Moonshot

Suit Issue

'Casey, your heart rate is escalating.'

        Lieutenant Casey Knowles glanced down sharply to check the illuminated display inside her helmet. Pressurised oxygen had been leaking from the bulky EVA suit for six minutes seventeen seconds undetected. She swore, forcing herself to breathe evenly - but there'd been no automated warning?

        She began to up the pressure with her chest pack controls, struggling against the first flowering of light-headedness - trying to focus her mind. A faulty censor; she dragged her thoughts from the improbability of it – the suit safety checks were beyond rigorous – and turned her mind to the task in hand, twisting slowly, the gantry she was making for framed momentarily between the blackness of space and the glowing lunar disc.

        'Casey, are you reading me, over?'

        She forced away the first inklings of panic as she turned towards the airlock hatch, flaring like the blinding sunlight which raced across her visor, reflected from the lunar surface so many miles below. Her mind was becoming fuddled, she realised, her pulse thudding – she'd have to conserve her air.

         'I've got a pressure drop, are you registering it?'

         There was a pause as control checked the stats. 'Your right hand torso valve is leaking from the seal.' Keenan said seriously. 'Try not to talk – make your way back and leave the checks.'

        'Copy that control.'

        She hesitated. The pre-docking checks could be left undone for now, yet her other task – the real reason for volunteering for the scheduled Extra Vehicular Activity ...

         'Casey?'

         She turned her gaze to the projecting lattice-like pylon she'd hoped would give her enough distance from the hull to release the tiny piece of equipment without the risk of it smashing against the orbital platform. There was no chance of getting to it now, the need to get inside foremost in her mind.

         'Sorry, copy that control.'

         But why hadn't the valve issue been picked up in the pre walk checks - and why hadn't her suit's systems registered it?

         She began to move steadily, swinging ponderously away from the lattice-like structure, forcing her hands not to tremble as she struggled to unclip her primary carabiner, before reaching for the next anchor point as her secondary pulled up taught.

         'You've got to come back in - now – you've still three minutes of pressure at the current rate of bleed, but you can't afford to hang around.'

         'Copy that.'

         Her eyes darted back to the edge of the skeletal structure, moving her arm awkwardly across her body to cover the valve with her thickly gloved hand, hoping to gain an extra few seconds as she hesitated. She had to release the transmitter – had to let them know what was really going on. A gentle alarm began to bleep inside her helmet, adding weight to her crewmate's warning.

        'Come on Casey!'

        But this close to the hull the cameras would see what she was doing, control would pick up her unauthorised activity. She swore silently - her echoing breaths tremulous - knowing she had no choice.

         'Casey?'

         She fumbled with the raised pocket on the leg of her bloated suit, fighting against the zero-G as she rotated in towards the hull, tethers tangling, willing her spin to block control's view as she struggled to pull the device free.