Greg Cox: Star Trek: The Original Series: The Rings of Time

But here it was, waiting for him.

“ Renaissance to Lewis & Clark. ” Ludden hailed the other vessel. Like Shaun, she had shed her helmet and flight gear in favor of a comfy blue NASA jumpsuit. “Initiating docking procedure.”

“ Roger that, Renaissance,” a husky female voice answered via ship-to-ship radio. “We’re ready on our end.”

The shuttle approached the larger spaceship from below. Onboard computers and laser-guidance systems steered the shuttle toward the docking ring. The Renaissance ’s own docking mechanism was located in the forward payload bay, just aft of the crew compartment, so the shuttle presented its open back to the nose of the other ship. Multiple redundant systems ensured that the shuttle remained exactly on track. Ludden eyeballed it through the window, while Shaun watched the docking ring grow larger on a small television monitor. Even with the guidance systems constantly checking the shuttle’s range, speed, and trajectory relative to the other ship, frequent small course corrections were required to stay on course. Ludden worked the brake and thruster control sticks like an expert, taking her time. By the time the ships were less than ten meters apart, the Renaissance was approaching the other vessel at roughly one-tenth of a foot per second. Pale yellow vapor jetted from the forward thrusters with each momentary burn.

Ludden’s face was a portrait of concentration. “Almost there,” she muttered under her breath. “Just a few meters more…”

Contact! The ships came together with a gentle bump, less jolting than a 747 touching down on the tarmac. Automatic latches grabbed onto the shuttle and pulled the two spacecraft together, creating an airtight seal, at least in theory. Shaun would have to double-check that carefully before they tried crossing over to the other ship, but he could not have asked for a more successful rendezvous with his new home away from home.

So much for the easy part, he thought.

“I believe this is your stop,” Ludden quipped. “Don’t forget to tip your driver.”

He patted his jumpsuit. “I’m afraid I forgot my wallet. Guess I’m going to have to owe you.”

“Okay, but you’re looking at six-plus months of interest.”

“Take it up with NASA.”

“Are you kidding? They’re more cash-strapped than I am.”

Ain’t it the truth, Shaun thought.

He unstrapped himself from his seat. He had never been subject to space-sickness, so he had quickly adjusted to the lack of gravity. Taking care to retrieve the dog tags, he floated to the back of the cockpit and opened the hatch to the mid-deck below. A convenient ladder helped him descend headfirst to the lower level, where the airlock to the docking ring waited. A red indicator light above the hatch warned that the airlock was not yet pressurized.

He rang the doorbell, so to speak. A video-com connected him with the spaceship’s flight deck. “Permission to come aboard?”

“Just give us a second to roll out the welcome mat,” the female voice replied. An attractive redhead appeared on a miniature video screen adjacent to the hatchway. “Pressurizing now.”

Pumps rapidly filled the airlock with breathable air, so that the air pressure in the docking ring matched that of both the shuttle and the Lewis & Clark . The process took place with admirable speed; within minutes, he was able to unseal the hatch and rise through the vestibule connecting the two ships. The hatch at the other end opened onto the lower deck of the Lewis & Clark ’s command module. The ship’s onboard spacelab occupied most of the mid-deck. This was where he and the rest of the crew would be conducting many of their experiments over the next several months. Right now, everything was stowed away in preparation for their departure.

Two people floated just beyond the airlock.

“About time you got here,” astronaut Alice Fontana teased him, her arms crossed over her chest. An athletic redhead of Amazonian physique, she was oriented in the same direction as Shaun. Her blue jumpsuit proudly bore a Canadian flag decal in addition to its NASA logo. Microgravity had given her a slightly fuller face than usual and added at least an inch to her height. Her naturally flame-colored hair had been cut practically short. In her mid-thirties, she was younger than Shaun but not so much that he thought of her as a kid. She was his copilot on this mission.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he joked back. “Just be thankful you were safely up here, away from the dog-and-pony shows.”

Prior to the usual prelaunch quarantine, Shaun had spent the last few weeks doing publicity for the mission, in an attempt to drum up public and political support. Compared with the endless interviews, rubber chicken, and schmoozing, blasting off into space had been a breeze.

“Poor baby!” She gave him a hug that was slightly awkward, given their history, then disengaged quickly. “Better you than me.”

“I have to agree,” Dr. Marcus O’Herlihy said. Eschewing a hug, he shook Shaun’s hand instead, while holding on to a handrail to anchor himself. “Welcome aboard, Colonel.”

A distinguished-looking black man in his early fifties, about Shaun’s age, O’Herlihy had a slightly professorial air befitting his status as one of the world’s foremost astrophysicists. Combining disciplines, he was also the mission’s resident physician. His neatly trimmed beard and mustache had gone gray, and, like Fontana, he was slightly taller and rounder of face while weightless. His deep voice had a slight Irish accent.

“Good to see you, Doc,” Shaun greeted him. “You two been taking good care of my ship?”

“I think we’ve gotten everything battened down,” O’Herlihy said. He and Fontana had been conducting system tests and checks while the Lewis & Clark was in orbit. Everything needed to be working perfectly before the ship set off for its ultimate destination; after all, it wasn’t as if they could call for a tow if anything broke down later on. “We’re merely awaiting your final inspection and that last load of supplies from the Renaissance, of course.”

“Don’t worry,” Shaun said. “I remembered to get the groceries.” He drifted further into the module. “So, which one of you ordered the pineapple pizza?”

“That would be me,” Fontana confessed. “And don’t even think of breaking into my private stock — unless you ask nice, that is.”

“Duly noted,” Shaun said. “I promise not to raid the fridge when you’re not looking.”

“I’m sure we’ll all be on our best behavior,” O’Herlihy said. “Or this could be a very long trip.”

Shaun smiled. It was good to see them again. The three of them had been training together for months and had been judged psychologically compatible by the space shrinks back at Houston. Good thing we get along, he thought, given that we’re going to be stuck together for the next one-point-two billion kilometers.

He made a mental note to give Ludden a tour of the Lewis & Clark before she headed back home.

“Prepare to engage engines,” Shaun ordered.

Days had passed, and more than two thousand pounds of stores and equipment had been transferred from the Renaissance to the Lewis & Clark. The shuttle had returned to Earth, leaving the larger ship clear to depart. All final system checks had been completed. They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

Fontana and Shaun were strapped in at the helm, facing the front windows. O’Herlihy was off to the side at one of the auxiliary computer terminals. A steady stream of chatter flowed back and forth between the ship and Mission Control. The Lewis & Clark had orbited the Earth more than thirty times since Shaun had come aboard, once every ninety minutes. It was time to stop chasing their own tail and get on their way.