Free Starfire by Dale Brown Page B

carrying a device resembling a ski-lift chair and two cables in a mechanical claw.
    Boomer flipped a few switches, then checked his passenger’s space-suit fittings and readouts before giving him a pat on the shoulder and a confident, approving nod. “I like the cut of your jib, sir,” he said. “Here we go.” Boomer hit the final switch, and with several loud, heavy SNAP s and a loud whir of motors, the canopies on both sides of the cockpit of the S-19 Midnight spaceplane opened wide.
    Before the passenger could realize it, Boomer was up and out of his seat, floating completely free of the spaceplane with only one thin strap securing him to anything, looking like some kind of unearthly Peter Pan in his skintight space suit and oxygen helmet. He grasped one of the cables on the remote-controlled arm and plugged it into his suit. “I’m back up,” he said. “Ready to come down.” The robot arm lowered Boomer level with the outside of the passenger’s side of the cockpit. “I’m going to disconnect you from the ship, connect you to me and to the hoist, and plug you into this umbilical, sir,” Boomer said. In a flash it was done. “All set. How do you hear?”
    â€œLoud and clear, Boomer,” the passenger replied.
    â€œGood.” Boomer helped the passenger up and out of his seat, which was much easier than getting in because it was now completely open. “We can’t stay out long because we’re not very well protected from micrometeorites, cosmic radiation, temperature extremes, and all that happy space stuff, but it’ll be a fun ride while it lasts. Umbilicals are clear, Armstrong. Ready to hoist.” The robot arm began to slowly pull them up and away from the spaceplane, and then the passenger found himself floating free in space over and above the docking module . . .
    . . . and within moments, the entire structure of Armstrong Space Station was spread out before them, gleaming in reflected sunlight. They could see the entire length of the structure, see the large laboratory, living, mechanical, and storage modules both above and below the truss, and the endless expanses of solar cells at both ends of the truss that seemed to spread out to infinity—he could even see persons looking at them through large observation windows on some of the modules. “Oh . . . my . . . God,” the passenger breathed. “It’s beautiful!”
    â€œIt is, but that ain’t nothing,” Boomer said. He grasped the back of the passenger’s space suit and pulled him so he pivoted down . . .
    . . . and the passenger got his newest glimpse of planet Earth below them. They could all hear him gasp in utter wonderment. “Good Lord!” he exclaimed. “It’s incredible! It’s magnificent! I can see almost the entire continent of South America down there! My God! It looks totally different than through the cockpit windows—I can really sense the altitude now.”
    â€œI think he likes it, General Raydon,” Boomer said. He let the passenger marvel at planet Earth for about another minute, floating free of the harness; then said, “We don’t dare stay out here any longer, sir. Reel us in, Armstrong.” With the passenger still facing toward Earth, the robot arm began to retract back toward the space station, pulling the two men along. Boomer pulled the passenger upright just before arriving at a large hatch. He floated up to the hatch, unlocked and opened it, floated into the opening, secured himself with a strap to the inside of the airlock, attached another strap to the passenger, and carefully maneuvered him inside the station’s airlock. Boomer detached them both from the umbilicals, released them outside, then closed and dogged the hatch. He hooked himself and the passenger up to umbilicals in the airlock while waiting for the pressure to equalize, but the