Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).
This one is longer than the last one. It gets us off the ground.
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rjb
Chapter Thirty-Nine – The Launch
Three weeks later Tallgrass was in his acceleration harness on top of a big rocket, ready to launch. During those three weeks he’d been involved in a constant blur of controlled panic, as they hurriedly compressed the final year of preparation down to less than a month. Everything was completed on time and to the agency’s strict standards. They might have felt that they needed to get it done fast, but they didn’t let themselves forget to do it right.
They dealt with the expected delays quickly and efficiently. All of their suppliers and sub-contractors were just as anxious to get there first as they were, so problems were rare and quickly overcome. The unexpected delays took a little longer. In fact, they weren’t unexpected or unanticipated. Not really. They expected the sabotage attempts to pick up their pace along with the program, so they prepared themselves for more shootings and bombings, and they weren’t disappointed.
None of the sabotage did any irreparable damage to their progress. Because the LLL had to rush their planning as well, their attempts were easier to detect and stop. The launch site was under heavy security. No one was getting in if they didn’t belong there. No aircraft were allowed to fly near the place, much less over it. All sites in the surrounding area that might have been used to launch long range attacks with rockets or mortars were secured.
Personnel, including the flight crew, were kept on site to avoid exposing them to attack on the outside. There were some complaints about that, notably from Blunt who claimed that he could take care of himself, but the rule stood. Security was just as good trying to get out as it was trying to get in, as Blunt discovered when he tried to sneak out for a night on the town. He was told that a second incident would mean his removal from the crew, to be replaced by one of the eager alternates. And no, it didn’t matter who his father was.
Everything got done on time and they were ready to go. The crew was in the capsule on top of the rocket, and the rocket was ready to be lit. Tallgrass had his mother’s glider tied down beside him. She had insisted he take it because she said she had a hunch, even though she couldn’t say specifically what about. “Just take it,” she’d said. “What can it hurt?”
Tallgrass was strapped in and Seagrass, who’d had his title changed from Mission Control Specialist to Mission Control Generalist, was at his station, connected to his friend by radio. He said, “Mission Generalist Tallgrass, this is Mission Control Generalist Seagrass, over.” When Tallgrass replied, he said, “All of my indicators are green here. You’re ready to go. This is your last chance to change your mind.”
Tallgrass laughed, perhaps a little too loudly. “Fat chance of that, Sea,” he said. “They just strapped me in here. I don’t think they’d be very happy if I asked them to come back.”
“Okay,” said Seagrass. “Don’t say I didn’t give you the opportunity.”
“I won’t,” said Tallgrass. “Just hurry up and light this thing, before the triple-L finds a way to stop us.”
“They’re not getting anywhere near you, T. The only way they can do anything now is if they have someone on the inside.”
“And what are the odds of that?” said Tallgrass.
“Slim to none,” said Seagrass, who shared his trust of his teammates.
So, with the confidence of those who know the quality of their own work, and that of their team, they waited for the launch. They weren’t overly worried about sabotage, and it was only one of ten thousand things that could go wrong anyway. They knew that something could happen and their years of preparation could be gone in an instant, but they also knew that the odds were in their favor.
They continued talking and joking quietly until, at last, the moment arrived. The planet’s rotation and the current position of the space station combined to give them the ideal time to launch, and they ignited the rocket.
There followed several minutes of noise and crushing weight and shaking and fear and exhilaration, and then they were on orbit. It was peaceful after the extremes of the launch, but it was still busy. They had to run down their checklists and make sure that everything was right. Was the capsule functioning properly? Were they on the right orbit? When all that was settled, they just had to catch up with the station and dock with it. They had about an hour of sightseeing.
Tallgrass leaned against his straps and craned to look out of one of their small observation ports. Even with all his training, the pictures and video, and the stories of those who’d been there ahead of him, seeing his planet from up here made him gasp.
Blunt was piloting the capsule. Mission Specialist Blunt was the best pilot in their crew of four. At the moment he wasn’t doing much piloting, since the flight computers were controlling the spacecraft during this phase. He would take over when they got to the station and needed his oversight for docking with it. For now though, he was as much of a passenger as the rest of them. He heard Tallgrass gasp, and said, “Quite the view, eh Runny?”
The third crew member was Supervisor Steel, a working member of the crew, but invested with the final authority. He was older than the rest of them, and by his appearance and the way he carried himself, he looked as if he merited his vested authority. In his firm but quiet voice, he said, “Mission Specialist Blunt, you will address your crewmates by their correct title.”
After Blunt acknowledged the order, Tallgrass said, “It’s all right, Supervisor Steel. We’ve known each other a long time, and Blunt has always called me Runny.”
Steel looked closely at both of them, then said, “If you say so, Mission Generalist Tallgrass. It’s just that you’re the only Plainsrunner on the crew. In the program, if you want to be exact. I want to be sure that there’s no bigotry on my crew. That’s all.”
“It’s not bigotry, sir. Don’t worry about that.” Tallgrass glanced at Blunt, who was frowning at him suspiciously. Maybe he was remembering the incident that backfired on the polo pitch. “We’ve known each other a long time,” Tallgrass continued, “and it’s just part of the way we interact.”
“All right, Tallgrass,” said Steel. “If you say so.” He looked at Blunt. “If you’ve known each other for a long time, Blunt, then you must be friends with Mission Control Generalist Seagrass, too.”
Blunt’s eyes shifted between Steel and Tallgrass, who gave him a little nod. He relaxed and said, “Yes, Supervisor. Me and Seagrass go back a long way, too.”
“I see,” said Steel. “Do you have a nickname for him, too?”
“Uh, no,” said Blunt. “Just, uh, Tallgrass.”
“Okay,” said Steel. “As long as it’s all right with Tallgrass, then I don’t have a problem with it. I’d prefer you said, ‘Runner’ rather than ‘Runny’ but I’ll leave that up to you two.”
Tallgrass and Blunt were nodding when the fourth member of the crew said, “There it is!” She was leaning forward, looking out the front window. The station was visible, and now she could pick out the big robotic assembly arm behind it, and a small part of the vessels being constructed there. “There’s our ship. Can you see it?”
Steel and Tallgrass leaned forward and put their heads between the front harnesses, and Steel said, “Yes, Mission Specialist Wayfarer. I do see it. That’s where we’ll be living for the next … well, unforeseeable, really.”
“Yes, sir.” She was excited, and even her prey eyes were alight when she turned her head to look at him. “A week out and a week back, and whatever time we need to spend there.”
“Up to a month,” said Tallgrass. “Six weeks if we ration our resources.”
Wayfarer deflated a little, and beside her Blunt said, “Way to bring us down, Run- … Runner.”
Wayfarer put a hand on Blunt’s arm and said, “No, it’s all right. The important thing is the mission. This isn’t a sightseeing vacation.”
Steel said, “Well said, Wayfarer. I don’t mind a little enthusiasm. A little sense of wonder. But you’re right. Not at the expense of the job at hand.” He looked forward again and grinned. “It looks great though, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she said, craning, trying to see more. “I can’t wait to get aboard.”
“Tomorrow,” said Tallgrass. “After …” He stopped when he noticed them all looking at him. “Right. You all know that.” There were drawbacks to knowing so much about so many things, one of which was the tendency to assume that you knew more than the people around you. Even worse was the habit of enlightening them, something that Tallgrass’s hunger for knowledge, and the urge to share it, made him prone to.
He was relieved when an alarm signaled their proximity to the station, and Blunt turned and put his hands on the controls. Beside him, Wayfarer faced her own set of controls, ready to jump in if necessary.
Blunt’s docking went as smoothly as the hundreds of simulations he’d done, with just the slightest bump to indicate contact. The docking clamps gave them more of a jolt, and they were louder, too. They waited for the seals to confirm they were tight, then for the station to open its door, then they opened theirs and crawled through. Supervisor Steel went first, followed by Blunt. At Tallgrass’s insistence, Wayfarer went next, and he went last.
They were met by three of the space station’s crew, bearing gifts and hugs and big smiles. Tallgrass knew that there were three more on board who were busy spotting for the three working outside. Normally the three who met them would be on their down shift, resting. They worked in three shifts. One was outside, working on the construction of the spacecraft. One was inside, spotting for the workers and handling the big arm. And the third shift was for rest and personal activity. This is when they would talk to people back home, or catch up on the news, and, of course, sleep. But arrivals at the station were always such a big event that they would forego all of that to make them properly welcome.
With the greeting ceremony completed, they were led into the station proper and introduced to the three working there, and by radio to the three outside. They watched them work for a few minutes on a skeletal structure that they knew would be the second ship, then they were led to another window. Out there, bright in the sunlight, was their ship, looking white and fresh. And, though Tallgrass didn’t mention it to the others, small. It was close quarters in the space station, especially now with four extra bodies, but the sphere that was to be their home for the following weeks was a lot smaller.
Here on the station, he knew, each member of the crew had their own private space. As well, there were several modules that had been joined to make the station, and each gave the illusion of being a separate space. It was possible here to go somewhere to be alone. The inside of that sphere out there was all one space, with curtains to close off their sleeping areas and the sanitation facilities. When not behind a curtain, they would all be in one room together, pretty well all within arm’s reach of one another. Something else they had on this station was a room where a person could seal themselves in and have a shower of sorts. There was no such amenity on their ship.
Tallgrass knew that under the inflated fabric of the outer hull was an inner, metal shell made of joined, curved triangles. The wide ends of the triangles met at the sphere’s equator, and the points at the poles. The multi-layered fabric would protect them from micro-meteoroids, while the metal formed a rigid foundation. The inner sphere where they would live was actually smaller than the craft appeared with its inflated outer shell. And both were dwarfed by the rocket assembly and fuel tank bolted on back. It looked small, and it looked sort of unfinished. Nothing like the smooth, polished spaceships in the books and movies he’d seen. But that didn’t matter. This spaceship was the pinnacle of his world’s achievements. And it was his spaceship. It was built for him and his three crewmates, and he would fly it with pride.
He wanted to giggle. He wanted to laugh out loud and run in a big, wide circle. But he couldn’t. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to giggle and laugh on this occasion, and there was no room to run around, even if there had been gravity. So he hung there in the air, his legs drawn up under his body and his arms bent in front of him in the classic microgravity posture, and looked very seriously at his space ship.
They would spend the rest of the day on the station, and tomorrow they would put on their pressure suits, go out the airlock, and cross over to their new home.
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