//------------------------------// // Interlude: CSP-15: The Wrong Stuff // Story: Changeling Space Program // by Kris Overstreet //------------------------------// “Occupant,” Chrysalis said, “let go of the hoof rails.” And from hundreds of miles above the surface of Equus, Occupant replied: “No!” Not “Yes,” and not even “Can I not?” or “No, my queen.” Just a thin, squeaky negative, coming from a bug too terrified to realize that, however afraid he might be at the moment, that would be nothing compared to what he’d endure once Chrysalis got her hooves on him. From the flight director’s cupola Cherry Berry asked, “Still think this punishment of yours is worth it?” Chrysalis muted the capcom microphone long enough to say, “Shut up.” After a deep breath she un-muted it again and said, “Fifteen, you are in a spacesuit. You have a thruster pack with batteries showing full. And you have four scientific experiments from which you need to collect data and samples and then reset the equipment. All of which you have trained for all winter. You are as safe as it is possible to be. Now let go of the rails and activate suit thrusters.” “N-n-not gonna do it!” “Occupant,” Chrysalis said, allowing a bit of her true feelings to show in her voice like an alligator surfacing in the swamp waters, “I’m not asking you to do anything I haven’t done before. I’m ordering- let go of the darn ship!” “Th-th-that’s different!” Occupant’s voice sounded just as terrified as before, but at least he was putting more of them together. “You’re the queen! You’re the smartest and bravest and sneakiest! I’m just a drone! And it’s scary out here!” “Flattery will get you nowhere,” Chrysalis replied. “But disobedience will get you into trouble as deep as you currently are high. Do I make myself clear?” “Do you know how tough it is to get out of the hatch without losing your grip on the spaceship?” Occupant asked in a single rush of breath. “I almost lost it! I don’t wanna fall!” This time Chrysalis took two deep breaths, not that it helped. “Occupant,” she said quietly, “you are in orbit. In space. You can’t fall. There is no place to fall TO.” “That’s not what Dr. Cowley said!” Occupant shot back. “He said orbit is free-fall! Everything’s falling all the time! So there’s EVERYPLACE to fall to, and none of them nice!” Chrysalis muted the mic again. “Trajectory? Thank you so much for that.” Down in the bullpen, the elderly minotaur in question flinched a little and shrugged helplessly. Unmuting the mic, Chrysalis continued, “Well, Fifteen, are you telling me you want to go back in the ship, then?” The comms channel remained silent for a little too long. When Occupant spoke, it was as slowly as his previous words had been rapid-fire, but not the least bit less afraid. “That would mean I’d have to reopen the hatch, right?” “Do you know the teleport spell?” “No, my queen.” “Then yes, obviously you’d have to open the hatch.” “Then I think I’d just like to stay right here,” Occupant said. On the giant projection screen overlooking CSP Mission Control, the little figure hugging the front of CSP-15’s capsule hugged it just a little tighter. “I really don’t think I can let go.” “And how long do you intend to stay there?” “Um.” Another long pause. “Would it work if I just rode back down out here?” “Stand by, Fifteen.” With a swat of her forehoof Chrysalis turned the microphone off. With a flash of sickly green magic she yanked her headset off her head and threw it onto the console hard enough that it bounced. “Conference,” she ordered. “NOW.” At least the press gallery was empty for this launch. They’d advertised CSP-15 as a simple training flight to familiarize Occupant with space and the scientific devices he’d be working with on missions. No great firsts, no milestones, nothing out of the ordinary. Thus, a few reporters had showed up for the launch, and then they’d been gently encouraged to go file their stories from Baltimare. Of course, the reason why they’d discouraged the press so strongly didn’t make Chrysalis feel any better… Occupant sat in the flight seat, flight stick between his forehooves, as the red lights indicating pre-simulation conditions shone all around him. “All right, Occupant,” Cherry Berry said over the comms. “You’ve run simulations on us. You know how this works. We’re going to start out very simply. No clever tricks, no malfunctions. We just want you to get to orbit. You know how to read the nav-ball, right?” “Yes, Miss Berry.” “Okay. Begin simulation. Fifteen, Horseton; ignition at your discretion.” Twenty seconds later the capsule hatch opened, and Cherry Berry’s annoyed head poked through it. “WHAT was THAT?” she asked. “Well, I’m supposed to be going ten by ninety off the pad, right?” Occupant asked. “Well, I did that, but the ship kept dipping past ten, so I pulled up, and then it was tipping the other way, and then it turned north for some reason, and-“ “-and you plowed straight down into the roof of the VAB!” Cherry shouted. “I saw! We ALL saw! How could…” She clamped her jaw shut, snorting heavily for a few seconds until her facial fur became more pink than red. “Okay,” she said in a calmer tone of voice. “It was your first sim. Nobody flies well the first time. We’ll just learn from this and move on. Handle the stick gently next time. All right?” “All right.” Twenty-seven seconds after the second simulation began, the hatch opened again, and Cherry Berry stuck her head in again. “Occupant,” she asked softly. “how well do you think rockets fly going sideways?” “They don’t,” Occupant said. “Which is why, according to the simulation, your body parts are now scattered the entire length of the Horseton fishing jetty,” Cherry said. “Do you know what caused that?” “Um… no?” Occupant asked. “I handled the stick gently like you said, but the rocket… well… it just didn’t want to go that way.” “You tried to turn down the ball right off the pad,” Cherry said. “There wasn’t enough speed for aerodynamics to hold the rocket steady. When you tried to correct, you put the engines out of line with the upper part of the rocket and lost control.” “I’m sorry, Miss Berry,” Occupant whimpered. “I thought I was waiting long enough.” Cherry took another deep breath. “Let’s try again,” she said. “After all, the reason for simulations is so we buck up here on the ground and not in space right?” “Right,” Occupant agreed with absolutely no confidence at all. “So just remember: wait until the rocket’s got some speed, and then handle the stick real gently,” Cherry said, maintaining her calm, soft, comforting voice. “And we won’t make the same mistake again, will we?” “No, ma’am,” Occupant said. This time it took seventy-four seconds for Cherry Berry to stick her head back into the red-lit capsule. This time her voice was less calm and gentle. “Okay, what happened this time?” she asked. “Because even I don’t understand how we got THAT result!” “Um…” Occupant looked down. “The computer readout says the rocket broke up at nine thousand meters.” “I KNOW it broke up at nine thousand!” Cherry shrieked, losing her composure completely for a moment. After a deep breath she leaned farther into the capsule, looking down at Occupant where he lay strapped into the flight couch, and said, “What I want to know is… why?” “Um, Miss Berry, right now you remind me a lot of my queen-“ “Don’t say that even as a joke!!” Occupant hadn’t been joking. Without shapeshifting, he tried to make himself as small as possible in his spacesuit. “Sorry! Sorry! But I really don’t know why! I thought I was doing well this time, honest!” Cherry Berry backed off, almost back out the hatch, and Occupant thought he heard her counting to ten under her breath. “You know?” she asked, back in Nice Sweet Gentle Pony mode. “You’ve just given me an idea. You don’t know what the right way looks like from the inside, do you?” Occupant shook his head. “No, ma’am.” “All right,” she said. “Let’s get a Probodobodyne in here, and Dragonfly. She’ll fly the sim from outside, and you’ll just be a passenger. Just watch the lights and the readouts and learn what a proper launch looks like. And we’ll go from there.” Setting up the new rig took about an hour and a half. The simulation which followed lasted eighty-three seconds. This time the hatch didn’t open. Voices came over Occupant’s headset, though, and he heard every word of the conversation which followed with crystal clarity. “What the hay was THAT?” That was Cherry, confused and frustrated. “THAT was a butt-heavy ship trying to flip!” That was Dragonfly, also frustrated but not confused. “The two Science Jr.s and the cargo bay with the goo canisters inside make the top part of the ship really lightweight. The instant I try to push the envelope- whoop! The whole thing flips over and smashes itself to pieces!” “Then don’t push the envelope! This isn’t a thrill-ride for you!” “It’s not a thrill of any kind for me! And anyway, I wasn’t trying to push it! It just happened!” “Well, it better not happen on the real flight! Think what would have happened to Occupant!” Occupant imagined what would happen to him, falling through exploding debris without a parachute from ten kilometers up. He figured it wouldn’t be as pleasant as getting shield-bashed out of Canterlot had been. For one thing, there had been hundreds of kilometers of flight to take the edge off their trajectory before they hit the Badlands dirt. This time there would be more speed and less air. Assuming he was in any condition to care about the landing after the rocket tore itself apart with him inside. “So move over! We’re going to take turns at this until we get this right!” “Okay, Cherry. But I kind of feel we’re forgetting something.” It took seven more simulations, none of which lasted long enough to get to space, before either Cherry or Dragonfly remembered Occupant was still in the simulator capsule, by which point he had to be carried out on a stretcher, curled up into as small a twitchy ball of bug as his spacesuit would allow. “The bulls put a scale model in the wind tunnel,” Cherry said. “And Dragonfly was right. The center of mass of the ship is way low. Anything more than the slightest bit of imbalanced air resistance on the nose, and the rocket tumbles and dies.” “All right,” Chrysalis said. “What can we do about it, then?” “Not a darn thing.” Cherry opened the door to the new spacewalk training room and let Chrysalis walk in ahead of her. “The whole point of the mission is to see if we can re-use those Science Jrs., and we need the spare for the high-altitude test if the reset doesn’t work. And any design we can build with two of those things stacked on each other is going to be tail-heavy.” “Curse that Twilight Sparkle,” Chrysalis muttered. “Why couldn’t she make a heavy science lab?” “Because heavy costs more fuel and is harder to fly?” Cherry Berry asked. “I wasn’t asking you, pony.” Chrysalis shook her head. “So you say we’re stuck?” “Yep,” Cherry agreed. “We’re not even going to try letting Occupant touch the controls anymore. Dragonfly’s going to spend every day in the sims this week learning how to launch this thing without a wreck. Aside from that, unless we can find some larger fins somewhere, there’s nothing to be done.” “Of course,” Chrysalis groaned. “Remind me again why I’m doing this?” “You wanted petty revenge and torture on one of your more loyal and reliable subjects,” Cherry replied instantly. “I wasn’t asking you.” “Yes, you were.” “Oh, for- how is Little Mister Reliable anyway?” Chrysalis asked. “He only has one thing to train for now- the spacewalk. He must be getting good at that.” “Dr. von Brawn says he’s improving,” Cherry said. “They should be running a simulation now…” She opened the door to the main training floor and, again, held it open for Chrysalis. “Well, based on how he did in the Cape Friendship training, he couldn’t possibly get-“ Chrysalis’s voice cut off as she looked up at the spacewalk rigging, which simulated zero-gravity by a double gantry that suspended the trainee in the air on a series of tethers to allow for a full three dimensions of movement. Somehow, four moderately short tether cables had become snarled in the gantry booms, along with the cables that extended or contracted those booms, to form a gigantic metal spider web that spanned half the immense chamber. Next to where Occupant hung, absolutely immobilized, the tangle of cables spelled out the words: SOME PIG! Chrysalis stared for a long moment, then threw up her forehooves and shouted, “HOW?!?” The conference in a meeting room beneath the VIP gallery hadn’t taken long, since its main purpose had been to allow Chrysalis to shout and rave for a moment before everyone else persuaded her that further threats wouldn’t make Occupant any more comfortable about a spacewalk, and that it might be a good idea to try again the next day. That having been worked out, the controllers returned to the Mission Control floor. Without even looking up, Chrysalis returned to the capcom position, put on her headset, and reactivated the microphone. “Fifteen, Horseton,” she said, “I’ve been reminded that you had a lot of bad experiences in the simulator. But I want you to remember that we got you up safe and sound, and that you’ll be coming home with just the capsule, so you won’t need to worry about heat warnings or anything like that. All the worst stuff is behind you. So just go back into the capsule, relax, and we’ll try the spacewalk again tomorrow.” “Oh, I already did that, my queen.” Chrysalis’s head snapped up from her console. There on the wall high above she saw the projected illusion showing Occupant floating free in space next to the long cylinder of Mission Fifteen’s orbital stage. “You did what?” she asked. “Well, I sneezed,” Occupant said. “By the way, the anti-fog material inside the helmet visor works really well with-“ “You sneezed??” “Yes, my queen! And, well, when I sneezed my hooves went to my face, only I couldn’t cover my snout because of the helmet, and then I realized I’d let go of the ship. And, well, the ship wasn’t really going anywhere, so I decided I’d try out the thrusters, and they worked fine, and so I completed the spacewalk. All done.” “All done.” “Yes, ma’am! It was really easy! I have the samples in my belt right here!” On the screen, one forehoof patted the spacesuit’s waist. “And the new samples are in place ready for another test run.” “Right. Stand by.” Chrysalis cut the mic again and asked, “How long were we in that conference room anyway??” “Five, six minutes?” Cherry replied at once. “Just long enough for you to get over your snit fit.” “Queens do NOT have snit fits! We have royal rages, and I’ll thank you to remember it!” “I’ll try, capcom,” Cherry said. “In the meantime, maybe we should get Occupant back into the ship and prepare for the orbital adjustment burn?” “I suppose,” Chrysalis said, rubbing her head. “But do you know the most annoying thing about this?” “Tell us.” “The fact that Occupant just succeeded,” Chrysalis said, pointing to the telepresence projection, “means that we could have done this with just one materials lab. Just one goo canister. Which means the ship wouldn’t have been imbalanced, and we wouldn’t have had all the trouble in the sims.” Cherry shrugged. “But we couldn’t be sure,” she said. “Which is why we did all the sims.” “Rrrrrgh.” Chrysalis keyed on her microphone again. “Fifteen, congratulations on a successful first spacewalk. Now please get back inside the ship so we can get to the second part of the mission.” “Aw, can’t I stay out here a while longer?” Occupant asked. “It’s kind of fun flying on the thrusters. Not as fun as the Fun Machine, but-“ “Occupant,” Chrysalis said, using the very last tattered shred of her never-plentiful patience, “stop arguing with me!!” “Yes, my queen!” Occupant said, wheedling gone. “Re-entering vehicle now!” Fifteen seconds later, up on the screen, a spacesuited form bounced off the ship and tumbled backwards. “It’s okay, Horseton!” Occupant said as he somersaulted through space. “I know what I did wrong! I’ll get it right next time!” On the sixth attempt, he finally did.