Saving proxima, p.22
Saving Proxima, page 22
“Good. Thank you, Nigel.” Roy cycled the door to his quarters open.
“You are quite welcome, chum. When you are scared . . . ” Nigel added the front part of an old Scottish friendship saying that Roy had programmed into him years ago. Nigel threw things like that into the conversation from time to time.
“I’ll shake the piss out of ye until you’re not,” Roy finished, almost laughing. “Well, let’s go walk in space at sixty-something percent the speed of light.”
CHAPTER 34
January 12, 2091 (Earth timeline)
March 18, 2090 (Ship timeline)
approximately 6 light-months from Earth
3.64 light-years from Proxima
“Pankish, you ready in there?” Cindy Mastrano’s voice sounded in Roy’s helmet. He had to squint each time the red flashing light by the airlock egress illuminated because of the glare it made inside his bubble. “My screens show you are all in the green and good to go.”
“Copy, CHENG. My suit is good. Dr. Burbank has given me the second-party inspection. Seals are green. I’m good to go,” Patel replied. He turned and looked at Roy with a grin and a thumbs-up. Roy scanned the small light-emitting diodes at each seal once again to make certain they were green. All was good as far as he could tell.
“Roy, you ready?” Cindy asked him through the suit comms. It had taken him several attempts to have Nigel adjust the volume settings just right so that Cindy’s voice didn’t rupture an eardrum when she spoke. She was the type of personality that spoke loudly, always, so Roy had his AI put a filter on her voice. “Pankish is second-party checking my seals and systems right now. My suit shows all greens, Cindy. I am good to go as soon as Pank gives the thumbs-up.”
Patel patted the backpack of his suit twice and gave the thumbs-up as Roy turned around to face him. They both nodded to each other and held out a shiny metal carabiner in their left hands. They each pulled cable from the box harnessed to their suits and then snapped the fastener to the two-centimeter-diameter metal bar fashioned into a half loop moored to the inner bulkhead of the airlock. The fasteners snapped and then clicked, locking the connector mechanism into place. To remove it required depressing two spring-loaded hasps at the same time—it wasn’t easy to undo on purpose.
“Burbank, tether number one in place.” Roy tugged at it a couple times just to make certain.
“Patel, tether number one in place.” Roy watched as Pankish did the same.
They both then started pulling a second tether with a red carabiner on the end. Roy started working out the cable to give him a bit of slack and then he snapped it onto the metal half loop about twenty centimeters below the first one. Patel quickly repeated the same process.
“Burbank here, tether number two is in place and secured.” Roy stood still and waited. His mind was racing with all the things that could go wrong on an EVA like the one they were about to do. No human, as far as they knew, had ever attempted such an EVA that had such severe consequences for becoming detached from the ship. Back home in-system, if an astronaut fell off during an EVA, then they could use the EVA jets to pull back to the ship or a ship or shuttle could drop back and pick them up. There was no chance of a rescue here. No clever release of toolbelts, oxygen, or anything other than divine intervention would catch them back up to a nearly one-gravity accelerating ship if they fell off it in very deep space.
“Patel here, tether number two is in place and secured.”
Roy stood and waited and waited. It seemed like a while, almost too long, and just as he was about to say something over the comm network, Cindy’s voice broke the silence. She seemed all business and professional. Roy was glad for that.
“EVA Astronaut Roy Burbank, EVA Astronaut Pankish Patel, be alerted that Captain Crosby has given the authority to cycle the airlock,” she told them in a nearly monotonal voice. Roy thought an AI couldn’t have been more to the point. He suspected that it was more for the legal recording of the orders rather than pure professionalism. Roy had done EVAs before and this seemed pretty much standard as far as he could tell. That is, standard other than the fact that they were cruising through open very deep space and pushing the speed of light. “Depressurization will begin in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, depressurization sequence activated.”
There was no hissing that Roy had expected to hear at first. But then, he could feel a high-frequency vibration through the floor that was a high enough frequency that it actually tickled his feet within his EVA toe-boots. Then he could hear it—an air-handler pump was humming loudly. A pressure number appeared in his virtual view displayed through his smart contacts. It started at “1.00 ATM” and then started dropping at the second decimal point. Each time the number dropped by a tenth of an atmosphere Roy could feel his LCVCG squeeze his body just a bit tighter as the power source in his backpack excited the metamaterial carbon nanotube filaments with an electromagnetic field, making them tighten like a boa constrictor.
The suit constricted and kept the body from expanding and swelling in the low pressure. Modern suits worked through compression, not like the suits of the last century where the astronaut was actually inside an inflated body suit. Those were too clunky, cumbersome, and motion constricting. The modern compression spacesuits enabled astronauts to pretty much move about as well as they could while not wearing it. In fact, the compression suits worked so well in body function that there was an entire line of them sold to the fitness industry to remove body soreness, protect weak joints, and enhance athletic performance. All the Olympic and professional athletes wore them across almost every sport that required high stress and elite performance. The military had also implemented them as the undergarments for combat uniforms. The days of the “Michelin Man astronaut suits” were long gone. The only inflated space in the suit was the transparent bubble around the head.
By the time the number got to “0.35 ATM,” Roy could still feel the vibrations in the floor, but he could no longer hear the pump cycling the air out of the lock. While the suit continued to constrict him, his body got used to it. A few minutes into the process and Roy just felt like he was wearing a really tight pair of stretchy pants. After about ten minutes the airlock pressure showed that there was no atmosphere and they were at the point of opening the exterior hatch.
“Okay, guys, lock systems show that you are at zero-pressure differential on either side of the hatch. You are cleared to disengage the locking mechanism,” Cindy’s voice instructed them.
“Roger that, Cindy. The airlock-to-ingress light is red showing a one-atmosphere pressure delta. The airlock-to-egress light is green for zero delta pressure. Airlock shows we are clear to disengage the hatch locking mechanism,” Patel stated. “Dr. Burbank, do you concur?”
Per union rules of any shipping company back in the Sol system all members of an EVA party exiting a craft had to concur on opening an airlock door. It was and had been standard procedure pretty much since the beginning of commercial space travel. Roy wasn’t sure how he felt about union gigs, but as far as safety regs went, he didn’t mind so much.
“This is Burbank. I concur.” Roy watched as Pankish grasped the metal wheel of the door locking mechanism with both hands. His right on top of the wheel with an overhand grip and his left at the bottom with an underhand grip, he turned the wheel three complete revolutions until there was a clanking vibration through the door that translated across the floor and into Roy’s feet. Then there was another vibration as if some spring-loaded or electromechanical device had cycled. Patel pushed the door and it popped outward quickly and then cycled out of the way to the outside of the ship. It happened so quickly that Roy almost flinched.
“Hatch is open, we’re staring at space,” Patel said as he turned and gave Roy a big toothy grin. “Come on, Roy, it’s time to earn our pay today.”
“We get paid for this?” Roy chuckled.
CHAPTER 35
January 12, 2091 (Earth timeline)
March 18, 2090 (Ship timeline)
approximately 6 light-months from Earth
3.64 light-years from Proxima
“The FLOTA is just beyond us now,” Pankish told Roy. Roy watched as he scaled the Samaritan like it was El Capitan in California back on Earth. Roy wasn’t much for mountain climbing. In fact, he’d never been mountain climbing, but he had been on the outside of spacecraft before—just not while they were accelerating as fast as this one was. “Once we get there, Roy, we will need to anchor again.”
“Copy that, Pank.” Roy took a short swig of water from the tube in front of his face. For a brief moment his nose started to itch and he wanted to scratch it, but the mood-enhancement patch kicked in and calmed the nerve endings on his skin to reduce that urge. “Everything is dandy back here.”
“Good.” Pankish paused his climb for a second, standing steady on the exterior ladder hooks. Roy could see he was looking back at him. “Need a breather yet?”
“I’m good, Pank. We can keep going if you want,” Roy said, not quite breathing too heavily to carry on a conversation.
“Well, dammit, Roy. You are going to make me look bad.” Pankish stopped, extracted a small half-meter-long tether, and clipped himself onto the ladder. Once he checked that it was good and secure, he let go with his hands and leaned back into his harness, shaking his arms out. “I suggest we take a moment, Roy. Lock in and rest.”
“Hahaha!” Roy laughed at himself and then pulled the safety cable out and clipped it onto the ladder handle. “No problem.”
“Think we can see Proxima, Doc?” Pankish asked.
“I think we’re too far behind the bridge dome. We’d need to be outward radially another couple meters or more.”
“Yeah, what I was thinking too.” Pankish shook his arms out again and then put one hand on the ladder above him. “I’m good to go if you are.”
“Go.”
* * *
It had taken about fifteen minutes for the two of them to reach the spot on the ladder about five meters above the Forward-Looking Optical Telescope. Once they had gotten there the two of them immediately strapped in safety harnesses and did their best to catch their breath. It had been a long forty-meter or so climb. Roy had been telling himself to keep putting hand over hand and foot over foot until they’d reached the peak nearest and just above the telescope.
The five meters laterally from the ladder to the telescope were the more frightening to Roy. They were going to have to strap to the ladder and then descend back down below the telescope level. At that point they would use pendulum motion to swing themselves up to the assembly.
“The next time we design a starship, we need to put magnetic pathways to all the pertinent spots!” Roy grunted sarcastically. “Why we didn’t think that through is beyond me.”
“I know you are saying that with sarcasm right, Doc?” Pankish laughed. “If not, I’m sure the CHENG would love to spend a couple hours lecturing you on the MLIMPRoSS if you want her to. Believe me, I made that mistake once.”
“You two know I’m listening, right?” the CHENG said over the comm channel.
“That will be okay, Cindy. I know all about the Multi-Layer Insulating Metamaterial Particle and Radiation Shielding System. But would it have destroyed the diamagnetism of the metamaterial to put little ferromagnetic walkways about the circumference of the ship here and there?” Roy said. The idle chatting kept his mind from going into the fear zone of what they were about to be doing.
“You volunteered, Roy,” Cindy added. “Having second thoughts? Regrets?”
“Not on your life.” Roy dropped down about two meters behind Pankish to get out of his way. “I’m clear if you are ready, Pank.”
“Affirmative,” Patel said. “Do your best to hold your cable down against the ladder if I don’t catch on the first swing. I don’t want to get tripped up on it.”
“Maybe we should’ve gone up one at a time?” Roy noted. “You can’t get tripped on my wire if my wire isn’t there.”
“That is against regs,” Pankish rebutted. “Have to have a safety backup ready and enabled to take action if something happens to the first jumper.”
“That makes sense. Not sure I’ve read that reg before.” Roy was beginning to wonder if he was qualified for this particular EVA. But he was fairly sure that nobody truly was. He’d have to be careful and absorb as much on-the-job-training as he could manage. “I’m out of your way. Good to go whenever you see fit.”
“Alright, here goes nothing.”
Roy watched closely, just in case he had to act, but more to the point, so he would learn how to do what they were about to do. Pankish placed his feet firmly against the hull of the ship and let slack out on his line until he was standing perpendicular to it. He was in the classic climbing/rappelling position. He tested his balance a couple of times by jumping outward from the ship a few tens of centimeters and then landing in place with his knees bending softly as shock absorbers. Once he appeared to have his balance and bearings, Roy could see him turning his head toward the target.
“Roy, pick yourself a target. Mine is the portside-most handhold. I’m going for that,” Pankish told him. He adjusted the electromagnetic grips on his glove and then started running hard away from the ladder in the direction of the telescope.
Pankish reached the point where the acceleration of the ship, their artificial gravity well, was more of a force pulling at him than the friction of his toe-boots could overcome and his feet slipped free of the hull—but not before he gave one last kick off. He let the pendulum swing carry him through the arch, and as he bounced back toward the hull, he managed to kick once more giving him just enough angular momentum to reach the FLOTA and his targeted handhold. Pankish reached out, grabbed the handhold, and came to a stop. He quickly snapped a cable in place and Roy could hear him sighing in relief.
“Easy as that,” Pankish said. He rested in the rappelling position and turned to Roy. “Alright, now for the easier part.”
“Good job, Pank. CHENG, Patel is in position at the FLOTA.” Roy radioed in. “I’m now making the egress from the ladder to join him.”
As with any such climbing maneuver, Roy and Pankish were not just tethered to the ship’s hull in various places along their path, they were also tethered to each other. Once Pankish had made the leap across to the FLOTA, he merely needed to lock in and then reel Roy over to him.
“Start the line, Pankish,” Roy told him as he worked himself into rappelling position. “I’m ready.”
“Line reel on.”
Roy felt the tug at his waist where the line was snapped to his harness. As it tightened, he was pulled toward Pankish and the FLOTA. He bounced off the hull a few tens of centimeters and was pulled through the pendulum arch. He continued to bounce as the cable tightened each time. He picked a target safety loop on the starboard side of the FLOTA and as he got close enough, bounced himself in that direction, reaching out with his left hand stretching as far as he could.
“Dammit!” he exclaimed, just missing the handhold and falling backward by a couple of meters. His feet slipped out from under him and he fell over sideways, slamming his left shoulder against the hull. “Shit!”
“You alright, Roy?” Pankish asked. “Stopping the line.”
Roy hung upside down about a meter and a half away from the spot he’d targeted. He wasn’t tangled up in the cables and he wasn’t hurt. He just needed to work himself back over to his feet. Struggling to get friction between his knees and the hull he managed to squirm himself to an all-fours posture.
“Reel me in like this,” Roy said. “I’m okay. Just a bit embarrassed.”
“Reeling,” Pankish replied. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. We’ve all been there and done that.”
“Have you really?”
“Anybody who has done long hauls to the Belt or Mars has absolutely had to go out and do something on a tether that ended up, well, upside down. No shame,” Pankish said. Roy wasn’t sure if was just trying to make him feel better or not. He honestly didn’t care.
“Reeling.”
The cable pulled snug and Roy began crawling with the tether’s tension as best he could. Finally, he reached the handhold and pulled himself up, locking a safety cable into position. He caught his breath briefly and then nodded a thank-you to Patel.
“CHENG, EVA team is in position. We are ready to start with step one of the disassembly,” Patel said. “Roy, let’s get started.”
* * *
“Damned good work, Roy!” Captain Crosby poured some more of the scotch into the glasses around the galley table. “From what the CHENG tells me, it looks like we can lock onto the Interstellarerforscher and stay that way. As long as it goes in the right direction, we’ll be going in the right direction.”
“That’s right, Cap’n!” Bob Roca slapped Roy on the shoulder. “Had you not been here, Roy, we’d all have gotten lost at sea.”
“I don’t know about that, Bob,” Roy responded sheepishly. He was tired, but only physically. Emotionally, he was on a high he hadn’t felt since he was awakened from cryosleep. “But I do agree that this nav system should work. It needs a new snazzy acronym or something.”
“How about the Burbank System. We can call it BS for short?” Patel said, grinning across the top of his snifter full of alcohol. “Nav officer, how do we know where we are?”
“BS, Cap’n!” Bob Roca affirmed.
“What happens at the halfway point, though?” Zhao asked. “I mean, the probe is a flyby probe. It plans to keep on accelerating right on past Proxima and on out into deeper space. We’re going to start slowing down in a few years.”
“We’ll still be able to see the probe just fine. Its exhaust will be visible at quite a distance. We have our very own guide star,” Cindy Mastrano answered as she held up her glass. “To Dr. Roy Burbank, truly a good Samaritan.”
