Orphans of Apollo - S2 E9
September 2056
New to the series: start here
From the ashes of forgotten space dreams, a new era of exploration begins.
Subscribe now to make sure you don’t miss any future episodes.
Previously: Lana wakes up onboard the C-17 en route to Antartica. As they begin final preparations for their drop, she discusses her misgivings around being mission commander with Aiden.
One by one, they climbed the shortened ladder up to the crew compartment. In the cabin were two rows of three seats. The back row were the “passenger” seats. These had no controls, just a communication interface. In the front row furthest from the door sat Aiden. He would pilot the lander down to the surface. Lana occupied the commander’s position in the middle and to her right was Pieter Van Der Watt.
After the front row was all in place, Joanna Medley, Zawadi Mwangi and Brant Adams climbed up to join them. Aiden was already scrolling through pages on the large touch screen in front of him, checking out the lander’s systems. Brant was the last to strap in. Once Brant was connected to communications and life support, the tech wished them luck and closed the hatch. The mission timer on the screen in front of Lana read thirty minutes to drop.
During this last half an hour there was little for the crew to do. The lander was checked out and they had completed all of their comms checks. Now they were just waiting for the C-17 to cover the last few hundred miles above the barren ice towards Concordia Station.
Opened in 2005 as a joint French-Italian research station, Concordia Station lay about 1,200km inland from McMurdo Station. It sat 10,600ft above sea level, deceptively high, as all that surrounded it was the vast Antarctic Plateau. A barren landscape even more featureless than the surface of the moon. Christian Larsson had negotiated with the French and Italian Antarctic research institutes to have the FASS Lunar Analogue base located 200km south of Concordia. In the event of any incidents, personnel from Concordia could provide assistance.
“Ten minutes to drop,” came the call over the intercom from the C-17 loadmaster.
“Copy, ten minutes,” replied Lana.
“Ok, you are on your own now, good luck!”
“Thanks for the ride. Have a safe flight back.”
From this point onwards, they would have no more communication with the C-17 crew or the FASS support crew that had travelled with them. The mission had begun. Once they dropped out the back of the C-17, they would have a satellite link back to mission control at FASS headquarters. The link was artificially delayed by twenty minutes, to simulate the communications delay of a deep space mission. This was not strictly representative of being on the Moon, but it would be for Mars and other deep space missions. It was an extra dynamic for the crew to have to deal with. Of course, FASS mission control monitored the base and its systems in real time, and could override the communications delay during emergencies.
One by one, they clicked their visors down, sealing their helmets. Joanna nudged Brant with her elbow and he clicked his visor down. She smiled back at him. He liked to tease her by pretending to be even more laid back than he was. She enjoyed having to remind him of things he should know better.
“One minute,” called Aiden. He watched their position on the screen, moving closer to the “spot” where they would automatically be released.
The small drogue parachute was released from the top of the parachute pack attached to the open loading ramp of the C-17. It popped open and bounced around in the airflow below the tail of the aircraft, like a small dog tugging a piece of rope, shaking back and forth and pulling to no avail. Then a few seconds later, the distance to go hit zero and the small pyrotechnics released three larger parachutes, which the drogue pulled cleanly away from the back of the aircraft. They opened and pulled their lines tight, pausing for the briefest of moments before the now released lander slid smoothly out of the hold.
Inside the lander the crew were sat facing the rear of the aircraft. As the lander accelerated along the runners on the floor of the aircraft they were momentarily pushed into their seats. Then it dropped and as it cleared the ramp, three larger parachutes were released and began to open, agonisingly slowly at first. Although the C-17 had slowed considerably, the forces on the lines were incredible. If the parachutes were to open straight away it would snap the lines, or pull them out of their attachment points. The bottom of the lander briefly caught the oncoming air. It tipped partway over, then as the parachutes opened more and pulled the lines tight, it settled, and swung slowly down so it hung serenely below them.
Zawadi took a deep breath. A thin layer of cold sweat covered her whole body, but at least the nausea had subsided. She swallowed the bile at the back of her throat. That was close. The lander only had small windows and from the back row with their helmets on it was hard to see anything out of them. Even for someone accustomed to flying, when the motion detected by the vestibular system does not agree with the visual input, the body’s reaction is nausea.
“Descent rate is slowing,” called Aiden, “and stabilised.”
“Well, that was a hell of a ride, everyone ok?” Asked Lana.
There were several muted responses. The lander continued its gentle descent.
“Alright, time to stick the landing,” said Pieter. “5,000ft to go.”
“We’re a little left of track,” said Aiden, intently focused on the screen in front of him. “Looks like the wind is stronger than we thought.”
Even through their sealed helmets the crew could hear the little puffs of the thrusters keeping the trajectory of the descending lander stable. The rate at which they were firing seemed to increase.
“Don’t think we are going to make the landing site.” The wind is too strong. I just don’t have enough control with these thrusters.
“3,000ft,” called Pieter.
“As long as you can find us a nice smooth spot, we’ll bring the rovers over. Don’t worry about being off a little,” said Lana.
At least the ride has smoothed out. What’s a little extra drive in the rovers? Thought Zawadi.
“2,000ft.”
“Shit, that wind is definitely stronger than forecast,” said Aiden, a trace of frustration creeping into his voice.
“Easy does it. As long as we stay the right way up, it’s all good,” said Lana encouragingly.
“1,000ft.”
Aiden forced himself to blink as he intently watched the display in front of him.
“500ft.”
The small motor on the bottom of the lander fired and reduced the descent rate, also giving Aiden more control over the landing.
“Looking good, 400ft,” called Pieter.
“We’re really getting pulled to the left now. It’s hard to correct for. I’m just going to go with it, then null out the sideways just before touchdown.”
“Sounds good,” said Pieter encouragingly. “300ft to go.”
“200.”
“100.” It was a different voice, the automated voice of the lander’s avionics. It was now counting down the height based off the radar altimeter on the bottom of the lander.
“50…40…30…20…10…touchdown,” the computer called out unemotionally.
“Confirm touchdown,” said Pieter.
The red light caught Aiden’s attention instantly. Shit, the parachutes didn’t detach. He pushed the manual release. Nothing.
“Good job people,” said Lana, sounding relieved.
“Not so fast. We might have a problem.” There was a jolt as the lander slid sideways, then stopped.
“Are the parachutes still attached?” Asked Pieter.
“Yes.”
“What about the manual release?” An accusatory tone in his voice.
“It’s not working.” Said Aiden, pushing the button again.
There was another jolt as the lander was pulled sideways again by the now redundant parachutes.
“There must be a good thirty-five knots out there the way we are getting dragged. We are going to have to do something before we get tipped over and dragged like a rag doll,” said Pieter.
“Brant, open the survival kit behind your seat and grab the knife,” Lana ordered. “When you’ve got it, Pieter, I want you to open the hatch and help Brant out so he can climb on the roof and cut the parachutes free.”
“Roger,” said Pieter. Brant was already unbuckling his safety belts and turning around to grab the pack behind him.
“How far away are the rovers?” Asked Lana.
“Looks like we landed about 1,500m from our intended landing site, so they must be about 2Km away.” Replied Aiden.
“Ok mark a point 100 metres upwind from our current location and get them heading over here.”
“Will do.”
“Everyone else, keep your belts on until we get the parachutes free.”
“Got it!” Said Brant as he pulled the knife from the survival kit bag.
As he did, the lander jolted sideways, knocking the knife out of his hand.
“Shit.”
The lander slid along, the legs began digging deeper and deeper into the snow. Now they reached the point where even with the pull from the three large parachutes, they couldn’t dig in any deeper. The lander began to tip.
The knife slid along under the back row of seats and hit the wall next to Zawadi’s seat.
“Shit, now we are going to get tipped over!” Said Pieter. “Quick, Zawadi, grab that knife from under your seat and pass it here.”
She undid her belts, reached down and grabbed the knife, quickly passing it to Joanna in the middle seat. Outside, the wind abated and the lander crashed back down onto all four legs. Joanna fumbled with the knife but held onto it and handed it to Brant.
“Right Pieter, open the hatch,” said Lana.
“Who’s crazy idea was it to make a hatch that open upwards,” grumbled Pieter as he twisted the handle and pushed the door outwards.
“Hey, you’re not the one who has to climb up past it,” exclaimed Brant.
“Ok people, let’s get on with this before we get tipped over and dragged along the ice like a child's toy,” said Lana.
“Do you think we should use the emergency non-delayed link to call mission control and ask them for any suggestions?” Asked Joanna.
“That will not achieve anything. I can’t see them suggesting anything else,” snapped Pieter.
“Pieter’s right Joanna, there’s not a lot they can do for us right now,” agreed Lana.
Brant eased himself to the door and exited backward to the small ledge just outside.
“I reckon you should be able to get your right leg onto that thruster cluster,” said Pieter.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m going for,” said Brant. “Hey Aiden, make sure you’ve got those things safed, would you.”
Aiden doubted himself for a second and looked up at the screen in front of him. “Don’t worry, they are deactivated.”
“Good, that could really ruin my day.”
“When you get up there though if we get another gust, what about using the thrusters to try and keep us from tipping?” Suggested Aiden.
“No. It’s too dangerous,” said Lana. “If he gets near one of those jets by accident it will cut a limb off.”
This would be soo much easier in one sixth gravity on the moon. Thought Brant as he extended his leg and pushed himself up on the thruster cluster. But then, of course, these stupid parachutes would have been useless anyway. He could feel the wind whipping around his suit, and he was sweating now. With the visor down there was no way of telling it was almost negative forty outside. He grabbed an antenna and pulled himself onto the roof.
“Ok I’m up.”
“No time like the present. What are you waiting for?” Called Pieter.
Brant pulled the knife from the leg pocket of his suit. As he did, another gust began to inflate the parachutes again. The lines went taut.
“Here we go again people,” said Brant.
“Quick! Cut the lines before we tip again,” said Pieter.
“No, wait!” Said Lana. “I don’t want you sliding off the roof. Hang on until the gust has subsided and be ready to do it during the next lull.”
“Ok,” agreed Brant.
“We might not get another chance, Lana,” said Pieter.
“I don’t want him falling off!”
The lander tipped as the wind-speed increased. Brant held onto the edge of the roof to steady himself. “Wooahh!” He exclaimed.
“We’re past thirty degrees,” said Aiden, looking at the artificial horizon instrument in front of him. “That’s further than last time, and we’re still going.”
“It’s going to go over! I’m going to cut now!”
“Wait!” Said Lana.
A line rose from each corner of the lander and joined into a single line which ran to the parachutes. With the parachutes pulling from the side, Brant could reach both the lines from the hatch side of the lander easily. Being on top of the lander, the lean felt even more pronounced to him. If I don’t cut these, we are going to go over! He reached up and with the lines taut, he could easily cut through them with one hand. He cut the first. The lander twisted slightly as the load was released from that corner.
“Brant, wait!” Called Lana as she felt the movement inside the cabin.
Brant cut through the line to the other corner. As soon as he did, he lost his footing when the now released lander dropped away from beneath his feet. It crashed back onto all four legs. Momentum took over and with nothing to hold onto Brant cartwheeled off the roof, and was flung over the open hatch. As he fell towards the ice, he wished for the second time in five minutes that he was in the one sixth gravity of the Moon. He instinctively put his hands out to break his fall and hit left hand first. His arm buckled immediately and the visor of his helmet smashed into the ice.
“Ohhh,” he winced.
“Brant! Are you ok?” Asked Lana.
“Ahhh, shit, that hurts.”
“Just hang on, I’ll be right down. When that lander came down, I almost came flying out the door after you!” said Pieter, already turning to exit the lander backwards.
“How bad is it?” Said Lana, feeling completely helpless still strapped into her seat.
“It’s my arm, I think it’s just my arm… Shit, I think it’s broken.”
“Pieter, get down there to Brant. Aiden, how far away are the rovers?”
“I’m already on my way,” said Pieter, as he stepped off the last rung of the lander.
“They will be here in about 8 minutes.”
“Ok everyone, lets disembark, before anything else happens,” said Lana.
If you know someone you think would enjoy “Orphans of Apollo” or any of the other writing in “Explorations” please share this publication with them.
I hope you enjoyed the latest episode of Orphans of Apollo. Although they have had a bit of a rough start Lana and her crew are now about to get started on their space analogue mission in Antarctica.
When I first became aware of space analogues, I thought they were quite frankly a bit silly. Just a bunch of nerds wearing pretend space suits walking around playing at being astronauts. How was this useful at all? How wrong I was.
I started a non-fiction post about space analogues a while back. This post details their origins and the valuable lessons they offer. I was hoping to have it go out around this point in the story, but it’s not quite finished.
Just by chance today I was listening to season 2 episode 2 of the For All Mankind official podcast and they discuss how valuable analogue missions can be for understanding crew dynamics. If you haven’t seen For All Mankind, where have you been? This is an excellent alternative history/science fiction show. I can’t wait for season 5, which is apparently coming out later this year.
Thanks for reading,
Alex
Brilliantly managed tension (pardon the pun!) in this chapter!