Skyfall

“We know they won't, they're designed for maneuver inside the cabin. But you'll be able to get at least a meter outside which is enough leeway for you to strap into the AMU. Pull it as close to the hull as you can — but don't take off its safety hold-down yet. There's a wide lap strap to hold you into position. Take both ends at once, pull up on them which will seat you, then latch. Do you have that?”

“Roger.”

“Then exit through the hatch. Coretta, try and give me a running commentary so I'll know how it's going.”

“Sure. Going out now. A tight squeeze, but going through nicely. I'm paying out the umbilicals….”

Gregor was sweating heavily, panting with exertion. By now he was used to the lack of gravity and the way inanimate objects seemed to have life and motions of their own. This moving around would not have been too bad if he had not been restricted by the suit. Every action had to be a forceful one and, if he dared relax his arms, they tended to stick straight out from his body. The simple act of getting into the bulky, chair-like form of the AMU, the Astronaut Maneuvering Unit, proved almost impossible. Either he was moving or the AMU was, usually in opposite directions.

“Take a rest,” Coretta ordered. “You're panting like a bulldog in heat. Let things quiet a bit or you are going to overload your cooling unit.”

“She's right,” Patrick said.

“Must… finish this… a moment more…”

Angry at himself for being so clumsy, Gregor seized both ends of the straps and pulled them tight, damping the movement of the AMU. They were spinning together now — but at least it was together. He closed his eyes against the vertigo and hauled on the straps until the ends came together — and he clipped shut the belt.

“A great job,” Coretta said, smiling at his victorious thumbs-up signal, using the umbilicals to damp his motion. “In the AMU and ready for the next step,” she said.

“Be very careful about sequence now,” Patrick said. “Coretta, have you the safety line rigged? With one end attached inside?”

“Done as directed,” she answered, giving the nylon line one last tug to make sure it was secure.

“Good. Clip the other end to Gregor's belt — not to the chair. After this is done plug the short leads of the AMU umbilicals into the receiver on Gregor's suit.”

“In place.”

“All right, Gregor, you can turn the selector valve from the U position to the AM.”

Gregor took the lever clumsily in his gloved fingers and pushed, hard. It did not move.

“It won't go, “he said.

“It happens.” Patrick's voice was calm, emotionless. “Traces of water in the oxygen, there can be ice. Try working it back and forth, a little at a time.”

“There… it is moving a bit… a bit more… done!”

“Very good. Coretta, first close the valve on his umbilicals, there at the bulkhead, then disconnect them.”

It was done quickly, the disconnected umbilicals floating inside the cabin; Gregor in space outside totally dependent upon the life systems of the AMU.

“Can you read me, Gregor?” Patrick asked.

“Very clearly.”

“You are on the AMU radio connection now which is channeled through the intercom circuits. On the outside of the hull is an aerial to pick up your signal. You may get far enough around the ship for it to thin the signal or even lose it. Keep thinking about this so we don't get out of touch. You're on your own now, but you will keep the safety line connected. That way Coretta can pull you back in at any time. You can start working your way back down the hull now. Moving safety clips as you go.”

“Shouldn't I use the gas jets…”

“Negative! They are tricky to use and take a lot of practice. Forget about them now. Just think of the AMU as a big pack on your back and drag it along with you.”

“Vas ponyal, here I go.”

“Do you have all the tools you need?” Nadya said, speaking for the first time.

What a fool I am, Patrick thought. I can't see what is going on out there, can't keep track of everything. “Thank you, Nadya,” he said. “I should have remembered. The cutting torch is still back by the engines, along with most of the tools. But for this you will need the hydraulic jack as well. Coretta, will you get it and clamp it to the AMU where Gregor can reach it.”

It was not easy going. Coretta leaned far out the hatch to watch Gregor's progress; they could all hear the rasp of his breath in their ears. The AMU was like the old man of the sea on his back. Instead of giving him freedom, moving him about, it got in the way of all his motions. Of course it had no weight in free fall — but it still had mass. It took effort to get it moving, and once in motion the same amount of effort to stop it. Whenever he moved the off-center mass had a tendency to start him spinning. All he could do then was reel in the short line that clamped him to the hull, hold himself tight against it until the motion had been damped. Then attach to a new anchor and crawl slowly on.

“At the engine,” he finally gasped, a breathless cry of victory.