CHAPTER 29:
Out of Hell, and into . . . Hell
USSF Media Office @JBSpaceNews
The data from Colonel Shepard’s flight on Bat will be essential to understanding how to improve gee tolerance in all of our astronauts. When we combine that with the new drive systems that allowed Bat to rendezvous with Percheron in just over six days, we will soon be able to extend humanity’s reach to the asteroids and other planets.
ChirpChat, October 2043
The first order of business was to change out the air supply for both the MILES and the portable pack he used with the skinsuit. Next was to see what had happened to the seal on his helmet when he hit the bulkhead. The Bat’s cockpit was independently sealed from the cargo spaces, so he could pressurize it and get out of the MILES.
Being out of the MILES also gave him the opportunity to check his skinsuit and helmet. He could see that the flexible seal which mated with the neck ring had gotten pinched between ring and helmet. The gasket was cut two-thirds of the way through. He would patch it with sealant goo for now, a standard repair for anything short of large gaping holes. The goo was thick and flexible, and maintained those properties in both air and vacuum, making it suitable for patching to pressure suits and spacecraft hulls. It would suffice until he could dig into Percheron’s stores for a replacement neck ring. Hopefully, once he got the cargo pod mated to Percheron, he wouldn’t have to transit through any low-pressure zones.
It was also a good time to take a rest break to eat, and drink. He pulled out a drinking bulb containing powdered flavoring solution. All he needed to do was to add water from a dispenser, such as the ones in the MILES and in his compartment on the Bat. The military called the resulting drink “bug juice,” but astronauts called it “tang” even though it wasn’t the original trademarked orange drink made popular by the Apollo program. He also decided to splurge on a freeze-dried meal since he’d eaten ration bars for the past six days. The prepackaged, self-heating meal was quite a bit better than the survival rations he’d trained on, but he couldn’t use the heater on the Bat. The heater pack generated hydrogen gas; Percheron would have a compartment in the galley with a recapture system for volatile gases, but there was nothing like that in the limited confines of the survival bubble.
Ah well, cold spaghetti with meat sauce is still better than flavored paste, he thought. Plus, I have hot sauce, and that helps everything.
He contemplated taking a nap before returning to Percheron. His last excursion had taken six hours and he was still a bit tired from the high acceleration of the outboard journey. Things were bad in the Percheron but would they be that much worse if he took a nap?
Logic said no, but Glenn’s conscience said yes. He tried to suit back up, and found himself fumbling with catches and fasteners.
Sleep it is!
Six hours, another meal, a wipe-down with a moist towelette later, he suited back up, pumped down the compartment, and prepared to dock the Bat with the cargo bay. The process went better than his first spacewalk. He attached a tether and remote-controlled winch to the latch point in the center of the docking attachment on the cargo pod. He then fired his maneuvering jets and traveled over to Percheron, dragging the tether to a latch point on the opposite side of the cargo bay from the open hatch. Next, he went back to Bat, released the attachments between cargo and drive sections, and connected a reciprocal tether between cargo pod and the massive drive. The two opposing systems would serve to dampen any sudden moves, and allow him to control the velocity of the cargo pod so that it didn’t crash in the Percheron. Finally, Glenn positioned himself just inside the entrance to the cargo bay and started the system to slowly winch the cargo pod between the Bat and Percheron’s cargo bay.
It took almost an hour to close the two-point-five-kilometer distance between Bat and Percheron. When the pod was ten meters out, he slowed winch speed; at two meters, he stopped it entirely. The pod was larger than the bay, so it needed to be precisely aligned to attach to the external hull of Percheron and seal off the open cargo bay. In its current position, the docking mechanism was just off-center and slightly askew from the cargo bay opening. The final positioning would have to be done with his own muscle power; fortunately, he had a bionic assist.
He climbed up the tether and onto the hull of Percheron so that he could use rungs set into the side of the cargo pod to rotate it to align it with the cargo bay opening. He ran additional tethers from the pod through rings set at multiple points around the inside rim of the bay opening. That way he could do the final adjustment from a single location inside the bay.
He climbed back into the bay, braced himself, and made light tugs on the tethers to gently move the pod into contact with the opening. One side was still moving too fast, and he reached his left hand into the rapidly closing gap. A flesh-and-blood hand would have been crushed, but he was able to exert enough force with just his fingers to prevent a collision that would have damaged the seal between cargo pod and bay. It took nearly an hour to finally line it all up and complete the attachments.
Finally, it was done and the seal appeared to be good enough to repressurize the cargo bay. Glenn had thought that the hardest part of his mission was over when he endured the high acceleration of the trip to Percheron. He now knew otherwise—he’d worked harder today than he had in quite some time. Frankly, he would be exhausted if he had a full flesh and blood body. His bionic legs and arm had made the difference both in strength and endurance. All of this would go into a report to Space Force, NASA, and MarsX. They needed to get bionically enhanced individuals out into space—he’d just proven that there were some jobs that needed abilities beyond the capabilities of a non-enhanced human.
Having that happen would be reward enough. Still, the job wasn’t anywhere near over.
Much as it pained him to admit it, he knew that before he went back into Percheron, he was going to have to find a way to make the ship’s crew aware of his presence. They were likely still locked in their quarters, since none of the reports said that she’d rescinded the isolation orders. The strange encounter with Yvette—supposedly the “most rational” of the crew—meant he couldn’t predict their response to his sudden presence on the ship.
The relay he’d repaired on Percheron’s bridge gave him a local control interface only. While present on the bridge, he could operate Percheron’s maneuvering thrusters and engines much the same way as he had those on the Bat. Once he left the bridge, the distance was too far for the control linkage. On the other hand, the repeater in the MILES gave him access to internal communications.
“This is Glenn Shepard in the cargo ship Bat, C-21-MX, hailing Percheron. Percheron, do you read?” He’d attempted communication when he’d first arrived, but it hadn’t been answered. This time Glenn was sending his message through all of the internal comm channels. He repeated the message a few more times and then added, “Percheron, this is Shepard. I’ve brought food, water, fuel, and medical supplies. My ship is docked to your cargo bay. I’m going to be coming inside soon, but I need to stay in my isolation suit for now. Don’t be afraid; I’ve come to help.”
There was no response for several minutes and then Yvette’s weak voice came over the comm. “Glenn Shepard? What are you doing here?”
Well, that certainly did not sound like the Yvette he’d encountered in the hallway. Maybe she was a little more rational now. Glenn checked his intercom link and discovered that she was talking from the ship’s medical bay. He switched his own comm from general broadcast to her intercom station. “Yvette? Yes, it’s me Glenn. I brought a cargo ship with supplies and medicine to help you.”
“I didn’t mean for someone to come out here! I just wanted advice.” Yvette’s voice turned hard. Glenn supposed it meant she wasn’t entirely out of her mood swings, but he could work with that.
“Space Force sent me out here. A crew member was required for final course corrections and docking. You also need a doctor unaffected by whatever has happened on your ship.” That wasn’t strictly true, since Space Force didn’t send him, although it could be argued that General Boatright had done exactly that. The latter statement about needing an unaffected doctor was certainly true. “I’ll be coming in through Cargo Bay One. Make sure people are aware that I’m coming. We should probably get them together and check everybody out.”
“No! You can’t come in that way. The bay door was blown and it’s open to vacuum.” Yvette’s voice was back to normal. Showing concern and awareness of current conditions was good.
“That’s not a problem. I’ve docked the cargo module to the outside of Bay One. It’s sealed tight, and we can restore atmosphere to the bay to make it easier to transfer the cargo.” While that was true, Glenn was still not sure about mixing atmospheres between Bat and Percheron. For now, he’d repressurize with argon—he’d brought sufficient for this purpose and for isolating and cleaning compartments in Percheron if needed. As long as he had pressure, he wouldn’t need the MILES, just his skinsuit.
“Oh, okay. Let me get the captain, and we will meet you at the airlock for Cargo Bay One.”
“Captain LeBlanc?” Glenn wondered to himself who she was referring to. General Boatright had told him that Captain LeBlanc died from liver failure while he was en route. The first officer, Major Dvorak, should have stepped in to fill the captain’s duties, but Yvette had pulled rank.
“No, Major Dvorak. Commander LeBlanc didn’t make it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Okay, fifteen minutes?”
“Sure, that will do.”
Glenn had not gotten out of his skinsuit, so there was little to do in preparation but grab his helmet, depressurize the cockpit, and go. He still needed to pressurize the cargo bay with argon gas, so that he could pass easily between Bat and Percheron without having to get into the MILES.
He considered other supplies. Did he need self-defense? Tools? Medicines?
He settled for a large flashlight that could be used as a club, and a small backpack with medical supplies—essentially an overgrown first aid kit. He would also take the portable life support pack and maintain isolation from the crew.
He opened a valve on one of the argon tanks and watched the indicators. He would match pressure between Bat, the bay and Percheron. That would help maintain isolation and hopefully keep the ship’s air out of Bat. For that matter, unlike the previous time, he didn’t intend to open his helmet at all since he would be around people who might be carriers for the unknown disease.
It was still cold inside the bay. Even though the atmosphere was not breathable, it was preferable to vacuum since it would hold sufficient heat that his sweat didn’t freeze. The automated airlock controls were back online, so he could have simply opened the doors, since there was equal pressure on both sides, but it was safer to continue to use the standard cycle.
The indicators turned green, telling him it was safe to open the inner door into the ship.