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Log Entry #40: Ground Control To Major Tom
🕑 Added 2020-09-12 09:56:03 +0000 UTCSpace, the final frontier…
Actually, space happens to be an extreme and unforgiving environment that can kill you in an instant. Seriously, it may be a frontier, but it is a uniquely intolerant place for the unprepared.
Everybody knows about the famous astronauts or cosmonauts if you are from that other country which had been involved in the space race. However, do you know how many of them died to get there? Russians still have top-secret stamped on some of their files of earlier attempts since in those times failures in the good old USSR were unacceptable.
Still, I am in awe of those people who wanted to reach that black emptiness with such desire that they bet their very lives for the chance. They may be forgotten by history, but they are still heroes. Oh, and sending dogs and apes to their deaths for the sake of science is simply wrong. What? Do you think differently? That sacrificing other cohabitants of this planet is OK, just because they belong to another species. Because humans are special? (Nazis showed that they were all for species equality when they experimented on humans during WW2, that alone tells you how special we are.)
Anyway, I intercepted an SOS signal from the International Space Station (and it was a stroke of blind luck that I did). One of the transporters was returning from Earth and it happened to pass close to it, detecting a very weak signal.
It was not so surprising since that nuclear explosion acted like a shotgun blast in the sky, making all those nifty satellites into pellets that started circling the Earth and knocking things out. Unfortunately, ISS was in the way of that atom-splitting release of energy and was wrecked in the process.
When I reoriented one of my satellites to take an image of it, the first thing that came to my mind was “Oh, shit!” (That’s how badly it was damaged.) The antennas that they needed to boost the SOS signal parted from the station and went on their merry ways.
You got to admit, the ISS is one of the greatest human achievements of all time, and was a monument to our urge of finding a greater understanding of our place in the universe. The various nations did something together, and it still amazes me it was ever built.
When you think that the station's first component was launched into orbit in 1998, and from that time they added so many modules… it is mind-blowing. Like building a house in outer space, OK, Low Earth Orbit, but still… It’s space, people.
Everybody and their conservative uncle were bitching at how much it cost, but think for a moment how much money people throw at stupid things annually, the ISS was a bargain.
The emphasis being on that it was, and that the station was now ready for the scrapyard. How those six people managed to survive is a miracle in itself, space being what I said before.
When I told Michael what happened, he immediately went on a rescue mission. After spending all that time talking to those politicians, I too would need some action to blow off some steam. (Politicians can seriously mess up one’s blood pressure... and everything else for that matter.)
Up close things looked even worse, and I felt such a profound sense of sadness at its condition (there may have been some tears involved). Have you ever seen a dragonfly, that flying insect with long iridescent wings? The ISS was something like that, the wings being solar panels that provided the power to the station. They were fragile (as dragonfly wings are), and fragile things do not fare so well when they meet an object that has been propelled by the power of a nuclear explosion.
It was not hard to transfer the astronauts to the transporter, only a short jump of a few feet. Keeping the transporter steady, even with the wobble the International Space Station acquired, wasn’t that difficult when you can do more computations in a second than most of the big computer clusters on Earth. I’m not talking about me, but the dozens of MIs that did it. They are more math-oriented and were perfect for the task. (Then again, they are mostly overpowered calculators, which is how Ares refers to them.)
The three astronauts that had suffered a few injuries were already bandaged and were given pain medications by other members of the ISS crew, but I immediately sent some medical nanites into them, to be on the safe side.
Michael’s idea to claim the ISS as salvage was inspired (that thing would have burned in the atmosphere, falling on someone’s head). I first had an idea to recycle it, but then decided to preserve it as a testament to human ingenuity. Recycling it would give us a few tons of useful materials, but in a way, it would be a sacrilege. There was more invested in that structure over the years than mere material. Hopes and dreams of thousands were infused in those thin habitat walls, and they were much more valuable than any material gains.
When they finally arrived and disembarked at the Ascension’s dock, the look on the faces of Commander Dax and his colleagues was priceless. I understood how he felt, from a very snug space station, which uses every available surface for something essential, to be brought to a spaceship that has an abundance of space—not an easy idea to get used to.
It was good that those three hurt ones were transferred to the AutoDoc as soon as they arrived, one was in bad shape, and the other two were pretty messed up. Even if they somehow managed to return to Earth by themselves (and chances for that to happen being slim to none), one of them would certainly not make it, and the others would have permanent damage. They were lucky that one of the healthy astronauts was a doctor, and she managed to patch them up before sealing their suits. The only reason they survived is that they were all able to enter the compartment where their space suits were kept in time.
They were assigned one of the guest apartments I made in case we ever had foreign representatives aboard, since they were made to impress. To tell the truth, they were not so different from regular apartments, only bigger. Most people on the Ascension did not want such large dwellings, and they usually picked much smaller and homier units.
It was a trip, when they called home to say that they were OK; you could see the stunned looks on everyone’s faces when the people they thought were dead or dying, called as if it was a regular day at the office. We did not hide things from them, but we didn’t reveal anything on purpose. I managed to talk with the astronauts’ a few times, but they did not suspect that I was anything else other than human.
After Commander Dax and the others went through a session in the AutoDoc. The problems they’d incurred by living in zero gravity, for such a long time, were solved so they could enjoy their stay aboard the Ascension. Their first normal meals were served to them and most chose pizza and a beer. Well, there was that Russian Cosmonaut that had a fetish toward borsch; I mean it is fine to eat on occasion, but twice a day is a bit much… well, to each his own.
And I must admit to taking advantage of the situation by organizing a few video interviews that Commander Dax and the others did, it was just another thing to make us look good, and some people down there to look very bad. Yes, I’m talking about that SOB that threw a nuke at us, he went underground, nowhere to be found. I snooped around a bit and discovered that the Acting US President Philip Cain has moved into the presidential bunker and was practically living there, serves him right.
Those astronauts were soon 100% OK, and wanted to go home, so we decided to organize the entire trip as another publicity opportunity; people love to see their loved ones return as heroes.
Yet, before that, Michael had another videoconference with presidents and ministers (sans US President, who was replaced by some bubblehead flunky).
I simply loved how disappointed they were when Michael finally told them there is no such thing as a free lunch. For some reason, the phrase ‘sticking it to the man’ was running through my mind (let us just hope in time we do not turn into The Man… that would be such a bummer).
It was genuinely funny. They huffed and puffed, and the house was still standing. Can you even imagine such a sense of self-importance that they really thought things were unchanged and that we should roll over to be scratched on our bellies and to receive one attaboy.
They will have to get over it and to pay for some things they want. That is in the future, part of our long-term plan.
We are preparing to send the ISS crew home, and there will be great PR we can get out of it. Soon they will be climbing aboard the transporter. I only need to chauffeur everybody back to Earth.
