On to the Asteroid

by Travis S. Taylor

  “The Chinese have picked up what appears to be two small drones coming toward the launch complex. They’re not moving very fast, so the jets are probably going to be able to intercept both of them before they pose a significant danger to you. The information we’re getting is sketchy, but they sound like the same kind of drones that damaged the Dreamscape.”

  “Zhi Feng,” Gesling muttered.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. The leadership here is scrambling trying to figure out if we should abort and get you guys off the rocket.” Stetson stopped speaking and Gesling heard someone telling him something, but it was too muddled for him to pick out what was being said.

  “Paul, we want you off the bird now. We think the drones might be a diversion.”

  Gesling didn’t hesitate. He punched the emergency abort button just below his right fingertip as he spoke to this crew, “They want us out of here now. This is a hot abort.”

  All had been trained for an on-pad abort, but none had ever before experienced it. Mikhail opened the capsule’s hatch and grappled with the basket that was latched to the side of the top horizontal stabilizer bar on the launch tower. The bar was designed to remain affixed to the capsule and rocket until just thirty seconds before launch, a time limit they were currently well within.

  Gesling saw the crew board the basket in the order in which they’d trained: Hui Tian first, because where she was sitting with respect to the hatch; Then Reudiger, followed by Gesling and Ledford. Mikhail would be last, since he was the one designated to help the others board the basket. In less than sixty seconds, they were all in the basket.

  “Release!” Mikhail shouted as he unlatched and sent the crew careening away from the rocket in what felt like an out-of-control roller coaster ride. The stark landscape of the Gobi desert and the bubble of civilization that was the Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center momentarily distracted Gesling. But his attention was diverted for only for a moment. He knew that if they didn’t get distance between themselves and the rocket, then they could all die a fiery death.

  As the basket accelerated, Gesling noticed a plume of smoke coming from the north. He realized at once what he was seeing—a missile. And it was coming straight at them. He couldn’t tell if it came from an aircraft or from the ground, but that didn’t really matter. It was coming.

  He tried to keep his eyes on the plume, and the missile that was presumably creating it, as the basket passed sixty miles per hour and approached the hopeful safety of the bunker on the ground below. Gesling was gauging the progress of the missile against their own toward the bunker. It was going to be close.

  The basket began to slow as it passed through the door of the bunker. Once they were past the opening, the massive concrete and steel doors began to close.

  Gesling took one last look at the rocket that was to have carried them into space. He was still looking at it when the missile struck just below the capsule, about 175 feet above the ground. At first, Gesling thought there might be no effect from the impact, but he quickly learned that was not to be the case. The explosion and ensuing orange and white fireball quickly filled the sky as it and the pieces of the rocket consumed by the blast moved toward the almost-closed door of the bunker. Gesling and the rest of his colleagues could only watch the explosion as they slowed to a stop in the cavernous bunker. A red light just inside the door flashed continuously as they approached. There was no place else for them to go and no time to do anything other than gasp.

  The door closed and a solid green light replaced the red flashing one. There was a huge audible clang as the door shut just as the blast wave reached the ground, causing the entire structure to vibrate and ring like a very low frequency bell. A bell they were inside of. Paul wished he could cover his ears or shake his head in order to alleviate the ringing in his ears, but he was in a spacesuit and he didn’t have time. The five astronauts scrambled from the halted basket and threw themselves to the ground, hands over their heads, in a position to hopefully protect themselves from any falling debris within the shelter. There was none. The door held and the bunker remained intact following the blast.

  “Is anyone injured?” Gesling asked.

  In response, he heard a chorus of murmurs but no positive answer, for which he was grateful.

  “Zhi Feng. That son of a bitch. How did he manage to get that much hardware into China, for God’s sake? Two drones and a missile?” Mikhail exclaimed.

  “He is a very resourceful and well-connected engineer. Remember, he managed to create a heating system to keep us alive in our damaged spacecraft when we crashed on the Moon. He knows how to build things and make them work. And, well, he is Chinese. He didn’t have to get anything into China that likely wasn’t already here,” Hui Tian replied.

  “Hell, everything is made in China nowadays,” Melanie Ledford grunted.

  “Well, your resourceful engineer friend may have just condemned millions of people to death,” Reudiger said.

  “At a minimum he just cost your people hundreds of millions of dollars,” Paul added, thinking of the business end. Too many years with Gary Childers had shaped his thinking along those lines.

  “The ship is fully assembled in orbit and waiting on us,” Mikhail said as he flipped the visor open on his helmet. “Understand the physics of our situation. The ship’s liquid hydrogen fuel is slowly boiling away and unless we launch and depart within a week, there won’t be enough fuel to get us there and back remaining onboard,” Mikhail said.

  No one said a word in response. Gesling knew that what Mikhail said was true. Now that both the Dreamscape and the Shenzhou-X were damaged, how would they get to space in time?

  CHAPTER 18

  “They found three more crawlers, each with a missile just like the one that destroyed the Shenzhou-X.” Stetson was briefing Gesling and the rest of his team on what had happened in the Gobi the day before. They were sequestered in a Chinese army base several hundred miles from the Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center, protected by nearly five thousand Chinese troops garrisoned there.

  “This guy is a veritable arms dealer,” Melanie said.

  “Two remotely piloted drones and four remote-control toy trucks armed with homemade missiles. The attack was brilliant. And I think some Chinese military heads are going to roll as a result. They never imagined that an attack like this could happen on Chinese soil.” Stetson was scrolling through projected slides showing the remains of the hardware that had nearly killed them all.

  “Mr. Childers confirmed that the drones were identical to the ones that damaged the Dreamscape in Nevada. It looks like they were going to fly themselves directly into the rocket. The trucks, each the size of an ottoman, were clearly modified versions of a commercially available radio-controlled survey vehicle like those commonly used to identify property lines in remote regions throughout the world. There are serial numbers, so the FBI and others can hopefully track them back to where and when they were purchased.”

  “Any sign of Zhi Feng?” Gesling asked “He had to be close by in order to control the drones and the trucks.”

  “No sign of him. The transmitters on the devices had enough power to broadcast a signal up to a hundred or more miles away. He could have been anywhere, watching his toys and steering them our way by remote control. But the Chinese authorities assure us that he will not escape to continue this personal vendetta of his. I think they were severely embarrassed by this event on a very global scale.”

  “What now? Is there a Plan B?” asked Gesling.

  “You mean, plan C? The Dreamscape was the original plan. The Chinese were the backup,” Melanie corrected him.

  “You know NASA.” Stetson surveyed the room’s occupants before he explained. “Yes, there is a Plan C, but you aren’t going to like it. The NASA Commercial Crew Office can have a modified Falcon 10 ready to go by the end of the week. But there’s a catch.”

  “And that is?” asked Melanie.

  “It can only carry three of you. It’s designed to ta
ke replacement crew to the Space Station. The next crew was scheduled to go up later this month, but the bird is already on the pad and they just moved up the timetable. The trajectory can be easily modified to allow it to rendezvous with your ship.”

  “What about the other two of us?” asked Reudiger.

  “Grounded. There’s no other rocket available.”

  “Wait, my friend. You are forgetting about Russia. I have it on good authority that NPO Energomash is readying a rocket for launch as we speak. I am not sure of its destination, but it is the same rocket we use to send crew to the Moon. I’ve ridden on it personally and it can easily take the remaining crew to space for the rendezvous,” Mikhail boomed in reply.

  “Mikhail, we checked on that. The Russian Academy said that the rocket is being readied for a national defense mission and cannot be modified to carry crew in time to meet our schedule.” Stetson frowned, wishing that Mikhail’s option would work. He didn’t like the thought of only three of five astronauts making the trip to the asteroid.

  “Have you checked with ESA?” asked Reudiger.

  “Yes, of course. They don’t have anything that can be readied in time.”

  “And none of the other commercial launch services companies have anything that we can use?” asked Melanie. “What about Sierra Nevada or Blue Origin?”

  “None. And we looked everywhere. I’m sorry, but only three of you will be going to make the trip.”

  “Which three?” asked Melanie.

  “Gesling, Tian, and Rykov. We’re flying you to Florida on a plane that leaves in three hours. Melanie, you and Reudiger are being added to the ground team. I’m sorry, but that’s all we can do.”

  “Hell no!” Ledford quickly stood and nearly shouted. “You are not going to take this away from me. My team was ready to launch for Mars and then this whole crisis scrapped those plans because of the stupid so-called commercial space industry! The result of the stupid barnstorming and reckless space business put millions at risk and destroyed years of training making me second fiddle to this bus driver,” she said, pointing at Gesling. “And now you’re telling me that I’m to remain on Earth while these three take on a job that we all know will require at least all five of us to accomplish safely? This is total bullshit!”

  “Wait a moment.” Reudiger raised his hand before he finished speaking, “Surely Mr. Gesling should be dropped from the crew to eliminate the terror threat from our mission. As Hui told us, these actions aren’t directed at the rest of us, merely the members of the team that are somehow affiliated with Space Excursions and you, Mr. Stetson.”

  “Melanie, Reudiger, I hear you. But the decision has been made and it cannot be changed if we are to not miss our launch window. Paul is going on the mission,” Stetson said forcefully. He’d expected some disappointment and pushback, but not an outright attack on his friend Paul.

  “This is not the end of the discussion, by God!” Melanie shouted as she stormed out of the room while punching numbers on the touchscreen of her smartphone. “We will see about this.”

  “No, I suspect it isn’t the end of the discussion. But while we’re discussing, we have a mission to accomplish and little time to make changes if we are to be successful,” Stetson said frowning and shaking his head.

  “Not much time at all,” he reiterated.

  CHAPTER 19

  The Tamaroa was far more spacious than the capsule that brought them to space, and for that Paul Gesling was immensely grateful. Though it wasn’t exactly what he’d call “roomy,” it was actually adequate for the mission before them. Of course, part of the reason it felt spacious was due to the missing crew members and their gear. The ship was designed to take up to eight people on a two to three-year voyage to Mars and back; for this trip, there were just three.

  Located at the end opposite the propulsion system, the Tamaroa’s habitat was similar to the one Space Excursions had placed on the Moon. The core of the module was quite solid, cylindrical in shape, and would alone have afforded them more room than the three Apollo astronauts had on their journey to and from the Moon. Located behind the habitat was the transfer capsule that brought them up from Earth and that would return them safely there upon the successful completion of their mission. The airlock separating the capsule from the habitat remained open should an emergency arise that forced them to quickly evacuate into it for safety. At the front of the capsule was another cylinder about twice the diameter of the core. It had been inflated and rigidized once the vehicle had reached orbit. That forward cylinder was the command capsule for the mission—were it a naval ship or a starship from most science fiction it could have been designated as “the bridge.”

  Gesling currently sat strapped into a chair in the middle of the command cylinder mindlessly looking at ship systems and functions on a large touchscreen in front of him. Pulling up the schematic for the ship, he zoomed into the sections just aft of the command cylinder where there were three hatches. Once the core had reached orbit the command cylinder and three separate inflatable rooms had been deployed on the outside of each hatch. The rooms were inflated from packed dimensions of five feet by eight feet to a room over fifteen feet long and twelve feet high, each new room dramatically increased the space available for the astronaut crew to live and work. It was these inflatable rooms and the command cylinder that had been cured and hardened, also known as “rigidized” by the sun’s light. It was a very clever design.

  The central core had been launched packed with supplies and equipment that was moved into these new rooms once the crew docked the launch capsule and emerged into their new home. None of the equipment to be moved was heavy—there is no weight in space—but each piece did have mass and therefore inertia. Due to Newton’s law of inertia an object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion unless it is acted on by a force. The force had to be applied by the astronauts themselves. So, moving the gear required both muscles and coordination. It took nearly a full work day to unpack and then move the gear to its new home. It took another day to test and make sure all the systems were working properly. It wasn’t until after those system checks that the ship’s nuclear core could be brought online to full power. Then the crew could begin the long voyage to Sutter’s Mill.

  Paul tapped a few more icons on the screen bringing up the latest data from the ship’s nuclear engines. As far as he could tell, the Tamaroa was purring like a kitten. He hoped it continued to do so. Once he was satisfied the ship was in good shape he opened up the latest downloads about the status of the asteroid. It was still there, looming toward Earth. Their mission had to be successful. They had to stop the devastation and death on such a large scale that the Sutter’s Mill would cause. He had to keep it from harming Carolyn. He hadn’t been there to protect her from the crazy bastard that had shot her. He had to protect her from the asteroid. He knew he had to do something.

  If he wasn’t there holding her hand and doing all he could to help her regain consciousness, he had to be out here in space doing all he could to stop the asteroid. At least that was what he told himself to justify the guilt he felt for not being there for her when she had been shot and not being there for her now. The justification didn’t seem to be enough. He felt guilty just for being there. Hell, Dr. Ledford was probably much better prepared to lead a mission like this. Paul did his best not to dwell on it, but he couldn’t help but feel just a bit out of his league, and guilty for just being there.

  * * *

  “Well, the mission clock is at five weeks, three days, four hours and twenty-some-odd minutes.” Rykov grinned as he muddled the English with thick Russian accents and something in Russian that probably shouldn’t be translated anyway. “Only another thirty weeks to go before reaching Sutter’s Mill, comrade.”

  “If you continue to tell us how much further we must go, then this will turn out to be a very long trip,” Hui Tian said deadpan in response. Her Chinese accent was much less distracting than Rykov’s Russian. “I trust the
engine systems are all well and good.”

  “Bozhe moi.” Mikhail Rykov laughed deeply and overacted his amusement. “Computer shows the ship all in the green. And there is not really anything to do with them unless something goes wrong. You know, you should lighten up, young lady. I could think of worse places to be for the next five weeks.”

  “Ah,” Hui Tian grinned. She wasn’t certain but Rykov’s tone almost sounded flirtatious. “I’m very light, Mikhail. In fact, I’m nearly weightless.”

  “That’s the spirit, Hui.” Rykov looked back at her as if he’d had a serious thought. “We actually need to hit the spin cycle soon. Then you’ll get heavy.”

  “Right.” Hui looked to her right and tapped a touchscreen a few times. The mission day timeline and scheduling application opened. “Spin cycle is not for another hour and seven minutes. So, if you have this under control, I think I’ll wander up and check on Paul.”

  “Good here, I think.”

  “Till the spin cycle then.”

  Since launch, Gesling had spent the bulk of his time at the ship’s flight controls, which were located in the command capsule upship. Hui had to pass from the aftmost section of the ship, where engineering and the docking hatch was, then go through the core cylinder where they each had small private areas and where they would enter into the spin section later, and finally pass through the forwardmost hatch to the command capsule. The command capsule housed the main flight controls, computer systems, sensor interfaces, communications equipment, and in general all the things needed to run the ship.

  As she moved past the various parts of the otherwise sterile ship, she couldn’t help but wonder if Rykov had been flirting with her. Not that she was interested in him; not at all. But it had been a long time since a man had shown any real interest in her physically and, well, even if it wasn’t reciprocal, it felt kind of nice.

  * * *

  Paul sat in the command chair, his chair, scrolling randomly and almost unconsciously through the daily feeds from home. There was no real news there about anything he was interested in. Bill had mentioned that Carolyn had displayed no changes for the better or worse. No changes at all. It had been months now and still nothing. He couldn’t get his mind around that so he focused on anything else.