Orbital Maneuvers

by R Davison

  The thought of friends brought Paul’s mind to his co-workers and how much he enjoyed the time that they spent together designing the experiments that were deployed on this mission. He enjoyed the late nights working against the clock to get experiments ready for launch, the technical challenges that popped up out of nowhere, and the inspiration that mysteriously surfaced to meet these challenges. Those were very hectic times, yet they brought the entire group together, closer than they had ever been. He smiled to himself as he remembered the last party they had before the launch, how everyone ended up in the pool—fully clothed— including Mary, his wife.

  She was most determined to throw the perfect party and to remain the calm, cool hostess. She was madder than a wet hen when she dragged herself out of the pool, and she showed it by literally picking Paul up and dumping him into the pool again! Paul heard himself laughing out loud and he quickly looked around to see if Jerry had heard him. The moment of joy quickly turned to anguish as he realized that he would no longer hear Mary’s laughter or touch her soft hair. The tears welled up in his eyes as he fought to force thoughts of Mary and the children out of his mind. He was quickly losing the battle. Silently, he released everything in his hands and floated over to the personal hygiene compartment. Closing the door behind him, he allowed the memories and the tears, to flow.

  Jerry came out of the sleeping compartment pushing his bag in front of him. He stopped to see the compartment empty, except for the things Paul had, which were now floating around the cabin. He started to look around for Paul, but muffled noises coming from the personal hygiene compartment caught his attention. He floated over to the door when he suddenly realized the noises he heard were stifled sobs. Looking at the floating objects in the middle of the room, he recognized Paul’s bag and now he realized where Paul was. Quietly, Jerry floated over and gathered up Paul’s belongings and secured it along with his bag. He then gathered up the canisters Paul had asked him to get and without a word, ushered it all to the docking tunnel and onto the station. As he passed through the tunnel, he could still faintly hear Paul’s tormented sobs. Jerry knew now, more than ever, that he had to quickly work out the details.

  XIV

  Jerry found the rest of the crew in the galley creating a list of all the material they had brought over from the shuttle. He found an empty locker where he quietly stowed away the lithium hydroxide canisters. After he secured Paul’s bag to the outside of the locker, so that Paul would see it when he came in, he shoved his own bag in an adjacent locker. Susan looked over toward Jerry, and asked, “Where’s Paul?”

  “He was taking care of business…ah…nature calls, you know…” Jerry answered in a casual tone. He was not sure whether to stay or leave. Leaving was the most desirable thing to do, but that would raise questions and suspicions, which he wanted none of. His decision was placed on hold, when Ivan asked him to detail what they were able to bring over for the inventory list. Jerry had not paid too much attention to what Paul had carried over and little more to what he was instructed to bring over. He thought for a moment and then rattled off a list of items he remembered, even if the totals were not accurate, at least the content was somewhat correct.

  “Thank you, Jerry,” Ivan said. “Susan, I think we have about all that is practical to remove from the shuttle at this time. Is there anything else you would care to bring over?”

  “I have to get my stuff, and I want to bring over Jill’s belongings too. Have you gotten everything you wanted Ivan?”

  “Yes, I brought over everything that I needed on the last trip.”

  “Okay then. I guess all that is left is to make sure the shuttle is set up for the remote control separation and button her up. If you could take care of that, Ivan.”

  “No problem. I’ll get on it right away.”

  Ivan left the room just as Paul entered. Paul returned Ivan’s greeting with a quiet voice and kept his head down. Jerry noticed Paul’s eyes were swollen and red. “Paul, your stuff is hanging over there,” Jerry said, and pointed toward the bag floating by the wall of lockers on the far side of the room.

  Paul looked over to the bag and nodded a thank you to Jerry. He was not feeling too sociable at this time and would rather have been someplace else, but he derived some comfort in being close to the people he has shared so much with—and maybe the only people he had left. He looked to Susan, and asked, “Are we all set with the shuttle?”

  “Yes, Ivan’s going over to set up the remote control link now. If there is anything else you need, now is the time to get it.”

  “No, I’m all set.” Paul was sure that his bloodshot eyes and red nose were a dead giveaway to his lapse in self-control, but was glad that Susan ignored his appearance and did not ask any questions.

  “Well, we should be hearing from Korolev Control shortly. I’ll be right back, I have to gather up a few things.” With that, Susan left the room to Jerry, Paul, Alexander and Nicholas. She took her time floating to the shuttle, debating with herself if this were the right thing to do. She used to be able to make decisions with very little trouble, but not any more. She was continuously second-guessing herself—although she knew this was the right thing to do (or was it), she could not get past the fact that she was going to cast aside a billion dollar piece of equipment. She knew that it was useless to them and would never return to Earth, but was it the right thing to do? She looked at the walls of the middeck as she made her way over to the sleeping section to get her things. How much effort was put into making this shuttle? How many miles had it flown and safely returned her crew to Earth? Susan now knew why the captains went down with their ships—it was easier to do that, then to abandon them. There was a bond here, between the captain and the ship, her ship, which she had not realized before. Even though it had hardly been a week or so that she was really in command of Endeavour, she still felt that it was her ship. Susan knew that this line of thinking was only going to make it more difficult for her to do what had to be done, so she tried her best to push these thoughts away and turned her attention to getting her own, and Jill’s, belongings.

  Quietly, Susan packed her things into her bag and then proceeded to gather Jill’s personal effects. This was much harder to do than she thought it would be. Everything she touched brought back different memories of Jill, from the first day they met to the last words they exchanged. She realized how much she really missed Jill as a companion and friend, not just as a crewmember. Their friendship went far beyond being mere crewmates on a mission. Stepping back from the commander’s role, Susan began to understand just how profoundly Jill had had an impact on her life. She fought to stop the tears by focusing on what they had left to do to get home. They were not out of the woods yet, and still had a long road to travel, she reminded herself. She heard Ivan making his way down to the middeck and quickly packed the rest of Jill’s personal effects. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she floated out on the middeck and caught up with Ivan.

  “I thought I heard someone down here,” Ivan said when he saw Susan.

  “I had to get the rest of my stuff.” Susan could not mention Jill’s name right now without losing her composure. She changed the subject quickly, “Is everything set up with the shuttle?”

  “Yes, everything checks out okay.” Ivan stopped and looked at Susan, “Do you check out okay?”

  Susan stopped and stammered, “I…ah…what do you mean?”

  “You are not looking so good at the moment. Is everything alright with you?”

  “Well…I’m okay. I mean…I guess I’m just wondering if this is the best thing to do.”

  “What alternatives do you have at this time? Do you still feel that our best chance of getting back to Earth is to wait and not rush to deorbit in the CRV?”

  “Yes, I still feel that way,” Susan replied, but still not feeling any more confident in her decision.

  “Every decision you make will come after weighing the alternatives.” Ivan said. “You make your choice on what action to ta
ke based on your training, experience, knowledge and intuition. You cannot afford to lose confidence in your ability to lead, especially not now. You want your crew to have faith in you, that you know what you are doing. If they do not have that, then they will not give you the cooperation you need to succeed. Susan, do not lose faith in yourself and your abilities. You are the commander of this mission and you were not given that position lightly. There were a lot of other people who were turned down for this mission. You were chosen.”

  “I know that. It just seems that casting Endeavour aside is so extreme. I keep asking myself, is there anyway to save her?”

  “And what answer do you find?”

  “What I find is, no, there is no way to save her,” Susan said in a dejected tone.

  Ivan turned to face Susan and put his hands on her shoulders. “Susan, the path to a decision may be clear but that does not mean that the execution of that decision will be easy. That is part of the burden of command.” Ivan’s hands squeezed Susan’s shoulder tightly as he continued, “You have considered the alternatives to saving the shuttle and none of them allow the crew a safe return home. The shuttle is spent. It has no fuel left to put it into a higher parking orbit. It may survive orbiting at this altitude for some future mission to repair and retrieve it, but as you have pointed out with the station, this altitude is in conflict with the debris fields.”

  Susan let out a sigh, “I know what you are saying. I’ve been arguing with myself since before I made the decision. It is the best plan we have…the only plan we have…so let’s do it and get on with this roller coaster ride.”

  “Yes, Commander,” Ivan snapped a salute to Susan. With one more look around they closed off the airlock and moved into the station.

  It had been nearly two and a half hours since they had started to empty out Endeavour. The activity helped to pass the time, so no one really noticed that the call from Korolev Control was late. Susan and Ivan floated into the habitat module, which had become the impromptu meeting hall, and joined the rest of the group. Susan was about to suggest they get something to eat when her eye caught sight of the time readout on the monitor on the wall. “Damn! When is Korolev Control going to get back to us?” Susan asked, as she absentmindedly placed her and Jill’s personal effects in an empty locker on the ceiling.

  Nicholas responded first, “If they are typical, then you have another hour to wait.”

  “Well, we don’t have that kind of time to spare! Ivan, let’s get up to the control center and see if we can get them on the line.” Susan led the way out of the galley with Ivan following her and Nicholas, Alexander, and Paul on their heels. Jerry stayed back, busying himself with a computer monitor, trying to give the impression that he was looking for something interesting to read.

  Susan got to the communication control panel first. As she selected the proper frequency, she instructed Ivan to prepare to move the shuttle away from the station. Susan scanned the readout on the comm panel. Satisfied that all was in order, she grabbed the microphone, “Korolev Control, this is Endeavour Commander Susan Corin. Do you copy?” Everyone looked at the speaker as if the words would magically pour out of it, but all they got was static. Susan unconsciously cleared her throat and spoke more firmly into the microphone, “Korolev Control, this is Endeavour Commander Susan Corin on board the International Space Station. Do you copy?”

  A burst of static popped out of the speaker followed by silence for a few seconds and finally a familiar voice, “This is Korolev Control…This is Christopher Kirovski. Hi.” Susan again felt the heavy weight on her shoulders, and they drooped lower. Taking a deep breath she responded, “Mr. Kirovski, I was under the impression that your commanding officer would have been in forty-five minutes ago. Where is he?”

  “…Ah…he has not arrived yet. He sometimes is late…” Christopher responded in a shaky voice.

  “Just when do you expect he may be in?” Susan asked in a tense voice.

  “…Ah…well…he should be here, anytime…now. He had a party last night…” Christopher volunteered.

  Cutting him off abruptly, Susan snapped, “I don’t care what he did last night! I need to talk to someone in charge now! Is there anyone else I can talk to?”

  “No. I am sorry. It was not me who is late!” Christopher offered in defense.

  “I’m sorry, Christopher. I realize that you are not to blame. We have a very serious situation here, and we need to talk to someone in charge. Please have him contact us immediately upon his arrival.”

  “I will do that…Over.”

  “Right. Over and out!” Frustrated, Susan switched off the microphone with a flick of her hand.

  Ivan looked over his shoulder from his station, “B-team again?”

  Susan glared at him, but before she could respond, the radio spurted static and Christopher’s frantic voice filled the room. “Calling Commander Susan, this is Korolev Control. Come in. Captain Mikhailovich is here! Come in, Commander Susan!” Susan spun around, grabbed the microphone.

  “This is Commander Susan Corin, we copy Korolev Control.” In all his excitement, Christopher left the microphone on so they were treated to a barrage of shouts, clangs and bangs as chairs were being shoved to one side or the other, to clear a path for the captain. This cacophony of sound came to a sudden, dead silence just before they heard the Captain’s voice.

  “International Space Station, this is Captain Mikhailovich of Korolev Control, over.” The deep, rich, heavily accented voice poured out of the speaker like cold molasses. Susan reasoned from the tone, and sound of the voice, that she was dealing with a man who was in his late fifties at best and if so, probably a member of the old guard.

  “Captain Mikhailovich, this is shuttle Endeavour Commander, Susan Corin. I am here on the station with three others from Endeavour and the crew of MIR, Commander Alexander Orlov and Captain Nicholas Zuyev.”

  “Commander Corin, just what are you doing on the station?” Captain Mikhailovich asked with more than just a hint of skepticism in his voice.

  Susan looked over to Ivan and rolled her eyes. “The Endeavour was damaged by the asteroid that hit Earth, we managed to get to the station and while en route we picked up the crew from MIR.”

  While Susan carried on her conversation with Captain Mikhailovich, Jerry took advantage of the moment and headed over to the docking port across from the Habitation module where the CRV was stationed. He carefully studied the control panel on the docking port and was pleased to see that the tunnel, which leads to the CRV, was at the same pressure as the room he was in. This allowed him to open the hatch without having to run the pump to equalize the pressure between the two compartments. It also meant that the CRV, too, was at the same pressure.

  He looked around and held his breath to listen for any sign that someone may have been coming. He could faintly hear Susan still talking to someone on Earth, and by the tone of her voice he gathered that she was very annoyed about something. Feeling confident that he would have at least a few minutes undisturbed, he quietly opened the hatch, floated into the docking tunnel and onto the CRV. As he opened the CRV, the interior lights came on, welcoming him inside.

  Jerry had seen mockups of the CRV when he was training for the mission in Houston and had actually been inside one of them. This was the real thing, with real controls, real seats, not a wooden replica with paper cutouts for the control panels. He was very tempted to just close the hatch and leave now, but he knew that he could not leave without Paul.

  He floated over to the pilot’s seat near the front of the vehicle, settled into the gracefully sculptured, reclined seat and gripped the controls that would steer the parafoil on reentry. Jerry scanned the silent instruments and displays on the ceiling above him. He tried to remember the sequence of commands that he would need to release the CRV from the station and initiate the preprogrammed deorbit procedure.

  As he concentrated, he could see the list in his mind’s eye. He scanned the panel in front of him, and lo
cated the proper switches and displays that he would have to use. Jerry toyed with the idea of bringing the onboard computers online to completely check out the procedure, but decided that it was too risky. Not knowing what alarms or warnings may sound, he might expose himself and ruin everything.

  Susan quickly realized that she was dealing with a person who had no hesitation in using whatever power his supervisors allowed him, whether it was appropriate or not. She also realized that she did not like Captain Mikhailovich.

  “How do I know that you are really who you say you are? How do I know that this is not a hoax?” the Captain asked. The background noise then quieted as the microphone was obviously covered and the Captain’s unintelligible, muffled voice poured out from the speaker.

  Susan was outraged. Turning to Ivan, she asked, “What the hell is it with this clown? If I thought we had the B-Team before we must have the rejects from the C-Team now!”

  “Do not let loose on him, it will only make it worse,” Ivan cautioned.

  “I’d like to wring his neck, if I could get my hands on him!” Susan switched on the microphone, “Captain Mikhailovich! I am the commander of the NASA space shuttle Endeavour and we are on board the International Space Station! Just check your instruments, they should tell you that there is activity on board the station!” If Susan were on Earth she would be pacing back and forth, wearing a rut in the floor. But in space, it was impossible to pace in the conventional sense. One only looked silly with one’s legs moving back and forth and going no place.

  “Ah yes, our instruments do indicate activity on the station. You say that you are with the MIR crew? Let me talk to them.”

  Susan motioned to Alexander and Nicholas to come to the microphone as she backed away. The conversation was conducted in Russian and as far as Susan could tell, the good Captain Mikhailovich was not totally convinced that they were the genuine crew.