Orbital Maneuvers (30 page)

Lieutenant Barnes was back on the intercom.  “Susan, are you still there?”

Susan perked up, her mind now racing as to what was coming next.  “Yes, I’m right here.”

“I am not sure if this is going to work.  It should, but communications are not very reliable right now, and it may or may not go through.  If all goes well, you should have your call from home!  I have managed to set up a phone link to your parent’s house, but I did not have a chance to confirm whether or not they are home.  Hang on a second…okay, here it goes.  We have only about five minutes or so left before you’re out of range, so you will have to talk fast.”

Susan was trembling with anticipation.  “Thanks, Lieutenant, thanks so very much.” The sound of a phone ringing echoed in the silent room as they waited for someone to answer on the other end.  By the seventh ring, Susan’s hopes were falling rapidly.  She was just about to tell the Lieutenant that they must not be home when the ringing stopped halfway through the eighth ring.  Susan held her breath.

From the small panel on the wall of the space station came a timid, female voice.  “Hello?” The voice inquired, betraying a hint of a Spanish accent in the process.

Susan was confused.  The voice sounded somewhat familiar but not quite recognizable. “Mom?” She asked hesitantly, in an equally timid voice, not really believing it was her mother. 

The confusion on the terrestrial end of the line was as great as it was on the station.  “Hello?  Who is this?” This time the voice was a bit more forceful, and Susan finally associated it with a face.

“Mrs. Rodriguez?” Susan inquired.  Mrs. Rodriquez was her parent’s next-door neighbor, and she would often house-sit when Susan’s parents were out of town.  Susan thought that it was unusual that Mrs. Rodriguez would have answered the phone now, her parents should have been home.  Susan glanced nervously around the room to see everyone smiling, and watching her in anticipation of more good news.  “Mrs. Rodriquez is my parent’s neighbor,” she whispered to the group, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“Yes…this is Mrs. Rodriguez.  Who are you?” she asked, a little shaken at having been recognized, but still not able to identify the voice on the other end of the line.

Susan was feeling very uncomfortable at the moment, and she felt a twinge in her stomach.  “This is Susan Corin—” There was a gasp on the other end of the line and a string of words in Spanish that Susan did not understand.

“No!  It can’t be!  This must be some sick joke!”

“No, I am Susan Corin.  Mrs. Rodriguez, please listen to me!  I am on the space station, in orbit.  I’m connected through NORAD.” Susan’s pain was growing now, like a monster that has been stirred from its sleep and is about to strike.  There was silence on the other end of the line, as the bewildered lady assessed the information she was just given.

“Susan?  Susan, can it really be you?” The timid voice was back again.

“Yes, Mrs. Rodriguez, it really is me.”

“Oh, my God, I am so glad to hear from you, my dear.”

“Mrs. Rodriquez, I don’t have much time to talk.  Are my parents there?”

There was a long silence on the line before Mrs. Rodriguez began to speak again.  “Susan…I have been taking care of your parent’s house since they left to see your launch.” She spoke to Susan in a very soft voice.

“Yes, I know you were doing that.  They were supposed to be back the day after the launch.  Are they around?”

“Oh my dear girl, my dear girl—”

“What?!  What is it?!” Susan snapped, but she knew the answer before she heard the words from Mrs. Rodriguez.  Susan’s monster had struck once again.  One more blow to the world she knew.

Mrs. Rodriquez started to sob.  “Oh my dear girl, my dear girl, you don’t know…your parents called me the day they were going to come back to tell me that they were going to stay in Florida with your brothers, until you returned.  They wanted to take in the sights and go to Disney World.” The voice was broken up with heavy sobs, which ended in a loud burst of static before Susan could say anything.

Lieutenant Barnes’ voice flowed over the intercom with the increasing static, “Oh God, Susan, I am so sorry.  I didn’t know.  I am so, so sorry…” The static drowned out the Lieutenant’s apology, but Susan didn’t notice it, the monster inside her had already overwhelmed her.  She heard nothing but the static on the intercom and the rushing of the blood in her ears.  She felt like she did in the cargo bay as the asteroid careened over the shuttle, so vulnerable, so alone. 

“Oh, Christ!” Paul said with a new wave of disbelief spreading over him.  “How could this happen?!  Why?” He had barely two minutes of joy from discovering that his sister was alive, only to see Susan’s life explode, as his did when he thought his entire family was gone.  “Susan,” he called out, and reached out to her, but she blindly floated past him along with the others and out of the module. 

Susan saw nothing, and heard no one, as she pushed herself out of the Habitation module.  She wanted to run fast and far, to fight the pain she was feeling, like she did whenever she was hurt emotionally. 

After a very terrible argument and break up with her boyfriend in college, she donned her running shoes and ran the trails that wove through the campus grounds.  The more hurt she felt, the harder she ran, until the real physical pain in her legs and chest dominated the nonphysical pain in her heart and mind. 

She ran for miles that night and stopped only when she couldn’t cry anymore, and her legs refused to carry her another step.  Space would not give her that physical outlet, nor would the confines of the station allow her the distance she needed from everyone right now.  She floated randomly, curled up like a ball, with her knees clutched to her chest and her head tucked in.

Ivan had also called out to Susan, but she didn’t acknowledge him either.  One cannot acknowledge something one does not see or hear.  Ivan made for the hatch to follow her, but Paul held him back.

“No, Ivan, give her a few moments alone,” Paul said.  “She will have to come to terms with this on her own, before we can give her support.” Ivan resisted Paul’s hold, but then he thought about what Paul said, and remembered what Paul has gone through himself and finally relaxed.

“Maybe you are right, Paul.  We will give her some time.” Ivan moved over and looked out the hatch to see if he could see which direction Susan had gone. 

He was not sure how Susan was going to cope with this news.  She had become very fatalistic since this catastrophe unfolded, and he was very worried that this would be the final straw that would totally collapse her resolve to survive.  Slamming his hand against the hatch Ivan blurted out, “Damn it!  This is just not what she needs now!”

Alexander and Nicholas pulled Ivan back into the module.  They shared his distress and tried to put him at ease.  “She is strong, Ivan.  She will be able to deal with this.” Alexander spoke, as he handed Ivan a water container. 

Ivan took a long drink before he responded to Alexander’s observation.  “Yes, she is a strong woman, but with the premonition she had, she feels somehow responsible for not alerting the authorities about it.  As if all these deaths could have been avoided if she had sounded the alarm.  I am not sure if she will recover from this news of her family.  They were so close and she was counting on weathering out this catastrophe with them in Washington.  She is now in the same situation that Paul found himself in twelve hours ago.”

Paul took the mention of his name as an invitation to offer his advice.  “I can’t begin to tell you how much I wanted to just die when I thought there was no one left for me.  I am so happy to know that Celia is okay, but that does not minimize the pain that burns inside at the loss of my wife and children, and the rest of my family.  I don’t know what the future holds for us down there, but it is somewhat brighter knowing that there is a loved one there to share it with and I won’t be alone.  Susan…”

He paused as he thought about the conversation she had with him at his darkest moment and hoped that he might help her as she did him.  “Susan is smart,” he said, “and Alexander is right, she is strong, but she is going to need to have a reason to continue.  Everything that made her want to go back to Earth died with that last transmission.”

Paul turned to Ivan and said, “We have to give her the need to go back, she won’t do it alone.” They all nodded in agreement.

Ivan checked the time and realized that they had flown over most of North America, so engrossed were they in the drama that had just unfolded over the communication system. 

“We had better get back to the control module and check things out before something else gets out of hand,” Ivan said.

“Damn, I wanted to get a picture of the impact zone as we crossed over Alabama!  Maybe we can catch a glimpse of it before we cross out over the North Atlantic,” Paul said.  With that they all headed back to the control module, each discretely looking for Susan.

XX

Susan let herself float in a semiconscious state, completely at the mercy of whatever physical laws were guiding her motion inside the station.  She neither noticed, nor cared, where she was going. 

She did not feel the walls and bulkheads she collided with as she floated about the station.  Her mind and body were now detached from one another.  They may as well have been separated by a gulf as wide as that which separated the station from the planet below. 

While her mind played back her life in full color, in exquisite detail, she had no control of where her body went.  In reality, she was on the station, but the bumps and bruises she received in her physical surroundings did not penetrate the shell she had erected.  Mentally, she was not on the station but on the ground, in Washington, playing ball with her father and brothers.

She could feel the sun warming her skin as she waited for her turn to receive a pass of the well-worn football from her dad.  She could see the gentle breeze rustle the orange, red, and yellow maple leaves that decorated the lawn on this crisp autumn afternoon, and smell the delicious cinnamon aroma escaping from the spicy apple pie her mother was baking in the kitchen. 

The air currents and the randomness of her collisions with the walls brought her through the Destiny module and into Node 2, where she eventually stayed, gently bobbing about the compartment.  There, she relived her life from her earliest, dimmest memories of childhood, to the launch into space and brush with the asteroid.  The movie she viewed could be seen only by her, and now only remembered by her. 

As time passed, slowly the shell of her memories began to dissolve and the harsh reality of life blazed in through the cracks.  She could not keep the truth she knew at bay; she had to deal with it.  Susan understood that and stopped fighting to keep the real world out.  Eventually she became aware of the usual sounds the station made. 

She could feel her body, still rolled up in a ball and sore from the tensed muscles.  Slowly she opened her eyes to see where she was, but nothing was in focus because of all the tears that clung to her eyes and lashes.  She wiped her eyes dry on her sleeve and tried to focus on the sign above the hatch she found herself facing.  Kibo, it read.  Susan felt a flush of warmth flow over her body, and she straightened out her legs to push herself through the hatch, which she unconsciously closed behind her.

Susan felt numb all over.  She was still in shock about the news she had received and wasn’t feeling much of anything at the moment.  Upon entering the module, she felt the same sensation she did the last time she entered it, an appealing, calming effect that seemed to take a bit of the edge off the way she was feeling. 

She floated over to the tomato tree to see if it were still there for her, and it was.  The little tree still shimmered in the spotlights and occasionally shook with a vibration that reverberated throughout the compartment as a pump, or motor, started or stopped. 

Susan floated in front of the tree, which blurred in her vision as she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes again.  She did not resist the grief that was trying to escape, the upwelling of emotion that needed to be released.  Reaching for a towel that Jerry had tied to a locker door handle hours before, she buried her face in it and shook with deep sobs for all that she had lost, and for all the suffering that had been, and will be felt on Earth.

Upon entering the command module, Ivan quickly went through a status check on the station, which indicated that all systems were functioning normally.  He was especially concerned with the output from the solar arrays. 

If their output were to drop, it would probably indicate damage by debris striking the panels.  If this were to reach the point where they could not charge the batteries, then their pass behind Earth would become very dangerous.  The station would lose all its control systems without the battery backup, which would mean that guidance and environmental controls would not function.  This could cause the station to start tumbling, or drifting off course, making it more difficult to align the arrays once they were back in the sun again. 

They would also see the internal temperature begin to drop, as there would be no power for the heating system.  Fortunately, for this orbit at least, the power from the panels was at one hundred percent. 

But, Ivan’s concentration was not at one hundred percent.  He kept listening for some sign from Susan that she was on her way to the module.  He cursed himself for allowing these thoughts to break his concentration, and he refocused his efforts on making sure everything was running normally on the station: that had to be his first priority now.

Paul, with Alexander and Nicholas beside him, scanned the atmosphere behind them, trying to track the dust cloud’s progression.  These clouds were making their way over the North Atlantic, and the radar returns indicated that the dust clouds were already moving into the higher northern latitudes. 

Paul set the system to scan forward of their flight path and to record the readings at five minute intervals.  This would allow them the opportunity to view the visual data of the dust cloud’s movement at their convenience, something he should have set up before they passed over the southern part of the United States.

Ivan looked up at Paul and pointed to the display.  “How does it look?” he asked.

“Not good.  I didn’t get much of a return, but what it did show is that the cloud has moved into the northern latitudes.  I’ll track it more closely on this next orbit.”

Alexander asked Paul and Ivan, “Is there anything we can help with?” He was feeling somewhat useless at the moment, something he disliked very much.

“No, not for me.  The computer will do all the work now,” Paul said.

Ivan looked around the room trying to think of something useful they could do, but he too had nothing either for them, or for himself to do, for that matter.  Everything was running fine under the watchful eye of the onboard computer systems, eliminating the need for any active monitoring or control at this time.  At last the radar display caught his eye.

“If you want to keep an eye on the radar scan from time-to-time that would be a help.” Ivan nodded toward the display. 

Alexander and Nicholas moved over to the console where Nicholas discussed the operation of the system with Alexander.  Having already done his time at the console, Nicholas was familiar with its operation.  He also really did not want to watch one more radarscope, anticipating finding yet another object they would have to dodge.  After he was sure Alexander was all set, he moved back over to Paul’s console and watched for a few moments until Paul left him in charge and went to check on Jerry.

Ivan left his console and floated over to Alexander to check on him.  “Any problems, comrade?” he asked.

“No.  This has a very nice user interface, which makes it very simple to work.  I am continually impressed with the level at which the user interface, on all the systems, has been designed.  It is very easy to work with…” Alexander noticed that Ivan was staring blankly into space.  “Ivan?  Are you okay?” Alexander asked.

“Oh, yes.  I am sorry.  I just drifted for a moment.  You were saying?”

“Nothing important,.” Alexander said and turned back to the display.

“No, you were saying something about the user interface.  What was it?”

“Just that it was very nicely done, that is all.” Still concentrating on the display, he added, “You are worried about Susan.  It is very obvious.”

Ivan blushed, “Well, I am concerned if she is okay.  I do not think she should be alone so long.  I mean… we should be preparing for departure in the CRV as soon as we receive word from down below.” Ivan could feel the perspiration beading up on his forehead.

Alexander continued his surveillance of the radar screen and pretended not to notice Ivan’s discomfort.  “Ivan, maybe you should see if she is okay.  You are right, and we should make sure we are all set when the time comes for us to depart.” Ivan felt relieved with Alexander’s confirmation, but Alexander was not going to let him leave just yet. 

“You really like Susan?  I think that too is very obvious.” He smiled a big smile at Ivan, whose face blushed ever redder.

“Ah, she is a very dear friend…That is all.  Why do you say that?  Just because I am concerned about her?  After all, she is the commander and a crewmember of the mission.  You should understand that.” Ivan was slowly edging toward the hatch as he spoke.

Alexander smiled even broader, flashing his large white teeth.  “Ivan, I have known you for many years!  It is not what you said, but how you said it!  You do not have to defend yourself to me, now go!”

Ivan smiled at Alexander, and made a mental note to really thank him for his insights once they were back home.  He turned and quickly left the compartment.

Susan could cry no longer.  She had no more tears to shed, and her throat was raw from screaming into the towel.  Her despair had drained her of all she had.  The sobs that wracked her body grew less frequent, as her physical fatigue grew more pronounced. 

Noting the weakness she felt throughout her body, the fleeting thought occurred to her that she probably would not be able to stand if she were on Earth.  Laughing aloud, she reminded herself that if she were on Earth she would probably not be alive now, because more than likely she would have been in Florida during the impact. 

“Maybe that would have been better,” she told herself out loud.  She still felt numb, but at least she was now aware of herself and her situation, something she was not able to do when she entered the Kibo module.

Susan floated with her eyes closed, in a fetal position, trying not to think about anything.  She listened for the rustle of leaves from the tomato tree or anything else that might allow her to steer her thoughts away from reality.  Her body quivered now and then as the last sobs left her.  She could feel the cloud of sleep descending upon her and she relaxed.  Sleep would protect her, hide her and isolate her from the terrors that lay outside of the cocoon she was constructing.  It felt so good and she gave in and let it consume her. 

As she was placing the final gossamer layer on her cocoon, the whirring noise emanating from a circulating pump that she was focusing on stopped.  A computer controlling the experiments in the module shut the pump off, obediently following its programming.  In an instant Susan’s cocoon evaporated.  She found herself wide-awake and face-to-face with the reality she so desperately wanted to avoid. 

Susan looked accusingly about the room for the source of the absent noise, debating if she would be able to return to her state of suspension, if she could restart it.  Giving up, she finally resigned herself to the fact that she would not be able to escape reality now, and she had things that needed to be done. 

Wiping her face with the towel she still clutched in her hand, she floated over to the computer display to check the time.  She did not know exactly what time she entered the module, but it looked like she had been alone for less than a half hour.

Susan toyed with the display, scrolling the mouse around the screen, pressing buttons, but not really paying attention to what she was doing.  Trying to snap out of her depression, she forced herself to pull up the station’s status display. 

Line-by-line, she read aloud the information given to her.  Everything was nominal; the station was doing what it was supposed to do. 
Or Ivan had fixed it
, she thought to herself.

Feeling a little bit more in control, she selected another screen that showed a plot of the station’s location over the Earth’s surface.  The display showed the station as being over Spain, which correlated with her estimate to how much time she had spent in Kibo. 

She vaguely remembered that they were again passing over the band of debris that had been thrown up by the impacts, but was still too numb to be concerned with it at this moment.  A flashing icon on the bottom of the display, a remnant of her mindless wandering on the computer, caught her eye and reflexively she selected it. 

The screen switched to a formal looking document titled:
Kibo MANIFEST
. 

Glancing through the document, Susan realized that it was a list of items that were brought up to Kibo on the previous shuttle mission.  She was about to clear the screen, when she glimpsed the heading:
AEROPONICS SUPPLIES
. 

Staring at the title for a few moments, Susan shook her head trying to clear her confusion.  The word was vaguely familiar, but she could not place it.  She knew she had seen or heard it before, but could not associate a meaning with it. 

Still uncertain what the list related to, she scanned down through the inventory.  As she did the word, “hydroponics” suddenly popped into her mind. 

Susan then recalled one of the seminars she attended while in training for her mission.  They were discussing food production for long-term missions in space.  Specifically, a manned mission to Mars was the topic for this seminar. 

At that seminar, she heard that aeroponics was a better alternative to the more traditional idea of hydroponics.  She remembered how aeroponics was promoted to use fewer resources and place less of a burden on the ship’s environmental systems than the hydroponics systems.  It came back to her that she was quite interested in the idea of growing crops in just an air-mist environment, without soil or a large waterbed.