Mission Control would design the baby clothes for them. The child would need clothes offering protection against bone density loss, similar to the suits worn by the adult astronauts but taking growth into account. No one on board had any experience designing patterns for this particular elastic material. Jiaying agreed to sew mini-suits in several sizes. As a child, she had lived with her grandmother who had taught her to sew.
Hayato also presented the idea for a baby bed to the others. He wanted to remodel one of the spare spider robots for this purpose. Instead of checking the outer hull of the spaceship, this machine would rock the baby to sleep and always keep the right spatial orientation, even if the gravity in the ring failed. The hardware of the spider robot was flexible enough to be adapted to such tasks. He also needed material from the spare part storage, and of course one of the spiders. Mission Control had to agree to this as well.
Finally, they must solve another safety issue. In case of a loss of shipboard pressure, the entire crew could save themselves by using their LEAs or ‘Launch, Entry, Abort’ spacesuits, until the atmosphere was breathable again. The baby would have no chance if this happened. It was completely impossible to construct an LEA on board. What would help, though, was a pressure-resistant container that could be connected to an oxygen tank. Martin came up with the solution—the areas of the ring between the rigid sectors were inflated by their interior air pressure. They consisted of several layers of textiles, which were airtight and very strong. If they were permitted to use some of the spare fabric, they could fashion a sphere with a diameter of one meter, and create an attachment piece for an oxygen valve.
“The fabric is too thick to sew,” Jiaying said. “We have to weld it.”
“Then we need welding equipment,” Martin replied.
“With an open flame. Are you crazy?” Jiaying exclaimed with an angry stare.
“No, no, not like that. It just has to get hot enough to melt the edges of the fabric together.”
“I can build something like that,” Hayato said. “I think we can solve this by using electricity. Thanks to the DFDs we have plenty of that.”
“We need permission from Earth for using the spare material,” Amy said. “But that shouldn’t be a problem. We should schedule an EVA for the day after tomorrow. It is time to look for larger holes anyways.”
Martin decided to visit Hayato after his shift. He had tried to suppress his guilty conscience for quite a while, but he hadn’t slept well for several days now. He did not announce his visit. He almost hoped he would not find Hayato in his cabin. However, after he knocked on the door, the voice of the Japanese man asked him in.
Martin hesitated briefly. Maybe I should have brought a present? Isn’t that the custom? Then he slid the door open. The cabin was a virtual replica of Martin’s, and it was also as neat and orderly. Hayato sat cross-legged on his bed, and Amy sat next to him. Martin abruptly jerked back. Should I just leave right away? His face felt hot.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Sorry.”
Hayato got up and shook his hand. “You aren’t disturbing us,” he said. Amy smiled at him and nodded. Martin formally shook her hand. To do this, he had to lean over her. Then he noticed her belly already seemed rounded.
“How’s the baby doing?” he asked.
Amy gave a broad smile. “Great,” she said. “Marchenko is very pleased, too.” She looked over at Hayato, who was sitting down again, and placed a hand on his knee.
The Japanese man gave Martin a cushion. “Take this. It makes that box into a very comfortable seat.”
The cabin was crowded. Martin thought the air was stuffy, even though it was no different from the atmosphere in the other modules. I feel like an intruder.
“Remember, I told you about Hayato’s daughter,” Amy said, and caressed her boyfriend’s thigh. “She is doing fine now.”
Hayato nodded. Martin saw Hayato’s eyes were getting watery. “She has found a good clinic, and she is happy she will have a sister,” he said.
“Or a brother,” Amy added. “And we are busy thinking about names for the baby.”
Hayato smiled. “We are very grateful all of you support us so much,” he said, and it was obvious this was not just an empty phrase. Martin remembered the voting procedure. Even if Amy had cast both of her votes for the abortion, at least one more crew member had been against the baby. Who was it? Was this important, though? He shook his head.
“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Martin said. “I actually just wanted to see how you—how both of you—were doing. I’m sorry I haven’t shown up for such a long time.”
Hayato got up and touched Martin’s shoulder.
“It is good, just the way it is,” he said, and Martin believed him.
August 9, 2046, ILSE
Martin had not slept well the previous night, and this time he knew the reason for it. The commander had scheduled a spacewalk for today, an EVA. He shuddered to remember his first excursion, back on Tiangong-4. Martin suffered from vertigo. When he had tried to walk along a ten-meter-wide mountain ridge, the others laughed at him because he was obviously very scared. On the outside of the spaceship he would always be only a few steps away from the deepest abyss of them all. Back then, he had asked the trainers what he could do to counteract this fear, but they only laughed and said “nothing.” He just would have to get used to it—and I should definitely get in the habit of trying not to look down. In space, everywhere was down, and if Martin only focused on the spaceship he might endanger his buddy, the colleague who went on the EVA with him.
At least Willinger had managed to give him a good piece of advice that sounded so simple he initially did not believe it would work. “It is your own decision where up and down are. Imagine you are stuck in a deep, black shaft. You are at the bottom, so why should you feel dizzy?” This advice had actually saved Martin’s ass on the Tiangong station.
Before a spacewalk, the doctors had ordered a lot of sweating. Martin sat on the stationary bicycle, wearing only a diaper and a breathing mask, and pedaled as fast as he could. Ten minutes was the target time, during which he breathed pure oxygen. Next to him Jiaying was pedaling, wearing a sports bra in addition to the diaper. The physical exertion helped to remove nitrogen from the blood, which might bubble up in the low pressure of the space suit, causing the dangerous reaction known as ‘the bends.’ During the several hours that the spacewalk would last, he could relieve himself in the diaper—which NASA called a MAG, or ‘Maximum Absorbency Garment’—and afterwards, too, as he could not simply return at once to normal air pressure. The display of the stationary bike blinked, meaning he was allowed to get off.
Since he did not want his other colleagues to see him half-naked and wearing a diaper—if Willinger had been here, he would have uttered his raucous laugh—Martin had brought his LCVG, or ‘Liquid Cooling and Ventilation Garment’ into the fitness room. Made of Spandex, this form-fitting suit would keep him cool in space. Initially he had a hard time believing how important this was. Without the cooling provided by the water-carrying tubes integrated into the LCVG, he would gradually heat up like in a microwave. In the vacuum of space his spacesuit could only release heat by radiation, which was a slow process. His body, though, generated a lot of heat every second, particularly during movement. If the energy supply for the spacesuit failed, he would not freeze in the coldness of space, but rather suffocate in his own sweat.
The spacesuit itself consisted of two parts. Martin, wearing a mask and an oxygen tank in addition to the LCVG, moved toward the airlock in the stern of the ship. This small, almost spherical module contained the exit the astronauts must use for their spacewalk. It was closed off from all other rooms, so only the air in this room was lost when they exited. In front of the airlock, Hayato and Amy were waiting. They were there to help them put on the LTA, or ‘Lower Torso Assembly,’ the lower part of the suit made of thick layers of fabric. Inside the spacesuit, the pressure was only half of that on Earth, although
the suited astronauts would breath pure oxygen.
“Airlock ready,” Watson said after about 50 minutes.
This was technically incorrect, because it was the astronauts who were now ready to enter the exit chamber. Here they found their HUT, or ‘Hard Upper Torso,’ sections consisting of fiberglass and ending in their helmets. The arms, individually sized for each astronaut, were already attached, so only the gloves were needed. While Martin and Jiaying put on the HUTs and attached cables and wires, Watson closed the hatch toward the ship and then reduced the interior pressure of the airlock to about two thirds.
Martin was nervous. I already feel my bladder, which is much too early. The spacesuit had turned him into a mini-spaceship. In front of his chest he had the toolbox of the mini-workstation. On his back was a SAFER, or ‘Simplified Aid For EVA Rescue,’ the space jet designed to save his life if he ever forgot the basic rule of any EVA—always attach a new safety wire connection before removing the old one. He had practiced this many times and knew which buttons he had to press when, but he still felt uneasy. Jiaying, on the other hand, seemed to be cheerful. Maybe she enjoyed the change of pace. She certainly was smiling and even started to tell stories from her school days. Martin wasn’t really listening, but she did not seem to mind.
When will we finally get started? he wondered, as he restlessly chewed on the drinking tube. The mission would only commence once they had breathed oxygen for thirty minutes, but that wasn’t so bad. It used to take longer. Willinger had once told him about the first model of this series, the Z2. Back then, NASA often made the EVA candidates spend the night in the airlock to get them used to the lower air pressure. The Z6, which had been in use for ten years now, reduced the risk of getting the bends, as it allowed for a higher air pressure.
“Pre-breathing phase finished,” Watson reported. The AI could not open the lock itself—that was left to the crew. There were still scientists who thought a rebellion of the machines possible, even though it should have happened a long time ago, according to predictions. Due to such concerns, Martin had to turn the wheel himself. He looked at the to-do list on the multi-display on his right arm, which showed him what to do and in what order. The pressure in the airlock had already been lowered to a minimum, yet he still felt a breeze, a slight force pulling his arms outward.
He attached his safety line at the exit and then released the hook connecting him to the interior wall of the airlock. Jiaying watched him doing it. Then he gave himself a slight push and floated with his feet first through the round hole in the direction of space. He slowed himself down with his hands before the line was taut. There is no place for experiments in space. I know the metal wire will stop me, but I do not want to test it. He moved his feet close to the hull where there were special places he could latch his boots into. Martin looked around and decided on one horizon. It seemed much easier for him to find his orientation far away from Earth. During the training EVAs from the space station, Earth had always floated above him as a giant disc. That looked impressive, but it confused his spatial perception. Here he could only see the sun, considerably smaller than it appeared from Earth, as well as the ship moving away from it. The sunlight cast harsh shadows. There was only black and white, bright and dark, without any intermediate hues. He did not get to appreciate the much-praised silence of space during this excursion. The devices in his space suit made noise that reached his ear via the air he breathed, as body-borne sounds.
Once he stood, Martin gave Jiaying a sign. His colleague chose a different horizon. She stood slanted, and this looked strange from his perspective. The on-board computer had calculated an optimal path for both of them that would allow them to finish their task in the shortest time. The computer on Martin’s arm showed him the way both visually and through vibration. Every two or three steps he secured himself anew by attaching the hook to the next lug.
The spaceship bore little resemblance to the elegant creations he was used to seeing in science fiction movies. ILSE was a seemingly unsystematic conglomeration of modules of various kinds. A few meters behind them the ring was rotating majestically—at a surprisingly slow speed. In front of it were the lab and the communication module. If Martin wanted to inspect these sections, the rotation of the ring would have to be stopped first. There was no reason to do that at this time, though, because the critical impacts were concentrated on the stern module. The holes were only ‘critical’ in so far as the spider robots had classified them as potentially dangerous. They had been sealed, but whether these spots were now safe must be decided by humans—by Jiaying and himself. For this purpose, they carried a special tool that looked like a toilet plunger attached to their belts. Instead of a handle, it was threaded onto a pipe with a hose at the other end, connected to a nitrogen tank.
Martin looked at the display on his arm. The next damaged spot must be right behind the dish of the main antenna. He placed his footsteps carefully. The spider robot seems to have done good work. In the light of his helmet lamp, Martin only recognized the hole by its different color, but he had a job to do. He placed the plunger on the repaired spot. Its material bonded with the hull thanks to special glue that hardened within seconds. Then Martin latched his boots to the ship and pressed hard against the plunger. Martin felt an adrenaline rush as he thought of what might happen if the material of the plunger separated from the ship. He reached for his safety line and gave it a short pull. Okay, I will not float away after all.
A reassuring sound in his helmet told him the repaired spot withstood the pressure, and the hole was now considered secure. The situation had never yet occurred when the robots had failed to properly close an impact area. Nevertheless, they had to regularly check them. This was shown by the leftover plunger parts that covered the hull, resembling pimples. Martin twisted the pipe to detach it and placed another plunger on its end. His handheld device showed him the way—only five more steps. While doing this he noticed many other considerably smaller holes the spider robot had filled and secured without reporting them.
What would happen if such a fragment came flying at me right now? Martin moved his gloves across the upper part of his spacesuit. It felt sturdy, though it would protect him much less effectively than the ship’s hull did. Then he adjusted the cooling system because he was now shivering. The routing algorithm had led him to the storage containers on the left side. He arrived first, as Jiaying obviously had to check on a few more repairs. The computer knew where the T-shirts for the cloth diapers were located. All supplies were stored in boxes that could be easily taken out. They did not have to worry how much things weighed, as the supplies were weightless out here, like they were themselves. I have to consider the inertia with particularly heavy items, but that should not be a problem today. Martin looked for the number indicated on his display and took out the matching cube-shaped metal container. He moved three steps to his left to pick up a second container. He simply attached them both to his belly strap.
“Commander to EVA team, I can see you are progressing well. I don’t want to rush you, but Mission Control has predicted a solar flare for fifteen hundred hours.”
Martin looked at the time on the display. Jiaying beat him to it.
“Three hours from now! It’s going to be pretty tight.”
Jiaying was obviously worried about the solar storm.
“I have already complained about that,” Amy said. “Space weather is very apologetic. The flare started from the other side of the sun, which could not be seen from Earth at that moment. It slipped through their fingers. They only noticed it when the magnetometer of the Mars Orbiter went haywire.”
“They only noticed it at the orbit of Mars?” Jiaying’s voice sounded higher than usual.
“It appears so. It is not that easy since this thing is invisible once it separates from the sun—at least it isn’t approaching us at the speed of light,” Martin explained.
“I don’t want to be roasted like a chicken.”
“No problem, we are
finished here,” he replied. Jiaying mumbled something in Chinese. They really did have enough time left. Even if the solar storm caught them in space, they would not notice it. One could only discover the charged, extremely fast particles by measuring magnetic fields and particle densities. Maybe the radio contact with the commander would exhibit more background noise. However, after the storm, their cancer risk would be notably increased. Anyway, who knew whether they would actually survive this mission? He calmly started his return trip.
Jiaying asked, “What about the decompression phase?”
She is right, Martin thought. They would have to breathe pure oxygen for a while before they could leave the airlock. In the pressure chamber they would be almost as unprotected against the solar storm as they were out here.
Martin tried to reassure her. “One hour, Jiaying, only one hour. We’ve got more than enough time.”
The Chinese woman reached the bulkhead before he did. She intended to swing her feet in, follow with her lower body, and let go of the edge of the hatch. Instead, her momentum moved her away from the spaceship toward the depths of space. Surprised, Jiaying screamed into the microphone. Martin watched calmly as her line unrolled. After five meters, her safety wire would stop her.
“Stay calm,” he heard Amy say on the radio.
But the safety line did not stop her. Jiaying had disregarded the most basic rule in her haste, and she had failed to hook the line. The unconnected carabiner bounced against the frame of the bulkhead and then moved away from the ship, centimeter by centimeter. Everything would have happened in frightening silence if not for Jiaying’s heavy breathing sounds in his helmet radio. Martin could feel her panic, and he noticed how it infected him. The slow movement with which his fellow astronaut moved away from the ship looked harmless, but nothing could stop her now. The umbilical cord had snapped.
Ice Moon 1 The Enceladus Mission Page 13