“Thank God for that,” Knox replied. “Prepare for Trans-Daedalus injection. I make it twenty-one minutes to the burn. We’ve got an appointment with Earth’s newest moon, and we don’t want to be late because we’ve had trouble opening the lunchbox.”
Chapter 17
A million miles.
A distance almost too incredible to grasp. Further than any human had ever gone before. Knox hung at the observation port, looking out at the increasingly distant Earth behind him, hanging in the distance with the moon behind it. The four crew of Icarus One were the first people to ever have the opportunity to see both of them at the same time, an experience he had never believed he would savor.
“Good morning, Colonel,” Antonova said, emerging from her sleep pod like a butterfly from a chrysalis. “I see you are a light sleeper, also.”
“I don’t want to miss a moment of this,” he replied, a wide, beaming smile on his face. “It just feels too damned good.” Slowly turning in place, he added, “I still can’t quite believe that we are really here, that we’re really doing this. Four days ago we were sunning ourselves in the desert. Now we’re out here, cruising towards Daedalus.” He reached for a tube, hanging close to his head, and asked, “Breakfast?”
“I have already eaten,” she said. Looking at the walls, she added, “This was all put together so quickly. Far too quickly, perhaps. We still have little knowledge of our target. It is as though Neil Armstrong attempted to land on the moon with only a single Ranger probe to provide advanced reconnaissance.” She pulled out a tablet, and said, “We have more analysis of the Zond 4 data now, but it tells us very little. There are no photographs, either, which seems strange. Normally those were highly valued, if only for propaganda purposes. I would have assumed they would have had the highest priority.”
“Experiments fail, transmitters break. We know something went wrong out there.”
“But we do not yet know what, and that worries me.”
Cracking a smile, he replied, “I doubt there’s anything nasty waiting for us on that rock, Major.”
“Perhaps not an entity, no, but there may be some manner of hazard we are not prepared for, that we do not have any way to expect. I have no concrete ideas what it might be, only that it is not something we should dismiss either easily or quickly. The local micrometeorite activity could be worse than expected, perhaps.”
“We’ve had Daedalus under constant observation since you discovered it. And if there were that many micrometeorites, the Blok D would have been battered so badly that we’d never have identified it as an artefact.”
“Maybe. I am still suspicious.” She looked over the tablet, and said, “Retrieving the probe must be among our most important priorities. There are answers there to all of our questions, and much data may still survive.”
“After all this time?”
“Possibly.”
Drifting through from the capsule, Murphy said, “I’m not sure I agree. We’ve got a tight enough schedule as it is, and that asteroid is a mile across. We’ve got twelve scheduled EVAs, and unless we actually spot it on approach, I don’t think we dare spend the time. Have you seen the geological schedule they’ve given us? Not to mention the guidance equipment we’re supposed to install on the surface.”
“The engineering data alone would be worth the investment of time,” Antonova pressed. “Any astronautical scientist would love to get their hands on samples of alloys that have been in space for almost seventy years, and those that have travelled interplanetary space for the bulk of that time would be even more significant. If we hope to reach Mars, then this data will be extremely valuable.”
Nodding, Knox said, “We’ll be conducting a close-range survey of the surface after we land. If we see any sign of the probe, then we’ll check it out, and certainly we’re going to be paying a visit to the Blok D at some point.” Turning to Murphy, he added, “I know it’s only listed in our flight profile as a contingency mission, but if for no other reason than to show some respect for the first explorers of this little worldlet, I think we’ve got to make the trip.”
“You’re the boss,” she replied.
Turning to Antonova, he added, “If we don’t see any sign of the probe, though, Major, then we aren’t going to conduct an extensive search. Murph’s right. We’ve got an extensive schedule to complete, and we’ve only got limited resources. Twelve, perhaps thirteen EVAs in total, if we stretch things a bit. I already ate into some of that contingency when I went out back in orbit.”
“That couldn’t be helped, and you did a hell of a job,” Murphy replied. “If you hadn’t, we’d be back on Earth.”
“True, but it still has to be figured into our calculations, and I wish I didn’t have to do it.” He paused, then said, “I’ll tell Max about this when he wakes up, but the worker who was responsible for loading that bag onto the supply module has disappeared. Took off right around the launch, last seen getting on a plane to Bermuda.”
“Great. Another saboteur.”
“More than likely. He’d worked for NASA for a year, qualified in a university in Quebec, and the FBI’s found a few interesting connections.” Grimacing, Knox said, “It fits the pattern, too damned well. If we hadn’t been able to fix the problem, none of us are hurt. We just go home early.”
Shaking her head, Murphy replied, “What the hell is the CIA doing, anyway?”
“That’s an excellent question, though I have it on good authority that we’re doing as much to them as they are to us,” he said. “I got that from Colonel LeGrand himself, before we left.”
“What?” Murphy said. “You were in contact with…”
“Before ESA decided to go its own path, Felix spent six months training at Houston for a planned tour on Gateway Station. That never came to anything, of course, but I did get to know him pretty well. Well enough that I believe what he told me. There’s someone trying to stop both missions, using a similar modus operandi.”
“We’re playing the same tricks that they are,” Murphy said, nodding. “I suppose that makes a sick sort of sense, though I don’t like the idea very much. Tom, I’ve got to…”
“What if it isn’t them?” Knox asked. “I’ve been suspicious about all of this since Siberia. Everything hangs together so damned well. Too well. There are always layers within layers in intelligence work. It’s damn rare for everything to be tied together in such a nice neat package. That just means someone’s going out of their way to cover up their tracks.”
“Who is?” Maxwell said, pushing out of his sleep pod with a yawn. “How can I get any sleep while you guys are out here yacking away?” Shaking his head, he asked, “What’s for breakfast?”
“Take your pick,” Knox replied. “I take it you’re feeling better, then.”
“Oh, hell, yeah, I guess it just hit me hard this time. Probably just a little too overconfident.” He pushed over to the food locker, reached for a bag, and grimaced, saying, “Hydratable cabbage.”
“I think there’s better stuff if you rummage around a little,” Murphy said with a smile.
Peering deeper inside, he pulled out a sealed tortilla, and said, “I’ll just make myself a sardine and peanut butter sandwich.” At Murphy’s wide-eyed expression, he added, “You’ve got to try new things once in a while.”
“I’ll pass, thanks,” she said, shaking her head. “You realize you’re the prime suspect now.”
“Suspect? What am I supposed to have done?”
“Olfactory sabotage,” the pilot replied.
“Say what?”
Looking around the cabin, Knox said, “Someone is trying to stop us from completing our mission, and I don’t for one moment think that they’ve finished. There are almost certainly other surprises waiting for us, and I’m not even talking about anything we might find on Daedalus, old probe or not. I’ve checked over everything I can think of, but there are a thousand non-lethal problems that could prevent us making it to the surface.”
“Hell, one digit transposed in the course calculations, and we’d end up flying off into deep space forever,” Murphy mused. “Or a dud transistor in the life support systems. Anything.” She grimaced, then said, “Damn it, we’ve got enough problems as it is without adding to them.”
“Wait a minute,” Maxwell said. “Look, there’s got to be more to this than that. Something else we can do to help ourselves, right? Any malfunction would be correctable. We’re past the danger point now. We’ve got one quick mid-course correction coming up, but when we reach Daedalus, it’s essentially more of a docking maneuver than anything else, and we’ve got a good two hours to complete it before we run into trouble. With redundant systems, as well. Besides, most of what I can think of would kill us, and from what you’re saying, they’re doing their best to avoid doing that. Whoever this mysterious group might be.”
“I still think it must be EuroFed,” Murphy added. “Just because it seems obvious doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“Maybe, but I want everyone to take every possible precaution.”
“I thought we already were?” Maxwell asked.
Glaring at him, Antonova replied, “It does no harm to take additional care with our tasks, potentially with sabotage in mind. I am more concerned about the effect on our scientific program. It has occurred to me that there is commercial value in the data we are planning to retrieve, and if a European – or for that matter, a Japanese or Brazilian company – was to obtain the data, they could make much use of it.”
“That’s a fair point,” Knox said, rubbing his forehead. “There I thought it might be a matter of national interests. The idea that it could be a commercial proposition hadn’t occurred to me.”
“Such things were all too common in Russia’s final days, even in our space program,” Antonova replied.
A light winked on the nearest control panel, and Knox pushed over to the communications console, reaching for a headset and sliding it on while he threw on the main screen, the image of General Cooper flickering into life.
“I’m going to assume you are all watching this. It’s being sent scrambled and encrypted as a single data file, buried in some medical data, with an executive designed to automatically trigger as soon as it reaches you. If you have any questions, send them back the same way, and I’ll do my best to answer them, though I’m not at all sure just how much we’re going to be able to tell you.”
The crew gathered around, and Cooper continued, “Hyperion has launched. They left Earth orbit about thirty minutes ago. It took us this long to confirm their flight path, and that they were conclusively heading for Daedalus, rather than the book. What we had thought was a second supply pod turned out to be additional fuel. They lofted the crew two days ago, but we had believed that to be simply in order for them to complete launch preparations and shake down their craft. They’re pushing harder, and they’ve obviously had to improvise in order to catch up, but you can expect them to arrive three days after you get to Daedalus.”
“Three days,” Maxwell said, shaking his head. “We figured we’d have two weeks at least.”
“Now we don’t,” Knox replied, sotto voce. “We’d best make peace with that.”
“You don’t sound especially surprised,” Antonova said, frowning.
With a smile, he said, “Confidentially, I’m not. I half-expected them to pull something like this, though I didn’t have the first idea how.”
“Naturally,” Cooper continued, “we’re trying to establish a dialogue with EuroFed on this, but their people are being somewhat less than cooperative. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have something else up their sleeve as well, so watch yourselves out there. We’re working on your scientific program right now, so that you can at least complete the essential program before you arrive, and if necessary, you have a standby launch window just after Hyperion reaches Daedalus.”
“Three and a half weeks, and even then, we only get to Gateway Station,” Murphy replied, gloomily. “There isn’t even a crew out there at the moment.”
“Just as well. That station can barely support four, never mind eight,” Maxwell said.
Ignorant of their conversation, Cooper said, “We’ll keep you informed of any further changes as they happen. Frankly, this caught us completely by surprise, but everyone down here is still completely behind you, and the mission is still approved under direct Presidential order. If anything, this has just got everyone down here whipped up into a frenzy. A real space race, and the first in history. I don’t need to tell you how important it is that you get there first, plant our flag on Daedalus, and get our claims moving. The lawyers can argue about the details later. I’ll send you another signal in the same manner, this time tomorrow. Until then, have a nice morning. Out.”
“Have a nice morning,” Maxwell repeated, shaking his head.
“This doesn’t actually change anything,” Antonova noted. “Our mission remains unchanged, our ship unaffected. The only difference is that we will have company, shortly after our arrival at Daedalus, and we had always known that the Europeans would make their way there eventually.”
“True, but we’d expected to have a chance to catch our breath once we arrived,” Knox replied. “Now we’re going to have to work like demons as soon as we get there, if we’re going to complete our work. I don’t believe that LeGrand would take any hostile action, but I’m less certain about his crew.” He looked at the clock, then said, “We’ll put together a list of questions for General Cooper to be sent off with the medical reports this afternoon. Until then, we carry out our normal routine. Is that clear?”
“Three days,” Murphy said, shaking her head. “It’s going to be close.”
“Look at it this way, Murph. When we plant our flag, there’ll be an audience. And at least this time, with all these people watching, we’re not going to have anyone claim we faked the landing.”
Chapter 18
“Ten minutes until we make history,” Knox said, looking at the camera pickup. Daedalus was laid out before them, pristine and untouched, a craggy, grey surface that reminded him of a smaller version of the moon, albeit one that had suffered intense geologic turmoil in the recent past. “Launch satellite.”
“Satellite launched,” Maxwell said, tapping a control to release the microsatellite that would, all being well, remain in orbit around Daedalus for years, even if the asteroid continued its journey through the darkness of the Solar System. Immediately, the microsat’s cameras snapped on, showing footage of the surface beneath them, data streaming back to Earth. Its first job was to provide an exterior view of the landing, all television networks carrying their arrival at Daedalus as live as the time delay would permit.
Murphy reached for a control, and said, “I have the primary landing site in view. Looks jagged as hell all around, Tom. There isn’t going to be much margin of error on this.”
“The secondary landing site isn’t any better,” Knox replied. “You’re just going to have to get it right the first time. We’re good on velocity and approach. Prepare anchors.”
“Anchors prepared,” Antonova said, pulling a control. Any attempt to land conventionally on Daedalus would be unlikely to succeed, the gravity field woefully insufficient to the task. The solution they had improvised was a series of harpoons to dig into the rock, stays that would hold Icarus in position during their three weeks on the asteroid, until they were ready to return home. The cables had a range of fifty feet, and they already seemed to be getting close enough to fire them, though Knox knew that was an optical illusion, his eyes playing tricks on him.
“Cameras rolling fine,” Maxwell reported. “We’re getting a lot of stills, as well. I’ve prepared the contingency sample retriever. I just hope we don’t need it. I’m looking forward to getting outside for a bit of fresh air.”
Cracking a smile, Knox replied, “Don’t wait for the order, Max. Trigger it as soon as we land.”
“Doing it,” the scientist said.
“Icarus t
o Vandenburg,” Knox said. “We are ready for landing.” He waited as the signal sped back to Earth, eighteen seconds distant now even at the speed of light. He could picture the scene in Mission Control well enough, the Flight Director going around the room, checking every station, every controller, making sure that all was ready for their landing. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the reply came through, General Baker’s voice echoing through the capsule.
“Icarus One, you are go for descent.”
“Music to my ears, Vandenburg,” Knox said. “Make it good, Murph. The whole world is watching.”
“Gee, no pressure, huh,” the pilot replied. “Call the numbers, Tom.”
“We are at six hundred feet, down at twenty, vertical descent. Right on trajectory. Perfect so far.”
“All flight systems are nominal,” Antonova reported.
Nodding, Murphy gently guided the capsule down, firing a series of steady pulses from the thrusters to match course and speed with the asteroid. This wasn’t a landing. It was a docking. And Murphy was the master of the art, using her instruments and controls with the skill of a virtuoso, gently pulsing from side to side to settle into her landing pattern, the jagged rocks of the asteroid rising all around them as they fell into their target crater.
“Three fifty, down at five. You’re right on. You’ve got it made,” Knox said.
The capsule slowed still further, Murphy tentative, cautious, letting the capsule come down almost by itself, making full use of the miniscule gravitational field of the asteroid. Another quick pulse, this time to speed their descent, rather than arrest it, a series of amber lights winking on to warn that they were close to the surface. On the moon, there would be dust. Here, there was just bare, cold rock, a mixture of grey and brown textures, sharp and jagged.
“One hundred, down at three,” Knox reported.
Rocket Dawn Page 15
