Back to the Moon

by Travis S. Taylor

  “Huh?” Bill could see that his colleague finally realized he was on the Orion spacecraft somewhere in the depths of space between the Moon and Earth and that an alarm was blaring at them. And in some way or other, that alarm probably meant something was trying to kill them in some form or fashion. Chow looked quickly over at Bill, who was smiling right back at him.

  “Bill, what’s going on?” he asked nervously.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Stetson said. “Won’t be long for Houston chimes in, I guess.”

  Right on cue, the communication icon flashed and chimed.

  “Mercy I, this is Houston. We’re seeing a problem with one of your solar arrays. Are you seeing it as well?”

  “Uh, checking it,” Stetson replied.

  “Something wrong?” Hui floated up next to them.

  “Not sure yet, Hui,” Tony said to her.

  “Might as well rest until we figure it out, Hui. Nothing you can do right now,” Bill added. “Though my guess is that we’ve got an EVA coming up.”

  “Mercy I, any word on that solar array?”

  “Copy that, Houston. We see it. It’s the same one we had trouble with on the way out.”

  “That’s what telemetry is showing us, over.”

  “Damn. And I was having a good dream, too.” Bill stretched as best he could and pulled up the diagnostics for the solar array. “At least we’ve got experience with the thing this time.”

  “Right. I can do the EVA,” Tony offered.

  “Don’t jump the gun. Maybe we can get her started up.”

  “Batteries are kicking in, just like on the way out,” Chow grunted.

  Bill continued to scan through the diagnostics while Tony kept his eyes on the status board. With the array not pointing at the sun, the onboard batteries had to come online in order to maintain the ship’s systems, including life support. With six crewmembers in the Orion now, that would tax the batteries far more quickly than they were designed for. The carbon-dioxide scrubbers were already running full bore.

  “Houston, the same array appears to have seized and is not moving,” Stetson said. He looked at Chow and then back at the diagnostics screen.

  Chow could see that Stetson was concerned. Without maximum power from the arrays, the ship would have to rely on batteries to make up the difference. There was probably enough power from the batteries to allow the craft to return all six of them back to Earth. Probably. Bill didn’t like “probably.”

  When the panel stuck on the way to the Moon, the concern had been that they would not have enough power to go into lunar orbit and land. Without landing they could not have rescued the stranded Chinese taikonauts. If they had followed the book, the mission would have been over; they would’ve survived, flown around the Moon, and all the Chinese would’ve died a cold, lonely death on the lunar surface.

  Now the problem wasn’t to rescue the Chinese from the Moon. It was how to get them and Tony and himself back to Earth safely. And to do that, they had to have those solar panels working.

  “Tony, let’s run it by the numbers just like last time,” Stetson ordered. “We know how well that worked.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Tony agreed. “Who knows, maybe it’ll work this time.”

  “Houston. We’re going to power down the array-control system and restart. I’m pulling up the reboot procedure now. Do you concur?”

  “We concur. Reboot will take approximately twenty minutes. We’ll be running the simulations in parallel. If we come up with something else you need to know, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Roger that. Mercy I out.” With that, Stetson began reviewing the manual restart procedure for the solar-array pointing system. “You know, I’ll bet there’s one of them damned Chinese circuit boards in that thing that screwed us on the test flight.”

  “No way to know that,” Tony said.

  “Well, when we get home I’m looking into it.”

  Twenty minutes later, Stetson went about the motions to complete the sequence that would completely power down the solar-array pointing system and then restart it. The system rebooted, and the drivers started reloading.

  On the way out, Bill had managed to flub several key entries and had to redo them. This time it went smoothly. Bill entered the last keystrokes and then leaned back.

  “Nothing to do now but wait a minute or two.” There was just the silence of the crew compartment and the recirculating fans.

  “Any luck?” Hui floated quietly up between Bill and Tony unexpectedly. The two of them nearly jumped out of their skins. “Sorry to have startled you.”

  “I thought you were going back to sleep.” Bill’s statement sounded like an order.

  “Sounded like too much excitement up here to miss out on.”

  “Dang.” Stetson hung his head. Same result as on the way out to the Moon. Nothing happened. “Houston, the reboot is complete. No change. I’m afraid we’re gonna have to go out and kick the tires.”

  “It looks the same down here, Bill. Be advised that we’ve run the simulation down to the milliwatt. With the six of you in there, you need that pane working. You are still a long way from home.”

  “Understood, Houston.” Bill sighed. “Looks like we’re gonna start suiting up for an EVA in here.”

  “What seems to be the problem?” Dr. Xu floated up behind Hui.

  “A solar panel is stuck and not generating enough power,” Hui explained to the Chinese doctor. “We must all get in our spacesuits so Captain Stetson can go outside and fix it.”

  “That’s right. Everybody has to button up so I can go outside and fix this thing. Tony, we’ll do it the same as before.” Stetson pushed away from the console and leaned back in his couch. He was still strapped in.

  “Bill, I can go this time,” Tony interjected.

  “No. Not because I don’t think you can do it, Tony.” Bill paused so he would get his words right. “The first time I kicked at the thing, I almost fell off. I know where to stand now and how to do it right the first time without as much risk. I’m now trained to do this. You aren’t.”

  Stetson gave Tony a look that meant the debate was over. He was certain Tony understood why. It was the look that intimidated almost everyone who came into his presence. Bill never really even understood how effective that look was on people. He was just Bill Stetson. The look was just his I’m serious here look. But to anybody else, it meant Get out of my way. I have something important to do, and you ain’t gonna keep me from doing it, because I’m Bill Stetson.

  “Roger that. I’ll get the procedure pulled up while y’all get in your suits. Then I’ll get suited up.” They all had to wear their suits because the Orion didn’t have an airlock. When either the main hatch or the docking hatch opened, it exposed the ship to the vacuum of space and all the air in the crew cabin would vent. That meant that everyone in the cabin had to wear their spacesuits for an EVA, even if they weren’t the ones going outside. Had they not had to modify the Altair, which was still docked with them, the passengers could have just gone into the Altair during this EVA. But that option was out, as there were two one-meter long by half-meter wide holes in one of its walls.

  One of the big issues was the status of the Chinese spacesuits. They were a mess. It took them fifteen or so minutes just to get them out of the bags and cleaned up to a level that was tolerable for use. And tolerable was a word with a very broad definition. They were tolerable in that if the Chinese taikonauts didn’t put them on, they were all going to die. Funny how the definition of tolerable changed when one’s life depended upon it.…

  Forty minutes later, Hui, Xu, and Zhi were in their suits and had manhandled their injured colleague into his. Stetson and Chow were ready to begin the EVA. Once Bill was certain that everyone had checked and rechecked each other’s suits, all according to procedure, and had “safed” any loose materials within the Orion, he gave the order to move out with the plan. Once the atmosphere was removed from the Orion, Stetson would be able to open the d
oor and begin his EVA. The last thing they wanted was for some vital piece of hardware to float out the door with him.

  “Tony, we’re down to minimum atmospheric pressure, and I am about to open the door. Are you ready?”

  “Roger that, Bill. Just call if you need me.”

  “Will do.” Stetson smiled and gave a thumbs-up. “But I think this’ll be quick and easy. I should be back inside in just a few minutes.”

  “The dashboard shows decompression and a green light for opening the hatch,” Tony acknowledged.

  “Good.” Bill reached down and forcefully pulled the door release, opening the cabin to space. Without so much as a swoosh, the door opened and they were all exposed to vacuum. Stetson pushed and gently eased himself out the door, careful not to bang his pack against the hatch-seal ring. Once his arms cleared the hatch, he snapped the loose end of the safety tether from his spacesuit into place on the hull of the ship.

  Been there and bought the T-shirt, Stetson told himself as he felt the reassuring snap of the tether to the fitting. On his previous EVA to fix the solar array, he recalled that he had experienced, albeit very briefly, a slight bout of vertigo. With the star field, sun, and Earth rotating around his field of view, he knew that the ship was spinning. This time, he didn’t take the time to look around and managed to avoid being disoriented.

  “I’m moving aft toward the arrays. I can see them clearly. Our buddy is at a dead stop,” Stetson said. “Once again, for posterity, I don’t see any sign of damage. It looks just like it did in the mockup and on the drawings and when I came out here and looked at it last time.”

  “Roger that, Bill. Looks the same as before,” Chow responded from within the confines of the Orion. “Just tell me when you’re in place to kick the thing.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  “Roger that. Getting in place to kick it loose.” Stetson actually had no intention of kicking the array at all. Just as before, he planned to pull like the devil against the thing, hoping to break it free of whatever was sticking it in place. He placed his feet sturdily against the hull of the ship, with the toe of one of his boots wedged up underneath the handrail as far as he could get it. Then he grabbed hold to the panel with both gloved hands.

  “Bill, I’m ready to cycle the reboot sequence whenever you give me the word,” Tony announced over the radio.

  “Roger that, Tony. I’m in place and ready when you are,” Stetson replied.

  “Okay. Cycling the reboot now.” Bill waited a few seconds, and then Chow chimed in again. “Now. The power is cycled down and getting ready to restart.”

  Stetson didn’t hesitate. With boots still firmly wedged, he used both hands to grasp and twist the stuck array. Trying to move it first clockwise and then counterclockwise, Stetson jimmied the stubborn piece of hardware. Quickly he felt a jolt, and the whole gimbal began to move. Just as before, the array fan was starting to move under its own power. Stetson watched as the array rotated and began to again track the sun.

  “Best damned solar-panel repair team in the galaxy,” Bill chortled through a sigh of relief.

  “The board says the array is working once again.” Chow sounded ecstatic.

  “Tony, it’s moving. I’m coming back in.” Stetson began his climb back toward the hatch. “Let’s hope it holds for the next two and half days to get us home.”

  “Roger that.”

  Chapter 27

  They were one day out from Earth when they received a message that the President would like to speak with them.

  Painfully aware that the conversation would be broadcast on television and the Net, Bill Stetson arranged his multinational crew to make sure that Captain Hui and Dr. Xu were front and center. The aloof Zhi remained to one side while he and Chow each stood on the other.

  It was actually a joint call from the President and Chairman Jiantao of China. After the expected congratulatory remarks by both leaders and a brief exchange of pleasantries from both the American and Chinese astronauts on board, followed by both leaders reciting a renewed commitment to working together in the peaceful exploration of space, the televised visit began drawing to a close.

  Making his concluding remarks, the President said, “Captain Stetson, Dr. Chow, you are American heroes. Your bravery in making this trip to secure the safe return of our Chinese friends and explorers will go down in the history books as one of the greatest acts of heroism in the history of humanity. A grateful world thanks you.”

  Knowing he was expected to respond, Stetson replied, “Thank you, sir. We are honored and proud to have been able to serve our country and help bring these, our new friends, home.”

  The call ended, and a clearly relieved group of tired and dirty astronauts breathed a sigh of relief. Stetson returned to his seat and immediately began to once again review the procedures for their upcoming aerocapture. The maneuver had never before been used, and he wanted to make sure he knew what to expect.

  Everyone else more or less returned to what they’d been doing before the call, except for Zhi. Purposefully he moved to the lower deck and toward the seat in which the stricken pilot was sleeping. Dr. Xu was also moving toward the pilot and, as a consequence, was the first to see Zhi remove the handgun from behind the seat. He let out a cry of protest.

  Zhi’s eyes were on fire. He said to Xu, speaking in Chinese and for the first time, “I will not allow us to be demeaned and rescued like we are helpless children. We were to be the heroes. We were to return home to the parades. We were to be the symbols of the new China. Not them!”

  Stetson and Chow did not understand the words, but they could tell from the tone and the gun that Zhi had gone over the edge. As he watched Zhi wave the deadly weapon, Stetson momentarily wondered why an engineer on a Moon mission would have a handgun. More urgently, he wondered what he planned to do with it.

  “Captain Hui! What’s going on? What does he want? And please tell him that firing a gun in this ship could kill us all.”

  Hui said something to the engineer in Chinese that immediately drew an angry response. Zhi lashed out with the gun and hit Dr. Xu across the cheek, sending the doctor tumbling toward the outer edge of the ship’s interior. Small red droplets were now floating in the air around Dr. Xu.

  Zhi spat while he steadied his motion and spoke, this time in English. “I will not be humiliated. I will not allow our great country to be humiliated. We should have just died a hero’s death on the Moon. Now the world will bestow upon you the honor that should have been ours! You failed us, Captain!” Zhi turned to face Captain Hui and said, “You never had the courage to do what was required.”

  Stetson could tell from Zhi’s countenance and posture that he was not bluffing. While he was looking at the Chinese taikonaut, Stetson moved his hands behind his back and slightly to the right, skimming over the control panel until they found one of the few actual switches still used on human spaceflight—the one that would turn off the automatic pilot.

  When the system beeped, acknowledging that the command had been received, Zhi abruptly turned toward Stetson and shouted something as his fingers tightened on the trigger of the handgun.

  Before he was able to fire the gun, the ship’s attitude-control thrusters fired in rapid bang-bang succession, causing the entire ship to begin tumbling.

  The gun discharged, and the bullet barely missed hitting Stetson. Instead, it struck the floor beneath his feet. As Zhi moved to reorient himself and brought the gun up to fire again, Stetson launched himself across the room directly toward him. Simultaneously, Dr. Xu threw himself at Zhi, striking him on the side opposite his gun hand. With Stetson and Xu trying to disarm him, Zhi simply began rapidly pulling the trigger.

  A bullet struck Dr. Xu in the leg, causing him to convulse and curl into a ball. The next bullet went wild and struck the floor like the first one. Before he could fire it again, Stetson cold-cocked him on the jaw, causing the enraged Zhi to let go of the gun and rebound toward the opposite wall.

  Before Z
hi could recover and reorient himself in the weightlessness of the Orion’s cabin, Hui had him in a choke hold.

  Stetson quickly assessed the situation in the ship. The immediate threat posed by the Chinese engineer was neutralized—Hui had him pinned almost to the point of losing consciousnesses. Based on the amount of blood spheres floating through the cabin, Dr. Xu was severely injured. Tony Chow was already with Xu and working to stop the bleeding. The injured Chinese pilot was still out cold. The ship was tumbling, thanks to the distraction of the autopilot being turned off and Stetson’s engaging the attitude-control thrusters. The ship’s radio was signaling that mission control wanted to speak with them. And then there was the matter of the three gunshots.

  Like we needed this bullshit! Stetson said to himself. “Tony, you take care of the doctor while I stop us from tumbling.” Stetson moved to the control panel and reengaged the automatic pilot. At that moment, orange and red lights began popping up across the ship’s status screens.

  He said, “Captain Hui. Use some duct tape from the mechanical kit to tie up your friend. It ought to hold him. I’ve got to figure out what’s happened and why the screen looks like a Christmas tree.”

  “Bill! You need to see this.” Chow looked up from Dr. Xu’s injured leg and motioned toward the hundreds of perfectly spherical red balls of blood circling in the air near the center of the crew cabin.

  Stetson looked toward the blood and didn’t like what he saw. The spheres were moving toward the center of the Orion and swirling slowly around each other as they also moved toward the floor. As they neared the floor, they swirled around each other in a tighter circle, moving faster and faster, until they finally disappeared. A miniature funnel cloud had formed in the Orion, with the tip of the funnel being a hole in the floor made by one of Zhi’s bullets. They were losing air.

  Stetson quipped, “That explains one of the alarms.” He moved toward the hole to get a closer look.

  “I’ll use the patch kit. We have it aboard in case of a micro-meteor strike.” He moved to one of the storage bins along the outside wall of the capsule and opened a compartment. Inside the compartment was a small container filled with what looked like Silly Putty. The kit was standard issue aboard the Orion and designed for the purpose of repairing damage caused by a tiny meteor or orbital debris. Space was filled with small meteors, and, over time, the probability of a spacecraft getting hit was large enough to consider it a serious threat. The sealant could patch a small hole and keep the Orion from losing atmosphere.