A Step Beyond Read Free

correct the
Volnost
’s trajectory and continue to Mars. Upon their arrival they could dock with the sister ship, refuel, and conduct repairs. They would then return to Earth as soon as the launch window opened. But for that to happen, the damage had to be minimal, and given what they already knew, that did not seem likely.
    “Everybody make sure your oxygen masks are secure,” Titov said once he was certain the fittings of the hardsuit were properly fastened. He held Chertok by the shoulders. “Are you ready?”
    “Yes,” Chertok replied.
    Titov opened the portal separating the aft cabin and mid-cabin, allowing Chertok to step through. Upon entering the cabin, Chertok stopped to survey his surroundings as the door closed behind him. By the dim light of the emergency lamps, he could make out the microscope on the laboratory bench to his left, and directly above him a stationary bike; the control console was to his left on the forward wall. The room was compact and for that reason had always seemed disorganized, but as far as he could tell everything was in its proper place.
    He carefully made his way toward the control console. Upon reaching the console he engaged the emergency power and switched on the lights. The sound of his breathing, amplified by the silence, reverberated through his helmet as he rotated slowly. The room was hauntingly still. He spoke into his microphone.
    “Everything appears to be in order, nothing damaged or disturbed. I will proceed to the forward portal.”
    “Be careful.”
    Chertok obtained a high-powered flashlight from a supply cabinet and propelled himself in the direction of the flight deck. Although he had expected some damage, he was not at all prepared for the devastation he saw. For nearly a minute he stared in disbelief, without speaking, without hearing Titov’s voice demanding a response. There was a blackened body, arms extended, floating in the middle of the room. Chertok felt a surge of nausea. He started gasping for air—and as the initial symptoms of hyperventilation seized him, he regained his senses enough to decrease the oxygen flow through his suit. He became aware of Titov’s anxious voice ordering him to report.
    “Sergei . . .” He swallowed and began again. “Sergei is dead. I can see his body. The flight deck console is destroyed.”
    “Clarify ‘destroyed,’ Mikhail.”
    “It is not there. Gone. Torn from the wall. Just a bunch of dangling wires. Hold on . . . There is a hole.”
    “How wide is the breach?”
    “Approximately twenty centimeters in diameter.”
    Twenty centimeters, thought Titov. What in the world could blow a hole in the side of his hull twenty centimeters wide? A meteoroid possibly. The
Volnost
was constantly being bombarded by micrometeoroids; in fact, Russian scientists had estimated the ship would be struck over two billion times in the course of its journey by particles less than one-ten-thousandth of a gram. But the
Volnost
had an outer shell that protected it against such collisions. He estimated the object would have had to be at least a gram in size to pierce the shell. The odds were less than one in ten thousand that they would be struck by a particle that large.
    It was more likely that the breach had been caused by an internal explosion, he thought. Considering the amount of time and effort expended to ensure the safety of the ship, such an explosion seemed unlikely. But not as unlikely as being struck by a meteoroid large enough to wreak this degree of havoc. The Russian engineers had not provided him with the probability of such an occurrence, just their assurance it would not happen. It was a recognized danger, and contingency plans had been prepared, but their effectiveness depended upon the extent of the damage.
    “Any indication of what may have created the hole?” Titov asked.
    “It is too dark to make out much detail.”
    “Is the metal at the edge of the opening bent inward or outward?” Gorbatko asked. His