The Krone Experiment by J. Craig Wheeler Page B

and tuck it into the bay.”
    “You’re out of your gourd!” protested
Wahlquist. “What happens when you’re out there and it takes aim and
blows the shuttle away? And the damn thing is spinning; that’s a
tough job with the boom, even if I could see!”
    “Three of the eight thruster pairs are out of
commission. It probably can’t maneuver well. That gives us a
margin. I’ll have to kill the rest. And if you can’t maneuver the
boom, then you’ll have to pick me up, and I’ll do it. Hey, I know
this is no picnic, but we can do it! We’ve got to do it. What we
can’t do is waste time talking. I’ve got to get us in position
under the Cosmos, and then you’ve got to come down and help me with
my backpack.”
    Jupp knew it was necessary to get Wahlquist
moving, give him something to do so he wouldn’t work himself closer
to panic. He had to remember that, desperate as he felt, he could
at least still see. Wahlquist would be just that much closer to
cracking up. These thoughts spun through his mind as he worked the
thrusters and brought the shuttle up under the Cosmos, scarcely
conscious of his actions.
    He unbuckled and floated back to where
Wahlquist stood. Ignoring his protestations, Jupp guided Wahlquist
to the hatch in the floor and watched him drop through. Then he
floated down himself. The two of them squeezed into the airlock and
then out into the cargo bay. Jupp made sure Wahlquist was on a
short tether. He detached a second backpack from its rack and gave
it to Wahlquist. It took them several minutes of fumbling to get it
attached, but Jupp could sense Wahlquist growing more assured as he
let his training take over and worked the familiar catches,
buckles, and straps by feel. Jupp helped him into the airlock, then
detached the tether and watched him disappear through.
    In their orbital minuet, they had tipped so
that now they were not aligned with the Earth beneath them. The
fierce blue line of the Earth’s horizon made a cockeyed angle over
one of the bay doors. Jupp looked up at the menacing hulk of the
Cosmos spinning its grisly cargo a hundred feet over his head. His
body felt encased in electric ice. He stared at the Cosmos, and
then decided on a plan. He had to move before he thought about it
too deeply. He selected and attached a tether. He reached for the
thruster controls that extended forward on an arm from the
backpack, gently fired the bottom thruster and rose up out of the
bay.
    The tether stopped him opposite the middle of
the Cosmos. He watched the spinning craft carefully, calculating
how long it would take him at full thrust to cross the void. He
used the tether and his thrusters to line up precisely with the
laser port, the easiest point to grab hold. Then he pointed himself
headfirst at the Cosmos. He got himself as steady as he could and
then detached the precious tether. The movement rotated him
slightly. He resisted the impulse to grab for the security of the
tether and used the thrusters to realign himself. He thought it
would take about ten seconds, half a rotation time.
    He watched the laser port pass from his left
to his right, one stubby wing, another.
    NOW! he screamed silently to himself and hit
the thruster at the bottom of the backpack, producing a long
continuous jet.
    He accelerated toward the equator of the
spinning cylinder. Another blunt wing passed. Too slow. Too
slow!
    Then the next wing passed, and he could see
the port. He was almost there. But the port moved on. He had to get
there before the next wing swept by, leaving him to crash into the
smooth side, nothing to grip. Too close. Too close!
    He was moving in rapidly, the crucial wing
swinging toward him, right at him! He threw out his left arm,
fending off the rotating wing, deflecting himself toward the laser
port, menace and salvation.
    The swinging appendage crashed into his arm,
sending a jolt up through his shoulder. A moment later he collided
headfirst with the hull of the Cosmos. The wing swept him