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         The hangar bay was a frenzy of activity, with people and machines moving this way and that across the metal floor, loading and unloading cargo from the various spacecraft parked in the hangars that lined the two side walls of the long bay. Jack made his way through the hubbub of activity to Bay Three where his own ship was parked. Up the airstairs and into the cabin. He threw his suitcase on the head table before making his way to the front of the craft and, finally, sitting down in the cockpit of his trusty Wayward Son. He flicked the start-up switch and watched as all the lights and viewscreens came to life. He gently wiped the dust off one of the indicators and smiled.
         After stretching and settling into his chair, he punched some digits into the computer monitor and took the cockpit mic to his mouth.
         “Helias 1 Flight Control. This is Captain Jack Fisher aboard shuttle-craft Wayward Son. Do you read?” He tapped the mic and waited a few seconds before impatiently trying again.
         “Helias 1. This is shuttle-craft Wayward Son. Do. you. read?”
         He checked Phaethian date on his monitor: Sunday, 30 Maymonth, 1985 P.R. “It’s bloody Sunday. What the hell’s taking them so long?” he grumbled.
         He was just about to try calling them again when a woman’s voice came crackling through the mic.
         “Shuttle-craft Wayward Son. This is Helias 1 Flight Control. We read you loud and clear.”
         Jack spoke into his mic, “Helias 1, this is the Wayward Son, parked in Hangar Bay Three. Requesting permission to disembark.”
         “Helias 1 Flight Control to shuttle-craft Wayward Son. All lanes are currently clear and you are clear to disembark. Ready to initiate disembarking sequence at your signal.”
         “Go.” said Jack. He tossed the mic aside and flicked some switches to retract the airstairs and close the hatch.
         “Initiating disembarking sequence, now.” said the woman’s voice from the co-pilot’s chair where Jack had thrown the mic.
         Alarm’s started ringing and red strobe lights flashed from the hangar ceiling. An automated voice came over the hangar bay loudspeakers.
         “Closing doors on Bay Three. Closing doors on Bay Three. All personnel stay clear.
         This phrase repeating as Jack heard the mechanical grinding and loud clank as the large inner bay doors closed behind him. He flicked another switch to ignite the thrusters. Next, the roaring sound of rushing air as the airlocked hangar was depressurised to vacuum, and then... silence outside the cockpit. And just as Jack was getting used to the eerie silence of the vacuum there came the unnerving sensation of falling as the hangar’s graviductors were shut off and Jack and his ship went instantly from experiencing one g-force to zero. Jack, firmly strapped to his seat, nevertheless felt the strangely relaxing feeling of being relieved of all the weight of his body as the mic slowly lifted up from the co-pilot seat and floated serenely through the cabin on its curly cord. Finally, the outer doors opened, revealing behind them the majestic array of stars against the inky blackness of space.
         Jack grabbed the mic from where it floated and pushed the button.
         “Captain Fisher to Helias 1, I am disembarking from Hangar Three.”
         “Copy that, Captain Fisher. Have a safe journey, and we hope you enjoyed your stay.”
         Jack pushed the mic aside and gently tapped his thrusters. The mic, floating above the co-pilot chair, was pushed into the back of the seat as the ship slowly exited the hangar into the emptiness of space. Before long, he had drifted a ways away from the station. Above him, he could see the vast, blue and green orb of Phaethon. When an indicator on his panel told him he was more than two hundred meters away from the station he flicked the graviductors on and turned the gravity dial until the mic fell back onto co-pilot seat and he sank comfortably into his own. About twenty minutes later, he had drifted far enough away from the station to swing his ship around and burn his thrusters to enter an orbit that passed over Buffelland and the city of Otranto.
         Once again, he punched some numbers into his console and lifted the mic to his mouth.
         “Come in West Paulatia Aerospace Control,” he said into the mic, “This is Captain Jack Fisher aboard shuttle-craft Wayward Son. Do you read?”
        
         Jack was about to start tapping his mic impatiently when a man’s voice came through it, bright and friendly.
         “Read you loud and clear, Jack, and I can see you on our scanners. What can I do for you today?”
         Jack grinned and put the mic to his mouth.
         “Hey, how ya doin’? I’m looking to land my craft somewhere in the vicinity of Otranto. Can you do that for me?”
         “Not a problem, Jack. Just let me take a look here, and I’ll get right back at you.”
         He put Jack on hold, but after a minute came right back on.
         “Yup,” he said, “there’s a runway open for you at Percival MacDougal Dominion Spaceport. That’s just outside the city on the south-east end. Does that work for you?”
         “I’ve been to Percy Mac before.” said Jack, “That works just fine. What’s the weather like down there?”
         “Let me see,” said the friendly man, “Bright blue skies, not a cloud to be seen. Should I let them know you’re coming?”
         “Yes, sir.”
         “Perfect. I will give them a holler and let them know you’re on your way. Feel free to touch down on your next pass.”
         “Excellent,” said Jack, “Well, you have a good day.”
         “You too, Jack. And enjoy your time on Phaethon.”
         Jack placed the mic back on its stand. He lit a cigar and leaned back. He relaxed and watched the planet with all its incredible surface features as they slowly passed above him. When his ship came around for its next pass, he rolled the ship so that it was right-side up to the planet and, when his computer gave the signal, punched the retro rockets to begin his descent. And as the roar of the atmosphere began rumbling outside the hull and red and orange streaks of superheated air appeared outside the windows as his craft streamed down through the atmosphere, Jack smiled. He was going home.


TO BE CONTINUED...






Page 16








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