Page 74 of Space Junk: Houston, We Have a Hottie
Jackie
I focus on the schematics projected on the screen in front of me. Sitting at a table, along with most of the higher-ups at NASA, I’m surprised I’m not nervous. I don’t even adjust my glasses. Instead, I take charge.
“You can see the damaged wires in the shots Astronaut Starr took of EXT-1 after it was hit. What we need to check on are the wires that continue running under the exterior panel.” I look at the electrical engineering team assembled to one side of the room. “What do the plans tell you?”
“According to the electrical drawing, the wires continue under the panel, and even coil for slack. You should have enough give to cut and reconnect,” one of them answers. “If that fails, we can banana clip around the damaged section.”
I address the EVA division. “What’s our timeline? How fast can Jules and Bodie be out the door?”
Astronauts always go on spacewalks in twos—the classic buddy system. Though Jules will run the show, Bodie will be her backup.
“They’re suited up. They just need to connect their helmets and get to the airlock.”
I pace back and forth in what feel like clown shoes on my feet. Anyone going on a spacewalk needs to depressurize to avoid decompression sickness, or ‘the bends,’ which happens when someone is exposed to a rapid drop in external pressure and expanding nitrogen gas bubbles in the bloodstream escape too quickly. To prevent this, an hour before the spacewalk an astronaut dons the full space suit and breathes pure oxygen inside the sealed airlock while the pressure gradually decreases. Once the area reaches the appropriate pressure, the astronaut pulls himself through the airlock hatch and into space.
“They’ll have both the tether and the SAFER jetpack, since we don’t know how long this could take,” an EVA engineer continues.
EVAs usually take weeks to plan. Not hours. There’s a detailed list of procedures, which are followed to the letter. In comparison, what I have planned is like giving a toddler paints and a brush and expecting a Rembrandt.
All those movies about astronauts jumping into their suits and then diving into space to save the day? Yeah, not so much. Even this hastily put together spacewalk is bending protocol almost to the breaking point.
“Okay. Make sure Jules has her tool belt fully stocked with clippers, cables—the lot. We don’t want a failure simply because she forgot to properly pack her purse,” Sean says.
Ian barks out a laugh. “Jesus, Sean. You should be glad this is an emergency. Otherwise you’d have your ass handed to you by Human Resources for that remark.”
Sean dismisses him with a wave and an eye roll, mumbling something about millennial safe zone bullshit. Everyone pretends they can’t hear, but the chuckles continue.
I move to the door, my nervousness flaring up with a stiff smile. “Let’s go get the EXTs back online.”
* * *
The large screensin Mission Control show various images of the interior and exterior of the ISS, and now include a countdown to the estimated impact of debris. Jules and Bodie have had time to properly depressurize. I catch something flashing out of the corner of my eye. My phone screen is lit up with a text message notification.
“You guys are good to move to the hatch,” Sean instructs the astronauts, speaking into his head set.
“Houston, on our way,” Jules replies.
Jules might be a space cowgirl, but when it comes to the job, she’s all focus. She almost doesn’t sound like herself over the airwaves. Which is probably a good thing, as calling a flight director ‘hooker’ on national television isn’t the kind of PR NASA is going for these days.
All the eyes in the room are glued to the screen as Jules and Bodie work together to open the hatch and spin it back against the interior wall. I take the moment to pick up my phone.
Flynn:Good Luck, darling.
Seriously? He goes from making out with his Barbie doll ex to sending boyfriend-like texts to me in the span of a few hours. Maybe he has multiple personality disorder. Or maybe Rose is wrong—heisjust like Brian and Icanactually draw the conclusion that men don’t want the nerdy girls.
“EVA hatch is open and stowed.” Bodie’s deep voice comes through the speakers. “Switching suit power to battery mode.”
I put my phone down with more force than required and take a deep breath.Focus.
“Jackie?”
Ian waves me over to the EVA console.
I put blinders on my feelings about Flynn and home in on Ian. “Yes?”
“Just wanted to show you the suit specs, and the battery and oxygen levels, so you have that in the back of your mind as we cowboy this spacewalk.”
“Cowboy?” I laugh softly, thinking of my romance novels and how Jules would love the comparison. “Thanks, Ian.”
