Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

They find out why they lost contact with Mission Control.

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rjb

Chapter Forty-One – Carry On

It was almost an hour before they made contact again. Finally, in response to one of Wayfarer’s transmissions, they received, “Emissary, this is Mission Control, over.”

She said, “Mission Control, this is Emissary. It’s good to hear you again. What happened?”

“Mission Control is offline. This is our backup site. There was some confusion when the primary site went down, so it took a while before we got this one activated.”

Tallgrass recognized that voice, and he moved toward the communication station as Wayfarer said, “What happened? Why did they go off the air?”

“This is Mission Specialist Wayfarer, isn’t it? Is Supervisor Steel handy? Could you put him on, please?”

As Steel moved for the microphone, Tallgrass told him, “That’s Deputy Director Trueway. I recognize his voice.”

“I see,” said Steel, his eyebrows up. He took the microphone from Wayfarer and said, “Deputy Director Trueway, this is Supervisor Steel.”

There was a short hesitation, more than the small time lag caused by their distance, then Trueway said, “Of course. Tallgrass recognized my voice, didn’t he? Is he there?”

“Yes, Deputy Director. We’re all here.”

Another short pause, then, “Of course. There’s nowhere else to be, is there? My apologies, Supervisor. It’s been hectic here. And there’s the shock.” He paused, then said, “There’s been an incident at Mission Control. That’s why they’re off the air. And it took a while before we figured out what was going on and activated the backup here.”

“An incident?” said Steel.

“Yes,” said Trueway. “There was an explosion.”

Simultaneously, Steel said, “An explosion?” and Tallgrass said, “Seagrass!”

“Yes, Supervisor Steel. We haven’t fully assessed the damage yet, but it’s plain that it won’t be operational again for some time.” He paused again, and they could hear him riffling papers. Tallgrass pictured him at his desk, high above the gleaming sea. He recalled being there with Seagrass. He caught himself reaching to take the microphone and ask about his friend. Trueway came back on. “So far, I’m sorry to say, we’ve confirmed twenty dead and ten more injured.” Then he added, “Seagrass is here with me, and he wants me to assure Tallgrass that he’s okay.”

Tallgrass felt all the muscles in his body slowly relaxing while Steel said, “We’re glad to hear that. And of course saddened to hear about the others. Was it the LLL? How did they get in?”

“We’re assuming it was,” said Trueway. “As far as we know, there’s no one else who would go this far. All we can say so far is that nobody got in from the outside. And it was definitely a locally detonated bomb, and not something sent in on a rocket.”

Tallgrass said, “So it was someone who was there all along?”

Steel repeated the suggestion to Trueway, who said, “Yes, it would appear so.” Then he said, “If you could put Tallgrass on, Seagrass wants to talk to him.”

Once on, Tallgrass said, “I’m glad you’re okay. How did you manage that?”

“It happened during the hand-off. Night shift was going off duty and we were coming on. I guess they wanted to get as many people as possible. I was running about a minute late, or I would have been there. I was just signing in at the front desk.”

Tallgrass shivered at the close call, and said, “Thank goodness for your tardiness.”

Seagrass chuckled and said, “I always knew my bone-laziness would come in handy one day.” They shared a laugh, then he said, “I actually wanted to talk to you about this. I think we can figure out who did it.”

“Do you think so?” asked Tallgrass. “Well, it would have to be someone who was with the LLL before the lockdown.”

“Maybe,” said Seagrass. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and it could be someone that they got to later, and coerced somehow.”

“Right,” said Tallgrass, and they were off. In a short time they had three plausible scenarios for the investigators, one of which turned out to be correct. They found the bomber, who died in the attack, and they found the family members who had been held hostage to coerce him. They were dead, killed when they were no longer needed. The hunt for their killers was underway.

Supervisor Steel took the microphone after Tallgrass and Seagrass were finished, and had a conversation with Deputy Director Trueway. Once he was assured that there was no immediate danger to the Emissary or its mission, he was satisfied and ready to sign off and get back to routine. “Thank you Deputy Director,” he said. “Please give our condolences to the families, and our best wishes to the people recovering.”

“Yes, I certainly will, Supervisor Steel. And don’t worry about ground support. We’re here for you with communications, telemetry and plenty of calculating power. We’re working with a limited number of people right now, but we’re bringing others up to speed. You shouldn’t notice any serious changes.”

“Thank you,” said Steel. “Emissary out.”

“Mission Control out,” said Trueway.

Steel looked at his crew and said, “You heard him. We can carry on with the mission as before.”

“Good,” said Wayfarer, as Tallgrass nodded. He was thinking of his friend Seagrass, and how he’d almost lost him again.

It was Blunt who said what they were all thinking. “What if they take out this one, too? What if we lose Mission Control altogether?”

Steel said, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. There’s no sense in making problems for ourselves.”

“Yeah, but what if …” began Blunt.

“That wasn’t a suggestion, Mission Specialist Blunt,” said Steel.

“Yeah, but …” Blunt began again, then subsided, obviously unhappy.

Tallgrass said, “I wouldn’t worry about it, Blunt. I’ve been in that place, and I can tell you it’s secure. And with this, it’s going to be even more secure.”

“What about the people? What if somebody gets to one of them again?”

“They’ll be checking the people. Making sure their families are safe. Making sure nobody has a hold over any of them. Don’t worry. The only way they could do anything is if they flew an airplane into the building, or something.” He smiled around, and they chuckled. Even Blunt, if grudgingly.

“Okay,” said Steel, “so we carry on, business as usual, right?” When they acknowledged that, he said, “Besides, what are we going to do? Turn around and go back?”

That got a genuine laugh, even from Blunt, and people went back to their duties. In this part of the mission that was mostly a continuous round of systems checks. The ion drive was running constantly, and they checked its numbers periodically. Oxygen, water, batteries, fuel. All checked regularly and often, even after they checked out the first twenty, fifty or a hundred times. They all knew how important this mundane, boring work was, and none of them complained. Even Blunt was all business, most of the time.

They’d just eaten and Tallgrass was standing with Steel, talking. They had disposed of the food wrappers, and captured any bits of detritus they saw floating around. Then Wayfarer went back to the radio and Blunt went to his alcove for a nap.

Steel said, “I heard you talking to Blunt earlier, and I was wondering, why did you bring the glider?”

“Didn’t they tell you?” asked Tallgrass.

“No,” said Steel. “Of course they told me it was coming along, but not why.”

“I see,” said Tallgrass. “Okay. Well, it was my mother’s idea. You know it’s hers, right? You’ve heard the story?”

“Uh huh,” said Steel. “And read the books and seen the movies.”

“Right. I wouldn’t put too much credence in the movies.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t. It was a bit much to believe that a girl on her own like that could kill a day flier. And all those day runners.”

“Actually, that part is true,” said Tallgrass.

“Oh, really?” said Steel. “Hm. Now I really would like to meet your mother.”

“I can arrange that when we get back,” said Tallgrass. “I’d like her to meet you, too.” They nodded, then he said, “Anyway, she thought I should bring it, just in case.”

“What, as a lucky charm?”

Tallgrass laughed out loud. “My mother?” he said. “No. She thought that since it probably dropped down from space, and this thing we’re going to investigate is in space, there might be a connection. And since my mother is the smartest person I know, I didn’t have any objection.”

“Wasn’t that hard for her? I mean, that thing must be worth a lot of money.”

Tallgrass shook his head. “She doesn’t need to worry about money.” He chuckled. “The Professor wasn’t too happy about it, but she convinced him that it would be like another experiment. And she strictly forbade him to think about it getting lost.”

“Because that would mean thinking about something happening to you.”

“Exactly. She’s not superstitious, but she also doesn’t see any reason to tempt fate.”

“That makes sense to me,” said Steel. “You know, I think there’s a lot of your mother in you, Tallgrass.”

“Pah!” said Tallgrass. “I’m nothing like my mother. She’s a hundred times smarter than I am. And braver.”

“Because she trekked across the prairie on her own?”

“Yes! And took on the city. And won.”

“Whereas all you’ve done is get yourself onto a spacecraft and go out to investigate a mysterious, and possibly dangerous, object.”

Tallgrass stopped. Then he said, “That’s different. It’s nothing like what she did.”

“Maybe,” said Steel. “Whatever it is, I’ll bet she’s proud of you.”

Tallgrass ducked his head and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “She is.”

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

They lose contact with Mission Control.

Please join in the conversation. If you like this, let someone know so they can enjoy it, too.

rjb

Chapter Forty – Departure

They were one day out when Mission Control went off the air.

They spent the night on the station. Since the station was keeping the same time as Mission Control, there was no adjustment necessary. They would also be keeping the same time on the ship. During their stay on the station, they met all nine of the station’s crew. When the three came in from outside, three went out, and the other three went to bed, so Tallgrass and his mates got to have a good visit with the ones fresh off their work. Or rather, fresh out of their showers. The first thing they wanted to do when they came in was get out of their pressure suits and get clean.

“I envy you,” said Tallgrass.

They laughed, and the one called Fortune said, “Sure you do.”

“I do,” insisted Tallgrass. “This is a great project to be working on. You must have new problems to solve almost every day.”

“That’s true,” said Fortune, while his mates nodded. “The work is interesting. And satisfying, too.”

“And important,” said Tallgrass. “And something no one else has ever done before.”

“Well,” said Fortune, “this time around, anyway.”

They all nodded, thinking about their ancient ancestors, who had gone this far and beyond. All the way to Sunward, where they settled a whole new world. Tallgrass said, “That’s right. This time around. It’s still important work.”

“Okay,” said Fortune. “Sure it’s important, but not compared to what you’re doing. The only reason we’re here is because of you.”

All the station crew were nodding, and so was Blunt. Tallgrass shook his head at him, and said to Fortune, “Technically yes, but all we’re doing is going for a ride. In the ships you built.”

Fortune laughed. “Okay,” he said, “if you say so.”

All nine of the station crew were there to see them off in the morning. They strongly suggested to Mission Control that on this special day it would be appropriate to mark it with a sort of holiday. Mission Control agreed, in part because they knew it would be pointless not to. Three of the station crew escorted them over to their ship, and handed them in through the airlock. The ship wasn’t pressurized yet so they were able to all file in together.

They spent the next twelve hours pressurizing the cabin and bringing the ship’s systems online. Everything had been put through many dry runs already, so there were no surprises. At last they took off their pressure suits and put them in the airlock, to be taken away by the station crew. They had fresh, fully-serviced suits stowed on board. Then all the cables and hoses were detached and retracted, and their ship was ready to begin its independent life.

“Before we go,” said Supervisor Steel, “there is something we must do.” His square, strong hand indicated the ship. “We need a name for our new home.”

“I know,” said Blunt. “‘Avenger!’“

“That’s a nice suggestion,” said Steel. “Tallgrass?”

“I don’t know, sir. I hadn’t thought about it.” He looked around. “Um. How about ‘Intrepid?’ Or ‘Venturer?’” He shrugged, looking sheepish.

“Those are both good suggestions. Wayfarer?”

“Well sir,” she said, “we’re sort of representing the whole world, aren’t we?”

“More than sort of, Specialist Wayfarer.”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “So how about ‘Emissary?’“

“That’s a good one,” said Steel. “So we vote. Blunt?”

“I vote for ‘Avenger,’” said Blunt.

“I vote for ‘Emissary.’” said Tallgrass.

“So do I,” said Steel. “Emissary it is, then.”

“For the record,” said Wayfarer, “I would have voted for ‘Intrepid.’ But I guess I’m outvoted, aren’t I?” She looked at her supervisor. “Didn’t you have a suggestion?” she asked.

“No,” said Steel. “I’d have picked something if I had to, but I preferred to leave it up to you.”

With that, Blunt stood at the controls with his front hooves under the loops on the floor and activated the launch sequence, and Emissary accelerated away from the station on its disposable rockets. The rockets would get them out of Grasswind’s gravity well and on their way. Then they would switch to their ion drive.

A day later Blunt was badgering Tallgrass about bringing his mother’s glider. “Why?” he said. “What’s the point? It’s not good for anything, and it just takes up space. And what about the extra weight?”

“It hardly weighs anything,” said Tallgrass. “And I keep it in my sleep alcove, so any space it takes up is my space.”

“Yeah, you sleep with it, don’t you? Does it remind you of your mommy?” Blunt’s sneery smirk was as fine as ever.

Tallgrass just looked at him and said, “You’re easily bored, aren’t you?”

That’s when Mission Control went off the air. One minute Wayfarer was talking to them, and the next there was dead air. She called repeatedly, but couldn’t get them back.

Supervisor Steel told her to keep trying, and he told Tallgrass and Blunt to take their stations. Then they waited, while Wayfarer called Mission Control every minute or two. The channel was clear and the carrier was there, but no one answered her calls.

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.

Please join in the conversation. If you like this, let someone know so they can enjoy it, too.

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.