CHAPTER 15 “Elevator to Space”
Saturday 22 October 2811
This time I stayed on the elevator car when the klaxon sounded and the voice announced, “Visitors please exit immediately.”
Celeste led the six of us down the dozen or so ladder segments to the Observation Room. An elevator bell sounded, and a voice announced, “Space Elevator. Ground Floor, Planet Earth. Next Floor, GEO Station.” The car started its ascent smoothly and gently and with its characteristic electric whine. The balcony where only Caleb and I stood weeks earlier was crowded with Anchor Ship sailors. We waved vigorously to them as they waved to us.
The Anchor Ship and all else below very gradually diminished in size. We punched through a thin layer of mist and the Anchor Ship became no more than an orange smudge below the wispy whiteness. Bulolombe Island appeared to be a puzzle piece; curving in and out and flat. Kampala was no more than a scar on an otherwise verdant patchwork of fields, forests, and orchards. By the time the Atlantic Ocean came into view, the horizon was noticeably curved, revealing our home to be another sphere in the cosmos.
We sat at the observation window for two hours pointing out the beauty to each other before Celeste and Sitara started back up the ladders. Although the Earth was spectacular below us, the perspective became ever more static. We were rising 500 km/hr but the vista was far more expansive than a mere 500 kilometers. Besides the speedometer readout, the only indication that we were moving came from passing through the stabilizing rings. The rings were hard to spot since they appeared below us only for a brief moment before they receded too far below to discern.
Hvezda asked, “¿You heard about the cane Mr. Mtabe used?”
Danika, Xingxing, and I shook our heads.
“Gregor gave to him. Even showed him how to use.”
“¿What?” Danika exclaimed.
“¿Why on Earth for?” I asked.
“Gregor told him he is to have cane so people guess more easy who he is. It worked, I think.”
“But that’s deceitful,” Xingxing complained.
“For a communications or publicity director, that’s probably pretty mild,” I said. “It was the scar tissue on his head and his resemblance to the patient in the video that clued me in; not the cane.”
“I bet the cane helped, if only subconsciously,” said Danika.
“Yeah. Perhaps so. Hey, I need to use the bathroom and could use something to eat.”
Danika, Hvezda, Xingxing, and I stood up to return to the passenger pod after nearly three hours of sightseeing. Whoa! I had to grab Danika to keep from falling. Hvezda looked up at the ceiling of the Observation Room for two seconds before announcing, “Already we are 65% usual weight. Going up ladder is easy.”
I let my friends climb ahead of me since my stomach was a little queasy. I stepped out into the passenger pod to a surrealistic sight. The sky overhead was pitch black with a full moon but the sun shone fiercely from the west. Only a few stars could be seen in the black sky because of the sun’s glare through the TransCarb.
I used the bathroom, got myself a squeeze-bottle of water, and gingerly made my way to my seat. Exhaustion was creeping up on me and I still felt a little dizzy, so I put the seat into its sleeper configuration and found a comfortable position. I must have immediately fallen asleep.
I woke as the whine diminished in pitch and volume. “¿What’s happening?” I asked Xingxing who sat next to me using her e-pad.
“We need to slow since we are going to pass an elevator car on its way down,” she answered.
“Oh, yeah. The Coriolis effect thing. We’ve got to gain angular momentum and they’ve got to lose some. So, hmmm, by going up we’re pushing the ribbons west and they’re pushing the ribbons east.”
The elevator car tipped slightly to the east. I looked over at the status display and saw that we were below 300 km/hr and continuing to decelerate. Also on the display was the note: “This car is slowing as we approach a car traveling in the opposite direction. This car will lean slightly to the side and you may experience some oscillations; this is normal.”
I looked up through the top dome followed the ribbons up into space. I spied what appeared to be a planet shining from directly up the ribbons. “Xingxing, look. I see the other car up there.”
Soon the approaching car resembled a little moon in the sky; it looked spherical and a bit more than half full. The other car began moving across the heavens toward the west and our car tipped over to follow it. Then it slowed its sideways movement, stopped, and began moving back to the east. The oscillations were underway. The speedometer now read 5 km/hr. The oscillation frequency increased but the amplitude diminished as the other car approached.
Minutes passed before we could see the true shape of the other car; it was, of course, identical to ours. “Come on,” Hvezda told us. “We wave at each other from side.” We joined her and soon everyone in the passenger pod stood at the side closest to the set of three ribbons holding the descending car. Sunlight on the other car cast it in severe outlines. I saw waving hands and a couple of faces in their Observation Room at the bottom of the car. We waved back. They descended out of sight as we passed through a stabilizing ring. When their passenger area came alongside ours, a bunch of people were looking at us looking at them. Then we saw that several were holding illuminated e-pads and each e-pad displayed a single large symbol.
“B” “O” “N” “ ” “V” “O” “Y” “A” “G” “E” “ ” “T” “6”
They slid out of view below us.
“¿T6?” asked an unfamiliar voice.
“Trillium six,” answered just about everyone else and almost in unison.
The whine increased in volume and our car wasted no time in accelerating back up to 500 km/hr.
Shortly after our rendezvous with the descending car, the sun finally set. An hour later it reappeared. That would probably be our last sunset and sunrise. During the equinoxes, GEO Station only gets about an hour and a half of “nighttime” but the Autumnal Equinox was a month ago. For the “T6,” Sol would forever be a visible star in the heavens.
Hvezda and I decided to go over to the shaded half of the pod. She made it look easy but in reduced g I found it to be a major challenge. Each time I pushed off with a foot it was either too forceful or not hard enough. Hvezda reached the perimeter of the dome at the end of the row, turned, and scowled as I careened into Captain Perry sitting in her reclined chair. Celeste barely looked up from her e-pad as she used her right arm to boost me back-handed along the aisle. I was intensely embarrassed but all I could manage was a quick, “Sorry Captain,” before I spun crashing into an occupied seat. By the time I got myself stopped in a jumble of arms & legs, Hvezda returned and put her hands on my waist, turned me right-side-up and set me on my feet. The final 5 or 6 steps were without incident.
Shafts of brilliant sunlight shone upward through the pod and struck the inside of the dome. Hvezda and I stood in darkness looking out at the stars wrapped around us. Stars shone even below us except where the dark Earth blocked an arc of stars from view. It was a sight of unparalleled magnificence that I’d previously witnessed on video and holovideo but viewing it for real, in person, with the comfort of a close friend at my side … indescribable.
“How about we get something to eat,” Hvezda suggested. “The cheese and spinach sandwiches are my favorite.”
I fought back a sudden gastric spasm and tasted the horrible acidic reflux, but I managed to keep from spewing anything.
“Let me help you to your seat, girl. You are positively green.”
Hvezda led the way as I clung to her waist belt. “Here we are. Take this barf bag. I help you into seat. Slowly now.”
I eased my butt into the chair.
“Now your legs. OK. I strap your legs. OK. Now with free hand, give me seat belt and I fasten. Good. Now put head back slowly onto the cushion. There. ¿How does that feel?”
When I nodded my head, saliva began pouring into my mouth. I struggled to keep from barfing. The Passenger Pod seemed like it was moving around so I closed my eyes. With closed eyes, my world raced into a breakneck spin. I forced my eyes back open and just tried to deal with the spinning feeling, but I retched a bit of vomit anyway.
Hvezda returned with a dermic, rolled up my left sleeve and pressed it against the underside of my forearm. It did a little popping hop, as dermics do, and Hvezda rolled my sleeve back down. By the time she planted a kiss on my sweating forehead, some of the green feeling was ebbing away and sleep was creeping up on me. Two more days to go in this freaking elevator.
Sunday 23 October 2811
I woke with the sun warming my face. Looking around I saw Xingxing flirting with a guy in an FSA uniform. My other four crewmates were together playing cards; probably poker.
The pressure from my full bladder dictated my next low g challenge. The display board said 0.23g. Very slowly and carefully, I unbuckled my belt, unstrapped my legs, rotated toward the narrow aisle and sat with my slippers on the floor – all the while expecting a return of killer nausea. When it failed to attack, I stood and promptly toppled into the seat across the aisle. ‘Practice makes perfect,’ I told myself, and started again.
I made it without wetting my pants, but barely, and the nausea, my bête noir, did not return. By the time I got back to my seat I felt like a low g pro. I rummaged through my bag and gathered up a jumpsuit, deodorant, washcloth, toothbrush, and toothpaste and returned to the bathroom. Shedding my puke-spotted clothes, I gave myself a sponge bath with the washcloth [wondering why it isn’t called a washcloth bath], and put on my clean duds. Before I zipped up the jumpsuit, I regarded my boobs under the light bra. Yup, they are definitely up higher in this low g world. Brushing my teeth served to get rid of the last bitter taste of vomit.
Back at my seat I dug out the dirty-clothes bag and stuffed my soiled Trillium uniform into it. Feeling brave, I got a cheese and spinach sandwich and chowed down while watching the card game. They dealt me in as I finished the last crumb.
“Esty,” Danika said, “we’ve got an additional rule when playing poker in space.”
“¿What’s that?”
“No barfing on the cards.”
“Oh. Don’t worry, Danika, I’m OK now; after spewing on your chair, that is.”
That got her – for a second. We played over three hours straight before breaking for food, star gazing, and naps.
Monday 24 October 2811
I woke, visited the bathroom again, and asked who wanted to visit the Observation Room. Xingxing joined me and we didn’t bother with the rungs of the ladders; we just let ourselves drop to the platforms while using the ladder runners to keep on target. Cool and weird. By the time we reached the Observation Room, we had a fit of the giggles.
The Earth is quarter-full and resplendent in blues, greens, and browns with coils and wisps of white clouds shielding some of our planet from view. Spectacular!
We watched for a while and then tried, unsuccessfully, to pick out the lights of Kampala. Mom is down there and would probably be getting ready for bed. I told my e-pad to call her and waited for her to answer.
“Estrella!” her voice nearly shrieked. A cacophony of sounds provided background.
“Mom, hi!”
“¿Where are you? ¿How are you? ¿Are you at GEO yet? I thought you didn’t get to GEO until tomorrow.”
“Mom, slow down. I’m fine. It sounds like you’re in a crowded bar. ¿Is that Uncle Ricardo’s voice I hear? No, we’ll be on the elevator for another day.”
“Not a bar, darling. It’s a very nice restaurant in Kampala. Ricardo is here. We’re sharing a table with Captain Perry’s niece and her husband, Gary. Hvezda’s brother is here too showing us the traditional way to drink vodka. He’s very funny.”
Mom was obviously tipsy and enjoying herself. I smiled and felt less guilty for not calling sooner.
“That’s great, Mom. Tell everyone that we’re having a smooth trip up the beanstalk and the view from up here is incredible.”
“¿What was that you said about the crew being incredible? It’s a little noisy here.”
“The view, Mom. What we see is incredible.”
“That’s nice, dear. I found the new dental floss dispenser on your bedroom floor. You must have dropped it. I gave it to the quartermaster here. It’ll be on the next elevator, dear.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you get back to your dinner party. I’ll call again when I get the chance. Bye-bye and I love you.”
“Love you too, precious.”
Xingxing smiled. “That sounded a lot like the call to my parents a couple of hours ago; but in Mandarin. ¿Ready to go back up?”
“Sure.” This time I deftly left the chair and started up the ladder with Xingxing following. Going up the ladders was pretty easy, and I experimented with skipping some of the rungs but once I banged my head on the edge of a platform.
Back in the Passenger Pod, Sitara was helping Danika do flips. Sitara saw us and called, “Come on over. You guys are next.”
It looked like a lot of fun. Danika was working on a double backflip but unfolded from her tuck a bit too late and bounced off her butt. Because of low g, it was almost like slo-mo and certainly not a painful landing.
I got to go next. Sitara warned, “Esty, for your first backflip, don’t stay in a tuck too long; just tuck and open. I’ll keep you from bonking your head. And don’t launch too hard. You could probably reach the dome if you tried.”
I tested my weight with my legs before crouching and gently springing backward. I tucked and opened and the Passenger Pod spun but my feet swung past the floor without touching. Sitara arrested my out-of-control flip and righted me as the others cheered my wild attempt. Unfortunately, the Passenger Pod kept right on spinning and my stomach kept right on flipping. Hvezda shoved a barf bag in my hands and led me back to my seat as I up-chucked. She helped me strap in before walking away for another dermic. I was wiping my lips with facial tissue when she returned with the dermic. Pop-hop, and she walked away again. The Passenger Pod slowed its tipping and spinning so I stretched, got comfortable, and waited to nod off.
Tuesday 25 October 2811
After waking, I gobbled down a peanut butter and fruit sandwich. Hvezda was right; the cheese and spinach sandwich was better.
We played cards, napped, visited the Observation Room, napped, snacked, watched Sitara and Hvezda practice stunning acrobatic dance moves, … and napped.
With the display showing 0.01 g, I had to clip onto the rails to go anywhere. Hvezda instead would launch herself over everyone and land feet first exactly where she wanted to be.
A klaxon sounded followed by a recorded announcement: “Zero g in fifteen minutes. Please prepare. After approximately 45 minutes of zero g, we will arrive at GEO station where you will experience zero point zero zero five g’s. Thank you.”
The announcement precipitated a traffic jam at the bathrooms as no one really wanted to use the facilities at zero g. Some folk were changing into clean clothes right at their seats. I made it into the bathroom, finally, and before leaving checked my face in the mirror – eh, good enough for GEO.
The klaxon sounded again. “Zero g in 30 seconds. This is your last notification. Enjoy your stay at GEO Station.”
After coping with 1% g, I failed to notice when we transitioned to zero g. Then I spied a slipper rise serenely toward the dome. Sitara shot swiftly from behind me, snatched the slipper out of mid-air, flipped over, and met the dome with stocking feet. She vaulted back through the center of the Passenger Pod spinning like an arrow with one hand in front of her. Miraculously, the slipper appeared back in the middle of the space and completely motionless. Everyone applauded.
Hvezda and Sitara then sprang into the air from opposite sides of the Pod. They met in the middle above the slipper and, holding hands, spun around and around each other as they rose to the top of the dome. There they released each other briefly while their feet contacted the dome. They shoved off inverted, held each other side by side, and slowly corkscrewed toward the floor. When they reached two seats bolted to the floor, they hooked their toes under the seat straps and bowed with the slipper clamped between their shoulders. We whistled, clapped, and yelled our admiration.
Others then experimented in zero g with very mixed results. Give humans something new and they are compelled to play with it. I was reminded of the old Gopnik adage, “It is not that children are little scientists. It’s that scientists are big children.”
I heard someone call out, “There it is!” Above us in the blackness were multi-cornered shapes with edges illuminated from the side by sunlight. Some were solar arrays, some were buildings, and some defied identification.
It took freaking forever to dock at GEO Station. Finally, we moved at a constant crawl into the docking complex. The change from zero to half of a percent g was hardly perceptible. I moved exceedingly slowly as I put my shoulder bag in place, afraid that nausea would strike again. We all moved in slo-mo as we queued up to exit the elevator car. Sounds of latches gripping and locking echoed through the Pod. With a hiss, air rushed out through vents in the door as the pressures equalized.
The hissing stopped, a green light shone, an elevator bell chimed, and a voice announced, “Space Elevator, Mezzanine, GEO Station.”
The door slid open revealing a fellow in an FSA jumpsuit. “Welcome to GEO Station. Follow the green line to our orientation room and take a seat. Please move slowly. There is no hurry.”
I pulled on seat straps to move myself toward the door, but my shoes left the floor and my head dropped down and would have collided with the floor except my left hand got there first. It was like trying to get around in the training tank without over-correcting. Doh! The training tank! So I pretended I was in the tank in that horrible suit. Much easier.
I made it to the orientation Room and settled myself in a chair next to Hvezda with no more misadventures other than one crashing collision with Xingxing and one smashing bounce into a padded wall. Bless the padding.
“Esty,” Hvezda remarked, “you do much better. ¿How is stomach?”
“Thank you, and my stomach isn’t bothering me at all. ¿How on Earth did you and Sitara get so good at that zero g routine?”
“Was not on Earth. We practice hours and hours here in GEO Station gym. Ceiling is same height. We think we were lucky in elevator car. Half the time we tangle or miss. But is always fun.”
“If my stomach behaves itself, I’d love to ….”
I was interrupted by the sound of yet another bell. “Welcome to GEO Station,” said the video of a pert young woman in an FSA uniform. She and her video colleagues took thirty minutes telling us what not to do, how to handle emergencies, and where various offices and facilities can be found. One thing that perked my ears up was all of the preparations to handle barfing folk like me – barf bags, dermics, and procedures. I was glad to know I’m not the only one.