h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Glad to be back

Posted Oct 9, 2001

What a day... not only did the air scrubbers pack up again half-way through my exercise, so we started getting woozy from the CO2 load (and that's not a headache you shake off in a hurry), but just as I'm sucking on the O2 backup line (Cjob was using the spare suit tank which, strictly, isn't allowed, but it's due for routine replacement next resupply), Sylvia, our system monitor, reports an MMS (micro-meteorite strike) leak in the offside 3 equipment bay, so muggins has to suit up and heave it three locks down to check the damage.

I remember taking a canal cruise with Cjob some years ago in a canal long-boat, where we seemed to spend hours just winching our way through the locks to get up or down to the next level. That was a holiday, and the view were wonderful, so we posed breathlessly on the side of the locks and grinned stupidly and waved at the lunatics going the other way. Today I cycled those airlocks in a sort of grey haze, trying to focus and not miss the checklists. The suit for internal work is always the one with the longest use and gummiest filters, and this one was clammy and stank of stale sweat. Somehow it managed to be even heavier and stiffer than usual.

When I got into the bay it was the usual mess - junk drifting about, and a fine cloud of spores from some mouldy fabric, disturbed by my entry, glinting in the lights. No breach, but the pressure was a bit low due to a leaky dump seal. Sylvia had put two and two together to make five. I ran more sealant round the dump hatch, and spent an hour strapping everything down again, screaming silently at every new piece of useless rubbish that came within reach, then ran the fans for another hour to clear the dust and spores. The mold would have to wait, and there was nothing to do about it until the next time we vented the bay. Nothing like a good hard vacuum to get rid of mold.

By the time I got back to the workshop I was too tired to take the suit off. Cjob had fixed the scrubbers - just another clogged filter, and pulled me out of the sodden suit himself. He had to tether it in the waste lock to dry when we vented the rubbish, but we both knew the next wearer would find it stinking again within an hour. I took a blissful pressure shower in the tube, fixed rotas with Cjob, then came to bed. Boy, do I need a holiday.

At least it helps that I can come back here every night. It's almost as if this place is my own. You need a little fantasy when "All life death does end and each day dies with sleep".

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Latest reply: Oct 9, 2001