Chapter 459: Unprecedented Space Rescue
Lin Ran watched the synchronized footage from Cape Canaveral in Florida. The three astronauts had serious expressions, and it was clear that when talking about key points, their nerves were tense.
This was an unprecedented rescue.
This also meant that no one had done it before. During their training on the ground, they had never received such training.
International Space Station extravehicular activity training includes rope operation.
In the neutral buoyancy laboratory on Earth, astronauts have long mastered the technique of using safety ropes to secure their bodies to the module, then hand-in-hand slowly moving along the external handrails.
Past International Space Station operations also included specific rope operation practices.
Like module repairs, to deal with tiny gaps caused by micrometeorite impacts, astronauts need to secure themselves to the hull with ropes, then go out, and carefully apply sealant in the space environment, or patch it up.
Patching in the physical sense.
Or solar panel replacements, when replacing solar panels that have low efficiency due to high-energy particle flows or long-term use.
This is even more dangerous in terms of visual effect.
Because astronauts need to climb and work hundreds of kilometers along the massive truss structure.
But all of this happens in low Earth orbit, which is a relatively safe, fully verified, and highly controllable environment.
However, this rescue is fundamentally different from rope operations on the International Space Station.
First is the environmental difference. International Space Station extravehicular rope operations are conducted in relatively stable low Earth orbit, where astronauts are always firmly bound by Earth’s gravity field.
But this time, the astronauts are in trans-lunar injection orbit. Once they lose their grip, they will be flung into deep space at extremely high speeds, becoming floating stardust.
Wearing a spacesuit drifting toward deep space is an even more tragic outcome than drifting toward deep space in an escape pod.
Another is the difficulty of relative velocity.
Repairs on the International Space Station have near-zero relative velocity for astronauts, with movements as slow as possible.
But this time, although Queqiao and the escape pod have achieved zero relative velocity through precise calculations, any incautious thrust, any tiny deviation after the reaction control system jets, could cause the astronaut to drift away from the rope into an irretrievable drifting state.
The most nerve-wracking part is zero tolerance for error.
On the International Space Station, astronauts at least have two safety ropes for protection, and they have ample fuel to return to the airlock.
But this time, they have only one rope, and the spacesuit fuel must be conserved to the extreme. They have no retreat, no second chance; the price of failure is the life support system countdown reaching zero.
In the escape pod, Commander Jansen took a deep breath and said to his two teammates via the radio communication function on the spacesuit:
“Lena, Sarah, listen to me.”
His tone trembled a bit when uttering the first sound, but after saying the names, Jansen’s voice had calmed down, with only slight fluctuations from the radio function.
“Ground command has been very clear.
What we need to do now is execute the highest professional extravehicular transfer we’ve never trained for.
Forget our failed lunar module, forget this damn accident.
Now, we need to completely trust Apollo Technology, trust the professor’s calculations.”
Jansen, or rather the three astronauts on the escape pod, were all former NASA astronauts.
The difference is whether they have carried out official NASA missions or been to space.
Jansen is a veteran who has carried out more than ten missions. He came here after retirement for the generous treatment from Blue Origin. The other two black women have little experience; Sarah has never been to space—this is her first mission—while Lena has only done one.
At this moment, Jansen had a sudden inspiration and thought of when he was still at NASA, when Buzz Aldrin came to Johnson Astronaut Center to lecture, and during a break in casual chat mentioned Randolph, roughly meaning that Randolph liked others calling him professor.
Buzz Aldrin had said it with a faint smile, teasing: “When you have an accident in space, think ‘professor protect us,’ maybe it will turn things around.”
Jansen had thought it was superstition at the time, but he could understand; Randolph could send the over-eighty Buzz Aldrin back to space, so it was natural for Buzz Aldrin to believe in Randolph.
If he were Buzz Aldrin, he would believe too.
But at this point in time, facing a massive accident, Jansen inexplicably had that scene come to mind, and the meaningful expression on Buzz Aldrin’s face when he mentioned it.
So Jansen subconsciously let “professor” slip out.
“First, Lena, Sarah.
You must remember, we are now passive payloads. Your spacesuit propulsion backpacks are only allowed two short pulses, to detach from the hull.
Power must be controlled below 0.5%.
Our fuel is exhausted; any excess thrust could throw you off orbit, out of the rope’s effective range.
Slow, steady, precise.
When you exit the hatch, your target is not the spaceship itself, but that tether rope.
You are not swimming toward the target; you are passively drifting, waiting for the rope to enter your grasp.
Remember, only two chances!”
Jansen emphasized the number 2 again, hinting that opportunities are precious.
He turned to Lena: “Lena, you are the first.
You bear the greatest risk.
Your task is to enter spaceship one, but before that, you must visually confirm, through my vision outside, the secondary check of our escape pod’s attitude stabilization indicator light.
Once I initiate separation ignition, you need to confirm within 3 seconds, in your vision, that there is no roll or yaw.
This is the final confirmation, understood?”
Lena replied with unprecedented firmness: “Understood, Carl. I will check the escape pod’s roll axis and yaw axis, and give visual confirmation.”
He turned to Sarah: “Sarah, you will transfer to spaceship two afterward.
Your task is more important. Once safely entering the standby cabin, you must immediately check and report the internal oxygen partial pressure and carbon dioxide removal rate.
You will be responsible for confirming the stability of the life support system.
This is your professional field; ensure it can support our return to Earth.”
Sarah replied calmly as well: “Understood, Carl. Life support system, my top priority.”
When hope appeared, the will to survive became the highest instinct.
Jansen nodded: “Good, I am the last.
I will ensure our escape pod’s self-destruct separation command is accurately executed.
Remember, we are no longer going to the Moon.
We are now in survival mode.
We must perfectly execute every command from Yanjing.
There needs to be mutual trust between us and the professor; they trust our professionalism, and likewise we must absolutely trust the professor’s command!
We are not defeated by the universe.
We are defeated by the accident.
But we will not let the accident be our ending.
Keep breathing, stay calm. We are going home alive!”
Jansen’s words spread across Earth via the live broadcast, with countless netizens on YouTube praying for him.
“I cried XDDDDDD Jansen is so calm!”
“May God bless them!”
“You are all one-in-a-million elites; you can do it, you must survive!”
“This is humanity’s darkest moment, and also the brightest. Everyone is praying for them, transcending politics, transcending borders.”
“From now on, I will refuse to buy all Indian products; they are murderers!”
Meanwhile, Bezos also tweeted:
“Commander Jansen and his team have shown humanity’s greatest courage and professionalism.
They are true heroes.
We are fully cooperating with Apollo Technology; they have shown shocking speed and calculation precision.
This rescue tells us: at the boundary of exploration, we are a community of shared future for mankind.
I believe in our astronauts, I believe in Mr. Randolph Lin’s calculations.
Let us bring them home together. #SpaceRescue”
Half an hour later, the three Queqiao spaceships, shaped like UFOs with completely different flight attitudes, were using the ultimate fine-tuning of Hall thrusters to precisely and quickly enter the escape pod’s rendezvous orbit.
In deep space hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, the four spaceships were floating side by side at nearly zero relative velocity.
When seeing the gray-brown spaceship appear outside the porthole of the escape pod, the three astronauts tacitly clasped their hands together, as if praying for the upcoming rescue to go smoothly.
Because at this step, it was completely up to them.
A YouTube streamer relaying the broadcast, Alex, a former NASA engineer, now a full-time tech blogger.
Because of his former NASA background, much of his content is aerospace-related, and he is also a loyal supporter of Apollo Technology.
Alex’s footage paused on the Blue Origin real-time relay lens.
Through the wide-angle camera on the astronaut’s helmet, one could clearly see the three oddly shaped, flat disc-like rescue spaceships, like three huge UFOs, absolutely stationary next to the escape pod.
“Audience, stop your bullet screen! This is one of the most unbelievable scenes in aerospace history!” Alex’s voice was full of shock; he even forgot to drink his diet cola.
“What you see is China’s Queqiao.
But note their code name; they are called Queqiao, which means bridge in Chinese classical culture.
I prefer to call them rapid reaction spaceships, RRS.
They didn’t use traditional chemical fuel to rush here; they rely on electromagnetic launch, Hall thrusters combined with fossil fuel for orbit change.”
Alex split the screen into four parts, left side real-time spaceship footage, right side orbital calculation chart.
“Let us analyze the technical difficulty here; this is simply miraculous.”
Alex professionally analyzed: “First is the interception distance and speed.
Everyone needs to understand, the escape pod is in trans-lunar injection orbit, running at extremely high speed.
To achieve zero relative velocity for four spaceships in such a distant deep space region hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, this is a precise solution to a seven-body problem.”
“Traditional chemical rockets, to achieve this scale of rapid, precise interception, would consume tons of fuel.
So why it’s not possible.
Everyone can think about the cost and difficulty of sending tons of fuel to the Moon.
China’s three spaceships used only a few dozen kilograms of xenon.
This proves their new Hall thrusters have reached unimaginable levels in thrust vector control and specific impulse efficiency.
Every tiny orbit change relies on ground millisecond-level pulse calculations. They use the small thrust and high controllability of Hall thrusters to achieve nanometer-level adjustments to orbit and velocity, precisely inserting the spaceships into the escape pod’s orbit.
I can understand why White House senior officials are very nervous, because this precision already means space interception.
At least on the Moon, Chinese people have launch capability, interception capability; we can only build a very basic moon base.
Anyone who knows a bit about aerospace knows what the White House’s so-called big T base is; it’s nothing more than a space station placed on the Moon, a ground space station composed of multiple modules.
Besides sending it up, there’s no difficulty at all.
On the Moon, the gap between us and China is like the Stone Age and the gunpowder era.
They already have flintlock guns, while we are still holding spears.”
After switching back to Blue Origin’s live room, Alex said in a low voice: “Now, the rescue has entered the most dangerous phase.
China has lowered the rope, but grabbing the rope requires 100% professional ability and courage from the astronauts.
The spacesuit propulsion backpack fuel is almost exhausted, meaning they cannot make any mistakes.
This is the loneliest and most dangerous extravehicular transfer in human history.
Let us hold our breath and pray for these three brave astronauts. Their fate is now completely in their own hands and the commands from China’s ground control center.”
Lin Ran’s voice sounded: “Team of three, this is Randolph here.
Queqiao spaceships one, two, three are in position per the predetermined program.
Please confirm you have donned your spacesuits and completed the airlock chamber depressurization procedure.”
Jansen replied: “Professor, this is Jansen.
All ready.
Spacesuit airtightness normal.
We have locked the escape pod’s final attitude control system, awaiting separation command.”
Lin Ran said: “Very good, Commander Jansen, you stay in the main control position.
Lena, you are the first transferrer.
Your target is Queqiao spaceship one. Since the three spaceships are identical in form, you don’t need to identify which is number one; just grab the rope closest to you when it appears.
Lin Ran added: “Note, Lena, Hall thrusters are continuously fine-tuning; your zero relative velocity state is dynamically maintained.
The smaller your movements, the lower the difficulty for our ground control and command.
Everything prioritizes minimal energy consumption.”
Lena replied: “Received, minimal energy consumption. I am ready to detach.”
Lena secured herself in the narrow airlock chamber of the escape pod for final attitude confirmation.
Commander Jansen extended his fist clad in thick gloves to her, the final silent encouragement.
With a slight sound of internal pressure equalization, the escape pod’s hatch slowly slid open.
The profound, lightless, cold universe instantly flooded her vision.
Lin Ran said: “Hatch open, Lena, perform first short pulse.”
Lena’s right index finger gently activated the control button on the spacesuit propulsion backpack; she felt a weak but clear thrust from her back.
This pulse was so brief, so weak, yet enough to push her from the escape pod’s embrace toward deep space.
Lena’s body began drifting outward at extremely slow speed.
Jansen gave confidence via radio: “Detach complete, Lena, attitude stable, detach angle perfect.”
Lena Singh quickly shut off the propulsion backpack, placing her hands flat at her sides.
She was like a feather tossed into the boundary of vacuum and absolute stillness.
She felt no wind, no resistance, only endless darkness and the gray Moon.
In her left front, that gray-brown, flat disc-shaped Queqiao spaceship was waiting for her in a weird, completely stationary posture.
Its surface covered in complex thermal control coatings, the huge circular structure giving a sense of serene yet alien oppression.
Lin Ran said: “Queqiao one activates flexible capture arm. Lena, focus! Rope is appearing.”
On the side of “Queqiao one” spaceship, a slender mechanical arm unfolded like an extending tentacle.
At the end of the mechanical arm, a high-strength tether rope slightly thicker than the spacesuit safety rope was slowly extended.
The end of the rope carried a tiny attitude corrector, allowing it to approach Lena’s drifting direction at the minimal speed.
This was the moment in the entire transfer process that most tested psychological quality.
Lena needed to overcome human instinctual fear.
Fear of missing the target, fear of being flung into deep space.
She had to wait until the rope entered her reach on its own.
The rope passed slowly in front of her with faint vibration.
Closer.
Even closer.
Lin Ran’s speech rate quickened, but his voice remained steady: “Lena, grab window open! Don’t lunge, don’t chase it with your body! Use your wrist, gently and firmly grab it! Don’t be afraid; your backpack can do one more pulse. If you miss, remember to slowly adjust attitude; there’s still one chance!”
Lena silently recited the command in her mind; her right arm seemed to detach from her shoulder, slowly extending.
The thick glove precisely wrapped around that tether rope.
Lena: “Got it! Rope secured!”
A faint automatic tension pull came, not as fierce as imagined; the rope’s buffer system gently absorbed her final drift speed.
She had successfully grabbed that rope of life from China in deep space.
At this step, it was already more than half successful.
Jansen and Sarah in the escape pod high-fived, celebrating this historic moment.
Lin Ran said: “Very good, Lena.
Now, shut off all spacesuit propulsion systems.
Use your arms to pull along the rope toward ‘Queqiao one’ external standby cabin.
Slowly, at constant speed, don’t rush!”
Lena began climbing.
Her target was not the oval single-person cabin with transparent cover on the spaceship side, but the standby cabin; she had to wait in the standby cabin for air equalization before entering the single-person cabin.
In vacuum, every pull restored a bit of stability to her heartbeat.
She was no longer a weightless astronaut, but a lifeform climbing along the rope.
This was a subject they had trained on many times before; at this point, it was no different essentially from International Space Station extravehicular operations.
Finally, her helmet bumped against the standby cabin hull.
Lena: “In position! I have reached the standby cabin, entering now.”
Following the operation guide she had seen in the escape pod beforehand, she quickly unscrewed the air valve, crawled into the narrow cabin, then forcefully turned the handle to close the hatch.
The hatch seal success tone sounded inside the spacesuit, like heavenly music in her ears.
Lena: “Entered standby cabin, hatch locked, switching to life support system.
Professor, Queqiao one power connected, I am safe.”
Apollo Technology official Weibo posted immediately after confirmation: 1/3.
Countless people who had been holding their breath relaxed.
Because the first is the hardest; with the first successful, psychologically the latter two have a foundation.
Astronaut Jansen still in the escape pod clenched his fists and lightly pounded downward, as if celebrating his supported team scoring.
On Earth, Bezos watching the live broadcast let out a long sigh of relief; the ten billion was not spent in vain.
