On Mars Pathfinder (The Mike Lane Stories Book 1) Read Free

than heard, a light thunk as it snapped into its cradle. The hatch swung shut, the green lights on the seal came on, and the indicators locked. Awesome. The port side solar wing was a different story. I ran the retraction procedure on the computer, and it showed the retraction was in progress, but when I looked out the port window, nada. Nothing was happening. It was not folding up into its original accordion shape. It was extended, and just sitting there. I re-started the computer sequence and again, all showed working fine. I looked back out the portal and the solar wing sat there, doing nothing, mocking me. I let out a string of expletives under my breath, and sent a quick message to Terra. I went on with some of the other work until the reply came back from Earth. They told me to look out the starboard window; the solar wing that I had successfully packed up was fully extended. The string of expletives got a little bluer.
    They responded that it was a software glitch. The port wing retractor was actually firing the starboard wing extender procedures. They said to retract the starboard wing, and then retract the port wing manually. My mood brightened a bit at that. While I had trained for it quite extensively, I never had a reason to go EVA during the trip as of yet. I was finally going on a spacewalk !! Yayyy !!
    I ran the retraction procedure again for the starboard wing, and looked through the portal to make sure it was indeed moving. While that was in progress, I got into my pressure suit, ran the prewalk checks on the environment controls of the space suit, and made sure the oxygen bottles were full. Why don’t they call them nitrogen bottles anyways? The air we breathe on Earth is 78% nitrogen, 20% oxygen, and a handful of other gases including carbon dioxide, neon, methane and helium: so really, why don’t we call them nitrogen bottles? I digress. I pulled on the lower body torso and legs of the space suit, and then wiggled into the upper torso and arms of the suit. The waist seal got a solid lock the first try. I put on the helmet, powered up the suit, and checked the diagnostic readings and oxygen flow. All was good. I shut down the system and then waited for the starboard wing to finish retracting, again. Finally there was the soft thunk sound of the cradling. I confirmed visually that the hatch was closed, and then shut down the program that controlled the solar wings. I didn’t want it’s “glitch” to decide to re-launch the starboard wing while I was out working on the port wing.
    I made sure the water bag was full in my space suit. This was a device that allowed me to drink water through the sippy-hose; not to be confused with the other water bag, which would be almost full by the time I was done. I filled the pressure suit with air, and I put on the helmet. I had to re-set it twice before I could lock it in place. I put on the gloves, sealed them, and then closed my visor. Reaching around behind my helmet, I tightened the locking screw on the visor armature. I didn’t want to wind up like Nick Piantanida.
    I may have made the whole space suit thing sound easy, but it’s not. On Earth I had three people helping me to put it on. In zero-g it was easier to get into; but it still had its challenges. The pressure suit underneath the space suit took almost 20 minutes to put on. The rest of the suit took about an hour to get on and hooked up properly. I always wondered why astronauts in space looked like rag dolls with their arms and legs splayed when resting. It’s because of the pressure suit. The pressure suit is pumped up with gas to keep your innerds, from becoming your outerds. Combined with the space suit it makes movement very unorganic. You have to be physically strong and have a good deal of stamina to work in a pressure suit/space suit. If the space suit itself had been pumped up to pressure, it would be useless for movement; hence the two suits. A few hours of EVA, and you can lose a few pounds