NEWMAN

Frank had said it was going to be a needle in a barn problem, but finding a needle was always easier if you had a big magnet. Or, in their case, a sense of the magnetic field of Earth, and how tiny bits of metal – like a Chinese space station – interacted with it.

It had taken them 41 orbits to get there. Timekeeping without accurate clocks was going to be hard. She'd noticed they had a strong sense of time, but that was not the same as atomic-precision clocks, now a thing of the past or a subject of wishful nostalgia. As a result, orbits were now the main time unit since entering or exiting orbit were the only clearly defined points.

The big problem was that, of course, that time “unit” varied a lot. They were now on a different schedule than the ISS. While the boosted station was now closer to 15 orbits per old-style day due to its higher altitude, their schedule was going to be closer to 16, since the Tiangong’s original orbit was lower and they were trying to match it.

They’d established that their voice went at least 2000 miles. Once the ISS was under the lip of the horizon, Frank and Yaytsev’s were no longer “audible”, confirming it be akin to long-range radio, blocked by Earth. They’d heard them again twice as their different orbits came close enough.

It was moderately terrifying to be that separated.

‟That’s definitively it,” Shuko confirmed.

‟So, let’s align, and see what we get,” Juliana said.

They extended their grab and started speeding up, catching up to the faint disturbance in the distance.

As they came within fifty miles, they spread out and braked, trying to match the orbital speed.

‟That’s a wild maneuver,” Shuko noted.

‟And impossible without that fuel-less propulsion,” she said.

The three Spaceborne had almost aligned their orbit trajectories as the station started to become visibly distinct rather than a distant point. Eyes, even if you had four adapted for a space environment, were not the best tools.

At least at range. Now that the station was closer, she saw the details that the magnetic field impact did not provide. And while she knew intellectually it was different from the ISS, seeing it with her own changed eyes further reinforced the feeling.

The station looked crooked. She knew it was mostly due to its partial status. Most of the station had been assembled the year before, and they had paused it while designing additional modules. But the smaller solar panels, the pair of modules coming at straight angles over the main central hub simply offended her sensibilities.

Of course, the actual shape of a station did not truly matter unless it was very, very large. But a station should look like, well, a station.

They were approaching at a speed that would probably be giving anyone sweat, finishing adjusting the speed and alignment, when Ivan finally spotted it.

‟Isn’t something missing?” he asked.

She took a second to realize what he was saying.

‟Shenzhou.”

There should have been a crew spaceship docked at the station. Just like the ISS had two right now, intended to be able to repatriate the full crew, Tiangong, the Heavenly Palace, should have one of the Chinese crew vessels ready.

‟It should be connected to one of those two docking ports,” Ivan insisted.

‟They left,” she said.

‟They tried,” Shuko countered.

The three stopped a few hundred yards from the station, finally at rest relative to their target.

‟So, what,” Ivan asked.

‟We check. The ports first,” she replied.

The various adapters and docking systems were all in their closed positions. It did not take much for them to check that. She had to acknowledge that being able to move quickly around, without worrying about safety margins and the other things that went with standard EVA was freedom that she liked. She had to be more careful, and more focused, when close to the station, because it interfered with the general magnetic flux from Earth, but that was quickly becoming easier with practice.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

‟No external traces of anything,” Ivan reported.

‟Everything looks fine. As fine as it can be in the shutdown, that is,” Shuko added.

‟Save for the lack of an attached vessel, it looks functional.”

‟The question is, did they leave?” Ivan asked.

‟Why wouldn’t they?” she asked back, surprised.

‟Who knows with the Chinese,” he said.

‟As much as my countrymen would besmirch China and its works, you don’t do a successful space program by being stupid, nor do you send idiots in space,” Shuko said.

‟Ivan has a point. We don’t know. There can be a different reason for their Shenzhou’s absence.”

‟Such as?” Shuko asked.

‟As he said. Who knows with the Chinese.”

She was still adjusting to the fact that she did not need to move to “face” anything, as she contemplated the station.

‟If they’re still in there…”

‟Without electronics, that’s hard to check. We can’t even try to bang on the station to attract their attention if they’re inside,” Shuko noted.

‟We wouldn’t hear the response. With a suit in EVA, conduction maybe. But in the void…”

‟And no ears anyway,” Ivan added.

Do we try to get in? she mused.

‟Okay, brainstorming. Option one, they left and it’s empty.”

‟Option two. They are changed, and they haven’t guessed they can live in space,” Shuko immediately said.

‟Option two-B. They are changed, and they’re locked in and can’t escape,” Ivan added.

‟Option three, they aren’t changed, and they’re stuck in there,” Shuko said.

‟Then they’re dead,” Ivan countered.

‟They might not be…”

‟It’s been days. Even before the full shutdown, we did everything to keep the air circulation going. CO2 absorption is mostly chemicals that should be working still, but without fans, it’s not going to work much. Obviously, if they’re changed into Spaceborne, that’s a non-factor. But for…” he hesitated “… baseline humans, it’s bad.”

‟Ok, option three-B, they’re dead in there then,” she said.

‟Anything else?” she asked after no one added anything.

‟Three-C. They took poison pills,” Ivan said.

‟That’s morbid. And the same as three-B.”

She contemplated the options since nobody had seen any she hadn’t thought of.

‟The only case where we shouldn’t try to get in is three-A, and even then…”

‟… they’ll die soon. In the darkness inside,” Ivan completed.

‟So, how do we get in?”

They spent more than three orbits trying everything. But the Heavenly Palace was not cooperating. There were almost no controls outside, and the few mechanical ones they found did not want to turn or anything. The three Spaceborne went over the entire station, checking every piece, but to no avail.

During the fourth orbit, the voices of the two Spaceborne back on the base came out, and they took a break to exchange news.

‟They’re foolish to risk reentry with the shutdown,” Frank commented.

‟It works like a Soyouz. They can – could, I mean – probably time it for a fast reentry and hope it lands somewhere in their homeland,” Yaytsev replied.

‟Yes, it looks like a bust,” Juliana informed them.

‟Want a non-functional circular saw? Cheap,” Frank joked back.

‟Ah. Ah,” she replied.

“It’s funny how low-tech we are now. Muscle or its electromagnetic equivalent, and nothing else,” she added.

‟In other news, I’m officially hungry, after all that fasting you forced on me. I picked something like a third of a ration, slapped it on me until it stuck, and I’m fine,” Frank went on.

‟We’ll try a few more things, but if nothing works, we’ll head back to the ISS soon.”

‟Well, keep us appraised. We’re looking for your return. Even if it’s completely dark inside and depressurized and all that, I’m still fond of the station. It’s kind of home now,” Frank said.

‟It’s our only food supply, you mean,” she replied.

‟That too.”

While the others were chatting a bit, Juliana focused on the food. They did need to eat – at least a rule of biology was respected – but they did it a lot less than they used to. Their six-month supply for humans probably meant something like four or five years for the five Spaceborne, maybe more.

She did not want to face this for now. Right now, she had a Chinese space station puzzle box to solve.

‟We can’t,” Shuko finally said.

‟You’re right,” she reluctantly admitted.

She wasn’t quite sure how their shrunken arms related to normal human strength, but even with all three, and anchoring themselves on magnetic fields, they couldn’t move any of the mechanical ports. She suspected that the station was still pressurized, and the only solution would be to drill at least until it depressurized. Except they did not have the tools for that.

‟So, let’s sleep here, and we’ll start back after.”

‟Do we need to sleep yet?” Shuko asked.

‟No, but I’d rather sleep anchored to the station here rather than drifting between orbits. I know we don’t close our eyes or anything, but we can try to force ourselves to sleep anyway,” she said.

‟Anyone standing guard?” Ivan asked.

‟Do we risk anything hitting? That’s basically what we need to watch for.”

‟Can’t help it. Although its orbit is lower, and there are not that many things in orbit at this level, I remember when they had to dodge some satellites at apogee,” Shuko said.

‟But the threat is mostly to the station. We’re much smaller targets,” he immediately added.

She pondered the dilemma for a few seconds.

‟Let’s stay synchronized then.”

They unrolled their wires, found some attachment points, and started strapping themselves around the station. Then, Juliana went silent, trying to drift to sleep. She wasn’t that tired, although there was a small sensation that could pass for tiredness. Very obviously, their circadian rhythms were different from a baseline human.

Low metabolism, I bet. Matches the fact that we don’t eat much, and seem to get lots of energy when the sun is shining on us.

Space was also silent when they were not talking. She tried to imagine herself trying to hear noises, the hum of the ISS, the soft noise of people going around. They always wore ear muffs, to suppress the environment of the ISS. Right now, she would have liked to be able to hear it.

Although if I could, I wouldn’t, because I’d be dead.

Sleep came by surprise, as she imagined faint, tiny songs coming from the heavens, far beyond Earth.

‟Commander? Commander?”

Returning to consciousness without needing to open eyelids was going to take being used to, Juliana thought.

‟Yes? Shuko?”

‟Ah. I was… worried.”

‟About what?”

‟It’s Ivan.”

‟What about Ivan?”

‟I can’t wake him up. He’s… totally unresponsive.”