Authors: Richard Perth
The asteroid was cooling rapidly, and it blocked
sunlight from reaching what was left of
Michael
.
David regained consciousness in zero
g
on a side passageway. He was still wearing his spacesuit and had an agonizing
cluster headache that seemed to extend to every part of his body. He fought the
pain to ask the nearby robot, “Why are we here?”
“You went into cardiac arrest repeatedly
because of the heat, and the automatic defibrillator in your spacesuit kept
shocking you back to life, sir. This robot brought you here because it is
cooler. You should turn on the heat in your spacesuit now and go back into the
main cabin, before your body temperature drops further.”
David felt more pain when he moved, and he was
weak. But he turned on his spacesuit heat and forced himself through the
passageway and airlock with the discreet help of the robot.
Pressure was normal inside the cabin and in part
of the storage area.
When he reached the bedroom compartment, the
robot helped him out of his spacesuit and into his sleeping bag. Then it asked
him to drink a small bottle of something that tasted salty and sprayed
something on the back of his throat, twice. David asked what it was, but he fell
asleep during the explanation.
▼
He was still in pain when he woke up, but he
felt much better. David found the robot in the shirtsleeve control compartment.
The video screen displayed the ship’s status and navigation information with a
red flag warning that the data were unreliable and there was no outside view.
“What’s our status?” David asked.
“As you can see sir, all outside video has been
lost.
Michael
is blind. All communication antennas have failed. During
the skip, the engines most exposed to heat and pressure were damaged and shut down.
Many fuel tanks burst because of extreme heat. Most of the fuel and consumables
were lost, but that loss carried away heat and helped save the ship from total
destruction. This robot shut down the least exposed engines after the skip to
save fuel. About three percent of the remaining fuel is leaking per Earth day.
The status of outside doors and of the ship in relation to the asteroid is unknown.
The navigation display is red-flagged because the astro-inertial navigation
system has not received a recent calibration.”
David asked, “Do you have internal gyroscopes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can they be referenced to space?”
“Yes sir, with adequate star sightings.”
“Can you do star sightings without a sextant or
charts?”
“Yes, sir. This robot is electronically linked
to the ship’s control system and memory. It contains the necessary
information.”
“Can you calibrate the ship’s navigation
system?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, robot. Give me time to drink a liquid
meal and put on my spacesuit. Then try to open and close all outside doors
except the shield door, get star sightings where you can, and calibrate the
ship’s gyros. While you’re looking out, inspect the ship and report back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Before David put on his spacesuit, he took
three aspirin.
▼
The red flag on the navigation display went off
not long after the robot left. As David expected,
Michael
was rapidly
leaving an already-distant Earth. A fuel calculation showed that if
engine-firing time was kept to an absolute minimum, the ship might have enough
to get back to Earth.
The robot returned and reported: “
Michael
is partially welded to the asteroid, sir, probably because of melting during
the skip. From what this robot could see, the most exposed half of the ship is
severely damaged. All passageways have been destroyed except those to the least
exposed lateral door and to the shield door. The visible external surface of the
asteroid appears to be nickel-iron.”
“Belt yourself into your maneuvering console,”
David commanded. “We’re going to try to get rid of this thing.”
“Would it be better to conserve the ship’s fuel
and wait for rescue, sir?”
“No. There’s nothing left on Earth that can
catch us. It’s unlikely that a ship could be built and reach us before we run
out of fuel in 33 days. We need to break free before the surface of the
asteroid becomes even more solid.”
Three engine pairs started on the side of the
ship that had been least exposed. David put all six engines in maximum reverse
thrust.
He said, “Robot, we’re going to flip
tail-over-tea-kettle after we break free. We’ll have to go to full forward
thrust to stop the spin. You stay belted in and alert.”
“Yes, sir.”
David waited, and waited, and waited, and then he
went to sleep.
A sudden lurch and a high
g
force woke
him. The starship was flipping end over end. Tunnel vision warned him that he
was near a blackout. Before he could reach the controls, the engines went to
full forward thrust opposing the spin.
Good robot
.
After what seemed to be a long time, during
which David stared at the monitor and worried about fuel consumption, the
spinning stopped, and he shut down the engines.
David told the robot, “I want you to take
another star fix from the shield door. I don’t want to waste fuel on course
corrections we can avoid.”
“Yes, sir.”
The shield door was reported warped but
operable by the robot. It re-calibrated the navigation system and belted itself
back in its maneuvering control console. David aligned
Michael
on course
to intercept Earth. Because all working engines were on one side, he had to use
vectored thrust to keep the ship from flipping over as it accelerated.
When the ship was near the correct intercept
course and speed, David shut down the engines and had the robot make another
calibration check. After two short engine firings and two more calibrations,
David was satisfied that
Michael
was on course to intercept Earth. He
shut the engines down, took off his space suit, consumed a zero
g
meal,
and climbed into his sleeping bag.
Like most days in Los Angeles, March 30, 2554
was clear and bright. The omniglass wall near Claire, Naomi, and Mark, was in
the sun screen mode when they heard a chime. The omniglass went black except
for what appeared to be stars surrounding the electronically enhanced image of
a burned and blackened object.
Amira asked, “Do you recognize this, Claire?”
Her eyes went wide and she tensed. “That’s
Michael
!
Or what’s left of it. It looks terrible!” She wondered if David could be alive
in the wreckage, and tears appeared in her eyes.
“Madam President, Elf is receiving a weak
transmission from a robot on
Michael
. It’s asking for reentry and
landing clearance.”
“Divert all other traffic as necessary and clear
it, Elf. Ask if it can relay voice transmission to General Archer.”
“It said yes, ma’am.”
Amira said, “Go ahead, Claire.”
With her heart in her throat, Claire said,
“David?”
“Hey, Cougar. How are you? How’s our daughter?”
Claire was overwhelmed with joy. When she
recovered enough to speak, she said, “We’re fine. How did you know about her?”
“Elf uploaded video of her being born when I
was herding the meteor.”
“I’m glad you got to see that.”
“Me, too. I’m running low on fuel, and I’ve
only got six engines on one side. I’m going to have to dump this thing in the water
off Point Conception. I’d appreciate it if you could get something out there to
pick me up before I get too waterlogged.”
Amira said, “Get rescue out there now, Elf!”
“Did you copy that, Buni?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ve got to go now.
Michael
out. Robot, close the door and get back to maneuvering, quickly.”
Amira said, “I’ll send a taxi for you, Claire. I’ll
meet you at Vandenberg.”
Naomi and Mark offered to stay with the baby,
and Claire gratefully accepted.
Her elation grew and filled her heart as she hurriedly
prepared herself to greet her husband.
▼
The rocks off Point Conception, south of
Vandenberg, were headstones for a graveyard of wrecked ships that had failed to
navigate around the Point. David planned to ditch
Michael
just south of
the rocks. The oxygen and fuel on board would be absorbed back into the water
from which they came. The ship’s structure would become another refuge for life
in the sea.
Wearing his space suit, David climbed through
the airlock from the cabin to the bottom of the upper passageway. Power was out
to that part of the ship, but his helmet had built in lights.
He told the robot to shut down the engines. At
zero
g
, it only took him seconds to leap up the long passageway to the
shield door at the top of the ship. He connected his safety line, hung onto the
handholds built into the steps, and told the robot to restart the engines.
David grabbed the manual door release lever and
pulled. Nothing happened. He relaxed, took a deep breath, and used the full
strength of his arms and legs, but the door did not budge.
He wondered if he should try the other working door.
The exhaust blasts from the six working engines were dangerously close to it, but
an open door of any kind would beat this one.
“Robot, did you say you opened the shield door?”
“Yes sir, several times. But it is warped, so
it could be difficult to open.”
Yeah, right
.
Hard to open for a robot with its immense strength
could be impossible for even the strongest human.
Just then, the deceleration stopped, David felt
his body go to zero
g
, and the debate in his head stopped.
“Sir, the ship is out of fuel,” the robot said.
There was no time to get to the other door
before
Michael
crashed. It was this door or nothing.
David did the one thing he had instinctively
avoided: he straddled the release handle and pulled as hard as he could. If the
door opened, the handle could hit him between his legs—hard. But it was that or
crash.
Open or die
, he thought and concentrated on pulling harder.
The door flew open into the slipstream and flapped
violently. David’s hands slipped off the handle, and its end grazed his suit as
he fell away. When he reached the end of his safety line, he was slammed into a
side of the passageway. He bounced off, caught a handhold, and climbed back up.
Then he unhooked his safety line and carefully climbed past the dangerously
flapping door. Wake turbulence pulled him clear and tumbled him out of control.
When he reached clear air, he extended his arms
and legs to stabilize his descent. He could see Point Conception far below and
three sea-rescue taxis streaking in his direction.
“This is David Archer,” he said. “
Michael
has run out of fuel. I’m in free fall at about fifty thousand feet. Any chance
I can get a ride in one of the taxis near Point Conception?”
▼
Cameras onboard the rescue taxis found a tiny
speck high above them and zoomed in. The image of David was relayed to the
media and shown around the world. On the omniglass window beside her taxi seat,
Claire was shocked to see
Michael
and David falling.
▼
With the taxis in a maximum performance climb
to intercept David, Elf said, “Taxis are on the way, General Archer.”
“If you’ll position one in front of me with a
door open, I’ll try to fly aboard.”
“Yes, sir.”
David fell several miles while a taxi was
getting into position. He flew directly at the open door at a high speed to
break through the expected airflow. But it was like trying to throw a tennis
ball through a hurricane. He was deflected and tumbled out of control.
After he stabilized his fall again, he asked,
“Any ideas, Elf?”
“A taxi in sideslip with both doors open could
try to pick you up, sir. The airflow through the cabin could pull you in.”
“Let’s try it.”
It almost worked. He was sucked head first in
one side door and ejected out the other side—too fast for the two robots on
board to grab him or for him to grab anything. Again he tumbled.
He recovered to another stabilized descent and
looked down. The ocean seemed close enough to touch, and he was falling fast.
Time for experiments was running out.
David asked, “Elf, is the bird deflection
screen strong enough to support my weight?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. If I can’t ride in a taxi, I’ll ride on
one. I’ll hold my position steady while you run a taxi under me.”
“Yes, sir. A taxi is on the way.”
After what seemed to be eternity,
Wham
!
The taxi hit so hard that it knocked the breath out of him. The deflection
screen buckled but sprang back into shape. David’s legs straddled the middle
vertical stabilizer. He spread his arms and hands over the screen and tried to
hold on as he struggled to breathe.
Full emergency power was directed to the lift
chamber as equipment and seats were thrown out of the taxi to lighten it. Then
two robots jumped out.
Elf said, “The taxi will crash, sir. Brace
yourself.”
The flexible deflector screen cushioned the
impact of the crash on David’s upper body, but again, his breath was knocked
out of him.
The wreckage of the taxi sank nose first. The
horizontal stabilizer caught David behind his knees and pulled him underwater:
there was not enough room between the stabilizer and the engines to swing his
legs and feet free. He fought to get his breath back and get away, but water
pinned him like a blast from a fire hose as the taxi sank. It dove through a large
group of red and white fish too quickly for David to recognize them. Then it plunged
into a kelp forest. He was bombarded by a massive assault of kelp and crossed
his arms in front of his helmet to protect it.
When the taxi’s dive slowed, David broke free. Though
he felt like his head was up and his feet were down, he was in total darkness.
As an experienced instrument pilot, he knew better than to trust his sense of
balance without reference to the natural horizon or aircraft instruments:
stories of pilots killed by spatial disorientation and the “dead man’s spiral”
were legion.
He felt something bumping into him everywhere,
all over his body and arms and legs. David turned on his suit lights, but all
he could see was broken, torn, and shredded kelp. Surrounded by it, immersed in
it, and buried in it, he tried to sweep it away with his arms. But as soon as some
kelp moved, more took its place.
He knew his oxygen supply was limited, and he
had to get to the surface, but
how
? Which way was up?
Then he remembered that kelp had gas filled
bladders that gave it positive buoyancy. He knew his spacesuit had neutral
buoyancy, so he went perfectly still to watch the kelp. He felt relieved when he
saw it was moving in the direction he thought was up: his suit had righted
itself like it was supposed to.
But how do you swim in this stuff?
Keeping his feet together, he slowly raised his
arms as straight up and as high as he could, then swept his hands and arms down
in a stroke. It worked, and he moved up against the kelp. He did it again, and
again.
His helmet lights were useless. All they showed
was kelp, and he wanted to be able to see the surface of the ocean. David
turned the lights off and counted ten strokes. Then turned his lights on and watched
the kelp to make sure he was going the right way. He was. Then he did twenty
strokes and checked again, and then another twenty.
The possibility of decompression sickness
occurred to him, but he dismissed it. He was breathing pure oxygen. Even if he had
been breathing air, his upward progress was slow enough for his body to adjust.
What did concern him was whether he would get to the surface before his oxygen
ran out.
▼
The two remaining sea-rescue taxis landed on
the ocean’s surface. Each dropped a tethered sensor into the water. Data was
collected, merged, and converted into clear images of everything in the water
for hundreds of yards. The media picked up the images and broadcast them around
the world.
On her omniglass window, Claire could see
broken kelp rising to form a layer that floated over the kelp forest.
A shoal of a thousand jumbo squid slowly
returned to the crash site. Their colors changed back and forth between red and
white, a sign of aggression, as they searched for the cause of their fear and
anger. Meanwhile, they cannibalized squid that had been injured or killed by
the crashing taxi.
A media announcer said, “Humboldt squid, also
called jumbo squid or Red Devils, are
carnivorous marine invertebrates
that hunt collectively and devour prey bigger than themselves
. Many weigh more than one hundred pounds and are over six
feet long, not counting ten tentacles that surround a razor sharp beak. Shaped
like that of a parrot, the squid’s beak can be as big as a man’s fist. Suckers
surrounded by sharp teeth are arrayed along the tentacles. Two triangular fins and
water ejected through a siphon can propel the squid up to 15 miles per hour.”
A robot diver jumped into the water from one of
the rescue taxis. Its side hands were webbed for swimming and its feet were
large flippers. It carried an inflatable life vest in its back hand and a
combination electroshock and bang stick in its front hand. The weapon had two
prongs on one end that sent a jolt of electricity between them when they were
pressed against a target. On the other end was a bang stick mechanism, which
fired a waterproof shotgun shell when pressed against a target.
The other taxi lifted off and began to hover
over the kelp forest, searching for David.
▼
David swam more than a hundred and thirty
strokes before he saw light off to one side and above him. He stroked toward
it.
The inside of David’s helmet briefly flashed yellow.
Oxygen warning!
He fought down panic and continued to stroke. A second
yellow flash came several seconds later. With only minutes of oxygen remaining,
David continued swimming at the same, steady pace and hoped that was the most
efficient use of the oxygen he had left.
As he neared the top of the kelp forest, David
saw a sea rescue taxi floating on the surface, beside the floating kelp. He
smiled and changed course to swim toward it.
Shortly after he swam clear above the
underwater forest, he felt what he thought was more kelp attached to his right
leg, dragging him down. He tried to shake it free, but it did not come off.
When he looked down, he saw tentacles of a hundred-pound
Humboldt squid was wrapped around his leg. The body of the beast was as long as
David was tall, and he felt fear creep up his spine. He raised his left leg and
tried to kick it off. The squid quickly released its hold on David’s right leg,
wrapped its tentacles around both of his knees, and tried to bite into his
right thigh.