Orbital Maneuvers

by R Davison

  Nicholas floated away from the comm station and over to where Ivan was as the exchange grew more vocal between Alexander and Captain Mikhailovich. Alexander exchanged a few more words with the Captain and turned to Susan, “He is all yours Commander. Good luck.” With that he joined Ivan and Nicholas. The three men had a brief, heated exchange, the content of which Susan could only guess at.

  Susan picked up the microphone, “Captain Mikhailovich, do you copy? We are about to jettison the shuttle befor—”

  “Commander?” the Captain interrupted. “Why are you jettisoning the shuttle?”

  “Captain, I thought I explained that. The shuttle is damaged and cannot return to Earth. We want to jettison it before we boost the station into a higher orbit—”

  “WHAT! You can not do that! You do not have permission to do that!” Captain Mikhailovich bellowed.

  Susan bowed her head and took several deep breaths before continuing. “Captain, if we do not boost the station’s orbit, it will collide with the debris cloud and more than likely be destroyed. We will boost the station into a maximum orbit and take the CRV to return to Earth.”

  “You do not have authorization to change the station’s orbit. I know nothing of this “debris cloud” you are talking about—”

  “Do you not know what has happened to the Earth in the last twelve hours?” Susan found herself yelling into the microphone a lot louder than she wanted to. “You are aware of the meteor impacts in the United States, aren’t you?” She asked after making a conscious effort to lower her voice.

  “I have heard something, but nothing official…”

  “I suggest that you check with your superiors and get your facts together!” Susan snapped before she realized what she was saying and how it came out.

  “Regardless of what the facts are, you still are not authorized to change the station’s orbital parameters!”

  “Will you give us permission to change the station’s orbit?” Susan asked with a deep sigh.

  “I do not have the authority to give that permission.” Captain Mikhailovich said with a bit of resignation in his voice.

  “Damn it!” Susan yelled forgetting that she had not switched off the microphone. “Whom do I have to talk to for that permission?”

  “You will need to talk to my superior. He will not be here until tomorrow. He is on vacation.”

  “Is there no one else who we can talk to? We have less than four hours to get this station up. If we wait until tomorrow, it will be too late to move the station!”

  Inside the CRV, Jerry could hear the conversation heating up between Susan and the Captain. He decided that it was a good time to get back into the station. Carefully, he pushed himself out of the seat and floated out of the hatch into the tunnel. Back inside the station, he quietly closed the hatch to the docking tunnel and made certain that he left the controls as he had previously found them. Hearing Susan cursing brought a smile to his face, it was good to know that somebody else did not agree with her and was not afraid to challenge her authority.

  “The more the better,” he muttered to himself. Jerry decided it was best to join the rest of the crew in the control module. This would give him the opportunity to find out what Susan’s intentions were and maybe even talk to Paul.

  Jerry floated into the control module where he found Ivan and the cosmonauts engaged in a hushed conversation in Russian. Paul was in a corner staring at a display panel showing the status of something that, to Jerry, did not look important. Jerry floated past Ivan, the cosmonauts, and a red-faced Susan, coming to a stop by Paul. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Paul turned from the display. “Susan’s got ahold of some dolt in Korolev Control who’s not willing to give her permission to move the station.”

  “Well, that’s good news,” Jerry said, with a smile. “I’m glad that I’m not the only one who feels we shouldn’t move the station.”

  “I’m sorry, Jerry, but you are mistaken if you feel that it is better for the station to stay at this altitude. Here look at this.” Paul turned back to the control panel, manipulated the controls and brought up a graphic of Earth with the orbital track of the station highlighted in red. “Here is the station now, and if I advance the time, the station in about four hours...”

  “So?” Jerry responded in a disinterested tone.

  “The station will be crossing over the southeastern part of the United States. If not on this orbit, then possibly on the next two after it, the station will encounter the rubble thrown up by the asteroid impacts.”

  “So what? If we leave now we don’t have to worry about that. If the station gets trashed, who cares? It’s not like NASA, or Russia for that matter, will be sending people up here in the next ten years or so. The longer we stay up here, the worse it is going to be to get back down.”

  “Yes, that may be true. But we can’t deorbit now unless you want to land in the ocean. And, if we leave the station in the CRV now and hang in orbit for six or seven hours until we are in optimal position to land in the States, we expose ourselves to the debris in orbit and the dust clouds in the lower atmosphere. It’s just not safe to jump into the CRV and head home.”

  “Paul, if we deorbited now someone would be watching for us. The Navy is out there. The rest of the world is not suffering from the impacts. There would be someone available to pick us up. Hell, these Russians Susan is talking to will know where we will be coming down and can arrange a welcoming party.”

  “I don’t think I want to leave my rescue to this guy Susan has on the line now! But you may be right that they’ll know where we would be coming down.” Paul stared off into space thinking about the logistics of their rescue once they were on the surface. Jerry’s eyes brightened as he watched Paul considering his argument. “It’s still too risky to rush out now,” Paul finally answered. “We still are better off taking our time to do it right.”

  Jerry’s hopes faded again. “Come on, Paul! You stay with Susan on this and we are going to be worse off than we are now.” Jerry decided to test the waters. “We can do it ourselves. We don’t need Susan, or the others.” He studied Paul’s face for a sign of rejection or acceptance of the suggestion.

  Paul turned slowly from the computer screen toward Jerry, his tired eyes searching Jerry’s poker face for any useful information. “Just what are you saying, Jerry?” Paul was not quite sure he wanted to believe what thought he had just heard,

  Jerry, in turn, read nothing in Paul’s face, but Paul’s quiet voice spoke volumes. He hesitated. “I’m just saying that we, together, can convince Susan to change her mind. That’s all.” Jerry could feel his face flush. That may have been a mistake, he thought to himself with his mind racing for another excuse in case Paul did not accept this one. He breathed a silent sigh of relief with Paul’s response, “Susan has her reasons for this action and I don’t think you, or I, will change her mind.” Jerry pulled back from Paul a bit and, in a hushed voice, said, “Well, you can’t blame someone for trying. I—”

  “Stupid bastard!”

  Jerry, and everyone else in the room, was startled by Susan’s voice rising to a crescendo. Slamming the microphone down, she pushed away from the console and turned to the rest of the group.

  “The good Captain Mikhailovich will not give us permission to change the station’s orbit! It also appears that his boss is on vacation, and he is unwilling to search for anyone else who may have the authority to give us permission.”

  Ivan looked at Susan. “So, Commander, what are we going to do?” he asked.

  “We are going to move the station anyway. To hell with permission! Ivan, are you ready to jettison Endeavour?”

  “Yes. Everything is set and ready to go.”

  “Then do it now, and once we are clear, let’s move this station!”

  “Yes, Commander.” Ivan turned back to the console and after a series of command inputs on the key panel, his screen switched to a view of the shuttle docked to the station displayed by a c
amera on the remote manipulator arm. Ivan carefully positioned himself so he could place his feet into the foot restraints that were on the floor beneath the console and fasten a safety harness around his waist. This was necessary to give him a solid anchor from which to manipulate the manual controls that would remotely control the shuttle.

  Susan was drawn to the shuttle’s image on the display. This was the first time she had seen the entire ship. She studied the vivid black scar over the flight deck where the asteroid first touched the shuttle. The tiles were neatly parted, looking as if someone had dragged a dull knife through icing on a cake.

  Susan flashed back to the payload bay, as she cowered in the corner watching the asteroid pass over and as the piece of tile scored her visor. She felt herself physically flinch with that image as she snapped out of the flashback. She quickly looked around hoping that no one had noticed.

  Her eyes followed the path of destruction on the shuttle as it progressed down the length of the ship. The glint of shiny metal in the bright sunlight caught her eye. The twisted and torn remains of the anchor point to the shuttle remote manipulator arm stood as stark testimony to the forces that came to play in that instant of space and time. Susan tried to fight off the image of Jill standing on the end of the arm at that moment.

  As everyone watched the monitor, the shuttle detached itself from the station and moved away from the docking port. Those in contact with a wall or other surface in the module felt a slight jolt with the separation. Susan felt the jolt as her mind replayed the image of Jill being stolen by the asteroid. Her attention now refocused on the image of the shuttle, which was very slowly moving away from the station.

  Looking at Endeavour from a more panoramic view, the damaged rudder and wing panels became evident, as did the deformed payload bay door. The shattered window on the flight deck gave the ship the appearance that it was winking back at the people on the station. As Susan watched, she noticed a quick burst of gas from the steering thrusters and saw the shuttle obediently move down and away from the station. She looked from the display to the console below and watched Ivan as he entered a series of commands on the keyboard to remotely fly the shuttle.

  As she looked back to the display, she watched Endeavour quickly shrink in size as the distance between it and the station rapidly increased. Susan finally broke the silence in the room with a whispered farewell. “So long Endeavour. You served us well.”

  After a few moments, Ivan added, “May you last until we can come and get you.”

  They continued to watch in silence until the craft was no more than a bright dot, blending in with thousands of stars showing on the display. Susan floated over to Ivan’s station and looked at the display and control panels while Ivan reconfigured his console to monitor and control the station’s propulsion and guidance systems. Ivan looked up at Susan and noticed her clenched fists, a sure sign that she was doing something that she was not comfortable with.

  Working together as closely as they had been for the last several years, Ivan picked up on the subtle actions and body language that Susan exhibited and felt he could read her fairly well now. He knew that it took a lot for her to disobey the orders from Korolev, even if she did not agree with them. If she ever flew again, or had a command position, she would be the better for it after her trial by fire on this mission. He would enjoy working with her again.

  “Okay, Ivan, let’s get this show on the road! What do we have to do before we light the engines?”

  Before Ivan could respond, Jerry pushed forward. “Susan, do you really want to disobey a direct order from Mission Control?” He paused to give her a chance to answer before continuing.

  “No, I don’t want to disobey the order. What’s your point, Jerry?”

  “Well, you are placing yourself in a very bad situation. If something were to happen to the station because of your actions, you would be the one responsible. I mean, this is a forty billion dollar, multinational piece of equipment, and here you are calling the shots on where it goes. If you’re right, and you make the correct call, then you’re a hero, but if you don’t…”

  “Jerry, if you are so concerned with my well-being, then do what you can to help us move this station. I will worry about the repercussions of my actions when we get back home, thank you very much.”

  “But moving the station is going to make it more difficult for our reentry.”

  Ivan moaned, “Jerry, will you get off—”

  Susan cut Ivan off. “Jerry, don’t waste your breath and our time! I have made the decision, and we are moving this station. That is the end of the discussion! Now, if you want to help, I am sure that there is something you can do, and if you don’t, then stay out of the way!”

  Susan turned her back on Jerry and began to study the display above Ivan’s console for something to focus on before she totally lost her control. Her fists were clenched, and her knuckles white. She tried to steady her breathing and ignore Jerry. She did not want to give him either the satisfaction of knowing how upset he got her, or any opportunity to continue this conversation.

  Jerry silently watched Susan’s back while everyone else watched him. After a moment or two, he turned to Paul and said with a smirk and shrug of his shoulders, “I tried.” Without another word, he left the compartment.

  XV

  “What’s our current altitude, Ivan?” Susan asked, as she scanned the cluttered display for that particular piece of information.

  “Here,” Ivan pointed out a number on the display that indicated the altitude in miles and kilometers. “We are currently at two hundred and five miles.”

  “With our current fuel load on the station, what is the maximum altitude that we can achieve?”

  “Just a moment, I will have a number for you.”

  “Paul, can you pull up the checklist for the manual reboost procedure?”

  The voices faded as Jerry floated away from the control module and headed toward the far end of the station. As he passed through Node 3, passing the Habitation module and CRV docking port, he mulled over the best way to make his and Paul’s exit from the station. His mind was in high gear, turning over different scenarios and weighing the probabilities of success for each of them. He noticed neither his entry into, nor departure from the Destiny lab module.

  He finally came to an abrupt stop in Node 2, which provided access to the European lab, Columbus Orbital Facility, Multi-Purpose Logistics module, Centrifuge Accommodation module and JEM, the Japanese module also known as Kibo. He blankly stared at the four new choices to explore and, making no conscious choice, he entered Kibo.

  The inside of the module was similar to the rest of the station, with the wall racks for experiments and equipment. Yet, the module had a definite air about it that set it apart from the rest of the station. To Jerry, it seemed to quietly whisper a hint of the orient. He could not put his finger on it, there wasn’t anything obvious, but he liked what he saw and sensed.

  Memories of two semesters spent in Japan flowed through his mind. His days consisted of working on his research with a world-renowned specialist, learning the language and, most importantly, soaking up the exotic culture of the Orient. He felt a sudden longing for those carefree days.

  Among the muted colors and sounds in the room, Jerry spotted a splash of reddish-orange at the far end of the compartment. He made his way cautiously toward it. Jerry tried to push the thoughts of Japan out of his mind and return to the analysis of his last plan to leave the station, but the musical splash of color was too much of a distraction. As he moved closer to the bright colors he began to see splotches of green among the red and orange.

  It was either that his mind was too clouded with other things, or that the sight of a bush full of bright reddish-orange cherry tomatoes was so out of place in orbit that it took him a full minute to realize what he was looking at. Inside one of the wall racks was a hydroponics experiment where someone was growing a small cherry tomato bush, which was in full bloom! Its roots were a
bundled mass in a compartment below the plant that contained a watery liquid, not quite clear but with a milky green appearance. The bush looked like a picture drawn by a young child; the fruit scattered all about with no sense of up or down. Without the pull of gravity on the plant, the tomatoes did not hang, as one would expect, but pointed in all different directions.

  Jerry marveled at his discovery and looked over the plant, carefully counting the perfectly round, red fruit on the branches. The temptation to taste one became overwhelming. He had to have one. Carefully, he inspected the rack to see how to get to the inside and if there were a warning or caution not to eat the fruit. Seeing nothing of the kind, he gingerly released the latches on the doors to the rack and opened it.

  The smell of spicy, warm air wafted out of the compartment and Jerry breathed it in deeply. He experienced another flashback, tending his father’s backyard garden on a hot and muggy August afternoon. He enjoyed the smell of the tomato plants combined with the smell of the damp earth as he picked the ripe, red tomatoes, leaving the greener fruit for another day.

  Snapping back to present time, Jerry plucked one of the biggest tomatoes he could find and watched the bush dance in response to the stolen fruit. Soon the leaves and fruit settled down, back to their original positions. Satisfied that the plant was quiet, Jerry now examined his treasure.

  It appeared almost perfectly round with a shiny, flawless, skin. He carefully smelled the tomato and was pleasantly greeted with the expected aroma. Without a second thought, he popped his prize into his mouth, bit down and enjoyed the sensation of the sweet juice squirting the inside of his mouth. Delectable, delicious! The little red globes had the perfect blend of sweetness and tartness, a taste he hadn’t experience in years. He plucked a handful of tomatoes from the bush and let them float free in front of him. After admiring the constellation of red orbs for a moment, Jerry glided around his floating feast, and carefully ate them, one by one. He hovered in the center of the compartment with his eyes closed as he enjoyed the last bit of the sweet, tangy fruit.