Murphy nodded, sweat building up on her forehead in bright, glistening beads. She shook her head to clear them, her eyes never wavering from the display, her hands locked on the controls. The altimeter crept steadily down, through ninety feet, eighty, seventy. The ghosts of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were large in the cabin, images that Knox had long since consigned to his memories. Of his landing on the moon, a year ago and a million miles away.
“Fifty feet. Fire anchors.”
Four loud reports echoed from the hull, blasts of compressed air hurling the harpoons towards the surface. Three green lights, one red. One of them had failed to dig into the surface, instead recoiling away. A job for later, but for now, they were secure enough. Antonova threw a control, retracting the cables, all eyes in the monitor lights as Icarus was dragged down to the surface, locked down by its stays.
“Ten feet, down at one,” Knox said, as Murphy turned off the thrusters, her hands clear of the controls. There was an anticlimactic bump, and then silence through the cabin as the four of them looked at each other, the enormity of what they had just accomplished taking a few seconds to sink in. Murphy turned to Knox, smiled, then clapped him on the back, the spell broken.
“Wow!” she said. “We did it!”
“I don’t believe it,” Maxwell said, shaking his head. “God damn, we did it! All the way!”
“Way to go, Murph,” Knox said, clasping her proffered hand. “Great job, astounding job!” Tapping a control, he said, “Vandenburg, this is Icarus. We are down, safe and secure.”
“Contingency sample collected,” Maxwell added. “Just in case.”
A half-minute later, the reply came through, “Icarus, we confirm you down and safe, and clear you to stay. Congratulations. I wish I could be up there with you. And to answer your next question, you are go for an immediate EVA. Be careful what you say, though. You’ve got a half-billion people watching you.”
“Oh, this provides tempting possibilities,” Murphy replied with a smirk.
Knox glared at her, and said, “Unless you want to stay here permanently, I’d restrain yourself.” Turning to Antonova, he said, “Kat, I reckon its time for the two of us to go for a walk.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, her eyes gleaming. The two of them drifted back to the rear of the capsule, the gravity of the asteroid barely having any effect on them, and slid smoothly into their suits, assisted by Maxwell and Murphy, the systems already prepared for their egress. On paper, they were meant to wait four hours before going outside the ship, but it had never been seriously expected that they would stick to that, not least because of the crowds of people back on Earth who were expecting a show.
“Max, see if you can get some good footage of the landing site from the microsat, then start the survey as planned on the second orbit,” Knox ordered. “You’d better go through some of the stills, sort some for the newspapers. You know they’re going to ask, so let’s get ahead of the game.”
“Naively, I had the impression that we were here for science,” Maxwell grumbled.
With a shrug, Knox dipped into his helmet, and replied, “No bucks, no Buck Rogers.” The green lights flickered across his display, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. The time lag prevented Mission Control from giving him second-by-second orders, but the knowledge that millions of people were watching his every move was far more terrifying than the landing had been.
Finally, the hatch popped open, and Knox got his first look at the surface, stark and bleak, staggeringly beautiful, the tiny ball of Earth hanging high in the sky overhead, too small to provide any light, just a brief flash of color in an otherwise monochromatic world. He reached for the flag that had been carefully positioned next to his suit, ready for this moment, and checked the barbed, diamond tip at the end, hopefully sufficient to keep the flag in place for all time.
He pushed clear of the ship, letting the asteroid slowly pull him down, tugging back on his safety line to avoid a jagged rock on the surface. After what seemed an eternity but was less than a second, his boots made contact with the surface, and he looked around, letting the moment sink in, exhilaration rushing through him as a wide smile cross his face.
“Vandenburg, this is Knox,” he said. “Damn, this place is beautiful.” Seconds later he heard a round of applause in the distance, and belatedly realized that he’d improvised his first words, words that would be memorized by a generation of bored schoolchildren. Antonova touched down next to him, her eyes rapt with wonder and glee, and he hefted the flag high, unstrapping the banner to let it flow freely, stabbing it into the ground with enough force to send him flying ten feet into the air before the safety line tugged him back.
“Nice,” Murphy said. “Nice and graceful. I see those ballet classes took.” She paused, then said, “Stand by for a message from Olympus, coming through now. I guess the President wants you.” Knox’s mouth widened, and he nodded, turning to face the Earth as the President’s words seeped into his helmet.
“One of my predecessors got to make this call, half a century ago. I cannot tell you what an honor it is to be able to follow in his footsteps, just as you have followed in the footsteps of the great explorers of history. You have undertaken the most significant event of the decade, perhaps the century, and you carry with you the hopes and dreams of all mankind. What is it like out there?”
“It’s hard to put it into words, sir. Not like the moon, smaller, more compact, as though the surface has been torn, ripped asunder and put back together again. Like a frozen tide that will never go out, rocks like waves, reaching for the sky, twisted and scrambled. Everything is grey, except the Earth, hanging in the sky, and now the flag, over to my right. I can just make out some of the small rocks orbiting her, periodically blocking out a star. One of them is transiting Earth now.” He looked around at the horizon, and said, “It’s strange to think that I could walk around this little world in ten minutes. The distances trick you, fool you. It seems to go on forever.”
“It sounds wonderful, Colonel. I only wish I was out there with you, and I suspect that most of the people listening to this broadcast feel the same way. Do you think three weeks will be enough time to explore it?”
“I could happily spend three months, or three years, up here, Mr. President, but we will get the job done.”
“Of that I have no doubt, Colonel. No doubt at all. I’d better let you get back to work, but I look forward to seeing you and your crew in the White House upon your return. Good luck, and good hunting. Olympus out.”
With a smile, Knox looked around, gesturing at the fourth anchor, lying crooked on the surface, and said, “Kat, see if you can dig that into the ground. It’d be best if all four stays were in place. I’ll start collecting samples.”
He turned back to the capsule, taking a sample tool, looking around for some choice rock deposits to remove. Reaching for his chest camera, he set the focus close, then carefully stepped towards his first target location, careful to gather enough shots to allow a 3-d reproduction back on Earth. He spotted a small fragment of granite on the ground, obviously knocked from a larger boulder in the recent past, and reached down with the collector to grab it, preparing a sample bag with his other hand.
“We’ve finished the live broadcast,” Murphy said. “First indications are that we beat the Superbowl.”
“Half-time show wasn’t as good, though,” Knox replied.
“I’ve got someone on the line for you,” she said.
Knox smiled, then said, “I’d bet there are a few thousand people who want an interview right now, but…”
“Patching you through.”
A second later, the familiar voice of LeGrand echoed through his helmet, saying, “Ah, you beat me after all.”
“Sorry, Felix, but the laws of celestial mechanics were on my side this time. Though I’m happy enough to have you along for the ride. I always work better with an audience.”
“If the reports I am hearing from Earth are a
t all correct, you need have no concerns on that score, I venture. Though while you might have made it first, rest assured that we shall do it best, and make good use of the work you are undertaking to prepare for our arrival. I take my coffee black, with one sugar.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that on to the waiter,” Knox replied. “Did you get a full record of our landing?”
“Everything, and our Mission Control is analyzing it as well. It seemed to go as planned, which I find reassuring. Our intended landing site is on the far side of the asteroid, so we shouldn’t get in each other’s way. Our scientific programs should work together relatively well, even if our respective nations are not co-operating this year.”
“I hope you’re right,” Knox said, looking up. “Any problems so far?”
“Nothing yet. All systems are still good, and we are clear for landing in seventy hours.”
“If you need any help on final descent, if you want one of us to talk you in…”
“Thank you. I might take you up on that.” LeGrand paused, and said, “Save some secrets for me.”
“Don’t worry, old friend. I will. Out.” The channel snapped shut, and Knox paused, the sample still in the extended claw, and looked around the horizon. If their plans worked as they hoped, the landscape would be very different in a few years, many of these rocks torn and tumbled as the mass driver they were constructing down on Earth pushed it onto a new trajectory, man-tended machines stripping the asteroid of all its valuable ores, the icy core at the heart of the beast, fuel for a new industrial revolution in Earth orbit. And a sentinel to watch over the United States for a hundred years, an impenetrable observation post in the heavens.
It was a magnificent goal, but somehow, his heart was tinged with regret. There was a cold, wild beauty here, one that would all too soon pass into history, remembered only in the recordings of their landings, movies that would slowly fade to electronic dust in the archives. The battered surface would be smoothed, deep cracks excavated, spoil heaps tossed asunder before the abandoned husk floated in the dark forever, a silent testament, he hoped, to man’s expansion throughout the Solar System.
He hadn’t considered it a heavy price to pay until they arrived, until he saw it for himself. He slid the sample into the pouch, then set the camera to record the landscape, sweeping around to take in a panoramic view, capturing every detail of the surface he could, storing it so that someone else, someday, could savor the same sights as he. Then he looked up at the Earth, a shining orb in the sky, and smiled. The future could wait.
“I’ve got the stay secured,” Antonova said. “I’m not sure it will hold up alone, though. The tip was damaged on impact. Not sure how.” She paused, then added, “I’ve got a clear path to the Blok-D, Colonel, and I request permission to begin my examination of the site, and collect samples for analysis.”
“On the second spacewalk, Major, not the first. We’ve got a lot of work to do on the surface to accomplish our primary mission before we can start working on the extras. First, we’ve got to set up the sounding charges, up on that ridge, in case we have to go home early. I’ll finish here and join you in a few minutes.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry, Kat. You’ll get your chance. My word on that. There are a lot of mysteries here to solve, and by the time we’re through, I want answers to them all.”
Chapter 19
Knox reached into the pouch with his long-handled spoon, coaxing a piece of chocolate pudding free and guiding it to his mouth, while Maxwell fiddled with the camera pickup behind him, playing around with the settings in a bid to restore the image, before finally shaking his head in defeat.
“It’s no good, Tom. The microsat has had it. I don’t know why. Everything was fine one second, and the next every system went dead. We didn’t even get a chance to recover the stored data.” Grimacing, he pushed back to the wall, reaching for a bottle of water, and said, “That was supposed to stay in place for five years. It didn’t even last for five hours. I suppose I could try and intercept it, take a look at it…”
Shaking his head, Knox replied, “No point. Even if you could recover it, and I’m far from sure that you could, I don’t see what we would be able to do to repair it if you did. We don’t have the tools on board for the job.” He paused, then added, “Best guess? Micrometeorite?”
“That’s the obvious explanation, I suppose, but the density just isn’t high enough for that to be a realistic factor. I suppose the word coincidence exists for a reason, but I don’t like the timing.” He sighed, then said, “I hate to sound like a raving paranoiac, but we’ve got to consider the possibility of some sort of sabotage. It would have been easy enough to do. Perhaps not even mechanical, something deep in the guts of the software. I don’t like the idea one damned bit, but given everything that has happened to us so far, I think we’ve got to consider it as possibility.”
“You’re right, Max, I don’t like it.” He paused, then said, “Take another look at the images we managed to retrieve, specifically anything showing orbital space. We don’t have the equipment for a full analysis out here, but we might be able to spot something. Anything. We didn’t have any trouble with the feed until the signal went dark, so you should have a lot to work with.”
“What about launching the reserve?” he asked.
“I’m holding off on that for a while,” Knox said. “Until we have some sort of assurance that whatever happened to the first satellite won’t happen again, we’ll keep it in place. Besides, we’d have to lift from the surface to properly deploy it, and I’m not anxious to go through the landing sequence again. Once was enough. We can always launch it when we leave, three weeks down the road.”
“You want me to take a look at it?”
Shaking his head, Knox said, “I’ll get Antonova to go over it when she gets back from her trip. Speaking of which, we’re getting past time for contact.” Reaching for a headset, he said, “Knox to Antonova. Report status.”
“Antonova replying. We’re closing on our target now, slow and steady. No sign of serious micrometeorite problem, but we’ve got a window to take some samples from one of the small moonlets on our return.”
“That’s a nice bonus prize if you can do it, Major, but don’t put yourself at risk to do it. Have you seen anything interesting about the Blok-D yet?”
“Still in shadow for the moment. We’ll get a clearer image in a moment. I’ll throw my feed down to you.”
“Good idea. We might see something you miss. Be careful. Out.”
Drifting over to his side, Maxwell said, “That’s someone with a mission of her own.”
“Can you blame her, given the circumstances? Say this was a Russian ship and it was an old American probe floating around out there, tell me you wouldn’t be wanting to take a nice long look at it.”
With a shrug that sent him bobbing up and down, he replied, “Didn’t say I disagreed, skipper.” He reached up to the display controls, turning up the brightness to bring the squat, cylindrical rocket into stark relief, the helmet lights at last shining on the old, dull green metal. Knox looked over the lines of the discarded booster stage, his eyes widening as he saw the tangled mess at the rear, a twisted array of battered metal curving inwards, over one of the primary fuel feeds.
Maxwell whistled, then said, “I think we might have a least a part of the answer there. An impact, and a big one. Big enough to wreck it completely. If the probe was counting on that booster stage to return it to Earth, it was going to be pretty damned disappointed. That might explain our microsat, as well. Something that big…”
“I don’t know,” Knox said.
“Come on, Tom, it can’t have been a rupture, or the blast would be outwards, not inwards. Something smashed into that thing, something large, something…”
“Something with a surprisingly close relative velocity, or the Blok-D would have been torn to pieces by the impact,” Knox noted. “Anything that large moving at high speed would have left nothing but debris. And why d
idn’t the force of the strike knock the Blok-D out of orbit, for that matter. You could sneeze yourself past escape velocity, even standing on the surface.”
“True, I hadn’t thought of that,” Maxwell replied. “What about the probe itself, then? Where is it?”
“That’s a damned good question,” Knox said. “It ought to be close, in orbit somewhere…”
“Unless it drifted off. It’s been a long time.” The engineer paused, and added, “We’re both thinking that it’s down on the surface somewhere.”
“You need to take that magic-reading act on the road,” Knox replied.
“We’ve reached the booster,” Antonova reported. “Murphy is taking samples from the hull, I’m going to try and retrieve some of the internal systems with the drill. The release mechanism has been fired, so the probe definitely detached after arrival, and as far as I can tell, it’s in exactly the orbit that was intended by the original designers.”
“Interesting,” Maxwell said. “This just keeps getting stranger, boss.” He looked at the display again, and said, “There are a few tweaks to the design, there, at the front. Boosted communications system, or what’s left of it. Looks like it got wrecked in the same impact.” He paused, turned to Knox, and said, “Do we know what the probe itself was meant to do?”
“Just return to Earth, as far as I know,” Knox said. “The mission data isn’t anything like complete, but the Zond series of probes was designed primarily for photo-reconnaissance, and to trial experimental equipment for potential manned flights.” He paused, then said, “You’re thinking it might have been instructed to head for the surface. Max, it was years before they pulled off a sample return, and with a completely different design…”
Raising a hand, Maxwell replied, “Sure, but what’s to say they didn’t think about at least making the attempt. I can think of a few ways they could have done it, even with the technology they had back then, and they had already perfected automatic docking. Exactly the sort of equipment needed to get down to the surface.”
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