Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
(Edmund Spenser)
Yep, there was the old blue-white globe, rolling into sight like a thunderhead. Just in time, as the main jets’ fuel gauge had just arrived at indicating nought. Well, the manoeuvring jets still had some juice. Jochen Zeislitz successfully fought the temptation to correct course. It wouldn’t work. Either Earth did indeed cross the dinghy’s preset path – or one was lost.
How fast? No idea. Raumkolonie ought to be able to detect the dinghies on their fumeo screen, and Prerow certainly was able to convert these readings into velocity information – after some minutes, when they had become utterly useless already. Actually, only Jochen’s intuition and experience would count.
And the blue-white mammoth was there, just as it should. Jochen fired the manoeuvring jets to achieve the best impact angle. Frigging “Pamina” had only a poor thermal sheet. The landers had been designed with Jupiter’s moons in focus, hence only thin gas envelopes had been considered.
Could one zigzag in the lower thermosphere, just above the mesopause? Up? And down again? It seemed to work. Yeah, he could manoeuvre, follow Earth’s bend instead of just pervading the atmosphere. Would the thermal sheet hold? No idea. Was it getting hotter in the boat? Obviously…
Okay, the spacesuits could stand not only cold. He had to risk it. Werner was reading the thermometer. The steel of the hull was good for 1.400° Celsius, or almost. Did braking work? No goddam idea… And up again. Fuel? As good as gone. Out!
Would Earth’s gravity catch “Pamina”? Or was the boat still too fast? Jochen – and everybody else – could only wait; all fuel was spent. Raumkolonie came on the air again as the boat shot out of the mesosphere. Wait, wait, wait… Yes, the trajectory wasn’t straight, it was slightly bent. It seemed one had made it… Let the Große Schwester come!
(Edmund Spenser)
Yep, there was the old blue-white globe, rolling into sight like a thunderhead. Just in time, as the main jets’ fuel gauge had just arrived at indicating nought. Well, the manoeuvring jets still had some juice. Jochen Zeislitz successfully fought the temptation to correct course. It wouldn’t work. Either Earth did indeed cross the dinghy’s preset path – or one was lost.
How fast? No idea. Raumkolonie ought to be able to detect the dinghies on their fumeo screen, and Prerow certainly was able to convert these readings into velocity information – after some minutes, when they had become utterly useless already. Actually, only Jochen’s intuition and experience would count.
And the blue-white mammoth was there, just as it should. Jochen fired the manoeuvring jets to achieve the best impact angle. Frigging “Pamina” had only a poor thermal sheet. The landers had been designed with Jupiter’s moons in focus, hence only thin gas envelopes had been considered.
Could one zigzag in the lower thermosphere, just above the mesopause? Up? And down again? It seemed to work. Yeah, he could manoeuvre, follow Earth’s bend instead of just pervading the atmosphere. Would the thermal sheet hold? No idea. Was it getting hotter in the boat? Obviously…
Okay, the spacesuits could stand not only cold. He had to risk it. Werner was reading the thermometer. The steel of the hull was good for 1.400° Celsius, or almost. Did braking work? No goddam idea… And up again. Fuel? As good as gone. Out!
Would Earth’s gravity catch “Pamina”? Or was the boat still too fast? Jochen – and everybody else – could only wait; all fuel was spent. Raumkolonie came on the air again as the boat shot out of the mesosphere. Wait, wait, wait… Yes, the trajectory wasn’t straight, it was slightly bent. It seemed one had made it… Let the Große Schwester come!
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