Pluto's Ghost- Encounter Edition by B C Chase

Author:B C Chase [Chase, B C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781977718365
Publisher: :preseption: press
Published: 2018-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

Shelby is already inside the cupola operating the Canadarm (the main control workstation for it is in there). She looks as distraught as I feel. I ask, ‘“Do you mind if I watch?”

“Of course not, Jim.” She wipes her eyes with a white cloth, sniffling. She has been affected by the goodbye as much as I have. Since she knows more than anyone about their chances medically, this isn’t a good omen.

Commander Tomlinson’s voice is over the speaker, “Brakes go off.”

“Confirmed,” she says. “Brakes off.”

Commander Tomlinson says, “Enter mode manual verified blue.”

“Copy that. Verified blue.”

“Joint lock, shoulder roll.”

“Verified.”

“Now you can begin, Shelby.”

“Confirmed.”

Outside the windows towards the forward section of the station I can see Jupiter. We are about 1,300,000 kilometers away, and the planet is the size of a ping pong ball held at arm’s length. Within four hours, we will be making our closest approach and that is when the radiation will be the most intense and the danger the highest. It is also when our engines will burn and we will need to be aligned properly. If Commander Sykes and Katia are not finished by then, the International Space Station will be propelled away from the Solar System with no possibility of return.

Visible on the bottom of the airlock module to the starboard side is the hatch through which Commander Sykes is emerging.

“NASA sent that patch through a long time ago. I just hope it works,” Shelby says, concentrating very hard as she uses the controls to maneuver the arm. It is an excruciatingly slow process as the long arm segments stretch out towards the airlock.

I ask, “Tim tested it didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Shelby replies.

“And it checked out?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” I smile, “so all you have to worry about is that you don’t screw up on those controls.”

She grins, “You’re so reassuring, Jim.”

Over the radio, Commander Sykes says, “Just a reminder that the faster we do this, the better. It’s supposed to take six-and-a-half hours to replace one CMG. We have four hours to replace two of them.”

Shelby asks, “How are you guys feeling?”

“Fine,” replies Commander Sykes, his voice masked by static.

“Okay, good. I don’t want to bring this up, but you should be aware that you won’t start feeling sick from the radiation until two hours into the EVA.”

“Copy that, Shelby,” says Commander Sykes. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Eric,” says Commander Tomlinson, “you’ll need to take the foot restraint that’s stored on the airlock and attach it to the arm as soon as Shelby has it in place.”

“Copy that,” Commander Sykes replies.

Commander Tomlinson continues, “To do that, you’ll need to take your tool bag and—”

Commander Sykes interrupts, “I know which tools to use, thanks.”

“It’s best if you listen to procedure, Eric.”

“I’ve done this before, Joshua. I’ll let you know if I need any tips.”

I can’t help but grin as I listen to this exchange.

Commander Tomlinson shifts his attention to what whom he must perceive as an easier target for his administrations, “Katia?”

“Yes.”

“As soon as you’re out of the airlock, I’ll need you to translate up to the Z1 truss.

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