“5 seconds,” said Jeff.
Abby nodded. “And 3, 2, 1…”
“Shutdown.”
“Ball valves…” said Gabe. “Barber poles.”
“Rog,” said Abby. “Pitch and yaw OFF.”
“Got it.”
“TVC servo power 1 and 2 OFF.”
“Got it.”
Jeff leaned back and sighed. “Well boys and girls, we’re in orbit around Mars.”
There was only silence, everyone apparently contemplating that statement.
He glanced around. “What? No comment?”
Abby shook her head. “I’m at a loss for words.”
“Gabe?”
She sat motionless, staring out the window.
“Um, Earth to Gabriel…”
She glanced at him. “Huh?”
“You alright?”
“Uh, yeah. What?”
“Where’s Balboa?”
“Um, hang on.” She brought up the Intercept display, then opened a video window and pointed a camera aft. “Dead astern.”
“Range?”
“Hold on, let me get the laser on it. Um, 937 meters.”
“Time to intercept?”
“51 minutes.”
“And how’s our orbit look?”
“Right where it should be. After we dock, minor trims at apoapsis and periapsis and it’ll be perfect.”
“Excellent.” He patted her hand. “Good job. Alright, Abby, get us turned around.”
“Roger that. Gabe, give me the Sundancer’s RCS.”
“Rog. Sundancer pitch, roll, yaw A & B armed.”
“Got it. CMC Mode, FREE?”
“Yes. No point in the CM RCS fighting to hold attitude while we’re trying to realign it.”
“Just asking. Okay, standby for 180 degree pitch rotation.”
“Okay, PROCEED.”
“Pitching. Gabe, I’m watching the pitch rate, let me know when you can see Balboa in the docking window.”
“Will do. Manual attitude pitch to Accel Command?”
“No, it went to Rate.”
“Figures. During Apollo it did the same thing during the LM transposition and docking maneuver.”
Abby chuckled. “Yeah, I read that book too. I’ll tell you, there were a few times when I wish I could have done this in a F/A-18.”
Jeff smiled. “Um, they don’t fly real well backwards, do they?”
“No, not really. Gabe, you see Balboa yet?”
“No. Oh, wait… there it is. Slow down.”
“Okay, I’ve got it in the crosshairs.”
“Looks like you’re about four degrees left.”
“I see it. Hang on.”
“There!”
“Yeah, I got it. Okay, let’s stop here.”
Susan grumbled, “You two are going to drive me to drink.”
Jeff laughed. “Didn’t they do that a long time ago?”
“I stand corrected.”
He laughed again. “Yeah. Gabe, distance?”
“910 meters.”
“Time to intercept?”
Gabe growled. “About one minute less than the last time you asked.”
“Are you having a bad hair day?”
“No. It’s just that we’ve been sitting in here for over two hours and I’ve already wet my pants once, and am about to do so again.”
“Sorry I asked. We could speed this process up.”
“No. It’ll just waste RCS fuel.”
“Okay then, 50 minutes to docking. Everybody relax for a while.”
Abby leaned forward and looked out the window past Jeff and Gabe. “God that rock looks close.”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, it sure does.”
“I need a cigarette.”
“I’ve got a pack in my shirt pocket.”
She snapped her head toward him. “You do?”
“Yeah. Except that, um, I left that shirt on Earth.”
She punched him in the shoulder. “Nice going, idiot.”
“Sorry.”
Jeff stared intently at the video monitor as the image of the docking collar on Balboa’s storage module got bigger and bigger.
“It’s a little unnerving to just watch this on TV,” said Abby. “I’d rather have my hands on the controls.”
“Well, you’ve watched the auto-dock work before from the MCC.”
“Yeah, but it’s not the same. Watching it from the MCC, if it screws up it just wastes a billion dollars’ worth of hardware. If it screws up now, it wastes a billion dollars’ worth of hardware… and us.”
“Yeah. Eh, it’ll be fine. But keep a close eye on it anyway.”
“Thirty feet, half a foot per second.” said Gabe.
Jeff nodded. “Looks like it’s right on.” He glanced at Abby. “The computer’s approaches are a little slower than yours.”
“Yeah. Probably for the best.”
He chuckled. “I think it’s nervous. It knows you’ll rip its guts out if it screws up.”
“That’s a fact.”
“Gabe?”
“Twenty feet. Right on target.”
“Fifteen feet.”
“Ten feet.”
“Five feet.”
The forward RCS thrust light lit.
“Thrusting, and…”
There was a gentle bump.
“Contact.”
“Roger,” said Jeff.
“Soft dock.”
“Roger.”
“Engaging,” said Abby. “And… hard dock.”
Gabe started flipping switches on the instrument panel. “Docking Probe, Extend/Release, OFF. Retract, OFF. Circuit breakers, open. COAS power, OFF. Okay, we’re docked, and attitude is stable.”
“Good job everyone,” said Jeff. He unbuckled his harness and headed into the tunnel. “Everybody sit tight. Back in a minute.”
Gabe called after him. “It’ll take longer than that just to run diagnostics.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, back in ten minutes.” He muttered, “Nag, nag, nag.”
“I heard that.”
He chuckled. “Oops. Forgot I was on VOX. Sorry.”
“Just move it.”
“On my way.” He made his way through the aft airlock and the Sundancer to the forward airlock, to which Balboa’s storage module was now docked, and connected the umbilicals. “Gabe?”
“Yeah?”
“You should now have power and data.”
“Got it. Running diagnostics.”
“Rog. Abby, you getting set for MDS sep?”
“Working on it.”
“Rog.” He floated in the airlock, yawned, and scratched his forehead while waiting for Gabe.
“Are you bored?” said Susan.
He chuckled. “Um, after seven months in space this isn’t quite as dramatic as it was when we left Earth. I’m just looking forward to being done with this part and moving on to the next part.”
“Landing?”
“Yeah… that part.”
“Okay Jeff,” said Gabe, “diagnostics are good.”
“Rog. Fire off a status update to Newport; I’m on my way. I love it when things work right.”
“You’re not the only one.”
Emerging from the CM tunnel, Jeff glanced at Abby. “Ready?”
“As soon as you’re buckled up.”
“Roger that.” He swung into his couch and strapped in. “Alright then, standby for MDS sep.”
“Pyros A and B armed,” said Gabe.
“Rog. Alright Abby, nice and easy, and straight back. Let’s not be banging our lander into that booster chassis.”
“I’ve got it, relax. Okay, thrusting.”
“And, SEP. Gabe?”
“Yeah, they all fired. We’re free.”
“Excellent. Abby, you have Delta-V?”
“Yeah. 0.3… 0.5… 0.7, I’m gonna stop here.”
“Looking good. Gabe?”
“Twenty feet and opening. Looks good. Pyro bus A and B OFF, circuit br
eakers open. Abby, SM RCS propellant valves?”
“Eight gray. Guess that wasn’t as much of a jolt as the S-II sep.”
“Didn’t feel like it.”
“We’re gonna backup to, what was it? 20 meters?” said Jeff.
“Yeah,” said Gabe, “about that. You know, we really should have settled on either English or metric a long time ago.”
“Why? Can’t you think in both simultaneously?”
“Yes, but you can’t.”
He chuckled. “I don’t need to, I have you.”
“RCS?” said Abby.
“Yeah,” said Jeff, “you’ve got eight gray talk-backs.”
“Rog.”
“Manual Attitude Pitch to Accel Command?” said Gabe.
Abby nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”
“Alright then. PROCEED and… you’re pitching?”
“Yep, pitching.”
The ship slowly began to rotate on its axis.
Abby pointed to the upper display. “Gabe, can you give me the MDS docking camera up here, so I can see where the hell we are?”
“Yeah, here you go.”
“Thanks.”
Jeff frowned. “Um, Delta-V is minus 0.1 on the EMS.”
Abby shook her head. “That’s bullshit. Sucker’s lost its mind. What’s the GDC say?”
“Plus 0.7.”
“That’s more like it.”
He shook his head. “Gabe, why does it do that?”
“Oh god, can’t you remember anything?”
“Yeah, I can remember a lot. I just can’t remember everything. Refresh my memory.”
She sighed. “The Entry Monitoring System is just a single accelerometer here in the CM that works on one axis. We’re rotating, so it sees our motion as heading back toward the MDS because we’re not the center of gravity. The BMAGs, Body Mounted Attitude Gyros, are stabilized and sense a change in velocity in all three axes, and the Gyro Display Couplers, GDC, translate that to absolute attitude. But, they have a tendency to drift, which is why we have to realign the GDC before any maneuver, which I did.”
“Okay, I bow to the superior intellect.”
Gabe chuckled. “As well you should.”
Abby groaned. “You two want to shut up? I’ve got it.”
“You’re just about there, you have to…”
“I’ve got it, Gabe. Shut up.”
Jeff reached out and put his hands on both their shoulders. “Everybody just simmer down. Let’s get this done and move on.”
“Right about… there. Gabe?”
“Um, yeah, looks pretty good to me.”
“Are we static?”
“Uh huh.”
“Gabe, circuit breakers on the SPS helium valves open?” said Jeff.
“Yes, four of them.”
“Pitch and yaw circuit breakers open.”
“Open, four of them.”
“Rog. Firing that engine while it’s docked in the MDS would be… bad.”
“You think? Abby, you ready?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“Alright. MDS to DOCK.”
“DOCK.”
“Auto-dock ENABLE.”
“Got it.”
“MDS Alignment lasers to ON.”
“ON. Jeff?”
He glanced at the video image from the Mars Departure Stage docking camera. “Yeah, I see all three.”
“Okay, PROCEED.”
The RCS fired and the ship slowly began to back toward the Mars Departure Stage. They all stared at the image of the SPS nozzle on the aft end of the ship as it approached the MDS fairing. Abby shook her head. “You’d think we could have found a better way to do this.”
“We tried,” said Jeff, “but just couldn’t come up with one. Too many moving parts.”
“Really.”
Jeff held his breath as he watched the nine-foot-long seven-foot-diameter nozzle extension slip into the MDS fairing that had previously contained the lander. “Please don’t dent that thing.”
Abby shook her head. “Don’t look at me, the computer’s driving.”
“Jeff, breathe,” said Susan.
He let out a deep sigh and inhaled. “Sorry.”
“Contact,” said Gabe. “Docking lugs to ENGAGE.”
“ENGAGE,” said Abby. “And… hard dock.”
“Excellent,” said Jeff. “And that’s that, nothing to it. Just like the SIM.”
“Easy for you to say,” said Abby. “All you did was kibitz.”
“Hey, I’m the Mission Commander, kibitzing is my job.”
Gabe took his hand. “And you are very good at it.”
“Thank you.” He frowned. “I think.”
She grinned.
“Okay, Gabe, Abby, get us into orbital mode and fire off a status report to Newport. They’re probably wondering why we never write.”
“Rog,” said Abby, “working on it.”
“Gabe, how long to apoapsis?”
“Eleven hours, four minutes.”
“Roger dodger.” He got out of his harness, flipped over and folded his couch. “Okay, Sue, wake up, time to go to work.”
She let out an audible yawn and laughed.
“Come on, let’s get out of these suits and unpack the Mark IIIs.”
Abby rubbed her cheeks. “Boy, am I looking forward to gravity.”
“Yeah, you and me both. 50 hours and we’re on the ground.”
CHAPTER 20
Jeff pulled open the resupply storage module hatch. “Good grief. I’d forgotten how tightly packed this thing was.”
Susan peeked in and shook her head. “It’s like a tin of smoked oysters.”
“Yeah. Okay, why don’t you go over to the corner there, and I’ll toss these suits to you.”
“Alright.”
He pulled out their Mark III suits and, one at a time, tossed them across the commons to Susan, who then strapped them to the bulkhead.
She groaned. “Oh, they’re cold.”
“Yeah, well, this is a deep freeze. The heaters keep it at zero. Start opening them so they can warm up, I’ll be back in a second.” He ducked into the storage module.
“What are you getting?”
“You’ll see.” He checked the manifest on the bulkhead and located what he was looking for. “Sue, catch!” He tossed her a box.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
“Oh my god! Lobster tails, Blue Point oysters, cocktail sauce, and… frozen apple juice?”
Jeff swung back out of the storage module and closed the hatch. “Close. Lobster tails, Blue Point oysters, cocktail sauce, and… frozen wine.”
“Where did this come from?”
He frowned. “Um, Earth?”
She shook her head. “This was not on the manifest.”
“Sure it was, you just didn’t know it. I thought we’d have a nice supper tonight. Besides, it gives us something to use the last of our real butter on.”
She held up the bag of frozen wine. “I didn’t know you could freeze wine.”
“Sure. Not the best way to store it, but it should be fine.”
“What kind of wine?”
“2006 Chablis Vaudésir.”
“We’re going to drink Vaudésir through straws.”
He shrugged. “When in space…”
“Yes. And how are we going to cook them?”
“The lobster tails are already cooked. Barbecued, in fact. Just thaw ‘em and nuke ‘em.”
“What about the oysters?”
“Don’t need to cook them.”
“I thought oysters that had been frozen were only good for cooking.”
Jeff grinned. “Not if they were quick frozen in liquid nitrogen.”
She laughed. “Probably not an option available in most home kitchens.”
“Nah, probably not.”
Susan looked at the packages, then smiled softly at Jeff. “The last supper?”
He sighed. “Well, hopefully not.” He s
hrugged. “But it seemed like a good idea.”
She nodded.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016 (T plus 196 days)
Jeff watched the event timer. “3, 2, 1… shutdown.”
“Shutdown,” said Abby.
“Gabe?”
“Just a minute. Okay, um, 250 by 33,854 kilometers. Inclination, 14.35 degrees; right ascension, 257 degrees; latitude of periapsis, minus 12.74 degrees; eccentricity, 0.82168; orbital period, 1,480 minutes. Bang on.”
“Outstanding! Alright, ladies, closeout checklists. Let’s get on it, then get something to eat and some rest. In twenty-five hours we’re gonna put footprints on Mars, and we’ve got a busy week ahead of us.”
Abby drifted out of the truss. “Okay, CM’s closed out. Nothing left on but heat and comms.”
“Airlock?” said Jeff.
“Secured.”
“Okay. Guess it’ll be a while before we’re back in there.”
“Yeah, a while.”
“Where’s Gabe?”
“Bathroom.” She sniffed the air. “Sue, what are you cooking?”
“Dinner.”
“We’ve been up here for seven months and dinner’s never smelled like that. What is it?”
“I’m not going to tell you.”
“Oh god. Jeff and his surprises is bad enough, not you too.”
Susan chuckled and went back to her cooking.
Gabe popped out of the truss, sniffed, and gasped. “Oh my god, is somebody cooking lobster?”
Abby frowned at her.
“What?”
“Are you part hound?”
Gabe gave her a puzzled look. “No. I remember smells just I like remember everything else.”
Abby shook her head. “You know something?”
“What?”
“You’re weird.”
Gabe pulled up her sleeves, baring her sizable biceps. “Would you care to step outside?”
“No, not really.”
She grinned. “Alright then.” She floated to the kitchen and peeked in the microwave. “Oh my god, lobster tails?”
Susan nodded. “Yes. Now, get out of my way.”
“Those weren’t on the manifest.”
“I know.” She pointed at Jeff. “Talk to him.”
Gabe lurched around and looked at Jeff.
“What? If you don’t want yours, we can toss it out the airlock.”
She gasped. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Okay, then get out of Sue’s way, and let her cook.”
“Uh, yeah, okay.”
Fifteen minutes later they settled down to a supper of Blue Point oysters on a half shell, barbequed lobster tails, and potatoes with broccoli and cheddar cheese, the first non-rehydrated food they had had in seven months.
Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) Page 70