by Bonnie Doran
Houston ended the connection with the CDC. Hildi handed the mic to Joe, who continued the conversation with Mission Control.
Pete relayed the assignments for the return home. “The CDC wants Hildi home ASAP. NASA agrees. We’ll calculate a return trajectory and use the next available window. Besides Hildi, crew will be Dan, Jasper, and Frank.”
Frank’s mouth dropped open. Why would NASA want him back on the next flight? A quicker court martial?
“Acknowledged.” Joe scratched his head. “Uh, Houston, you mind explaining your reasoning on this one?”
“It’s priority one that Hildi be on the flight. Dan and Jasper are the sickest, so they’re also going. We also want Frank on board.”
“So Shorty, Leonid, Maria, and I will stay.” Joe’s sigh could probably be heard in Mission Control without the use of radio. He’d been due to rotate back to Earth.
“That’s right. The flight surgeon says the four of you are past the danger point, but if any of you get sicker, I want Maria to be there. She has the most medical training except for Hildi.”
“So when are you folks planning another trip up here?”
“Russia will have a Soyuz ready in about three weeks.”
Frank caught Joe’s lopsided smile. “If y’all hold off another week, I can break my own record.” Joe covered his mic and turned to the others. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
Joe’s happy expression puzzled Frank. The old cowboy was a stubborn and prideful codger, always wanting to beat his own accomplishments. Personally, Frank wouldn’t have wanted to stay nine months and deal with the long recovery period after losing all that muscle tone in space. Six months in physical therapy? No thanks. On the other hand, if Frank stayed on the station, the media might ease up on him. No. Better to face the music now than let dread of the unknown chew up his insides.
After a muted conversation in Houston, Steve took over the mic. “Joe, I know you’re disappointed—in spite of the prospect of staying up there two hundred and seventy days—but that’s my decision.”
“Yes, sir.”
Frank huffed a breath, struggling to keep his voice level. He didn’t deserve the driver’s seat. “Why do you want me as pilot?”
“Because I want one healthy pilot on board.” The snap of a breaking pencil betrayed Steve’s strain.
Hildi’s eyes widened at his angry outburst. Frank only nodded. The man probably hadn’t slept in weeks.
“Dan’s too sick to do anything. Jasper’s healthy enough to be commander on the return, but you’re more experienced as pilot. I need you at the helm. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll have to deal with a shortage of fuel since we overloaded Valiant for the trip up.”
“Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars,” Jasper quipped.
Frank smiled, but the thought of flying without wiggle room for emergencies set his teeth on edge.
“Leonid, I’m sorry.” Steve’s tone turned apologetic. “You were due to rotate back, too. Your liaison here suggested you stay and continue to represent Russia in the spirit of international cooperation.”
“So, Houston, when do you want these folks to leave? I’m not complaining about our extra guests, mind, but we’re kinda cramped.” Joe drawled into the mic.
“Eight hours.” CAPCOM Pete returned to his duties. “We want reentry ASAP. The CDC wants Hildi’s expertise and her completed work yesterday.”
Frank’s stomach tightened. He had a bad feeling about this. Then he glanced at Dan.
His friend shivered with fever. He needed a hospital, and any delay would only worsen his condition. Frank would rather risk anything but that. “We can do it.”
Everyone gave a thumbs-up. Joe nodded. “The posse here’s rarin’ to go.”
“Acknowledged, ISS. Keep us informed. Houston out.”
Frank’s guilt and gratitude chased each other around the track of his mind. Was God giving him a chance to redeem himself? He turned to the others. “I still don’t understand. Joe and Shorty have plenty of experience—”
“But not as much as you.” Dan coughed, trying to catch his breath.
“Some experience.”
Dan’s eyes drooped with fatigue and fever, but he gripped Frank’s shoulder. “Stop blaming yourself. If I’d been the pilot when the accident happened, it would have happened on my watch.”
This time, Frank didn’t shrug off Dan. He welcomed the reassurance.
Joe leaned toward him. “Bottom line, the flight director gave you an assignment. End of discussion.”
Dan wheezed. “You have your orders, soldier.”
Frank stared at him. They used to call each other “soldier” when they were kids. Hope surged like a tide finally coming back to shore. Could God repair their friendship? A disturbing thought intruded. Did he really want the friendship repaired? Yes.
Frank scooted to his corner of the station and packed his personal belongings. Remembering his desperate prayers after Jasper pulled him from the brink of suicide, he added another one to the pile. “Lord, I’ve really made a mess of things with Dan. Help me make it right. And please, take control of my anger. I can’t do it by myself. Amen.”
He waited for some sign. He didn’t feel any different, but what was he expecting? A voice from the stars? He’d have to take it on faith that God would help. Guess I’m a little out of practice when it comes to trust.
The tight schedule shoved further thought aside. They removed the lab’s curtain, the last psychological barrier in the war against the virus. Frank felt exposed, as if he’d forgotten his underwear. Hildi had insisted on frequent use of hand sanitizer, but Jasper claimed it made his fingers too wrinkled to work.
Frank rolled his sleep cocoon into a compact cylinder and tried to stuff it into his over-packed bag. Pack. His thoughts swirled. He always packed one thing after another into his bag until it verged on splitting at the seams. Maybe anger was the same way. But how did he unpack? God didn’t whisper the answer, but Frank knew what he needed to do.
He propelled himself into Dan’s room. Dan had finished stowing his belongings and clung to a handhold, jerking with every cough.
“Dan?”
“What’s up?” Dan’s croak made Frank cringe.
No one told him it would be so hard. Frank’s throat tightened, but he launched the words anyway. “Uh, I just wanted to apologize again. I’ve been such a doofus.”
“Yes, you have.” Dan’s smile couldn’t hide the effort it took him to speak.
Frank swallowed. “Will you forgive me?”
“Yes. Will you forgive me?”
“Forgive you? For what?”
“We used to be friends.” Dan squeezed his eyes shut. “I knew you were fooling around, and I said nothing. I should have said something.”
Frank’s blood pressure bounced between anger and sorrow. He wished his friend had confronted him. But would it have made a difference? No. He knew himself better now.
He paused, weighing his words. Could he forgive? Frank searched for his jealousy and found it lurking around a corner. Get lost. “I forgive you.”
Frank extended his hand. It wasn’t good enough for Dan. He grabbed Frank into a bear hug. Tears puddled in Frank’s eyes. Although he wiped them on his sleeve, droplets escaped, hanging in the air like jewels.
****
Frank didn’t relish becoming a human sandwich. Objects had no weight in space, but they certainly had inertia. Grunting, he slowed the movement of some equipment destined for the capsule before it rammed him against the hatch. “Hey, I can’t stop a locomotive, and that last piece was coming like a freight train.”
“Sorry.” Dan’s halfhearted smile faded into a grimace. “Don’t know my own strength.”
“Ha. You have as much strength as a teacup poodle.”
Hildi floated over and touched Dan’s forehead. “Still warm. Have you taken any acetaminophen lately?”
“Yes, Mommy. Ten minutes ago.” Dan
’s smile barely cracked his weary face.
“You’re too sick to keep up the bucket brigade. Go lie down. I’m putting you on oxygen.”
Dan gave up without protest. He must be sicker than he looked. At least his buddy had some sense.
Hildi kissed Dan’s temple.
Frank stuffed his anger back into his bag of thoughts. Stop acting like a teenager. Two of his best friends were batting eyes at each other, and he couldn’t even conjure up a bit of happiness for them. He had no one to blame but himself for Hildi breaking off their engagement after he’d shattered it with his flings. Dan would never do that to her. But Frank’s jealousy still stank like rotten meat.
Hildi nudged the next box of supplies to Frank, who guided it to Shorty. Dan clung to a handhold in the grip of a coughing fit, his face concealed behind an oxygen mask.
“You OK?” Frank frowned. Dan was not okay, but he seldom complained.
Dan held up his hand until he could talk again. “Yeah. This flu is no picnic.”
Moans and coughs surrounded them. Frank shook his head. Why was he spared while the others suffered?
His mind snapped back to the piloting job ahead of him. Dan claimed that the lightning strike hadn’t caused any permanent damage. Frank still worried.
With the gear stowed, only good-byes remained. The recycled air of the station would soon be history, replaced by the not-quite-so-stale air of Valiant. Frank couldn’t wait for the first smell of home.
Dan, Hildi, and Jasper hugged everyone and entered the capsule. Frank lagged behind. He turned to face the remaining astronauts and forced out another long-overdue apology. “I’m sorry. I lost control of my temper and broke the vial. I put all of your lives at risk.”
They shifted their weightless stance but said nothing. Frank’s hope for redemption faded. He turned to go.
Joe broke the uncomfortable silence. “It’s gone and forgotten. Don’t let anyone back on Earth pester you about it.”
Frank nodded, not trusting his trussed tongue. They group-hugged.
“Y’all get off my station.” Joe’s gruff voice didn’t fool Frank, who saw the tears welling up. “You’re holding up progress.”
With one last grasp of Joe’s hand, Frank sped into Valiant and took the pilot’s seat to Jasper’s right, Hildi and Dan behind them. The hatch whooshed shut. They check-listed every system on the spacecraft. All nominal.
“Houston, this is Valiant. Ready to undock.” Jasper craned his neck to the crew behind him. “You backseat drivers got any objections?” Frank caught Dan’s tired grin and Hildi’s thumbs up.
Dan closed his eyes and croaked, “May the Lord keep us in the palm of His hand.”
Frank agreed with every word.
“This is Houston. You are GO for undocking procedure. Godspeed.”
CAPCOM Pete’s order sent exhilaration down Frank’s spine. Time to rock and roll. He took a deep breath.
Jasper slipped into command mode. “Release docking clamps.”
Frank pulled on a handle. “Clamps released.”
“Fire attitude jets.”
Frank eased the capsule away from ISS. Valiant had a different feel than Reconciliation. He shrugged. Each of the simulators back in Houston had its own quirks. This was no different. With the stress and lack of sleep during the last few days, his sensitivity had kicked into overdrive.
“Wow, look at that.” Hildi pointed out the window. “I think I can see the Great Wall of China.”
“You can see forever.” Jasper sang a few lines of the song, his voice raspy. Dan tried to join in but then sank into another coughing fit.
“You’re gonna make it.” Frank reached behind him and grasped Dan’s shoulder. He had to make it.
“Yeah.”
Frank’s gaze lingered on his friend. He’d never seen any astronaut so sick during a mission. He glanced at Hildi for reassurance, but the sight below them had captured her attention.
Dan’s hacking increased. Hildi offered him a couple of pills. He was snoring within a half hour.
“What’d you give him?” Frank raised an eyebrow.
“Just Tylenol.” She grinned. “Tylenol PM. He needed to sleep, and he wasn’t about to do so voluntarily.”
Jasper nodded his approval. “Good move. Maybe he’ll feel better in a few hours.”
“Maybe.”
Frank piloted Valiant into a parking orbit a few miles from the station’s docking collar. They would await the command for reentry while catching a few ZZZ’s. The wait would allow NASA to calculate a new trajectory that would avoid the typhoon brewing near the original splashdown site.
“Don’t worry,” CAPCOM said. “The ships are already cruising into position. Super Carrier George W. Bush will head recovery.” He paused. “They have an excellent team of doctors on board.”
“Acknowledged.” Jasper glanced at Dan. “Tell them to get ready for four weary astronauts.” His voice turned serious. “Can you give us an update on our fuel situation for reentry maneuvers?”
“Extra consumption will be minimal,” CAPCOM claimed. “Get some sleep.”
Frank shook his head. Houston’s vague response indicated Valiant would need every drop. Nothing he could do about it except whisper an extra prayer. He willed his steeled muscles to relax and wiggled into a more comfortable position for a catnap. Dandy Dan snorted in his sleep.
“Night-night, Valiant.”
Jasper answered. “Roger. Wake us in a few hours, will you? Wouldn’t want to miss splashdown.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Acknowledged. Valiant out.”
Frank shut his eyes, just for a moment…
****
A trumpet’s blare of reveille jolted Frank awake. He glared at the radio.
Jasper and Hildi groaned. Frank held up his hand. “All in favor of telling Mission Control they’re calling in sick today, say aye.”
“Aye.”
Hildi touched Dan’s arm. “How do you feel?”
Dan shook his head as if to clear the fog from his brain. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his jumpsuit. “Still like death warmed over, but at least I slept.” He stared at Hildi and narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute. What did you do to me?”
Hildi’s mischievous smile answered him. Frank knew that smile. Apparently, so did Dan. “Not fair.”
She shrugged. “You needed some shuteye.”
Dan’s pallor remained unchanged in spite of the extra rest. Frank wished Hildi had created an instant cure instead of a vaccine to prevent others from catching the flu. He gulped air in response to his friend’s labored breathing.
Jasper radioed Mission Control that they were all fully awake now, thank you very much.
CAPCOM Pete chuckled. “Valiant, the flight surgeon asks for Hildi’s visual assessment of the crew.”
Hildi checked everyone’s temperature, including her own. She spoke into her mic. “Houston, Frank still has no sign of the virus. Jasper and I have mild cases.” She paused. “Dan has double pneumonia. He should be hospitalized as soon as we land.”
Dan glared at her. “I feel better, honestly.”
Jasper craned his neck. “And pigs pilot space shuttles.”
What would the short time under g load do to Dan’s lungs? Frank’s momentary discomfort would be nothing compared to Dan’s.
“Earth to Frank, Earth to Frank.” Jasper grinned as Frank tore his focus back to reentry procedure. They checked off the final systems. Jasper switched to command voice. “De-orbit on my mark.”
Frank gripped the joystick, eager to fire the main engine that would slow the capsule and tip them into reentry. Going home. Always the best—and saddest—part of any mission.
“Thank you, ISS,” Hildi whispered.
Frank checked the instrument panel one last time.
A light blacked out.
****
“What happened?” Hildi scrutinized the dark indicator as her heart plunged into a deeper dark.
“Don’t know,” Jasper said in a clipped voice.
“Must have been…the lightning strike.” Dan’s voice faltered.
Hildi frowned as she turned to him. “Don’t talk.” She patted his arm.
“Got to. At launch, the instruments went out.” Dan paused to wheeze in a breath. “But not for this long.”
Hildi’s stomach did an I’m-in-the-Vomit-Comet twist.
Jasper took control. “Houston, this is Valiant. Still unable to restore the drogue indicator. We could use a little illumination on our problem.”
How could the man joke at a time like this?
CAPCOM responded. “This is Houston. We copy your problem and are working on a solution.”
Jasper glanced at the other astronauts. “Anything we should try? I’m open to suggestions.”
“Reboot…computer.” Dan followed his statement with another coughing fit. His lungs should have flown out of his mouth by now.
Hildi’s worry pounded on the door of her faith like an obnoxious salesman. “Isn’t that dangerous? As in, we might not get the computer back?” No computer, no control, no nothing.
Frank’s grim look could have made the bluebird of happiness die of a heart attack. “What choice do we have? If it doesn’t work—”
“We’ll be in the same boat. Uh, spacecraft.” Jasper craned his neck at Dan, who nodded. “Houston, Colonel Stockton feels the situation will resolve itself if we reboot.”
“Negative, Valiant. We’ll let you know what we determine is your best course of action.”
Hildi willed her heart rate to slow as they waited. And waited. Frank death-gripped the controls. Dan moaned. Even Jasper looked nervous. Nervous? Hildi was ready to bolt and leave her skin behind.
Jasper keyed his mic. “Uh, Houston, all our indicators are GO except for the drogue. Please advise.”
Hildi’s breath caught in her throat. If the small parachute failed, it wouldn’t drag the main ones out to slow the capsule’s descent. If they hit at terminal velocity…
The astronauts waited as Mission Control apparently had a long conversation about the problem. Maybe they were taking bets on where the spacecraft would splat.
“Valiant, this is Houston. We think it’s the indicator light that’s malfunctioned.”
