Vessel

Vessel Page 6

by Andrew J. Morgan

  Sally felt a million miles out of her depth, an imposter in a world that did not belong to her, or her to it. She swallowed the lump back down her throat and nodded.

  'I know this seems complicated, but you'll do just great. There's no need to rush into anything — in fact we want you to take your time, plan your methodology and do things slowly. You'll be returning to us in seven weeks. That'll give you plenty of time, and it'll probably be over before you know it.' He slapped his knees and stood. 'Well,' he said, his tune cheerful, 'I suggest you get plenty of rest this evening. I'll send someone to fetch you at zero eight hundred hours tomorrow morning.' He gave a nod and left the room.

  Sally looked at Gardner, who was staring out the window at Soyuz.

  'Have you been to space before?' she asked him. He looked back at her, all teeth.

  'Yes ma'am, I have.'

  'Please, call me Sally. How many times?'

  'Twice: TMA Four and TMA Eight.'

  'What's it like?'

  'Space? It's incredible, like nothing you've ever seen before. When you're out there, you feel like you could reach out and touch the hand of god.'

  Sally raised her eyebrows.

  'You believe in god?'

  'Yes ma— yes, Sally, yes I do.'

  'Why?'

  'When you've seen space with your own eyes — then you'll know why.'

  Chapter 7

  The fug of cigarette smoke hanging in the air made the dimly lit bar seem even darker. Aleks regarded his companion through stinging eyes, his untouched drink still sitting where the barmaid left it.

  'What are we doing here, Lev? My shift starts in four hours and I've not had any sleep from my last double. I've got a launch to do.'

  'I'm sorry to bring you out here at this time of night, but I needed to talk to you away from the ears of Star City.'

  'Is this about Bales?'

  Lev, his face old and tired under the lank shadows, gave the empty bar a cautious glance. He leaned in a little closer to Aleks, handing him a business card, which Aleks took and slipped into his pocket. Lev spoke in an urgent whisper: 'A journalist, Sean Jacob, called me and asked for some information.'

  Aleks frowned. This didn't sound good. 'Information? On what?'

  'On everything. On Bales, on Sally, on … the mission.' He cast another anxious glance over his shoulder. 'He was particularly interested in Gardner.'

  'Gardner?' Aleks said. 'The American astronaut?'

  'Yeah.'

  'Why?'

  'He didn't say. But he was very keen to iterate that any information I get on Gardner would be of great value to him.'

  Aleks felt uncomfortable, both physically and morally. He knew the walls had ears even a hundred miles out from Star City. 'You're not going to do it, are you?

  Lev looked distant for a second, before a sudden flash of mischief danced across his shadowy eyes.

  'I've got to do something. I can't let Bales get away with what he's doing to us.'

  'To you, Lev,' Aleks said, 'what he's doing to you. And what you intend on doing back is tantamount to treason.'

  'Treason? Treason?' Lev hissed, his voice raising a register as temper fought control. 'Getting that interfering American off Russian soil is the complete opposite of treason!'

  The flash flickered and died, and he leaned back in his chair, covering his face with his gnarled, working man's hands. When they retreated back to his lap, the expression they left was one of dismay.

  'I'm sorry,' he said. 'You’re a good friend to me, as good as any I've had, and I know that you're saying what you're saying because you want to protect me.'

  But … Aleks thought.

  'But this is something I've got to do, Aleks. There's something not right with this picture, I can feel it' — he thumped his chest with a balled fist — ' in here. Jacob knows it too. I need you to help me.'

  Aleks sighed. He knew in his heart and in his mind that his friend had beaten his sensibilities. They may have been craggy, emotionless relics on the outside, but deep within both of them beat an unbreakable friendship. It was a friendship that would get the better of him.

  'Alright,' he said.

  Colour washed into Lev's face as though Aleks had released a vital artery with that one word.

  'Thank you,' he said. 'Thank you.'

  Aleks said nothing, taking a sip of his drink instead.

  Chapter 8

  Getting the suit on felt like a lifetime ago.

  'T minus sixty seconds and counting,' Aleks' voice came over Sally's radio headset. 'How are you both feeling?'

  'Good. I'm good,' Gardner said. Pinned down by the harnesses and with the added restriction of her suit, Sally couldn't turn to see him even though he was sat right next to her.

  'Fisher?'

  'I'm fine,' she said, her own voice sounding distant and thin.

  'Good. Launch sequencing start.'

  Gardner: 'Timeline is good.'

  'We have internal separation of the first tower.'

  A shudder breached the tiny cylinder; Sally drew a sharp intake of breath. They were blind to the outside world, suspended fifty metres in the air and about to be forced into orbit at over ten thousand miles per hour.

  'Umbilical tower separation in progress.'

  'Copy that. T minus twenty seconds and counting.'

  A tremendous roar flooded the capsule, so loud it shook Sally in her seat. From the corner of her eye, Sally could see Gardner pressing buttons using a slender metal rod from his own restricted position. It didn't fill her with confidence to observe such a primitive tool being used on board such an expensive piece of equipment.

  'Ignition,' Aleks confirmed, and if the roar had been loud before, it was deafening now. The shaking was so violent that it made Sally's vision blur.

  'Second tower separated. Reaching maximum thrust. Lift off, we have lift off.'

  Sally squeezed her eyes tight shut. Through the shaking and noise, a pressure rose into her back, lifting her off the Earth's surface. She pictured the gap between the rocket and the ground — first small, growing larger by the second — then her mind took her to a dark place of veering trajectories and screaming voices. She did her best to push those thoughts away, but they hovered with frightening clarity on the backs of her eyelids.

  'Trajectory is nominal, flight speed is nominal, vibration is nominal. Everything's looking good.'

  'Telemetry nominal, combustion chamber pressure nominal. Stage one ignition successful. We're one minute into the flight.'

  'Pitch is good, roll is nominal.'

  The rocket continued accelerating. It was nothing like the centrifuge, nothing like Sally had ever expected, and with tremendous effort she opened her eyes. Light rushed in, and the horror of her imagination was washed away. It was really happening. She was really going to space. As the rocket rolled, her stomach squeezed into a new corner of her insides and was held fast by the gargantuan thrust that drove them on.

  'Seventy seconds into the flight. Flight is proceeding nominally.'

  'Ninety seconds.'

  'Stage one is continuing to operate nominally. Spacecraft is nominal.'

  'How are you doing, Fisher?'

  It took Sally a moment to realise that she had been spoken to, having lost who was talking to who in among the noise and vibration.

  'I'm fine.' She had to force the words out.

  'Good. Gardner?'

  'I'm feeling great.'

  'Excellent. One hundred and ten seconds. Stage one booster separation. Stage two core booster ignition.'

  A deep clunk, a groan, and the rocket unleashed a fresh burst of acceleration, pushing Sally even harder into her seat. She was glad Aleks didn't ask her how she was now, because she wouldn’t have been able to speak.

  'Vehicle stable. Stage two engines are stable.'

  The vibration calmed, and with a small jolt the shroud protecting the crew module was jettisoned. For the first time, through a tiny circular porthole, Sally could see the stars, u
nencumbered by the blanket of atmosphere cradling the planet. Up here they glowed brighter and sharper.

  'Launch shroud jettison is confirmed.'

  'Copy.'

  'One hundred and ninety seconds. One nine zero. Rocket structure parameters are nominal.'

  'Everything looks nominal. We're good.'

  The shaking had all but gone, but the pressure remained. Despite the excessive forces trying to squash Sally flat, a tiny flutter skipped in her stomach. She couldn't help but grin. She was in space; she was going to the ISS. It was amazing.

  'Two hundred and fifty seconds. Roll is nominal. Stage two core booster separation. Third stage ignition.'

  'Stage three engines nominal.'

  'Copy.'

  'Three hundred and twenty seconds. Structural parameters are nominal.'

  Gardner continued prodding buttons with his stick. Sally was impressed by how calm he'd been. If he felt nervous, neither his voice nor his actions revealed it.

  'Third stage engines are stable.'

  'Four hundred seconds, four zero zero. Everything is nominal.'

  'Copy, loud and clear.'

  'Four hundred and thirty seconds, four three zero.'

  'Still with us, Fisher?'

  'I sure am. Feeling great!'

  She let out a whoop. Probably against protocol, but what did she care?

  Gardner laughed. 'That's the spirit.'

  'Five hundred seconds. Glad you're having fun, Fisher. Pitch and roll nominal.'

  'Separation.'

  'Copy, third stage separation.'

  Progress, now stripped of the rocket that launched it, had reached a stable velocity of 13,421 miles per hour. The number had seemed meaningless in books and on the internet, but now it made perfect sense. As the ferocious g-forces abated, an invisible hand pushed up through her abdomen, a sensation that reminded her of driving over a humpback bridge too fast.

  'We're standing by for docking proximity to the International Space Station,' Aleks said. 'That'll be in about six hours. Congratulations Progress M Eighteen M, and thank you for a great flight.'

  'Copy, speak soon, and thank you,' Gardner replied. 'Phew. Quite a flight, huh, Sally?'

  'You're telling me,' she said. The repeated realisation of where she was gave her sparks of excitement, making her grin with uncontrollable glee. It gave her a strange feeling of alertness, a new level of being that buzzed through her core. She was glad Gardner couldn't see her face, because she was probably pulling some ridiculous expressions. 'What do we do now?'

  'We sit and wait. Progress will automatically deploy all its sensors and antennas, make a few changes to the pitch and roll. All we need to do is kick back for six hours and wait to dock with the ISS.'

  'As easy as that? Don't you have to dock us yourself?'

  'Nope. Automatic.'

  'How much do they pay you?'

  Gardner laughed. 'I'm not here for when it goes right.'

  Gardner's words hung like a sour mist in the fresh silence. Sally remembered what Bales had said about the crew of the ISS, that she might need protection from them. Unease doused her elation. Gardner must have picked up on her dipping mood, because he fired up a different conversation altogether.

  'So, you're a communications expert, right?'

  'Yeah.'

  'The best?'

  'Apparently.'

  'Well, for a communications expert you sure are difficult to communicate with…'

  Gardner laughed at his own joke; Sally didn't. 'I didn't mean anything by it,' he said. 'Just a bit of humour. That's all.'

  Sally gazed out at the moving stars, watching each burn with more brilliance than the last. 'What do you think's waiting for us there?'

  'At the ISS? Some folks who'll be pleased for some new company I expect. Being an astronaut is lonely business, even when you're with others. Some spend years at a time up here.'

  'Coming back to Earth must be strange after that long.'

  'That's what they say.'

  'What's the longest you've stayed up here for?'

  Gardner thought about it for a moment. 'Six months, I think it was. Yeah, six months.'

  'How did you find it when you came back?'

  'It was hard to walk what with all the muscular atrophy,' Gardner said, chuckling.

  'No, I mean, how did you find it mentally? You said you found god up here. Did that change who you were when you came back?'

  Gardner stayed silent.

  'Is that why you haven't been up here for so long?'

  'I don't know what you mean.'

  'Come on — TMA Eight was seven years ago. What happened? Why are you up here with me now?'

  'What use are all these questions? We're up here now. Nothing's going to change that.'

  Realising that six hours was a long time and that it wasn't the best idea to cross the man sent to protect her, Sally stopped asking questions, even as they continued to burn a hole in her mind. Before long, Gardner was back to his usual chirpy self, laughing and joking about any and every subject — except the mission. He may have been avoiding the topic, but it was all Sally could think of.

  * * *

  'Jacob here.'

  'Sean! How did the launch go? Got anything for me?'

  The muffled voice coming from the satellite phone was difficult to make out, but not impossible.

  'She was on board, I know it.'

  'So you were right. Well done. What proof do you have?'

  'They flew her in yesterday. She's got to be on board.'

  'What's NASA saying?'

  'Well, NASA's still talking about some kind of space storm. They're denying Sally's involvement completely.'

  'And you don't believe them?'

  'Hell, no. Why send a communications expert — from SETI no less — to look at some space weather?'

  'Why indeed.'

  'And not only that, but guess who they've got going up with her?'

  'I give up. Who?'

  'Robert Gardner.'

  'Of TMA Eight?' the satellite phone said, after a pause.

  'The very same.'

  * * *

  Sally attempted to shuffle in her seat, but the harnesses restricted even the slightest movement.

  'Are you uncomfortable?' Gardner asked.

  'I'm fine. I just need to … go.'

  'Then go. You've got your MAG on. They don't call it maximum absorbency for nothing.'

  Sally wrinkled her nose at the thought. She may have been wearing a diaper, but she sure as hell wasn't going to use it.

  'If it's any help,' Gardner said, 'I've been in mine.'

  'That's disgusting. How long until we reach the ISS?'

  'About three-quarters of an hour.'

  'I'll wait, thanks.'

  She curled her toes, trying to think of anything but the need to urinate. The feeling passed, and before she knew it Aleks' voice came crackling over the radio.

  'Progress M Eighteen M, TsUP. First stage of docking approach underway, range, three zero zero zero metres. How are you doing?'

  'Copy TsUP. We're both doing great,' Gardner responded. 'Switching to docking camera.'

  Gardner reached with his metal rod and pushed a button on the instrument panel. A small screen illuminated. In the middle was the ISS, a white smear against the blackness of space.

  'Viewfinder looking good. Approach is nominal.'

  The white smear grew bigger, consuming the screen a pixel at a time.

  'Range, one thousand metres, one zero zero zero. Engaging Kurs automated rendezvous sequence.'

  'Copy.'

  The smear, which had been drifting down, veered back to centre. As it did, a flash of white enveloped the screen, falling back to nothing but grinding static.

  'TsUP, TsUP, loss of visual, repeat, loss of visual.'

  A trace of nerves strained Gardner's voice.

  'Copy, loss of visual. Standby.'

  Sally realised that the pulsing noise coming through the headset wasn't coming through
the headset at all; it was coming from her head, as blood flushed through at an ever-rising rate. The seconds ticked by as minutes, each one further from home.

  'Progress M Eighteen M, we've lost all visual down here too. Kurs downlink failed. Proceed to manual rendezvous sequence.'

  Gardner's response was slow.

  'Copy.'

  Sally watched from the corner of her eye as Gardner stretched out to reach two small nipple-like joysticks. He craned his head down as far as the harness would let him.

  'Visual on the periscope good. Range looks to be about five hundred metres, five zero zero. I — wait …'

  He paused, straining hard against the harness to see into the optical viewfinder. 'I can see it …'

  His voice had taken a flat tone, emotionless and dry.

  'Confirm visual — what can you see, Gardner?'

  'I'm not — I don't know. It's hard to describe.'

  He shook his head, as if breaking himself from a trance.

  'TsUP,' he said, his voice somewhat closer to normal, 'can you give me the docking location of TMA Ten M?'

  'Copy. Standby.'

  'What is it?' Sally asked, the words coming from her mouth without her realising. When they crackled in her own headset, it startled her.

  'I'm not sure.'

  'Progress M Eighteen M, TsUP. TMA Ten M is docked at MRM Two. You should have a visual.'

  'I — I don't. It's not there.'

  'Please repeat.'

  'TMA Ten M … it's not there, repeat, not there.'

  The urgency in Gardner's voice elicited a pause from Moscow.

  'Proceed with rendezvous. Dock with MRM One.'

  Gardner took a breath loud enough to be heard on the radio. 'Permission to abort,' he said, his voice wavering.

  A new voice came on the radio. Bales'.

  'Negative. Permission denied. Proceed with rendezvous.'

  'But —'

  'Gardner — proceed with rendezvous. That's an order.'

  Gardner sunk back into his seat.

  'Copy.'

  'You'll be fine.'

  A crackle, and Aleks returned to the conversation.

  'Uh, Progress, please confirm range.'

 

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