The Next Continent (41 page)

“What's the diameter of this so-called matrix?”

The officer hesitated. “Apparently it's roughly spherical. Diameter is eight kilometers. Roskosmos estimates there are around a thousand debris pieces at least a centimeter across, but they can't say how many are bigger than that.”

When Hibiki's next command came, his voice had a glacial calm, as if the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped.

“Tell Roskosmos we need an immediate orbital correction for 35665. If it's been in the same orbit for eighteen months, the subunit must've exploded. The base unit should still be responding to guidance commands.”

“In that case, they would've deorbited it by now. Moscow says it isn't responding, but the attitude control system is still powered up and functioning. All they can do is wait for it to run out of fuel.”

“Capcom, tell
Apple 7
to separate the core module from the stack and go to descent burn immediately.”

“They can't, Flight. Dr. Tai's already opened the side hatch. He'd have to close it, repressurize, and get everyone into the core. That'd take half an hour.”

“Tell him to fire the second stage manually. We can worry about the new orbit later. Anything's better than a collision.”

“The ignition lock is engaged. The main engine can't be fired, even manually, for at least ten minutes after the hatch is closed. It's a safety feature to give the crew time to get into their flight couches and prepare for a burn.”

“Override the safety system.”

“That can only be done from the core control panel. Dr. Tai doesn't have the training—”

“DPS, explain the override procedure to him!”

The Data Processing systems engineer leapt over his console and sprinted over to Capcom. He began giving Shinji the override instructions, trying hard to keep the panic out of his voice.

The network officer called out, “Flight, TSC just confirmed backup request for Eve XIX.”

Everyone froze. For the last few minutes, the fact that Eve XIX was on the pad and about to lift off had been driven from everyone's mind. GGS was responsible for all phases of flight except the launch itself, which was Tanegashima's primary responsibility.

“Shall we terminate the countdown?” asked the network officer. “This is no time to worry about putting the return module into orbit.”

“Don't terminate,” said Hibiki without hesitation. “Go to backup mode. Who knows, they might need an extra engine.”

The controllers' faces tightened with anxiety. The flight director had just issued a prediction.
Apple 7
might find itself adrift. But if his assessment of the situation had just gotten worse, Hibiki showed no outward sign of it.

“Whoever's not on top of something right now should start making calls.”

“To whom?” asked the PAO.

“Their next of kin.” Hibiki swiveled in his chair and looked up at the bay window of the observation booth behind him. Sennosuke Toenji was standing with both palms pressed against the glass, staring wide-eyed at the mission screens.

YAMAGIWA AND SOHYA
were both in their space suits, perspiring as they worked at the habitat module's control panel.

“Now we have to power off the attitude gyros,” said Yamagiwa. “Can you do it?”

“Gyro off…no, the power's still on. The core won't hand off.” Sohya was riffling through the operations manual with quiet desperation. Yamagiwa continued working the control panel, trying to use the module's small attitude thrusters to change the orbit, if only by a fraction. But Shinji was still struggling to manually override the main engine ignition lock. As long as he was preoccupied with that, the core would not relinquish control to the habitat module. Both men were at the limits of their patience.

“More unintended consequences. If this was
Apollo 13
we'd be able to improvise something,” muttered Sohya.

“Apollo was a toggle switch jungle. If
Apple
hadn't consolidated everything in one panel, I probably wouldn't have qualified as pilot.”

“All they had to do was give us a second control post. Now we're screwed!”

“Calm down,” said Yamagiwa, putting a hand on Sohya's shoulder. “There's nothing we can do. Better do something about her though.” He pointed to Tae, who was motionless next to one of the windows. She wasn't in her suit.

Sohya grabbed her floating suit pack and crossed over to her. “Come on, let's get this on you.”

“…I don't want to.”

“Feeling guilty?”

She stiffened. Sohya put a hand on her shoulder and turned her toward him.

“Get suited up—now!”

“But…”

“You can't help Shinji by exposing yourself to danger. What are you playing at?”

She glared at him, resentment smoldering deep in her eyes. Sohya said nothing but began assembling the suit around her—first the two halves of the torso shell, then the arm and leg tubes. He plugged in the power unit for the joints. For ease of movement, the joints were normally electroconformed to their wearer in a process that took a few minutes. There probably was no time for that, but the suit would still be pressurized. Tae angrily snatched the helmet from Sohya's hand and turned back to the window, as if searching for the invisible enemy stalking them.

“Put your helmet on,” Sohya was about to say, but decided it would be pointless. He looked at Yamagiwa. “How much longer?”

“Six minutes, maybe a bit more. Dr. Tai, what's your status?”

Shinji was as nonchalant as ever. “Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid a manual system override and main engine burn at short notice is a bit beyond me. I don't want to make a mistake and send us straight into the Pacific.”

“Shinji, don't give up! At least come back here!”

“I would if I wasn't in this suit. Can't fit through the top hatch, and there's not enough time to repressurize. I'm not giving up though. GGS just gave me another option, and it's a lot simpler.”

“What is it?”

“Turn the stack end-on to the debris cloud. Use the second stage as a shield. There's no safety lock on the attitude thrusters, so I can do that right now. Here we go—better hold on to something.”

The rest of the crew each took hold of a grip support. A few seconds later there was a jolt. White propellant gas from lateral thrusters at each end of the eighteen-meter-long stack began pushing in opposite directions. Eve's second-stage main engine moved until it was almost directly oriented toward the North Star. The thrusters continued firing in short bursts as
Apple 7
settled into its new attitude.

“I'm venting the second-stage tanks now in case they get hit. We won't be able to go to the moon, but that's all right. We wouldn't have been able to go even if I'd figured out the ignition override.”

Sohya and the others watched as a huge cloud of vapor escaped from the far end of the stack. Shinji was venting the liquid hydrogen and oxygen into space.

“Shinji, is this going to work?” Sohya wasn't sure.

His friend sounded almost cheerful. “Leave it to me. I've got the main engine, the second stage, and the descent module between me and the debris. You're even safer where you are. The main engine is coated in my cermet. A machine gun couldn't punch a hole in it.”

“But the debris has a lot more kinetic energy than a bullet—”

“The satellite is in polar orbit, heading south. We're orbiting at right angles to the equator. You guys are facing the south pole. It's the safest place to be. Besides, look at it this way. If a thousand ping-pong balls spread out in a bubble eight thousand meters across were heading for you, what're the chances you'd stop one? If we panic now, they'll have a good laugh at our expense when this is over.”

“But those ‘ping-pong balls' are tangled in a web of carbon fibers.”

“Don't be so pessimistic, Sohya. It doesn't suit you.” Shinji paused. “Remember what I said? Even blunders are valuable. Here's the proof. Whether we make it back or not, we'll be helping whoever comes after us. I don't think we need to get too worked up.”

For the next minute or so, the only sound in their headsets was Shinji's labored breathing. Then he spoke again. “I'm going to rotate her just a bit more. I want to get a view of Earth.”

The stack rolled slightly. Suddenly they heard him calling like an excited child.

“It's her! I can see her! See there, on the northern horizon? Here she comes!”

“It's Eve XIX,” said Tae. Everyone crowded around the window. Below them, Japan extended over the northern horizon and out of sight. Out of the blue haze, from the southern tip of the archipelago, a tiny column of white was climbing into the atmosphere. The column quickly toppled over toward the horizontal, growing larger and longer above the Pacific.

“It looks like a dragon!” Shinji yelled, ecstatic. “Fly! Fly faster. To the stars!”

Eve XIX surged through the atmosphere with astonishing speed, trailing its white cloud. Even the atmospheric conditions were special; the dragon kept its tail even after the first stage separation. Eve soared over the equator and rose to meet them on an immense, sharply defined pillar of steam spawned by the combustion of liquid hydrogen and oxygen.

“Don't stop! Keep going! Come
on
!”

There was a sharp
bang!
and the habitat module shuddered violently. A sheet of orange fire flashed past the window. The stack started yawing slowly.

“Shinji! Shinji!” Sohya screamed.

No warning lights lit up. No buzzers sounded. In the habitat module, everything was quiet and secure.

In the core, there was only silence.

“
SECOND-STAGE TELEMETRY
lost. Descent module nominal, core telemetry out. Habitat pressure and power normal, no signs of combustion. Life-support systems nominal.”

“Are they still in their suits? Tell them to stay suited up and stand by,” said Hibiki. He turned to the INCO officer. “The only way the debris could reach the core is through the descent module. Why is the core not responding if the descent module is undamaged?”

“The main engine was hit first. We lost telemetry from the core three one-hundredths of a second later. Maybe it was hit by secondary debris.”

“The second stage was head-on to the debris. There's no way the core could have sustained a lateral strike. The impact probably knocked out the core's instrumentation. Keep hailing Tai!”

The controllers frantically began analyzing the telemetry. The one thing no one in space or on the ground could do was visually inspect
Apple
's exterior, which forced the controllers to try to divine its condition from a jigsaw puzzle of data.

Then the network officer stood up. “Flight, Bangalore says they have a visual!”

“Bangalore?”

“Vardhana was within visual range. They had their cameras on
Apple
!”

“Tell them we're grateful. Main screen.”

The Vardhana Orbital Experimental Facility's images were beamed from India's ISTRAC satellite via the Indian space agency's Bangalore uplink facility. Vardhana was several hundred kilometers from
Apple
, but the Indians had used the station's astronomical telescope. The images coming up on the screen were sharp and detailed.

The video showed bright flashes of light from the second stage and the core module. Then the entire stack began revolving slowly. Frame-by-frame playback did not yield any additional detail. Each second of video contained thirty frames, but the flashes were visible on only two. One frame was probably an afterimage. No debris was visible; even with unlimited resolution, imaging a small object moving at close to eight kilometers a second was impossible. Still, the images told them everything they needed to know.

“That's a lateral strike,” said the Flight Dynamics officer. “That means the object was moving along a curved path, like a man rappelling down a cliff. The tether material must have snagged on the main engine. That could've swung a debris fragment into the core, like a tetherball. It would explain why the descent module was bypassed. But Dr. Tai—”