by R Davison
The shuttle crossed the terminator between night and day and it majestically reflected the brilliant sunlight off its white tiles. Damaged or not, the ship still exhibited grace and elegance as it flew through the sunlight at more that seventeen thousand miles an hour. Soon though, the shuttle would be dwarfed and out-shone by the space station in all of its unrestrained glory. The station was already shining brilliantly on the horizon directly in the path of Endeavour.
XII
Ivan settled himself into the pilot’s seat on the right side of the flight deck and scanned the controls as Susan took her place in the commander’s seat on the left. Paul, Alexander and Nicholas floated behind them on the aft flight deck. Jerry was still holed up in his sleeping compartment having rebuffed Paul’s efforts to have him join everyone on the flight deck. The shuttle was about twenty minutes from its rendezvous with the station, and it was time to start to fine-tune the approach.
Even at this distance, the station looked huge. Its large solar arrays reflected the sunlight making it look more like a mini-star than a space station. The crew could only make out gross details of the structure as the station beamed the sun’s rays at them; only after the shuttle moved out of the direct path of the reflected rays could they make out the entire complex. Even though it was large, it still presented an image of an extremely delicate structure, something more like a work of stained glass art that might hang in a museum and would shatter if handled too roughly. The purplish-blue solar arrays projected out from the station like petals of a flower. Tying the arrays and modules together was a main truss and spars that resembled the web of a mechanical spider that could only weave its sticky web in straight lines. This collection of steel, aluminum and silicon could never support itself on the surface of Earth, but in orbit, in the realm of micro-gravity, it was sturdy enough. To the crew and passengers of Endeavour, it was an oasis in the middle of a very harsh desert.
“What a sight for sore eyes,” Susan commented.
“Yes, indeed,” Ivan replied. Turning to the cosmonauts behind him he asked, “You have never seen the station in person, have you?”
“No, only in pictures,” Alexander responded. “They, of course, did not do it justice.”
“Well comrades, I think you may find it has a bit more room than MIR had,” Ivan added.
“More room, yes, but more character than MIR? I am not so sure!” Captain Zuyev teased with a big smile.
“What character? It has a shower! Did MIR have a shower?” Ivan tossed out as he focused on the instrumentation to prepare for the docking maneuver.
The station was rapidly getting larger as they closed the distance. Ivan gradually slowed the shuttle’s forward momentum until they were merely crawling at a few feet per second. Everyone searched the station for signs of damage, not knowing if it had escaped the deadly plume of debris that had ravaged Endeavour and MIR. Ivan very slowly and precisely eased the shuttle around the station to observe it from all angles. Everything looked normal from what they could see. All the solar panels were intact and the modules that made up the core of the station still looked like new. Once everyone was comfortable with what they saw, Ivan continued with the docking maneuver.
Slowly and very methodically, Ivan brought the shuttle in closer to the docking port on Node 3 in the center of the station, off the U.S. Habitation module. The CRV was docked to the same node and was just as they had left it. There was silence on the flight deck as Ivan eased the shuttle in closer under the massive structure. Susan called out distance and velocity numbers as they glided into position under the docking port. With all forward momentum stopped, Ivan then moved to the aft flight deck to use the docking controls for the final maneuver that would mate Endeavour to the International Space Station. Paul, Alexander and Nicholas shuffled about to make room for Ivan and to attentively watch the last stage of the docking process. Susan sat holding her breath, knowing that the consequences of not being able to dock with the station would seal their fate. With a slight thump and shudder the shuttle engaged the docking port and with one more push from the thrusters, the docking clamps locked in place. Endeavour was now part of the station again. Susan began to breathe again.
The tension on the flight deck melted in a collective sigh of relief with the last sound of the docking clamps engaging and with the positive indication of a successful docking by the instruments. Alexander and Nicholas applauded Ivan’s piloting skills and gave him a hefty pat on the back that almost sent him careening into the control panel.
“Well done, Ivan,” Susan said. “You’ll always be able to get a job as a chauffer after you leave the space program if you keep up your skills.”
“I got most of my experience parallel parking in Moscow when I was younger,” Ivan replied with grin.
“Well, gentlemen, let’s see if the mice are home,” Susan said as she floated though the hatch to the middeck. Ivan, Paul and the two cosmonauts followed Susan’s lead and headed toward the airlock, which would lead them to the station. To their surprise they found the hatch to the airlock open and Jerry already inside.
“Jerry! What are you doing?” Susan yelled into the airlock.
“We’re here. Let’s get this over with and go home,” came Jerry’s muffled reply.
“Jerry, you can’t just waltz right in! There are proper procedures that need to be followed before…” Susan did not finish her sentence before they all heard the whoosh of air as the pressure between the shuttle and the station equalized when Jerry opened the docking hatch door to the station. “Damn you, Jerry!” Susan spat as she pushed her way into the airlock after Jerry.
By the time Ivan and the rest of the group got into the station they found Jerry in the Habitation module rummaging through the food lockers for something to eat, while Susan chewed him out for breaking protocol on entering the station. He seemed totally oblivious to her ranting and raving and proceeded to munch on a snack bar he found.
“I want you out of my way and to keep your hands off everything!” she shouted. “Is that clear?”
“I hear you,” Jerry mumbled with his mouth full. “When are we leaving the station?”
“When I say so! Not a moment sooner!” Susan stormed out of the galley past the others who, taken by surprise by Susan’s ferocity, floated there dumbfounded.
Susan was halfway through the next module when the dim lighting made her realize that the station was still in a standby mode to conserve power. They would have to power up the station and bring all the systems online before they could contact someone on Earth. She floated silently in the module and tried to calm down and compose herself before she returned to the galley to get the rest of the crew. The station felt humongous compared to the shuttle’s cramped quarters and with everyone in the galley it was a little spooky moving around the dark, empty station by herself. The original crew of three astronauts evacuated the station earlier due to a virus that had incapacitated them and forced them to take the Soyuz capsule and return to Earth. Susan’s shuttle mission brought the CRV to the station, which would allow the station to come to its maximum crew compliment of seven people, instead of just the three that the Soyuz capsule could evacuate. They were supposed to come on board with the next shuttle launch in a month, but now that was not to be.
Susan contemplated the piece of human technology she floated in. Destiny, the lab module built by the United States, had carefully fitted racks of instruments and computers, displays and gauges, which all seemed to be staring back at her, waiting for her to bring them to life. The air in the room had a warm, stale smell to it. Susan smiled with the thought of how nice it would be to open a window and let in some fresh air. She could hear the occasional electronic beep from some piece of equipment that diligently kept on working when everyone left.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light she began to make out more details in the room around her. There were stations with glass booths, some that were in complete disarray, as if the operator had just dropped everything and
fled. Other stations were very neat and clean, appearing as if they had never been used. Next to one station, someone had pasted a photo of a dog sleeping by a glowing fireplace. Susan floated over to the photo and carefully caressed it, trying to draw some comfort from the two-dimensional animal. She felt nothing, but smiled with the thoughts of the many pets she had throughout her childhood, how they brought her comfort when she was sad and lonely. Her warm thoughts faded as she looked about the room and saw Ivan floating toward her from the direction of the galley.
“I hope I did not startle you,” Ivan said in a quiet voice.
“No. I saw you coming.”
“I did not hear anything after you left the galley and was becoming concerned that something might be wrong.”
“I’m okay. I got this far and realized that we had to power up the station. Actually, I was headed back to get you to help me with that.”
“Sure, I will head up to Zvezda and begin the power-up procedure.”
“Thanks. Where are the rest?”
“They are talking with Jerry for the moment.”
“Jerry’s talking to Alexander and Nicholas? That’s a surprise. I didn’t think Jerry would say more than hello to them.”
“Well, they thought that they could keep him occupied while I went to look for you and I guess they found something in common to talk about. It is actually more like they and Paul are talking and Jerry is ignoring them.”
Susan and Ivan floated through the lab module and on to Zvezda. Ivan quickly located the checklist to bring the station online and reviewed it with Susan. It took a few minutes to locate the proper control panels, and after about ten minutes the environmental control system was brought up to full capacity. A few minutes later, the lights in all the modules were activated along with the computers, communication equipment and other electronic systems. Ivan studied the readout on a computer display that gave the station’s status. Susan joined him at the console.
“Everything looks fine,” Ivan said to Susan, as she hovered beside him. “All systems are nominal, and there are no fault indications showing.”
“Good! Let’s hope it stays that way. What is the fuel status for the booster engine?” Susan asked. She noted to herself how the air had lightened from the warm, odorous atmosphere she encountered in the Destiny module. She enjoyed the coolness of the air currents that were caressing her face as she hovered beside Ivan.
“Let me see, that should be under this menu here,” Ivan said as he reached out his finger to the touch-sensitive display. Instantly, the display changed presenting a new list of information, including one entry that said: FUEL RESERVES. Ivan touched the appropriate location and the screen changed again, but this time it presented them with a colorful graphic showing the fuel status of the booster engine and each of the steering thrusters on the station. The display indicated one hundred percent reserves for the main engine and no less than ninety-five percent for the thrusters.
“Why are you interested in the fuel status?” Ivan finally asked.
“We need to boost the station up as far as we can, as soon as possible.”
“Do you really feel that is necessary? We won’t be here that long.”
“We don’t know how long we will be on the station, and according to the numbers we have about six hours before we will hit the debris clouds. The longer we wait and stay at this altitude, the worse our chances are that we will encounter some of the junk that was thrown into orbit by the asteroid.”
“You know that this is not going to go over very well with Jerry.”
“Yes, I know. I thought about that. He will just have to get used to the idea. We can’t risk everyone by just jumping into the CRV and de-orbiting, it’s going to follow a preprogrammed flight path and who knows where that is going to take us. We have to establish contact with ground control to find out what the real situation is like down below and we’ll need information as to where we can set down. We’ll also need to map the location of the orbital debris cloud as well as the debris plumes that exist in the atmosphere before we can leave in the CRV. We don’t want to pass through all that dirt coming in on reentry.”
“It all makes sense to me and you, but I am afraid that Jerry is going to be very hard to convince at this time,” Ivan said, as he pressed the display again and brought up a new screen showing the status of the batteries and solar arrays. He pointed out to Susan how the display showed the current state of charge on the battery banks and the amount of power being generated by the solar arrays.
“Are we ready to phone home?” Susan asked moving over to the communications station.
“Everything is up and running. Station status is all green,” Ivan replied as he floated over to Susan.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Susan brought up the frequency display for the communication system and selected the frequency for Mission Control in Houston.
Ivan looked at the display, then back at Susan. Hesitantly he said, “Susan, they probably will not respond from Houston.”
“I know,” she replied in a resigned voice, “I thought I would give them a try just in case. You know, always hoping for the best.”
“Mission Control, this is Commander Susan Corin on board the International Space Station. Do you copy?”
The speakers spewed static in response to her call. Susan stared at the floor as she resigned herself to the fact that Houston probably did not exist anymore. She turned to Ivan, “Maybe you should just try to contact the Russian control center.”
“Okay,” Ivan punched in the frequency code for the Russian counter part of NASA’s Mission Control in Korolev, a city located about five hundred miles southeast of St. Petersburg. This facility was established specifically to work with the International Space Station. Taking the microphone from Susan, he proceeded to identify the station and himself in Russian and waited for a reply. They were treated to the same hiss of static as they received before. Ivan and Susan looked at each other in bewilderment.
Ivan tried again, and for a second time he was rewarded with static. Susan took the microphone, cleared her throat and said, “This is Commander Susan Corin of the shuttle Endeavour on board the International Space Station. Do you copy Korolev?” She avoided looking at Ivan and again spoke into the small microphone, “Korolev control, this is Commander Susan Corin of the shuttle Endeavour on board the Interna…”
She did not finish her second call before she was cut off by a burst of noisy confusion coming out of the speaker. A conglomerate of Russian voices shouting intermingled with American words and what sounded like papers shuffling and chairs tumbling over. Finally the noise quieted down and a somewhat harried Russian-tainted, English-speaking voice popped out of the speaker, “This is Korolev control center…Ahh, please repeat your message.”
Susan’s pulse was racing, and she could feel her heart beating in her chest as she tried to calmly repeat her message for the third time. Her voice trembled a bit as she got the last words out. She took a few deep breaths while she waited for a reply from the other end of the communications link.
More noise, hushed voices, and chaos emanated from the speaker. Susan gave Ivan a questioning look and spoke into the microphone again. “Korolev, did you copy?”
“Ah, this is Korolev control center…we, ah…we copy you?”
Susan looked at Ivan, who could only shrug his shoulders in response.
“Whom am I speaking to?” Susan asked in a slightly sharper voice.
After a few seconds of silence, the speaker crackled, “This is Christopher Kirovski.”
More silence as Susan waited for something more to come out of the speaker.
“Christopher Kirovski,” Susan inquired.
“Yes?”
Susan was losing her patience and looked to Ivan for some support. She quickly realized that he was enjoying her dilemma by the big smile on his face and would be of no help to her now.
“Christopher Kirovski, who are you and what do you do at the center?”
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“I am the assistant to the communications technician.”
“Oh,” Susan replied with a bit of surprise. “Why are you talking to me?”
“Ah…You called us, remember?” Christopher asked in earnest, his voice now betraying his youth.
“No! I mean why are you talking to us and not the Duty Officer, or whoever is in charge there?”
“I was the only one here who understands and speaks English. Everyone else has gone home and is sleeping,” Christopher answered, adding, “It is about four o’clock in the morning here. Are you really on the station?”
If there were gravity pulling on Susan, it could not have pulled her shoulders any lower than they were at that moment. She suddenly felt a lot less hopeful than she did a few minutes ago. Ivan took the microphone and continued the discussion with Christopher in Russian. After a few minutes, he turned to Susan to explain.
“Apparently, since there was no crew on board the station, Korolev Control was running a skeleton crew to keep everything up and running as needed. Of course, the lowest man on the ladder gets the lowest job and our friend Christopher, along with some other apprentice technicians, were manning the graveyard shift.”
“Just our luck to get the B-team!” Susan said.
“Well, Christopher did say that the NASA representatives left for the States shortly after the news of the impacts. He said that the A-team would be on duty in a few hours.”
“He didn’t say that! Did he?” Susan asked with a pink glow of embarrassment in her cheeks.
“Not in so many words,” Ivan replied with a small chuckle.
Susan’s face turned serious, and she spoke quietly to Ivan. “Ivan, I don’t think we should wait on boosting the orbit of the station. Waiting two hours only leaves us four hours to raise the station’s altitude. That’s a little over two orbits to get to maximum altitude.”