Story #9 - Works Of A Lazy God

Works Of A Lazy God

The helmet snapped shut with an audible click but that didn't make Captain Ben Anderson feel any better. He'd squeaked by on his space walk training, mostly because his ability in every other aspect of the course was stellar and they'd needed a leader, a bright face for the mission.

Ever since the 2041 Iapetus debacle, the Global Space Agency had been looking for a way to get back in the pocketbook of the World Council, but research mission proposal after unmanned probe request after moon station development program was turned down. The Agency was desperate.

Thanks to the bright idea of a writer turned researcher, the Agency created its Outer Edge series of mission profiles, each designed to push the limits of human knowledge by sending real people to the rim of the solar system.

The idea proved massively popular, and the Council had little choice but to set aside money for the project. Ben had been lucky; he'd been training for space flight his whole life, training to see just what made the universe around him tick, and now he was finally getting his shot. He was what the GSA wanted – an astronaut in all but title – and his lack of space walking skills were deemed a “low priority mission use”.

Until now.

Doing a double, triple and quadruple check, Ben moved for the airlock door. Sheddy would be staying behind to pilot the ship in case something else went awry, but unless things changed significantly they wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

He sighed. He had finally been getting the hang of it; getting over his initial joy at spaceflight to buckle down and start doing all the work the GSA wanted. Sure, he had to make public appearances by Telcom every day to keep the PR aspect of the mission alive, but there was a great deal of actual work the Agency wanted completed.

It was just as Pluto had come into view that things had all come to a grinding halt. Literally; the ship had stalled mid-flight, throwing both he and Sheddy out of their bunks and into the back wall of the cockpit. After frantic instrument checks and the forging of a forced “everything's going to be alright” attitude, they had called home, but six confused scientists later there had still been no progress made. They were stuck in open space for no good reason.

The last guy finally suggested a spacewalk. The idea had already occurred to Ben but he'd kept it under wraps hoping they'd find another way to deal with the problem. Now, it looked like his last choice was their only option.

Slapping his hand down on the control knob put an end to his musings and the airlock door began to hiss open. Fighting down the urge to slap the emergency button, Ben closed his eyes and waited.

Once the hissing died down he forced his eyes open just enough to make the room in front of him visible and quickly attached his cable to the ThermaHook. So long as the rope did snap and the hook wasn't violently jarred, he should be relatively safe in the cold and unforgiving ink of painted space.

Logic cried for him to stay but he pushed forward with his left foot, driving out the door and around the edge of the ship. Sure enough, there was Pluto, thirty degrees off to port and nine million miles distant. Forcing his eyes all the way open he stared at it for a moment, waiting to confirm what instruments had already proclaimed; their orbit was somehow locked to the tiny spatial body's. Although everything else around them was rotating as it should be, Pluto and their craft seemed welded together.

His eyes attempted to wander outwards but he brought them to the hull of the ship. So long as he looked at the familiar he hoped the specter of the vast and crushing unknown would remain bearable. Taking the nearest handhold in his grip Ben pulled himself forward, inspecting the hull for damage. Aside from minor wear and tear, the ship itself seemed undamaged; a testament to self-repairing nanomaterials.

Ben felt a stab of disappointment. If it had been a hull problem, at least it would have been somewhere to start. Grabbing the final handhold before the nose, Ben took a deep breath and shot his gaze forward.

He frowned.

The stars seemed odd; stretched, distorted in front of the ship, enough so that he didn't feel the fear as he drifted forward beyond the safety of the hold. Though the rope and ThermaHook held, Ben had been less than attentive in ensuring that the rope was securely attached to his own suit, something he noticed as his forward momentum pushed him past the limit of the rope's length and out over the nose of the ship.

Childhood nightmares made real crashed into him, blurring his vision and sending his breath into spasms and endless space stretched out in his mind as he tumbled forward

There was a sense of pressure on his front and he was flung backward, the suit slamming into him as he hit the stub nose of the ship.

From his new vantage point he could see exactly what had happened. It had been so obvious, but who would think to look for it? In front of the ship, just below the control antenna, the canopy of stars had been breached. Confident now, Ben pushed off of the nose and smacked into the spongy surface of the star scape.

Laughing, Ben radioed Sheddy, who assumed his oxygen value mixture was off and wouldn’t believe it until he came to see it.

Ben knew the trouble it would cause, telling the truth, but this was why he'd come out here; this was what he wanted.

Human nature had a precursor, a cheat so large it boggled the mind.

Ben Anderson found that immensely satisfying.

- D