“We could break it up.” A technician sat straighter.
Russ stopped his pacing. “Go on.”
“Well, if the object was fragmented enough, then even if the remaining pieces adhered to the skin, they might not cause undue distortion. They’d be small enough to simply burn away on reentry.”
Russ turned and leaned across a desk. “What sized fragments?”
The technician turned back to his screen, typed for a few seconds, and then looked back to Russ. “Safest result would be fist-sized or smaller.”
“Ooookay.” Russ drummed his fingers on the desk. “This thing is basically a large lump of iron, and our astronauts have the equivalent of a telescopic hand-drill.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Exactly how long would that take to break it down to that sized debris? And I’m assuming it would be done via space-walk.”
“Correct, sir. If they worked around the clock…” The technician grimaced. “223 hours.”
“Nine days.” Russ sighed. “We’ve got twelve minutes until we are at intersection point.” He looked skyward. “Anything else?” He waited in silence. Russ lowered his head. “Anything?” He looked at the faces of his brilliant technicians. There was nothing but anxiety, frustration, and a little fear.
It was time to update the Orlando on their progress. Or lack of it, he thought glumly, as he slowly pulled on his headset.
“NASA’s got nothing.” Mitch turned in his seat. “Beth, you’re our science officer; any ideas?”
Beth looked up from her MEDS screen and rested on her elbows. “Well, we know it’s a metallic-based composite. But Ripley tells me that it’s only thirty-eight percent metallic. That leaves a lot of the mass that is unidentifiable. But even with only thirty-eight percent metallic weight, we estimate it’ll be around 8,000 pounds. Small enough to vanish in the atmosphere…” She grimaced. “…but if it hits us, I don’t think it’ll just stick to us.”
Mitch nodded. “Yeah, that’s what NASA figured. Okay, so we know the problem and possible outcome. I’m looking for answers now, people.”
Beth shrugged. “Bottom line, don’t let it run into us.”
“Thank you, Beth; I wish I had of thought of that.” Mitch’s lips pressed together.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” She jiggled her eyebrows.
“Can we get ahead of it?” Gerry asked. “Maybe reenter? Head for home before it gets to us. You said yourself this thing was small enough to burn up in the atmosphere. It won’t be able to follow us.”
“I thought about that, and no can do. We’re well out of position and it’d probably put us over foreign territory or the Atlantic. Orlando is clever, but it isn’t equipped for an ocean ditch, or to wind up in mainland China.”
Mitch thought for a moment. “Okay, I’m keeping that option as our break-glass strategy. We only need a few more hours to get us over friendly territory, and then we can put it down on Route 66 if we need to. So, we need more time.”
“What I wouldn’t give for a photon blaster right now,” said Gerry. “But seriously, I still think we can stay ahead of it until reentry — we’re already on the countdown clock.”
“I’ll put that on the list as well.” Mitch turned to Beth. “C’mon brains, what else you got?”
She grinned back.
“What?” Mitch asked, his mouth also hitching at the corners.
“We use the robotic arm,” she said, still grinning. “We grab that sucker, and hold on. Means we’ll lose the arm as we enter the upper atmosphere, but at least it’ll all burn up while keeping it away from us.”
Mitch sat back. “Not bad.” Immediately his mind set to working on the plan.
“No, won’t work. The arm might collapse back onto our tail as we generate reentry acceleration.” Gerry grimaced. “Sorry, I liked the idea as well.”
“It will work,” Beth responded.
“No, he’s right. It’s too big a risk.” Mitch sat back.
Beth continued to smile.
Mitch lifted his chin to her. “Okay, now what?”
“Okay, listen up, the payload bay is three times the size of our stalker, and can support ten times its weight.” She held her hands wide. “We grab it and bring it into the hold. We retain the aerodynamics of the Orlando, and we get to take home a good-sized chunk of asteroid for the nerds to drool over. Bonus points all round.” She winked.
Mitch sat thinking. “Hmm.” He mentally tried to work through the risks, but there were too many to get his head around. The one thing he did know; doing nothing was not an option anymore. “Might be all we’ve got.” He opened the link to ground control. “Russ, you there, buddy?”
“We read you, Orlando.”
Mitch gave him a thumbnail overview and waited while Russ discussed it with an assembled team.
“We’re gonna run a quick simulation — hold tight there, Mitch.” Russ left the line open.
The crew waited, staring from their MEDS screens to the cockpit window. Russ came back within two seemingly eternal minutes.
“Computer simulation says it could work. Commander, we don’t think it’s an ideal option, but weighing it up against all the other non-ideal options, this one might just be best chance you’ve got to avoid a collision.”
“Yes.” Beth air pumped.
Mitch gave her a thumbs-up, and Russ went on.
“The way we see it, you’ve got an empty payload bay, the equipment to secure the debris, and the best robotic-arm operator on or off the planet sitting right next to you.”
“Love you too, Russ.” Beth grinned from ear to ear.
“Good enough for me,” Mitch said. “Russ, while I’m going to work on getting us into position to take the catch, I’ll need you to give me some new mass and speed calculations so we can plug in the new reentry math.”
“Already working on the recalibrations now. We’ll reset the timing and duration of your reentry burn from this end. You guys just concentrate on grabbing that asteroid before it comes in close enough for you to kiss.”
Russ sounded like he sighed with relief. “Good luck, and let’s get moving, you have five minutes until you intersect — we’ve all got work to do. Over.”
“And out.” Mitch turned. “Okay, helmets on. Both of you get back to the payload bay and make sure we’re ready to put this thing to bed once you’ve grabbed it. Beth, you’re on controls, and Gerry will assist in maneuvering it into a temporary cradle. I’m going to tilt the ship so our stalker should be right in front of you. Hopefully I can create a negligible speed differential so it should float right in.”
“Sounds good to me, boss.” Beth unstrapped herself, and floated to retrieve her helmet. Gerry did the same.
“And don’t forget; this thing is magnetic,” Mitch said. “So don’t underestimate it moving erratically once it gets close to the hull.” Mitch was about to turn back, but paused.
“Beth.”
She turned.
“Don’t let this thing touch us. If it sticks, well…” He smiled. “…let’s just not let it get that close.” Mitch held her eyes until she nodded.
In the mission control room, Russell Burrows stood with legs planted and hands on his hips as he watched the data feed come back from his shuttle orbiter. The entire wall was made up of a bank of huge screens, but he focused on just one, its video feed showing the Orlando’s payload bay area. Two suited figures, Beth and Gerry, were both readying the controls for the robotic arm and the bay doors.