Oli, A Very New Moon by Carl Derham
CHAPTER 10
Mission cancelled
“Mission control…Mission control, this is Persius.”
Captain O’Connell had the target moon in view and was preparing for the final approach.
“Retro firing now.”
The two men were thrust forward into their harnesses as the rockets fired, slowing the craft to a speed relative to the asteroid. They were now one kilometre above the body. Flameout disengaged the fuel tank and Captain O’Connell fired the thrusters to bring the craft down to the surface. This was the most dangerous part of the mission, if you didn’t take into account being fired at by a Throgloid with a plasma weapon. But of course, they were blissfully unaware of how close they had come to being the first casualties in an inter-planetary war. The landing legs extended from beneath the craft where the fuel tank had previously been slung and the radar screen showed a patch of flat rock directly below. He locked onto this position and the craft slowly approached the surface. 100m...70m...40m...He fired a short burst to slow the descent. 20m...10m...5...4...3...2...1… Clunk! The feet of the capsule hit the rocky surface cushioned by pneumatic pistons and automatically fired bolts to prevent it from drifting away. They didn’t know for certain how much gravity the asteroid would create, but they knew that it would be minimal.
“Touchdown! The eagle has landed.”
Although this wasn’t the official signal to send, Flameout had always dreamt of saying it and felt that under the circumstances, he’d probably get away with it. They prepared themselves for exiting the vehicle and entering history. They donned their helmets and the pressure inside the capsule was released. The entire top section, including the curved window opened and slid to the back of the ship. They both prepared to leave the cockpit. Pitcher had to raise himself from his seat, which was unfeasibly easy. In fact, he had to grasp the metal handle which was positioned to aid his exit, to prevent himself from floating straight up into the airless sky. At this point, he felt it would be prudent to attach his long harness line which would allow him to move about freely, safe in the knowledge that if he pushed off a bit too forcefully he would only float as far as the cable would allow. With this added feeling of security, he lifted one leg over the edge of the cockpit and climbed down to the waiting rock using the ladder that ran down the side of the craft. As he watched Flameout descending through the corner of his eye, Pitcher opened a hatch in the side of the craft that concealed a compartment, with tools used for collecting rock samples. All the time he was silently praying that Flameout didn’t come out with something about this being a small step, or anything similar.
“What the blazes is that?” exclaimed Captain O’Connell.
Flameout had just reached the ground and he turned to see that Pitcher was pointing at a spot, one hundred metres away, where there appeared to be an object on the surface of the asteroid. He lifted his sun visor and squinted into the distance, shielding the sun from his helmet with his hand. It appeared to be a tripod with an object on top.
“Mission control…Persius. We’ve got something here. Moving to investigate.”
The President was listening to the conversation. He’d half expected that they would find something out of the ordinary. In fact, the real mission was not one of retrieving rock samples but finding out who, or what had halted a 58 billion tonne lump of rock as though it were a helium balloon. As the astronauts approached the tripod, bounding along in three metre strides, it became blatantly obvious that the object was not a natural feature of the asteroid. It was clear now that the object perched on top of the tripod was a black sphere. They moved closer.
“Ah…Mission control…Persius. I think someone’s been here already.”
They were standing next to the tripod now and in the interest of science, Captain O’Connell gave the sphere a sharp prod with his clumsily-gloved hand. It appeared to be solid.
“Mission control, we have a sphere on a tripod. I’ve not seen anything like it before. Please advise.”
There was the usual delay when talking over such distances, plus a little extra.
“Persius…Mission control. How large is the object? Will it fit into the compartment on the capsule?”
“Affirmative control. The object will transport.”
He didn’t know how heavy it would be when subjected to gravity but it couldn’t weigh more than the permitted payload for re-entry of the shuttle.
“You are authorised to collect the device and transport to Olympia.”
Captain O’Connell grasped the sphere with both hands and was surprised when it lifted away from the tripod with very little resistance. Slowly they made their way back to the capsule. The Graviton Generator was placed in a padded corner of the compartment and secured with straps. Then they continued with the secondary task of collecting rock samples.
Mission cancelled
“Mission control…Mission control, this is Persius.”
Captain O’Connell had the target moon in view and was preparing for the final approach.
“Retro firing now.”
The two men were thrust forward into their harnesses as the rockets fired, slowing the craft to a speed relative to the asteroid. They were now one kilometre above the body. Flameout disengaged the fuel tank and Captain O’Connell fired the thrusters to bring the craft down to the surface. This was the most dangerous part of the mission, if you didn’t take into account being fired at by a Throgloid with a plasma weapon. But of course, they were blissfully unaware of how close they had come to being the first casualties in an inter-planetary war. The landing legs extended from beneath the craft where the fuel tank had previously been slung and the radar screen showed a patch of flat rock directly below. He locked onto this position and the craft slowly approached the surface. 100m...70m...40m...He fired a short burst to slow the descent. 20m...10m...5...4...3...2...1… Clunk! The feet of the capsule hit the rocky surface cushioned by pneumatic pistons and automatically fired bolts to prevent it from drifting away. They didn’t know for certain how much gravity the asteroid would create, but they knew that it would be minimal.
“Touchdown! The eagle has landed.”
Although this wasn’t the official signal to send, Flameout had always dreamt of saying it and felt that under the circumstances, he’d probably get away with it. They prepared themselves for exiting the vehicle and entering history. They donned their helmets and the pressure inside the capsule was released. The entire top section, including the curved window opened and slid to the back of the ship. They both prepared to leave the cockpit. Pitcher had to raise himself from his seat, which was unfeasibly easy. In fact, he had to grasp the metal handle which was positioned to aid his exit, to prevent himself from floating straight up into the airless sky. At this point, he felt it would be prudent to attach his long harness line which would allow him to move about freely, safe in the knowledge that if he pushed off a bit too forcefully he would only float as far as the cable would allow. With this added feeling of security, he lifted one leg over the edge of the cockpit and climbed down to the waiting rock using the ladder that ran down the side of the craft. As he watched Flameout descending through the corner of his eye, Pitcher opened a hatch in the side of the craft that concealed a compartment, with tools used for collecting rock samples. All the time he was silently praying that Flameout didn’t come out with something about this being a small step, or anything similar.
“What the blazes is that?” exclaimed Captain O’Connell.
Flameout had just reached the ground and he turned to see that Pitcher was pointing at a spot, one hundred metres away, where there appeared to be an object on the surface of the asteroid. He lifted his sun visor and squinted into the distance, shielding the sun from his helmet with his hand. It appeared to be a tripod with an object on top.
“Mission control…Persius. We’ve got something here. Moving to investigate.”
The President was listening to the conversation. He’d half expected that they would find something out of the ordinary. In fact, the real mission was not one of retrieving rock samples but finding out who, or what had halted a 58 billion tonne lump of rock as though it were a helium balloon. As the astronauts approached the tripod, bounding along in three metre strides, it became blatantly obvious that the object was not a natural feature of the asteroid. It was clear now that the object perched on top of the tripod was a black sphere. They moved closer.
“Ah…Mission control…Persius. I think someone’s been here already.”
They were standing next to the tripod now and in the interest of science, Captain O’Connell gave the sphere a sharp prod with his clumsily-gloved hand. It appeared to be solid.
“Mission control, we have a sphere on a tripod. I’ve not seen anything like it before. Please advise.”
There was the usual delay when talking over such distances, plus a little extra.
“Persius…Mission control. How large is the object? Will it fit into the compartment on the capsule?”
“Affirmative control. The object will transport.”
He didn’t know how heavy it would be when subjected to gravity but it couldn’t weigh more than the permitted payload for re-entry of the shuttle.
“You are authorised to collect the device and transport to Olympia.”
Captain O’Connell grasped the sphere with both hands and was surprised when it lifted away from the tripod with very little resistance. Slowly they made their way back to the capsule. The Graviton Generator was placed in a padded corner of the compartment and secured with straps. Then they continued with the secondary task of collecting rock samples.