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Authors: Jim Proctor
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boots, he slipped them on and sealed them to his suit.
Crossing the room to the maneuvering pack, he inspected it. Although it was old, the controls were basically the same as any other model he had used. He had to admit, it did appear to have been well maintained. He slid one arm through a shoulder strap, and then worked his other arm into its strap. Applying some upward force, he checked their adjustment. After a few trials, he was satisfied with the fit. Pulling the waist strap tight finished the job. He lifted the pack off its stand, taking its full weight for the first time, feeling thankful for the ship’s weak gravgen. Flipping the main power switch, he checked the pack’s status. The fuel tanks were full and the battery was fully charged.
Nolan powered down the pack and walked around the room a few times, getting used to the feel of it. This was far bulkier than the packs he had used.
The captain said, “It’s heavy, but it also has more fuel capacity than newer units. You’ll need longer to brake, due to its mass, but the good news is that you have plenty of fuel to do it. Don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll be fine. When you get to your ship, take the pack with you. It’s yours, bought and paid for.”
“Wonderful,” Nolan said. “I’ll donate it to a museum when I get a chance.”
“Whatever you want, lad. Say what you will, that’s a good pack. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Those fancy new packs are made from composites grown in micro-gravity. Your pack is machined out of aluminum, chrome-moly steel, and titanium. Run into your ship with one of those new packs, and it will probably break apart, release its propellant, and send you flipping around head over heels. Crash into your ship in this pack, and you might gain entry without using the airlock, if you understand me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nolan said.
“Finish suiting up. You have fifteen minutes to the jump-off point, and it takes five minutes to vent the airlock,” the captain said.
Nolan struggled to reach his gloves, which he had foolishly dropped back into the case on the floor. He nearly fell over on his first attempt. Then, he finally managed to grab them, and soon had them on and sealed. He pulled on his helmet and locked the sealing ring around his neck. Reaching for the first tank on his belt, he opened the valve and watched the suit’s internal pressure readout. The regulator seemed to be working, though he was still in a fully pressurized ship. The real test would be when the airlock was evacuated. By then, he’d either step out and carry out his plan, or close the door and return to Caldon. There would be no second chance.
“Into the airlock, lad. You’re making me nervous, cutting things so close,” the captain said.
Nolan opened the door, stepped into the airlock, and closed it.
“Okay, lad, I’m venting the airlock. Watch your suit pressure and hit the red ‘abort’ button on the wall if you have any problems.” Nolan heard the hiss of air being sucked through a valve. His suit’s external pressure indicator showed the pressure slowly dropping. As it fell, the hissing became fainter, eventually fading away to silence. He suddenly realized he would not be able to hear the captain without his suitcomm. Switching it on, he said, “Can you hear me, Captain?”
“There you are! I’ve been calling you. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine. I forgot to turn my comm on, that’s all,” Nolan replied
“I was afraid your suit had failed. I was beginning to think I was going to have to clean you off the walls of the airlock,” the captain said.
“That wasn’t included in the deal, I suppose?”
The captain laughed. “Nope. That would definitely be an optional extra.”
“It looks like the lock is nearly vented. How long until the jump point?”
“Three minutes. Are you sure you want to do this, lad?” the captain asked.
“No, but I’m going to do it
Crossing the room to the maneuvering pack, he inspected it. Although it was old, the controls were basically the same as any other model he had used. He had to admit, it did appear to have been well maintained. He slid one arm through a shoulder strap, and then worked his other arm into its strap. Applying some upward force, he checked their adjustment. After a few trials, he was satisfied with the fit. Pulling the waist strap tight finished the job. He lifted the pack off its stand, taking its full weight for the first time, feeling thankful for the ship’s weak gravgen. Flipping the main power switch, he checked the pack’s status. The fuel tanks were full and the battery was fully charged.
Nolan powered down the pack and walked around the room a few times, getting used to the feel of it. This was far bulkier than the packs he had used.
The captain said, “It’s heavy, but it also has more fuel capacity than newer units. You’ll need longer to brake, due to its mass, but the good news is that you have plenty of fuel to do it. Don’t do anything stupid, and you’ll be fine. When you get to your ship, take the pack with you. It’s yours, bought and paid for.”
“Wonderful,” Nolan said. “I’ll donate it to a museum when I get a chance.”
“Whatever you want, lad. Say what you will, that’s a good pack. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Those fancy new packs are made from composites grown in micro-gravity. Your pack is machined out of aluminum, chrome-moly steel, and titanium. Run into your ship with one of those new packs, and it will probably break apart, release its propellant, and send you flipping around head over heels. Crash into your ship in this pack, and you might gain entry without using the airlock, if you understand me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nolan said.
“Finish suiting up. You have fifteen minutes to the jump-off point, and it takes five minutes to vent the airlock,” the captain said.
Nolan struggled to reach his gloves, which he had foolishly dropped back into the case on the floor. He nearly fell over on his first attempt. Then, he finally managed to grab them, and soon had them on and sealed. He pulled on his helmet and locked the sealing ring around his neck. Reaching for the first tank on his belt, he opened the valve and watched the suit’s internal pressure readout. The regulator seemed to be working, though he was still in a fully pressurized ship. The real test would be when the airlock was evacuated. By then, he’d either step out and carry out his plan, or close the door and return to Caldon. There would be no second chance.
“Into the airlock, lad. You’re making me nervous, cutting things so close,” the captain said.
Nolan opened the door, stepped into the airlock, and closed it.
“Okay, lad, I’m venting the airlock. Watch your suit pressure and hit the red ‘abort’ button on the wall if you have any problems.” Nolan heard the hiss of air being sucked through a valve. His suit’s external pressure indicator showed the pressure slowly dropping. As it fell, the hissing became fainter, eventually fading away to silence. He suddenly realized he would not be able to hear the captain without his suitcomm. Switching it on, he said, “Can you hear me, Captain?”
“There you are! I’ve been calling you. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine. I forgot to turn my comm on, that’s all,” Nolan replied
“I was afraid your suit had failed. I was beginning to think I was going to have to clean you off the walls of the airlock,” the captain said.
“That wasn’t included in the deal, I suppose?”
The captain laughed. “Nope. That would definitely be an optional extra.”
“It looks like the lock is nearly vented. How long until the jump point?”
“Three minutes. Are you sure you want to do this, lad?” the captain asked.
“No, but I’m going to do it
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