"Well, uh, hmm..." Chow wasn't one hundred percent certain himself, so he took a closer look. "Those are systems the computer has flagged as being not quite right or in need of monitoring by the crew. They would be red if there was a serious malfunction. Orange just means that they need checking and monitoring. Personally, I like green."

"Green is a nice nice color." Hui smiled. color." Hui smiled.

Chow began checking each system just as he had been trained while Hui watched the video feed from Stetson's s.p.a.cesuit as he repaired the damage caused by the bullet piercing the s.h.i.+p's heat s.h.i.+eld. Chow occasionally glanced up from his work to note Stetson's progress as well.

Repairing the damage took Stetson a little over an hour. It wasn't as simple as taking a caulking gun and squirting goop into the hole and letting it dry. Back in the s.p.a.ce shuttle days, it was discovered that leaving a "b.u.mp" on the surface of the heat s.h.i.+eld that protruded more than three millimeters above the surface could cause extreme frictional forces that would rip the patch right off or cause it to superheat and therefore burn off. The heat s.h.i.+eld on the Orion was a bit more forgiving, as it was a reentry capsule and not a flying surface, but the models had shown that large b.u.mps on the surface would increase the heating and might be detrimental to the patch materials. In other words, rough patch jobs could be bad. Bill did his best to be meticulous about the process, but it wasn't easy in an EVA suit with those bulky gloves. On more than three occasions during the patching process, he cursed the s.p.a.cesuit designers and muttered that mankind would never make it to Mars if they didn't invent a better suit.

"Tony, this is Bill." Stetson's voice came over the s.h.i.+p-to-s.h.i.+p radio channel.

"Bill, this is Tony. Go ahead."

"I've done all I can do out here. According to my watch, we haven't got that long before we have to jettison the Altair and start our aerocapture checklists and procedures. I'm on my way in."

"Okay, Bill. I'll get everybody faces.h.i.+elds down and b.u.t.toned up so we can depressurize and get you back inside."

"Roger that. I'll just hang out here until you give me the word."

"Got it. Preparing to cycle the hatch."

Turning away from the control panel, Chow motioned for Captain Hui to b.u.t.ton up and help Bill.

He followed Hui to the hatch and showed her how to open it once the depressurization was complete. With his s.p.a.cesuit donned, and confident that Hui could handle opening a hatch, Chow turned back to the command console and rapidly completed the checklist. He had just initiated the cabin depressurization when one of the many orange warning lights turned bright red. Chow noted the warning and touched the screen to bring up more information about the alarm. He didn't like what he read.

He went back to the beginning of the depressurization sequence and began again-much more rapidly this time. The result was the same. The red warning light remained stubbornly lit, and the cabin did not depressurize.

Chow was beginning to sweat in his suit, and his heart rate began to rise. No, no, no, this can't happen now! No, no, no, this can't happen now! he thought to himself. he thought to himself.

"Bill, this is Tony. We've got another problem."

"Our luck, huh?" Stetson replied. "I was starting to wonder. I've been at the door for a few minutes waiting on you to open her up. What's the problem?"

"I can't open the door. I started the depressurization sequence, and then the status board lit up like a Christmas tree. I've been through it twice now, and all I can tell from the fault tree is that we can't depressurize to let you in. I don't know if the problem is mechanical or if it's just a sensor somewhere."

"How much time do we have before you have to separate from the lander?"

"A little more than an hour."

"Well, that's just great. I sure as h.e.l.l don't want to ride out an aerocapture from here."

"Bill, unless we get this door open within the next thirty minutes or so, you won't be able to come inside at all."

Chow activated the voice link to mission control and brought them into the discussion, hoping against hope that one of the many NASA engineers would come up with something that would allow them to bring his friend inside before it was too late.

Chow ran through the entire procedure one more time with the same result-the red light would simply not go away.

"Houston, there has to be something else we can try," Tony said and tried not to sound desperate.

"Okay, Mercy I. Mercy I. We've got another fix we want you to give a go." We've got another fix we want you to give a go."

"Roger that, Houston. Let's have it." Tony had high hopes that the engineers back at NASA would figure this out. They always did.

"It looks like we've got several circuits interrupted, probably due to damaged systems, but, nonetheless, we aren't going to trick the computers to depressurize the cabin. So, what we need to try is to cycle the inner docking hatch of the Orion. And then blow the Altair hatch out."

"Can we do that with the Altair attached to the Orion?" Bill interjected.

"No, Bill, we can't. So, we'll have to attempt this when we jettison the Altair for the aerocapture maneuver. The timeline will be tight," Houston responded.

"Hang in there, Bill. We'll start prepping for this procedure." Tony did his best to a.s.sure his commander, but he wasn't all that confident himself.

"Tony," Hui said vocally and not through the radio. "If the computer will not let us open the hatch because we're not depressurized, then why will it let us undock the Altair?"

"The engineers down at Houston want us to give it a try. And, frankly, I'm not giving up on Bill without trying something."

"Understood. Whatever I can do to help, just let me know." Hui nodded sincerely at Tony, but he could see the concern, fear, and lack of optimism in her face.

"Bill, this is Tony. I've got to start the entry procedure checklists, and the engineers have a mile-long sequence of breaker flipping that I have to do before we undock."

"Roger that, Tony. Do what needs to be done." Stetson, not sounding at all like a man who had just been handed a death sentence, added, "Tony, one more thing I want you to understand."

"What's that, Bill?"

"No matter what happens out here, our first obligation is to get this crew and this s.h.i.+p safely home. Understood?"

"Understood." Tony didn't like the sound of that.

"Good. Get to it."

"Yes, sir."

Chapter 29.

The mood in the Orion was morose. With two crewmembers injured, one incapacitated, and another trapped outside the s.h.i.+p, Anthony Chow was in command, and he didn't like it. At least he wasn't stranded on the surface of the Moon and left to die, as had been his biggest fear right up until they had actually left the Moon. Now, who knew? The likelihood of the aerocapture maneuver failing was pretty high, but Tony never had any fear of that part of the mission. Besides, he had way too many things going on to let his mind dwell on such negative things.

The Altair was about to be separated from the Orion on schedule, and they were less than two hours away from entering the outer portion of the Earth's atmosphere. Chow was putting all his faith in those wizard engineers back home in mission control to come up with a magic spell that would save his s.h.i.+p's captain, his friend. And that magic spell was a tedious one. It had taken him more than fifteen minutes of changing commands, throwing toggles, tapping icons, and physically flipping switches.

"That's the last breaker. Check!" Tony reported.

"Roger that, Mercy I Mercy I. Now, we need to do all this in very rapid secession, so make certain Bill is in the safe location and be prepared for rapid depressurization."

"Roger that." Tony looked around the cabin and saw that everybody was strapped in or tied off to something. "Bill, are you clear out there?"

"Roger that, Tony. I'm in the predetermined safe spot. It's just me and my old solar-panel buddy out here. Let's get on with this."

"You got it, Captain." Tony readied himself for typing in a rapid sequence of commands and for tapping toggle icons. "Everybody b.u.t.ton up. We start rapid depressurization in ten seconds." He waited until he got a thumbs-up from Hui and then tapped the first icon. Then he followed the sequence as the engineer at Houston called out the commands.

"That's the last one, Tony. Now cycle the docking-ring hatch." The engineer sounded confident that the sequence would work.

"Roger that. Cycling the hatch." Tony nodded to Hui to hold on and hit the hatch cycle. The icon flashed green for a brief second and then orange. Then it cycled to red and popped up a window explaining that the exterior hatch was depressurized and that they couldn't open the interior hatch without pressurizing the Altair first.

"s.h.i.+t." Tony's heart sank. "Houston. I hope you have a plan C."

"Uh, it didn't work?" The engineer's voice sounded surprised. "Mercy I, what is the status of the hatch? Our feeds show it as closed." what is the status of the hatch? Our feeds show it as closed."

"Roger that, Houston." Tony hung his head as best he could in a s.p.a.cesuit. "The hatch is closed and locked out."

"Be advised that the Altair jettison sequence is in place and will continue."

"Roger that, Houston. The Altair sequence is still green."

"Sorry, Mercy I Mercy I. Be advised that at this time there is no plan C."

"Come on! Can't you guys come up with something?"

"Sorry, Mercy I Mercy I. The Altair has to jettison now in order for the proper orbital energy to be achieved following the aerobraking maneuver. We can't postpone the Altair jettison any further."

"Listen, Houston. Bill's outside, thinking G.o.d only knows what, and you're sitting down there giving me a lecture about the physics of aerocapture? I want to know what we can do to help him survive. Can he ride this thing out there? Can he tie down to the nose or something?"

Chow watched as the Altair jettison cycle completed, and he felt a slight s.h.i.+ft as the Altair released from dock.

"Tony, I wish there was something we could do. In a few minutes, you're going to skim the outer part of the Earth's atmosphere at more than twenty thousand miles per hour. Let me put that another way, the relative wind velocity around the outside of the Orion will be twenty thousand miles per hour. And as you begin to enter the atmosphere, the atmospheric friction will superheat much of the atmosphere around the Orion to many thousands of degrees. There is simply no way an astronaut in a s.p.a.cesuit can survive that. Even if Bill could find a way to anchor himself to the s.h.i.+p, he would be fried. I want him to come home, too, but there is simply no way we can find a quick fix to make that happen. If we can't get the cabin to depressurize, we can't open that hatch." The voice on the other end of the radio connection was professional, with an appropriate amount of empathy thrown in. The combination angered Chow, who would have responded better to more anger and less sympathy.

Chow struck the control panel with his right fist and turned off the radio. He briefly looked up at the ever-present video camera and then toward Captain Hui.

"Dammit all to h.e.l.l," Chow said.

"We have to tell him." Hui frowned.

"No, we don't. He knows what it meant when the Altair drifted away and the hatch didn't cycle."

"Tony, this is Bill."

"Bill?"

"You did your best. Now focus on the mission goal."

"Roger that, Bill." Tony had tears starting at the corners of his eyes. "It's been an honor, Captain Stetson."

"Honor's all mine. I would like to talk to my wife if that could be arranged."

"Hang on. Oh, and Bill, be advised that the solar arrays are about to start cycling in, so you might want to steer clear of that."

"Right."

Gary Childers was in his Lexington, Kentucky, headquarters building with Paul Gesling and Caroline O'Conner watching the press coverage of the Mercy I Mercy I's flight. Like most of the world, they'd been mesmerized by the saga of the rescue mission. They'd been elated when the Chinese crew was found alive, on the edge of their seats when they learned that the crew had almost not survived the hike from their crashed s.h.i.+p to the American lander, and shocked when the broadcast had been abruptly cut off not long after the crew had spoken with the President and Chinese Premier. They were now grieving over the pending death of Mission Commander Stetson.

For what seemed like the thousandth time, the newscaster began to describe the aerocapture maneuver that the Mercy I Mercy I was about to attempt. "In just under twenty minutes, the Orion's heat s.h.i.+eld will begin to get hot as its friction with the Earth's atmosphere is used as a brake to both slow the s.h.i.+p and change its flight path so that it can subsequently dock with the International s.p.a.ce Station. Under normal circ.u.mstances, the Orion would simply enter directly into the atmosphere, like the Apollo missions, and come straight home to the surface. But these are hardly normal circ.u.mstances. The s.h.i.+p, occupied by a crew of six-before the unfortunate absence of Commander Stetson-is simply too heavy for a safe landing here on Earth. Instead of coming directly home, they will be docking at the International s.p.a.ce Station. Once there, the two wounded crew members plus another astronaut can return to the Earth in the Russian Soyuz s.p.a.cecraft that is docked to the station as a lifeboat. At this time, NASA has not decided how to bring the remaining crew back home to Earth. Neither the U.S. nor the Russians have any s.h.i.+ps ready to fly, and it could be months before this situation changes. Back to you, Jane." was about to attempt. "In just under twenty minutes, the Orion's heat s.h.i.+eld will begin to get hot as its friction with the Earth's atmosphere is used as a brake to both slow the s.h.i.+p and change its flight path so that it can subsequently dock with the International s.p.a.ce Station. Under normal circ.u.mstances, the Orion would simply enter directly into the atmosphere, like the Apollo missions, and come straight home to the surface. But these are hardly normal circ.u.mstances. The s.h.i.+p, occupied by a crew of six-before the unfortunate absence of Commander Stetson-is simply too heavy for a safe landing here on Earth. Instead of coming directly home, they will be docking at the International s.p.a.ce Station. Once there, the two wounded crew members plus another astronaut can return to the Earth in the Russian Soyuz s.p.a.cecraft that is docked to the station as a lifeboat. At this time, NASA has not decided how to bring the remaining crew back home to Earth. Neither the U.S. nor the Russians have any s.h.i.+ps ready to fly, and it could be months before this situation changes. Back to you, Jane."

Childers picked up the remote and muted the sound before he had to endure more inane comments from the empty-headed newscaster in the studio.

"Paul, I have an idea. We use the same docking ring that NASA uses, right? Didn't we standardize on that after we won the s.p.a.ce station robotic resupply missions contract back in 2012?"

"Why, now that you mention it"-Gesling leaned forward-"yes, yes, we did. It was too expensive to do anything else. NASA had spent hundreds of millions of dollars developing the docking ring, and it didn't make sense for us to reinvent the wheel. Though there are some things about the design that really need to be changed."

"Good, good," Childers said. "Tell me if I'm wrong about this. There's nothing that's keeping us from flying Dreamscape Dreamscape again, right? I mean, the s.h.i.+p is supposed to be able to turn around and fly again in just under two weeks after an orbital flight. Is there anything unique about your trip around the Moon that would make this turnaround time any different?" again, right? I mean, the s.h.i.+p is supposed to be able to turn around and fly again in just under two weeks after an orbital flight. Is there anything unique about your trip around the Moon that would make this turnaround time any different?"

"No, not that I am aware of."

"Good. Go out to Nevada and see to it that the Dreamscape Dreamscape is ready to fly as soon as it is safe. You're going to the s.p.a.ce Station and bringing home some real G.o.d-d.a.m.ned American heroes. We found these people, and now, by G.o.d, we're going to help bring them home." is ready to fly as soon as it is safe. You're going to the s.p.a.ce Station and bringing home some real G.o.d-d.a.m.ned American heroes. We found these people, and now, by G.o.d, we're going to help bring them home."

Gesling and O'Conner rose from their chairs and began to move toward the door. Gesling, as usual, took the lead just ahead of O'Conner so he could open the door for her.

"Caroline." Childers stopped her. "Please stay here. After I call our ill.u.s.trious senator, I suspect I will be not only speaking with the NASA Administrator, but I'll also be holding a press conference. I need your help to put together the talking points and the not-so-subtle message that s.p.a.ce Excursions is not only about joyrides but also search and rescue. If we pull this off, we'll have customers beating down our doors for the next quarter of a century!"

Caroline looked momentarily at Gesling, offered him a smile, and then returned to her seat in front of Gary Childers. Gesling paused, left the room, and closed the door.

"Don't worry." Childers leaned forward toward Caroline. "He'll be all right. He's leading a charmed life, and I suspect that you are making it even more so. Let's get this plan together so you can get out to Nevada yourself as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir!"

Bill sat straddle-legged as best he could on the capsule, keeping one hand on the handhold and staring off into s.p.a.ce. Earth was filling up a good portion of his field of view now. There was nothing he could do but sit there and contemplate. He contemplated his childhood, his life before NASA, then when he became an astronaut. He thought about his wife and kids. It made him happy to think of them and sad that he might be leaving them to fend for themselves in the world. Then he wondered if he should have done anything different. His final conclusion was no. If he ended up making the ultimate sacrifice, that would be okay with him. His mission had saved several lives and showed everyone that humans could work in the vast emptiness of s.p.a.ce. Humanity could now go to the Moon to perform rescue missions. And, eventually, his mission would show that, even though s.p.a.ce was a tough place to survive, humanity had what it took to do it. He was certain every other astronaut felt the same. He was pretty sure that even the Chinese taikonauts felt that way or they wouldn't have taken the risks they did to beat the Americans to the Moon.

Bill was pretty sure that if things went bad, there would be a bit of backlash from the public. There might be that knee-jerk reaction to resist spending more resources on such a risky thing as s.p.a.ce travel. But he also knew that everybody wanted to see Captain Kirk. Since before he was born humanity had wanted to explore s.p.a.ce. Granted, for the most part, everyone wanted somebody else to do it and somebody else to pay for it. Well, Bill was was that somebody else to do it. He had no regrets. He would do it all over again even if it meant that he would end up in exactly the same predicament, or even worse. that somebody else to do it. He had no regrets. He would do it all over again even if it meant that he would end up in exactly the same predicament, or even worse.

"Bill, are you still with us?" Chow said into the radio.

"I'm here. Where else would I be?" Stetson responded, sounding not at all like a man about to die.

"They've got your wife and kids on the private line. Do you want to speak with her now?"

"That's a stupid question. Put them on."

"Right. Here she is." Chow changed the setting to channel five, the private line that would allow Stetson and his wife to speak without anyone aboard, in the press, or even in mission control listening. The call would be recorded, but it, like other private-line calls before it, would not be made public without consent of the astronaut. Long ago, NASA had decided that everyone was ent.i.tled to private conversations with their loved ones, even astronauts.

Bill Stetson had wanted to go to the Moon since he had been old enough to remember. It was his main goal in life. Well, he had gone to the Moon. In fact, he had done more than go to the Moon. He had gone to the Moon and rescued a s.h.i.+p full of stranded astronauts and done his best to get them home. And, as far as he could tell, it looked like they were going to get home. He sat on the lower half of the Orion s.p.a.ce capsule just beneath the solar arrays staring aimlessly the beautiful starry s.p.a.ce. He didn't really wonder about the afterlife, because he felt at one with the universe right then and there. The problem wasn't fulfilling lifelong dreams and goals. The problem was leaving behind the ones that he loved. And he loved his wife with all his mind, body, soul, and heart. Then there were his two kids. His daughter was fourteen going on twenty-three and looked just like her mother-acted like her, too. And his son was eleven and every bit as bullheaded as his old man. It tore at Bill's insides thinking of them growing up without him there to see it. He indeed felt he was making the ultimate sacrifice to push humanity into s.p.a.ce and was proud of what he had done, but right then and there he just wished he could hug and kiss his family.

"Bill? Do you hear me?" He could hear his wife biting back the tears.

"Terry? I hear you, gorgeous!" Bill paused long enough to swallow the lump in his throat. "Sally and Neil there, too?"

"We're here, Daddy. We love you!"

"I love you, too, kiddos. Listen to me now. Things have gotten away from me up here, and it doesn't look like I'm gonna be coming home. It was worth it, though, because we saved four lives." Bill gulped and wasn't certain what his tear ducts would do in microgravity.