by A J Britnell
EVAC RRT.
Stefan returned to the comms, “If you’ve finished drooling boys, I’d like this cargo moved ASAP.”
The crew moved out to the edge of the bay doors as a string of lights appeared along the rocket’s side, illuminating a sliding section that opened in a theatrical fashion to reveal its mysterious cargo.
Marcus could not contain his excitement, “Whoa, man- it’s like Close Encounters.”
“Let’s just hope no freaking aliens pop out,” Claus added.
While the two men transferred the cargo, Stefan and Haruka had the unenviable task of greeting Healey at the air lock. Haruka hung back while the men shook hands affectionately.
Healey was beaming, “So what do you think of her?”
The captain smiled, “Very subtle.” His sarcasm didn’t go down well so hastily added, “What’s with all the sponsorship?”
“Just good business, you know what they say- space is sexy again- but looking at you guys, I don’t think you got that memo.”
Haruka blushed and tried to fight the weightlessness by smearing her black bobbed hair behind her ears, which sprung back instantly. The action caught Healey’s attention, “And you must be the beautiful Miss O’Brian I’ve heard so much about.”
Haruka looked suspiciously to Stefan who shook his head innocently. Blushing even more, she hesitantly moved forward to shake his hand but Healey simply pulled her into a continental style hug complete with cheek kisses. The lack of gravity exacerbated the situation and they pirouetted in each other’s arms until Stefan reached in to stall their momentum.
Healey continued through the corridor, ahead of the others as if he knew where he was going, describing his latest endeavour, occasionally stopping to pass comment on their ships outmoded fixtures and equipment. By the time they reached the flight deck, Stefan was beginning to regret his decision to meet his old friend; he was quite fond of the Caspian, despite its faults and he hoped this visit was not just an attempt to rub his nose in it.
After unloading several dozen crates, Marcus and Claus, still wearing their suits, rejoined their colleagues for a quick briefing, the new arrivals bobbed giddily in the doorway, eager to impress the exciting newcomer.
After the introductions, Healey got down to business. “Have you told your crew about the business proposal, Stefan?”
“I have, to the best of my ability but I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.”
Healey nodded and rethought his pitch momentarily, “I don’t know if you’re aware but there’s a new space race going on. There are currently seventeen companies and their subsidiaries operating in space at this time- ten of them in the tourism industry. A lot of them are.... well, cowboys and there’s a growing number of accidents which they are ill equipped to deal with,” The entrepreneur looked around at each of them before continuing. “I’ve already mentioned this to your Captain, but I need all of your support. As I said before, I want to expand. I don't want this to be a one-off job, I want you to join me in making the number one rescue team in the galaxy.”
The crew exchanged glances and someone stifled a laugh. Healey ignored the silence and began ferreting around in a duffle bag, producing a silver and orange jumpsuit, complete with sponsorship logos. This one had ‘Captain Stefan Andersen’ embellished along the chest.
“That is so cool, man,” Marcus enthused.
Healey continued, “The only problem is that we’re not alone. That egomaniac, Schaefer’s got a finger in the pie too; my satellites show him building rockets as we speak.”
Haruka thought it rich of him to use the term ‘egomaniac’ but wisely kept her thoughts to herself.
“I’ve been expanding my premises on the Moon; included luxurious living quarters for my new ‘stars’!” He let the words hang in the air.
Stefan lifted the light, cloth jumpsuit and fingered the lettering, “I think maybe it’s time for a change,” he said dreamily, “it would be good to do something worthwhile, save some people, maybe get some thanks once in a while, don’t you think?”
“Not only that, you’ll become heroes!” Healey slapped his friend on the back and smiled ruefully. Ever since they met in the air force, he knew Andersen was someone to be trusted and he always had a way of making Healey look good.
Their Captain’s approval was enough for the Caspian’s crew and they dived in to the bags to find their own ‘hero’ costume.
Chapter Five
The Europa Orbiter was in chaos. Apart from the scientists, the station was host to many VIPs; in the main, extremely rich tourists who were not used to roughing it.
Parts of the station were intentionally zero gravity, some areas required it for experiments but the tourists stayed mainly in the spinning habitation wheel that was now static and the sudden lack of equilibrium was sending the residents slightly crazy. Room 126 for instance was conducting work on hydroponic plants and the lack of gravity was causing the plant’s liquid nutrition to swirl around the room in glistening droplets. Professor Chin had to fight with a wayward creeping vine at the doorway of his lab and used its tendrils like a rope as he dragged his body into the mobile jungle. He ingeniously wrangled the plants together with twine, keeping the different species separate from each other. Their roots required teasing back down into their glass test tubes and after scratching his head a moment, the professor decided to use Cling film to cover the flasks to prevent further leakage. Only when he felt confident did he dare turn the water supply back on, praying that the disaster had not ruined his precious stock.
The dining room was a mess but extremely colourful as unfortunately the gravity failed during lunch service and the three courses were visible everywhere. The room resembled an impressionist painting; globules of green and orange vegetables bobbed alongside the delicious crimson of a cherry tart. Two adventurous children were attempting to balance on furniture, using them as floating stepping- stones to the bountiful spread above.
The restaurant manager made a mental note to secure the furniture to the floor in future when he noticed a small boy trying to sit on a dining chair two meters from the ground. The sight reminded him of a rather disappointing bucking bronco ride. “Get down from there, boy!” he barked.
The child looked about him, bewildered, “Well it would help if I knew which way was down,” he countered rudely.
“And you up there, stop trying to eat the food. It’s been floating around there for days!”
In other parts of the station, the effects were less playful. The ventilation systems, clogged with floating particles, put a strain on the generators.
Technicians were drifting around each section with suction tubes, attending to every crevice. Most pressing problem of all was sanitation. There were only a few toilets available and the queues were lengthy. Three quarters of the passengers remained confined to the top tier, which still had gravity, but due to the sheer volume of desperate people, a steady stream of men women and children waited in a drifting line for the zero G toilets. It was a tricky business and the passengers aboard the shuttle were getting quite good at it.
The passengers aboard the stranded shuttle fared less well. Boredom drained them all. At least on the Orbiter there was room to roam, the small sense of normal life. They could actually sleep in one room and eat in another; change their clothes and comb their hair. The shuttle had become their crowded prison cell, devoid of any luxury, privacy or stimulation. Stale air sickened them, their bodies felt chilled to the bone inside their damp suits caused by sweat and growing condensation, building up as the life support struggled to keep up.
Amongst these passengers was an eight-year-old boy, who became fascinated with a strange object that flitted past the window. EMO, the Caspian's robotic technician began scanning the shuttle for damage, casting a red laser over the hull of the ship and occasionally penetrating the cabin with an eerie glow.
The robot’s body was in flight position with its short back legs extended; revealing thrusters on its he
els and front legs out at right angles, its primitive wrists twisting. The child noticed that the machine appeared to have no face to speak of, only a domed clear panel, beneath which he could make out lights and maybe a camera.
Joining the child at the window, his mother suddenly recoiled at the sight of the strange metallic creature.
“It’s okay mum, it’s friendly,” the boy reassured.
“How can you tell?”
He beamed back at her, “Because it winked at me!”
Fascinated, they watched the robot dart busily around the craft, inspecting every inch of the hull before stopping at the main hatch.
The passengers grew silent as they listened to the curious noises that crept through the metal gage around them. EMO opened a compartment within its body and drew out two magnetic brackets that it attached to either side of the escape hatch.
Once it felt satisfied, EMO patched through to the shuttle pilot and began relaying the procedures for the imminent rescue. The pilot watched the robot on a monitor while he acknowledged the instructions, stopping midway as an astronaut’s boot made contact with the robot’s head and sent him somersaulting into the distance.
Three hundred meters away, Claus and Marcus, wearing full Extra Vehicular Activity Suits, waited in the Caspian's loading bay for further instructions; they were about to receive some secret innovation Healey had provided to aid in the rescue. Bored from waiting, Marcus hovered at a nearby terminal watching the footage from EMO’s cameras; he turned to Claus in disbelief, “Someone just kicked EMO in the head!”
“What?” Claus joined Marcus at the monitor and they replayed the footage.
“What the hell is going on?”
“God knows.”
“It’ll have to wait - they’re ready,” Claus said and beckoned his colleague to follow him through the opening bay doors. Tiny bursts from their booster packs directed them to the black void between the two ships, their tethers snaking behind.
On cue, an astronaut appeared from an opening on the top side of the rocket. They could only see the gold visor of his helmet to begin with but then he twisted in their direction and gracefully ascended, appearing to drag an object from the body of the rocket. A red sphere, approximately four meters in diameter emerged from the ship. The astronaut cautiously guided the object until he stood with arms outstretched, the giant ball resting in the palms of his gloved hands like the Titan, Atlas.
With a sudden flick, the astronaut spun the ball in the direction of the two men who immediately scattered as best they could, only to find the object illuminated and stationary beside them.
“What is it?” Claus inquired on the open link to Healey.
“It’s the cherry picker, or the Portable Airlock Extraction Unit to be precise. I designed it for this very purpose.”
Claus was impressed, “Makes sense, space walks aren’t for novices.”
Healey did not respond for a second, “Hold on Claus, we’ve got a problem back on the shuttle- seems are friend Schaefer’s beaten us to it.”
“That explains the boot then,” Claus remarked to Marcus.
They were all furious, especially the normally calm Stefan. He was analysing the data collected by EMO, which had abruptly stopped only moments ago.
“I can’t contact EMO,” he barked.
Herman pulled himself into the comms seat alongside his Captain and opened fresh channels, “EMO’s on a reboot, something must have been damaged– he’s been off for about five minutes.” He continued to check the data streams for any explanation until a peculiar camera image appeared on a nearby screen. The image was fuzzy but clear enough to show an obvious kick to the head and a passing limb clad in white with the recognisable badge of Schaefer Space Logistics.
An angry row broke out between Healey and John, “Healey I thought you said this was our rescue. What are these clowns doing here?”
Healey waved his arms in a calming motion, “Look guys, it was always a first come first serve operation -they sent a distress call out. They’re not here for the repairs, just the shuttle rescue.”
“Oh, that’s great,” interrupted John, “We do all the hard work and they get the praise for the daring rescue.”
Healey was smiling, “Don’t be too quick give up – I think it won’t go quite as smoothly as they anticipate; they’re going to try and space-walk the passengers out of there and that’s not an easy thing if your inexperienced.”
Stefan interjected, “You’re right, there are children in there. But what were we going to do that was any different?”
“He’s going to use his new potable airlock thing,” John realised.
“My equipment has been especially designed to evacuate anyone from a stricken craft when you can’t get a ship in close enough to dock,” Healey explained. “The orb is extremely nimble and can get into some pretty tight spaces. It has an extendable airlock, so we can get through all that debris and attach it to the shuttle’s airlock hatch. The airlock’s big enough for two people; it’s like a two-man cola can, they don’t even need to wear pressure suits.”
They all nodded in approval and Stefan said, “Why don’t you just tell them we have a better way to extract them?”
“It’s not as simple as that – you have to have a license and I’m in the early days of testing. The Captain said I could use it only in an emergency situation but if Schaefer got here in time he said he wanted to go for a more conventional rescue.”
Healey was totally unfazed by their doubts and settled himself at the control panel, fiddling with screens to get a camera angle on the shuttle. “Don’t worry guys, just sit back and watch the disaster unfold. We’ll just let them mess it up and come in on our red stead and save the day; it’ll make great press,” he chuckled to himself, oblivious to the changing atmosphere.
Haruka had been quiet during their heated debate but she had become increasingly concerned about Healey’s reckless attitude towards these innocent passengers. Motioning for Stefan to come close, she cupped her mouth and whispered into his ear. “What kind of disaster is he waiting for? I hope he isn’t going to risk those poor peoples’ lives just to come out as some kind of hero.”
Stefan rubbed her shoulder affectionately, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the situation. You never know, it might all go smoothly and we won’t even be needed.”
“That will disappoint Healey, I’m sure,” she added through pursed lips. She could not just wait for disaster and so decided to put the time to good use. “Hey Claus, let’s get some practice in with the air-lock.”
Despite the confusion aboard the shuttle, the passengers were anxious to escape their claustrophobic prison, whoever the rescuer. Only the child and his mother seemed to have noticed anything suspicious about the situation and all concentrated on the crews’ instructions. The pilot patiently explained what to expect when the passengers opened the airlock.
Schaefer’s team had brought over two pressure suits, one for the person making the walk and one in preparation for the next turn. Normally it would take at least an hour to fit someone inside these extremely technical and expensive suits- many components would have been custom fit for maneuverability and comfort but in this situation, they would just have to make do.
An astronaut planned to meet the first volunteer in the airlock and connect a line between them. Using the thrusters on the astronaut’s EVA suit the passengers would be towed through the wreckage to the safety of the Space Station’s airlock on the other side of the station, about one hundred meters away. Trepidation filled all eleven passengers as they watched the first person climb into the leggings of the pressure, undergarment. An astrophysicist helped his fellow passenger, a sous chef on leave from the station, into the torso of the suit that would soon insulate the man’s body. Professor Browning was reluctant to take the first turn and offered it instead to the young crewman. The Professor was not a particularly generous man, he was just plain terrified and he bit down hard on his lip to try to focus his min
d on the task at hand. Sweat poured from his brow and stung his eyes, causing him to blink repeatedly.
“Are you okay, Professor Browning?” the man enquired kindly. “You look a bit pale there.”
He stared back at the young man blankly for a second while he struggled to find the appropriate words for such a situation - the last thing he wanted to do was voice his fears and put doubt in the boy’s mind. Without making eye contact Browning said, “Don’t worry about me, David. I’m just a bit weary, that’s all.” He continued dragging the tight, grey material up David’s arms, tugging at the elbows until safely cocooned.
As an astrophysicist, Professor Browning knew everything there was to know about the cosmos. He knew the effects of a vacuum on the human body, the precise temperature of space and that a person could survive it unprotected; seven seconds.
These morbid facts and figures tumbled in his mind, making the shuttle walls collapse in on him. David shook the man back to consciousness; his eyes rolled back into view and he woke up to the reality and the nightmare he was living.
The professor’s funny turn had bumped him up the list; he would be next after David. Even as the young chef neared the hatch, he was still trying to calm the professor, offering unsubstantiated accounts of successful space walks by novices. Browning fought the urge to scream back his objections but soon realised blissful ignorance was probably preferable to the educated terror he was feeling.
Ten minutes later, he found himself in the same position as two people attended to his spacesuit. Floating with arms outstretched, he turned his head to look outside through the small airline style window. Beyond he could see David, hauled away by the astronaut. He was travelling backwards, looking back at the shuttle. The professor tried to raise his hand to wave but someone grabbed it sharply and pulled a padded glove over his fingers.
