Artemis I Has A Stowaway - Day 19
December 4th, 2022
While I was sleeping, NASA was doing the math on this. Option A: Rescue mission from Earth - but can they get a rescue mission off the ground before the crew burns up or suffocates? Option B: I fly the Orion over and pick them up - but can I learn to fly the Orion in four more days?
Us engineers love to quantify things. Everything is about percentages and decision matrixes, and ratios. The only real X factor in all this is how good a pilot I am. When does Option B become the better choice than Option A? NASA’s decided that I’ll keep practicing and just before we’d have to commit, if of the final ten simulations immediately before, I successfully pulled off the intercept twice, then Option B is a go. 20% chance of success is the better option.
The whole thing is about math. Figuring the odds between two long shots and putting four lives on the best option.
There is good news though. You know how they say your brain re-organizes stuff while you sleep? Yesterday I was typically hitting bingo on fuel at about 60% completion, a good night’s sleep under my belt and I started the day in the high 70’s. This is more like driving than I thought. You’ve got to be thinking where you want to be in five minutes and thinking about how the ship is moving and how you can just kind of ease her into where she needs to be later. ‘Now’ matters a lot less than ‘later’. Also, even though I use way too much fuel doing it, I’m occasionally making the intercept at the end of the simulation.
So, I’m feeling a lot better while I’m eating lunch than I was when I was going to bed.
“Alex,” the radio came alive with Mark’s voice. “We’ve got a request from the commander of Dragon Sovereign to talk with you, wants to thank you for all your hard work.”
So, you’d have to know Mark, spend a few hours talking about him, but there’s something weird with his voice. He sounds, well he sounds like he’s smiling.
“Hi Alex, this is Captain Sarah Covington,” ok, I see the problem. They miscast Scarlet Johansen as the voice in Her. They ought to have cast Captain Sarah Covington. Her voice sounds like a cup of spiked hot chocolate feels.
So, first name basis? She called me Alex, but what was her other option? Mr. Whelm?
“Hi Captain Covington. How are you doing over there?” The nerds in NASA’s mission control room probably all just cringed hearing my voice waver at that. Literally the stupidest question you could ask someone stranded in a space capsule.
“Call me Sarah, and we’re ok for now. NASA’s been keeping me updated on your simulation performance. You’re a fast learner, but that Orion, what a beast.”
I am a fast learner, aren’t I? I’m grinning.
“Thanks…” oh fuck, I don’t know what to say next. What do you say next? This is weird, the silence is dragging on too long, I’ve got to say something, anything.
“I was thinking,” she says, and I exhale a lungful of air saturated with anxiety. “Walk me through a simulation live. I’d like to see what kind of stick and rudder man you are.”
I’m a stick and rudder man? At least, in space, no one can see you blush.
NASA cues up the simulation, again, and I start. Walking her through my steps as I fly.
“Coming around to 152 degrees long,” I say, Dragon’s crew is going to be coming from about that angle and my first roll is to get them in sight on my display. Finding them’s a bit tricky, at this distance they look like four stars in a line and the only difference is that they’re four stars that are moving. I’ve got to rotate Orion around and then pitch and yaw a bit until I can see them.
“That’s a nice smooth rotation, really impressive Alex, you’re a natural at this,” she says. I’m not. I came damn close to having thrusters engage as I was a little heavy handed on the stick. She’s just trying to help my confidence. Right? I mean if your life depended on someone doing a difficult task, you’d try to build them up a bit. Right? Feels nice though.
“Ok, establishing on 152 degrees Long. I don’t see the crew…” I say and check out the status on my flywheels. Pitch is saturated from some earlier maneuvers, and yaw’s at about 50%. Probably better to desaturate pitch for this. But… that means up?
“Pitching up 5 degrees,” I say, and pull back on the stick. The simulation plays a little rumbling noise to let me know I’ve just used thrusters. Fuck. I’m also drifting a bit longitudinally, not much, but I’ll have to do something to stop it.
“Can you see us?” Sarah asks.
I pitch down, this time the flywheel helps, braking gently to give me the rotational change I need, and I very gently try to correct the longitudinal position so I’m back on 152 exactly. “No…” I say. This is really, really, hard, you’ve got to keep your eyes on the gimbals while at the same time looking at the star field for something far from obvious.
Wait, got them!
“Gotcha!” I say and tap the orientation lock button on the flight controls, letting the computer keep Orion aligned on this heading. And I let out a long breath.
“You’re doing amazing Alex, I’m going to have to give you a big hug when we get onboard.”
Wait… what? This is flirting right? She’s flirting with me. Is she flirting with me? Why is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? How do I flirt back?
The four little dots of light are growing bigger as they make their way across the starfield in my view. This is one of the trickiest parts of this thing. I’ve got to eyeball the intercept. Here’s the way to think about this. Imagine you’re driving along the highway and you see someone on an on-ramp speeding up to merge. Because you’re a jerk I guess, you want to get right along side them when they reach the bottom of the ramp. So, brake, speed up, or steady as she goes? And remember, a small change now has as big an impact on the intercept as a big change later. For fuel savings this is the big moment. Now just do that in three dimensions instead of 2.
“+1m/s,” I say and fire Orion’s rear thrusters. I overdid it. I can see right away that was a sloppy choice, “-0.3 m/s” I say and reverse. Ok, better.
“What, you don’t want a hug when I get there?” Sarah asks. She is doing that playful hurt voice thing girls do. What the hell is this?
We’re something like 200 meters out now, I can distinctly see all four astronauts as people. Next problem though, that merge I was telling you about? It looks like I’m going to be nose to nose with them, but instead of being in the lane beside them, I’m on the other side of the highway… I think.
“Hey, don’t ignore me, Mark!” Sarah snaps.
“0.3 m/s lateral delta-v,” I say and trigger off the thrusters. The ship slides to the side in the simulation. Way too much. Shit. Way way too much. “-0.2 m/s lateral delta-v,” I say and correct things.
The master alarm sounds. I’ve used 80% of the fuel I’ve got for this thing. Shit. I’m like at 50% complete. Fuck. How am I doing so badly?
“I’m not ignoring you! I’m busy!”
Fuck, now I’ve snapped at her. Shit. I should have flirted, said something smart and playful about the kiss. That’s what a cool astronaut would have done. Mark probably…
“Don’t you yell at me! I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’re fucking this whole thing up and you’re going to get me killed and you are yelling at me!?”
God, this is the worst day of my life. Focus, focus, focus, how do I unfuck this fuel situation? The four astronauts are drifting along my field of vision just kind of slipping away from me. There’s a little bit of vertical drift, I’m sure of that, and I can fix it. “-0.05 m/s vertical delta-v”, Orion’s thrusters fire.
The monitor blanks, “simulation failed” appearing on the screen. I no longer have enough fuel to pull off the intercept, and the computer knows it. 55% completion.
“Alex,” Sarah’s voice is different. The emotion’s gone, flirty, angry, hurt, none of any of that. It isn’t even like when she said hello, she’s just, flat, like she is on the phone with a bank. “Sorry. I needed to know how pressure would affect you, and that was the best I could think of. It’s nothing personal, pressure hits everyone differently. And you should take a breath, we’re going to scrap this plan for you to come get us, rescue from Earth’s the better option. You’re just not cut out for this.”
You want to know the worst part? My first reaction was to feel relieved. I’m ashamed about a lot that happened today, but that’s the worst bit. I was right before, this is the worst day of my life.
*******
I’m Nathan H. Green, a science-fiction writer with a degree in aerospace engineering, and I’m going to be doing daily semi-fictional stories tracking the Artemis I mission. You can follow along through my reddit (u/authornathanhgreen).
Artemis I Has A Stowaway is a work of semi-fiction. All incidents, events, dialogue and sentiments (which are not part of the mission’s official history), are entirely fictional. Where real historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, sentiments, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events, personality, disposition, or attitudes of the real person, nor to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. Save the above, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
© 2022 Nathan H. Green
While I was sleeping, NASA was doing the math on this. Option A: Rescue mission from Earth - but can they get a rescue mission off the ground before the crew burns up or suffocates? Option B: I fly the Orion over and pick them up - but can I learn to fly the Orion in four more days?
Us engineers love to quantify things. Everything is about percentages and decision matrixes, and ratios. The only real X factor in all this is how good a pilot I am. When does Option B become the better choice than Option A? NASA’s decided that I’ll keep practicing and just before we’d have to commit, if of the final ten simulations immediately before, I successfully pulled off the intercept twice, then Option B is a go. 20% chance of success is the better option.
The whole thing is about math. Figuring the odds between two long shots and putting four lives on the best option.
There is good news though. You know how they say your brain re-organizes stuff while you sleep? Yesterday I was typically hitting bingo on fuel at about 60% completion, a good night’s sleep under my belt and I started the day in the high 70’s. This is more like driving than I thought. You’ve got to be thinking where you want to be in five minutes and thinking about how the ship is moving and how you can just kind of ease her into where she needs to be later. ‘Now’ matters a lot less than ‘later’. Also, even though I use way too much fuel doing it, I’m occasionally making the intercept at the end of the simulation.
So, I’m feeling a lot better while I’m eating lunch than I was when I was going to bed.
“Alex,” the radio came alive with Mark’s voice. “We’ve got a request from the commander of Dragon Sovereign to talk with you, wants to thank you for all your hard work.”
So, you’d have to know Mark, spend a few hours talking about him, but there’s something weird with his voice. He sounds, well he sounds like he’s smiling.
“Hi Alex, this is Captain Sarah Covington,” ok, I see the problem. They miscast Scarlet Johansen as the voice in Her. They ought to have cast Captain Sarah Covington. Her voice sounds like a cup of spiked hot chocolate feels.
So, first name basis? She called me Alex, but what was her other option? Mr. Whelm?
“Hi Captain Covington. How are you doing over there?” The nerds in NASA’s mission control room probably all just cringed hearing my voice waver at that. Literally the stupidest question you could ask someone stranded in a space capsule.
“Call me Sarah, and we’re ok for now. NASA’s been keeping me updated on your simulation performance. You’re a fast learner, but that Orion, what a beast.”
I am a fast learner, aren’t I? I’m grinning.
“Thanks…” oh fuck, I don’t know what to say next. What do you say next? This is weird, the silence is dragging on too long, I’ve got to say something, anything.
“I was thinking,” she says, and I exhale a lungful of air saturated with anxiety. “Walk me through a simulation live. I’d like to see what kind of stick and rudder man you are.”
I’m a stick and rudder man? At least, in space, no one can see you blush.
NASA cues up the simulation, again, and I start. Walking her through my steps as I fly.
“Coming around to 152 degrees long,” I say, Dragon’s crew is going to be coming from about that angle and my first roll is to get them in sight on my display. Finding them’s a bit tricky, at this distance they look like four stars in a line and the only difference is that they’re four stars that are moving. I’ve got to rotate Orion around and then pitch and yaw a bit until I can see them.
“That’s a nice smooth rotation, really impressive Alex, you’re a natural at this,” she says. I’m not. I came damn close to having thrusters engage as I was a little heavy handed on the stick. She’s just trying to help my confidence. Right? I mean if your life depended on someone doing a difficult task, you’d try to build them up a bit. Right? Feels nice though.
“Ok, establishing on 152 degrees Long. I don’t see the crew…” I say and check out the status on my flywheels. Pitch is saturated from some earlier maneuvers, and yaw’s at about 50%. Probably better to desaturate pitch for this. But… that means up?
“Pitching up 5 degrees,” I say, and pull back on the stick. The simulation plays a little rumbling noise to let me know I’ve just used thrusters. Fuck. I’m also drifting a bit longitudinally, not much, but I’ll have to do something to stop it.
“Can you see us?” Sarah asks.
I pitch down, this time the flywheel helps, braking gently to give me the rotational change I need, and I very gently try to correct the longitudinal position so I’m back on 152 exactly. “No…” I say. This is really, really, hard, you’ve got to keep your eyes on the gimbals while at the same time looking at the star field for something far from obvious.
Wait, got them!
“Gotcha!” I say and tap the orientation lock button on the flight controls, letting the computer keep Orion aligned on this heading. And I let out a long breath.
“You’re doing amazing Alex, I’m going to have to give you a big hug when we get onboard.”
Wait… what? This is flirting right? She’s flirting with me. Is she flirting with me? Why is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? How do I flirt back?
The four little dots of light are growing bigger as they make their way across the starfield in my view. This is one of the trickiest parts of this thing. I’ve got to eyeball the intercept. Here’s the way to think about this. Imagine you’re driving along the highway and you see someone on an on-ramp speeding up to merge. Because you’re a jerk I guess, you want to get right along side them when they reach the bottom of the ramp. So, brake, speed up, or steady as she goes? And remember, a small change now has as big an impact on the intercept as a big change later. For fuel savings this is the big moment. Now just do that in three dimensions instead of 2.
“+1m/s,” I say and fire Orion’s rear thrusters. I overdid it. I can see right away that was a sloppy choice, “-0.3 m/s” I say and reverse. Ok, better.
“What, you don’t want a hug when I get there?” Sarah asks. She is doing that playful hurt voice thing girls do. What the hell is this?
We’re something like 200 meters out now, I can distinctly see all four astronauts as people. Next problem though, that merge I was telling you about? It looks like I’m going to be nose to nose with them, but instead of being in the lane beside them, I’m on the other side of the highway… I think.
“Hey, don’t ignore me, Mark!” Sarah snaps.
“0.3 m/s lateral delta-v,” I say and trigger off the thrusters. The ship slides to the side in the simulation. Way too much. Shit. Way way too much. “-0.2 m/s lateral delta-v,” I say and correct things.
The master alarm sounds. I’ve used 80% of the fuel I’ve got for this thing. Shit. I’m like at 50% complete. Fuck. How am I doing so badly?
“I’m not ignoring you! I’m busy!”
Fuck, now I’ve snapped at her. Shit. I should have flirted, said something smart and playful about the kiss. That’s what a cool astronaut would have done. Mark probably…
“Don’t you yell at me! I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’re fucking this whole thing up and you’re going to get me killed and you are yelling at me!?”
God, this is the worst day of my life. Focus, focus, focus, how do I unfuck this fuel situation? The four astronauts are drifting along my field of vision just kind of slipping away from me. There’s a little bit of vertical drift, I’m sure of that, and I can fix it. “-0.05 m/s vertical delta-v”, Orion’s thrusters fire.
The monitor blanks, “simulation failed” appearing on the screen. I no longer have enough fuel to pull off the intercept, and the computer knows it. 55% completion.
“Alex,” Sarah’s voice is different. The emotion’s gone, flirty, angry, hurt, none of any of that. It isn’t even like when she said hello, she’s just, flat, like she is on the phone with a bank. “Sorry. I needed to know how pressure would affect you, and that was the best I could think of. It’s nothing personal, pressure hits everyone differently. And you should take a breath, we’re going to scrap this plan for you to come get us, rescue from Earth’s the better option. You’re just not cut out for this.”
You want to know the worst part? My first reaction was to feel relieved. I’m ashamed about a lot that happened today, but that’s the worst bit. I was right before, this is the worst day of my life.
*******
I’m Nathan H. Green, a science-fiction writer with a degree in aerospace engineering, and I’m going to be doing daily semi-fictional stories tracking the Artemis I mission. You can follow along through my reddit (u/authornathanhgreen).
Artemis I Has A Stowaway is a work of semi-fiction. All incidents, events, dialogue and sentiments (which are not part of the mission’s official history), are entirely fictional. Where real historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, sentiments, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events, personality, disposition, or attitudes of the real person, nor to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. Save the above, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
© 2022 Nathan H. Green
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