“Perhaps not,” she replied. “It’s a lot to absorb.”
Pulling out his tablet, Knox said, “We’ve had some more information about our competition, by the way. They announced the crew of Hyperion Two this morning, and it’s official, they’re heading for the asteroid. The mission commander is Colonel Felix LeGrand. That’s good news and bad news.”
“What do you mean by that?” Antonova asked.
“Well, I know the guy. He’s reasonable, so he’s not going to do anything stupid if we end up getting to the asteroid at the same time, but he’s also the best man they’ve got. Three tours on the European Space Station, and he damn near built the thing by himself. Competent, but not arrogant. They’ve made an excellent choice. I was rather hoping that it would be more political than that. Six-man crew, spread among the EuroFed nations, with one Ukrainian geologist along for the ride.”
“That’s interesting, given what we know about the first visit to the asteroid,” Baker said, while Antonova’s face reddened, the engineer looking away from the others.
“I was thinking the same thing, but that particular story has yet to leak out. State seems to think that they’re just trying to earn a few political points. Ukraine’s scheduled to join EuroFed in three years anyway, but there’s some public discontent about the idea building at the moment, and there’s an election coming up.” He grimaced, then added, “There’s always an election coming up.”
“Six people,” Antonova replied. “A larger, more capable ship.”
“Designed for no less than five flights to the moon. The Hyperion itself is already in orbit, but they need to send up the fuel module, the supplies, the crew. I suspect they will dispense with the lander. They won’t require it for operations on the asteroid.” Knox frowned, then said, “Last I heard, they were planning their mission for six months. They’re pushing, but not as hard as they might be.”
“With NASA claiming that they’ll be lucky to make it by the middle of next year, I’m more surprised that they’re advancing their timetable at all,” Baker said, a smile on his face. “That bastard Bishop’s the best cover story we could possibly want. He’s still trying to get someone to pull the plug. I had a call from the Vice-President this morning, something about budget overruns.”
“What did you tell him?”
“To send me the bill for any over charge. Hell, I’m going to make a not-so-small fortune out of the mining rights alone. Even if we can’t alter the damn thing’s course, we can throw a few hundred tons of ore into Earth Orbit, build a couple of space stations just out of that. If we can keep it here, then we’ll be extracting iron, nickel, a dozen other metals and elements out of it for the better part of a century. That’s a hell of a return on our investment.”
Antonova scowled, and replied, “Then all of this is just about money?”
“Hell no. If I wanted to make money, I’d have stayed in the insurance business. Want to know how you make a small fortune in aerospace? Start with a large one.” He looked at Knox, and said, “I never got to fly in space myself. Not while I was in the service, anyway. Just a few suborbital tourist hops since. You know I applied to NASA twelve times? Twelve? By the end I figured they’d select me just to shut me up, but even that never worked. Too many applicants, not enough spots, especially once Shuttle stopped flying. I still got to play with rockets, but the closest I ever got to the dream watching them fly. Watching other people ride into space.” The old man sighed, suddenly looking every one of his seventy-five years, and said, “If I can make the dream come true for someone else, then it’s worth it. Never mind the national security crap. That’s just a way to make Uncle Sam pay the bill. We’re going to the planets. To the stars. And it all begins right here. Assuming you make it there and back in one piece.”
Placing his hand gently on the old man’s shoulder, Knox said, “Don’t worry, Curt. We’ll get there. And back. Don’t ask me how, but we’ll make this dream of yours come true. You can count on it.” He paused, smiled, then added, “Besides, I still want to see the look on Beck’s face when we beat him to the punch.”
“You really don’t like that guy, do you,” Antonova said.
“Have you ever met Colonel Beck?” Baker asked.
“No, I haven’t.”
“You’d know what we were talking about if you had.” He shook his head, then led them back out, through the hanger, out onto the desert, where the tall, two-hundred-foot tower rose into the sky, dominating the landscape, visible for miles around. Soon enough, their rocket would be stacked on the launch pad, tankers topping it up with fuel, the elevator taking them all the way to the top. Soon enough, they’d be on their way.
“It doesn’t seem real,” Knox said.
“It will, the moment Mission Control calls ‘ignition’,” Baker said. “In a little under three months from now.”
Chapter 10
Knox climbed down the ladder, condensation soaking his hands as he descended to the bottom, looking up at the cold metal wall, knowing that there was a million gallons of water on the other side. This was one of the largest pools in the world, exclusively designed for EVA training. Astronauts had been training underwater since the days of the first spacewalks, and while it was always difficult, it was usually fun, as well. He looked at the others, the rest of his crew preceding him to the bottom, and smiled.
“You think you’ve got it bad. Back in the old days, we’d have to be lowered into the pool. Now we’ve just got to climb in and we’re on our way.” He made his way to the nearest suit, his name stenciled above the hatch, and pulled it open, an odor of old sweat assaulting his nostrils as he prepared to climb inside, the others following his lead. Behind him, a quartet of technicians nervously checked their equipment, making a series of last-minute adjustments to the systems and controls. Finally, they nodded at Knox, and he climbed inside, feet first, sliding into the leg- and arm-holes, his head popping neatly into the helmet.
He always felt claustrophobic for the first couple of minutes he was wearing a spacesuit, and this was no exception. The tip of his nose itched, and it took all his self-control to refrain from scratching it, muttering a quick curse under his breath as the systems booted up, the heads-up display bursting into life. He’d been one of the last astronauts to train on the old, vintage suits that NASA had used during Shuttle and Station; when they’d finally spent the money on an upgrade, the difference had been astonishing.
Experimentally, he moved his arms and legs, floating in the pool, and looked out across the vast expanse of water beyond. Later in the training, they’d have simulations and mockups of the terrain they’d be working in when they were out on the asteroid. Today, there was only a series of handhold bars to navigate, simple experiments to complete. All of them had used spacesuits of this type before, so they were hardly starting from scratch, but skills not used had a habit of deteriorating, and there were no second chances once they were out in the dark.
“Knox to Training Director. All green.”
“Roger, I read the same from here,” the voice of Captain Castillo, the supervisor in charge of their abbreviated training program, replied. “You’re clear to proceed. Keep it nice and slow, and spend at least ten minutes getting the feel of the suit before you attempt to do anything. You’ve got twenty scheduled dives over the next ten weeks. You’ll have plenty of time for the complicated maneuvers later on.”
“Understood, Captain, will do,” Knox said, kicking free of the wall, floating gently for a few feet before beginning his slow drift to the bottom. He twisted and turned, cautiously maneuvering around, and looked up at the safety line, reaching up to give it a tug, checking that it was secure. Satisfied that he was safe, he oriented himself, working out where all the equipment was, how he intended to proceed once he began his work in earnest.
“Maxwell to Knox. I’m free, right on your tail,” the engineer replied. “Brings back a lot of old memories.”
“Yeah, it sure does,” Knox said with a smile. H
e reached the floor, bounding cautiously towards the frame, glancing at the controls of his suit to ensure everything was working well. A solitary amber light was flashing, a defect in his communications, and he reached up to tug the safety cord again, the light returning to green. “Knox to Director. I’ve got a little problem with my cable. Might be a slightly loose connector. I’ve got it working for the moment.”
“Nothing on my board here,” Castillo replied. “If you lose contact again, head back for the hatch. It might just be a transient error. We’ll have a maintenance diver check it out as soon as the exercise is complete, but I’d hate to call this off because of what might be a one-off malfunction.”
“I concur, but keep an eye on those monitors. Anyone else having any problems?”
“Negative,” Max well replied. “Everything looks fine here, and a visual check shows nothing you need to worry about. I’m happy to continue as we are.”
“So am I, but if anyone has any other problems, no matter how minor, we call this off,” Knox said.
“Agreed,” Castillo replied. “I’ve got a rescue diver sitting up here ready to go, just in case. Out.”
Knox looked at his safety line again, frowning as he continued towards the framework, struggling in the suit. Under normal circumstances, any defect would result in the exercise being postponed, or at least in his withdrawal from the pool at once. Just one more way they were having to cut corners in a bid to be ready in time, to beat EuroFed to the still nameless asteroid, now in distant orbit around Earth.
Taking a deep breath, he reached out for the first bar, grabbing onto the handhold and bringing himself to a stop. The first task was to unscrew a large nut, and he set to it with a will, reaching for one of the grips at his belt and clipping it to the nut, his clumsy gloves struggling to maintain enough pressure to turn it. Finally, it came free, and he shook his head in frustration. Somehow, this seemed harder than he remembered.
Now he had to attach the nut again, ready for someone else to use. A simple enough practice, and something he’d done a thousand times working on the construction of Gateway Station, but he was struggling with the tools, struggling to get them to respond as they should. He paused for a moment, flexing his arms again, and eventually, with much sweat and effort, managed to reattach the nut.
“Having trouble, boss?” Murphy asked, a faint chuckle in her voice. “I figured you could do this in your sleep.”
“Who says I’m not,” he replied. “I’m just giving you a bit of a headstart. That’s all.”
“Talk’s cheap,” she said. “Last one to finish their checklist buys the beer tonight.”
“I’m up for that,” Maxwell added.
“Let’s just get this finished first,” Knox replied. “And I don’t want anyone making a mistake to win a bet. There’s too much riding on this. Keep your focus, people. And I’ll buy the first round tonight.” He turned back to the frame, moving across to a simulated micrometeorite experiment. This time he had to remove a plate, take out a container, then replace both. Once again, he had trouble, trying to work the stiff components, the lever refusing to work as it should, slipping in and out of the socket.
Taking a deep breath, he tried again, still struggling with the tools. This should have been easy. Just a quick exercise to get him used to working in a spacesuit again. He looked around at the others, all of them more nimble than he, easily moving around the pool. He wasn’t that out of condition. Something else was wrong. His atmospheric mix was fine, but as he reached out with his foot to the extremity of the boot, he felt wet. Water.
His first thought was a problem with his drinking tube, but a second’s glance showed that the tank was full. That meant there was a leak in his suit, and worse, one that for some reason had failed to register with any of the warning systems.
“Knox to Castillo. I’m declaring an emergency. I have a suit leak and am returning to the hatch.” He paused, waited a second for a reply, and repeated, “I am declaring an emergency. I have a suit leak, and am returning to the hatch.” He looked at the monitor panel, the communications light flashing green, then reached up for the safety line again, giving it a sharp tug.
It came away in his hand this time, then curled out of reach.
He turned for the hatch, started back, but the weight in his leg was beginning to throw him off balance, and he felt a second leak in his other boot, water now rushing in. Thinking quickly, he turned up his pressure, enough to hold the water back for a time, but he’d be expending oxygen at a furious rate. That would help for a moment, keep him from drowning, but wouldn’t save his life for long.
Looking up, he tried to spot the safety diver, but even if he dropped at once, there wouldn’t be much he could do, not in the limited time left. Reaching the hatch was out of the question, which left only one alternative. He’d have to abandon his suit and swim for the surface, a hundred feet up. There was no time to waste, and he reached for the emergency release on his back, struggling with the mechanism. Struggling and failing. It had been jammed. Either someone on the maintenance team was incompetent beyond all belief, or someone was deliberately trying to kill him, and had done a pretty comprehensive job.
The water was still flowing in, despite his efforts, now rising to his ankles. He slid back to the floor, trying to trudge towards the escape hatch, a trail of bubbles racing to the surface behind him. Finally, another suited figure dived towards him, Murphy, as far as he could tell, reaching to his emergency release and finally forcing it free. The back plate of his spacesuit detached, and just as he had been trained, he pushed himself out, leaving the dead weight of his suit behind him as he began to ascend, slowly exhaling as he rose.
At last, he saw the rescue diver, moving into position to help him to the surface, and he felt reassuring arms around him, tugging him free, until at last he reached the top, breaking out of the water and taking a big gulp of air. The diver helped him to the side of the pool, a paramedic sprinting towards him as a red-faced Castillo looked down at the bottom of the pool, then back to Knox.
“Call off the training session. Do it now,” Knox said, his voice cold.
“But…”
“Do it, damn it!” he urged. “Before someone else runs into trouble.” He sat down by the side of the pool, looking down into the water, and took off his nose clip and earbuds, carefully placing them in a pocket, while the medic gave him a quick examination. “I want a full investigation of what happened to my suit.”
“We’re getting it retrieved now,” Castillo replied. “If there’s something wrong, we’ll find it, sir.”
“You’d better, Captain. The next time this happens, we could lose someone.” Murphy raced out of the elevator, panting from her sprint, and Knox looked up with a smile, saying, “Thanks for the assist.”
“Any time, but I hope we don’t have to do that again. The others are already on their way back. I hustled. Are you OK?” Turning to the medic, she asked, “Anything wrong with him?”
Shaking his head, the young man replied, “Nothing serious, but he’s not getting back into the pool today. I’m not going to be crazy enough to tell you to take the afternoon off, but stick to planning sessions and briefing lectures, Colonel, and try and get an early night.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Knox said with a smile. “And thanks.” He looked around for the diver, spotting him heading back down into the pool, cable in hand, ready to retrieve the damaged spacesuit. He looked across at the status monitor, smiling as he saw the sea of green lights from his suit.
“I think you’d better take a look at that,” Knox said, gesturing to Castillo. “Could this possibly be a systems malfunction?”
“I can’t see how. It would take far too many things to go wrong at the same time for that to be the case. I might buy a suit leak, perhaps, or the communications problem. This is the first time we’ve tried anything this extensive. There are bound to be some teething troubles…”
“Teething troubles?” Murphy
said, her hands balling into fists. “Tom damn near drowned down there.”
“Peace, Murph,” Knox replied, raising a hand. “I’m fine.” Looking at Castillo, he added, “That means there’s only one explanation. At least, only one that makes any sense. We’ve got a saboteur out here, on the base. Someone’s managed to infiltrate the spaceport, someone with enough influence and training to pull off something like this.” He looked at Murphy, and said, “I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. If either of you can think of an alternative…”
“I can’t,” she replied, shaking her head. “I can’t think of anything else.”
“Christ,” Castillo said. “Colonel, the training program is tight, I’ve got people working double shifts already, but if we’re going to have to start introducing more security checks…”
“Then we’re just going to have to do that, Captain. There isn’t any other choice.”
Chapter 11
It was quiet out beyond the perimeter wall, only the occasional cry of the coyote to disturb the night. He could turn away to face the desert and almost not know that he was close to one of the largest spaceports in the world. Rubbing his forehead, he looked out at the endless wastelands beyond, marveling at the desolate expanse, knowing that in a couple of months it would be the focus of almost everyone on Earth, as they travelled towards their distant destination. Somehow, the name Daedalus had stuck, and he detected the hand of General Cooper in that, a means to disguise the more secret aspects of their mission. The astronomers were still arguing about the official name, but the latest interviews suggested that they were arguing more for the sake of an entertaining debate than with any actual thought of contesting it.
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