Back to the Moon-ARC

“If you change your mind, let me know.” Tony pushed away from him and over to Ming, who was still unconscious. Before they had reduced the air pressure in the cabin, he had seemed to be getting stronger. But for the last day or so there had been no change in his condition. Tony checked the pressurized intravenous-fluid bag, and it seemed to be functioning without any problems. He checked his other vitals, including his heart rate, temperature, and blood pressure. He then did a pupil-response test and seemed to see some improvement there.

Once Tony was sure he couldn’t do anything else for the patient, he moved on to the command area, where he and Bill sat. Hui was in his seat, talking with Bill.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Oh, Tony, excuse me.” Hui started to unbuckle herself from his seat.

“No, no. Don’t get up. I’m gonna float around awhile,” Tony told her. “Anything new happening?”

“No,” Bill answered. “We were just chatting about what we say happened up here.”

“What do you mean?” Tony was confused.

“We cannot tell the world that a taikonaut fired a handgun aboard the spaceship, nearly killing us all and at least severely wounding one of us,” Hui answered. “It would not only be bad for the Chinese space program, but it would be bad for everybody.”

“I agree with Hui on this, Tony. We need to get our story straight with NASA and the Chinese ambassador before we get on the ground and there are video cameras on us from every which way.” Bill sipped something that appeared to be coffee from his squeeze bottle and let out a sigh. “This is a mess, and I’m sure mission control will support our story. And any video that exists showing the, um, outburst will be kept locked up and away from the press.”

“I see,” Tony said. “Well, it is my opinion that Zhi has PTSD. I’ve seen the look before. Were he and Ming close?”

“PTSD?” Hui asked.

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Tony explained.

“Yes. I agree,” Hui said.

“None of that matters. The story must be that we had systems malfunctions or there was an accident from the modifications we did on the Altair that caused our problems.” Bill was adamant about the fact that astronauts didn’t cause the problem. That had been a philosophy of NASA’s since the Apollo era. The astronauts were heroes and couldn’t do anything wrong. Oh, there had been a few glitches here and there that were hard to overlook, but for the most part the astronaut image was protected as best it could be.

“Xu might want to press charges. I might myself, but I understand what you’re saying.” Tony steadied himself against the console and stretched as best he could. “Above my pay grade. I think I’ll Velcro myself to a bulkhead and take a nap. If you two figure out my story, let me know.”

“Good night, then.” Hui smiled at him. “I’m certain those above our pay grade, as you say, will tell us what to say.”

“Let me know if you need me,” Tony said.

There was only about thirty minutes left before the Dreamscape and the Orion would be in docking range. Bill had been in constant conversation with Houston and Captain Gesling for a good while. The systems checks had been plodded through twice already. There was very little to do but wait. Bill hated waiting. He’d been doing enough waiting on this mission. They needed to get hooked up and get the injured crew members in a hospital. He also had a few reservations about the docking hatch on top of the Orion. It wasn’t all that far from where the aerocapture damage was. Bill tried not to think about that. He hoped they wouldn’t need to suit up again, but if the docking hatch wouldn’t open, they’d all have to suit up and go out the main hatch, if they could get it open, and EVA to the Dreamscape. Whatever they had to do, Bill assured himself that they would do it.

“Mercy I, Houston, over.”

“Go ahead, Houston,” Bill replied.

“We’re looking good, and we need to start bringing the pressure up slowly,” Houston said.

“Roger that, Houston. Time to start the pressure recovery.” Bill started up the sequence to bring the air back up to a full atmospheric pressure level within the cabin. Otherwise, there would be too big of a pressure differential between the two spaceships when they docked, and they wouldn’t be able to get the doors open.

There was just enough air left in the Orion for a day at low pressure or about eight hours at full pressure. The plan that NASA had come up with to keep enough oxygen in the cabin until help could arrive had worked out with a little margin to spare. Fortunately for all of them, America had spawned a private space program that could be ready as quickly as it had been.

“Mercy I, this is Dreamscape, over.”

“Go ahead, Dreamscape,” Bill replied.

“I’ve got a visual on you, Mercy I,” Paul Gesling announced. “My clock shows twenty minutes and counting. Do you see me?”

“Tony?” Bill nudged Tony awake with an elbow. “We’re on, buddy. Look out your side for the Dreamscape.”

“I’m looking,” Tony said as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “I don’t see anything yet.”

“Wait, there it is. I see a glint over there.” Bill pointed out his window. “Dreamscape, we see you.” Bill said that loud enough for everybody to hear. There wasn’t a sound made in the cabin. He was sure he could hear six hearts pounding with anxiety.

The next twenty-six minutes went by very slowly as the crew of Orion watched. The Dreamscape docking mechanism was on the starboard side just aft of the wings and on top of the fuselage of the vehicle. The docking ring of the Orion was on the nose. The two ships inched closer and closer together, nose to midsection. Finally, the onboard lidar locked the two spacecraft docking rings in the computer control system and the automated program took over the thrusters.