Rocket Girls

by Housuke Nojiri

  Matsuri sprang to her feet. “Hoi, Mukai. How soon can our third rocket fly?”

  “That’s right—we have another rocket!”

  The SSA had prepared three LS-5A boosters for this mission: Pathfinder, Tampopo, and a third still on its side in the VAB waiting to be assembled.

  Mukai ran the numbers through his head. “Forty…no, twenty-four hours should do it.”

  “But the capsule will only hold one person,” said Director Nasuda. “We can’t use it to perform a rescue.”

  “Sure we can,” said Matsuri. “We just have to launch it empty for a rendezvous with Yukari.”

  “It might work, but we don’t have twenty-four hours. Yukari’s life support will only last another eight—maybe twelve if we’re careful.”

  “But she could use the liquid oxygen for the fuel. She can do another space walk and—”

  “Matsuri, even if Yukari had enough oxygen, we would need some way to scrub the carbon dioxide out of the air,” said Satsuki.

  Matsuri fell silent, her eyes filling with tears.

  Kinoshita, who up until now had been staring at his terminal, raised his voice. “These spirits of yours, Matsuri. They enjoy playing pranks, do they?”

  “Hoi. Evils spirits love pranks. Sometimes they can even kill people.”

  Everyone turned toward Kinoshita to see where he was going with this.

  “Well, I don’t know whether to call this coincidence or what, but—look at the screen.”

  The screen displayed Tampopo’s orbit, and beside it, a second sine wave.

  “Kinoshita, is that what I think it is?” asked Director Nasuda.

  “That’s the Russian space station—Mir. Its orbit is going to cross Tampopo’s at almost the exact same time. It should pass about two hundred kilometers above Tampopo on the next orbit. We couldn’t have matched up the orbits better if we tried.”

  “Maybe things are finally turning our way. But climbing another two hundred kilometers isn’t going to be easy.”

  “I ran the calculations, and if we jettison the parachute system, it can be done. The capsule will be stranded in orbit, but we can save Yukari. Mir has a three-man Soyuz docked that can bring her home.”

  “It’s all coming together,” said Director Nasuda with a pump of his fist.

  This would add an unscheduled orbital rendezvous to the unscheduled EVA they had just completed. It would be difficult for people outside of the aerospace community to understand, but to accomplish so much on their first manned flight would be nothing short of a miracle.

  “But we can’t bring her home in a Ruskie ship—that would label the whole mission a failure. Mukai, I want that third ship on a rendezvous with Mir, and I want it yesterday.”

  “You don’t have to ask twice.”

  [ACT 6]

  PROFITABILITY IN THE space business took more than the ability to reach orbit—you had to be able to make your way to a satellite or ship once you got there. Tampopo may have been small, but it could execute dramatic orbital changes, and that was its great advantage. Any number of Tampopo’s features had been pared back to reduce size and weight, but not her OMS engine— the engine that was going to boost her to Mir.

  Yukari listened as Kinoshita went over the steps they were about to take.

  “We only get one shot at this. Your first burn will be at perigee in thirty-seven minutes—that will put you in a Hohmann transfer orbit. Forty-four minutes later you’ll perform another burn to align your vector with Mir. Do you copy?”

  “Roger. Just like we learned in class.”

  “That’s right. Things are going to get a little hectic. Matsuri’s back with us. She’ll be providing your ground support again.”

  “Copy that. You there, Matsuri? Everything’s going okay up here.”

  “Hoi, I’m here. We still need to be careful, Yukari. Stay sharp.”

  “I know, I know. So, where do you wanna start?”

  “First we’re going to jettison the parachute system, then we’re going to program the sequencer. We need to check the clock and the engine too. It’s a pretty long list.”

  “Copy that.”

  An hour and twenty minutes passed. The first burn came and went without incident. Tampopo had entered an elliptical orbit that would bring it within striking distance of Mir’s own. Mir would be approaching from behind, and when it was just about to overtake Tampopo, Yukari would perform an apogee burn to match speed.

  For now, Mir was nowhere in sight.

  “So…what’s going on? Should I radio to let them know I’m coming?”

  “Actually, Yukari, the talks with the Russians are still a work in progress. They’re worried about the possibility of a collision, so they haven’t given Tampopo permission to approach yet.”

  “They…what?”

  Yukari couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Were they really going to negotiate over her life?

  The idea wasn’t as absurd as it first sounded. Granting docking rights to a foreign country was a big deal; if something went wrong, astronomical sums of money were on the line, not to mention lives. They only had one chance for Tampopo to make the rendezvous with Mir, so they had taken it, a leap of faith that she would be welcome when she got there. But there was a real possibility that she would be turned away at the door.

  “You’re approaching Mir according to plan,” said Matsuri. “U.S. Space Command is tracking your position for us. You’re currently seventy-four kilometers from Mir, and nine kilometers below.”

  “I should be in ship-to-ship communications range by now.”

  “Hoi, affirmative. Want to give it a try?”

  “They speak English, don’t they?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “Here goes. Let’s see if they’re willing to sit on their hands while a teenage girl dies.”

  Yukari flipped through the operations manual and tuned her radio to the common frequency used by international spacecraft.

  “Um, hello, Mir?” Yukari spoke in English. “This is Tampopo from SSA, Yukari Morita speaking. Over.”

  On her second attempt, a reply came in English. “This is Mir. We hear you loud and clear, SSA Tampopo.” It was a man’s voice, deep and resonating.

  Yukari was ecstatic as she pressed the talk button. “This is Tampopo. I hear you loud and clear too. Tampopo can’t make reentry. I was hoping you’d let me stay with you. Over.”

  “Mir to SSA Tampopo. TsUP mission control has informed us of your situation, but we have not yet received permission for you to dock.”

  Yukari realized it was now or never.

  “So the Russians are just going to let a young girl die with the whole world watching?”

  The Russian response came almost immediately. “Mir to SSA Tampopo. I want you to listen carefully to what I am going to tell you, Yukari. Cosmonauts, astronauts—we have all answered the same noble calling. As far as we are concerned, everyone on the ground can piss off.”

  Yukari couldn’t have been more thrilled by what she had heard if it had been in her own native Japanese. In a place lonelier than any on Earth, she had forged a bond with another human being.

  “Thank you, Mir. I’m glad we had the chance to meet like this. Oh, I still don’t know your name, do I?”

  “I am Oleg Kamanin. With me is my commander, Nikolai Belyayev.”

  “Just two of you?”

  “Correct. We have been here six months. Nikolai is depressurizing and prebreathing to prepare so he can meet you outside the station. It will be two hours before he can go out. Can you wait until then?”

  “Two hours is no problem. Life support should last another four.”

  “Copy that. TsUP told us your suit does not require prebreathing. This is true?”

  “Of course. I thought that’s how they all were.”

  “An amazing technology. This is good, but there will be other difficulties with docking. We will need to moor your vessel to the station with tethers, and our air lock i
s only large enough for one person at a time. Nikolai will help you tie up your ship and show you to the air lock.”

  “Roger. First I need to get there though. I still have seventy kilometers to go. How am I going to find you? I don’t have much fuel, so I need to get it right the first time.”

  “This concerned us too, Yukari. That is why we already track you on radar. We have a good fix on your position. We will guide you to us.”

  “You’re a lifesaver, Oleg.”

  Yukari didn’t waste any time reporting her conversation with Mir to SSA mission control in the Solomons.

  “I don’t know what kind of progress you’re making down there, but we have a game plan ready up here. I’m currently approaching Mir under their guidance. I’m at a relative distance of sixty-three kilometers, elevation minus four kilometers. I should reach Mir in twenty-four minutes.”

  Yukari spoke with absolute confidence. Oleg had said that astronauts of all nations answered to a noble calling, and she liked the sound of that. To this point, she had dutifully followed whatever instructions the ground had given her, but real astronauts relied on their own judgment, made their own decisions, and carried them out. It felt good to be in control.

  “Mir is directly ahead—bright, it looks like Venus. I hope they have a shower onboard. I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat either.”

  “Nice going, Yukari. Everybody’s celebrating down here.” Even Matsuri was having trouble containing her excitement.

  “They should be. An astronaut who’s never flown before doing an EVA and an on-orbit rendezvous in a one-manned spacecraft? This has to be some sort of record.”

  “Hoi. Director Nasuda’s beside himself.”

  “NASA only lets their top astronauts do EVAs. When I get back, maybe I’ll pay a visit to Houston and say hi.”

  [ACT 7]

  FROM A DISTANCE of a few kilometers, Mir looked like a white cross. It was impossible to gauge distance in the vacuum of space, so it appeared to hang there like a key chain dangling just outside the window.

  Tampopo performed her apogee burn and made her final approach, coming in one hundred meters above Mir.

  As Yukari oriented the capsule vertically above the station, the earth swung into view, its orb dusted with snow-white clouds, followed by Mir itself, which had been hidden during the final leg of the approach.

  “Wow, it’s big.” Yukari was awestruck.

  Mir had grown considerably in the ten years since its launch. With its two Kvant modules, Kristall modules, and docked Soyuz, it was a massive structure reaching over forty meters in length.

  Yukari wrung the last bit of thrust out of Tampopo’s engine to maneuver toward the end of Mir’s Kristall-2 module, bringing the ship to a stop a few meters from the air lock.

  “Mir, Tampopo. I’m in position.”

  “Beautiful approach, Yukari. You are a natural.”

  “Just doing my best.” Yukari felt her cheeks redden. “Mir is pretty big. I feel like a fly on an elephant’s tail.”

  Oleg laughed. “I like this expression. Let me tell you about our home while Nikolai prepares to go out. Can you see the window I am in?”

  “Um, where?”

  “Two meters past the air lock, in the middle of a tangle of equipment.”

  Yukari peered eagerly out of her capsule. She spotted a small round window surrounded by pipes and handholds—and in the window she saw Oleg. He was younger than she expected. His hair was wavy and blond. He had a slender face with chiseled features. In short, he was quite handsome.

  “Do you see me?” asked Oleg.

  “Yes, I see you. Can you see me?”

  “Unfortunately it is too dark. I will have to wait.”

  “What about Nikolai? Can he talk with us?”

  “He is prebreathing in his space suit now.”

  “You don’t have radios in your space suits?”

  “No, it is not that. He is a little quiet, that’s all.”

  Yukari cocked her head. She had never heard of a quiet astronaut. If anything, the ability to communicate and work together was something to be prized in the space program.

  “Well, he is Russian,” Yukari said to herself. She had always harbored a little prejudice against Russians. “But he’s also a professional astronaut—I guess I can trust him.”

  Two hours later, the round door of the air lock swung open to reveal a figure in a bulky space suit.

  “This is Commander Nikolai Belyayev. I have exited the air lock. Do you read me, Tampopo?” He spoke in a husky baritone. Whatever his reason for not joining in their conversation sooner, it wasn’t for a lack of English ability.

  “I hear you loud and clear, Commander Belyayev.”

  “I’m going to throw you a tether. Get out of your ship.”

  “Roger.”

  Yukari opened the hatch and boosted herself halfway out of the ship. A gold visor concealed Nikolai’s face. He tied a wrench to one end of the tether and threw it to Yukari. It sailed magically through the gap separating them, the tether trailing in an undulating wave. She caught the wrench and tied the tether to a handle on her now derelict craft.

  “First we will take care of you. Oleg explained the workings of the air lock to you, yes?”

  “He did.”

  “Pull yourself here along the tether. Once you are in the air lock, I will finish securing your ship.”

  “You don’t need me to help?”

  “It is a one-man job.”

  “Understood.”

  Nikolai was not the friendliest of people.

  A little nervous, Yukari headed for the air lock.

  CHAPTER IX

  THE BLUE PLANET AWAITS

  [ACT 1]

  YUKARI HAD EXPECTED Mir’s air lock to be something like an elevator, but it more closely resembled a tube with a manhole-like hatch on its far end. She entered feetfirst and closed the outer hatch above her head. With the flip of a switch, air began to flood the chamber, and the needle on the pressure gauge started to move. When the pressure in the air lock had equalized with the pressure inside the space station, a green light came on. Yukari then rotated a handle on the wall of the air lock to open the inner hatch beneath her feet.

  “I’m going to pull you in now. Let your muscles relax.” Oleg grabbed Yukari by the ankles and gave a gentle tug.

  Yukari drifted into pure white light. The room she found herself in had neither ceiling nor floor. She was surrounded by pipes and machinery. There was no clear ‘up,’ and it took Yukari a moment to adjust.

  Grabbing hold of a handle on the wall, Yukari spun herself around to face Oleg, who floated at an angle to her on his side. He was a head taller than Yukari, but the body beneath his blue coveralls bore the sleek build of a gymnast.

  Oleg’s wide, brown eyes were riveted on Yukari.

  “Um…” What was proper etiquette for greeting someone in space?

  Yukari decided to start by orienting herself the same direction as Oleg and removing her helmet. With the slightest spin of her body, her hair went every which way. Free of the 1 G in which it had been fixed, it gracefully spread out. Yukari extended both arms like a figure skater to stop herself from spinning. As she did, her hair danced as it recoiled into her shoulders and chest.

  Without realizing it, Yukari burst into a smile. She had been unable to enjoy the full experience of microgravity in the confines of her capsule.

  Oleg was transfixed. “At last we meet. Welcome aboard Mir,” said Oleg, embracing Yukari in a bear hug.

  “What? Hey!”

  Oleg held Yukari nearly a minute before finally letting go, and his eyes soon settled back on her body. Yukari’s skintight suit, a scant two millimeters thick, left precious little to the imagination.

  “You are a vision,” said Oleg.

  Under the circumstances, Yukari was willing to forgive his behavior. Oleg and his commander had been alone aboard the station for over half a year, after all.

  “It’s, uh, nice to meet you. I c
an’t thank you and Nikolai enough for letting me aboard.” Yukari extended her hand.

  The gesture seemed to restore Oleg to his senses. He took Yukari’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

  “It is our pleasure, Yukari. Come, let us go to the core module. It is small, so you should leave your helmet and backpack here.”

  The interior of the space station was chaotic. Air ducts and cables snaked everywhere, making the already tight, tunnel-like space feel even more cramped. Bits of random junk were entwined along the walls. The air was filled with the loud whine of fans, and the place smelled like a locker room in the middle of summer.

  It had already been over a decade since they had put the first module into orbit. Various patch-up jobs and additions hadn’t been able to hide the gradually deteriorating conditions inside. Originally planned as a new station, Mir 2 had floundered along with the Russian economy, eventually winding up as part of a larger international space station. Now construction on that international station had hit a roadblock, and there was no support for full-time astronauts on board—which meant they had to make do with Mir.

  “If this had been the main air lock in the Kristall-2 module, we would have been able to fit your entire capsule inside,” Oleg said as she was moving in. “But it has been broken for some time. Now we use only for storage.”

  Yukari was not inspired with confidence.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “If something happens we can escape in the Soyuz.”

  A simplified version of the Soyuz remained docked at Mir at all times for use as an emergency escape vehicle.

  Yukari peeled back a cloth cover held in place by bungee cords and went through a narrow, manholelike port into the core module. Past a pilot’s chair, with its switchboard and monitor, she arrived at the living quarters. This room was about three meters across, with a boxy dining table and four backless chairs attached to one of the walls.

  A curtain ran along one side of the module, with a small space like a changing room behind it. Inside she spotted a sleeping bag attached to the wall and a single round window.