voice came back steady. “Message understood and authorization to continue the extraction procedure is still authorized. Continue on mission.”
Julie hit a bump and slowed down a bit as she imagined the pain that may have caused her passenger. “Houston, do you have solution on the fuel shortage?”
The question was a hard one to ask, and her actions were most likely all for naught. Save the Chinese astronaut so he could die with them? Wouldn’t that be better than dying alone? She speculated, trying to rationalize her seemingly futile actions.
“Based on the data from Apollo, you are at fifty-six percent fuel capacity. Ninety percent is necessary for return to Apollo orbit and . . . sixty-five percent necessary to intercept Russian craft in retro orbit. Do you copy?”
Julie gasped. She had thought of the Gordust as a last resort, but now the fuel figures showed that they would not be able to reach its orbit. They were stranded. “Copy, Houston, keep us posted. Over and out.”
Julie clicked off the mike, not wanting to let the emotions in her voice be conveyed nor to make the mission team feel any worse on the ground. The work of retrieving the Chinese body, now alive, though it was thought that he would be dead by now, was busybody work to buy Houston time to run the figures and work out a solution.
She heard Craig call her on their low gain system so it would be a private chat. “You copy that, Jules?”
“Yeah, Craig, we’re SOL, and time’s running out.”
“Is that guy really alive?”
“Oh yeah, he wasn’t moving much till I dragged him out of his lander, but the pain definitely got his attention. He’s got both legs broken, and maybe more. I’m surprised he had enough oxygen for this long, not to mention living with injuries.” Talking about the poor condition of her passenger seemed to take her mind off of her own plight.
“So what’s the plan, Jules?”
“I’ll get back, and then we load our guest in the lander and wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“For what we always wait for. For Houston to pull a rabbit out of its hat.”
“Well, that better be one big fucking rabbit,” Craig said, not hearing Julie’s hysterical laughter.
34 The Rabbit
NASA Space Center
Houston, Texas
In the near future, Day 48
* * *
“What are you talking about, Marge?” Rock asked, looking at his second in command with his eyes arched and his hands on his hips.
The entire mission team had all but huddled around Rock’s main command module, crowding the space entirely and making Mr. Smith and Mrs. Brown look more than a little uncomfortable.
“Our handlers there need to get the Russian president on the line and make this happen.” Marge shot them a look and put her own hands on her own hips, a stance displaying more than a bit of defiance.
“I’m not so sure we can do that,” Mr. Smith said, returning the look. “They are still recovering from the bombing of their space command center.”
“And you’re asking them to abort their own mission,” Mrs. Brown added.
“We are not going to leave our crew up there to die,” Marge practically shouted, frustration in her voice. “You two need to make this happen.”
Rock took a long look at the observation room high above them and could only make out a mass of dark shapes, Secret Service most likely. They needed a push now. Rock grabbed one of his technical manuals lying on his desk and hurled it at the observation window.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mr. Smith asked, stepping back and into Tom.
The response was immediate as figures moved, and four agents closed in on Rock’s console.
“We’re elevating the matter,” Rock said looking at Mr. Smith and sighing when he finally saw the vice president enter the room.
Gordust Space Station
Low Moon Orbit
In the near future, Day 48
* * *
“Ah, copy, Vostonchny, please confirm the mission parameters one more time,” Yuri said, rolling his recorders again. If they were going to order him to do this, then he damn well wanted it recorded, just in case.
Vostonchny completed its repetition and then signed out.
“What the hell was that about?” Olga asked.
“It seems we are now a search and rescue mission,” Yuri said, keying the internal mike on.
“Search for what? We know where the Americans are,” she said.
“All right, Olya, just rescue, then,” Yuri cleared his throat. “Nikolai, prepare for orbital insertion burn in five minutes.”
“Insertion?” Nikolai asked, obvious confusion in his voice.
“Yes, Olya, insertion. We are going to orbit closer.”
“Bozhe moi,” Olga said, her face surprised.
“My feelings exactly,” Yuri said, clicking on the diagnostic system check and strapping his seat belt tighter.
Apollo Lander
Lunar Surface, Marianas Plain
In the near future, Day 48
* * *
Julie had returned without incident to see that there was no sign of the Russian bodies. She got out after swapping one of the mini oxygen bottles attached to her waist from the rover and moved to the rear. She had purposely drove a few feet past the lander so that its intense overhead lighting array would illuminate the rear of the rover.
She saw the Chinese astronaut sitting, breathing heavily. His helmet and one glove was off. Craig came down the stairs of the lander and stood next to her.
“He’s really alive. Such a shame, too.”
Julie turned to see him better, but his face was in shadow and the visor didn’t help. “You think I should have just left him?”
“No.” His voice sounded artificial as it was bounced over the rover and back on the mini low gain array. “I think you should have never went there in the first place. Ah, what does it matter?”
Julie ignored the pessimism. “I see that you either managed to get an extra six percent transferred over or you understated our fuel load.”
“I transferred what was still liquid at the bottom in the secondary reserve tank. It appears they keep another hull over the reserve just in case, so that wasn’t frozen or ejected when the top of the tank was breached, not that six percent will make a difference.”
“But you transferred it, anyway.” Julie made a statement and not a question.
“I guess it’s just the training they instill in you,” Craig answered back. “What are we going to do with our friend there? Have you talked to him yet?”
“Of course not. I don’t speak Chinese, and I have no idea what com frequency he’s using.”
“Let’s get him inside the lander and see if we can talk to him, then,” Craig said, motioning to the man inside the rover and then his own helmet. The man nodded and started to suit up again. “Best to tell the man to his face that he’s still going to die.”
“Blackjack, this is Houston. Do you copy, over?”
“Houston, this is Blackjack. We are transferring our guest to the Apollo lander, over,” Julie said, switching her com mike control to voice activation so she would be hands-free to help Craig with the Chinese astronaut.
“Roger,
Blackjack, acknowledge your return with one Chinese foreign national. Standby, over.”
“Standing by,” Julie said, moving to the rover where Craig had opened the door after the man inside had depressurized his compartment. Seems he was coherent enough to understand the correct button to push.
The two of them grabbed the man by an arm, each lopping the large suited limbs over their own shoulders. Julie was still amazed at how light the man was. One sixth earth’s gravity made for an easy move of the man over to the stairs of the lander where Craig went up first and then grabbed the man’s outstretched hands, arms completely overhead, and Julie pushed on the man’s butt, avoiding his legs, and in one fell swing, he was pulled inside the lander.
Julie started up the stairs when the call came in. “Julie, this is Richard Crandon, do you copy?”
“Roger, Rock, what brings you to the mike?” Julie asked.
“Julie, are Craig’s ears on?”
“Rock, Craig here. I’m listening, go ahead.”
“I’ve got Marjorie Jones here. She’s going to explain a little idea we’ve worked out for you.”
Julie just cleared the lip of the door and saw the Chinese man still suited on his back, his legs sprawled in unnatural angles, and Craig’s face, now clearly visible in the enhanced lighting of the lander, had a look of utter shock on it.
“Let us have it, Houston,” Julie said, pulling herself inside and securing the door.
Gordust Space Station
Low Moon Orbit
In the near future, Day 48
* * *
“Burn successful, orbital adjustment to perigee in three minutes,” Nikolai said, his voice tense.
“Keep an eye out on visual for the Apollo. It should be in front of us and down about twenty degrees,” Yuri said, scanning his own FLIR and seeing nothing.
Rogue Stars Page 218