J McKenna: Slave Planet

The team got dressed in their bulky spacesuits. The backpacks wouldn’t be needed—just a spare oxygen bottle was carried in case the pod’s system failed. That meant, of course, the women couldn’t urinate in the suits.

“Be sure and pee before you go, gals, ‘cause we aren’t stopping at a gas station on the way,” joked Greta.

Beth packed her medical kit behind her seat. Kate and Ally helped the team into the pod. Greta in front, Jorja behind her and Beth taking up the rear seat. The commanders helped strap them in and connect their hoses to the ship’s air-conditioning and oxygen supplies. When they were ready for the helmets, Kate paused to grip Greta’s shoulder. With a nod of her head, Kate indicated the other pod, sitting on the other side of the chamber. “Be very careful. Don’t make us come down there and get you, OK?”

Greta nodded, the bravado scared out of her as the launch approached. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll make America proud of us.”

Kate nodded, then eased the helmet over the woman’s head. Once all were locked down and gave the thumbs up, Kate and Ally lowered the long canopy. They left the launch chamber, dogging down the door carefully behind them.

Making their way forward, they lowered themselves into the bridge chairs and checked the radio. “ Letanya calling Eagle One, can you read me?”

“Roger, Letanya . Loud and clear.”

“Prepare for launch sequence.”

Kate checked the board. Everything seemed clear. She looked over at Ally. She nodded. Kate pressed the button to launch countdown.

Inside the pod, the women sat rigid. The experience reminded Beth of waiting for the roller coaster ride to start. Only this one had no rails or safety nets. The air whooshed out of the chamber. The bay door slid open noiselessly beneath them. They were too confined to peek at the planet below. They hung there, over nothingness, held only by the launch grappler.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

Greta ran through her procedures, trying to ignore her fear. This is my big test , she told herself. Don’t blow it.

“Pod released.” The away team felt the sickening lurch as the grappler pushed the pod clear of the ship, then released it. The pod drifted down for a few seconds, then the main engine kicked in, rocketing them toward the rim of the planet.

Kate and Ally watched their trajectory. “On course. End burn in six seconds.” She counted down. “End burn.”

Greta cut the engine, keeping an eye on their position. It was critical to enter the atmosphere at precisely the right angle. Too flat and they’d skip off and have to abort the mission. Too steep and they’d burn up before they reached thicker air.

Greta let the computer steer the craft. Her turn would come soon enough. In seconds, they felt the first vibrations from the thickening atmosphere.

“Entering atmosphere. About to lose radio contact.”

“Roger. See you on the other side,” Kate responded. This would be the most nerve-wrenching part of the trip. They would have to wait to see if they made it.

Sparks flew up outside the canopy. The ride became rougher. The women hung on, praying silently that all of NASA’s engineering prowess would be enough to keep them alive for the trip.

The outside was a whirl of sparks, heat, and gas. Beth turned up her suit’s air conditioning to full and watched the temperature gauge inside the shuttle climb even as she felt cooler.

The trip through the upper atmosphere took just nine minutes, but it seemed like an hour to the away team. Finally, they noticed a lessening of the heat wave outside, then blue sky and clouds.

“— anya , come in, Eagle One,” burst through their headphones.

“Eagle One here, Letanya . All systems go.” Greta replied coolly, as if she did this sort of thing every day.

“Good to hear your voice. You are on track for landing.”

The pod was still in daylight here. As they fell and the planet rotated under them, they would soon enter the darkest part of the night. With luck, they could glide in to a dead-stick landing and not need retro-rockets at all.

Right now, the pod was a hot brick falling from a great height. Greta counted down the time to deploy the wing extensions. “Deploying wings,” she radioed. The extensions folded out smoothly. The ship began behaving more like a plane now. Greta banked it back and forth slightly, getting the feel of it. Behind her, Beth and Jorja blanched.

“Watch for turbulence below thirty thousand feet,” Kate radioed.

Greta checked her altimeter. Thirty six thousand and falling. She checked her course and speed. A little fast, but not too bad. Down, down they flew, the clouds swirling around them.

The first turbulence hit them like a fist, jerking them in their seats. The power of the wind startled the mission commander. She had experienced many rough rides before, but this was sudden and severe. Beth felt a warm splash of urine soak her panties. You’re scaring the piss out of me, Greta!

Grimly, Greta set her jaw and hung on to the controls. More air blasts jerked them around. They drifted off course, and Greta correctly immediately, pleased that the pod responded quickly.

“Eagle One, watch your heading. Your speed is dropping as well.”

“Roger, Letanya . We’re rocking and rolling down here.” Greta wished the captain would leave her alone for a few minutes.

Kate was worried. “This turbulence is worse than we thought,” she told Ally. The commander just nodded. There was nothing that could be said.

Greta watched the altimeter: Twenty thousand, fifteen thousand. Come on, baby! Let’s get through this! Another big jolt rocked them and Greta was shocked to see a red light flash on her console. The forward thruster was offline! She thumbed the diagnostics switch and held her breath, hoping the problem was a bad relay or display light. The light went yellow for a few seconds, then returned to red. “Damn!”

“Eagle One, Eagle One. We see a red light here. Confirm.”

“Roger, Letanya , we’ve lost forward thrusters. Will compensate.”

Kate didn’t like it. Losing the forward retro-rocket meant the pod could not be slowed except by raising the nose. And that would lengthen the glide path. Considering that the pod was heading into the base of a mountain, expecting to land short, a longer glide path could be disastrous. The captain had to rely on Greta’s skills to land the shuttle safely.

The pod broke through ten thousand feet and the turbulence began to diminish. Greta regained control and flew on, adjusting the pitch minutely when the speed peaked above flight norms. She felt her confidence returning.

“Eagle One to Letanya , we’ve broken through the turbulence layer and have smooth sailing ahead.”

“Roger, Eagle One,” Kate didn’t like the cocky attitude she heard. Then again, maybe Greta was just trying to reassure everyone. God knows we could use that!

Greta felt much better. They were nearing the landing zone, so she slipped her night vision goggles on and let the heads-up display jump before her eyes. She could see they were right on the glide path, and just nine knots fast. She raised the nose a bit to reduce speed and watched as the pod came up out of the glide path. She would have to porpoise the ship from now on, dipping below the glide path until the speed rose too quickly, then coming up to cut speed and get back on glide.

She had rehearsed just such a problem many times on the simulator. Piece of cake, she thought. The ship dropped below seven thousand and Greta looked ahead to spot the landing site. The mountain range appeared. She magnified it for a moment to look for cloud cover or other problems. It looked clear.