flooded with brilliant sunlight as the doors cracked open. Rick
strained in his seat to see through the tiny window. Rusty red. The planet was
directly below his window.
“ Doors
open and locked. ” Vassily reported. You are cleared to power up.”
“Open and locked,
roger that.” Nelson said. “Bringing internal power on line now.” There was a
high-pitched whine, then a steady humming sound. Eventually, Nelson was
satisfied the power generators were functioning normally. “Internal power is
active and nominal. Releasing umbilical cables.” A series of sharp, metallic
sounds announced the cables unplugging and retracting into the shuttle bay.
Rick let out a
long breath, louder than he intended.
“We boring you,
professor?” Nelson asked, without turning in his seat.
“No, no. This is
all really interesting.” And all very, very time consuming. How could it take
so long to prepare a shuttle to drop? Either everything took incredibly long,
or Nelson was dragging things out. Rick supposed that when he flew on
commercial spaceplanes, which wasn ’ t often, the crew had
all the checks completed before he settled into his seat, so didn ’ t
see all the complicated, tedious work the pilots went through before the
glamorous part of their job started.
“Shuttle, you
have a twenty minute drop window, starting... now. You have control.”
“I have control,
roger that.” Nelson began flipping switches, and ran down a checklist with Sam,
who was in the copilot seat. APUs started and running, internal power on and
steady, umbilical lines retracted, docking clamps unlocked, blah, blah, blah.
Rick reflected that these were the sort of mundane things that went on in the
cockpit of commercial spaceplanes while passengers checked their pockets for
snacks, read books, and decided what drinks to order.
Joy brought her
children back to the cabin, clicked the viewscreen controls so that the big
screen in the parent ’ s bedroom displayed a track of the
shuttle ’ s flight path, which had just cleared the landing
bay doors. With daughter and son settled in, she went to the bridge, and took a
seat next to Gina, the ship ’s communications specialist.
Joy didn ’ t expect anything to go wrong. She was on the bridge to make
sure that if anything did go wrong, the crew put her husband ’ s
safety first.
The excitement
level for Rick kicked up a notch once they exited the shuttle bay and got clear
of the ship, when Nelson flipped the shuttle around and fired the main engines,
a maneuver intended to slow them down enough so that the shuttle would begin
falling out of orbit. And fall they did. Rick was able to see a slice of the
planet below out a side window, it kept getting closer, and closer, until the
red planet filled the window, and he could see the horizon, or the blackness of
space. Sam came over the intercom, and told Rick that they were about half an
orbit away from contact with the top of the planet ’ s thin
atmosphere, and there was nothing to worry about.
Gina spun around
in her chair. “Captain, a ship just dropped out of hyperspace, I ’ m
picking up a burst of gamma rays.”
“A ship?” There
weren ’ t supposed to be any ships in the area. “Navy?”
“ I
don’ t- wait, we ’ re getting a radio message, I ’ ll put it through. There ’ s a two second
time lag, Captain.”
The screen on
Gina ’ s console flickered, then displayed the image of a
pleasant if bland looking man, short brown hair, wearing an ordinary shirt, not
a uniform. Not Navy. He smiled. “This is the BioPharma research vessel Nightengale , I ’ m Ted Miller, captain
here. We picked up the distress call, is there anything we can do to help?”
Schroeder looked
at the newcomer suspiciously. “This is Captain Schroeder of the Universal
Transport vessel Atlas Challenger . Why didn ’ t you
respond to the distress call? The Registry doesn ’ t show any
ships in this area.” He clicked the button to mute and
strained in his seat to see through the tiny window. Rusty red. The planet was
directly below his window.
“ Doors
open and locked. ” Vassily reported. You are cleared to power up.”
“Open and locked,
roger that.” Nelson said. “Bringing internal power on line now.” There was a
high-pitched whine, then a steady humming sound. Eventually, Nelson was
satisfied the power generators were functioning normally. “Internal power is
active and nominal. Releasing umbilical cables.” A series of sharp, metallic
sounds announced the cables unplugging and retracting into the shuttle bay.
Rick let out a
long breath, louder than he intended.
“We boring you,
professor?” Nelson asked, without turning in his seat.
“No, no. This is
all really interesting.” And all very, very time consuming. How could it take
so long to prepare a shuttle to drop? Either everything took incredibly long,
or Nelson was dragging things out. Rick supposed that when he flew on
commercial spaceplanes, which wasn ’ t often, the crew had
all the checks completed before he settled into his seat, so didn ’ t
see all the complicated, tedious work the pilots went through before the
glamorous part of their job started.
“Shuttle, you
have a twenty minute drop window, starting... now. You have control.”
“I have control,
roger that.” Nelson began flipping switches, and ran down a checklist with Sam,
who was in the copilot seat. APUs started and running, internal power on and
steady, umbilical lines retracted, docking clamps unlocked, blah, blah, blah.
Rick reflected that these were the sort of mundane things that went on in the
cockpit of commercial spaceplanes while passengers checked their pockets for
snacks, read books, and decided what drinks to order.
Joy brought her
children back to the cabin, clicked the viewscreen controls so that the big
screen in the parent ’ s bedroom displayed a track of the
shuttle ’ s flight path, which had just cleared the landing
bay doors. With daughter and son settled in, she went to the bridge, and took a
seat next to Gina, the ship ’s communications specialist.
Joy didn ’ t expect anything to go wrong. She was on the bridge to make
sure that if anything did go wrong, the crew put her husband ’ s
safety first.
The excitement
level for Rick kicked up a notch once they exited the shuttle bay and got clear
of the ship, when Nelson flipped the shuttle around and fired the main engines,
a maneuver intended to slow them down enough so that the shuttle would begin
falling out of orbit. And fall they did. Rick was able to see a slice of the
planet below out a side window, it kept getting closer, and closer, until the
red planet filled the window, and he could see the horizon, or the blackness of
space. Sam came over the intercom, and told Rick that they were about half an
orbit away from contact with the top of the planet ’ s thin
atmosphere, and there was nothing to worry about.
Gina spun around
in her chair. “Captain, a ship just dropped out of hyperspace, I ’ m
picking up a burst of gamma rays.”
“A ship?” There
weren ’ t supposed to be any ships in the area. “Navy?”
“ I
don’ t- wait, we ’ re getting a radio message, I ’ ll put it through. There ’ s a two second
time lag, Captain.”
The screen on
Gina ’ s console flickered, then displayed the image of a
pleasant if bland looking man, short brown hair, wearing an ordinary shirt, not
a uniform. Not Navy. He smiled. “This is the BioPharma research vessel Nightengale , I ’ m Ted Miller, captain
here. We picked up the distress call, is there anything we can do to help?”
Schroeder looked
at the newcomer suspiciously. “This is Captain Schroeder of the Universal
Transport vessel Atlas Challenger . Why didn ’ t you
respond to the distress call? The Registry doesn ’ t show any
ships in this area.” He clicked the button to mute and
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