Orbital

Sixteen Night Bird

I’ve been launched into space twice in my life. The first time an emergency alarm went off shortly after we reached orbit, which was just the beginning of a series of events that lead me to returning to space days later cramped inside a stealth spaceship that launched from a faux version of the spaceship I’m in now.

This time I have the Unicorn capsule all to myself. Unicorn X67. The “X” means that it’s a military mission and the flight plan a secret.

Of course, The Russians, the Chinese and anybody else with a telescope in orbit, which now even includes some state colleges, can watch the launch and see my ship as it docks with a military satellite.

What they don’t know — or at least I hope is the case — is that the Ulysses-class satellite I’m docking with is actually a Space Ops orbital platform hiding another Unicorn and the new DarkStar stealth ship.

Everything goes smoothly as the computer matches trajectory and brings me into a gentle linkup with the Night Bird.

“Who thought up that name?” asks Laney over the comm.

“I like it,” I reply.

“Yeah. Cause it sounds like some spy thing.”

“Well, um, newsflash.”

“Well, um, status update, isn’t the point of spy code names not to sound like something a spy would use? Which sounds more suspicious, Night Bird or Lily Pad?”

I unbuckle myself from my chair and drift over to the airlock. “I’m not launching a mission from “Lily Pad.” Besides, it’s called NB1 over the radio.”

“Okay, Nancy Boy.”

“Are you talking to me or the Night Bird?”

“You decide.”

I check the readout on the hatch. The other side appears fully pressurized, but I keep my helmet on in case the air has gone bad or there’s a sealing problem. It’d suck to be crawling halfway through the airlock and have the docking collar give way.

“Opening the X67 interior hatch,” I call into the radio.

“Affirmative,” says Baylor.

The upper hatch slides inwards, exposing the door to the Night Bird.

“I have visual with the NB1 hatch.”

“Okay, unlocking the NB1,” says Baylor.

To prevent anyone from doing what I’m going to attempt with the CS626, the only way into the Night Bird is by having someone on the ground visually confirm who is outside and then remotely unlock the door.

There’s a click behind the metal wall as the deadbolts retract. I grab the handle, give it a twist and push the satellite’s hatch.

It retracts back into the lower airlock and I’m looking down a small T-junction. To one end is the Unicorn module; the other leads to the DarkStar.

“I’m going to open the DarkStar hatch before transferring my equipment.”

“Affirmative,” says Baylor.

I pull myself through the small passage and towards the first airlock that leads to the DarkStar. An interior panel allows me to unlock it and gain access to the stealth ship hatch.

The back of the craft is covered in an energy absorbing paint that makes it impossible to see any details. Even the thrusters have vents that normally remain closed, making them radar invisible.

Fortunately, a new trick they added is red tracer light that glows when you get close to the ship.

The whole ship is less than four feet across and ten feet long. Just wide enough for you to slip inside in a spacesuit. While this one has more space than the first one, it’s already taken up by a 3D printer, extra fuel tanks and the equipment I’m going to load onboard.

If that doesn’t sound cramped enough, the alternatives are even more frightening. Back in the Space Ops prototyping lab I saw a rocket-assist pack for a spacesuit capable of taking someone from low Earth orbit to geosynchronous. Whereas the DarkStar works by basically turning the spare space in a rocket engine into a compartment, the added rocket-assist gets rid of the compartment entirely.

They’ve also got a new stealth spacesuit that looks as skintight as a wetsuit. I’m not sure how much protection that will provide from radiation and micro-meteorites and makes me worry that they consider astronauts disposable commodities.

You would think they would be using robots and drones for more of this kind of work right now, but the military has taken a sharp U-turn in their reliance in some artificially intelligent systems.

Rumor has it that the Russians and Chinese have been catching up quickly with the ability to hack these machines, developing their own super-computers for the specific purpose of battlefield infiltration. A little thing called “Rowhammer” has everyone spooked.

A couple years ago there was an attack on a US airbase by one of our own drones. Conspiracy theorists want everyone to believe it was a machine uprising. The cold hard reality is that some hacker, possibly working out of Beijing or Moscow found a back door and decided to test it.

For an Air Force general with a fleet of aircraft that’s overwhelmingly controlled remotely, or by AI, it’s a scary thought to realize the next Pearl Harbor could be your own planes bombing you.

Which I guess is I why I’m here, and not some construction robot like the kind they’re using to make the US/iC space station.

“How’s it going?” asks Laney.

“Contemplating why I’m here and not a robot.”

“Robots are expensive and smart enough to say ‘no’.”

“Right. Remind me to tell you about my last job when I get back.”