Skyfall

“What does that mean in time?”

“No one seems to know exactly. Solar activity will lift up the top of the atmosphere. How much and how fast is still a guess. But soon. It could be before rendezvous, or just after it.”

“Not very heartening news.” Dillwater realized he was holding the phone so hard that his finger hurt; he forced himself to relax. “You have kept the crew of Prometheus informed, I take it?”

“Yes sir. They know everything we do as soon as we get the information. They are proceeding with the HOOPSNAKE project.”

“What? But I thought…”

“That it had been abandoned? No, sir. They feel that the threat of impact is a real one. And the chances of their being taken off before atmosphere contact only a fair possibility. Therefore they are initiating the HOOPSNAKE program just in case.”

“We should never have asked them,” Dillwater whispered, pounding his fist on the table as he spoke.

“I didn't hear that last---”

“Nothing. Please keep me informed of everything.”

* * *

Eighty-five miles high, Prometheus hurtled in its steady course. The great globe of the Earth below moved slowly by. They were over the Panama Canal now, but clouds and storms obscured any clear view. Beyond the blue of Earth the stars shone clearly in great profusion, the moon a clear disc, the sun a burning presence that could not be faced directly. Gregor kept his back to it, looking outward at the incredible vision of space as seen from space. He was the pendant spectator, the godlike eye, the vision apart from the world of his birth. Separated by space was the warmth, the water, the air of the planet, a bit of which he carried with him, just a few centimeters thick, the only barrier between himself and the deadly vacuum of space. Looking at the Earth like this he felt distant, yet so much a part of it, could see it more clearly than he ever could from the ground.

“Feeling rested, Gregor?” Patrick's voice echoed inside his helmet, drawing him back.

“Yes, much better really, just tired and hot there for a moment.”“

“You've done a lot.”

“Not everything.” He turned and looked at the jagged metal at the base of the ship. “The supports have been cut away so I can get close to the orifice. I've cut into the trumpet mounting and managed to fit in the jack so I levered it aside to get access to the thrust chamber. All that's left is to get inside the chamber and knock the light bulb out of the way.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I have a steel rod I cut loose. That should do the job.”

“Good luck.”

Coretta and Nadya spoke as well and he nodded, half listening but did not answer. This was the last challenge. He held the bar in his left hand, he had no way to tie it down securely, which made moving about difficult. The line he had clipped to the ship prevented much movement, and he saw no way to unclip it, move, then reclip it with one hand. He opened the fastening and let it float free. On the base of Prometheus here Coretta could not see him so she would not know what he had done. And she did hold the other end of the nylon safety line. She could reel him in to safety if he did move free of the ship. He did not intend to. There were handholds enough here among the braces and pipes.

Handgrip by handgrip he worked up to the thrust chamber he wanted. The two-meter-high trumpet mouths of the other chambers were on all sides of him, the other pipes and gear beneath his clutching hand. When his head was over the open mouth of the chamber he stopped, held on firmly until all movement had been damped, then clipped back onto the ship. The opening was like a black O-shaped mouth before him. The extension light was on the left side of the AMU. With precise motions he transferred the steel rod and groped for the light. It flicked on and cast a disc of light onto the dark metal, lit only by Earthlight. He found the mouth of the chamber, aimed the light and gasped.

He had not expected this. Instead of the soot-lined cavity or the burned mouth of a rocket, here was a three-meter-long chamber like Aladdin's cave. It was smooth lined, shining with reflected light, filled up the center with a delicate crystal structure. This was the tube everyone had referred to so disparagingly as the light bulb. It was more like a crystal chest of diamonds, glinting and glowing with gem like sparkle as the bright light played across its surface. As he moved the light shadows and illumination changed and the colors flowed and merged.

“Will you be able to break it up there?” Patrick asked, his voice coming from a great distance.

Gregor sighed and forced himself to return to the reality of the situation. This was no cathedral to the glories of the gods of science. It was a demolition site.

“Yes, I should be able to,” he said.

With the light in his left hand he pushed the steel rod slowly through the opening, down its full length until it hit against the quartz and rebounded. Now the shadow of his arm and the rod changed the illumination even more and the colors and lights sparkled and spun.