He had no idea how long the light had been flashing, and the suit’s setup did not allow him to get an accurate reading on the remaining amount. He had roughly twelve minutes of air left in the other Skylab oxygen pack sitting inside the ship, which he needed for pressurizing the cabin if his current air supply ran out. He was forced to make a gut-wrenching decision—does he save the commander or not?
Peter looked out at the helpless cosmonaut sticking out of the abandoned spacecraft. He did not know the man, yet he was a fellow spaceman. Regardless, he had to remind himself he had a responsibility to the two men in his ship, and saving two lives was better than saving none. He also thought of Anya and his love for her.
He closed his eyes briefly and saw Viktor in his mind. The old cosmonaut was standing with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Peter opened his eyes. Damn it. You’re right.
Peter pushed off the Galileo and hauled ass toward the damaged spacecraft. “Either we all die or we all live.”
A SURGE OF adrenaline shot through Peter as the commander dangled from his legs. Peter’s body was screaming for oxygen as he used his legs to clutch the slipping cosmonaut while they raced back to the Galileo. Sergei started off in the right hugging position when they left the Soyuz, but for some reason he had been slowly sliding down Peter’s body. Due to the rush to get them both connected to oxygen on the ship, he elected not take time to attach a tether line to the cosmonaut before departing the Soyuz, which was looking like a bad choice. If Sergei slipped off, he would undoubtedly float away from Peter into deep space. Peter would have no alternative but to cut the commander loose due to his thinning air supply.
Peter was starting to feel lightheaded due to the lack of oxygen. He tried not to panic. He struggled to zero in on the approaching Galileo. The engineer was hanging out of the entryway waiting to help. Peter’s plan was to come in high so the engineer could grab the commander. Sweat was pooling around his eyes. He quickly blinked to dislodge the droplets impacting his view. Peter was coming in hot and he had only one chance at getting this right. He could not afford to have the engineer miss grabbing the commander.
Peter’s aim looked to be slightly off. He was forced to make a course adjustment, firing the thrusters at 90 degrees to the direction of travel, preventing him from using them to slow down. He had no choice; he accepted the fact he would once again crash into the ship. He made the adjustment, lowering their trajectory. Peter’s heart was pounding out of his chest because the commander’s grip had slipped all the way down to his boots. Peter called out in his helmet, “Come on, Sergei, hold on!”
Ten feet out, Peter saw the engineer spread out his arms, giving him a large target. Once he was satisfied with their aim, Peter pulled back on the control stick. In the last few feet, he used his remaining strength to raise his legs to put the commander in the best possible position to be snatched. As he started to pass over the engineer, his direction changed due to a slight pull by Sergei before he let go of his legs, signaling he must have been snatched by the engineer. Peter’s change of direction sent him crashing into the ship.
10
ABOUT TIME
A nasty stench lingered in the sun-drenched cabin of the Galileo. Ever since removing their helmets, Peter had been overcome by the body odor of the three other men with their scraggly faces, who had been in their flight suit for days. He blocked out the unpleasant smell as he prepared their spacecraft for re-entry. Though all four men were alive and returning home, they were exhausted. All the spacemen were feeling the after effects from the rescue, especially Sergei. Peter was happy he took the calculated risk of saving the commander, even though the Russian was experiencing severe symptoms from decompression sickness. Peter had to block out the commotion going on around him while he studied the monitors, double-checking that their re-entry into the atmosphere was going as planned and at the proper angle.
Peter radioed in a raspy voice to SpaceQuest’s mission control which was handling the re-entry. “California, velocity is 33,578 feet per second.”
“Roger, Galileo. We will have you for about seven more minutes before blackout. How do your coordinates look?”
Moisture returned to Peter’s palms and the perspiration welled up on his forehead as he prepared for another fiery re-entry. At least this time he would be landing in friendly international waters instead of a communist country with soldiers waiting. His demeanor stayed steady as he answered, “Copy that, California. We look to be going right down the middle of the corridor.”
“We concur, Galileo. Looking good.”
Peter was stone-faced as he continued to review the information developing on the monitors. This was the first manned re-entry for SpaceQuest, and he wanted to make sure they got it right. If their ship was just a few degrees off on their angle of attack, they would skip right off the atmosphere, like the many rocks he used to skip off Clear Lake as a boy.
Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Sergei’s body once again go into convulsions. Peter’s heart sank, as it was the third seizure for the cosmonaut since being rescued. Every muscle in the cosmonaut’s body appeared to be contracting simultaneously as he arched his back off the seat, his body fighting the straps that kept him secure. Peter quickly looked over to see the cosmonaut’s eyes darting about, as if he was possessed. The worried engineer shoved a small towel in the commander’s mouth, hoping to prevent him from biting his tongue. A sinking sensation overtook Peter as he witnessed the disturbing scene. Regrettably, there wasn’t much anyone could do except try to comfort the tough cosmonaut until they were back on Earth. The ship that would retrieve them had a hyperbaric chamber where the commander would immediately be placed to recompress. Peter prayed it wouldn’t be too late.
Sitting next to Peter was the spoiled ass tourist who regained consciousness soon after he was saved. To Peter’s dismay, the madman hadn’t stopped bitching since. The man turned away from the shaking commander and looked Peter square in the eye. With no expression, he coldly said, “I better not have to pay for this fucked-up trip.”
Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He cut his mic to mission control. “Shut up, asshole.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? I demand respect.”
Peter’s fist tightened. “Are you serious? Your commander is having a seizure next to you, and all you care about is money? Dude, you’re lucky to be alive, and you better hope you stay that way. So stop your bitching and prepare for re-entry.” Peter yanked out the man’s headset cord from the ship’s connection, making sure he didn’t have to listen to the asshole over his headset.
All four men had snoopy caps on with their helmets off, breathing the cabin air since their oxygen hoses did not link up to the spacecraft’s connections. If they were to lose cabin pressure, they would all be in trouble.
“Galileo, California. Forty-five seconds until blackout. Please reset the two blue circuit breakers under and to the left of the pilot’s monitor. Punch those in. Over.”
Peter scrambled to locate the breakers before the blackout hit. Once located, he hurriedly pushed them in with a grunt of relief. “Roger, breakers reset.”
“Good job. You’re going over the hill shortly. You’re looking mighty fine to us.”
“Copy that. Talk to you on the flip side.” Peter called out to the crew. “Gentleman, prepare for re-entry.” Peter looked over to see Sergei’s seizure had subsided. He said a quick prayer for the man before he braced himself for another violent re-entry. He closed his eyes and thought of Anya.