Space Station Down, page 17
Kimberly turned in midair to face the video camera as it focused its lens with a tiny whirring sound. She steeled herself. What now? Bad news or worse?
“Yes?”
“Good news, Kimberly. The Dragon achieved second-stage separation, with an ETA of a little less than three hours. Are you able to monitor the location of the two bandits?”
Kimberly flicked a glance at the laptop where she’d previously put up a schematic of both the electrical activity and the O2/CO2 sensors, so she could get a rough estimate of where Farid and Bakhet were located.
The two had shrouded the webcams she’d been using to visually keep track of what they were doing: they’d figured out that she could watch them using their video feeds. A day earlier Kimberly had taped over all the sensors in the JPM except for the JAXA video cameras in case somehow they were able to turn the tables and spy on her.
“That’s a rog,” she said. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but it appears they haven’t moved from Central Post.”
“Can you tell what they’re up to?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No. But I bet they’re still trying to access the ISS system and regain control of the thrusters.”
“That’s what we think, too. We’ll keep the comm to a minimum so they won’t tumble onto the fact that you’ve opened up communications with the ground. We want them to stay in Central Post as long as possible, doing whatever the hell they’re doing, just as long as they can’t get the thrusters started up again. Our best scenario is for them to stay so busy they won’t detect the Dragon during its approach. Can you tell if they know it’s approaching?”
Kimberly turned back to the laptop and traced a finger across the computerized schematic. “I can’t tell what specific equipment they’ve powered up, but they don’t seem to be doing anything unusual, other than trying like crazy to hack into the system. I don’t know of any reason why they would suspect the Dragon will be on approach.”
“Again, that’s exactly what we want,” Tarantino said. Kimberly thought he sounded tired, his voice a bit scratchy. But he went on, “The Dragon will attempt to reach the Node 2 zenith berthing port by coming in from above, so they won’t be seen if one of the two happens to look out a viewport. But you should be able to spot them since Node 2 is next to your location in the JPM.”
Kimberly nodded.
Tarantino went on, “The Dragon will be expending more propellant than usual so they can approach from the zenith, but it’s critical that they reach the port undetected.”
Kimberly closed her eyes briefly, her mind racing through what she’d need to do to help them aboard. “Okay, but I’ll need a diversion, something to give me enough time to get to the U.S. lab and access the robotic arm. It’ll take several minutes to capture the Dragon with the arm and pull it in and dock it manually.”
“We’re working on that. And we’re reopening some of the links to engage the terrorists in psych warfare while you’re making your move.”
Kimberly felt a huge weight lifting off her shoulders. “Right.” So far, so good.
His voice edging slightly higher, Tarantino went on, “Finally, after you pull in the Dragon, we’ll need you to access all the ISS systems and interfaces during their engagement. So you scoot back to the JPM and stay there after they dock. It’s going to get pretty bloody when our team exits the Dragon, and you need to stay out of the way. Understand?”
Kimberly shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Kimberly, listen to me—”
“No, you listen. All the terrorists have to do is to surprise the Dragon team as they come through the berthing port. I’ve seen what they can do with that prybar. And then what happens?”
“Do you think they suspect something’s up?”
“No, and there’s no reason why they should. But still, if they do spot the Dragon approaching it’ll be pretty easy for them to kill the team while they’re coming through the hatch, one by one.”
“That’s even more reason for you to go back to the JPM!”
“But you can’t guarantee they won’t get lucky. Until I installed that patch from the NSA, they’ve been one step ahead of us the whole time. It’ll be much easier for me to sidetrack them after the team is docked than for the guys to be slaughtered when they disembark.”
“Kimberly!”
She pressed on. “I’ll create a diversion and make sure they’re away from the Node 2 berthing port.”
“Do not leave that module! That’s a direct—”
The lights in the JPM blinked out. In the sudden darkness Kimberly heard the air blowers sigh to a stop. The module went dead quiet. The only light came from the viewport and the laptop screen, now running on battery.
They’ve cut the power! They’ve done to me exactly what I did to them. Somehow they’ve gotten past the firewalls I’ve erected around the controls.
Her eyes rapidly adjusted to the faint light as she pushed off to open the window shutters, allowing sunlight to come through. Fifty minutes of sunshine to each orbit, Kimberly reminded herself.
She kicked off to the laptop. Grabbing the metal frame that held the computer, she rotated around and pulled herself close to the screen. The screen icon showed there was slightly more than two hours left on the battery’s charge. She was still tied in to the ISS system and was still able to access everything she’d controlled before.
They hadn’t yet cut the lines that carried the signals, but there was no doubt in her mind that they would go there next. They’d obviously been able to hack into the system and get around the firewall while their own power was cut. Kimberly saw light streaming from Node 2, just outside the JPM. They’d successfully brought their lights up while taking hers down. They might also physically unplug the power and data cables that ran through the vestibule region from Node 2 to the JPM, but since there were redundant cables, she didn’t think they’d even bother to try.
But the big difference was that now the Ka-band link to the ground was down, and she wouldn’t know when the Dragon would be making its final approach to the station. She still had access to her laptop, though, and she could probably still try to hack back in and turn on her power. But if she did, it would tip off Farid and Bakhet, and they’d probably physically disconnect her cables. Then she’d really be up a creek, trapped in the JPM.
She glanced at the time display at the upper right corner of the laptop screen. CAPCOM had told her that the Dragon would be on station in a little less than three hours. With the time that already had elapsed since then, Kimberly figured their ETA was now somewhere around two and a half hours.
The laptop’s battery must be draining like crazy now that its external power source was cut off; and if the guys hadn’t moved the other three laptops normally stored in the JPM, she could have switched out their batteries.
She doubted that the Dragon would arrive any sooner than the time CAPCOM had given her; astrodynamics was astrodynamics, and when not under thrust the vessel obeyed the physical laws that dictated orbital elements. So the laptop power would run out before they arrived, meaning she would be deaf, dumb, and blind: unable to monitor the Dragon’s approach or the ISS’s internal systems.
Which meant that she couldn’t rule out either Farid or Bakhet somehow getting lucky and detecting the Dragon capsule before it arrived. And then they’d do everything in their power to stop the rescue team.
The most straightforward and easiest thing to do was simply to deny them access to the berthing port. Very simple. And very effective. Putting the robotic arm out of commission would ensure the fiery deaths of both the rescue capsule and the hundred-and-fifty-billion-dollar space station.
So, in all reality, Kimberly knew there was little chance that the SpaceX Dragon capsule would be able to reach the ISS in time to save it. And with her power cut off, she couldn’t stop the terrorists from rotating the ISS again and renewing its death plunge.
So what can I do? she asked herself.
She was alone again, cut off from the rest of the world. But she knew she wasn’t going to roll over and play dead. Not by a long shot. The two terrorists had managed to hack back into the ISS system and overcome seemingly insurmountable odds. So she’d have to go them one better.
Kimberly pulled in a breath and tried to think. Time to solve another problem.
SOUTH PACIFIC OCEAN, NORTHWEST OF THE SOLOMON ISLANDS
The weather wasn’t cooperating.
The three Aegis cruisers moved farther apart as they plowed through heaving seas toward their predetermined launch position. The sea was getting rougher by the minute, driven by a gale that exceeded Force 9 on the Beaufort scale. Green water was crashing over their prows with each heaving wave as the cruisers—USS Lake Erie, USS Decatur, and USS Russell—battened down to ride out the storm.
The order to fire their antisatellite missiles would be given by PACOM Headquarters outside Honolulu, once the President made his decision.
The challenge was to shoot down the ISS so it would crash somewhere over the open Pacific Ocean, which would minimize the effect of any plutonium or debris that might survive the searing heat generated by the station’s 17,500-mile-an-hour plunge into the thickest layers of the atmosphere. The Aegis ASAT missiles were equipped with onboard terminal guidance radars, with the capability of updating their positions up until the last few miles of intercept, when the projectiles would continue to their target on a ballistic trajectory.
The tactic for shooting down the ISS is for multiple ASATs to target the largest and most massive modules of the station, and not be erroneously guided to other objects such as the conspicuously large arrays of solar panels. If that happened the Aegis missile warheads would splash on through the thin, lightweight objects without preventing the main body of the station from continuing to deorbit.
The military’s entire space situational awareness assets were focused on supporting the shoot-down. Space Command’s Space-Based Surveillance System, ground-based radars, Ground-Based Electro-Optical Deep Space Surveillance optical tracking, and observatories in Maui and Kirtland Air Force Base at Albuquerque, New Mexico, were assigned to closely watch the ISS and to immediately forward any change in configuration or altitude to PACOM and the National Security Council.
Earlier in the day, before the three Aegis cruisers reached their storm-battered positions, the President announced to the NSC meeting that he would only order the ISS shot down if it started to descend again. He was willing to give the station—and NASA’s efforts to save it—the benefit of the doubt.
But after the meeting he privately told the NASA Administrator that he was considering going ahead and shooting down the station because of the growing public panic.
“It’s for the greater good of the people,” he said.
Patricia Simone felt angry enough to spit at him, but she nodded silently and kept her fury to herself.
JAPANESE MODULE (JPM)
Kimberly floated in the dark at the far end of the JPM, the opposite side from the vestibule leading to Node 2. She peered out the two large windows, looking for the approaching Dragon rescue capsule.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d turned off the laptop, but she knew she needed to conserve as much of its battery power as she could. She needed that small computer to close the vent to the outside and allow the VAJ to reintroduce air into the vestibule. Otherwise, if the laptop’s battery died she’d never be able to get around the force of the air pressure holding the hatch tightly closed. She’d be stuck in the JPM—for the rest of my life! she realized, with a pang of fright that edged close to panic.
The capsule was due to arrive soon, and right before it docked she planned to ensure that the mating mechanism in the Node 2 berthing port worked. But her power and lights were still out, and with her laptop off she didn’t have a clue as to where the two terrorists were located, or even what time it was.
She’d followed Farid and Bakhet’s movements immediately after they’d cut the JPM’s lights, while she simultaneously tried to hack into the ISS’s controls. She didn’t have any luck getting in, but she could watch the various sensors that showed the pair moving down to the JPM and then back to Central Post. Since then, she could tell they remained in the Russian module until she turned off her laptop.
She assumed that the two of them were now methodically trying to remove the blocks she had set up on starting the thrusters, and with what she’d seen them accomplish, she had no doubt that they would eventually succeed. It would just depend on how much time they needed to do it.
Wherever the two had received their training, they were definitely part of the A-Team. And from what Scott had passed on about what the intelligence services had discovered, they weren’t just a pair of homegrown terrorists: they’d had to be trained by a sophisticated, nation-state agent.
Still looking outside the station, she scanned the blackness, looking for any light the Dragon might be emitting. Now that the sun was on the opposite side of the Earth, she assumed she wouldn’t be able to see the capsule unless she spotted emissions from inside the Dragon itself. She knew that the rescue team wanted to approach the station as stealthily as possible, but that would make it tougher for her to spot them. She also knew that she’d have to rapidly leave the safety of the JPM to help them dock, so she had to keep searching.
She could feel tension tightening its grip on her as she moved around to different angles, peering through the large windows, desperately searching for anything out of the ordinary, any dim light or glint of reflection that might catch her eye—
There! Just beyond the nearest solar array. She strained to look in the zenith direction. Hopefully as the capsule grew closer she could keep track of its approach.
The barely visible object was moving slowly, about one foot per second, she judged, as it inched toward Node 2’s zenith berthing port. The Node 2 port, specifically designed for unmanned U.S. commercial spacecraft such as this Dragon, provided a common, universal mechanism for docking. Kimberly hoped the terrorists hadn’t spotted the arriving vessel. She knew the Dragon would stop about ten feet from the dock and wait for the robotic arm to reach out and pull the capsule in.
Trembling with anticipation, Kimberly briefly closed her eyes and mentally rehearsed what she needed to do: let them know I’m here, then leave the JPM and engage the arm’s controls.
She pushed off for the laptop and started it up, then quickly disengaged it from its mooring and carried it with her back to the window. The screen lit up, illuminating the darkened module with diffuse light. She waved it back and forth across the viewport, hoping to catch the rescue team’s attention.
The capsule continued to edge slowly toward the berthing port, looking like a snail heading toward a wall, moving just as maddeningly slow. There was no sign from the Dragon that they’d seen her.
Her breath quickening, Kimberly waved the laptop up and down, then sideways across the narrow viewport. Here, over here! Look! for goodness’ sake.
Suddenly a muted light flicked on and off from the Dragon’s front viewport, once, twice, then went dark. They’ve seen me! Kimberly exulted. They knew that she was still alive. Now she had to do everything in her power to make sure they docked successfully.
Seeing the U.S. capsule and knowing that her fellow astronauts were just minutes away infused her with a renewed sense of hope and elation. She almost couldn’t contain her excitement.
Almost.
Steadying herself, Kimberly knew she had a huge job ahead of her. She turned from the window, glided back to the laptop’s console, and strapped the computer back into place. Pecking at its keyboard, she pulled up the ISS controls. Although power to the JPM was still cut, the station’s redundant cables allowed her access to the system. As long as the laptop stayed alive she’d be able to close the valve to outside and repressurize the vestibule. Then she could leave the Japanese module and go to help dock the Dragon.
She mentally ran through the sequence and was about to set the vacuum control state from OPEN to CLOSED when it hit her that there was a better than fair chance that the terrorists would discover what she was doing. She needed a way to fight them off.
Swinging her glance around the darkened JPM, she tried to find something that she might use as a long distance weapon, rather than getting in close with Shep’s knife. The Air Force Academy’s traveling wave tube wasn’t in the module any longer, and the laser flashlamp was not available, either. There wasn’t anything like the titanium prybar she could use, and the module was even void of the basic tools she had grabbed earlier. Nothing here but bungee cords and food pouches. What could she use?
She pushed over to the MO bags and started to go through them once again, hoping desperately that there might be something in them that she’d overlooked before. But all they contained were clothing, spare parts, and some food.
She pulled out a plastic bottle of Sriracha sauce; the astronauts called it Rooster sauce because of the rooster depicted on the bottle’s label. Her eyes widened at the discovery. She remembered that one of the visiting astronauts, a biochemist, had told her that the hot sauce pegged at a sizzling 2500 to 8000 Scoville heat units: if it hadn’t been labeled a food product for the ISS, its pH level was low enough that NASA would have banned it as a caustic acid.
She’d rather have a can of Mace to incapacitate the terrorists, but she didn’t have any other choice or much time, so Rooster sauce would have to do. She grabbed the bottle and kicked back to the laptop.
Kimberly pressurized the vestibule and removed the VAJ. Taking a deep breath, and stuffing the bottle of Sriracha sauce and Shep’s knife into her coverall pockets, she pulled the hatch open and prepared to leave the JPM so she could engage the robotic arm and help the waiting rescue team to turn the tables on those two murdering SOBs and regain control of the ISS.
