Andrew Morgan - Vessel

Aleks noticed that Bales hadn’t made a single note. Did he genuinely want to know, or was this some kind of test? There was something about this man that he found distrustful — he couldn’t put his finger on what, but those piercing, grey eyes seemed to hold no empathy whatsoever.

‘Can you tell me what the current mission is?’ Bales asked. He asked politely, but his tone made it clear that these weren’t questions; Bales was telling Aleks to answer.

‘It’s a three-man crew for the Soyuz TMA Ten M mission. They replaced a group of six, who were mainly engineers and scientists doing micro-gravity research. Three is the minimum capacity for the ISS for smooth operation, although it can be run with fewer. Anyway, they’re making the most of the opportunity with the free space to undertake some of the modifications required for the start of OPSEK’s construction. For the first month of their mission, they’re dismantling and removing the equipment from the modules that will form the foundations of OPSEK. At the beginning of their second month, a Progress automated resupply ship will take the old equipment away. Once that’s all done, they come back home. Another research team takes over from there.’

‘Who are these three crew? Give me a bit of background on them.’

‘There’s the Commander, Major Mikhail Romanenko—’

‘He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?’

‘Yes. He graduated from the Leningrad Suvorov military school top of his class and went on to operate fast jets. He logged five hundred hours at a record rate, including front-line operations, earning him the Hero of the Russian Federation award. He enrolled at the Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Centre at the age of thirty-one, and after five years served as Flight Engineer on board Soyuz TMA Nine M.

‘Major Romanenko’s Flight Engineer is another young Russian, Captain Evgeny Novitskiy. He followed the same path as Romanenko through military school and on to the Gagarin Training Centre, although he has shown himself to have an even better aptitude in testing than his Commander. A promising young cosmonaut indeed, although he still respects Romanenko’s experience and authority — a trait very favourable among Alpha-males who spend a lot of time together in a close environment.’

‘And the third crew member?’

Aleks knew the words he had to say, but didn’t want to say them. He looked at the floor, feeling Bales’ eyes burrowing into his head. ‘The third crew member,’ he said, not looking up, ‘is an American, NASA’s — your — Major Chris Williams. He was born in Ohio, was top of his class in the United States Naval Academy and has since logged over three thousand hours as an experimental test pilot.’ He could feel his face flushing hot with annoyance — or was it embarrassment? It was a strange, emasculating feeling he hadn’t felt since childhood.

‘Very good, Aleks, you certainly know your background. But can you tell me more about Major Chris Williams? What sort of a person is he?’

Aleks shifted his weight from foot to foot. ‘He’s a short-tempered man, quick to anger.’

‘What do you think about that?’

Aleks’ face was red hot. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Is this really necessary?’ Lev asked.

‘I asked you a question,’ Bales said, ignoring Lev.

‘I think it’s a bad situation to be in,’ Aleks said. ‘He should have never gone up.’ He looked at Bales, who was still — strangely — smiling.

‘Thank you Aleks, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I’m glad you can be honest with me — that’s important if we’re going to be working together. Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

Aleks didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Nodding to himself, still smiling, Bales stood and held out his hand, an indication for Aleks and Lev to leave. He shook with them both.

‘I look forward to working with you,’ he said. ‘I think we’ll make a great team.’

Somehow, Aleks knew that wouldn’t be the case.

‘RS0ISS, TsUP, come back.’

Aleks rubbed his eyes as he waited. It seemed like he’d barely left his seat since the vessel had been reported over a week ago. A scratchy sting had formed over his eyeballs, complimented by a dull ache at the small of his back. The scenery around him hadn’t changed much either. With not a soul leaving for more than a few hours to catch some rest and have a wash, Mission Control was a constant buzz of conversation. A three-day-old newspaper on his desk read: METEOR STRIKE ENDANGERS LIVES ON ISS . A lie, but one plausible and boring enough for the global media to let the story slip off the cover and into the middle pages. The glut of press that swarmed the building a week ago, attracted by the swollen NASA presence, had dwindled to a handful of chancers.

‘TsUP, RS0ISS, go ahead,’ came Mikhail’s voice.

‘Good morning, RS0ISS, how are you today?’

Mikhail laughed, making Aleks grin. It always cheered him up to hear his friend’s voice.

‘Can’t complain, TsUP, can’t complain.’

‘Are you sure? I’m betting Doctor Kotov would love to give you one of his psychoanalytical grillings.’

The man in question, listening to the conversation on his own headset, looked back at Aleks, frowning. Aleks gave him a cheeky nod and a wink.

‘No, I don’t think that will be necessary,’ Mikhail said. ‘Spirits are high up here. It’s not every day you get to discover something like this.’

‘Okay. But in all seriousness, keep us informed down here. Don’t bottle up.’

Aleks glanced again at the doctor, who gave a firm nod of approval.

‘Although Doctor Kotov is looking very keen—’

‘No doctors, no questions, no thank you,’ Mikhail interjected.

Aleks laughed. ‘I’m sure he’ll keep off your back so long as you keep being a smartass,’ he said.

‘Amen to that.’

‘Indeed. Anyway, RS0ISS, we’ve got a bit of housekeeping to do. Did you attempt a classification of the vessel as requested?’

‘We tried,’ Mikhail said, sounding uncertain, ‘but we can only get a reading on it optically. Anything electrical breaks down into a nonsensical mess.’

‘Copy, we’ve had the same problem our end.’

‘X-Ray, ultraviolet, infrared — it all comes back garbled.’

‘What did you achieve optically?’

‘Not much. The vessel’s appearance makes judging size difficult, but we’ve estimated it at around ten to twenty metres long, five to ten metres tall, and the same for the depth.’

‘Big enough to fit people in.’

‘Yes, definitely.’

‘Has there been any change to the vessel itself?’

‘None. We even analysed the static produced by our digital equipment, but it’s as random as any other.’

‘So the likelihood is that it’s dead?’

Mikhail made a humming sound, as if contemplating how he should say what he wanted to say next. ‘We don’t think so,’ he said. ‘From what we’ve been able to measure, the vessel follows us perfectly, with no deviation from our orbit. On top of that, the chances of an object falling into a synchronous orbit instead of bouncing off the atmosphere or falling in and burning up are impossibly small.’

‘You think it’s here deliberately?’

‘Yes.’

Aleks noted down what Mikhail was saying. The conversations were being recorded of course, but it helped Aleks’ mind to visualise the situation from his own notes.

‘Has EVA approval come through yet?’ Mikhail asked.

‘Not yet,’ Aleks said, finishing his last note. ‘Lev keeps pushing for it, but we’re being held back on that one, so no spacewalk yet.’