Four

 

                               Four

 

     The work had been slow, but then they had to be sure. After days of checks and rechecks Birch was confident that the heat shield was as secure as it could ever be. He was far less confident that it was as secure as it needed to be. In continued simulations he had been unable to complete a successful reentry; even with the repairs the shield was too compromised to get it right. He knew it was possible if he could hit the best trajectory, but no matter how benign an attitude he took on the simulator the reentry always ended the same, with a catastrophic breach to the shields. If he had thought it would make any difference he would have stayed longer to try and get at least one successful run-through, but somehow he didn’t think it would change the outcome. After so many practices he just wanted to do it, and perhaps the true chance of reality would outweigh the calculations of a computer. Anything could happen and this was the time to find out. 

 

     For a moment the command center was in silent reflection. Birch took one last look at Earth in its distant beauty. Soon it would either embrace and accept them back to its bosom or fling them away as a spurned child. He shifted in his seat and looked around. They were ready.

 

     "Good, let’s go. Okay everyone, prepare for landing procedure. We're going home!"

Birch quickly strapped himself in; the others hurriedly followed his example and reached for their own belts, locking themselves into position. Jane hesitated for just a moment, turning to look at Birch before snapping her belt together. Her face paled visibly as she turned to stare intently at the screen before her. 

 

     This part of the reentry process wasn’t going to be easy. Years of space exploration and satellite technology had left Earth surrounded by a floating junkyard of metal fragments that posed a significant danger to any returning craft. Before it had become a fully-fledged colony this legacy of early technologies had been a significant factor in the development of Base Two on Mars as a launch pad for deep space missions. Now Jane was plotting a course through this dangerous hazard.   "We have a window of opportunity in seven minutes Major," she announced, "though it will be tight".

 

     Birch punched a button in front of him and brought Jane's display up on his own screen. The red course line through the debris confirmed her conclusion. It would be tight, very tight, but then in his experience that had always been the case with Earth landings. Whatever had caused the improvement in the quality of Earth's atmosphere clearly hadn't gotten out this far since this was just as bad as he remembered it. Now he sighed quietly, steeling himself for the task ahead.

 

   "Course confirmed", he announced, "begin command module separation sequence." Karla nodded and began tapping at the keyboard in front of her.

 

   "Separation sequence begun," Karla stated evenly, "final separation in six seconds… five… four… three…" Birch could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, "two… one…" The sound of grinding metal and a sudden lurch to the left announced their separation. Karla confirmed it; "we're free of all moorings, separation complete".

 

   The small ship, loosed now from the burden of its fuel cells, arced gracefully under Birch's guidance and came into position, preparing for re-entry. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and glanced at the screen in front of him. Two minutes. He'd have to hold position here until the opening came.

 

   He balanced the controls effortlessly as the ship hovered expectantly. Birch glanced down at his screen again: one minute forty. He tried not to think too much. This procedure always depended much more on instinct than thought. Too much thought could get you killed. His mind wasn't cooperating though as he tried to empty himself of all distraction images of Earth. His hopes for it crowded in on him. This wasn't a good way to approach an Earth landing. Hope always gave birth to fear and fear to failure. He had to concentrate.

              

     He looked at the screen again, fifty-three seconds. Glancing at the others he could see the strain in their faces. Desante smiled nervously at him. Birch smiled wanly back and looked down at his screen again: twenty seconds. This wasn't working; he wasn't focused enough. Opening and closing his hands rhythmically Birch grabbed the control stick and stared unblinkingly at the screen before him. He had to be one with the ship, instinctive control. He watched the numbers change, eleven… ten…, concentrate, nine… eight…, think, seven… six…, he was ready now. Thoughts of failure or success were gone, all that remained was the task ahead, two… one… there it was. The computer beeped its alert signal. Now!

Reviews

[alec merdin]

Wow i like it and i don't usually like the depressing stuff like this but its good

[TL Boehm]

you are quite adept at the end of chapter cliff hanger. Just as I am sitting perched to see what happens...I have to go read the next chapter. Well done and the descriptions are solid throughout each chapter.