Mission: Tomorrow - eARC (16 page)

And now we return to our own planet’s orbit as high school physics teacher Jay Werkheiser’s tale explores a race to be the first to visit a Near Earth Object . . .

AROUND THE NEO
IN 80 DAYS

by Jay Werkheiser

Dark Sky Station floated lazily over the equator like a hydrogen-filled silver starfish. It drifted through the mesosphere, as high as its buoyancy could lift it, where the sky above was the color of space and the hazy glow of the troposphere hugged the curvature of the Earth below. A habitat tube ran along the keel, tracing the mile-long inflated arms. Within, Felix awaited his prey.

He sipped a bulb of coffee, intently watching through a porthole as a puffy v-shaped airship drifted closer. It kissed the base of DSS’s arm, a perfect soft docking. The clanging of airlock doors and a jumble of voices sounded from the pressure hatch a few yards away.

Soon
.

He tried to focus on the incident report on his tablet—some newb on the construction crew forgot to depressurize before suiting up and got the bends—but his mind was on the hunt. And the money it would bring.

The first man through the hatch was one of the most recognizable people on Earth—handlebar mustache, mutton chops, and unruly salt-and-pepper hair contrasting with a three-piece suit and white gloves. Phil Foggerty. Rich, eccentric, famous for being famous. “Be a good man and see to our arrangements,” Foggerty said in his faux haughty voice. “I’ll find my own way to my chamber.”

The man following him said, “Of course, sir.” As soon as Foggerty disappeared through the hatch, the man collapsed into a chair across the aisle from Felix.

Felix caught his eye. “First ascender flight?”

The man nodded. “Wasn’t bad. A little rocking, but no worse than being at sea. It’s the next flight that has me worried.” He glanced up, as though he could see the black sky through the station’s skin.

Felix suppressed a smile. “Oh, I didn’t know an orbital ascender was headed out tomorrow.” He always smiled when he lied.

The man nodded, then stretched out a hand. “John Keyes.”

“Detective Felix.”

“Detective?”

“Station this size, they need someone to keep an eye on things.”

Keyes grunted. “I suppose so.”

“So your boss is some kind of space tourist? Rich guy who wants to make a few orbits around the Earth?”

“Not quite.”

Felix could see that the story was itching to burst through Keyes’s lips, so he prodded it. “Oh? Where to, then?”

“We’re going to be the first to go to a NEO.”

“NEO?”

“Near Earth object. Some tiny asteroid making a close approach soon.”

“You’re going to land on it?”

Keyes waved his hands, erasing the thought. “Oh, no. That’s much too difficult. We’re just going to swing around it, get some close-up pictures, and return home.”

“Unmanned mission could do that faster and cheaper.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Felix knew there was more to it than adventure. There was money on the line, big money, a fool’s bet that Foggerty could be the first person to make it to a NEO and back, with a time limit that expired in less than three months. A wager that Foggerty intended to win by cheating.

And a nice chunk of change would go in Felix’s pocket if Foggerty missed the deadline. “I wish you a speedy journey, then,” he said with a smile.

Keyes headed to the hub, where the station’s five arms converged, for the preflight briefing. He and Foggerty would be passengers, not crew or mission specialists, so there wasn’t much he needed to know. He abandoned his plan to explore after the briefing; the trip to the hub had shown him that there was nothing to see but an endless tube punctuated by frequent pressure hatches.

He pressed his hand against the plastic wall. It felt like Mylar, rigid from air pressure. He ran his hand along the smooth surface, feeling the lightweight trusses supporting the tube. Same as the last compartment. And the one before that.

He slipped through the hatch to the next compartment and found three crew members sleeping in their bunks. He sealed the hatch as silently as he could and tiptoed through the compartment. There was little privacy in DSS.

Except for Foggerty, of course. The section of tube outward of his bunk stored meteorological instruments that rarely needed maintenance, affording him the closest thing to private chambers money could buy above the stratosphere.

“Everything still on schedule?” Foggerty asked.

“Indeed, sir. The ascender will be returning to DSS within the hour, then refueled and—”

“Oh? I’d assumed we’d be using the one parked outside. Save the refueling time.”

“I asked, sir. That one is still under construction,” Keyes said. “They only have one fully operational so far. Had to use it to get your extra fuel tank into orbit, and they’re already cutting their turnaround time short for you. I get the feeling they’re a bit miffed about it.”

Foggerty chuckled. “Not the first time, my man.”

“We’ll be boarding the orbital ascender at five a.m. GMT.” Keyes glanced at his phone. “That’s eleven hours from now.”

“Good show. Timing is going to be critical. Just a little late and our orbit won’t intersect the NEO’s.”

“Forgive my asking, sir, but are you sure this is safe? You’ve had minimal training, and I’ve had even less. Didn’t NASA used to spend months training their astronauts? Years, even?”

“NASA no longer exists, now does it?”

“But still—”

“Tut. These airships are much safer than rockets, no heavy acceleration to deal with or fuel tanks to explode. It’s like riding a balloon to space. Who trains for balloon rides?”

Keyes huffed, but knew further discussion was pointless. “Now there’s something I don’t understand,” he said, switching gears. “How is it we can ride a balloon to space? There’s no air!”

“But there is, a good way up anyway, just not much of it.”

Keyes frowned. “I guess I just don’t understand it.”

“Look,” Foggerty said, a devilish smile spreading from mutton chop to mutton chop, “buoyancy depends on the weight of air displaced, right? So if you make your airship bigger, you displace more air and get more buoyancy.”

Keyes nodded slowly. “That’s why they made the airship so big.”

“Biggest airship ever built, by far. Over a mile long. They had to build it up here; it would never survive the winds down in the troposphere.”

“Even so, you’ll eventually reach a point where there’s no air, and then no amount of buoyancy can help.”

“True enough. Buoyancy can only lift the ascender to about two hundred thousand feet. Then they turn on thrusters, some sort of chemical/electric hybrid, and push the rest of the way to orbit.”

“And all the way out to the near Earth asteroid.”

“Well, they use up most of their fuel just to reach orbit,” Foggerty said. “I had to pay good money to lob that refueling tanker up there. The company’s not thrilled with having to do a docking maneuver on short notice, but I spread enough money around to bring the thrill back.” His grin widened.

Keyes shook his head. He knew it was pointless to ask why Foggerty would spend more on this venture than he stood to win, and pledge the winnings to space research at that. He turned and gazed through the compartment’s porthole at the curve of the Earth below, mostly cloud-dotted ocean with a sliver of land rising over the horizon, all shrouded in the blue glow of the atmosphere. The question answered itself.

Felix had done his research long before Foggerty had arrived on the station. Foggerty was a deep sleeper, difficult to wake in the morning. Felix’s tablet chimed, alerting him that Foggerty’s phone had connected to DSS’s wireless network and that Felix’s software had cracked its security.

The data files were encrypted, of course, with coding that would take centuries to crack. But routine functions were not. Felix opened Foggerty’s clock app and disabled its alarm function. He implanted a bit of code in the phone that would send a message to mission control an hour before launch.

The new valet, Keyes, was a wild card. He’d been hired mere days ago, so Felix didn’t know his habits. He had to take some risks to keep him from foiling the plan. He lingered near the module where Keyes would spend the night, waiting for the hatch to open.

At long last, Keyes emerged.

Felix walked toward him casually and smiled. “Oh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Nature calls.”

“Hah. Well, while you’re out, how about a drink for the road?”

“Is that legal up here?”

“I’m a cop, right?”

Felix waited for Keyes to hit the head, then led him to a seldom-used science module. He looked to make sure no one was watching, then pulled the hatch shut behind him.

“Chilly in here,” Keyes said.

“Never gets used, other than some science geek checking an instrument every now and then. They don’t waste money heating more than they have to.” He tossed Keyes a bulb. “This’ll keep you warm.”

Keyes cracked the seal and sipped. “Ugh. What’s in it?”

“Whatever the engineers pulled from their still last week, with some lime juice.”
And a little something extra in yours.
Felix opened his own bulb and drank.

“So tell me, how does a guy get to be a lawman on a space station?”

“DSS isn’t in space,” Felix said, dodging the question, “and it’s not orbiting. That’s why you’re not weightless. We’re drifting in the upper atmosphere somewhere, and the countries that we fly over feel more secure with some form of legal authority aboard.”

“Yeah, but why you?”

“Long story.” Cops who blew the whistle on their superiors didn’t stay cops very long, unless they had friends in high places. Then they got shuffled out of the way. Far out of the way.

“Get much work?”

“If you mean paperwork, hell yeah.”

Keyes chuckled. “I suppose Mr. Foggerty’s little stunt kept you busy for a while.”

“You have no idea.”

“They don’t make ‘em any stranger than Foggerty, but he’s a good man.” Keyes took a long pull from his bulb. “Ever since they killed NASA, he’s been looking for ways to reinvigorate the space program.”

“This trip of his is a publicity stunt, then?”

Keyes nodded. “He stands to make a bundle, too, if he makes the deadline. Already has the money committed to R&D for more space balloons.”

“Airships,” Felix corrected automatically. “Don’t let the company boys hear you calling them balloons.”

Keyes started to speak but tripped over the words. “Woo, this stuff is wicked.” He looked at his bulb accusingly.

“That it is.”

He raised his bulb. “To becoming the first humans to see an ass . . . uh, heh, an asteroid up close.”

“Your orbit’s a cheat, you know.”

“Whadda ya mean? We’ll pass out the, uh, I mean, outside the NEO. It’s legit.”

“Barely. It’ll pass just inside your apogee as you swing by. The intention of the bet was to
go
there, not skate by on a technicality.”

“S’all legal.” Keyes’s eyes lost their focus. “Mr. Fogg checked with lawyers.”

“Bad wording, then. A cheat.”

“He’s gon’ win his bet, y’know.” Keyes swayed, took a wobbly step to the side. “Show that pompous ass . . .” He leaned against the module’s wall.

Felix pushed his guilt pangs down into his gut and buried them with enough bile that he could taste it. “I’m sorry.”

“Fer what?” Keyes’s back slid down the wall. “Gonna . . . uh . . . sit. Rest a . . .”

Felix waited for him to stop moving, then slipped out of the module and pulled the hatch shut behind him. Guilt stabbed at his conscience. Keyes seemed like a good man; he deserved better. Felix forced himself to think about the money, enough to get out of police work and set up his own business. Private investigation, maybe, or security. Somehow the vision seemed flatter than it used to.

***

It was cold.

Keyes reached for a blanket but found only smooth floor. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.

He drifted back toward sleep, but the chill nudged him closer to consciousness. Mr. Foggerty will be expecting his morning tea.

He rubbed his eyes, shielding them from the light. His head pulsed. He peeked at the glare outside his eyelids.

I’m on the space station!

Not space. Dark sky.

He fumbled for his phone and stared at the time. Jeez!

They’d be sealing the airlock any time now, if they hadn’t already. Why hadn’t anyone come to wake him?
Foggerty must be furious.

He scrambled to his feet, kicking the half-empty bulb from last night. Wicked stuff.

But he’d only had half a bulb. Nothing was that wicked. He rubbed his hazy head. Felix was long gone.

Felix.

Did he actually drug me?

No time to wonder. He composed himself and pushed the hatch open. He bounded down the endless tube, not stopping to close pressure hatches behind him. Someone shouted a curse after him, but he wasted no time looking back.

He reached the hub, swiveled, looking at the hatches leading to the five arms of DSS. Which one? Cold sweat stung under his arms.

“Looking for something?”

Keyes’s eyes snapped to the lone crewman on duty in the hub. “Uh,” he said, trying to force words past his thick tongue. Finally he managed to get out, “Space launch?”

The crewman smirked and pointed to a hatch. “Better hurry.”

Keyes stumbled through the hatch and down the tube. His hazy brain could focus on little more than opening the next hatch in line. Damn, how much further?

“Oh, it’s you,” a voice said. “What’re you doing here?” Keyes vaguely recognized the woman from yesterday’s briefing. Her silky black hair had been down then, not tucked away in a neat bun. He struggled to remember her name. Flight chief something or other.

The patch sewn to her flight suit reminded him. “Aouda.”

“What?”

“Uh, nothing. Just . . .”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“On time?” he managed to stammer.

“Barely. We’re just about to close the airlock.” She looked him over, frowned. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“Wha?”

“No time. If you’re going, you better get in there now.”