Гарри Гаррисон - To The Stars

“Give me a few minutes and I think I’ll be able to eat. This going in and out of gravity isn’t the easiest thing on the stomach.”

“Neither is coming in on the wee-waw express with all the white bags…”

“Kjell, please…”

“Sorry. Change the subject. Good to see you here. First engineer from the London lab in over five years.

“It can’t be.”

“Certainly is. They sit there on their fat balder — present company excepted — and tell us what to do up here without the slightest idea of what our problems are. So you are welcome, I mean that. So you’ll excuse my bad Norwegian jokes, yes?”

“Yes, of course. As soon as I settle down I’ll make some myself.”

“Right in here.”

There was quiet background music in the dining room which had been decorated with some degree of taste. The flowers along the wall only looked like plastic when one came close. A few men were queuing at the self-service counter, but Jan had no desire to get that close to food quite yet.

“I’ll find a table,” he said.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Just a cup of tea.”

“No problem.”

Jan tried not to look too closely at the meal Kjell was wolfing down with great enthusiasm; the tea went down very well and he was happy with that.

“‘When do I get to see the satellite?” Jan asked.

“As soon as we finish here, if you like. Your bag will be in your room waiting for you. Before I forget, here’s the key, the number is on it. I’ll show you how a spacesuit works and we can go out.”

“Is it that easy-going into space?”

“Yes and no. The suits are about as foolproof as they can be made, so that’s not a worry. And the only way to learn to work in zero-G in space is to go out and do it. You won’t be flying, that takes a long time to learn, so I’ll take you out in a powered suit and anchor you. Bring you back the same way. You can work as long as you want, to get the hang of tool using, then shout into the radio when you’ve had enough. You’ll never be out there alone: one of us will get to you within sixty seconds. Nothing to worry about.”

Kjell pushed his plate away and started on a large and violently red sweet. Jan turned his eyes away. The fabric paneling on the walls was attractive.

“No windows,” Jan said. “I haven’t seen one since I arrived.”

“You won’t either — only one is in the control tower. We’re in geosynchronous orbit here, where most of the satellites are. Also right in the middle of a Van Allen belt. Plenty of radiation out there — but plenty of shielding too in these walls. The suits we use have heavy shielding as well, and even with that we don’t go out during solar storms.”

“What is the situation now?”

“Quiet. And it should stay that way. Ready?”

“Lead the way.”

Everything that could be automated in the spacesuits was — with multiple standby and fail-safe circuits. Internal temperature, oxygen demand, humidity controls were all computer controlled. As was the control input.

“You just talk to the suit,” Kjell said. “Call it suit control, tell it what you want, then say end suit control when you are finished. Like this.” He lifted the bowl-like helmet and spoke into it.“Suit control, give me a status report.”

“Unoccupied, all internal controls off oxygen tank full, batteries fully charged.” The voice was mechanical, but clear.

“Are there specific commands or phrases?” Jan asked.

“No, just speak clearly and the discrimination circuits will sort out the command words and phrases. It’ll query if there is any doubt, and repeat any commands before actuating them.”

“Sounds simple enough — I hope it is. Shall we start?”

“Now’s the time. Sit down and put your legs in here…”

It went easily and Jan had faith in the Suit circuitry when it warned him that his right glove wasn’t sealed completely. With the helmet in place he lumbered after Kjell into the airlock. His suit unwrinkled as the pressure dropped and when it hit zero the outer door automatically unlocked.

“Here we go,” Kjell’s voice said on the radio hookup, and pushed them out through the opening.

They were on the dark side of the station. Words had not prepared Jan for the sight of the stars, unmasked by any atmosphere or pictured on a screen. There seemed to be too many of them, filling all of space. Varying in brightness and color. He knew the arctic sky at night, but that had only been a suggestion of the grandeur and beauty that filled space around him. Long minutes passed without his realizing it, until Kjell spoke.

“It always hits you like that. But the first time is special.”

“Unbelievable!”

“And it’s not going away — so we can get some work done now.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I feel the same way.”

Kjell jetted them to the comsat which was anchored to a spar. The bulk of a deep spacer was not far beyond. Some men were working on her hull and there was the sudden red flare of a laser welder. Seen in space, in its correct environment, the communication satellite was more impressive than it had ever looked in the sterile room on Earth. It was gouged and eroded by years of bombardment of microparticles. They clipped onto it and Jan pointed out the cover plates he wanted removed. He watched closely as Kjell used the counter-rotating powered screwdriver. Then he tried it himself, clumsily at first but with increasing skill. After an hour of this he found the fatigue creeping up so he stopped and they returned. He turned in soon after and slept very well indeed.

When they went out again during the next work period he had the metal recording envelopes in his pocket. It was very easy to slip them into the outer leg pocket of his suit.

By the third day he was working well and Kjell seemed satisfied with his progress.

“I’m going to leave you alone now. Shout if you need some help. I’ll be inside that navsat there,” he said.

“I hope not. I have these boards out where I can get to them so I’m all set for awhile. Thanks for the “More thanks to you. This equipment has been waiting years for your master’s touch.”

Jan must have been under constant observation — or his radio messages were being monitored. Probably both. He was still unshipping his monitor screen when a spacesuited figure moved out from behind the nearby spacer, drifting his way with skillful puffs of gas from his backpack. The man came close, stopped, then touched his helmet to Jan’s. Their radios were off but the sound of his voice came clearly through the contacting surfaces.

“Have you checked your safety line lately?”

His features were invisible behind the mirrored helmet. Jan fumbled the recording out of his pocket and passed it through the beam of his work light. It was the correct one. The man took it from his hand and pushed off at the same instant, turning as he drifted away.

A second man appeared out of the darkness, moving fast, faster than Jan had ever seen one of the suits move before. It was on a collision course and he slammed into the first man with soundless impact, triggering the laser welder he held before him just as they hit.

It was a microsecond burst, a jet of brilliant red light that burned a gaping hole through suit and man in an instant. Oxygen puffed out and froze into a cloud of tiny brilliant crystals. There was no radioed alarm either; the attacker must have placed the beam to destroy the suit computer as well.

Jan was still rigid with shock when the second man let the laser swing from its line and grabbed the dead man, triggering his jets at the same time. They must have had specially fitted high-pressure orifices because the two figures accelerated away swiftly — then separated. The attacker reversed thrust, but no longer held onto the dead man. The corpse went out and out, leaving a comet tail of frozen oxygen, growing smaller, dwindling from sight.