The Next Continent (28 page)

Ryuichi looked over at the pilot and said calmly, “Life-support systems?”

“Nominal.”

“Communications?”

“Fully functional.”

“Can we make it back?”

“No problem. Other than the array, all systems are go.”

“What about the propulsion module test?”

“I'm afraid that's out of the question now,” said the pilot.

“Then we're screwed,” Ryuichi said with a sigh. “The media is going to be all over us. ‘Sixth Continent spacecraft encounters problems on maiden flight. Crew unable to cope.'”

The pilot sighed and wearily rubbed his face. Ryuichi looked through the observation port above his head.
Apple
's revolution had brought the shining blue planet into view. Earth slid past, replaced by the dark of space. At first there were only stars in sight, but then a white, delta-shaped spacecraft loomed starkly against the blackness.

It was space shuttle
Frontier
. NASA had been operating this new generation of shuttles since 2018. The “supershuttle” had a smaller payload than its predecessors—ten tons—because the design had been optimized for manned flight.
Frontier
could carry a crew of nine, two more than the original shuttles.

TGT had no experience with manned flight, and
Apple 3
's launch timing and orbital path were calculated to bring it close to
Frontier
. In the event of a problem,
Apple
could request assistance. NASA had agreed but had an ulterior motive. The mission would give the Americans their first close look at this unknown spacecraft. Now
Frontier
hung suspended, a thousand meters ahead of them, observing.

“We kill ourselves getting this far,” muttered Ryuichi, “and end up having to ask for help…” Scenes of the effort that had gotten them to this point flashed through his mind.

To say TGT's team had strained themselves over the past few months would have been putting it mildly. On top of his demanding responsibilities managing the company, Ryuichi had spent the last three months supervising the first launch crew's training. During this interval his sleep time was cut in half. And in the hours before launch, he had experienced the greatest tension and fear he had ever known. He knew better than anyone that the risk of a catastrophic failure was not zero.

Nonetheless, his efforts paled next to those of his staff. Failure was not an option for Eve's debut. Two thousand specialists from TGT and its subcontractors—triple the number usually assigned to a launch—had assembled a month beforehand to carry out round-the-clock maintenance and system verification checks. Though TGT had of course not made it public, more than a hundred personnel had collapsed from mental and physical stress, a third of them in the forty-eight hours prior to launch. The atmosphere at the space center the night before the launch was as tense as a military camp on the eve of battle.

Eventually operations would become routine. But for this launch, everyone and everything went right to the wall. Sending humans into space and bringing them home safely demanded untold amounts of effort. The blood, sweat, and tears expended by his team allowed Ryuichi to face the prelaunch photo session with a smile. Despite his instinctive fears, he was convinced the mission would be a success. Now this…

“We don't have a choice then. Better radio those guys for help.” Ryuichi sounded despondent. “Call
Frontier
, ask them to approach and do a visual inspection of the array. We couldn't shake or twist it loose, but maybe they can come up with something.”

The pilot opened a channel to
Frontier
and outlined the situation. Ryuichi was close to giving up.
Frontier
was not going to help them with its payload bay robot arm or with anything else for that matter. NASA had already stated that it would maintain a minimum distance of five hundred meters from
Apple
. A collision could cause explosive decompression. Just managing a close approach would cut into
Frontier
's precious time in orbit. NASA had agreed to help only as long as its own mission would face no additional risks. Consequently,
Frontier
's response was completely unexpected.

“Mr. Yaenami, they say they're going to provide assistance,” said the pilot.

“You're kidding,” said Ryuichi. “What else can we do?”

“Nothing. They're going to EVA over to us.”

“I don't believe it.” Ryuichi was stunned. TGT was still working on space suit development. They were in no position to conduct extravehicular activity even if they had wanted to. He signaled the pilot for silence. “
Frontier
, this is Ryuichi Yaenami. Did Johnson Space Center approve your EVA?”

“
Apple 3
,
Frontier
Commander Henderson. We're proceeding with a scheduled AMPU operational test.”

“
Frontier
, what is AMPU?” asked Ryuichi.

“Advanced Manned Propulsion Unit. Tetherless EVA.”

“So you have approval to approach?”

“No approval required,
Apple 3
. The test protocol allows us to take AMPU out to five thousand meters. Sit tight, we'll be with you shortly.”
Frontier
's commander sounded like he was planning a walk in the park. Ryuichi stared out the observation port in a daze.

In less than half an hour the shuttle loomed outside, nearly blocking the view of space.
Frontier
was now revolving in synchrony with
Apple 3
. A small oblong object separated from the shuttle. In what seemed a few seconds, it grew larger and resolved itself into an astronaut astride a slender tube, almost like a witch riding a broom. At the forward end of the tube were five gimbaled thrusters. The main motor and fuel tank were at the tube's other end.

The astronaut glided to within ten meters and gave his handlebar a slight twist. The vehicle's front and rear thrusters pulsed propellant in several directions at once. It turned side-on, like a motorcycle skidding to a stop, yet maintained its rotation relative to
Apple 3
. The simple, intuitive way the astronaut controlled his vehicle belied the complexity of the maneuver. Any movement during orbit would change the orbit itself. NASA's space scooter clearly had a sophisticated attitude control system.

The astronaut's EVA suit was also cutting-edge, a total departure from the bulky suits of the past. It had a sleek, streamlined look, accentuating the length of the astronaut's arms and legs. The pride of NASA, this hard suit required no user predecompression.

The astronaut was just outside
Apple 3
. He waved. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Flight Engineer Hardin, at your service. How about them apples?”

“That was a very impressive approach. Give us a minute and we'll roll over and show you the damage,” said Ryuichi.

“Not necessary,
Apple 3
. I'd prefer to keep clear of your thrusters. Please maintain your current attitude. I'll just do a walk around.” With that, Hardin nimbly flipped upside down and disappeared from view. The pilot put the external camera feed on the monitor.

The American darted around the capsule like a hummingbird, then dove beneath the habitat module, which was connected by a narrow waist to the propulsion unit. He whistled.

“Hello…looks like your problem is at the base of the array. The hinge is rotated and snagged. Engineers work hard to make these things snag-proof. This looks like something outside the design envelope.”

“Can you do anything?” asked Ryuichi.

“You're not bringing this back with you, right? You just need power for orbit. Okay, let's see if we can free this. One, two…three!”

Ryuichi heard a thump from beneath his feet. At the same time, the panel blocking the external camera slid smoothly out of view.

The pilot shook his head. “That was quick.”

Hardin chuckled. “Force-feedback thruster control. AMPU is rock steady. That's why
Apple
didn't kick me back.”

The American reappeared outside the observation port and nonchalantly radioed the shuttle. “
Frontier
, Hardin. Picking went smoothly. The
Apple
looks delicious.”

“Thank you, Captain,” said Henderson. “You're thirty-two seconds ahead of schedule. Synchronize and proceed to next position.”

“Roger,
Frontier
.” Hardin waved.

Suddenly the significance of this exchange hit Ryuichi. “So you guys didn't report this to Johnson?”

“EVAs are part of normal operation,” replied Henderson. “When we conduct them is up to me. Captain Hardin was, ah, previously scheduled to spend two minutes in your vicinity. And that's all he did, Mr. Yaenami.”

“You mean this was an unofficial rescue operation?”

“We use that term when crew safety is at stake. Then everyone on the ground and in orbit works as a team to solve the problem. Shall I advise Johnson that we have an emergency?”

“Of course not,” said Ryuichi with a reflexive shake of his head, though there was no video link. “We're grateful for your help.”

“No problem at all,
Apple 3
. You're welcome to forget all about it,” Henderson said casually and signed off. Hardin waved one last time and moved away.

Ryuichi and the pilot were drained. They floated about the capsule. “They completely had us. I didn't know what to say,” said the pilot.

“They knew what they were doing. This is child's play for those people. We work like our lives depend on it just to get into space. We get up here and there they are, strolling around. Whistling.” Ryuichi watched Hardin's receding form, eyes narrowed. “Those guys are the real deal.”

THE 150-INCH MONITOR
is flat white, without detail. Gradually the brightness falls to reveal a rocket lifting off amid towering plumes of white exhaust. A caption at the bottom reads:
EVE I LEO MISSION LIFTOFF
.

Cut to the interior of
Apple 3
. A lion-haired figure in a flight couch, casually dressed in sweat-shirt and jeans. Four other flight couches are occupied by test dummies: women and children. The man smiles and flashes the victory sign. The camera jiggles.

Footage from a chase plane. Eve gains altitude at a shallow angle, like an aircraft, and disappears into the distance. An insert shows a CG image of “the Mushroom” leaving the atmosphere. When Eve reaches Mach 1, the solid boosters jettison, and TROPHY kicks in for the long, smooth, air-breathing leg of the flight, taking Eve to an altitude of sixty kilometers. As the rocket climbs along the curvature of the earth, it leaves the blue of the atmosphere and enters the black of space. The first stage falls away. The second stage accelerates
Apple
into orbit.

Capsule interior. At a signal from the pilot, the passenger releases his restraint harness and floats upward. He seems startled, then breaks into a broad smile. He pantomimes a cheek-to-cheek dance with an invisible partner. The reaction seems a bit over the top.

A different interior, spacious and cylindrical and twice as wide as the passenger's outstretched arms. The caption reads
habitat module.
The man takes a foil food packet from a drawer and punctures it with a straw. He “accidentally” lets some soup spill. The droplets float, suspended. He inserts his straw into one blob of soup after another and sucks them down.

The toilet, at the far end of the compartment. The seat is formfitted for a complete seal. The man solemnly points to the two intakes—one small, one large—then to the antiseptic tissues for sterilizing the seat.

Undressing. The man changes into pajamas. He looks relaxed, as if he were back home at the end of a long day.

Sleeping accommodations. The man lowers a panel built into the wall of the compartment. A large, cloth-covered truss-frame structure unfolds like an accordion and extends to the other side of the compartment. The man walks to one end of the structure; from end-on, five hexagonal capsules containing beds are visible. The cross section looks like a honeycomb. Since everyone will sleep at the same time, the structure occupies most of the habitat module. The man floats into one of the compartments feetfirst, waves, and closes the opening with a curtain. The pilot, holding the camera, attaches an air line to each compartment. A subtitle explains that the lack of onboard convection requires the use of forced air.

After a moment the man emerges from his sleeping compartment. He stretches comically as if he's just had a good night's rest. Naturally this is not possible. The flight is only three hours.

After brushing his teeth, shaving, and tending to his mane of hair, the man changes back into sweat-shirt and jeans. The compartment has two round observation ports. The man goes to each port and looks out, quietly absorbed in the view.

Cut to external camera view. A whirlpool of white clouds—a large low-pressure cell—sprawls across a dark blue ocean. The clouds hug the edge of the pressure cell like a floating Great Wall of China. The camera pans slowly toward the arc of the solar terminator. Suddenly the view is tinted purple, a gentle neon glow. The subtitle reads
noctiluminescent clouds.
The spacecraft is moving through glowing clouds of ice crystals high above the earth's surface. The camera lingers for a long moment on the clouds and dissolves into a superimposed shot of the man's profile. His cheeks are wet with tears.