“All systems nominal,” Jones noted. “Will check the engine section first and then the underside.”
“Roger,” responded Hunter from Mission Control in Houston. “Copy for initial check of the SSMEs followed by a visual of the OMS pods and the underside.”
Kessler shifted his gaze to the black-and-white screen monitor.
“Ready for EVA.”
“Go for it, CJ.”
Jones slowly propelled himself to the aft section of the orbiter. Kessler noticed he was going unusually slow. Good. CJ’s being cautious.
He reached the tail section and went around it, panning the camera on Lightning’s main engines.
“Damn! You guys seeing this?”
Kessler held his breath for a moment as he realized just how close they had come to total destruction. Number-one SSME was destroyed, along with most of the exhaust section, including the protective tiles around it. The orbiter looked like it had come with only two SSMEs and the two smaller OMS engines above.
“Houston, are you there?” asked Jones.
“Ah, roger. We’re still here.”
“Any comments?”
“Not yet. Could you pan in closer?”
Kessler saw Jones disappear behind Lightning. He shifted his gaze back to the screen. The camera panned in on the area where number-one SSME had been. Now there was only a mangled mess of pipes and loose cables.
“That’s as close as I can get.”
“Hold position.”
“Hot damn, Houston! Looks like one of the turbopumps was blown to hell.”
“Yes, we can see that. Can you tell if it was the liquid hydrogen or the liquid oxygen turbopump?”
“I can’t remember which is the smaller of the two, but the one blown here’s the larger one. The other pump’s in one piece.”
“That’s the liquid hydrogen pump.”
“Well, the pumps are pretty delicate pieces of equipment. I guess a failure was bound to happen sooner or later.”
Kessler frowned. Jones was correct.
“Houston, Lightning here. You guys have any ideas?” Kessler asked.
“Lightning, we’ve just pulled out the maintenance records of the SSME, and it shows that all three engines successfully fire-tested for a full one thousand seconds each prior to installation on the orbiter. The report from the twenty-second Flight Readiness Firing last week shows nothing out of the ordinary. Based on the way the engine blew, our only guess at this point is that perhaps the turbopump somehow overheated, or maybe the blades simply came apart under the stress. Again, those are guesses. We won’t know for sure what caused it until we perform a thorough inspection.”
Kessler exhaled.
“Jones, please pan onto the left OMS engine next.”
Kessler saw the image moving over to the left Orbital Maneuvering System engine. It looked nominal.
“Can’t see anything wrong here.”
“Pan closer.”
Jones placed himself between the OMS exhaust and the vertical fin. “Sorry, boys, but there’s no apparent damage here.”
Kessler got to within inches of the screen. It looked normal. The thermal tiles surrounding the OMS engine appeared intact.
“Well, Houston?” asked Jones.
“We’ll have to continue running diagnostics. Give us a look underneath.”
“All right… oh, shit!”
Kessler watched the image on the screen rotating. Something had gone wrong. “CJ, what’s your situation? CJ?”
“Oh, man. Can’t control this thing!”
Kessler did not have a visual on Jones since he was behind Lightning. He could only see the image on the screen, which showed Lightning rotating along its center line and moving farther away, apparently out of control. Kessler finally saw him, above the tail and spinning along all three axes.
“Close your eyes. Relax!”
“Don’t fucking tell me to relax, man! This thing’s got a mind of its own. My hands aren’t even on the damned controls and the jets are firing like crazy. What in the hell’s going on?”
“Jones, Houston here. Shut the MME down. Shut it down!”
Kessler saw what he feared he would see. Jones, still spinning, was coming straight back toward Lightning. Jesus! He’s gonna crash against the orbiter!
“CJ! Shut it off! God, please, shut it off!”
“Dammit! I’m trying, I’m trying!”
Kessler watched Jones’s left hand striking the section of the MMU above his right shoulder in a desperate attempt to throw the switch off before he disappeared from Kessler’s field of view. Kessler shifted his gaze toward the screen. The image of the left OMS nozzle grew larger and larger.
“Oh, God. Nooo!” Jones screamed.
The screen went blank.
“CJ? CJ? CJ! Oh, Sweet Jesus!”
“Lightning, what’s going on? Our screen just went blank. Do you have a visual on Jones?”
“He just crashed into the left OMS engine nozzle. The MMU’s still active. He’s spinning and moving away from the orbiter!” Kessler watched jones continue to rotate in all directions as he began to move away from Lightning again.
“Fucking MMU!” Kessler removed his headset, dove for the mid-crew compartment, pressurized the airlock, and floated inside it. He moved quickly, closing the interior hatch, stripping in seconds, and donning the suit liner. He reached for the lower torso section of the pressure suit and pulled it up to his waist. He then dove into the upper section and joined it to the lower section with the connecting ring.
“Lightning? What’s going on? What’s the status of Jones? Is he moving?”
Kessler, his senses clouded by the sudden rush of adrenaline, barely heard Hunter’s voice coming through the speakers. Every second counted. Every damned second. He’d let Jones down years before in Iraq. Kessler was determined not to do it again. As mission commander, Kessler was responsible for the spacecraft and its crew. Jones was his crew.
Kessler backed himself into the PLSS backpack unit and strapped it on, also securing the control and display unit on his chest. Gloves, gloves… He scanned the shelf to his left.
There!
He snapped the gloves into the ring locks and put on the skull cap and communications gear. He activated the backpack unit and before he read the displays, he reached for the helmet and lowered it into place. He locked it and eyed the display on his chest. The backpack system was nominal. Kessler lowered the visor assembly over his helmet.
“Lightning, Houston here. Please acknowledge. Lightning? Lightning? Dammit, Michael. Answer me!”
“I’m here, Chief,” he responded through his voice-activated headset. “I’m going after him.”
“Not yet. You haven’t fully pre-breathed yet.”
“I know, Chief, but I don’t have a choice. He’s getting away!”
“Then be very careful. Try to relax as much as possible. Don’t breathe any faster than you have to or you might throw up inside your suit.”