“OUTSIDE? REALLY?”
“That’s right. I know we didn’t plan for an EVA, and your training for this is inadequate, but—”
“No, I’m in!” Yukari jumped at the opportunity. It beat twiddling her thumbs waiting for something to happen.
Yukari removed the emergency backpack from its storage place behind the seat and checked the airtight seal on her helmet. The backpack would provide an independent source of oxygen and power for up to an hour.
Next order of business was stopping the capsule from spinning. Yukari switched attitude control to manual and grasped the stick in her right hand. “Don’t blow up…” she muttered. Watching the attitude indicator as she worked, she fired reaction thrusters to stabilize the capsule one axis at a time. The capsule handled as it had before, flawlessly.
With the capsule’s spinning under control, Yukari followed instructions from the ground to reorient the spacecraft.
“Mission control, Tampopo. The capsule is in position.”
“All right, now we want you to depressurize the cabin. Look for a handle on your right. It should have a red tag on it.”
“I have it.”
“Is your visor secured?”
“Affirmative.”
Yukari removed the tag and rotated the handle. There was no sound, but the needle on the cabin-pressure dial began to move.
“Cabin depressurizing—it’s getting cold.”
“That should pass in a moment. Why don’t you go ahead and attach your tether.”
“Roger that.”
A few minutes later, the interior of the ship was a vacuum. Yukari fired the thrusters again to compensate for the spin generated by the release of the air.
“Mission control, Tampopo. I’m preparing to open the hatch.”
“Copy that. You are on the night side of the earth and will remain there for the next twenty minutes. Make sure you’re back inside that capsule by then.”
Yukari reached up and opened the hatch. A black square like the maw of a cave loomed above her. She released her harness and pulled on the edge of the hatch with her right hand. Yukari drifted upward.
A moment later, her upper body was outside the capsule. Her eyes went immediately to what appeared to be gas leaking from the bow of the spacecraft.
“There’s something coming from the nose—” Yukari began, before realizing what it was she was seeing. It was the Milky Way, and for the first time she understood how it had earned the name.
A ruby red star glowed beside the Milky Way, and nearby was a tidy row of three brilliant stars.
“Orion…When was the last time I saw that?”
Seen from Maltide, Orion lay in the northern sky, just past the zenith, only inverted left to right from the way Yukari had grown up seeing it. The orientation of the capsule just happened to mimic the horizon near Japan, making Orion appear as Yukari remembered.
The stars were huge, brilliant—and none of them twinkled as they did on Earth. Yukari decided to test her knowledge of the constellations she had been taught. Looking from Orion to the far bank of the Milky Way, she found the twin stars Castor and Pollux that dominated Gemini. A little farther away she spotted Procyon in Canis Minor. Sirius should lie just beyond, but the bow of the ship hid it from view.
“Tampopo, this is mission control. What is your status?” Kinoshita sounded impatient.
“Oh, sorry. The stars are just so beautiful.”
“You only have fifteen minutes till dawn.”
“Roger that.” Yukari turned slowly until she was facing the tail of the ship. The engine was two meters to the aft behind the hatch, which rose from the ship like a sail. “My entire body is outside now. I’m holding on to the hatch. This feels a lot like the underwater training actually. I’m looking down at the earth—it’s pitch black. Wait, I think I see some lights. Where am I?”
“You’re over the top of the Italian peninsula. You’re about to pass to the south of Moscow, and then you’ll be over the Tian Shan Mountains.” Kinoshita stopped himself. “You need to be working on getting that floodlight turned on so you can examine the ship.”
“Roger that, I’m on it.”
Yukari switched on the light attached to her shoulder harness. The familiar surface of the capsule drifted in the circle of light.
“I don’t see any problems—Wait!”
“What is it?”
“There’s a hole on the starboard aft, just beneath the doors for the floats. It’s about ten centimeters in diameter, with jagged edges.”
“That’s pretty much what we expected. Try and get a closer look at the heat shield. Be careful not to let your suit or the tether brush up against any of the damaged areas.”
“Roger.”
Grabbing on to projections on the surface of the ship, Yukari propelled herself forward using only her arms. It looked as though she were doing a handstand, but of course she was lighter than a feather.
Yukari reached the rear of the ship. The heat shield covering the tail was composed of neat rows of tiles arranged into a curved pancake shape. At its center was a small hole, out of which protruded the orbital maneuvering system engine nozzle and its protective door. Yukari maneuvered herself to the edge of the heat shield and directed her light on the tiles—and there it was.
“I’ve located the damage to the heat shield. It’s by the OMS. There are two tiles missing, and the surrounding area is raised.”
“What does it look like underneath the tiles?”
“The honeycomb mesh is torn to bits.”
“Copy.” A short pause. “If you had the tiles, do you think you could get them back in place?”
“Negative. The base is too uneven. It’s about three centimeters higher than the surrounding surface, and there are cracks radiating from the center.” Yukari reported her observations without emotion.
The damage she was seeing meant death for her, but somehow she remained calm—the fear would come later.
“Understood,” said Kinoshita. “Go on and get back inside.” His voice betrayed no trace of emotion.