T-minus zero day. In the SPF ready room, we drew straws to see who would take left seat to the space station. I made sure I did not get the short straw so that someone else would have the honor. Doc won. A fitting tribute.
There were few people on the tarmac as we walked to the spacecraft. A misty morning with a big red ball rising. Most of the Genesis team was there, including Julia Zeller. The ground support guys stayed back out of the way, their launch preps complete. Everything that needed to be said had been. We quietly boarded and strapped in. Shelly took the right seat. Wilson and RJ at the engineering stations. Danica and I in the back with Erin and Paris behind us.
Doc gave us a very smooth ride up and parked in an orbit where we could chase down the station fairly quickly. Docking maneuvers require all personnel to be strapped in, so we remained in our seats. Personally, I enjoyed the ride up, but as soon as we hit zero-G Paris looked sick again.
We caught up to the Wheel and with permission from Station Approach Control, mated to a docking port in the center hub, so gently that you could barely feel contact. Danica and I applauded. There was a mad rush to unbuckle and look out windows. When the pressure had equalized enough to open up, everyone except the two pilots coasted into the station receiving area to sign in and explore the sections open to them. Passive artificial gravity was available just beyond the spoke tunnels. Doc and Shelly remained behind, taking their time with the shutdown procedures. Technicians from the station were already waiting outside the airlock so they could enter and begin the final checks on Griffin’s Nav system. The numbers had added up perfectly on our run to the brown dwarf, but the trip we were about to attempt required calibration standards beyond imagination.
Long ago my heart had been affianced in a serious relationship with a woman who held a pending lease on one of the station’s laboratories, an orbiting parcel quite valuable. It was located in the nine-zero sector on the second level. When the PHD occupying the lab was suddenly charged with ethics violations, my heart’s desire found her lease unexpectedly activated. She immediately rid herself of me in a less than congenial way.
I wondered if she was still there. I did a quick soul search and decided not to go find out. As I pulled myself along the station’s padded spoke tube, public service posters marked the way. ‘In case of sudden depressurization, report immediately to the nearest designated security area’. ‘Always know where the nearest designated security area is located’. ‘Visitors must remain within public access areas.’ Several other signs reminded us of materials not allowed on station. The last one was the best. It was scrawled in large letters on poster paper and taped to the wall; ‘To stop station rotation, run in the opposite direction’.
Gravity began to have influence, coercing me to hold to the mini ladders along the wall. Soon it became an all out climb down. A pressure hatch to the outer wheel opened automatically as I descended toward it. I stepped down into the luxurious carpeted public area where a restaurant, bookstore, and coffee shop mall made me feel as though I had somehow ended up in an airport mezzanine. I spotted Wilson in the coffee shop buying two mugs. He saw me and waved.
This would be our last taste of gravity for a while. Passive artificial gravity is a strange commodity. The world outside the windows whirls slowly around as the big wheel turns, but to you the station is parked perfectly still. They say that in the next few years active electronic gravity field generators will become so efficient that it will be the end of rotating space stations, spacecraft, and water-tank training facilities. They say it will also eventually be the end of zero-G travel altogether, which will be a blow to the motion sickness pill makers.
The Station keeps Eastern Standard Time. We had come in a bit early. The concourse was sparsely populated but that was changing. People were beginning to commute. Wilson and I sat with our backs to the windows, drank coffee and waited.
“Did you have a good time at Heidi’s?”
“I’m sorry about that, Adrian. I would’ve been okay if he hadn’t shoved her. You can’t let a thing like that go.”
“I agree.”
“Did we get in much trouble about that?”
“If we did, they’ll have problems bringing us in.”
“I guess we’re wanted men, off-world and on.”
“A regular James gang.”
“Hee, hee.”
An attractive woman in a short, amber-red skirt with a high-collared amber blouse strolled by, distracting us.
“You see Danica while all that was goin’ on?” he said.
“Yes, grasshopper.”
“I think she saved the back of my head. Where the hell did she learn that stuff?”
“Her parents made her study the arts from age six. Now she seems to have developed an addiction for the sparring ring. You’d better watch it.”
“That’s a dangerous talent, you know.”
“I know.”
“Too much clean fighting makes you vulnerable when things get down and dirty.”
“I know.”
“You get surprised when the real punishment starts. Subconsciously you’re not expecting to get cut, and when it happens you lose some focus.”
“I have a few of those.”
“Me too.”
He sipped his coffee and got that far away look in his eye. A page came over a nearby loudspeaker. “Commander Tarn, please report to the Griffin.”
It was a surprisingly short visit. We returned to the Griffin to a chorus of praise and awe at how well the ship’s navigation system was set up. They had never seen programming of such cyclomatic complexity. The tolerances were beyond what they had expected. They wanted to know what group did the initial setups. What equipment was used for the final alignments? I had to plead innocence to it all. They gathered up their equipment and headed off in a bunch, rambling on about the artistry of the A.I. just experienced, something to add to the ‘remember when’ list for natural born geniuses who live in a mindset of zeros and ones.
One by one, I called the crew back. They were all brisk about it, except for Paris Denard. He had to be persuaded to return no less than three times. Ironically, my original plan of abandoning him would have been a piece of cake.
Danica asked for the helm. Everyone approved. I took the copilot seat. At physical separation she swung us around and outside to a position above the South Pole, far enough away to be adequately clear of Earth’s influence, a synchronous orbit and spacecraft alignment that made us an arrowhead at Earth’s South Pole. In the back they set the main view screens to the rear-looking cameras for last looks at Earth. On the flight deck we all chose a personal monitor and did the same. This time there were no ecliptic bodies to be concerned with. We would be literally diving away from Earth, straight down. After a forty-five minute wait for the proper trajectory, Danica tapped in the pre-launch sequence and the Griffin automatically thrust its nose to precisely the right direction and tracked it there.
She pressed the intercom, “Is everyone ready?”
RJ responded. “Wait, I think I left the water running.”
There were moans and groans.
With a five-second countdown, she punched the engage button. We were pressed back into our seats and watched Earth’s blue quickly fade to become a small star. Just as quickly it disappeared from view, leaving only our sun shrinking in the distance behind us.
Chapter 28