Every crewmember was required to get a physical exam before flight, so that was Boomer’s first stop. Afterward, he stopped at Mission Planning to check on the flight schedule, which was being set up and verified by computer and then loaded into the spaceplane’s computers. His own S-29 Shadow spaceplane was being loaded with much-needed supplies for Armstrong and the ISS, so he would arrive first. Gonzo’s S-19 Midnight spaceplane had the passenger module on board in the cargo bay. She would take off, arrive at Joint Base Andrews near Washington just a couple hours later, pick up the vice president and her Secret Service detail, and fly her to Armstrong about four hours after he arrived at Armstrong.
Next stop was life support. While Hermosillo needed help to get into his Advanced Crew Escape Suit, suiting up was relatively easy for Boomer. The EEAS, or Electronic Elastomeric Activity Suit, was like a heavy union suit, made of silvery radiation-proof carbon-fiber threads that covered every part of the body from the top of the neck to the bottoms of the feet. After putting on electronically controlled insulated underwear, which would control his body temperature during a spacewalk, Boomer slipped into the EEAS, then into boots and gloves, locking in the connectors for each, plugged his suit into a test console, then put on his prebreathing mask.
After making sure there were no deep folds or crinkles and that his testicles and penis were arranged properly, he plugged the suit into a test console and hit a button. The suit instantly constricted tightly around every square inch of his body that came into contact with it, making him involuntarily grunt aloud—the source of the suit’s nickname and pseudonym for EEAS, “EAHGHSS!” But moving about and especially spacewalking would be much easier for him than it would be for someone in an oxygen-inflated ACES, because the suit would automatically readjust around his body to maintain pressure on the skin without creating any binding or causing changes in pressure. The human body’s vascular system was already pressure-sealed, but in a vacuum or at a lower-atmospheric pressure, the skin would bulge outward if it were not constrained; the ACES did it with oxygen pressure, while the EEAS did it with mechanical pressure.
“I always think I’d like to try one of those things,” Ernesto said on intercom, smiling and shaking his head while he watched Boomer preflight his suit, “and then I watch you hit the test switch, and it looks like you get kicked in the nuts every time, so I change my mind.”
Boomer shut off the test switch to relax the suit. “Takes a little getting used to,” he admitted.
They finished getting suited up, then sat in comfortable chairs while they received a crew briefing by the chief mission planning officer, Alice Wainwright, via video teleconference. The route of flight got Boomer’s attention right away. “Uh, Alice? Given the reason we’re doing all this, is this really the route of flight we should be taking?” he asked over the intercom.
“The computers don’t know about politics or Gryzlov, Boomer—all they know is desired final position, bearing, velocity, gravity, orbital mechanics, thrust, position of station, and all that good stuff,” Alice said. “Station needs the equipment as soon as possible.”
There was a process called the “accident chain,” Boomer knew: a series of minor and seemingly unrelated incidents that combine to cause an accident—or in this case, an encounter with a Russian antisatellite weapon. One of the more common incidents was “get the mission done—it’s important; disregard safety and common sense and just get it done.” That’s what was happening right now—link number one in the accident chain had just appeared. “It can’t wait one more day or even a few hours?” Boomer asked.
“I mapped out all of the launch windows and flight paths, Boomer,” Alice said. “All of the others fly over populated areas, and people have complained about the sonic booms.” Link number two. “Since the Russians disconnected the ROS from the International Space Station, both Canada and Mexico and a bunch of other countries are expressing deep reservations about allowing spaceplanes to fly over their territory until above the Kármán level. It’s this flight or nothing for two days.”
That alarm bell was going off in his head as link number three joined the others, but he knew Armstrong and the ISS needed the supplies, and those left on the ISS needed them badly—or was he now forging his own links in the accident chain? “Are we going to notify the Russians of our missions?” he asked.
“That’s standard procedure,” Alice said. “Apparently Space Command thinks Gryzlov is bluffing. We’re going to keep on normal protocols.”
The fourth link in the accident chain had just been forged, Boomer thought—this was not looking good. He turned to Ernesto. “?Qué te parece, amigo? What do you think, buddy?”
“Vamos, comandante,” Ernesto said. “Let’s go, Commander. Gryzlov doesn’t have the cojones.” Was that yet another link? Boomer wondered.
“Any other questions, Boomer?” Alice asked a little impatiently. “You step in ten minutes, and I still have to brief Gonzo and Sondra.”