Surely, we were not alone in this vastness?
Somewhere out there, a being, perhaps beyond imagination, was thrilling to its own adventure in the cosmos, but so far away neither of our civilisations would ever know of the existence of the other. I had no inkling I was to encounter one on my very first mission.
Was I excited at being in space? I was so excited I wanted to explode with the intensity of it. In silence, I marvelled at my incredible luck. Being here at this very moment thrilled me. I reminded myself to enjoy every single instant of my space adventure.
Reluctantly, I forced myself out of my daydream, closed the window shutters and squeezed through the hatch.
Back in my personal space, I found my old physics teacher’s Skype identity. I’d toyed with the idea of this call for weeks. I' wanted to avoid communication lag – which is a dead giveaway – so waited until we were heading northeast over the Atlantic, dialled him, and positioned myself to hide the background. I put a baseball cap on my head to keep my hair from floating around too much. I wasn’t entirely successful. My hair still frizzed wildly.
The screen sprang to life and a lady who I presumed was his wife appeared.
‘Mrs Peabody?’
‘Yes, and you are?’
‘One of your husband’s ex-pupils. Am I able to get a word?’
‘What name shall I say?’
‘Can I surprise him please? If you can listen in, you might enjoy it.’
A puzzled expression crossed her face. She shrugged and stood up, disappeared from the screen, and I heard her shout, ‘George!’
Twenty seconds later he sat in front of the screen. How much older he seemed. I’d not seen him for fifteen years. His hair was no more than silvery wisps, but the same distinctive half-moon glasses perched on the end of his nose. He must be long retired.
‘Hello. Who are you?’ he asked in his usual gruff manner.
‘An ex-pupil.’
‘Which one? I don’t recognise you.’
‘I want to thank you for interesting me in physics. If it hadn’t been for you, I would not be calling you from here.’
‘From where? Who the devil are you? Don’t play games with me, young lady.’ His grumpiness took me instantly back to my schooldays. He could be so disagreeably impatient.
‘Watch!’ I released a large globe of water from a squeeze pack. It floated and shimmied in front of my face.
His expression changed to one of total shock. ‘Good God! Slater?’
‘The same.’
‘How wonderful! A long-distance call, indeed.’
‘Not really, we’re passing over you about now. Only a few hundred miles, probably.’
‘Yes. Yes, how incredible.’
I broke up the globule of water and swallowed some. ‘It was you who convinced me to do Astronomy at Exeter.’
‘Yes, I remember. I knew you were up there, but never expected a call. I didn’t recognise you. I should have known from your hair.’
‘Ha-ha. It does behave strangely up here. I tried to hide it in the hat. Can’t do a thing with it,’ I removed the hat and every hair on my head seemed to execute its own personal escape plan.
Then something happened which I hadn’t anticipated. He began to cry just as Dad had. Sobbing, pulling off his spectacles, and hiding his face.
‘Oh, Mr Peabody. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
His wife put her arm around his shoulders and he was obviously lost for words, wiping his eyes. Eventually, he struggled to reply, ‘Evelyn... I’m sorry. You spend your entire life… wondering if you’ve done any good with your pupils and one suddenly calls you… from outer space, of all places, and tells you it’s all because of you. I am flattered… and grateful. Thank you.’
He soon stopped sobbing and we talked for almost half an hour. I performed some tricks for him and left him far more cheerful by the time we’d finished and said goodbye.
3 First Mission
This was it. Our first space junk disposal mission. We strapped ourselves in tightly, cleared our departure and Yuri applied thrusters to take us a kilometre away from the space station.
I’d already done the necessary work to vector us into the proximity of target one. After the checks were made, Yuri asked for a go to change orbits.
‘Wait two minutes from my mark and you have a go,’ came the voice of Gerald, our European Space Agency mission control director for the day. A few seconds later he said, ‘Mark.’
We waited the two minutes so that we’d be in the correct position for target one, then Yuri said, ‘Firing on four, three, two, one, fire.’
Relativity played havoc with our senses. Instead of looking out of the front of the ship, we were now on our backs looking upwards through the same window. All the effect of the thrust coming from behind. Weird.
Although the jet was slowing us in the higher orbit, as we fell, we gained velocity. Essential, so that when we were in the same orbit as target one, we’d be doing a similar speed.
I counted down our distance to orbit. Yuri stopped the engine.
‘Okay,’ I said shortly afterwards. ‘Orbit achieved.’
Yuri leaned over and we checked the instruments together. Correct altitude. Correct speed.
‘Gerald, orbit confirmed,’ he announced.
‘Rotate us, Yuri,’ I said.
The craft swung through one hundred and eighty degrees.
‘Go for adjustment burn,’ said Gerald.
The timing of the adjustment burn was calculated to leave target one behind us but catching up. Our new orbit was slightly out of the plane of the débris, so it wouldn’t accidentally run into us. At the correct moment, Yuri fired the engine.
‘Orientation correct,’ I said after just a couple of seconds and he cut power. Apart from a few hums and clicks, we were in silence once more.
Radar showed target one ten kilometres behind us, we turned through one hundred eighty degrees to watch the target approach. It was catching us at forty kph.
As the object closed on our position, Yuri fired thrusters to match speed and orbit.
It was now off to our left and the gap closing much more slowly. Yuri applied thrusters to make final adjustments and there it was, sitting right beside us, only ten metres away. Such a thrill to have found this object in the vastness of space.
‘We’re beside it, Gerald,’ I said. It was astonishing to be looking at a real satellite after all of the simulations.
‘Copy that. Well done, guys. Excellent.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if you saw it.’
‘What’s the problem?’ asked Gerald.
‘It’s spinning and tumbling.’
‘Ah yes, I see it on your video feed.’
Target one was almost a cube, about the size of a domestic washing machine, with part of one solar array attached. The spin must have caused the solar array to tear apart. The other array was missing, assuming it had two originally. Most did.
‘It is one of ours,’ said Yuri.
‘Typical Russian, staking a claim without proof,’ I joked.
‘Ha, I show. Top right on face coming around… now!’ And there, clearly visible, were the red letters CCCP.
‘Oh yes. Do you think it has any fuel on it?’
‘No. Seems old. Maybe Breshnev era. I not recognise from list.’
‘Wonder why it’s spinning so fast?’ I asked
‘Probably thruster stuck until fuel exhausted.’
We both pored over the array of satellites on the central console. I did a search on cubic ones and it didn’t give us anything like this, either.
‘Hi, Gerald. This is an unknown USSR satellite. Not emitting any signals. Weighs about one hundred kilos. One broken solar array and the other missing. Very dead.’
‘Юрий . Как вы думаете, мы должны сохранить его?’ Roscosmos broke into the conversation asking if it was worth saving.
> ‘нет’, we both replied at the same time.
I’d been told Roscosmos listened in, but this was the first time they’d made their presence known.
‘Hello, Ivan. Glad to know you are on the line,’ said Gerald.
‘What do you want to do, Eva? Can you stop it?’ asked Yuri.
‘Tricky. This bottom corner seems to be the slowest moving part.’
‘Yes.’
‘Pull back a few metres. Let’s keep ourselves safe.’
Yuri fired thrusters and we moved to about fifty metres. Using my arm console, I unfolded the left arm. Each of the two main lengths were about six metres and I stretched them out to a total of about twelve metres.
‘Okay. Bring me in so the claw is about twenty centimetres from the slowest-moving corner.’
Tiny jet manoeuvres let the Wagon close on its quarry.
‘Change the aspect so we’re facing the corner, please.’
Again, minor thrusts moved us around, so the satellite was turning with the slowest corner directly in front of us.
Using my controls, I opened the maw of the claw to about twenty centimetres, extended rubbery nodules within the grips, and rotated the claw until it matched the spin of the satellite. Fifty-five revolutions per minute. No wonder the arrays had sheared off.
With the stealth of stealing a chocolate from plain view, I eased the claw forward until it made contact. I snapped the grip shut and a slight judder passed through the ship as the difference in momentum transferred to us. The robotic hand and satellite revolved as one, and I slowed the rotation gradually as if deceiving the satellite into being unaware it had been captured.
It took fifteen minutes to bring it to rest in relation to the Wagon. Now we all travelled around the world at thousands of miles per hour as a single entity.
It was time to put all my training into use. With the precision of a surgeon, I drilled holes in the satellite’s casing, attached a small deorbule rocket and primed it ready to fire. Meanwhile, Yuri photographed the satellite for identification purposes. I’d filmed the whole process for my educational talk for schools.
With both arms, I manoeuvred the satellite so when I fired the deorbule it would slow its orbit. I released the grip, folded the arms and tucked them neatly back to the sides of the Wagon. We were running short of time if we were to rendezvous with target two.
‘Right, Yuri, get us out of the plane of this thing and a distance of about four hundred metres, please.’
Using thrusters, we soon reached the prescribed distance. Yuri rotated us, so we could watch the fireworks. We were motionless with target one stationary in the distance, highlighted by the setting sun against the blackness of the Pacific at night.
‘Hello, Gerald. I think we need fifteen minutes to ensure any residue falls into the Atlantic. Give me a go to fire the de-orbiting module,’ I said.
‘Confirm fifteen minutes, Eve. You’re going to be tight to catch up with target two, so leave as soon as you can after the deorbule fires.’
‘I’ll orientate in readiness,’ said Yuri.
We gazed at the Earth beneath, the bejewelled coast of South America approaching while we waited. A tropical storm was passing by the Galapagos Islands and we knew the serenity we were enjoying was not being felt by anyone visiting the famous archipelago. I double-checked our position in relation to target two. We should be okay. It showed why the advanced planning was so vital.
The wait was over, ‘You have a go for that when ready, Eve.’
‘Three, two, one, fire.’ I tapped the red fire logo on my screen.
The briefest of flames during ignition was followed by a cloud of almost transparent exhaust from the deorbule and the satellite moved away from us, backward in its orbit. The jet fired for about twelve minutes. Anything over eight minutes would have been sufficient for the mass of this object. They weren’t meant to be too precise. Yuri used the thrusters to keep it in sight and I could monitor its deceleration. There was no sign of any pitching so I must’ve got the deorbule smack bang on an axis through the centre of gravity. Very satisfying.
The deorbule fuel was exhausted and my console confirmed the trajectory was perfect. The satellite was falling out of orbit and would burn up over the Atlantic, somewhere east of Rio de Janeiro.
‘Job done,’ I said. Fascinating to watch it disappearing into the distance.
‘Excellent,’ said Yuri.
‘Well done, you guys. We’re monitoring it from Durban. I’ll let you know when it’s gone.’
‘Thank you, Gerald,’ I said.
We set off, not too late, for our second target which turned out to be an almost complete solar array from target one. I held it in the arm at full stretch and Yuri gave us a vector opposite to the orbit. Once we reached the correct velocity, I released the array and Yuri backed us off using thrusters. There was no way any of this array would survive re-entry. We were back on schedule.
We were fascinated by the third target. Such a surprise. NASA thought it would be a housing from a satellite booster, but it was part of the command module housing for Apollo XII. How this great chunk of moon history had remained in orbit for sixty-five years was a mystery. Its orbit must have been deteriorating for years. It was a large enough piece of metal for us to need to check where it might fall. Its irregular shape meant that it would be impossible to use a deorbule without setting it spinning, so, once we had approval, we gave it a really energetic shove in a retrograde direction and released it.
‘Some pitch, Eva.’
‘Ha. The Earth’s a pretty huge target. Can’t miss!’
We watched the housing disappear into the distance with some sadness, knowing none of the Apollo moonwalkers remained. Could I, perhaps, get the job of clearing up some of the space junk on the moon’s surface working out of one of the new moonbases?
‘Only the mystery job to deal with now,’ I said.
Target four required another fifteen-mile descent to match speed and orbit. We rotated, and Yuri adjusted our orientation. It was really odd. I pulled my binoculars towards me and stared at it. It was in the distance, approaching us quite slowly.
At a kilometre range, it was obvious to me it was not any run-of-the-mill space débris.
I let out a gasp as I realised what I was seeing. Surely impossible.
We’d been taught to keep cool if anything untoward occurred and I instantly knew this was as “untoward” as anything could ever be.
I took a deep breath and said, in a deliberately flat monotone, ‘Hello, Gerald. This is a type thirty-two sat.’
Yuri glanced at me sharply and grabbed his own binoculars. We both switched our communications to a secure channel. “Thirty-two sat” was code meaning the conversation should not be overheard – the media and lots of enthusiasts listen in to our chatter. Calling a “32 sat” also meant the public video feed was cut. It ran five minutes behind the live feed. ESA, NASA, JAXA, CSA and Roscosmos had the ability to continue monitoring us, while preventing the feed going public.
‘Gerald, do you copy?’ I asked while zooming in on the target on my forward-facing monitor.
‘Yes, Eve. Why the cloak and dagger?’
‘This is not one of ours,’ I said, realising that sweat was forming on my brow.
‘What, Chinese?’
‘Guess again. This is from no nation on Earth. Seriously. I’ve just zoomed the camera in on it. You’d better give us some advice what to do.’
‘You’re joking! Will do, Eve. Stand by.’
Again, Yuri and I exchanged anxious glances. Yuri adjusted our orientation and, whatever it was soon sat a few metres off our port bow, rotating slowly.
‘Will you look at that?’ I said quietly.
‘Alien?’ asked Yuri – in a deathly whisper.
‘Must be,’ I said as I saw the writing on its side.
We stared at it in sheer amazement.
4 Artefact
It was no
thing made on Earth. For all these decades, humanity had been searching for intelligent life somewhere else in the universe, and Yuri and I had found it on our own doorstep. This was no more man-made than I was delivered by a stork.
In the manner of a miniature spaceship, its vaguely egg-shaped form rotated along its major axis. The main body seemed to be some sort of iridescent material. The front resembled burnished gold. Deep grooves ran the length of the object from the gold collar to the blunt rear where funnel shapes gave the impression of a propulsion system. Stubby fins completed the resemblance to a mini-spaceship. The funnels and fins looked as if they had grown out of the fuselage. There was no sign of any rivets or other construction methods.
The gold collar at the front, as brilliant as Tutankhamun’s casket, had a matching central node the size of a large half-melon, evenly dotted with pure silver, two-centimetre blisters, reminiscent of thimbles, right down to the crowded regular dimples on their surfaces. Simply stunning. From the centre of the node, a long, tapering golden rod pointed forward, adding an extra metre to the object’s two and a half metre length. Its diameter at the widest point was about one and a quarter metres.
It revolved, sedately, once per minute permitting us to examine the damage to its unworldly symmetry. An entire side was smashed and distorted, showing it had been the victim of a cosmic collision. Perhaps the guilty party was a meteor, gathered by Earth’s gravity, moving too fast to be detected, and smashing into the object as it plunged towards the surface of the planet. A billion to one accident.
Its electronic entrails had spilled into the void, with wires and components trailing behind the direction of rotation. Some of the material was hanging out more than two metres, the furthest item being an iridescent cylinder the diameter of a test tube, but over twenty centimetres long. Two strangely coloured, uninsulated wires held it captive. In the fore section, similar tubes formed clusters of various lengths and all with different coloured wires leading to and from them. Had fire burned off the insulation? Inside at the rear were a dozen marrow-shaped, steel-coloured spheres which might contain fuel. Two of them were split open, one with a jagged gash and the other a broken shell. What gas or liquid had these vented into space? Fuel was the most likely answer. What sort of fuel did it use? Was it dangerous?
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