Alpha Centauri: First Landing (T-Space: Alpha Centauri Book 1)

by Alastair Mayer

“We’re coming up against our timeline, people. Are you going to be ready to lift two days?” he said.

  “Krechet landing party is all here at Chandrasekhar,” Dmitri Tsibliev said. “I would like to make final trip back to Krechet to pick up any forgotten items, and to secure lander for long term parking, but da, we can do this.”

  “Thank you. Patel, how is the Chandra looking?”

  “We need to run the final weight calculations and stow everything for launch. Propellants are available for loading and top up. It is desirable to clear the area by tomorrow for an engine test. It will be tight. What are the constraints on extending the launch window?”

  “The usual. Consumables, orbital positions, weather,” Drake said. “If we stay in-system more than another couple of weeks people are going to be getting hungry on the trip back, and I want a preliminary review of findings before we leave. We can’t land again, but if there are additional observations we can make from orbit, or of the smaller bodies in the system, better to leave some time for that. You’ve got clear weather for the next few days, after that it we’re not sure. I’d rather have you up here by then.”

  “Understood, we will endeavor to comply.”

  “Keep me apprised if there are delays. Sawyer, anything to add?”

  “I think most of the scientists would rather stay longer, but that will always be true. I’ll get them rounded up and have them do triage on what specimens they want to take versus leave behind.” Even if they didn’t have the Krechet party to bring home, they’d probably amassed more samples than they originally had weight allowance for, let alone now. She knew that she and Tyrell had quite a collection of rock and mineral specimens between them.

  “Very good. All right, I will leave you folks to it. We have a bit of housekeeping to do up here to get ready for visitors.” With the necessary abandonment of the Krechet, the voyage home would be a little more crowded.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  The science team did scream a bit at having to leave some of their specimens behind, a few even bargained to leave some of their personal gear behind if they could bring back the equivalent weight of samples. After reminding them that, in all probability, they’d never see again anything left behind, Sawyer went along with that.

  The announcement had the unexpected side benefit of everyone working with a will to reduce any non-essential mass from the lander or its contents. It was almost comical.

  “No, you cannot remove that panel, it is most essential,” Patel said when they’d started getting a little too enthusiastic about stripping the interior of the ship.

  “But it’s just cosmetic, not structural. It covers up some wiring and plumbing. We can live without that for a few days.”

  “It is more like a few weeks, counting the trip back to Earth, and you are forgetting that will all be in microgravity. We don’t want any foreign objects drifting into the ‘wiring and plumbing’, as you put it. The panel stays.” That his voice was raised when he said that struck home, he was normally very mild mannered.

  “How about we cover it with a sheet of plastic, or fabric cut from a BIG? We can seal the edges with duct tape to keep stuff from drifting in.”

  Patel relented. “Very well. But check with me on any panels you replace. Nothing structural, and nothing where a person might float into it either.” He may also have said, under his breath, something about the interior of the Chandra looking like a gosh darn Soyuz, but nobody present would swear to it.

  When they were done, Sawyer was happy to carry the remains of the BIGs out to the disposal pile.

  The acceleration couches, except for the pilot-captain’s command couch, were also disassembled and removed. The rest of the crew would be on sleeping pads taped to the deck. The eight-minute ride to orbit would be at three gees, easily tolerated. The liquid-fueled engines gave a much smoother ride than the old US Space Shuttle solid boosters allegedly had. In the unlikely event of something forcing a mid-flight abort, they were probably all dead anyway, a crash couch wouldn’t help.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Launch day eve

  The previous evening, before dark, Patel had ordered everyone to a safe distance from the lander while he ran an engine test. It wouldn’t be a full throttle test, the tie-downs weren’t designed for that, nor did he want the exhaust to create too much disturbance to the nearby gear—especially including the refuelling pod—until they were ready to lift off.

  The sensors reported all systems were nominal. He started the pre-chill sequence, cold vapor from the fuel tanks flowing through the plumbing, pumps and valves to gradually cool them to operating temperature. A sensor light lit up yellow, one of the valves hadn’t operated quite as quickly as expected. Patel toggled the HOLD control then pressed a button to manually cycle the valve a few times. The sensor changed back to green. He toggled it a few more times to be sure it stayed that way. It did. He made a note to visually check the valve just to be sure.

  He released the hold and continued the sequence. At T-minus-thirty seconds he confirmed that the thrust limits were set to ten percent maximum. The tank pressures were nominal. A few seconds later he heard the whine of the turbo-pumps spinning up to operating speed. This was it, ignition sequence start. A muffled “whump” and then a growing roar came from below him as the first four engines lit, then a ripple of successive whumps masked by an increase in the roar as the other engines around the circumference of the ship fired up in rapid succession.

  The console showed thrust at ten percent. He let it run for five seconds, then reached for the manual cut-off just as the computers also decided it was time to shut them down, and the roaring stopped. He heard the descending whine as the turbines slowed, and out the window all he could see was the clouds of steam from his exhaust. He and the computers began safing the system. It looked they were GO for tomorrow’s launch.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Centauri Station

  Vukovich, the astrophysicist, would be monitoring the launch from orbit, on the Heinlein’s bridge. Drake sat strapped into his control couch watching the monitors. He rubbed his palms against his pants to get rid of the sweat. If I’m nervous, I wonder how the folks on the Chandrasekhar are doing. About seventy-five minutes to go. “Status?” he asked Vukovich.

  “All systems are GO. I’ll upload the final orbital elements at T-minus thirty minutes.” They’d be out of visual range for that and for the launch; the relay satellite would handle the telemetry and communications. The timing allowed for the Station to be just catching up to Chandrasekhar when it reached orbit, so that they could do a final rendezvous and docking within one or two orbits after that.

  “Thank you.” Drake switched the comm to another channel. Chandrasekhar, Greg says systems are GO. Can you confirm?”

  “Affirmative, Heinlein. System lights are all green, propellant tanks are topping off, we are untied and hatches secure. Sawyer and Tsibliev are doing a final interior inspection to ensure everything is stowed properly, including the passengers. We’re still on external air and will seal that as scheduled. We are GO.” The life support system was still exchanging filtered air from outside to conserve the internal reserves. With nine people aboard a ship designed for five, even with design margins for ten, there was no point in pushing it.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  T-minus two minutes

  “Everything still in the green, Greg?”

  “Yes sir.” Vukovich checked detailed screen. “Tank vent valves just closed and pressure is building up nominally. Life support is internal. Power is now internal.”

  “All right, read it off for me, would you.” Launches hadn’t been controlled by a roomful of people at consoles in a long time, one person could handle it now. But the functions of those consoles hadn’t gone a way, they had just been rolled up into different panels on a single screen.

  Vukovich went through these panels one at time now, confirming to Drake that they’d been checked and everything looked nominal. “Okay. Propulsion is GO. FIDO is GO. Gu
idance, GO. EECOM, GO. Telcom, GO. Flight is GO, sir.”

  “Very good.” He touched a key. “Chandrasekhar, you are GO for launch.”

  “Roger and thank you. See you soon.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Chandrasekhar, T-minus thirty seconds.

  Darwin lay on his pad on the control deck. A contoured pillow cradled his head, and velcro straps across his chest and legs would keep him in place against any sideways force during launch, and against floating away in microgravity. Here I am, first person to set foot on an extrasolar planet, and I’m riding in coach. Even though he was amused rather than upset, he didn’t voice the sentiment. Nobody would have any sympathy, least of all Elizabeth. She was strapped to the pad on his right. The only person with a proper couch was Ganesh Patel; as the pilot, he needed it. The weight trade-off for additional specimens was worth it, they’d had to leave enough behind as it was. The things we do for science.

  Somewhere below there was a faint click of actuators closing and opening valves. Darwin heard the whine of turbines spooling up.

  “Pre-chill complete, turbines are coming up to speed,” Patel announced. “T-minus twenty seconds.”

  The whine rose in pitch then leveled out. There were more muffled clicks and thunks, and Patel announced “T-minus ten, ignition sequence start.”

  The engines started and their roar built in volume. This was the critical part. With nothing to hold the ship down while the engines came up to full power, there was a brief moment where the engines had enough power to balance the weight of the loaded vehicle but not enough to lift it off the ground at any speed. A wind gust then could be disastrous. Fortunately, the weather was calm and the engines were sequenced to let just a few of them come to full power first, to verify operation, then the rest would throttle up as fast as the design allowed. It would be fractions of a second, far too fast for human reflexes but a trivial exercise for the computers.

  Darwin felt a hard shove from behind as the rocket lifted, growing in force as the propellant burned and the engines had less mass to push. They were away!

  As best he could with what felt like the weight of two other people on top of him, he let out a cheer. Faintly, over the engine’s roar, he heard others doing the same.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Centauri Station

  “How’s their trajectory?” Drake asked Vukovich.

  “Trajectory is nominal, but their engines are running a little harder to maintain it. They’re still at 100%, they should have started to throttle back to maintain gee-loads.”

  “So they’re burning fuel faster than expected. Cause?”

  “We accounted for the extra mass and higher gravity. High crosswinds aloft would have meant tilting to compensate, the thrust vector would be off-nominal.”

  “Will they have enough delta-vee to make orbit?” Burning extra fuel now might mean not enough later.

  Vukovich checked the numbers, then at the trajectory plot on another of his screens. “Make an orbit, yes, but they’ll be too low for a good rendezvous. It looks like at least a day before the orbit decays.”

  “Only a day? Damn.” Orbital rendezvous was a game of tweaking multiple variables. A lower orbit would mean Chandrasekhar would be pulling ahead of Centauri Station, but to get lower the Station had to lose energy, which meant either going higher, which was the opposite of what they wanted, or thrusting backwards, which would put them even further behind Chandrasekhar unless they did it at exactly the right relative positions in orbit. That could take more than a day.

  “Do we have the delta-vee to catch them before that?” Drake said. There were contingency plans, Vukovich just had to persuade the computers to come up with the right one, if it existed.

  “Maybe. Computer is running the details.” He looked back at the FIDO and Propulsion screens. “Their engines are throttling back now, still on profile but they’ll be fuel-starved at the end.” Running the tanks dry was risky, if the pumps started to cavitate or the engines cut out asymmetrically, bad things could happen. “Four engines shutdown and the others have increased throttle. Looks like they’re handling it.” Either Patel or, more likely given the reaction time needed, the computers had figured out the risk and were taking steps to minimize it by changing the timing on the shutdown sequence.

  “What about rendezvous?”

  “Centauri Station can’t make it. If we undock, either the Heinlein or Anderson could alone.”

  Drake didn’t hesitate. He stabbed the comm button and broadcast station-wide. “All hands, emergency. Prepare for emergency undock sequence now. This is no drill. All hands, prepare for emergency undocking!” He released the button and said to Vukovich, “Greg, you stay here and keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “Aye sir. Which ship is doing the pickup?”

  Drake hadn’t decided. The Anderson was probably better suited, it was designed as a lander so had a heat shield and more maneuverability, but it was still docked with its warp collar, which added a lot of mass. On the other hand, the Heinlein’s warp collar was part of the ship by design. Anderson was better suited without its collar, but Heinlein was better otherwise.

  “Realistically, how quickly can Anderson undock and clear its warp collar?” It had taken Chandrasekhar a half-hour from closing the hatch to releasing its IPM, but they had been taking everything slowly and backing off half a kilometer before separation.

  “Fifteen minutes from closing the hatch to clearing the collar, but that’s not counting going through the checklists before that.”

  “Give me the numbers for first and second rendezvous opportunities using Anderson, but wait one.” He toggled the station-wide channel again. “All hands, report ready.”

  “Krysansky here. All assigned Heinlein personnel are strapped in, hatch is secure, still running the checklist.”

  “Anderson here,” Geoff Tracey responded, “We’re missing Vukovich, remaining crew is secure, we’re closing the hatch now.”

  “I have Vukovich. Continue prep and stand by.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Numbers?” Drake said, addressing Vukovich.

  “First rendezvous window, Anderson leaves in—” he looked at a time on his screen “—twelve minutes. Next one is in twenty hours.”

  Damn it! That wasn’t much wiggle room. “Anderson, status?”

  “We’ll all buttoned up, everything is green. What’s happening?”

  “Geoff, you have eight minutes to undock from station and get to a safe distance to separate from your IPM. Vukovich will upload your flight plan after that. You need to rendezvous with the Chandra.”

  “Say again? Eight min. . .. Roger that, we’re on it.”

  “Uh, Sir?” Vukovich said. “I said fifteen minutes.”

  “You also said first rendezvous opportunity was in twelve, more like eleven now. That number I believe. You did pad your first estimate, didn’t you?”

  Vukovich reddened. “Not by that much.”

  “They’ll make it. Tracey is a damn good pilot. Chandra should be in orbit now. Check the numbers and get them to Anderson.”

  “Yes sir. They’re in low orbit. They’ll need to do a circularization burn in forty minutes, they can do that with maneuvering thrusters.”

  “Thank you,” Drake said. “Anderson, status?”

  “Undocking now, Commodore.” Drake watched as the appropriate indicators on his panel lit up, and faintly heard the clank of retracting docking latches. “Stand by to take control of the IPM.”

  “Whenever you’re ready, as long as it’s within the next six-and-a-half minutes.”

  “Wilco.”

  Drake touched the comm control again. “Chandrasekhar this is Heinlein.”

  “This is Chandrasekhar, go ahead.”

  “We see you’re a little low. The Anderson is on its way to pick you up.”

  “Ah, thank you. Yes, I was beginning to wonder about that. We will just wait here for you then.”

  “Copy that. Vukovich will have
some numbers for you shortly. Sit tight.”

  “Roger.”

  Four minutes later, the Anderson called back in.

  “Heinlein, this is the Anderson. We are cleared from the warp collar and it’s all yours on your mark.”

  “Nice work, Geoff. Mark.”

  “Confirmed. So, what are we doing now?”

  “Dock with Chandra and boost them to a higher orbit, then we’ll work out details for getting the station back together. You have the orbital elements?”

  The was a brief pause before the reply as the Anderson crew checked the data. “That’s affirmative.”

  “Off you go then. You have a spaceship to catch.”

  “Roger that, Anderson is listening out.”

  Chapter 28: Discussing the Findings

  Aboard Centauri Station, in orbit

  With the Chandrasekhar safely docked to the station, and its and the Anderson’s warp collars retrieved, Drake called Sawyer and Darwin into his cabin.

  “All right, I’ve been hearing a lot of rumblings about anomalous results. I’m not sure I like what I think I’m hearing, but some of that may be exaggeration and speculation.”

  “Like what?”

  “Apparently there’s some thought that this planet didn’t develop naturally. What I want to do is call everyone together and get it all on the table. I’d expect some weirdness in another star system, but I think this goes beyond that.”

  “Fair enough. When?”

  “Let’s give the teams a little while to re-settle and get their acts together. Shall we say 0800 tomorrow morning?”

  “I can have the geology team ready by then. George?”

  “Ditto for biology. Anyone else?”

  “Yes, I want input from the Astrophysics team too. This will be an all hands meeting. Questions?”

  There were none.

  “All right, 0800. Go tell your teams, but also let me know the general gist informally before that.”