As she waited for the countdown to resume, Yukari went over the rest of the flight procedure.
Fully prepared for launch, the rocket stood twenty-one meters tall. The capsule containing Yukari was sixteen meters above the ground. The launch escape rockets were above the capsule, and below stretched the main booster, with two smaller solid rocket boosters attached to either side. All three would ignite to begin liftoff. The rocket would then slowly pick up speed as it rose and flew to the east.
For now, Yukari was responsible for making periodic reports to mission control and operating the emergency escape controls should the need arise. If it did, she would release the safety with her left hand and pull the escape lever. The first pull would separate the capsule from the main booster, the second would fire the launch escape rockets, propelling the capsule away from the launchpad. Then she would manually deploy the parachutes.
All the other controls were handled either by the onboard computer or remotely from mission control. The astronaut had no control over the firing of the boosters. Even if she wanted to, the G load during launch would be so high it would be hard to even reach the control panel.
The rocket would reach “max Q” roughly forty seconds after launch. Max Q was the point at which a rocket came under maximum aerodynamic stress. In Yukari’s case, this would occur at an altitude of approximately ten thousand meters, with the rocket traveling faster than the speed of sound.
Two minutes ten seconds into the flight, the solid rocket boosters would separate. The main booster would continue its burn, and since the rocket would be considerably lighter without the weight of the two SRBs, the g-forces would climb as it accelerated.
At this point, the launch escape rockets were no longer needed, so they would be jettisoned as well. As the rocket grew lighter, it would achieve its maximum acceleration of 9 G. This was fully three times as high as the forces experienced by the space shuttle, but Yukari’s time in the centrifuge had prepared her for it.
After six minutes eleven seconds, the main booster burn would be complete. The capsule would separate from the booster’s empty husk and begin free flight at an altitude of 185 kilometers, traveling at 7.58 kilometers per second—orbital velocity.
The orbital thrusters at the rear of the capsule would then propel it into a circular orbit at an altitude of 210 kilometers. Forty-five minutes later the thrusters would briefly fire once more. All the while the spacecraft would be feeding telemetry to mission control, supplemented by Yukari’s own observations.
The capsule would orbit the earth four times in the span of six hours. Halfway through its final orbit, the thrusters would fire a retrograde burn to break orbit. Slowly, the capsule would begin to descend, and at an altitude of approximately 130 kilometers, it would reenter the atmosphere.
During reentry, communications with the ground would be temporarily cut off. The onboard computer controlled the timing of the retrograde burn, the angle of reentry, and the attitude of the ship, but if there were a malfunction, Yukari would need to perform these manually.
When the capsule dropped below the speed of sound, the parachutes would open. The capsule would splash down at thirty-six kilometers per hour, and floats would deploy to keep the capsule above water.
The landing zone was a patch of ocean five hundred miles north of Maltide. There would be recovery helicopters and ships there waiting, but if the capsule came down off target, it could take time for them to reach the capsule. The capsule would be drifting during the search, making it difficult to find.
Yukari would be flying a nearly perfect equatorial orbit, so there was little danger of her landing somewhere she would freeze to death, barring the unlikely event of her landing on Mount Kilimanjaro or the mountains of New Guinea.
Yukari shook the thought from her head.
Don’t even think about it. Everything will be fine.
She looked at her watch. It was already seven thirty. She flicked on the comm switch. “Mission control, Tampopo. Any update on our schedule?”
“We should have something for you soon, Yukari.”
“Is it serious?”
“The gyroscope seems fine. They’re telling me there’s a problem with the sensor’s data correction.”
“We still looking at a thirty-minute delay?”
“For now.”
“Roger that.”
✦ ✦ ✦
At 8:00 AM, Yukari had been in the capsule for two and a half hours.
“Mission control, Tampopo. How’s it looking?”
“They’re discussing options now. Hang on a sec.” Two minutes passed. “Turn off main power and leave the capsule, Yukari.”
“What?”
“They’re delaying the launch until tomorrow.”
“Uh, roger that.”
✦ ✦ ✦
When Yukari stepped out of the car in front of the command center, the press was waiting.
“How do you feel, Yukari?” asked a reporter.
“This sort of thing happens,” said Yukari, her voice calm.
“Has the delay shaken your faith in the rocket?”
“Not at all. It just shows how thoroughly they’re checking things.”
✦ ✦ ✦
[ACT 4]
✦ ✦ ✦
IT WAS 7:20 AM the following morning.
A heavy metallic thud reverberated through the rocket. Yukari nodded to herself.
“Mission control, Tampopo. We have successful gantry separation.”
“Hoi. Separation successful. We’ll be performing final LOX pressurization in a moment.”
“Roger that. Good luck.”
Yukari watched the clock on the control panel as she listened for the sound of the pressurization equipment outside the rocket. Forty minutes to go. Once the flight started, it would all be over in six hours—not much longer than it would take her to fly back to Japan. Yukari would have plenty to brag about when she got back; she would have literally traveled the four corners of the globe.
That she had stumbled into being an astronaut did bother her, however. Would she continue the lies she had told the media? Not that there wasn’t some truth to it—who hadn’t thought about flying on a space shuttle at least once when they were a kid?
Yukari glanced at the control panel. It was an ugly thing— whoever designed it hadn’t put much effort into the aesthetics. But if it got her back in one piece, she was willing to forgive it its flaws.
In a few years, maybe she would even come back to visit the islands, slip into the capsule, and wax nostalgic about all she had gone through in it—if she even still fit inside, which was doubtful.
Yukari couldn’t control her height, but she was determined to not put on any weight. They had promised to let her keep her suit after the mission, but if she put on even a couple of kilograms, it would no longer fit. Not that she had any intention of wearing it in public.
But what if they made her go on television in the suit? Yukari didn’t care for that idea at all. She could stand going to elementary schools, giving speeches about how beautiful the earth is, and being swarmed by little kids just as Mamoru Mohri, the first Japanese astronaut, had been. Yukari wondered what the earth would look like from space. Was it really that beautiful? They said going into space changed your perspective on life forever. In one hour, Yukari would see for herself.
She was starting to get excited. This was really happening. Yukari gave a shout of joy.
Matsuri came over the speakers. “Hoi. We’ve hit a little problem, Yukari.”
Yukari came crashing back to reality. “What is it?”
“It looks like a liquid oxygen leak. One of the two sensors is showing a problem. They don’t think it’s anything serious, but they want you to power down the capsule and get out.”
“Hang on. If it’s not serious, why can’t I just wait it out in here?”
“Director Nasuda wants to play it safe, just in case. Come on down.”
“If I leave now, they’ll have to restart the countdown, we’ll miss the launch window, and the whole thing will be delayed. Again.”
“The delay is already official. The fun will have to wait for tomorrow.”
Yukari started to object, but she knew it was pointless.
“Roger that.”