Dark Biology

by Bonnie Doran

  “Indeed. Tell them it’s time for bed.”

  Dan cleared his throat and returned to CAPCOM mode. “Reconciliation, this is Houston.”

  “Larry here. Hey, I hope this won’t take long. We’ve had supper and are ready to bed down.”

  “Finish up and go to bed. That’s an order from the flight director. We want you fresh for docking tomorrow, Frank.”

  “Acknowledged, Houston. The crew’s settling in their sacks except for Jasper. He seems a bit tangled up in the sheets.”

  “Am not,” said a muffled voice. “I’m snug as a bug.”

  “All right, people. Beddy bye until 8:00 AM, Houston time. We’ve got something special planned for your alarm clock.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Larry groaned.

  ****

  The strains of “Good Morning, Starshine” blared from the speakers and startled Hildi out of a sound sleep. Groans from Larry and Frank accompanied the wake-up call. Jasper whistled along until Frank glared at him. She shook her head. Leave it to the flight director to pick something as corny as the fields in Iowa.

  She slipped out of her mummy bag. Rolling her tongue around her mouth confirmed her suspicion. Her breath could kill three Doberman pinschers. Brushing her teeth was her first priority.

  “Rise and shine, people.” Dan’s voice from Houston sounded entirely too cheery.

  “Houston, this is Reconciliation. Acknowledging your sick sense of humor.” Larry yawned.

  Dan chuckled. “Hey, you sleepwalking?”

  “Can’t do that in space.”

  Dan changed into his CAPCOM authority voice. “Busy day, folks. Get some breakfast and prepare to catch up to ISS.”

  Hildi listened to the rest of the mission chatter with one part of her brain as she stowed her bag. This time, Frank and Jasper weren’t playing football. They were all a bit groggy from a short night’s sleep. Well, all except Jasper.

  She’d drawn kitchen duty, so she added water to three bags of powdered eggs, smooshed them around, and put them in the microwave. She opted for oatmeal for herself. Everyone ate a tortilla, the only form of bread allowed in space since it didn’t crumble. Crumbs in the instruments could foul them up something fierce. She slathered the tortilla with peanut butter. Coffee and orange juice completed breakfast. Frank cleaned up, a chore that required pitching all the containers into the trash compactor. She was grateful that meals in space didn’t require much work. She hated cooking, even when the eggs stayed on the plate.

  After they strapped in, Frank initiated a rocket burn to adjust their orbital inclination and join the exact orbit of ISS.

  Frank’s shoulders tensed. “Attitude control feels a little wonky again.”

  Hildi’s insides flipped when she heard the worry in Frank’s voice. More problems, or was he just being his grumpy old self?

  “Let me try.” Larry exchanged seats with Frank, an interesting ballet without gravity. “I don’t feel anything.” He floated back to his flight chair.

  Frank fiddled with the joystick then huffed out a breath. “It’s gone now.”

  The commander flipped on his talk-to-Houston voice. “Mission Control, this is Reconciliation. Request another reading on our attitude jets.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Hildi willed her breathing to slow. She didn’t want Houston’s flight surgeon to panic. She heard mumbles through the radio as Dan consulted with the specialists in Mission Control. His CAPCOM voice returned. “Larry, our instruments do not indicate a problem. You sure Frank didn’t sneeze or something?”

  “No!” Frank’s outburst fried the air.

  “Uh, Houston, that’s a negative.”

  “OK, Larry. Reconciliation, you’re still GO for docking.”

  “Roger.” Larry swiveled his head. “Frank, what do you think?”

  Hildi knew that stubborn stance when she saw it, even with Frank sitting down. “I could swear the control felt sloppy a minute ago.”

  Jasper chimed in. “Maybe you weren’t awake.”

  “I know what I felt.”

  Larry glared at both of them. “Cool your jets.”

  Jasper clamped his mouth shut.

  Frank had the decency to mumble, “Sorry.”

  Larry nodded then cleared his throat. “Prepare for docking.”

  ****

  Hildi’s heart hummed as she spotted the station, a bright star in the heavens. The long and spindly object, bristling with antennae, soon filled the window. Home for the next six months.

  They approached the American docking port at an inch per second. Frank guided the capsule forward, one hand poised over the autopilot switch per protocol. No one trusted the software. The tiny jet bursts hissed, but Hildi couldn’t feel any acceleration.

  A sudden lurch snapped her body against her flight chair.

  Frank grabbed the controls and slowed their approach. Not enough.

  The astronauts jerked forward against their restraints. An odd crunch rang through the capsule. From outside in the silence of space? Impossible, unless…Hildi’s heart galloped around in her chest.

  Larry’s voice took on an ominous calm. “What happened, Frank?”

  Frank stiffened. “Autopilot failed. The jets jammed. How am I supposed to know?”

  Larry grasped his shoulder. “Run the tests. We’ll figure it out.” He keyed his mic. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  Hildi’s nerves knotted. James Lovell had uttered the same words after the explosion on Apollo 13.

  “Acknowledged, Reconciliation. What’s your status?” Dan’s nothing-can-ruffle-me voice sounded frayed.

  “Uh, Houston, we’re still analyzing the situation.”

  The astronauts checked every instrument on the capsule. Jasper pointed at the viewport. All Hildi could see was the skin of the station. She gulped.

  “Uh, Houston, as far as we can figure out, we rammed the port.” Larry scratched his head.

  “Houston, this is ISS. They sure did.” The new voice had a Texas drawl as thick as Rio Grande mud. “This whole thing shuddered like a rattlesnake with a bad cold.”

  Hildi chuckled as Jasper stage whispered, “That’s Cowboy Joe for you.”

  “The blasted control malfunctioned again.” Frank’s voice rose.

  “Enough.” Larry gripped the pilot’s shoulder. “You want to try it manually, hotshot?”

  Frank shook off Larry’s hand. “You bet.”

  “Houston, Reconciliation. Request permission to re-dock manually.”

  “Reconciliation, you are GO for re-docking maneuver. We still show no problems with the controls.”

  Jasper muttered, “Well, that’s a relief.”

  Frank purpled from rage…or fear. “They malfunctioned. It wasn’t me.”

  “Your attitude”—Larry enunciated every word—“does not solve the problem.”

  Frank huffed out a breath then nodded.

  Hildi’s insides refused to settle as a debate raged over the next couple of hours.

  “Let’s back up and see if we damaged anything.” Larry spoke calmly, as if he were used to crash dockings.

  “Roger.” Frank spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Prepare for undocking.”

  Hildi tightened her death grip on the couch.

  “Here goes.” Frank pulled back on the joystick. The jets puffed.

  The spacecraft stayed put.

  Frank tried again.

  No effect.

  “What’s wrong?” Worry creased Larry’s forehead.

  “We’re stuck,” Frank said.

  Larry keyed his mic. “Mission Control, this is Reconciliation. Unable to undock from ISS. Please advise.”

  Frank’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to spin this sucker to the right. Hang on.”

  “Wait!” Larry roared.

  Hildi’s stomach spun one way while the capsule spun the other. Reconciliation lurched free. Frank corrected the spacecraft’s spin until it matched ISS again.

 
; “You had no authority.” Larry spoke through gritted teeth.

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Frank’s defiance thickened the air.

  “Next time, you wait for instructions from Mission Control and from me as commander. Understood?” Larry’s bellow rang in Hildi’s ears.

  Frank slowly sagged like a deflating balloon. “Yes, sir.”

  Hildi released a breath as the tension eased.

  Larry gave a curt nod. “OK, Frank. Back us up a bit.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Reconciliation, Houston. What’s your situation?”

  “Houston, we have successfully undocked. Assessing damage visually.”

  Hildi stretched her neck to see through the forward ports. Dents and gouges glared at them from the docking ring’s surface.

  Larry leaned forward and peered at the damage. “Looks like we scraped it up. Doesn’t look serious from here, but we should ask the boys on the station.”

  “Acknowledged, Reconciliation. ISS, can you get someone to evaluate?”

  “This is ISS. Joe and Maria will go.” A slight Russian accent identified the speaker as Leonid, an astrophysicist.

  Hildi sighed. This would take a while. At least the new Z-1 space suits were quicker to get into than the old ones and didn’t require pre-breathing.

  An hour later, Joe and Maria emerged from the station’s airlock. Joe waved at them against a backdrop of stars. “Howdy, folks.” They tethered themselves and then used handholds to pull themselves toward the damaged collar. “It ain’t too bad. I think we can get it fixed in no time.”

  Joe turned his body to face the capsule. His voice hissed over the radio. “Now, your spacecraft there is a horse of a different color entirely. The mating ring has a dent the size of Texas. They cain’t dock with that.”

  “ISS, Houston. Will it compromise the capsule’s integrity during reentry?”

  “Might.”

  Hildi’s heart plunged into a tar pit. They’d never dock.

  They’d never go home.

  ****

  Don’t panic. Hildi willed her breathing to slow as time crept like a snail on tranquilizers.

  Frank threw up his hands. “How long is this going to take? We can’t wait forever for NASA to make up its mind.”

  Jasper rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at the station. “I think our best bet is reentry. Take our chances with the damage we sustained.”

  Hildi shook her head. “So close.”

  “The first manned mission of the Rigel capsule, and I mess it up.” Frank scowled.

  Larry gazed at Frank. “You said yourself you did nothing wrong. When we get back, and we will get back, the techs will crawl all over this spacecraft to find the malfunction, and they’ll find it.” He gripped Frank’s forearm.

  “I wanted to eat hot dogs on the station.” Jasper’s wistful sigh drew chuckles from Hildi and Larry.

  Frank stared off into cold space. “That’s not going to happen.”

  The radio crackled. Hildi tensed, awaiting NASA’s orders.

  “Reconciliation, this is Houston. The team here sees no problem with reentry. You are GO for—”

  A raucous buzz startled Hildi. The master alarm.

  Frank cursed and pointed to the oxygen gauge. “Larry, we’ve got a leak.”

  “Where?”

  Frank scanned the instruments. “Nose.”

  “OK. Frank, see if you can reach it.” Larry gripped the arm rests, but his voice showed no disturbance. “Jasper, help him.”

  Frank shot out of his chair and pulled himself to the nose of the capsule. He cocked his head. “Hissing. I think it’s near the docking clamps.” Frank pried off a panel and handed it to Jasper. He reached in to his elbows and grunted. “Can’t get to it. How much time do we have?”

  Larry peered at the gauges. “Not much. Not enough to get to the Russian port.”

  “Anybody got any gum?” Jasper’s attempt at humor died in the air.

  “Suit up.”

  Hildi scrambled to obey Larry’s command. She ignored shaky fingers as she struggled into her EVA suit. She panted. Was it her imagination or was the air getting thinner? She took a slow, calming breath. Now is not the time to hyperventilate.

  She secured her helmet and checked Jasper’s seals. Larry straightened as he pressed the radio controls with gloved hands. “Houston, could use a few suggestions.” Larry’s voice raised in pitch a notch.

  A slight pause. “Copy that, Larry.” The radio went silent. Time stretched into infinity.

  A Texas drawl shattered the tension. “Houston, this is Joe. They can’t dock, they can’t go back, and they can’t stay out there forever. I respectfully request permission to lasso that thing and pull her in.”

  Hildi grinned as her mind filled with the image of Cowboy Joe riding a pressure-suited horse.

  “ISS, Reconciliation.” Larry spoke as if he were thinking aloud. “We could shoot you a line, tie it off, and spacewalk hand over hand. Houston, do you concur?”

  “We concur. You are GO for EVA.”

  EVA. Astronaut speak for Extra Vehicular Activity. In other words, hang your body out into space and hope your tether holds.

  “Roger.” Larry turned to his crewmates. “Well, any volunteers to throw a rope?”

  “I’ll do it.” Jasper grinned. “Let me show that Texas cowpoke how we do things in Wyoming.”

  “Houston, you copy?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Larry turned to the others, sadness coloring his expression. “Never lost a command before.”

  Bile rose in Hildi’s throat. She knew what was coming.

  Larry’s next command rang in her ears. “OK, people. Prepare to abandon ship.”

  Abandon ship. Words Hildi never expected to hear on a routine flight. She shoved aside the words from a half-forgotten book. “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”

  ****

  Frank flashed a reassuring smile at Hildi, but she didn’t acknowledge it. Probably a bit preoccupied with the change of plans. He’d hoped for a little support from her, sympathy, something. He huffed out a breath, fogging his faceplate, wishing he could replay the last few minutes. Larry hadn’t said anything, but Frank could hear the blame as clearly as a telepathic link. He hadn’t regained control after the computer botched the docking, and he’d made it worse by pulling Reconciliation free. He should have known better than to act without orders. Now they had to perform an Extra Vehicular Activity to reach the station. Extra for “extra dangerous.”

  Pulling himself back into his seat, Frank used tiny bursts from the attitude jets to keep Reconciliation aligned. The Reaction Control System, or RCS in astronaut-speak, fought his every move. “Having a hard time keeping her stabilized. I think the jets got damaged.”

  Larry nodded. “Just hold her long enough so Jasper can shoot over the rope and Leonid can get the robotic arm in place.”

  Frank nodded, putting every ounce of concentration into the task. The system sneered at him.

  After Larry vented the capsule, Jasper threw open the hatch. He held a puff pistol, NASA’s latest toy. Joe and Maria hovered near the station’s docking ring, ready to grab the line as soon as Jasper shot it.

  The capsule pitched. The damage must have affected the angle at which the jets fired. The change made it hard to control, but Frank compensated quickly. Jasper rode it out like a bucking bronco.

  “How’s it going over there, pardners?” Joe could have asked about the weather in the same matter-of-fact voice.

  Jasper stuck a hand out of the hatch and waved. “Be there in a sec, cowboy. My horse is a bit balky.”

  Larry frowned. “Frank, can you keep her steady?”

  “Piece of cake.” Frank’s nonchalant words didn’t fool the churning in his gut. NASA wouldn’t have allowed such dangerous maneuvers so close to the station unless there was no choice.

  Jasper attached a short tether to his suit, secured the other end to the capsule, and eased his body out
of the hatch. “Don’t worry, Joe. I used to own a gun.” After bracing himself, Jasper aimed and pulled the trigger.

  Frank’s gaze followed the line’s trajectory while he kept most of his attention on the joystick. The weighted end hit Joe in the breadbasket.

  “You got me.” Joe clutched his middle and bent double.

  “I also won most of the sharpshooter contests, old-timer.” Jasper gripped his end of the line and knotted a thick rope to it.

  “Hey, who’re you callin’ old?”

  Frank shook his head. He was getting tired of the Wild West banter while he worked his tail off.

  “You OK, hotshot?” Larry’s concern was an intrusion into his black thoughts.

  “Yeah.” Frank forced a smile.

  Jasper leaned out. “You ready, Joe?”

  “You bet.”

  Joe and Maria pulled in the rope hand over hand. Then Joe whipped the end around a handle, tied it off, and held up his hands. Frank couldn’t remember where he’d seen that gesture. Oh, yeah. Calf roping. Figures.

  Jasper knotted his end of the line to a handhold. “Yahoo!”

  The cowboys were at it again.

  “I used to rope heifers, too, folks. Got the fastest time, more often than not.” If Joe’s chest had puffed out any more, he’d have burst a hole in his suit.

  Frank immediately sobered. A hole in the suit equaled death. An astronaut never let his imagination wander in that direction. And it wouldn’t take much. One snag on a protruding antenna.

  Larry keyed his mic. “Houston, this is Reconciliation. Line secured.”

  “Roger.”

  “This is ISS.” Leonid’s voice entered the exchange. “Will activate robotic arm and hold Reconciliation.”

  “ISS, this is Houston. Go get her.”

  Jasper floated back to his seat.

  Gazing at his fellow astronauts, the commander spoke with a tight voice. “Houston, this is Reconciliation.”

  “Go ahead, Larry.” Dan, the cool cucumber.

  “We’re going EVA. This is our last transmission. Reconciliation out.”

  Frank stared through the port as Jasper hooked his suit’s tether to the hastily tied line. The robotic arm grabbed hold of the capsule. Later, someone in NASA would figure out what to do with the crippled ship. Jasper and Hildi would transfer to the station while Frank controlled the spacecraft up to the last minute. Then he’d EVA with Larry taking the rear. Captain is always the last to leave. Stupid naval tradition. It should be him. Malfunction or not, the accident happened on his watch.