Station Breaker

6 Airlock

In a bored, officious voice, a Russian mission control operator drones on to us about the rules. "No more than one American astronaut shall leave the craft at a time, and always with an escort. The American astronauts will be allowed only access to the docking pylon, the lavatory facilities adjacent to the pylon and the airlock for doing their EVA. All EVA's will be under supervision of the K1 commander or a subordinate in order to prevent damage to the K1. No American may set foot onboard the K1 without permission from the K1 commander. While Unicorn 22 is docked on the K1, it is under jurisdiction of Russian Federation. As are all astronauts and passengers. We reserve right to inspect your cargo for any hazardous materials or contraband. If the commander of the Unicorn 22 agrees to these terms, please say 'affirmative.'"

I try to suppress a chortle every time he pronounces unicorn as "you KNEE corn."

"Dah," says Bennet before turning on his microphone. "Affirmative, Roscosmos. We agree to the terms. And thanks for helping us out."

We spend the next two hours bringing our orbit into alignment with the K1. The computers mostly handle this. We've been linking up with Russian spacecraft since 1975 when Apollo and Soyuz craft docked and their crews shook hands.

That was also the last flight for Apollo. On reentry there was a problem with the air system and two astronauts had to spend weeks in the hospital recovering from lung damage.

Let's hope this one goes a little better.

After checking velocity, alignment and all the other details that go into a docking procedure, we begin our final approach.

Bennet keeps his hands near the stick, but I notice he avoids touching it at any point during the window where it's safe to do so.

Through the porthole, K1 gradually grows from a tiny white grain of sand to a space station the size of two football fields.

Built like a giant cross from bus-sized cylinders, massive blue-black solar panels fill the squares between the pylons.

The docking module is a shaft sticking out of the bottom of the station. Two Soyuz capsules are berthed on either side as escape modules — the same kind that served as an emergency lifeboat on the International Space Station. In fact, the Soyuz modules were the workhorse of manned spaceflight for decades for the US and Russia.

Until Elon Musk and Vin Amin came along, NASA wasn't too proud of the fact that after the Shuttle program shut down, if you were an American astronaut that actually wanted to go into space, it was going to be onboard a Russian space taxi.

On the flip side for me, it turned out that learning to fly a MiG gave me an upper hand in iCosmos astronaut training. Being able to understand all the switches on the spacecraft of necessity for the last two decades was a definite plus — along with my ability to not have to pee every twenty minutes.

The K1 fills the sky in front of the Unicorn. Bennet's display shows the camera view of the nose coming in to the docking ring as a computer voice calls out the distance in centimeters.

There's an occasional burst from our docking rockets as they make fine adjustments to our approach. When we finally touch the collar, it's softer than a knock at the door.

A metal ring clamps shut and there's a tiny jostle as our ship is mated to the connector.

"Unicorn 22, this is K1. We have hard lock. Prepare for atmospheric equalization and to power down."

Before we can open the hatch and slap our comrades high fives, we have to make sure air pressure is equal on both sides. Otherwise, we could pop our eardrums, or worse, shoot out of the docking ring like a champagne cork while our hatch is wide open.

Fun times.

We put on our helmets just in case.

The air begins to hiss as we equalize with the K1 and Bennet powers us down. This is to prevent us from short circuiting the K1's electrical system until their electrician has a chance to make sure our power feeds aren't acting erratically. In space there's no way to ground an electric current. If you have stray voltage, it'll find a path, no matter what.

All the lights go out for a moment.

"Dixon," whispers Bennet. "I need to know right now, can I count on you?"

"Yeah, sure." This is a little odd.

"Listen to me very closely. I need you to do everything I or Peterson says. If you do that, it will all be fine."

I get the sudden realization that he's not talking about shaking hands through the airlock.

"What's going on?"

"Just listen. If anything should happen to Peterson or me, I want you to load up the reentry profile she prepared."

Peterson leans in and taps me on the shoulder. "Be a good boy and stay on the Unicorn. Everything will be okay."

"He'll be good," says Bennet.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

This has to do with the gun.

"What are you two up to?" I whisper.

"Need to know basis. Robbie was supposed to be in your chair. Until that retard screwed things up."

"I think I need to know."

"You can't know. Do you trust me?"

"In this exact moment? You're freaking me out."

"Do you trust me?"

Hell of a question to ask after the gun, pulling me off the pilot seat and whispering to me in the dark.

This is Bennet, an American hero. I've relied on him countless times underwater, dangling from parachute cords and sitting inside smoke-filled capsules simulating onboard fire.

"Yeah, Bennet, I trust you."

"You're a good man. If it gets dirty, you have to bug out. Got it?"

Dirty? What the hell? "What about the heat shield sensor problem?"

"There is no problem. I can't give you specifics. It's better that you don't know. I just need to know that if Peterson or I tell you to launch that you'll do that."

"You mean without you guys?"

"Exactly."

"You mean leave you on the K1?"

"You won't be leaving us. We'll already be dead."

"What the hell?"

He puts his hand on my shoulder just like the first time he shoved me out of an airplane. "This is bigger than us. A lot more is at stake. Can I count on you?"

"Affirmative." What else could I say?