The Visitor

by Tony Harmsworth

  We’d already filled the alien section of the Cluster with nitrogen which was considered the most suitable inert gas, so common in the universe that whoever built AD1 would be aware of it. Alongside the double airlock, there were two transparent aluminium-ceramic glass sections which allowed AD1 to be observed as the gas was added. We’d no idea how it might react but weren’t surprised when there wasn’t any reaction at all.

  What was this thing? Who had made it and why was it here? There was plenty of speculation now, of course, among those of us who knew about it. The general view was that it had been intended to contact us but had suffered the misfortune of a meteor strike before it was able to descend to Earth. Others thought it might have been intended to remain in orbit exactly as it had been, so only an intelligent spacefaring species would find it. Strange to imagine some bug-eyed creature intending this thing to be found by Yuri and me in exactly the way we had.

  I held a grab handle as I floated by the window between the two spheres, staring longingly at it. It sat there, fixed to the secure frame inside the nitrogen sphere, doing nothing, saying nothing, revealing its guts but none of their purposes. Why were the wires uninsulated? Why did every wire seem to have a different colour to every other wire? Thousands of different shades of all the colours of the rainbow. There were so many different hues that our eyes could not separate the colours – only a camera could do that. Fascinating. I was desperately sad that I’d be unlikely to ever touch the device. I’d had a compulsion to run my hands over its surface and feel the texture of the silver blisters. Contamination concerns made that impossible. A big regret for me.

  ‘Time we go, Eva,’ said Yuri, his strong hand grasping my shoulder as I peered at the alien device.

  ‘I don’t want to leave, Yuri. This is our baby. We might never see it again. I want to stay involved, but don’t see how.’

  ‘I know. Feel same, but out our hands now. We been instrumental seeing properly examined. Can do no more, my friend.’

  ‘When I get back home, I’m going to lobby ESA. There must be a way I can take part in studying it.’

  ‘No way come back in less than eight or ten months. Bad for bones and muscles.’

  ‘I know. I know. The universe is so unfair, Yuri.’

  ‘Ha-ha, Eva. Certain not able do much about that.’

  A film of tears covered my eyes. I blinked rapidly several times to try to dispel them, but Yuri had noticed. His arms circled me and crushed me to him sympathetically. I pulled free and dabbed them. Tears are a problem in space as they adhere to the eyeball, sting and blur your vision. After dabbing and some severe blinking, a single tear floated freely before me. I gave a nervous laugh, swatted it, took a last look at our alien artefact and we departed.

  Soon I’d be on my way home. It was like parting with your first car, such a bittersweet experience.

  9 Return to Earth

  Part of each day for the last week, had been spent in our Soyuz, training for the descent. It was important we were all competent, even though the bulk of any control and communications would be undertaken by the computers under Yuri’s watchful gaze.

  After dinner, I returned to my personal space. It was seven thirty. Dr Naughton’s Starliner had reached orbit and would arrive in a couple of hours. The Soyuz, to be used by Yuri and me to return to Earth, was on another docking station where it had been since our arrival. We’d loaded it with items which were being taken down from orbit, including sixteen mice which had been born and lived their entire lives in microgravity. They were certainly in for a shock.

  I now had a short period of downtime to make some calls.

  Mario’s face appeared on Skype.

  ‘Can’t wait to get you back, darling. You all packed?’ he asked.

  ‘Yep. Most of my things are already on the Soyuz and I’ve only a small bag to take with me tomorrow.’

  ‘Did you get your message not to forget your dad’s photograph?’

  ‘Yes. He’s going to put it on the mantle shelf, and will no doubt bore everyone to death by telling them his daughter took it all the way to space and back. He told me last week that it had travelled eighty-five million, six hundred and eighty thousand miles!’

  ‘Don’t scoff. I’m sure it means a lot to him.’

  ‘I know. He’s been excited fit to burst since it got close to home time.’

  ‘Take care, won’t you?’

  ‘You know I will.’

  ‘I love you so much,’ he said, blowing me a kiss.

  ‘Remember, always, I love you too, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. I watched his expression change marginally as he recognised that was my goodbye – just in case.

  ‘See you soon,’ I said and cut the connection before I blubbed.

  I had the same sort of conversations with my parents and a couple of my closest friends, one of whom I asked to go and visit Mario if anything happened to me during descent to let him know I died doing what I loved in life and that I wouldn’t have missed it to live a thousand years. She promised me she would.

  The last call made, it was almost time to welcome the two scientists and I waited in the cupola, enjoying my last view of our home planet through its panoramic windows. My world view had changed since my first sight of Earth from the Soyuz window. Now, I knew for certain it was not the only place in the universe capable of supporting life. Our view of the cosmos would never be the same again. How many of those pinpricks of light in the night sky also had inhabited planetary systems revolving around them, with intelligent creatures looking back towards us with the same wonderment?

  The incoming Starliner Crew mated with the docking node. It’d still be forty or fifty minutes before the hatches were opened, so I turned the opposite way and made out the front end of the Scaffy Wagon. My Scaffy Wagon – it would always be mine in my heart. I’d helped design it and had been its first commander. I was so aggrieved that I had to leave it behind, yet I was also desperate to return home. To have Mario take me into his arms. I’d missed him so much. His company and our love.

  I wondered what the future had in store for me. Debriefing at Roscosmos, ESA, and NASA would occupy a few weeks then I’d be providing support for other astronauts who were due missions to the ISS. With any luck I’d get two or three more Scaffy Wagon projects so five or six years were already sketched out, but everything would be an anti-climax after the events of the last few months. I felt hollow inside. I’d a yearning to stay with AD1, but knew it was an impossible dream. The research scientists would be taking over now. I was not a researcher and there’d be many people more highly qualified than me to work on the alien device.

  A glance at my watch told me the Starliner would soon be hard-docked and the hatches opened. I twisted in mid-air in the comfortable and confident manner of experienced astronauts, gave a quick push, and flew through Tranquillity in imitation of Supergirl. Probably my Bermuda shorts were less sexy than her bright red miniskirt and I had no cape! Funny, the first actress to play Supergirl had been a Slater too.

  I turned into the main thoroughfare through the ISS and was soon at the docking station with Harry who had replaced Mike as station commander a few weeks previously.

  ‘How goes it?’ I asked him as we both floated near the hatch where Yuri was working.

  ‘Five minutes, Eve. Yuri’s making the final checks on the seals.’

  ‘Okay, opening hatch,’ said Yuri, barely a minute later, and the inner hatch swung inwards. The docking section of the Starliner was next to be moved out of the way. There was a blonde woman within.

  ‘Welcome to the ISS,’ said Harry, welcoming Valeria Misalova to the ISS. She would be the next station commander when Harry returned to Earth in a couple of months.

  Yuri gave her hand a gentle pull and she was through the gap and into the space station, followed by Dr Naughton who I now knew as Reg, Dr Meyer who I’d only spoken to a few times, and Sally Cameron, a Canadian mission specialis
t who was visiting to make some modifications to one of the Canadarms.

  There were handshakes all around and I tagged along as Harry took the new astronauts on their guided tour of the station, running through the safety procedures in exactly the way Mike had with Zinaida and me seven months previously. I still couldn’t believe it had been so long.

  After their induction, Reg asked me if we could go somewhere private, so I used the opportunity to take him in to my Scaffy Wagon – it provided the perfect excuse to be inside it one last time.

  Reg was heavily built and struggled to get through the hatch. I liked him. He was obviously a brilliant scientist, but also had a great sense of humour and natural smiley face.

  ‘So, this is the workhorse?’

  ‘Yes, and it’s a brilliant craft. There’s little I’d change or update. Perhaps a third arm underneath the nose. How’s your stomach? You were apprehensive last time we spoke.’

  ‘I’m fine. Seems I was worrying about nothing. I don’t like the sensation I’m falling, but it hasn’t caused me to become disorientated or sick at all. A relief.’

  ‘That’s good to hear. The Cluster’s a much larger volume than the ISS modules so there’s more space in which to become disorientated. It’ll be a lot better for you if you don’t need to control it.’

  ‘I wanted a quiet word,’ he said, lowering his voice.

  ‘Yes?’ I almost whispered conspiratorially.

  ‘I have pulled some strings.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘You’ll be offered a job, still with UKSA and ESA, but at Goonhilly.’

  This was a surprise. ‘What? What sort of job?’

  ‘With UKSA, we’ve being setting Goonhilly up with some of the most advanced computers in existence, plus half a dozen real whiz kid programmers and linguists. The job will be to manage its relationship with the rest of the AD1 sections worldwide. You’d be coordinating the understanding of the alien. Interested?’

  ‘Really? I’d bite your hand off. You are serious?’

  ‘Seriously. I’ve to let Peter at NASA know you’ll take it before ESA will let you apply for it.’

  ‘Absolutely. Tell him quick, before he changes his mind.’

  He laughed at my enthusiasm. ‘You sure? It’s a bit of a desk job compared with what you’ve been doing up here but we’d all prefer an astronaut at the helm, so to speak. No other astronaut has more qualifications for involvement with the project than you.’

  ‘I’d be delighted, Reg. Anything to keep me involved with the alien craft. It’s tearing me apart leaving it right now.’

  ‘You realise it might mean you’ll never return to space?’ said Reg.

  I went quiet for a moment. ‘Suppose so.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘Do you still want it?’

  ‘Damn it, Reg. Call him now, now, now, or sooner!’ We both laughed.

  ‘Okay, I’ll tell Peter.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Reg. I didn’t think Peter liked me.’

  ‘I’m delighted for you. Peter’s a cold fish, but he appreciates your competence and efficiency. He instigated it and told me he was encouraged to find something useful for you by an influential person in the British government. You must’ve impressed someone enough to lobby for you. Once they’d looked at your qualifications, your psychology doctorate and ESA background it became a no-brainer.’

  ‘You think I’ve really got a chance?’

  ‘It’s a British interview board and I think they’d be mad not to hire you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘It is as good as a done deal, in my opinion. You’re the talk of NASA. Damn it, Eve, it is your Cluster idea which has kept AD1 up here. I was petrified we might lose it in an accident if we brought it down to Earth. They’ve been spending billions to make this a reality.’

  ‘I’m amazed and very flattered.’

  ‘Don’t be. You deserved it. Now… where can I get a coffee?’

  ‘Follow me.’ I did an acrobatic tumble in mid-air and dived through the hatch into Harmony, with Reg clumsily in pursuit.

  ««o»»

  I didn’t sleep well. The elation of the potential Goonhilly job was partly to blame, but mainly it was the dangers we’d be facing the next day. The two greatest hazards of journeying into space were blast-off and re-entry.

  Blast-off was now relatively safe as there was an emergency eject rocket if there was a problem. It’d deal with anything other than a catastrophic explosion on the ground and, even then, there was a chance the descent module of the Soyuz, where the crew were, would survive.

  During re-entry, however, if everything did not work perfectly there was a real chance of becoming very dead, and not necessarily instantly. It was scary, and it was preying on my mind. It was the same with all the craft, of course, not just the Soyuz.

  I put my photograph of Mario and my diary with its concealed secret memory card into my small on-board personal belongings bag. I felt guilty about the card. If it was found, it could cost me the Goonhilly post. Too late to get rid of it securely now.

  I had a final check around my sleeping quarters and, once I was certain all was neat and tidy for the next occupant, I made my way through the cluttered module which led into the Russian section of the ISS.

  Yuri was already in his space suit and Shuko, the Japanese astronaut heading Earth-side with us, was being helped into his. Zinaida had left months ago as she’d only been up for a short military project. Harry was there, of course, and Göran was lending a hand too.

  Once we were all in our bulky suits, we had to squeeze our way through the habitation module of the Soyuz and down into our seats in the descent module. Such a tight squeeze. The Dragon and Starliner both had much more space than a Soyuz.

  The habitation module was crammed with garbage and a most un-private toilet device which descending astronauts made a point of trying to avoid needing during the four-hour descent, hence the diapers we wore for emergencies. On crew arrival flights, all astronauts used enemas the morning of lift-off to keep their needs to a minimum as journeys up to the ISS could sometimes take a day or two, but descents were quick affairs.

  When the craft split into sections, the habitation section would burn up on re-entry. It’d leave us in the rhomboidal-profiled descent module.

  It took us about forty minutes to secure the hatches and we had the go to separate. Springs caused us to drift away from the station.

  Soyuz’s thrusters were dirtier than the Scaffy Wagon’s so could not be fired near the ISS. Once we were at a safe distance, a couple of hundred metres away, Yuri used the jets to give us a bit of a push to speed our separation. Next, automatic systems put us into the correct orientation for the first slow-down burn.

  The ISS was not visible to me, but if I craned my neck, the Cluster was there. Once the rockets fired it disappeared rapidly. Soon it was a speck, then lost in the heavens. Would I ever get a second chance to experience free fall? It’d be unlikely if I got the job. Much as I wanted to come back to orbit, I’d have to take the Goonhilly post if it were offered.

  We now had little to do but wait until we’d achieved the correct position for the de-orbiting burn. Almost an hour had passed when some Russian chatter informed us orientation and orbit position were correct.

  Yuri sat with the controls before him as we watched the countdown on his small screen. The descent was automatic but the time of firing the descent engine was critical. If it didn’t fire automatically, he’d have to fire it manually.

  It fired dead on time.

  All of a sudden, we were being shaken far worse than within the Scaffy Wagon as pseudo-gravity made its presence felt, giving us a taster for the real thing which would welcome us back on Earth. This was a far more powerful engine than we had on the Wagon. Five minutes later the engine cut, and we were in silence once again.

  So far, so good. In an hour, we should be on Earth.
/>   Our Soyuz was plummeting earthwards, and it was noticeable how the curvature of the planet was levelling out.

  The next critical phase would be in about twenty minutes when we reached a height of around eighty miles. Yuri had secured the hatch between us and the habitation capsule ready for the craft to split into its constituent parts. The modules above and below us would separate and burn up while we’d have a controlled re-entry, protected by our heat shield.

  ‘One minute,’ said Yuri, ‘can seem bit unnerving. Panic not.’

  His warning did nothing for my peace of mind. I’d been told the activation of the exploding bolts was extremely scary.

  It began with a sound as if the entire ship was being pounded from outside by men with sledgehammers. It worsened for almost a minute before the silence of orbit resumed.

  ‘Good grief. Unnerving wasn’t close to the correct word, Yuri,’ I protested as my heartrate returned to as near normal as it would be likely to get until we were safely home.

  He laughed.

  Now, we seemed to be tumbling. We needed to be moving heat shield down. The tumbling seemed to go on longer than I expected.

  ‘Yuri. Are we meant to still be tumbling?’ asked Shuko.

  ‘It’s okay, Eva, Shuko, give it a minute.’

  The tumbling slowed to a stop, but now the window was glowing. The whole craft seemed to be on fire. The glass was blackening with the heat as the outer layer burned off. I knew this was meant to happen, but it was still undeniably scary. I didn’t dare take my pulse as I guessed it was trying to achieve two hundred as we grew hotter by the second.

  Pseudo-gravity was forcing me back into my seat as my weight increased. My harness was no longer tight, and I pulled with all my force on the straps to secure myself. Shuko and Yuri were doing the same. It was a game of not wanting to show you were scared but we all were, to some degree or another.