Nathalie looked from John to David and back again. “I … I can’t lose you again. Not again, please.”
John set his jaw. She recognized that expression and looked away, snatching a hand from his to wipe her tears. “Oh, mon Dieu, what have I done to deserve this? Why couldn’t you be like a normal man?”
John grinned. “Where’s the fun in that, eh?” But his humor was forced.
David understood John well enough to know trying to persuade him to go with them wouldn’t work. Neither could he pull rank and order him. All he could do now was protect Nathalie.
“I’ll wait in the shuttle,” he said, looking at John. “Don’t be long.”
John nodded, then offered his hand to David.
David grasped it. “You always were a stubborn sonofabitch.”
“Yeah, just like you. Now get the hell out of here.”
David hesitated. “Get my flight suit. It’s better than yours, and it’ll be best to suit up.”
John nodded. “Good idea, I’ll do that. Now seriously, bugger off so I can say goodbye to my wife.”
David nodded, waved a salute, and headed for the door.
“I will stay with you, my love,” Nathalie said, her voice breaking.
John pulled her tight and kissed her forehead. “No, you won’t.” He pulled back and held her face in his hands. “Our children need their mother.”
Tears welled in Nathalie’s eyes. “Why must it be you? I don’t want to lose you again.”
John looked around and smiled. “Children are always trouble. I think we should stop after Hope, don’t you?”
Nathalie tried to force a smile, but it wouldn’t come.
“Go on now,” John said, kissing her hands. “I’ll join you soon, I promise.”
Nathalie squeezed his hands and summoned a smile. “Au revoir, mon amour.”
John watched her go, then turned back to the monitors and watched Opportunity grow closer.
“I’m glad you stayed, Papa,” Hope said. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“You won’t be, I’m right here with you,” John said. “Now, let’s get to work. I’ve got a few ideas to improve our chances.”
They didn’t have enough rags, or paper towels, or plastic bags. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose with disgust as she chased down another globule of floating puke.
To begin with, it had been a great adventure. None of the children had been into space before. Watching Serendipity fall away below them had been exciting and new.
Zero-gravity had been exciting and new too, at first, and fun. But very soon some of them began to turn green, and then it started. Zoé Duplessis lost her breakfast first, and once she started the others followed. Pretty soon the passenger compartment turned into a pit of horror and the adults had the unenviable task of cleaning up the mess.
She looked over to where Joyce Abramovich consoled a distressed Emma Ng while mopping up the mess she’d just let loose. Whatever else she may have thought about Joyce, she felt grateful she had come now. She didn’t complain, just set to work cleaning up. Joyce looked up to see her watching her. She smiled and shrugged, her eyebrows raised. Elizabeth understood – what else could they do except grin and bear it?
She didn’t know for sure what would happen when Opportunity struck the planet, but she hoped whatever happened, happened quick. She didn’t see how she could stand two weeks of this. Elizabeth sighed and redoubled her efforts.
“Fuel transfer complete,” Hope announced.
“Good job, Hope.” Hope’s forward and mid fuel tanks had been empty from an operational perspective, but both of them had retained a five percent reserve in case of emergencies. They had pumped all of it into the aft tank as it seemed certain they would suffer damage.
“Now let’s lock down the bulkhead doors forward of the mid tank and pump out the air.”
“Executing.”
“Release the maintenance bot from the forward compartment and have it stand off at five hundred meters. That should be far enough to keep it safe but near enough for a rapid response should we need it.”
“Maintenance bot deployed.”
John let out a long breath. “I can’t think of anything else, can you?”
“No, John, I’m as prepared as I can be.”
John looked up at the main screen. They floated only a few hundred meters from Opportunity now. Hope still maneuvered with thrusters to align herself as well as possible with the asteroid’s axis of rotation.
David and the others waited where Hope used to be, a kilometer off the south pole.
“Papa, why did you stay?”
John looked up. “In case you needed me. You know, to fix something.”
“If something happens … it’s unlikely you will be able to help in time.”
John said nothing.
“Papa? John?”
He sighed. “We humans are funny creatures, Hope. We get attached to each other and then we do crazy illogical things because of that. I couldn’t let you do this alone. You saved my life, and I figure I owe you one, even if there’s not much I can do.”
An image of a frightened little girl snapped onto the screen.
“Will I be OK, Papa?”
John nodded. “Sure. You’re not designed for this, but you’re strong enough. Your central core is strong.”
Hope leaned forward. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so. You’re stronger than you know. And afterward, we’ll make you as good as new, I promise. Better than new.”
“Like the Inspiration?”
John smiled. Hope understood very well what could be achieved with their new technologies. She did this for a very human reason – she wanted to be reassured.
“Better than that. When we’re through, you’ll be the best starship ever, I promise.”
Hope smiled, nodding along as John spoke. “It will be OK?”
“It will,” John said, his heart breaking as he maintained a smile. “You’ll see.” In truth, he had no idea what would happen. Hope had never been designed to push anything, let alone an asteroid massing much more than her. But they had to try.
“I’m ready,” Hope said.
Jack set his walls to full transparency and it seemed as if they floated among the stars. David, Ernie, and Heidi watched as Hope’s lateral thrusters fired and the big ship began to turn until it matched the rotation of Opportunity. The thrusters on Opportunity went dark; there would be no value in them slowing Opportunity any further.
Hope’s maneuvering thrusters fired, little stabs of light here and there, and the great ship edged forward until it buried its nose in the icy south pole of Opportunity.
John sat strapped into his seat on the bridge, watching as Hope drew closer and closer to Opportunity.
David was right, his flight suit was good. He flexed a gloved hand. Much, much better than his old suit. His helmet visor was still open – he wanted to preserve his suit’s supply for as long as possible, just in case.
Opportunity’s surface features now filled the screen, fading to a consistent grayish-white as they got closer and closer.
Then a bump, felt more than heard. Hope shuddered and he heard the groans of tortured metal as they decelerated. On screen, the observation dome shattered and the camera went dark. The view from the maintenance bot showed the thin skin of the forward fuel tank depress and rupture, the thin aluminum plates tearing under the strain.
Seconds later another, more violent bump. John knew what it was. The observation dome and fuel tank had little structural strength. Behind them sat Hope’s main truss, a cylindrical tube of latticed aluminum stretching from stem to stern. The leading edge of the truss had just made contact.
“Maintain thrust, Hope. We don’t want to bounce off.”
“I am maintaining half thrust.”
They weren’t using the main drive yet, just maneuvering thrusters to minimize their impact velocity.
Hope shuddered and vibrated. A loud bang reverberated th
rough the bridge like a gunshot, but it didn’t seem to be anything vital. “Just a plate seam letting go somewhere,” John said to himself.
The console swayed under him and he saw on screen that Hope was firing lateral thrusters.
“Hope?”
“I think the surface where we impacted is uneven. I’m compensating with thrusters to hold us straight.”
John nodded. This would be OK, they had plenty of fuel. They could burn the thrusters for as long as they needed to. He let out a sigh. So far, it seemed their daring ploy would work.
“Thrust holding at forty percent,” Hope said.
Nathalie’s calculations showed that if Hope applied main engine thrust at forty percent for their remaining eight days, it would be enough with a margin to spare. Ernie and John had done some sums on force distribution and decided Hope’s main truss could take that level of strain.
“How’s our alignment?” John asked.
“I am holding position with thrusters.”
John frowned. Something tickled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“OK. Tell me if anything changes.”
“Yes, John.”
An indicator flashed on the console. “I have an incoming call from Elizabeth,” Hope announced.
John leaned forward. “Put her on screen.”
“Hi, Dad.” Elizabeth looked frazzled. Instead of her hair being tied back neatly, stray strands waved everywhere.
“Hi Lizzie. How’s it going back there? Have the kids settled down yet?”
Five seconds later he saw Elizabeth pull a face. “It’s a little better, but some of the little ones are still upchucking. Lucky we’ve got lots of space in here now we’ve burned off most of the fuel. Jill made us a separate room where we put the pukers. At least that way we can keep them away from the others.”
John wrinkled his nose, thinking about it. “I reckon I got the easy job this time.”
Elizabeth laughed, but he noticed the dark rings under her eyes and realized she wasn’t having an easy time of it. Her expression turned serious.
“We can see you, Dad. Just by looking out of the window we can see Hope’s exhaust plume. Jill’s shown us close-up video. What you’re doing is crazy and stupid dangerous.”
“Yep.” He couldn’t deny it.
“Dad … do you have to stay there?” Her voice cracked. “Can’t Hope do it by herself?”
John smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “It’s always best to have company when you’re being a hero, hon. Take it from me, it’s lonely by yourself.”
Elizabeth shivered when she heard his words, remembering how he’d almost died. As if reading her thoughts, John followed on. “Hope’s part of our family, Lizzie. I’d stay for you, so I’ll stay for Hope.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her brow.
“Trust me, Lizzie. It’ll be OK.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but was distracted by a ruckus off-screen. “Uh oh.” Her head snapped back to the camera. “I gotta go, there’s another mess back here to clean up.”
She waved at the camera and swam off, leaving John to his thoughts.
Day after day they plunged through the void. Serendipity grew larger and larger, and ever so slowly, Opportunity’s trajectory began to shift. Their progress became routine and a sense of relief began to take root in the backs of their minds.
It took only seconds for routine to turn to disaster. One moment Hope nuzzled into Opportunity like a trained seal pushing a beach ball; the next, her forward tank popped like a dropped watermelon and she began to drift to one side. Then her main truss bent and snapped right in the center of the mid fuel tank, causing that tank to explode like a popped balloon.
It happened fast, but Hope reacted like lightning. She fired her lateral thrusters to try and correct her orientation. A second later, when that didn’t work, she began to shut down her main drive. Two seconds after that, when the main truss buckled, she performed an emergency shutdown of her main reactor. Knowing she couldn’t stay attached to Opportunity, she fired every remaining thruster to push herself away to port. That saved her from complete destruction. Crippled, she spun away from Opportunity, water spilling from her aft tank where it split under the strain.
John had the good fortune to be strapped into his seat on the bridge before it happened. He experienced a sudden lurch then heard a loud bang. The slow squeal of tortured metal reverberated through the ship like fingernails down a chalkboard. He felt the acceleration as Hope tipped to the side, then a shuddering, wrenching bang as the truss gave way. The lights went out and John held on tight and prayed. The ship lurched and lurched again. If not for his restraints, John would have gone flying as Hope began to turn and the centrifugal force pulled him to the side. He heard a sudden whoosh as the air in the bridge rushed out. He forced himself not to panic as he commanded his suit to close his visor. Then he shut his eyes and held on, hoping he would survive.
Hoping they both would.
18
David saw the whole thing. He was sitting in the cockpit observing when the disaster unfolded before his eyes. The front tank flying apart, Hope bending and breaking, the mid tank shattering. Hope spinning away, water spraying from her aft tank and freezing into ice, sparkling in the sunlight like a string of diamonds.
“Jack! Track Hope’s trajectory and plot an intercept course.”
“Calculating,” Jack said. Without being asked, he pulsed his maneuvering thrusters to point them in Hope’s direction.
“Strap in!” David said, raising his voice for Heidi’s and Ernie’s benefit. “Emergency burn!”
“Course plotted. Intercept in five minutes, burn in T-minus twenty-two seconds and counting,” Jack said.
“Wha …” Ernie said, emerging from a deep slumber.
“Strap in,” David said. “Hurry! We need to go!”
Ernie’s fingers fumbled with his harness. Heidi had been awake already. Nathalie slept strapped in, but blinked awake at the sudden commotion.
“What happened?” Ernie asked.
“No time to explain,” David said. “Jack, play back video of Hope from thirty seconds ago.”
“Replaying video,” Jack said. “T-minus fifteen seconds.”
David heard gasps from behind as the count reached zero and Jack’s acceleration pushed them back into their seats. It wasn’t the engine burn eliciting their shock, though.
“Hope! Oh, Hope! And John, my John!” Nathalie’s wail of anguish pierced David’s heart. Nathalie had suffered so much already because of Hope and John, and now her worst fears had been realized once more.
Jack burned his engines for only twenty seconds, then they coasted on an intercept trajectory. Despite the drama of the last few minutes, Jack, Hope, and Opportunity hadn’t drifted far relative to each other, so it didn’t take long to catch up with Hope.
Their jaws dropped when they saw what had become of her. Hope’s entire front third was missing. The forward tank, gone. Jagged shards were all that was left of the mid tank. The remains of the main truss forward of the mid tank were bent and twisted. The sideways shear had left a deep crease on the forward port side of the aft tank and a tear on the starboard side. Water still vented from the tear driven by the force of the ship’s rotation.
“Mon Dieu,” Nathalie said. “David, what can we do?”
David rubbed his jaw, frowning. Their curse with this mission seemed to be a need to land on rotating objects. First Opportunity, now Hope.
John could see nothing, and all he could hear was the rasping of his breath inside his helmet. His weight felt all wrong. He hung from his harness, the floor in front of his nose. This isn't good.
He turned his helmet light on. The harsh white light cast shadows across the console, which appeared from his current perspective to be attached to the floor. His suit told him the room had lost its air. An icy hand gripped his heart. Hull breach.
Lack of power suggested a catastrophic failure. The fa
ct that he still sat here suggested it wasn’t a reactor core breach. Although we survived one of those once before.
John reached up to release his harness and pivot out of his seat. He used the harness to lower himself onto the console and then the wall, now floor. He didn’t know what the simulated gravity strength was, but it seemed more than Serendipity normal.
“I guess I’d better see about getting the power on,” he said to himself.
He crawled along the wall until he was opposite the junction leading upward to the ship’s core. The entrance to the junction was at the far wall. This wouldn’t be a problem in normal circumstances, but now it exited from the ceiling, not the wall.
“That's bloody awkward.” He cast his eyes around the room, but found nothing to help him climb the four-meter floor (now wall) to get there.
“Have to do it the hard way then.” He crawled back to the seats, eight arranged in a double row in front of the console. Grabbing a spanner from his tool belt, he set to work unbolting the seats.
“There,” David said. “That’s the point of rotation. We need to get Jack in position there and match his angular velocity to Hope’s. Then I can transfer over.”
“And then what?” Nathalie asked. “How will you get inside?”
“I’ll move down the outside of the core to one of the airlocks.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think the spin of the ship’s a problem?”
David nodded. “It is, but I’ll take a spare line with me and use it to let myself down.”
“Hmmm.”
He watched Nathalie weighing the options. On the one hand, she wouldn’t want David to risk himself. On the other, John might need help. At last she nodded. “You may go.”
“Thanks.” David suppressed a smile and resisted reminding her he led the mission and he’d go if he wanted to. Nathalie had a tendency to take charge if she thought someone might get hurt.
“Jack, can you move us in and match Hope’s rotation? Keep us fifty meters out for now.”
“Yes, David. Executing now.”
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