Sea of Crises by Marty Steere

Author:Marty Steere [Steere, Marty]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: space, Apollo 18, NASA, lunar module, command service module, Apollo
ISBN: 9780985401412
Publisher: Penfield Publications
Published: 2012-04-02T05:00:00+00:00

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Spots swam before him, blinking randomly in a vivid multi-colored pastiche. Lights on a Christmas tree, he realized. On the floor, the boys were gleefully tearing into brightly colored wrapping paper, their voices a cacophony of shrieks and exclamations. A warm glow spread through him. He smiled, opening his mouth to speak. But instead of sound came pain. A sharp, intense pain radiating out from his forehead. He felt himself falling backward. The lights were no longer twinkling, but throbbing. And with each throb, came an ache, mild at first, but, with every new pulse, stronger. Soon, the pain was unbearable. Must open your eyes, he heard himself say. Who was he talking to? Himself. And he suddenly knew with an overwhelming certainty that he had to open his eyes.

Cartwright’s eyes flew open.

A few inches in front of him he saw metal, a washed out gray cloaked in semi-darkness. He blinked twice before it occurred to him that what he was looking at was the upper bulkhead of the lunar module. He was lying on his back, suspended in his hammock. The vessel was strangely silent, and it took him a moment to realize that he did not hear the normal whirring sounds of the Environmental Control System. He had the sudden thought that he needed to get into his suit, followed immediately by the comprehension that he was already in his suit. But he was not wearing his helmet, nor was he connected to the personal life support system contained in his backpack.

Instinctively, he called out, “ECS failure,” and he started to reach up for a handhold to pull himself out of the hammock. His arms would not move.

“Take it easy,” he heard another voice say. It sounded strange, almost as if he were hearing it underwater. Gale. And his memory of the events in the Soviet space station came back in a rush.

“Relax,” Gale said. “All systems are nominal.” His face appeared as he rose to stand next to the hammock. “You’re not hearing the usual sounds because our ears have been impaired by the discharge of a weapon in an enclosed space. Hopefully, it’s just temporary.”

Cartwright took quick stock of his situation. His arms were pinned to his side, a rope or some other restraint having been tied around both him and the hammock at his waist. His legs were similarly immobilized. He felt a hot flush.

“Cut me out of here,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now.”

Gale raised a hand in a placating gesture. “I will. I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself when you came to.”

Gale, however, made no effort to undo the bindings. Instead, with his other hand, he held up Cartwright’s Snoopy cap. “Before I do, there’s someone you need to talk to.” He reached forward and slid the cap onto Cartwright’s head. Cartwright had to force himself to bite back the expletive that came to mind.

“Houston,” Gale said, speaking into the stalk on his own cap, “do you copy?”

Through the earpiece, Cartwright could hear Gale’s voice more distinctly.

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