Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (73 page)

“2 g’s,” said Abby.

“Roger. Gabriel?
Feeling any better?”

“Yes, thank you.
Much.”

“Good. How we doing?”

“Everything looks
good. All engines running hot and normal. Standing by for staging.”

“Roger. Newport,
Ares
,
please convey our thanks to FLIGHT. She’s a fine ship.”

CAPCOM, “Roger,
Ares
.
Wish you could see the grin on her face.”

Jeff smiled. “Yeah. Somebody take a
picture.”

CAPCOM, “WILCO.”

Abby groaned, “2.5
g’s.” She rubbed her chest. “Oh god that hurts. I don’t think I’ve been this
flat-chested since I was ten.”

Jeff laughed.
“Another 30 seconds or so and they’ll pop back out.”

“God, I hope so.”

CAPCOM, “Ares, you’re
Go at 6 minutes. 400 miles downrange, 94 miles altitude, 16,442 feet per
second. Go for staging in 15 seconds and, uh, standby for Mode IV.”

“2.8 g’s.”

“Roger, Mode IV and
15 seconds.”

CAPCOM, “Mark. Mode
IV.”

“Oh god,” said Gabe,
“that’s a relief.”

“Yeah, 2
^nd
stage or service module, now we can make it to orbit with either.”

“3.2 g’s.”

“Newport,
Ares
,
inboard shutdown.”

CAPCOM, “Roger, we
confirm inboard shutdown.”

“Hang on,” said Abby,
“this is gonna hurt.”

“And… staging.”

Susan yelped. “Ouch!”

Abby chuckled. “Yep.
That’s worse than slamming on the brakes in Jeff’s Aston Martin.”

CAPCOM, “Roger. Copy staging.”

“And… ignition.”

CAPCOM, “Confirm
ignition. Thrust is Go. You’re looking good.”

“Confirm ignition?”
said Abby. “I swear to god, when we get home I’m gonna slap her. 0.7 g’s.”

Jeff chuckled. “Now,
be nice. She’s just doing her job. Um, Newport, we’ve got skirt sep.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
Newport, roger, skirt sep, and you are Go at 7 minutes. 531 miles downrange,
105 miles altitude, and velocity is 19,030 feet per second.”

“
Ares
, roger.”

CAPCOM, “Uh, SURGEON says y’all seem a
bit nervous. How’s everyone holding up?”

“Yeah, um, I think
we’re all doing a bit better than we were a couple minutes ago. It takes a few
minutes to get the hang of this. We all gave a great sigh of relief at Mode IV
and, uh, it’s great to be in space. Hell of a view out the window. Once we’re
in orbit, we’ll take a few snapshots and send ‘em down. How are things there in
Newport?”

CAPCOM, “Um, I think ‘elation’ would
be an appropriate word.”

Jeff chuckled. “Roger
that.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
Newport, predicted cutoff is at 10 plus 40.”

“Uh, roger, 10 plus 40. Newport, how
are we looking for intercept?”

“Yeah,
Ares
, um, at SECO,
Sundancer should be about 53 nautical miles behind you and closing at around 70
feet per second. Looks like you’ll have about a 76-minute wait. We’ll have a
better estimate following SECO and, uh, orbital verification with ground
radar.”

“Roger, sounds good.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
you’re Go at 8 minutes. 706 miles downrange, 114.2 miles altitude, and 20,341
feet per second.”

“Uh, roger. Abby?”

“Yeah, god, right on
the money. 0.8 g’s.”

“Rog. Gabe, how’s
that SECO time sound to you?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, Gabe,
wakie, wakie. SECO at 10 plus 40. That sound right?”

“Sorry, I was looking
out the window. Oh my god, what a view.”

“Yeah, but we can
sightsee later.”

“Yeah, um, let me
think for a second. Um, yes, plus or minus a second, 10:40 sounds good.”

“Okay, so about two
minutes. Everybody ready for zero g?”

“Bring it on,” said
Abby.

Gabe and Susan both
replied, “No.”

CAPCOM, “Ares, this is Newport, you’re
Go at 9 minutes. 885 miles downrange, 120.3 miles altitude, and 21,650 feet per
second.”

“Roger.”

“0.9 g’s,” said Abby.
“I could get used to this.”

Jeff smiled. “Well, get
used to it fast, it won’t last long.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Gabe?”

“Everything’s in the
green. Good to go.”

“Roger. Sue, how you
doing down there?”

“Looking forward to
parole.”

Jeff laughed. “About
another minute and a half and we’ll let you out of there.”

“I’m dying to look
out the window.”

“It’s quite a view.”

“I can only imagine.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
, Newport, you’re
Go at 10 minutes. 1,172 miles downrange, 125 miles altitude, and 23,794 feet
per second. Predicting cutoff in 40 seconds.”

“Roger.”

“1.1 g’s,” said Abby.
“Enjoy it while you’ve got it.”

Gabe groaned, “I am
so not looking forward to this.”

Jeff smiled at her.
“Eh, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You got your barf
bag handy?”

She whimpered, “Yes.”

“Oh great,” said
Abby. “We’ll have to have the upholstery cleaned when we get back.”

Gabe growled, “Shut
up.”

“Okay, knock it off,”
said Jeff. “20 seconds. Gabe?”

“Yes, looks good.”

“Abby?”

“Yeah, right in the
crosshairs.”

“Roger. 10 seconds…
5… and… shutdown. Newport,
Ares
, SECO!”

CAPCOM, “Copy SECO. 1,378 miles
downrange,129.7 miles altitude, and 25,543 feet per second. We’ve got your
orbit as 128.7 by 133.6 miles.”

“Gabe?”

“Yeah. Works for me.”

“Roger, Newport.
128.7 by 133.6.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
this is Newport, you are Go for orbit.”

“Roger, Newport, Go for orbit.” Jeff
sighed and his head drooped as he suddenly realized he was just thankful to be
alive. “Whew!”

“You okay boss?” said Abby.

“Uh, yeah. I was just thinking about
all the times I laid in bed awake at night wondering if we’d even make it this
far.”

Abby grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“Well, we did.”

“Yeah, we did.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
, Newport, booster
is safe and configured for orbital coast. Madrid acquisition at 20:09. Your
latitude’s generally going to be too low for Madrid tracking, but we should be
able to get a good radar position on this pass.”

“Uh, roger, copy.” Jeff removed his
helmet and, for a moment, just stared at it, floating in front of him. He
smiled and shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

The others followed suit, removing
their helmets and gloves, then passing them down to Susan who stuffed them into
a stowage bag and bungeed it to the aft bulkhead.

Jeff punched the quick-release on his
shoulder harness and drifted upward, grinning. “Yee haw! This is great.” He
grabbed a handhold, flipped over, and reached out to Abby and Gabe, who took
his hands. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it. We’re in space!”

They both grinned. Gabe bit her lip.
“Unbelievable.”

“And the day we met at Caltech you
thought I was a lunatic.”

“I still do.”

“Yeah, well, I probably am. Sue? Would
you like to be let out of your cage?”

“I would indeed.”

“Okay, hang on a second, let me fold
this seat up. Gabe, insertion checklist?”

“Rog. Working on it.”

Jeff folded the center seat to make
room for Susan to shimmy up into the crew compartment.

CAPCOM, “
Ares
, Newport, I have
your Delta azimuth correction and post-insertion mass when you’re ready to
copy.”

“Abby, can you get that?”

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead, Chrissie.”

CAPCOM, “Roger. Delta azimuth
correction is plus 0.23. That is, plus 0.23. Post-insertion mass is 334,622
pounds. I say again, 334,622 pounds. And we recommend P52 alignment.”

Abby jotted down the figures. “Roger,
Delta azimuth 0.23, mass 334,622, and we’ll go ahead with P52.”

CAPCOM, “Roger. And your Madrid LOS is
21:27.”

“Copy. 21:27. Gabe, you got that P52?”

“Working on it. It’ll take me a minute
or two, I have to find a couple of stars here.”

“Rog.”

Jeff reached down, grabbed Susan’s
ankle and pulled her up, feet first, then spun her around.

“Oh my god! This is unbelievable!” She
hugged him.

He nodded toward the left side of the
capsule. “Have a look out the window.”

Susan drifted over Abby, looked out
the port rendezvous window, and gasped, “Oh my god!”

“Hell of a view, isn’t it?”

“I’ve seen countless photographs of Earth
from space, but seeing it first hand? Oh, god.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
, Newport, LOS
Madrid in one minute. AOS Canberra
at 58:55, Simplex Alpha.”

Abby keyed her mic. “Roger, Newport.
58:55
and Simplex Alpha.”

Gabe crushed the barf-bag to her mouth
and… barfed.

Abby grimaced. “Eeew, that’s gross.”

Susan frowned. “Dramamine not
working?”

Gabe shook her head. “Apparently not.”

“What have you got in your stomach to
throw up?”

“Nothing. But that doesn’t mean it
doesn’t want to try. Ugh.” She barfed again. “I don’t think my stomach likes
space.”

Jeff chuckled. “Well, relax, in seven
months we’ll be on Mars, and you’ll have gravity again.”

Gabe groaned, “Oh god.”

“Yeah, alright, while Gabe is, um,
indisposed, Sue, you want to grab a camera and take a few pictures?”

“Sure.” She pulled a Nikon D4 out of a
storage locker, pointed it out the window, and snapped a few frames. “Oh god, I
can’t believe this. I’m taking pictures of Earth from a 130-mile orbit.” She
giggled. “Oh my god!”

Gabe groaned. “Oh, yuck. Uh, Abby are
those IMU torqueing angles in the DSKY?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Alright, can you give me a PROCEED?”

“Sure. You got it.”

“Okay. IMU’s aligned with REFSMMAT and
the Guidance Computer’s good to go.”

“Rog. Uh, Newport,
Ares
, P52’s
complete.”

CAPCOM, “Roger.”

#

Abby fiddled with the event timer.
“Okay, Gabe, ignition at 19. Right?”

“Yes, 1:27:19.”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Of course I’m sure.”

“Okay. We gonna end up ahead of it,
right? And static?”

“We’ll be ahead of it, but probably
opening by a few feet per second.”

“Take your word for it. Okay, standby
for 13 second orbital rendezvous burn in one minute.”

Jeff nodded. “Roger. Newport,
Ares
,
ORB in 58 seconds.”

CAPCOM, “Roger,
Ares
. We’re
showing your present altitude at 128.7 miles, and velocity of 25,549 feet per
second. Concur with your ORB. And, uh, AOS Goldstone tracking in two minutes.”

“Roger. Sue, you strapped in?”

“Yes.”

“We get everything else nailed down?”

“Yes.”

“30 seconds,” said Abby.

Jeff glanced at her. “Can you see it?”

Abby looked out the window. “Um… no,
it’s still above and behind us, I think. And I can’t see it in the mirror.
Gabe, can you see it?”

“No.”

“Okay,” said Jeff.

“15 seconds,” said Abby.

“Roger.”

“10… 5… 3, 2, 1, ignition.”

“Roger. We’ve got thrust.”

“No shit.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
, Newport, we’ve
got your ignition.”

“Roger.”

“5 seconds, 3, 2, 1, shutdown.” Abby
glanced out the window. “Holy shit!”

“What?”

“It’s right outside the goddamn
window!”

“The Sundancer?”

“Yeah! Crap! We couldn’t have missed
it by more than a 100 meters. Jesus!”

Jeff looked at Gabe and frowned.
“Gabriel!”

“What? You said to get close. And, the
closer we are to it, the less SPS fuel it will take to dock.”

“Yeah, but, Jesus!”

“What’s your problem. We’re close.”