Even with the foot off the accelerator Atlantis still builds speed through the thinning air, its trajectory now almost horizontal as it trades altitude for velocity.
Henri surveys the screens before him. The five on-board computers have run their assigned programs and the engines have performed as designed.
‘We are go for main engine cut-off.’ The flight computers order the shuttle’s fuel valves to close and the main engines shut down. Instantly the occupants are thrown forward, strain against their harnesses as the 3Gs of pressure is released.
‘We are go for external tank separation.’ Henri feels a light shudder as the explosive bolts that hold the now empty external tank to the shuttle fire. The tank is released and drops away, begins its long fall to the Atlantic below.
They have reached a height of just over 300 kilometres, travelling at 30000 kilometres an hour. Henri feels himself become weightless and it is wonderful. Finally, after years of planning, they are in orbit.
The Frenchman smiles his Mona Lisa smile but that will be his only celebration. There is much to do.
The Jet Ranger settles on the long grass.
Dirk steps out, GPS unit in his hand, torch in the other. He quickly moves into the darkness.
Tam raises his head to a sound, forces his eyes open. ‘Who’s that?’ His words are laboured. He tries his best to focus on the figure that crouches before him.
‘It’s Dirk. What happened?’
Tam’s breathing is shallow. ‘Bitten. Cottonmouth.’
‘Christ.’
‘Least it wasn’t… an American alligator.’ Tam grins to himself.
‘Where’s Gerald?’
‘Dead. In a tree.’ Tam studies the German. ‘Glad you’re here. I need a doc.’
‘I know. I’ll take care of it.’
Relieved, Tam nods and lets his eyes close. ‘Okay. Good.’
‘You did well.’
‘Thanks, man.’
Dirk draws his silenced pistol, points it at Tam’s temple and pulls the trigger. Tam’s head snaps back and he sags to the ground.
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Tam knew it coming in. They all did. There was no time in the schedule for a visit to a doctor and no point anyway. When you got bit by a cottonmouth you stayed bit.
Dirk stands, rests a foot on Tam’s chest and rolls his body into the cement shaft. He waits for it to hit the bottom then turns for the chopper, his expression grim. He’d always liked Tam. He hasn’t felt this bad since he cut down the oak.
It all goes away. The stress that has preoccupied Rhonda over the last two years, the by-product of preparing to fly a two-week mission to the International Space Station. It vanishes, like smoke on the wind.
It is replaced by something else, something terrible, an altogether different kind of stress. Not knowing. Why is she here? Why was her life spared when others weren’t? Why did her best friend betray her? What do these hijackers want? And what has happened to Judd?
For the first time she can remember she feels completely powerless, like she’s stuck in knee-deep mud, unable to move. What makes it worse it that she has no idea what to do about it.
14
Judd was way off with the 30 per cent estimate.
He falls through the launch platform’s left rectangular hole with plenty of room to spare, then lands in the two metres of water still remaining in the flame trench from the sound suppression system. His back and legs feel numb from the impact and the wound on his hip throbs like a mother but he doesn’t care because he’s alive. Only now, as he floats in the water, does he realise how close, and how often, he came to buying the farm tonight.
The water seeps away and Judd peels himself off the cement. He looks up at the fat arc of white smoke left by the shuttle’s solid rockets, stark against the black sky. He follows it until it disappears into the star field.
Judd’s not a big fan of the men-crying thing. He thinks that you only get three cries in adult life so they had better be worth it. His first was in ‘89 when Kevin Costner played catch with the young version of his Dad at the end of Field Of Dreams. It was a movie during which many a dude shed a tear so Judd wasn’t embarrassed about it. The second time he Costnered was at the Columbia memorial service as he mourned his dead friend. Again, an appropriate response considering the situation. And now, at the thought of never seeing Rhonda again, he’s on the verge of Costnering for a third time. He can feel moisture at the corner of his eyes and it’s not from the flame trench. He breathes deeply, holds the emotion in check. This is not the time for waterworks.
He sets off at pace towards the VAB and pushes Rhonda from his mind by asking himself why someone would want to steal a space shuttle. If he can answer that question then maybe he can understand the hijackers’ plans and work out what he can do to get her back.
Do they think they can ransom Atlantis? If they do they’re in for a rude shock. The US government doesn’t negotiate with hijackers or terrorists. Ever. As pretty well everyone on the planet knows this, it doesn’t seem a likely reason.
Maybe the hijackers want to kidnap the astronauts and ransom their families? But why do it like this? Why not grab them on their way to pick up a carton of milk from the corner store?
Maybe the hijackers plan to sell the shuttle, perhaps to the Chinese, who have a manned space program that Judd expects to be moon-bound within a decade. This one seems like a very long bow. The Chinese space program uses Apollo-style disposable rockets, a system that has little in common with the shuttle. If, for some reason, the Chinese needed a piece of specific, shuttle-related knowledge they would surely employ one of their vast server farms to hack the information online, not physically steal a spacecraft.
Three minutes into his walk to the VAB and no closer to understanding the hijackers’ motivation, he’s splashed by the headlights of the KSC SWAT team’s box-shaped van. The van pulls up and expels a dozen young guys holding serious weaponry, the sort Judd wishes he’d had access to earlier that evening. The team stalk around manfully but seem to have no idea what’s going on. They keep looking up at the sky as if Atlantis might be hanging there, within easy reach. The team leader quickly recognises Judd and is very excited to meet a genuine astronaut. He then notices the wound on Judd’s hip and cannot be dissuaded from radioing an ambulance to transport him to hospital.
At Cape Canaveral Hospital Judd spends almost half an hour being treated for his injuries — a bruised back, burned skin and a surprisingly large gash on his hip that requires seven stitches.
While he’s being treated Will Thompkins calls to check that he’s okay and to organise a debrief once Judd’s discharged. It’s a short conversation during which Thompkins sounds both stressed and preoccupied. Straight after the hijack NASA’s Administrator Charlie Cunningham placed Thompkins in charge of the Atlantis recovery mission. It’s a big promotion for the midget Hasselhoff. His career is set — if NASA exists after this.
It’s pushing midnight by the time Judd exits the ER to find Will Thompkins in the foyer, deep in conversation on his BlackBerry. He points Judd to an empty office nearby and takes its only chair, sits on it back to front, and continues the phone call. Judd has always thought back to front was the coolest way to sit on a chair but seeing Thompkins do it makes it feel both try-hard and irritating. He vows never to sit that way again.