Colony - Orbit the Sun – Part 9

by John Stevenson

  The capsule had made the turn. Over the last few days it swept far from their trajectory before a few burns of its thrusters brought it close to the station. They had, had to match speeds, and the mass of Earthrise caused a drag that reversed the rockets course, and placed it to be just ahead; far enough that tiny burns of its thrusters would bring it alongside.

  Andrew and Matt stood behind Alisha as she drew the rocket towards them. All through the station video screens showed the approach to a silent: anxious, audience. Periodically brief puffs of gas emerged parallel to the cross hairs that broke the screen into four, bringing the school bus sized silver body back into the center of the docking screen. Everybody in the room could detect the slightly raised tone in Alishas voice as she talked the capsule in. She was doing a good: but not entirely successful one of hiding her stress.

  Back on the surface Mathew had done dozens of docking simulations, with a wide range of vessels. He recalled now that occasionally he brought some in too fast in an effort to get on and do other things. He wasn’t the best person for the job; she was, neither was he ever more aware that so much tension hung on the heavy metallic click that would signify the capture of the capsule.

  The vaguely cylindrical shape now almost filled the viewer “Five hundred meters.” Called Alisha.

  “Five hundred meters… confirmed.” Matt called back. There was a lowered voice off to the side of the room.

  “Commander?”

  Matt did his best to ignore it, until a few seconds later Andrew was tapping his shoulder.

  “Mathew,” he said softly: and anxiously. “We are detecting solar radiation?”

  “Four hundred meters,” called the female voice again.

  “Four hundred meters… confirmed,” Matt replied. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the screen seemed a little grainier. “

  “Three hundred and fifty meters,” said Alisha. “

  “Three hundred and fifty meters,” he called back. The screen was definitely grainier now as adjacent pixels began to merge. He tried to concentrate but his eyes began to shoot back and forward between Alisha and Andrew.

  Andrew tapped his shoulder again. His voice was firmer. “Mathew I’m calling for an evacuation, Alisha hurry it up; we’re evacuating?”

  “Three hundred... I’m loosing it?” called Alisha anxiously.

  Andrew shook Matt’s shoulder. “I’m declaring evacuation.” He said urgently.

  “Three hundred meters.” Matt called back, as his body tensed at the sound of the fire alarm. “Timing?” he said as he glanced up at the time displayed on a clock over the bank of instruments.

  The room was quickly emptying.

  Unperturbed Alisha continued to call out the closing distance. “Two hundred and seventy- five meters,”

  Andrews voice was demanding. “Alisha put it on hold; we need to leave?”

  “I can’t.” She protested. “I’ve disconnected auto pilot for manual docking… I cant…It’s gone off?”

  Mathew had stopped repeating her call: mentally trying to wish the errant capsule back to the middle of the flickering screen. He knew any second they could loose the image: she had to keep it steady and exactly on position. Suddenly the screen went to a blank pattern of static.

  She held steady, remembering the bias that the capsule had showed as it attempted to drift. She counted to fifteen and gave the shortest of firings on one of the thrusters.

  “That’s it; out, both of you.” Demanded Andrew.

  Mathew began to speak but Andrew cut him off. “No buts, you’ve already had your limit of Rad’s, go.”

  He moved beside Alisha. “You too, shut it down and get to the refuge.”

  “I can’t commander, we’ll lose it?”

  “And if you stay we’ll lose our only shuttle pilot, and right now you are far more important than any amount of supplies.”

  “Command…”

  “Damn it woman I’m the commander and you’ll do as you are ordered, now get off that seat and get to the refuge.”

  Reluctantly she got up.

  “Go.” He snapped

  “But were almost there?” she protested.

  “I don’t care: go; now, or I’ll drag you there”

  As Alisha went through the door Andrew sat down. He couldn’t see the shuttle but the display in front of him registered it at seventy-five meters.”

  His finger was on the firing button as a broken; poor picture flickered before him. The capsule was almost exactly in position; she had done well; he was right she was too valuable to lose. His finger eased as static once more filled the screen. Suddenly he blinked as a brilliant flash of light filled his right eye. It surprised him but he knew what it was: a high-energy particle had pierced his retina.

  “Okay… your doing fine,” he said; calmly, mostly to himself, but also to the audio record of what he was doing. “Estimate fifty meters?”

  He should fire the final reverse thrusters to slow the approach to a snails pace, but he held off. There was just a fraction more time to hope and wait for anything of an image to appear. “Twenty-five meters.” “

  His flesh had begun to feel strange; he couldn’t tell if his skin was covered with tiny creatures moving about or if it was just tingling from the warmth, and the flashes in his eyes had become so regular that he had to squint to watch the static on the screen.

  “It could be coming in a little too fast?” he said as at last he pressed the retro rocket. He had no choice; if he waited any longer the resulting heavy landing could damage the coupling and jam everything up.

  The screen flickered again. The picture was more static than image but it was enough for Andrew to make a final adjustment. “Twenty meters?”

  He stared so hard at the screen that the random interference seemed to make all kinds of shapes before his eyes but nothing more was seen of the capsule as the seconds ticked away. The capsule was so close that the gap could no longer be estimated and Andrew closed the air locks off in case of a collision.

  In theory the locating pin on the front of the capsule should be within twenty centimeters; in reality it could be a meter off position. Any more and the capsule would crash into the side of the pod: bounce off, to be lost or damaged.

  There was nothing he could do now, he couldn’t adjust the position or speed if he couldn’t see anything. Andrew sighed as he lay back in the chair. He could and should get up and race to the refuge, but he had left it too late. He was surprised that he didn’t feel any panic or regret, instead he was calm. He had tried to be good at his job and he believed he was, but he had been challenged with an unprecedented set of problems, yet through them all he had brought his command to the brink of salvation.

  Breaking into the total silence was a gentle metallic thunk; followed immediately by a scraping noise, leaving him picturing the locating pin dragging across the cone shaped target. The sound stopped next there would be another click as the pin locked, or nothing as it slipped off the outer edge.

  It was bittersweet irony, as commander he had done what he had to for Earthrise, but as a man he had failed: he had compromised and been corrupted. So he was going to die: weren’t we all, at least he had the chance for absolution.

  The reassuring firm click let his heart begin to beat again.