Out
A series about Mars
by Daniel
E. Machado
Chapter 26
"… so it looks like Fred will be staying
here at Atlantis Tower with us for the next few months. He hasn’t told
us yet just exactly why he’s grounded, but word around the Tower is that
there’s a lot of AeroDyn types planetside just now, so I don’t think it’s
anything personal. He seems happy enough to be here. Got a job tending
bar down in the commerce section. Says that's how he worked his way through
college, which I kind of sort of believe. He's handy like that, you know.
Roselene couldn't be happier, as you might guess. To tell you the truth,
I’m kind of happy to have him here myself. I've been extremely busy down
here since we all arrived and without Fredy around to give my little Rosey
some extra domestic-continuity I’m not sure how my baby would be reacting
right now. Roselene's a very strong little girl, but...
"Well, I guess if I’ve digressed
down into introspective self-analysis then it’s time for me to go. You
take care of yourself, Johnny. Roselene and I still miss you every day.
I know you guys will all be busy on your trip back but post me again real
soon if you can. I love… we all love hearing from you. Good-bye,
John."
From her bedroom Blade’s tiny flatscreen
image flutters then disappears. Most of the rigging crew bring holo-novels
or music to pass the time during the sometimes hours-long transfers. John
prefers personal posts. It might seems fatalistic but if he’s to die out
here alone in the stars John prefers his final image to be that of the
people he loves and not some fabricated holo-vixen.
"What’s our ETA, Mike?" John asks.
"Just over nineteen mikes. Could
be bumped up to fifteen without much strain." Comes the slightly echoed
reply inside John's helmet. In front of him the back of Chief Hanly’s helmet
shifts about from control to control. From a secured frame in his helmet
the Chief’s tiny holographic face takes his eyes off the needlecraft's
readouts and glances in on John.
"Take your time, Mike." John
head shakes. At regular intervals during any extended rigging mission all
team-leader/shuttle-pilot are required to take at least one Physical Break;
that is, physically remove themselves from the cockpit. This procedure
performs two functions: it's proven preventative against Static Stimuli
Syndrome or "Brain Snap" -- a real problem in single-craft piloting, plus
also helps keep the alternate pilot's rating current. Watching him with
amusement John finds the Chief’s fear-fascination with having his head
poked outside the hull’s protective shell nearly equal to his own. Never
losing their impassive professionalism the Chief’s eyes still manage to
reflect immense pleasure.
"You ready to come back up for
rendezvous, LT?" Hanly asks.
"No. You go ahead and take the practice."
John grins at Hanly's tiny holo. "I think I'll give our little needle
a thorough mid-task inspection. Find out what sort of damage you club-footed
apes have been doing to her while I’ve been busy playing driving bus."
"On darn." The image states
soberly. "I do hope the boys aren’t still playing laser-tag with the
emergency pyrotechnics."
"Is that what all those muffled explosions
were?"
"Didn’t think you’d noticed."
Chief Hanly finally smiles. John’s gloved finger gives the Chief’s helmet
top a double-tap in reply.
"You know, I've been thinking."
John tells the Chief's tiny holographic image. "This'll be my sixth spindle
docking in seven hours. I'm starting to get bored with the procedure, and
that's not good. This time I think maybe we should switch tasks for rendezvous.
You take the rendezvous and maintain station-proximity and I'll go back
and do the recovery. I'm sure we could both stand the break."
"Thanks. I can use the prime ratings
time."
"Quite welcome, Mike. But the favor
will be all mine. I’m getting itchy for a little zero-g."
"Well, don’t go getting distracted."
Hanly's image warns parental. "We haven’t found any stray-strands yet,
but that doesn’t mean they’re not there."
"You advising me on proper procedure,
Chief?" John’s words hint at a jest not returned by his Chief.
"No, Lieutenant. It’s just that
I’ve only hard-docked an unsimulated neddlecraft twice. And call it lowered
self-expectations if you will, but I’m not feeling extremely confident
about attempting an emergency hard-dock with your severed limbs crowding
my stress-factor comfort-zone. Besides, I’m the one who trained you. Any
failure on your part reflects badly on me."
"Aye, Chief." John replies crew-like.
"And, I’ll likewise view any dings in my hull."
"Aye, Lieutenant. I’ll treat her
like my own." The chief’s eyes dart away, already simulating refinements
to the computer-generated rendezvous and position-maintenance programs.
"I’ll leave you to it, then."
"Aye, Lieutenant."
Pushing his way down away from the
shuttle’s cramped nose cavity John lowers himself into the padded geodesic
jungle-gym that passes for a needlecraft’s interior. The series of foam-padded
rod-framed bays remind John more of a zero-g rec-room than the super-structure
of a working spacecraft. Back down toward the ship’s fuel tanks John finds
five e-suited men drifting against the thrusters in a relative heads-up
position. Unless you need some privacy it’s easier to stay polarized. Also
you don’t get kicked in the head quite so often. Crew One, Chief Hanly's
crew, has been working as shuttle-crew for this mission, a fact John is
sure they both hate. EVA time pays at a better rate. Crew Two, Ensign Roche’s
crew, has taken up position back near the shuttle’s main engine controls.
John’s prime-crew may have grown to disdain the duty, but the younger crews
all see shuttle crew as an aspiration. From the way Ensign Roche and Senior
Transport Tech Nabil Khalil flick their wrists and fingers in subliminal
ASL John can tell the two are deep in discussion. From his vantage point
up near the command module John can only tell that someone is angry with
someone about something. Reacting mostly out of curiosity John's tongue
flicks across his tooth-switch to link him audio-only into the shuttle’s
crew chat-net.
"… fuck’n bunch'a corporate politics
is what it is." Blurts crew-one’s task-specialist Ken Nishimura, his
California-Nipponese accent immediately identifiable. "When we were
outbound Crew Two-Alpha-Zero only had us beat by a hundred collective hours.
After the last three re-stores they’re up on us by almost two-fifty. How’re
we supposed to get any crew seniority when they won't give us the good
EVAs? Fuckin' spindle-maintance is bullshit!"
"Man, you spinning yourself up
for nothing." Spaceman Khalil's South African meter moves his American-English.
Using his command-access John pulls up Nabil Khalil’s external helmet archive.
The spaceman’s gracefully drifting hands work with effortless precision
at the shuttle’s engine controls. Chief Hanly may be Team A’s Crew Chief,
but Spacer First Khalil is the
shuttle’s crew-chief, a job the man
treats with the passion of ancestral ownership. "It’s got nothing to
do with no crew seniority or no mission-time. Two-Alpha-Zero’s got three
guys from dirtside Corporate, management fast-track types. You can’t beat
that kind of pull."
"Where’d you hear that?" Ensign
Roche’s voice asks in its unmistakable Nebraska-flat. John smiles at how
assertive the man is when he’s not reporting on archive.
"Nolan? Who’s Nabil dating?"
Nishimura asks flatly, as if in answer.
"Oh… " Comes Roche’s knowing
reply. "I see. And what else has your little bird told you?"
"Nothing, man. My girl she tells
me nothing, you know. But, you hang around Personnel long enough, you know,
waiting for the girl to show, and sometimes you pick up on a thing or two.
Some times I seen the guys from Two-Alpha-Zero in there, seen who talks
to who. Don't take a genius to plus-factor a couple a twos."
"Well," Nishimura laughs a
bit loud for a spacer. "Like the man says: Positioning's everything."
From Khalil’s helmet exterior John
sees Nishimura’s gloved right hand flash two abbreviated signals. First
his fingers barely form the letters "LT." in a way usually meant to indicate
a "lieutenant", while his other hand quickly taps two fingers to his helmet
side indicating a audio comm-check. Khalil’s thumb twitches acknowledgment.
If these men hadn't been from John's own team he most likely would have
never seen it, but Khalil and Nishimura have been with him for nearly as
long as Hanly and after so many years he notices even the slightest twitch.
Ensign Roche apparently misses the exchange all together.
"Well, I think it’s more than just
politics and fast-track corporate types. Ever since the passengers left
we've been getting all the shit-jobs. Like they had it in for the LT and
was just waiting ‘til… Huh?" With a tongue-tap John adds Ensign Roche’s
helmet external to his display. The view jostles then settles as if bumped.
From Khalil’s external archive John sees Nishimura flash the same two signs,
this time much more distinctly.
"I… uh. Oh, shit."
To prevent Ensign Roche’s imitate
explosive-decompression John again tongues his tooth-switch and opens team-one’s
link-frame to include only himself and his other three members of team-one.
Three tiny holo graphic faces form along John’s left helmet edge.
"Gentlemen, the Chief and I have decided
to take advantage of this milk-run for a little cross-training opportunity."
Smiling at each holo John makes brief eye-contact. "As the Chief has so
graciously pointed out, this will require his absence during the recovery
transfer. Now as we all know, the Chief can spot a loose strand with his
eyes closed and his back turned. I on the other hand have yet to acquire
this skill, so for this recovery I’d like to have keel-hatch-one and deck-hatch-two
open and maned for look-out. Do you concur, Chief?"
"Reasonable precaution. Appropriate
training." The Chief replies with spacer brevity.
"Good." John nods. "Khalil, Nishimura,
if you have no objections I’d like to enlist team-two for recovery duty.
You guys already know this stuff and the practices will help their ratings."
Both men nod back at John, their holos
exchanging what must be a side-glance. With another tongue-tap John activates
the officer’s command-link. Ensign Roche’s perpetually startled face winks
into existence just opposite his team-link.
"Mister Roche, as a cross-training
opportunity the Chief and I will be exchanging position. As a precaution
we will man look-outs on both hatches keel-one and deck-two. For exercise
purposes team-two will be acting as primary."
"Y… yes, sir." Roche stumbles
apologetic. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
"Think nothing of it." John pointedly
smiles, hoping but doubting that Roche will catch his double meaning and
move on. "I suggest you assign Ledin down below as primary look-out and
Twilegar up on deck-two as backup. I’ll handle recovery. You will work
Specialist Nishimura’s position as my recovery-secondary." Glancing over
at his helmet’s chronometer John asks. "Can you have your people in position
within seven-point-five mikes?"
"Y… yes, sir." Roche replies.
"Good. I’ll leave you to it."
Tonguing the command-link closed John
reopens team-one's audio-link but as he suspects finds them all at task.
Pulling up all shuttle helmet externals John notices Transport Specialist
Khalil recheck and refine the shuttle’s engine - in effect watching over
the Chief’s shoulder - while Nishimura watches over Ensign Roche, correcting
with hand-signals as the ensign sets up port-side hatch-two for a matched-velocity
crew-recovery. Muting out the others John reopens his secure-link to Chief
Hanly.
"How’s it going, Mike?"
"On the mark. I have spindle-three
on a direct-visual now. Anchor-tether detected at a two-degrees variant
from shuttle vector."
"Not to close, Chief. Keep the tether
at least two-klicks off until final."
"Aye, Lieutenant." Chief Hanly
looks down then smiles. John suspects he’s looking at an exact 2.0k reading
on his doppler. "Main recovery station okay?"
"Don’t worry. Kenny’s got our young
Mister Nolan well in hand. I’ve half a mind to let the two them handle
it themselves."
"Maybe you should." Hanly says.
"You serious, Chief? You really think
Roche is up to it?"
"Maybe we should find out. Better
now than sometime when there's lives to pay."
"Suggestion noted." John nod back
at the Chief's tiny image as he tongues open the command-link and Ensign
Roche’s helmet holo reappears.
"Ensign Roche?"