Comet Riders — Part Two

Saving the Ice Station

The Year 10,779 of Life — Deep Space

Gray-rock sat idly at the controls of his Lancer spacecraft. The three week mission was coming to a close. His mind was drifting from the massive ice block, floating in space, to a night of general carousing aboard the Ice Station.

Bringing the focus of his mind back to his task, he glanced at the cubic-mile of ice through his vision screen. The dazzling white object had been cut from a comet a year earlier. The remaining, larger cometary fragment had been boosted back into a high, safe orbit around Helos.

Turning his attention to the ship’s displays, he studied the positions of the four Lancers and three space tugs maneuvering the cube of frozen water that had been undisturbed since the creation of Helos, Layall, and the other four planets, more than four billion years ago.

“Is everyone ready for final approach?” The team commander’s voice crackled over the radio. Soft-petal’s question was unnecessary; she could clearly see that the small flotilla of spaceships was correctly positioned to slip the mammoth ice cube into the Ice Station’s receiving bay.

The team members echoed their readiness.

While certainly a tricky maneuver, this was the third time they had brought in a fragment of cosmic ice. The Ice Station was a mile and a half in diameter and four miles long. It could hold a fourth such ice cube. However, Gray-rock had never been told why they were collecting these fragments left over from the days of creation.

“Sandstone, do you see that?” Bird’s-eye, in the adjacent Lancer, strained to suppress the sudden excitement from his voice.

“Roger that, I see it.” Gray-rock responded calmly to his friend’s use of one of many nicknames.

What the two men saw was a fissure forming along one corner of the white cube. Technicians had ultrasonically scanned the object and declared it to be a single solid mass. But, there was the fissure. Gray-rock could see a chip, a quarter-mile long, and several hundred feet thick, was about to separate from the main body.

The three space tugs were using their gravity engines to hold the cube by the other end. The fragment would soon be floating free. It would not be decelerated as the tugs pulled the block into the receiving bay.

“What’s happening” Soft-petal asked.

Gray-rock saw that, in a few minutes, the fragment would crash into the Ice Station. Slow moving as it was, it was massive, and its momentum would crush one side of the Ice Station. He saw no time to discuss the issue.

“Stand back, I got this,” he responded, to the team commander.

The Lancer was a jack-of-all-trades utility spacecraft. While not nearly as powerful as a space tug, the Lancer was equipped with both a gravity engine and a hydrogen fusion torch thruster. However, the torch engine was not to be used in close proximity to an inhabited station; therefore, it had not been warmed up for this maneuver.

Gray-rock’s fingers flew over the control panel as he initiated the emergency warm-up procedure. Bypassing all safety interlocks, he ordered the computer to light the engine at the earliest possible moment. Simultaneously, he engaged his maneuvering thrusters to position the Lancer inside the crack forming along the fissure. He slid the small spacecraft between the fragment and the main ice body.

“What are you doing?” the commander asked.

Again, Gray-rock did not take the time to explain. He used the gravity engine to grip the now free-floating ice chip.

“Just so you know, there’s a cargo ship and a Royal yacht docked with the Ice Station. They are directly in your path,” Bird’s-eye warned, in an eerily calm voice.

“Roger that.” Gray-rock watched the readout indicating the temperature of the hydrogen plasma forming in the magnetic chamber of the fusion torch. Another thirty seconds should do it, he thought to himself. “Just stay back,” he cautioned the team, “I’m going to light up.” He rotated the Lancer until the torch exhaust was directed toward the main ice block. He wasn’t sure exactly what the radiation and fusion exhaust would do to it, but it was only ice.

His pulse pounded, echoing in his ears, as he counted the seconds. Gray-rock had no idea how close he was to the rim of the Ice Station. He had no idea how much time remained before the inevitable collision. The instant the plasma temperature reached the minimum hydrogen fusion point, he stabbed his finger into the torch ignition control. However, the computer had already ignited the plasma in response to his earlier command. The intense beam of gamma radiation and helium exhaust burst from the torch engine. Although he had set the thrust level to maximum, the slowly warming engine produced only 20% of its rated thrust. Helplessly, Gray-rock watched the vector of the ice fragment drift sideways with agonizingly slow acceleration.

“Brother,” Bird’s-eye said, “you have impact in thirty-two seconds.”

Gray-rock watched the plasma temperature increase and the thrust inch up to 30%.

“Roger that,” he said, hanging onto the hope he would succeed in pushing the ice chip away from the Ice Station and the two docked space craft.

As the plasma temperature continued to rise, the hydrogen fusion process in the magnetic chamber became more efficient; the thrust from the torch engine increased.

The torch exhaust, hotter than the surface of Helos, was melting a hole in the main ice block. Powerful as it was, the exhaust was not likely to affect the trajectory of the ice block — it was just too massive. However, steam filled the gap between the fragment and the block, blinding Gray-rock’s ship’s sensors.

“I’m flying blind,” he announced into the microphone. “Bird’s-eye, keep me posted.”

“Roger that. For better or for worse, you will have to shut down the torch in fifteen seconds.”

In his mind’s eye, Gray-rock envisioned the main ice block sliding into the receiving collar while his Lancer and the fragment edged away.

“Five — four — three…” Gray-rock positioned his finger over the torch cutoff control as Bird’s-eye relayed the countdown. “Two — one — shut down!”

Gray-rock touched the control. The magnetic bubble collapsed, venting the hot plasma. The torch sputtered and fell silent.

“How does it look?” he asked.

Bird’s-eye was silent for several long seconds. “Uh, the ice fragment is going to miss the ring, but you need to move your ass or you’ll collide with the Royal yacht in a minute or so.”

Without the heat from the torch, the steam surrounding the Lancer quickly dissipated into the vacuum of space. Gray-rock saw the approaching spacecraft docked to the outside ring around the Ice Station. He disengaged his gravity engine to release the Lancer’s hold on the ice fragment. Firing the maneuvering thrusters, he pushed the Lancer to the side of the yacht.

Gray-rock watched the beautiful spacecraft slide past his view screen. He had never seen a Royal yacht before. Suddenly, he wondered, Why is the Royal Family of Life way out here?

With the catastrophe averted, Gray-rock exhaled. It seemed as though he had been holding his breath for the past ten minutes. He sucked in a fresh breath and stared at his shaking hands. He unsuccessfully attempted to will his fingers into control.

“Brother, are you all right?”

Bird’s-eye’s radio signal focused Gray-rock’s thoughts. He studied his displays for a long moment until the information coalesced in his mind as meaningful data. His Lancer was drifting away from the Ice Station. With the main ice block secured in the receiving ring, two of the space tugs were in pursuit of the fragment, which was also drifting away.

Gray-rock considered that they should just let it go; it wasn’t going to damage anything now.

“Oylo, Gray-rock, are you with me?” Bird’s-eye’s use of his actual name told Gray-rock his friend had become genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, brother,” Gray-rock answered. He drew a breath and released it. He faked the sound of a yawn into the microphone. “Just taking a bit of a power nap before tonight’s festivities.” However, the adrenaline still surged through his body, and his hands were still shaking.

“Ah, that’s great, Rock-hound, look here — your vector is a little off. How about squaring things up and meeting me at the docking port?”

Gray-rock again attempted to make sense of his displays.

“Look here, brother, I seem to be low on maneuvering fuel. Can you give me a push?”

“No sweat, no sweat, just sit tight, and I’ll lock-on to you.”

A minute later, Gray-rock felt the nudge as the gravity engine from Bird’s-eye’s Lancer gripped his own spacecraft. He relaxed and steadied his breaths as the drift slowed, and then reversed. Ten minutes later, the docking collars were visible through this viewport. The three-dimensional display showed the other three Lancers were all standing off, waiting for him to dock first.

“Thanks for the tow, my brother. I got a vector on the dock now. Give me the stick, and I’ll take her in.” Gray-rock insisted on docking under his own power.

“Roger that.” Gray-rock felt the slight jar as Bird’s-eye released his gravity engine’s hold. “You’ve got the stick.”

Once the Lancer’s docking collar was solidly connected to that of the Ice Station, Gray-rock systematically shut down all of the Lancer’s systems. The adrenaline induced buzzing in his ears had subsided by the time he was ready to exit his ship.

The Lancer had no air-lock. The hatch operation indicator revealed that the crew of the Ice Station had already opened the door on their side of the docking collar. Gray-rock equalized the air pressure between the Lancer’s cabin and the Ice Station. He opened the hatch and floated across the threshold.

The small room of the docking bay was crowded with men and women. They all cheered as Gray-rock stepped from the weightless zone to the body of the Ice Station and its artificial gravity. He felt the familiar, but always unsettling jolt to his innards as his body made the adjustment from weightlessness to gravity.

The crowd absorbed Gray-rock as though a single living entity. The cheers deafened him. His back was quickly sore for the frequent slaps on his shoulders. He was unable to focus on any specific face or voice until the team commander appeared. The crowd parted, allowing Soft-petal to approach Gray-rock. She reached forward and vigorously shook his hand.

“Great job, Gray-rock,” she said. “Get cleaned up, have a couple of drinks, and we’ll talk more.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

But, that was not what happened. The crowd of his mates surged into the main concourse of the Ice Station, carrying him with it. Gray-rock, Bird’s-eye, and most of the other comet riding team members were still in their flight suits when they flowed into the Crew’s Nest Saloon. Instantly, Gray-rock had a mug of beer in each hand. He began telling the adventure for the first of innumerable times to come.

THE END of Part Two

Part Three, The Plan to rescue Layall is formulated

Copyright ©2023 by S. M. Revolinski All Rights Reserved

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