Matsuri headed to the control room, and Yukari made her way to the crew waiting room.
Yukari’s preparations began with an enema administered by Satsuki, after which she put on her space suit, tied back her hair, and fastened on her helmet. Two technicians accompanied her to a small vacuum chamber the size of a phone booth to test the airtight seals of the suit. Next they checked the sensors that monitored her temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate. The skinsuit checked out.
By the time the checks were complete, it was five o’clock in the morning. Holding her helmet under one arm, Yukari made her way to the entrance of the training facility. Satsuki led the way, and Yukari was flanked on either side by security personnel. Outside, a security Humvee waited to take her to the launchpad. Throngs of reporters lined the short path to the vehicle.
A barrage of strobe flashes greeted Yukari as she stepped out of the building.
“There she is!” cried one of the television reporters enthusiastically. “Yukari has just exited the training facility wearing a white space suit. She’s coming this way!”
“Hold that pose,” called another reporter. Yukari stopped in front of the car. “What’s going through your mind right now?” he asked.
“I just want to go out there and give it my best.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Plenty.”
“Anything you’d like to tell your parents?”
Yukari ignored the question and stepped into the Humvee.
As the door closed, the reporter addressed the camera. “Yukari is looking a little nervous this morning.”
The Humvee pulled away. Satsuki shook her head. “That gets old fast.”
“Uh-huh.”
The car sped past the VAB and followed the rails that carried the mobile launchpad to the launch site. The eastern sky was tinged a deep crimson.
A few minutes later, they were at the launchpad. The rocket still basked in the glow of the floodlights, but even so it was a dark shape against the gathering morning light. Liquid oxygen steamed from the middle of the rocket. There were no reporters in sight.
Yukari stepped out of the car and climbed a long concrete ramp. The engineering team was gathered at the top. She could see their red eyes in the reflected glare of the floodlights.
“Your chariot awaits,” said Mukai. “She’s ready to fly. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” He was clearly tired, but he forced a broad smile.
Yukari appreciated the gesture. “Thanks,” she said, grasping his hand.
Mukai blushed. “Heh, I’ll never wash this hand again.”
“It’s saying things like that that makes it so hard for you engineers to get a date.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
Chuckles rippled through the small crowd.
Yukari shook hands with each member of the team in turn, and then she and Satsuki stepped onto the launchpad elevator.
Twenty meters above the ground, Satsuki began her final pre-flight examination of Yukari. “How do you feel?” she asked.
“Never better. And don’t forget your promise.”
“What promise?”
“To keep the in-flight medical feed private.”
“Oh, right. Not to worry.”
“Well, see you when I’m back.”
“Good luck.”
Yukari walked alone down the access arm that led to the capsule. A technician opened the hatch as she approached.
“Morning,” said Yukari.
“The weather reports look good,” replied the technician.
“Fingers crossed.”
“Here we go.” The technician stood behind Yukari and lifted her by the armpits. Yukari slid feetfirst into the capsule.
The front of the capsule faced skyward, so Yukari was seated lying on her back. The seat itself had been built to fit her body perfectly from head to toe. A harness attached to her suit via cables at the shoulder, chest, sides, and knees held her firmly in place. Only her head and arms remained free.
After checking the positions of the switches that controlled the potentially dangerous pyrotechnic systems, Yukari switched on the master power.
Ventilation, on. Cabin lights, on.
“Ready to seal the hatch?” asked the technician.
“Go ahead.”
Ten centimeters above her head, the hatch closed. Yukari reached up and rotated a handle to lock it in place. There was a small porthole in the hatch—the only window on the entire spacecraft. Outside, Yukari could see part of the launchpad, the face of the technician, and sky.
Yukari gave a thumbs-up sign to the technician, who then disappeared from view.
✦ ✦ ✦
Yukari was finally alone. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the inside of the capsule. It was tight—less a spacecraft than an extension of her suit. There was an instrument panel forty centimeters from her face and beside it a small view screen. To her right was a fuse panel with rows of switches, and to her left was an assortment of manual valves. The attitude control stick was positioned at the end of her right armrest, and the emergency abort handle at the end of the left.
There was barely enough room inside the capsule to blow up a large beach ball. A full-grown man would have trouble just making it through the hatch.
Yukari had spent dozens of hours inside this capsule. She could find each and every switch with her eyes closed.
She flipped on the comm switch. “Mission control, Tampopo.”
“Hoi. We hear you loud and clear.” Matsuri’s voice bubbled through the speakers.
“Roger that, mission control. The ship’s chronometer reads five twenty-seven and twenty seconds.”
“Roger, your time checks out. Ready to begin your pre-launch check?”
“Affirmative.”
“Pyrotechnic safety switch?”
“Locked.”
“Attitude control stick?”
“Locked.”
“Emergency abort handle?
“Locked.”
As Yukari and Matsuri worked their way through the checklist, the technicians were making their final inspection of the booster. If there were no problems, the rocket would lift off at precisely eight o’clock.
✦ ✦ ✦
At 6:38 AM, Yukari and Matsuri had just finished going through the fifty-page checklist.
“How’s the countdown going?” asked Yukari. “Any problems?”
“Actually they just stopped it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“One of the gyroscopes lit up red. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with the unit, so they think it’s a sensor malfunction. We’re probably looking at a thirty-minute delay.”
“Roger that. Keep me posted.”
“Hoi.”
Problems like this happen all the time, thought Yukari. Pathfinder was delayed two hours before it finally launched too.