Pluto's Ghost- Encounter Edition

by B. C. CHASE

  Twenty-nine

  I do sleep, but in fits and starts, and not in my quarters. Instead, I hook my sleeping bag to the wall of the living area. (I’ve tried to avoid my CQ as much as possible since I was confined there.) When I go to the airlock the next day, Commander Sykes is being suited up with the assistance of Tim and Shelby.

  But I am shocked and dismayed to see that Commander Tomlinson and Shiro are assisting someone else into an Orlan-MK. Her body is already entombed in the space suit but they have yet to embalm her head with the helmet. It was bad enough that Commander Sykes was going out there, but emotion wells up from within me with the knowledge that if she is being suited up in an airlock, she must be heading outside, too.

  It’s the shock. I can’t handle it. “Katia,” I say, unable to contain my angst, “why are you in that suit?”

  Calmly she explains, “Two can do the job faster than one. Without me, Commander Sykes won’t finish in time.”

  “But…” I protest, swallowing a frog in my throat the size of Texas.

  Commander Tomlinson intones, “The mission cannot fail. With both of them out there we will have twice as much likelihood of success getting the gyros replaced.”

  Katia shrugs, “I’ve been camping out with Commander Sykes since you went to sleep.”

  “But, but does that mean you can get in faster and escape the radiation?”

  Nobody speaks, but they all stop working. Commander Sykes breaks the silence: “You never told us the actual numbers, Shelby. What will the chance of mortality be?”

  Shelby hesitates, “I don’t... Do you really want to hear them?”

  “Yes.”

  She soberly says, “Eighty percent within twenty days.”

  Her words are like barbs thrust through my heart. So instead of sending one person out to die, we are dispatching two. And I don’t know a whole lot about radiation, but I know that it can cause immense suffering before it exacts the ultimate price.

  Despite this, Katia is the consummate professional, going about the business of checking her suit steadily and even, you might say, happily. I know she has never done a spacewalk before and has always wanted to. Now is her chance, and the love of her work and the arrogance of youth make her seem carefree and frivolous. She doesn’t understand the gravity of what she is doing. She doesn’t seem to care. She shouldn’t be doing this, I think, and suddenly anger boils up within me and I loudly blurt, “You can’t do this, damn-it! You can’t send her out there!”

  Everyone ceases their labor to stare at me.

  “She’s too young. It isn’t right.”

  Katia explains in a pacifying tone, “I always wanted to do an EVA, Jimmy. Now’s my big chance.”

  “But you can’t,” I implore, my voice burdened with emotion. I pull myself towards her and plead, “I already lost one daughter, Katia. I can’t lose you, too.”

  She says nothing for a moment, but my statement elicits a tear from her. Finally, she emotionally observes, “I always wanted a father. Now that I have one,” her voice cracks, “I have to say goodbye.” Her eyes are welling up with tears.

  “I love you, Katia,” I say. “You make me so proud.”

  She soothes, “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

  These are woefully erroneous words coming from a statistician who just heard the actual probability, I think. I plead with Commander Sykes, “Isn’t there some way I can take her place?” In the back of my mind I know I am not being rational.

  “You don’t have the training, Jim,” he gently replies. It is the compulsory response that my logical mind expected, and I give it the compulsory respect that I know I should, allowing my emotions to calm like a storm receding from the sea.

  Tim embraces Katia and when he pulls away, I think I see a tear bubbling up in his eye.

  When the preparations are completed, with Katia and Commander Sykes being fully sealed into their suits and all the checkouts performed, each of us take our turn saying our goodbyes. Hugging Katia through a spaceship (because that’s what a space suit is, really) only exacerbates the emotional turmoil I am experiencing, making her seem distant before she has even left the airlock. I keep a stiff upper lip, though, for her sake, and give her an approving thumbs up. I exit the airlock with everyone else, but I am purposeless, like a piece of timber helplessly drifting out with the tide, and I feel empty, as if I am leaving my soul in the airlock with Katia.

  Commander Tomlinson and Tim close the hatch of the crew lock. Through the small portal, I can see that Commander Sykes’ expression is grim and his arms are braced in front of his chest. He is holding the picture of his daughters. Katia’s face is strained, unlike it had been when she was suiting up, but she waves at me, managing to smile beautifully. Commander Sykes looks up and meets my eyes through the glass. He raises the picture of his kids and grins. I nod my approval and give him the thumbs up.

  Commander Tomlinson, behind me, says, “Time to open the airlock.” Then he taps my shoulder. I turn around to see him floating there with a sneer marring his perfectly youthful face, “And you need to get to your chores.”

  At this moment, my biggest priority is to get away from him as quickly as possible, so even though I feel like fighting with him or, even better, wringing his neck, I take the most expedient exit. “Yes, sir,” I say.

  But I don’t go do my chores. I go to the cupola to watch.

  Shelby is already inside the cupola operating the Canadarm (the main control workstation for it is in there). She looks as distraught as I feel. I ask, ‘“Do you mind if I watch?”

  “Of course not, Jim.” She wipes her eyes with a white cloth, sniffling. She has been affected by the goodbye as much as I have. Since she knows more than anyone about their chances medically, this isn’t a good omen.

  Commander Tomlinson’s voice is over the speaker, “Brakes go off.”

  “Confirmed,” she says. “Brakes off.”

  Commander Tomlinson says, “Enter mode manual verified blue.”

  “Copy that. Verified blue.”

  “Joint lock, shoulder roll.”

  “Verified.”

  “Now you can begin, Shelby.”

  “Confirmed.”

  Outside the windows towards the forward section of the station I can see Jupiter. We are about 1,300,000 kilometers away, and the planet is the size of a ping pong ball held at arm’s length. Within four hours, we will be making our closest approach and that is when the radiation will be the most intense and the danger the highest. It is also when our engines will burn and we will need to be aligned properly. If Commander Sykes and Katia are not finished by then, the International Space Station will be propelled away from the Solar System with no possibility of return.

  Visible on the bottom of the airlock module to the starboard side is the hatch through which Commander Sykes is emerging.

  “NASA sent that patch through a long time ago. I just hope it works,” Shelby says, concentrating very hard as she uses the controls to maneuver the arm. It is an excruciatingly slow process as the long arm segments stretch out towards the airlock.

  I ask, “Tim tested it didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Shelby replies.

  “And it checked out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” I smile, “so all you have to worry about is that you don’t screw up on those controls.”

  She grins, “You’re so reassuring, Jim.”

  Over the radio, Commander Sykes says, “Just a reminder that the faster we do this, the better. It’s supposed to take six-and-a-half hours to replace one CMG. We have four hours to replace two of them.”

  Shelby asks, “How are you guys feeling?”

  “Fine,” replies Commander Sykes, his voice masked by static.

  “Okay, good. I don’t want to bring this up, but you should be aware that you won’t start feeling sick from the radiation until two hours into the EVA.”

  “Copy that, Shelby,” says Commander Sykes. “Thanks for the heads up.”r />
  “Eric,” says Commander Tomlinson, “you’ll need to take the foot restraint that’s stored on the airlock and attach it to the arm as soon as Shelby has it in place.”

  “Copy that,” Commander Sykes replies.

  Commander Tomlinson continues, “To do that, you’ll need to take your tool bag and—”

  Commander Sykes interrupts, “I know which tools to use, thanks.”

  “It’s best if you listen to procedure, Eric.”

  “I’ve done this before, Joshua. I’ll let you know if I need any tips.”

  I can’t help but grin as I listen to this exchange.

  Commander Tomlinson shifts his attention to what whom he must perceive as an easier target for his administrations, “Katia?”

  “Yes.”

  “As soon as you’re out of the airlock, I’ll need you to translate up to the Z1 truss. Do you remember your initial tether configuration?”

  “I do. Copy that,” replies Katia cheerfully.

  Commander Tomlinson says, “Shelby?”

  “Yes,” Shelby replies, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at me.

  “Is the arm in position?”

  Shelby sighs, “Yes, it is.”

  “Don’t touch the robot for a minute while Eric attaches the foot restraint.”

  “Copy. I will not move the arm while Commander Sykes attaches the restraint.” Looking aside to me, Shelby says, “Because that wouldn’t make much sense, would it?”

  Commander Tomlinson orders, “Keep the superfluous chatter to a minimum, Shelby.”

  “Copy.”

  “Katia, let me know as soon as you’re in position,”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Katia climbs up around the airlock, she passes out of my view. All I can see of Commander Sykes are his feet. Work is slow as Commander Sykes carefully manipulates the foot restraint. After a few moments, Katia says, “I am in position at CMG 3.”

  Commander Tomlinson says, “Okay, I need you to carefully remove the MLI cover.”

  “Copy that, removing cover.”

  In the cupola, a screen at the Canadarm control station displays Katia’s helmet camera. The white thermal shroud that she is struggling to peel away is radiantly illuminated by the sun except where her shadow falls. Once it is exposed, I can see that the gyroscope is a thick, black disk. It looks kind of like a flying saucer.

  Commander Sykes says, “I’m finished attaching the restraint. Heading up to the Z1.”

  “Katia,” says Commander Tomlinson, “What is your status?” I find the question odd since he should be able to see as well as I can on the monitors that she is working on getting the cover away.

  “I am still working on the MLI,” says Katia.

  “You are falling behind the timeline. Speed it up.”

  “Copy that,” says Katia chipperly.

  On the monitor, I see Commander Sykes’ hands traveling end over end as he uses the handrails to move up around the aluminum exterior of the airlock.

  “Okay, I’m done,” says Katia.

  “It’s about time,” says Commander Tomlinson. “Maybe I should have sent Commander Sykes to do this by himself, because so far you haven’t been much help. Do you see the four electro connectors?” I am irked by his impatience. I’m not an astronaut, but even I know how tough it is to do anything out there in zero g where everything seems to work against you. I wonder what he is trying to accomplish by goading her. Whatever it is, I trust she is wise enough to see through his nonsense.

  “I see them,” she replies.

  “You’ll need to de-mate the first one and tuck it under the handrail on CMG 3.”

  “Copy,” Katia says.

  Commander Tomlinson says, “Eric, status?”

  “I am almost to the top of the CMGs.”

  “Good. Now I’ll need you to install the ball stack in the handrail so that we can temporarily stow CMG 3.”

  There is a pause, then Commander Sykes says, “That would waste time. We should jettison it.”

  “Procedures state it should be stowed, so that’s what is going to happen. We might need to use it again.”

  “We’re not going to use a failed CMG. If you want it stowed,” says Commander Sykes, “you’ll have to come out here and stow it yourself.”

  I exchange a surprised, but pleased glance with Shelby.

  Katia says, “I’m done with the connectors.”

  “Copy. You’re not following procedure, Katia. I have to tell you where to tuck the cables.”

  “That’s okay. I found places to tuck them,” she replies, a smile in her voice.

  “When you get the new CMG over there and can’t seat it properly because a cable came loose, you will regret that,” Commander Tomlinson mutters.

  “We’ll deal with that problem when we come to it,” says Commander Sykes, “just like we’ve done this entire mission. Now I think the next task is to get the bolts undone, right?”

  “Uh,” mutters Commander Tomlinson, flipping pages. “Yeah. Yes, that’s it. There are six. You will each use your PGTs to do three of them. Four point two pounds of torque and nine to thirteen turns each.”

  Commander Sykes says, “Why don’t I do all the bolts and Katia can ride the arm over to ESP1 to pick up a new CMG?”

  “Why don’t you wait for instructions instead of trying to shoot from the hip? If we don’t follow procedures we risk making a mistake, and there are no minor mistakes in space.”

  Commander Sykes ignores Commander Tomlinson and says, “If Katia gets on the arm, are you ready to move her over to ESP1, Shelby?”

  Without hesitation, Shelby replies, “I am.”

  “Good, let’s do it. Get on the arm, Katia.”

  Sounding flustered, Commander Tomlinson says, “Katia, I am your commander. Do as I say.”

  There is a pause and I wonder what Katia will do. On the monitor, I see that she raises her head to meet Commander Sykes’ eyes through his helmet. “Josh,” she says. “I think we’ve done as you say too long already. Eric Sykes is my commander.”

  Shelby heartily declares, “I concur.”

  Commander Tomlinson, his voice calm, says, “That’s how it is, is it? Let’s make it official and call it what it is: a mutiny. Mutiny on the International Space Station.”

  “You can call it whatever you want, Josh,” says Commander Sykes. “We can’t afford to waste time on this EVA. Tim?”

  Tim’s voice comes over the radio, “I’m here.” I know that Commander Tomlinson, Shiro, Nari, and Tim are in the American Science Module together.

  “I would appreciate it if you would take the reins from Josh and guide us through the rest of this EVA. Josh is preventing us from completing this as quickly and efficiently as we can.”

  “Copy that, and I concur. Will do,” Tim replies. “Josh, give me the manual.”

  There is a pause that is broken by Shiro’s stern voice, “Josh, give Tim the manual.”

  Nari shouts, “Don’t do it, Josh! You’re the commander!”

  “Nari?” Tim questions. “Are you supporting Josh over me?”

  There is silence. Then, Nari spitefully says, “Why wouldn’t I support Josh over you?”

  “What do you mean?” Tim demands.

  “I don’t love you, Tim. It’s Josh’s baby.”

  There is nothing but static over the radio, and Shelby and I stare at each other. I whisper, “Did she just say something about a baby?”

  Shelby slowly nods, “I think she did. I didn’t know Nari had a baby back home.”

  “Neither did I,” I utter under my breath.

  Shelby shakes her head, “I don’t understand.”

  Shiro’s voice comes over the radio, “Are you telling us that you are pregnant?” He speaks with incredulity.

  “Yes,” Nari says. “I am.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Shiro says. “All the men were sterilized.”

  “Sterilized or not, I am pregnant. Tim knows about it.”

  �
��I didn’t know it was Josh’s,” says Tim.

  Commander Tomlinson demands, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Nari is pregnant with Josh’s baby. I cannot believe that she is pregnant at all, let alone with Josh. “This will be front page news tomorrow,” I quip to Shelby.

  While Nari is arguing with Commander Tomlinson and Tim, Shiro says, “This is not possible. You cannot have a child.”

  Nari says, “What do you mean I cannot have a child?”

  “There’s a reason all the males were supposed to have been sterilized,” says Shiro. “We cannot bring a child to Pluto!”

  “This is my baby,” says Nari. “I can do what I want.”

  In an even, direct tone Shiro states, “No, you can’t. There is no telling what could result from that. Shelby are you listening to this?”

  “Yes,” Shelby ruefully responds. “Unfortunately.”

  “Please explain to Nari why she cannot have a baby on this mission.”

  “Um…” Shelby says with her palm on her forehead.

  I can scarcely believe what I am hearing, and neither can she, apparently.

  Shelby says, “I think that would be up to the mission commander.”

  Commander Sykes says, “We’ll come back to that later. Right now, we have an EVA to complete. Tim, can you guide us through the rest?”

  Tim is having an argument with Nari.

  Commander Sykes shouts, “Tim!”

  There is silence. Then Tim states, “Nari, I’ll discuss this with you later. Josh, give me the manual.”

  I tell Shelby, “I’m gonna go give Tim some moral support.” I pound my fist into my palm.

  She confirms, “Good idea.”

  I drift up from the cupola into Node 3, go through to Node 1 and hang a left into the American Science Module. When I arrive, it appears a standoff is taking place. A float-off, actually. Tim and Shiro are on one side while Commander Tomlinson and Nari are on the other. Commander Tomlinson is still holding the manual. “Give Tim the manual,” I say, my voice meaning business.