Three

 

                             Three

 

     In silent majesty the ship approached another planet. The offspring, battered by its experiences, now returned home for comfort and healing. The familiar blue and green of water and earth glinted a welcome to the weary traveler as its mammoth engines slowly decelerated. The craft paused, as though reacquainting itself with its own family, before nuzzling into orbit above the mother world.

 

     The graceful gliding of the ship belied the activity within where each crewmember was busy at their own task. Birch knew he had made the right decision. This was their chance to live and even now he could see in the faces of his crew that they knew it too. Each worked fervently at their own station to overcome whatever fate or providence might have planned for them. Despair had settled over them after Mars, but now being here and seeing home so close made hope real again. Mars had looked dead with its barren, lifeless rock; Earth looked alive. From here nothing had changed.

 

     DeSante adjusted the radio and began the same ritual he had performed at Mars. This was it, the first attempt to communicate with their last hope. The room fell into an uneasy stillness, each person seemingly engaged in their own work, and yet distracted and listening for any response.

 

   "Base One this is Hypnos III, code 41993 Alpha Phase, respond, over." A faint hiss was the only answer. Birch shifted uneasily in his chair and, trying to ignore DeSante's droning voice, squinted at the screen before him. The readouts for the ship were pretty bad. Jane had been right about one thing, it looked like the only thing that could save them would be some kind of outside response. The heat shield was pretty badly compromised and it didn’t look like it was even close to being able to sustain a reentry attempt. They’d burn up in seconds. They needed an answer from earth or an answer to prayer, if there was any difference between the two.

 

     “Hypnos III calling Base One, code 41993 Alpha Phase. Respond please.” The hiss of dead radio waves remained the only answer. DeSante shrugged dejectedly, adjusted a few knobs, and began again. The others had now stopped all pretense at their own work and watched intently as the process continued. The tension in the command module weighed like ballast as their hope sank. “Base One, respond please.” DeSante’s voice had more than a hint of desperation as he turned to his commander.

 

     “Have you tried all possible frequencies?” Birch asked. He knew the answer before the young man nodded his assent. He sighed.

 

     “Jane,” he turned his attention to his second-in-command and was met with the same scornful look he had expected. But there was also something deeper, a more striking look of dejection and despair than any words could have expressed. He could see that she knew she was right. She had finally proven her point about him, but even she had recognized that this victory had only come at the final and utter defeat of everything, even their own lives. “Jane,” he continued hollowly, “send out another probe. We need some idea of what we’re working with down there. I want you and Lauren both to monitor it. Pay particular attention to life sustainability. We may need her expertise yet. See what’s happened to atmospheric and bio support structures down there. I want a contingency plan for whatever situation you find. Who knows what they’ve done to themselves.” He turned his attention again to DeSante, “Suit up, we’ve got some work to do outside.”

 

     As Birch and the Lieutenant trudged toward the airlock the sound of the launching probe echoed through the ship. These were all desperation measures and Birch wasn’t quite sure how much of this was intelligent thought put to finding an impossible solution, and how much was just keeping them all busy until an inevitable end. He didn’t like to think about it. He had always believed that there were answers, however unrealistic they were. Whatever was going to happen he couldn’t imagine himself sitting on the deck listening to Abide With Me while the ship went down. He was going to fight this, kicking and screaming all the way.

 

     In the air-lock Birch and DeSante had gone mechanically through the routine of putting on their suits, now they stood for a moment before pushing the door release. Finally they were ready. The air hissed as it was met in the cold embrace of space. The door lifted slowly and the sunlight from without streamed through, rising with the level of the door like a tide of hope flooding the compartment. The only sound was that of their own breathing confirming their own tenuous existence. The door was open and Birch squinted as he looked out into the blackness, then back to DeSante. Gesturing for him to follow he started down to the bottom of the ship. 

 

     For the next few minutes the two men struggled awkwardly with their own weightless bodies, trying to reach their objective. Even the advantages of propulsion packs and hours of training hadn’t made this anything more than a tolerable experience, and by the time they had reached the underside of the ship both Birch and DeSante’s faces were wet with perspiration. Birch struggled to see through the sweat dripping from his brow.

 

     DeSante let out a low whistle, breaking the silence. “That’s not good,” he murmured. Birch blinked his eyes clear and saw that DeSante had understated it. It was terrible. At least a third of the heat shield had gone. Some parts were missing in great clumps, other areas had perhaps only fractions of tiles missing here and there, but even these smallest breaches represented certain disaster. “What can we do?” The young Lieutenant’s voice almost pleaded for hope.

 

     Birch sighed as he surveyed the damage. “So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear.” He shook his head and turned again to DeSante. “Pass me a spot joiner and some chewing gum, we’ve got to make this the mother of all fix-up jobs. It’s not going to be easy but there’s still a chance we can do it. I think we’ll have enough backup tiles, but no one’s ever tried to patch anything this bad. We’ll have to save what we can out here and try to fill in the gaps that are left. Without ground and tech support we’re not likely to find every flaw though. The secondary shield will just have to deflect some of the heat and the rest will all be down to the flying. If I can take us in at just the right trajectory and hit the sweet spot then we can make it.”

 

     DeSante looked doubtfully at his commander, “That doesn’t sound like much of a chance. The secondary shield’s only designed to help with maybe one or two small gaps- this is just too big. Even if we could make a half-decent heat shield there wouldn’t be any room for error on the reentry. It would take a perfect flight, and even that might not be enough.”

 

     Birch nodded, “I didn’t say it was a great chance, just a chance. I like that a whole lot better than no chance at all. Pass me that spot joiner and let’s see what we can do.” 

 

     The two men began their painstaking task, searching for flaws, repairing some tiles, and removing the remnants of others to put new ones in their place. It all had to be perfect to withstand the fiery judgment of reentry, where any faults would be exposed and punished in the final destruction of them all. And so they looked, painfully aware that no mistake could be made. This had always been the greatest danger in space travel, leaving and coming back, the rest in between was only dangerous. The fact that they could repair the shield at all was an improvement. Once any damage at all had meant a certain death sentence, now it was only probable. More interchangeable parts and improvements in heat resistant sealants had made repairs possible. The inclusion of a secondary heat shield also improved the chances of survival, but these types of reentries were never easy and were only undertaken in extreme emergency. The Agency would usually rather remove the crew and scrap the ship than risk a repaired reentry if they were given any choice. There was no choice now so they had to make sure they got it right. There would be no ground support, no base computer checks, and no backup plan- all they could do is seal it up as best they could and see what would happen.

 

     “Major,” Jane’s voice sounded through his headset and distracted Birch’s attention, “we have something to report on the probe.”

 

     “Good,” Birch continued to inspect the tiles, “go ahead.”

                                   

     “Initial reports came back to indicate improved atmospheric content from when we left,” Birch paused from his inspection in surprise, “air quality at low levels for foreign agents and good reports on water vapor purity. That’s all we got though, the probe cut off with some kind of malfunction. Do we send out another one?”

 

     “Yes,” Birch started to look at the tiles again, “try another location though. We need to get a good idea of what the surface conditions are and that can help us pick a good area to land. It sounds good so far but we need to know more. Keep me informed.”         

 

     “Okay,” Jane’s radio clicked off. Birch thought for a moment about what he’d heard. The news was good, but he tried not to hope again. He knew the return of hope meant the return of fear and since all of this was built on an impossible reentry it was a poor exchange. There was no real reason for hope. Earth might still be habitable, but if they couldn’t get down there it all meant nothing. Better to work in reality. There was a chance and that was what he worked toward, but there was no hope.

                                

      The work continued tediously for a time until finally Birch looked at his oxygen gauge. “We’re a little on the low side DeSante, let’s head back. It’ll take a few days to finish this anyway, and I want to run some simulations on what we’re working with here.” DeSante nodded and the two men started back to the airlock. As they returned Jane’s voice crackled again in Birch’s headset.

 

     “We’ve lost the second probe Major, same cause. We sent it to another area but we got pretty much the same information as last time. It cut out at the same point as the last one. Do we send another?”

 

     Birch grunted, “No, you don’t just lose two probes like that. It looks like there’s more to this planet than we first thought.”

Reviews

[Lady Monarch]

Very intriguing, I enjoyed the chapter. My dad worked for NASA throughout his whole life and I find it hard to read anything about problems with a space craft of any kind but I trust you will be throwing in some twists and surprises here and there? You're doing a very good job writing it. The only flaws that caught my attention were within the dialogue. Try saying the statement out loud to yourself to see if what you wrote would read the way it would be said (I hope that makes sense).

[TL Boehm]

such a tenuous situation - and I am intrigued that they are getting no response. My dad is retired military and in one of his travels - he was given a heat resistant tile from the shuttle...amazing how light that tile was....and this thought brings me back to your story. Well done.

[Lee*]

sfharper- Thank you for your thoughts on my chapter. I'm always looking for improvements.

This book has been in the works for quite a while and chapter three, rather prophetically, was written a few years before the Columbia tragedy. I considered the implications of this on the story but decided that the basic system of tiles would likely remain with some improvements. It's the same with airline accidents; they cause changes, but the technology generally remains the same. The tile system is the only viable thing that works right now and the cryogenic ship isn't supposed to be from a time so distant that other more fantastic systems had been developed. There are some significant improvements to the tiles in the story. Unlike present technology these tiles can be worked on individually and can be replaced and repaired in space.

The spot joiner is just a general tool used to seal the tiles. It's a basic, unremarkable part of their life much like a screwdriver is in ours. I didn't spend too long describing it because I feel it gives the science fiction universe a more "lived in" feel if I avoid the temptation to explain the workings of everything that is different in their lives. If it's a basic and unimportant part of the story that the characters take for granted I tend to do the same. I suppose I see this as a difference in styles of writing. The Jules Verne method tends toward detailed scientific description. H.G. Wells on the other hand could write a story about a time machine without any real attempt to explain how it worked. His interest wasn't with the unnecessary technical details, but with the human drama. I tend more toward that method. I explain whatever seems necessary for the story, but the characters are my focus.

The radio issue was explained more in the previous chapter. In the approach to Base 2 on Mars they used the same probes and were able to get a visual signal demonstrating the destruction there. The mystery of Earth is demonstrated in chapter three with the fact that the two probes sent there were destroyed before any visual transmission could be made. Birch believes this demonstrates that there is more to the situation on Earth than its silence seems to indicate. The fact that no radio transmissions have been picked up from Earth is less a technical point than an indication of what conditions exist there. The fear is that during their long absence humanity might have destroyed itself.

I certainly actively seek "hooks" in my work. I agree that there isn't much of a hook at the beginning of this chapter. My natural tendency is to place them at the end, therefore the hook for the beginning of chapter three really lies at the end of chapter two. Once a new chapter begins I'm starting to build toward the next cliffhanger that will naturally lead the reader into the following chapter.

Thank you for taking the time to read my work and letting me know what you think. I always appreciate hearing other opinions. :-)

[sfharper]

Hi Lee, there's good conflict at the end and a good cliffhanger, but the chapter opening needs a better hook. I'm wondering why they have tiles on their ship after what happened with Columbia. Spot joiner doesn't sound very technical or something that would have heat resistant properties. I'm also curious about calling Earth with radio, it seems to me that one of the difficulties we had landing on the moon was the lack of communications at times due to blocked signal. Did the earlier team not launch communication satellites? Did the probes not have a video signal? :) Sheri

[Lee*]

Thank you for your constructive comments. I appreciate it! I understand your thoughts on the dialogue. There are a few sections I'm not really happy with and plan to work on.

Your thoughts on the similarities of the speakers might have something to do with those involved in this early part of the book. Birch and Jane are similar characters. That's part of their problem. Both are strong, forceful, and spoiling for a fight after what they've been through together. I believe greater distinction will show between individuals as the others are introduced and these two grow throughout the story. We'll see. I'm constantly reviewing and looking for improvement so I'll keep it in my thoughts.

[ShaneShock]

Again, I love your descriptions.

This is a review of Chapters Two and Three.

A much slower pace than my own writing, but my usual short attention span is not wavered, unusually captivated by your gradual release of information, and certainly your descriptive talent -- description that is not overbearing, I am pleased to point out. I very much enjoy reading your work.

Now, that being said, no work is perfect, and one flaw I would like to point out is your dialog. It does not seem natural -- in fact, it seems very unnatural. In many instances I get the impression some of the dialog is in place simply to give me facts so that you don't have to do it in exposition. Which is good, but it feels like that is what you are doing, and therefore it kills the naturalistic nature dialog should have. Also, when I read the dialog, it sounds like the same person is talking every time; there is no distinction in dialect, or word choice, or sentence structure. I know you can do it, because I read Cardboard Heroes, and the President of the United States is very distinguished from the others when I read his dialog.

SS