Delta-v, page 36
Chindarkar said, “I imagine there’d be . . . product endorsements.”
“Three countries have landed on the Moon. An international Mars mission is being prepared. Do you really think a brief flurry of media attention will replace the money we’d make from our mining bonus? How much are we sending back on this shipment, Ade?”
Adisa tapped at invisible screens. “About 720 tons of water, 120 tons of ammonia, 140 tons of nitrogen, 40 tons of iron carbonyl, 36 tons of nickel carbonyl, and 26 tons of cobalt carbonyl. A bit over a thousand tons total.”
“A thousand tons. That’s worth a hell of a lot in a lunar DRO. And that’s just our first year. Remember all the problems we’ve solved since then. Our machines are working twenty-four/seven now. We could triple or quadruple that output in the next twelve months.”
“That is optimistic, but—”
“Possible. It’s possible, Ade. Our contract guarantees six million each—plus production bonuses, and at this rate, that means tens of millions per person. Maybe more. Now, I didn’t go through all this just to have my daughters’ inheritance erased by some bankruptcy judge back on Earth.”
Tighe and the others considered Morra’s argument. “What’s to say Joyce will honor our agreement?”
Morra folded his arms. “I think Joyce wants to prove the other Titans wrong—above all. And he does that by making this a successful business. I say we keep our eyes on the prize and go fix Goff’s robots. But I do think we demand payment for it.”
Abarca stared at Morra—but she appeared to be considering his argument.
Chindarkar balked. “You can’t be serious.”
Jin also looked surprised. “I would not have expected you to argue Joyce’s case.”
“I’m not doing it for Joyce. I’m doing it for us.”
Adisa flipped through the virtual technical manuals. “Repairing these systems will be too complex for telepresence. That means several EVAs—amid orbiting debris.”
Tighe nodded. “Ade’s right, and those would be long-distance EVAs—the longest we’ve done so far. At least 8 or 9 kilometers away from the Konstantin.”
Morra considered this. “We could use mules to tow the dead robots back here.”
Abarca shook her head. “Oh no. We don’t want those things anywhere near the Konstantin. Who knows what they’ll do when they reactivate.”
“Well, what do you propose, Isabel? If we sit here and do nothing, Goff wrecks everything we’ve worked for. We’ll be famous back on Earth. Whoopee—a free drink in every bar. Do you really want to go back to Earth empty-handed? I don’t.”
Tsukada said, “Surely we wouldn’t lose everything if Joyce went bankrupt.”
“Let’s not find out. Joyce may seem bad, but he’s the devil we know. He built this ship, and it has kept us alive. His creditors? Who the hell knows?”
Chindarkar asked, “What’s to stop Goff from revealing us after we fix his robots?”
Abarca shook her head. “No, Goff has to know we could easily sabotage his mining operation. We’re here. He’s not. He has too much to lose by betraying us.”
Morra pointed. “Exactly. Which means we should do this.” He looked around the table. “I volunteer. No one else has to go.”
Jin shook his head. “It is against procedure. I will go with you.”
Tighe added, “I’ll go, too—in case you need rescue.”
Abarca intervened. “We don’t even have a plan.” She looked to Adisa. “Ade, finish reviewing those CRC tech manuals. When you’re ready, we’ll get their engineers on the line. Let’s have the minimum number of crew involved, and we turn back at the first sign of trouble.”
Morra, Jin, and Tighe exchanged looks and nodded.
“In the meantime, let’s make sure our first return shipment departs on schedule.”
JUNE 10, 2035
Tighe floated in his EVA suit, tethered to the rim of a large metallic solar shield. The 25-meter-diameter shield was actually an inflatable polymer shell with a metallic film applied to its leading surface via chemical vapor deposition. It formed the prow of a newly built spacecraft that gleamed beneath the LED work lights of a mule hovering nearby.
Next to Tighe floated Isabel Abarca and David Morra. To the other side of Abarca floated Jin Han. It was the first time all four clam suits had been in use at once and Abarca’s first EVA since the Konstantin arrived a year and a half earlier. Company policy stated that the ship’s surgeon should remain on board the Konstantin unless absolutely necessary. However, today was necessarily historic.
The four of them floated alongside the words “Nicole Clarke,” stenciled in meter-high gray letters. They’d named the vessel in honor of their friend and former captain.
Behind the solar shield the Nicole Clarke consisted of a latticework of printed polymer girders containing a ring of half a dozen 7-meter spherical bladder tanks, each filled with 180,000 liters of various resources—water ice, liquid nitrogen, or ammonia. In the gaps between the large tanks were another half a dozen small ones, each containing 14,000 liters of various carbonyls. A seventh large tank occupied the center of the ring, supplying fuel to the single methalox rocket engine mounted within a girder framework at the back of the ship.
Over the last several months Tighe, Jin, and Morra had unstepped one of the Konstantin’s engines and installed it on the Nicole Clarke. The task required hundreds of man-hours and close attention to AR-guided instructional videos, plus numerous consultations with mission control engineers back on Earth. However, the engine was eventually mounted, and with Tsukada’s and Chindarkar’s assistance, custom piping, valves, fuel pumps, cold-gas thrusters, solar panels, and circuitry were fashioned to complete the robotic tug based on a CAD plan transmitted by Catalyst managers. Once the tug’s OS was loaded and diagnostics run, mission control declared it ready for use.
Barely 5 percent of the Konstantin’s length, the Nicole Clarke was nonetheless twice the Konstantin’s mass. However, since only 412 meters per second of delta-v was needed to depart Ryugu for cislunar space on this date, one lone rocket engine and a single large fuel tank would suffice to propel it homeward. Software would manage its journey.
Tighe and the others posed, arm in arm, near the tug’s name, each of them making a thumbs-up gesture with their heavily padded gloves.
Chindarkar took several images with the mule’s cameras.
Adisa’s voice said, “We have just received a message from mission control—it is Nathan Joyce. Gabriel would like us to play it before the launch.”
The four miners on EVA exchanged annoyed looks.
Abarca nodded. “All right, let’s hear it, Ade.”
Moments later Joyce’s voice came in over the comm link. “Today is an historic day—the launch of humanity’s first ship returning space-mined resources back toward our home world. A ship that is itself mostly fashioned from resources mined in space. What you’ve achieved is the realization of a long-held dream—and proof that humanity has a future in the cosmos. Nicole Clarke would be proud to know this historic vessel bears her name.”
Tighe muttered, “Hopefully people back on Earth learn about her someday.”
Joyce continued. “Congratulations to each and every one of you. Launch the Nicole Clarke whenever you are ready.”
With that Tighe passed a snowball-sized white plastic sphere to Abarca. “Care to do the honors?”
She took the object into her hands. “What’s this?”
“We can’t christen a ship with champagne out here, so Amy put together a polymer shell filled with liquid nitrogen.”
“I throw it onto the hull?”
“When you’re ready.”
Abarca wound up her pitch. “I christen this vessel the Nicole Clarke. May she find her way safely home.” With that Abarca hurled the object at the solar shield.
On impact the egg-thin shell shattered, dispersing the liquid out into space.
The crew cheered.
Tighe turned to see two mules coming in to retrieve them, remotely piloted by Chindarkar and Adisa. The miners climbed aboard, two on each mule, and hooked in their tethers. In a few moments the mules retreated back toward the Konstantin, half a kilometer away. As they did so, Tighe watched the Nicole Clarke.
Adisa’s voice came in over the comm link. “T minus ten, nine, eight . . .”
Tighe glanced across the top of his mule toward Morra. “We’ll need to end this countdown custom at some point.”
“I suppose you’re right. Think of all the time we’ll save. . . .”
They both turned to watch.
“. . . three, two, one—we have ignition.”
A silent cone of lavender flame sprayed out behind the Nicole Clarke.
Another cheer from the crew.
“C’mon, baby . . .”
Hinting at its mass, the ship at first slowly began to glide away, heading not toward the white dot of Earth but in the opposite direction—embarking on a winding two-and-a-half-year spiral that would eventually deliver it near Earth’s moon just the same.
They all watched the tug pull away and gather speed.
“Well, that’s a year and a half of work.”
“And a human life. Let’s hope it means something.”
* * *
—
Eight days later Tighe again stood on the running board of Mule 2. Jin and Morra clung to another mule a couple hundred meters away. Both craft headed toward the sunlit side of Ryugu. Chindarkar remotely piloted Jin and Morra’s mule, while Adisa piloted Tighe’s.
“What’s the weather look like today, Ade?”
Adisa’s voice came in over the comm line. “No solar flares predicted.”
The two mules crossed the terminator line half a klick above the surface, and suddenly they were bathed in sunlight. Tighe’s helmet software instantly dampened the Sun into a white ball. Up ahead he could see CRC’s robot mother ship, several kilometers off Ryugu’s dayside equator.
Tighe’s mule slowed to a stop as Morra and Jin continued, headed toward glittering debris. Tighe gave them the thumbs-up. “I’m close by if you need me.”
Morra and Jin gave him a thumbs-up in response.
Tighe used the optics in his helmet to follow their movements.
Jin’s voice came in on the radio. “I have marked the target. It is the one clamped to that mining rig. You see it, Priya?”
“I see it.”
The plan was to fix CRC’s maintenance robot so that it would fix all the other robots.
The mule popped thrusters and accelerated to match the velocity and trajectory of the entwined dead robots.
Tighe observed from a growing distance. “Ade, keep me close. I don’t want to be more than a hundred meters away.”
“I copy, J.T.”
Priya’s voice: “Ten meters out. Eight meters. Five meters.”
In Tighe’s zoomed optics, he saw bits of asteroid regolith and small mechanical parts spiral away as the mule’s robotic arms grabbed the tool booms of the dead maintenance rig. The three spacecraft now glided together 2 kilometers above Ryugu’s surface.
Tighe felt relief. “Nice flying, Priya.”
Morra and Jin pulled themselves along the running boards and toward the CRC robot. “Looks like the maintenance bot was trying a repair. It’s got the mining rig’s service panel open. I’m going to clean this regolith off before we continue.”
Jin and Morra each took out cans of delta-v and sprayed CO2 gas to clear away asteroid dust from the surface of the machines.
After several minutes of cleaning work, Morra began climbing over the white-painted aluminum surface of the maintenance rig, while Jin hung back on the mule. “A few dents here and there, but I think we can get it working.”
Morra stopped at the open side panel, consulted an AR schematic, and then withdrew a custom ratchet tool from his chest harness—tools printed from 3D models supplied by CRC engineers. Morra used the ratchet to unbolt an interior access panel on the maintenance robot. In a minute or so he had it open and kicked on his helmet lights.
“Yeah, the regolith is everywhere in here. You catching this on video?”
Abarca’s voice came over the comm link. “I have it. I’m sending the video to CRC’s engineers. It’ll be thirty minutes minimum until we get a response.”
“Copy that. Well, gents, smoke ’em if you got ’em.”
For the next forty-five minutes Tighe, Jin, and Morra gazed down at the surface of Ryugu and chatted idly. There wasn’t even a star field to see here on the sunlit side of the asteroid. Instead, Tighe zoomed his optics in on CRC’s mother ship and realized that its cameras were undoubtedly aimed straight back at them.
“How much you suppose Goff spent on that thing?”
“Five billion or so.”
“Cheapskate.”
Finally the CRC engineers sent word back.
Abarca’s voice came in over the comm link. “Dave, the engineers say you need to clean out the regolith and replace Control Boards 3, 5, and 6.”
“We waited for that? Bunch of geniuses, my arse . . .” Morra moved back toward the mule. “Confirm that CRC is beaming a lockout signal from the Argo.”
Abarca replied, “Stand by. It’ll take another thirty minutes for confirmation.”
Morra gazed at CRC’s distant mother ship. “I’ll get ready.” He took out a can of delta-v and started blasting CO2 through the interior of the spacecraft—blowing away the metallic asteroid dust.
Tighe watched Jin climb toward the maintenance bot’s rack of replacement parts.
Morra lowered his upper body into the service panel. “This stuff gets everywhere. . . .” He sprayed the interior.
What happened next occurred with inhuman speed. The maintenance robot suddenly sprang to life—its robotic limbs quickly inserting a control board into the open panel of the larger mining rig.
Tighe shouted, “Get out of there! It’s active!”
Then the mining rig suddenly sprang to life as well.
“Abort!” Jin clambered to pull Morra from the service bay as the maintenance bot undocked from the mining craft, its thrusters popping. The mule was still clamped onto its hull.
Chindarkar shouted, “Grab the mule!”
The larger mining rig’s scanners swept over the mule, and it popped thrusters to close the short distance to it. Large robotic arms seized the mule’s cargo rack, and its mining laser stabbed blinding red light as it sliced through Jin’s tether on its way to process the mule’s metal. The maintenance bot’s thrusters popped as it tried to free itself from the mule—hurtling Jin into space and down toward the surface of the asteroid.
“Han!” Tighe shouted. “Ade, go after him!”
Tighe’s mule popped thrusters to pursue Jin, who was now tumbling down toward the distant surface of Ryugu. Tighe glanced back behind him.
The mining rig wrestled with Chindarkar’s mule as their robotic arms intertwined. The mining robot’s red laser burned at its maw. Morra, meanwhile, held on to the mule’s running board.
Abarca’s voice: “Priya! Abort!”
“I’m trying to break free! It’s got the mule.”
Tighe looked ahead at Jin and then back at Morra.
Morra’s voice came in over the comm link. “J.T., get Han! We’ve got this!”
Tighe reluctantly turned forward again and concentrated on the tumbling orange form of Jin 100 meters ahead. Tighe’s crystal display indicated they were just over 1,700 meters off the cratered, ashen surface of Ryugu now, and closing fast. “Han! I’m coming for you.”
He could see Jin’s SAFER harness pop thrusters, and with remarkable skill Jin managed to dampen his tumble—but before he could diminish his descent speed, the thrusters were empty. Jin’s voice came in: “J.T.! Turn back. You cannot reach me in time.”
They were now 1,300 meters above the surface.
“You know I’m bad at physics, Han. Faster, Ade!”
Adisa replied, “J.T. He is right. The mule will not have the delta-v to pull out of this trajectory in time. We must slow our descent.”
“Listen to him, J.T.!”
Morra’s voice came in over the comm link. He was panting and grunting as he spoke. “Priya, take over J.T.’s mule! No offense, Ade, but she’s a more skilled pilot.”
In moments Tighe saw Adisa log off and Chindarkar log on as the pilot of his mule. “Priya, bring me as close as you can.”
“Hold on.”
The asteroid surface loomed 800 meters below as they closed on Jin. He was still 50 meters away. Then 30. Then 10.
Jin shouted over the radio, “Abort this rescue! You will lose the mule and your life!”
“Reverse thrusters, Priya!” Tighe pushed off from the mule—which was now only a few hundred meters above Ryugu. Jin faced him, arms outstretched. Tighe hurtled downward, his tether trailing behind him. Tighe tried not to notice the surface looming behind Jin. They grabbed each other, and the moment they did, they both fumbled to hook one of Jin’s carabiners onto Tighe’s harness.
Jin clicked in.
Suddenly the tether snapped taut—and they both bounced like a locket at the end of a chain as the mule’s thrusters buffeted them. “Climb, Priya! Climb!”
The surface of the asteroid was less than 200 meters away now.
Tighe looked up to see that Chindarkar was riding the mule’s rear thrusters—accelerating them forward as well as in reverse. They were headed toward the asteroid’s equatorial ridge. Now the surface closed in even faster. “What are you doing?”
Her voice came in over the comm link. “It’s the only way! We’re not going to have much left in the tank if we make this.”
Tighe and Jin looked down at the ashen surface rising to meet them. Their forward velocity was increasing. They both looked ahead and could see the ridgeline approaching. They were hanging 10 meters below the mule as it raced above the surface, still pulling out of its dive.
“Three countries have landed on the Moon. An international Mars mission is being prepared. Do you really think a brief flurry of media attention will replace the money we’d make from our mining bonus? How much are we sending back on this shipment, Ade?”
Adisa tapped at invisible screens. “About 720 tons of water, 120 tons of ammonia, 140 tons of nitrogen, 40 tons of iron carbonyl, 36 tons of nickel carbonyl, and 26 tons of cobalt carbonyl. A bit over a thousand tons total.”
“A thousand tons. That’s worth a hell of a lot in a lunar DRO. And that’s just our first year. Remember all the problems we’ve solved since then. Our machines are working twenty-four/seven now. We could triple or quadruple that output in the next twelve months.”
“That is optimistic, but—”
“Possible. It’s possible, Ade. Our contract guarantees six million each—plus production bonuses, and at this rate, that means tens of millions per person. Maybe more. Now, I didn’t go through all this just to have my daughters’ inheritance erased by some bankruptcy judge back on Earth.”
Tighe and the others considered Morra’s argument. “What’s to say Joyce will honor our agreement?”
Morra folded his arms. “I think Joyce wants to prove the other Titans wrong—above all. And he does that by making this a successful business. I say we keep our eyes on the prize and go fix Goff’s robots. But I do think we demand payment for it.”
Abarca stared at Morra—but she appeared to be considering his argument.
Chindarkar balked. “You can’t be serious.”
Jin also looked surprised. “I would not have expected you to argue Joyce’s case.”
“I’m not doing it for Joyce. I’m doing it for us.”
Adisa flipped through the virtual technical manuals. “Repairing these systems will be too complex for telepresence. That means several EVAs—amid orbiting debris.”
Tighe nodded. “Ade’s right, and those would be long-distance EVAs—the longest we’ve done so far. At least 8 or 9 kilometers away from the Konstantin.”
Morra considered this. “We could use mules to tow the dead robots back here.”
Abarca shook her head. “Oh no. We don’t want those things anywhere near the Konstantin. Who knows what they’ll do when they reactivate.”
“Well, what do you propose, Isabel? If we sit here and do nothing, Goff wrecks everything we’ve worked for. We’ll be famous back on Earth. Whoopee—a free drink in every bar. Do you really want to go back to Earth empty-handed? I don’t.”
Tsukada said, “Surely we wouldn’t lose everything if Joyce went bankrupt.”
“Let’s not find out. Joyce may seem bad, but he’s the devil we know. He built this ship, and it has kept us alive. His creditors? Who the hell knows?”
Chindarkar asked, “What’s to stop Goff from revealing us after we fix his robots?”
Abarca shook her head. “No, Goff has to know we could easily sabotage his mining operation. We’re here. He’s not. He has too much to lose by betraying us.”
Morra pointed. “Exactly. Which means we should do this.” He looked around the table. “I volunteer. No one else has to go.”
Jin shook his head. “It is against procedure. I will go with you.”
Tighe added, “I’ll go, too—in case you need rescue.”
Abarca intervened. “We don’t even have a plan.” She looked to Adisa. “Ade, finish reviewing those CRC tech manuals. When you’re ready, we’ll get their engineers on the line. Let’s have the minimum number of crew involved, and we turn back at the first sign of trouble.”
Morra, Jin, and Tighe exchanged looks and nodded.
“In the meantime, let’s make sure our first return shipment departs on schedule.”
JUNE 10, 2035
Tighe floated in his EVA suit, tethered to the rim of a large metallic solar shield. The 25-meter-diameter shield was actually an inflatable polymer shell with a metallic film applied to its leading surface via chemical vapor deposition. It formed the prow of a newly built spacecraft that gleamed beneath the LED work lights of a mule hovering nearby.
Next to Tighe floated Isabel Abarca and David Morra. To the other side of Abarca floated Jin Han. It was the first time all four clam suits had been in use at once and Abarca’s first EVA since the Konstantin arrived a year and a half earlier. Company policy stated that the ship’s surgeon should remain on board the Konstantin unless absolutely necessary. However, today was necessarily historic.
The four of them floated alongside the words “Nicole Clarke,” stenciled in meter-high gray letters. They’d named the vessel in honor of their friend and former captain.
Behind the solar shield the Nicole Clarke consisted of a latticework of printed polymer girders containing a ring of half a dozen 7-meter spherical bladder tanks, each filled with 180,000 liters of various resources—water ice, liquid nitrogen, or ammonia. In the gaps between the large tanks were another half a dozen small ones, each containing 14,000 liters of various carbonyls. A seventh large tank occupied the center of the ring, supplying fuel to the single methalox rocket engine mounted within a girder framework at the back of the ship.
Over the last several months Tighe, Jin, and Morra had unstepped one of the Konstantin’s engines and installed it on the Nicole Clarke. The task required hundreds of man-hours and close attention to AR-guided instructional videos, plus numerous consultations with mission control engineers back on Earth. However, the engine was eventually mounted, and with Tsukada’s and Chindarkar’s assistance, custom piping, valves, fuel pumps, cold-gas thrusters, solar panels, and circuitry were fashioned to complete the robotic tug based on a CAD plan transmitted by Catalyst managers. Once the tug’s OS was loaded and diagnostics run, mission control declared it ready for use.
Barely 5 percent of the Konstantin’s length, the Nicole Clarke was nonetheless twice the Konstantin’s mass. However, since only 412 meters per second of delta-v was needed to depart Ryugu for cislunar space on this date, one lone rocket engine and a single large fuel tank would suffice to propel it homeward. Software would manage its journey.
Tighe and the others posed, arm in arm, near the tug’s name, each of them making a thumbs-up gesture with their heavily padded gloves.
Chindarkar took several images with the mule’s cameras.
Adisa’s voice said, “We have just received a message from mission control—it is Nathan Joyce. Gabriel would like us to play it before the launch.”
The four miners on EVA exchanged annoyed looks.
Abarca nodded. “All right, let’s hear it, Ade.”
Moments later Joyce’s voice came in over the comm link. “Today is an historic day—the launch of humanity’s first ship returning space-mined resources back toward our home world. A ship that is itself mostly fashioned from resources mined in space. What you’ve achieved is the realization of a long-held dream—and proof that humanity has a future in the cosmos. Nicole Clarke would be proud to know this historic vessel bears her name.”
Tighe muttered, “Hopefully people back on Earth learn about her someday.”
Joyce continued. “Congratulations to each and every one of you. Launch the Nicole Clarke whenever you are ready.”
With that Tighe passed a snowball-sized white plastic sphere to Abarca. “Care to do the honors?”
She took the object into her hands. “What’s this?”
“We can’t christen a ship with champagne out here, so Amy put together a polymer shell filled with liquid nitrogen.”
“I throw it onto the hull?”
“When you’re ready.”
Abarca wound up her pitch. “I christen this vessel the Nicole Clarke. May she find her way safely home.” With that Abarca hurled the object at the solar shield.
On impact the egg-thin shell shattered, dispersing the liquid out into space.
The crew cheered.
Tighe turned to see two mules coming in to retrieve them, remotely piloted by Chindarkar and Adisa. The miners climbed aboard, two on each mule, and hooked in their tethers. In a few moments the mules retreated back toward the Konstantin, half a kilometer away. As they did so, Tighe watched the Nicole Clarke.
Adisa’s voice came in over the comm link. “T minus ten, nine, eight . . .”
Tighe glanced across the top of his mule toward Morra. “We’ll need to end this countdown custom at some point.”
“I suppose you’re right. Think of all the time we’ll save. . . .”
They both turned to watch.
“. . . three, two, one—we have ignition.”
A silent cone of lavender flame sprayed out behind the Nicole Clarke.
Another cheer from the crew.
“C’mon, baby . . .”
Hinting at its mass, the ship at first slowly began to glide away, heading not toward the white dot of Earth but in the opposite direction—embarking on a winding two-and-a-half-year spiral that would eventually deliver it near Earth’s moon just the same.
They all watched the tug pull away and gather speed.
“Well, that’s a year and a half of work.”
“And a human life. Let’s hope it means something.”
* * *
—
Eight days later Tighe again stood on the running board of Mule 2. Jin and Morra clung to another mule a couple hundred meters away. Both craft headed toward the sunlit side of Ryugu. Chindarkar remotely piloted Jin and Morra’s mule, while Adisa piloted Tighe’s.
“What’s the weather look like today, Ade?”
Adisa’s voice came in over the comm line. “No solar flares predicted.”
The two mules crossed the terminator line half a klick above the surface, and suddenly they were bathed in sunlight. Tighe’s helmet software instantly dampened the Sun into a white ball. Up ahead he could see CRC’s robot mother ship, several kilometers off Ryugu’s dayside equator.
Tighe’s mule slowed to a stop as Morra and Jin continued, headed toward glittering debris. Tighe gave them the thumbs-up. “I’m close by if you need me.”
Morra and Jin gave him a thumbs-up in response.
Tighe used the optics in his helmet to follow their movements.
Jin’s voice came in on the radio. “I have marked the target. It is the one clamped to that mining rig. You see it, Priya?”
“I see it.”
The plan was to fix CRC’s maintenance robot so that it would fix all the other robots.
The mule popped thrusters and accelerated to match the velocity and trajectory of the entwined dead robots.
Tighe observed from a growing distance. “Ade, keep me close. I don’t want to be more than a hundred meters away.”
“I copy, J.T.”
Priya’s voice: “Ten meters out. Eight meters. Five meters.”
In Tighe’s zoomed optics, he saw bits of asteroid regolith and small mechanical parts spiral away as the mule’s robotic arms grabbed the tool booms of the dead maintenance rig. The three spacecraft now glided together 2 kilometers above Ryugu’s surface.
Tighe felt relief. “Nice flying, Priya.”
Morra and Jin pulled themselves along the running boards and toward the CRC robot. “Looks like the maintenance bot was trying a repair. It’s got the mining rig’s service panel open. I’m going to clean this regolith off before we continue.”
Jin and Morra each took out cans of delta-v and sprayed CO2 gas to clear away asteroid dust from the surface of the machines.
After several minutes of cleaning work, Morra began climbing over the white-painted aluminum surface of the maintenance rig, while Jin hung back on the mule. “A few dents here and there, but I think we can get it working.”
Morra stopped at the open side panel, consulted an AR schematic, and then withdrew a custom ratchet tool from his chest harness—tools printed from 3D models supplied by CRC engineers. Morra used the ratchet to unbolt an interior access panel on the maintenance robot. In a minute or so he had it open and kicked on his helmet lights.
“Yeah, the regolith is everywhere in here. You catching this on video?”
Abarca’s voice came over the comm link. “I have it. I’m sending the video to CRC’s engineers. It’ll be thirty minutes minimum until we get a response.”
“Copy that. Well, gents, smoke ’em if you got ’em.”
For the next forty-five minutes Tighe, Jin, and Morra gazed down at the surface of Ryugu and chatted idly. There wasn’t even a star field to see here on the sunlit side of the asteroid. Instead, Tighe zoomed his optics in on CRC’s mother ship and realized that its cameras were undoubtedly aimed straight back at them.
“How much you suppose Goff spent on that thing?”
“Five billion or so.”
“Cheapskate.”
Finally the CRC engineers sent word back.
Abarca’s voice came in over the comm link. “Dave, the engineers say you need to clean out the regolith and replace Control Boards 3, 5, and 6.”
“We waited for that? Bunch of geniuses, my arse . . .” Morra moved back toward the mule. “Confirm that CRC is beaming a lockout signal from the Argo.”
Abarca replied, “Stand by. It’ll take another thirty minutes for confirmation.”
Morra gazed at CRC’s distant mother ship. “I’ll get ready.” He took out a can of delta-v and started blasting CO2 through the interior of the spacecraft—blowing away the metallic asteroid dust.
Tighe watched Jin climb toward the maintenance bot’s rack of replacement parts.
Morra lowered his upper body into the service panel. “This stuff gets everywhere. . . .” He sprayed the interior.
What happened next occurred with inhuman speed. The maintenance robot suddenly sprang to life—its robotic limbs quickly inserting a control board into the open panel of the larger mining rig.
Tighe shouted, “Get out of there! It’s active!”
Then the mining rig suddenly sprang to life as well.
“Abort!” Jin clambered to pull Morra from the service bay as the maintenance bot undocked from the mining craft, its thrusters popping. The mule was still clamped onto its hull.
Chindarkar shouted, “Grab the mule!”
The larger mining rig’s scanners swept over the mule, and it popped thrusters to close the short distance to it. Large robotic arms seized the mule’s cargo rack, and its mining laser stabbed blinding red light as it sliced through Jin’s tether on its way to process the mule’s metal. The maintenance bot’s thrusters popped as it tried to free itself from the mule—hurtling Jin into space and down toward the surface of the asteroid.
“Han!” Tighe shouted. “Ade, go after him!”
Tighe’s mule popped thrusters to pursue Jin, who was now tumbling down toward the distant surface of Ryugu. Tighe glanced back behind him.
The mining rig wrestled with Chindarkar’s mule as their robotic arms intertwined. The mining robot’s red laser burned at its maw. Morra, meanwhile, held on to the mule’s running board.
Abarca’s voice: “Priya! Abort!”
“I’m trying to break free! It’s got the mule.”
Tighe looked ahead at Jin and then back at Morra.
Morra’s voice came in over the comm link. “J.T., get Han! We’ve got this!”
Tighe reluctantly turned forward again and concentrated on the tumbling orange form of Jin 100 meters ahead. Tighe’s crystal display indicated they were just over 1,700 meters off the cratered, ashen surface of Ryugu now, and closing fast. “Han! I’m coming for you.”
He could see Jin’s SAFER harness pop thrusters, and with remarkable skill Jin managed to dampen his tumble—but before he could diminish his descent speed, the thrusters were empty. Jin’s voice came in: “J.T.! Turn back. You cannot reach me in time.”
They were now 1,300 meters above the surface.
“You know I’m bad at physics, Han. Faster, Ade!”
Adisa replied, “J.T. He is right. The mule will not have the delta-v to pull out of this trajectory in time. We must slow our descent.”
“Listen to him, J.T.!”
Morra’s voice came in over the comm link. He was panting and grunting as he spoke. “Priya, take over J.T.’s mule! No offense, Ade, but she’s a more skilled pilot.”
In moments Tighe saw Adisa log off and Chindarkar log on as the pilot of his mule. “Priya, bring me as close as you can.”
“Hold on.”
The asteroid surface loomed 800 meters below as they closed on Jin. He was still 50 meters away. Then 30. Then 10.
Jin shouted over the radio, “Abort this rescue! You will lose the mule and your life!”
“Reverse thrusters, Priya!” Tighe pushed off from the mule—which was now only a few hundred meters above Ryugu. Jin faced him, arms outstretched. Tighe hurtled downward, his tether trailing behind him. Tighe tried not to notice the surface looming behind Jin. They grabbed each other, and the moment they did, they both fumbled to hook one of Jin’s carabiners onto Tighe’s harness.
Jin clicked in.
Suddenly the tether snapped taut—and they both bounced like a locket at the end of a chain as the mule’s thrusters buffeted them. “Climb, Priya! Climb!”
The surface of the asteroid was less than 200 meters away now.
Tighe looked up to see that Chindarkar was riding the mule’s rear thrusters—accelerating them forward as well as in reverse. They were headed toward the asteroid’s equatorial ridge. Now the surface closed in even faster. “What are you doing?”
Her voice came in over the comm link. “It’s the only way! We’re not going to have much left in the tank if we make this.”
Tighe and Jin looked down at the ashen surface rising to meet them. Their forward velocity was increasing. They both looked ahead and could see the ridgeline approaching. They were hanging 10 meters below the mule as it raced above the surface, still pulling out of its dive.
