Executive Intent

Just then, he noticed a flicker of light off his right side-a reflection in the white cloud of gas surrounding the ship. “Hey, I see a light off to the right,” he radioed. Through the stabs of pain, he craned his neck as far as he could over his right shoulder to see what it was. “Can’t see any…wait, there it is again. It comes and goes. It’s reflecting off the vapor cloud around the Stud.”

“Still no cockpit indications?”

“No. I’d have to reset the master switch. Think I ought to give that a try?”

“I don’t know, Boomer. If you have a fuel-or oxidizer-tank breach, powering up the ship could set something off.”

“Something might already be getting ready to set off, General,” Boomer said. “I can reset the master switch, check for any sign of trouble, and then shut it off again real quick.”

“And if that starts a fire? What then?”

“Only one option,” Boomer said. He didn’t say what it was-that would’ve been too horrible to think about.

“If you think the risk is worth it, Boomer, do it,” Kai said. “Your help won’t arrive for a few hours.”

He saw the flicker of light again-that decided it. Something was going on back there. “I’m resetting the master switch…now.” He felt for the switch, clicked it down from the center “OFF” position, then up to “ON.” The cockpit lights turned on immediately…

…and brighter than all of them were the two red-colored illuminated handles on the eyebrow panel marked FIRE NO. 3 and FIRE NO. 4.

Boomer’s reaction was immediate. He pulled both illuminated handles and waited a few seconds…but the lights didn’t go out. He spoke as calmly as he could, “Fire in leopards three and four, evacuating!” He then immediately shut off the master and battery switches, cutting off communications. His right hand went immediately to a selector switch under the right forward instrument panel and verified it was in the “BOTH” position, then opened a red-colored guard next to it and flipped the switch inside up…

…which blew off McCallum’s cockpit canopy using cannons of nitrogen gas, followed two seconds later by Boomer’s canopy.

He quickly unstrapped and floated free of his seat. He pulled the headrest off his seat, which was a small survival kit, and clipped it onto his flight suit, then retrieved his HMU and clipped it on his suit as well. Unreeling his umbilical lines behind him, he pulled himself to the aft cockpit, unfastened McCallum’s seat straps, and pulled him free of the ship as carefully but as quickly as he could.

Now that he was above the Black Stallion, he could see what was going on: Debris from Kingfisher-8 had hit the two right engines and right wing, creating clouds of leaking fuel. Something inside one of the engines was creating a spark when the oxidizer made an electric arc ignite, but when the oxidizer dissipated, the spark went away. They were extremely lucky that one of those sparks hadn’t encountered a cloud of leaking jet fuel and exploded. Chemical explosions in space were extremely rare, but with this much oxidizer floating around, it was certainly possible.

Making sure his umbilicals and tether were connected, he grabbed McCallum’s survival kit and HMU, fastened them to his flight suit, then grasped McCallum as tightly as he could and kicked himself away from the Black Stallion. The umbilicals were several yards long, and Boomer thought he would go out to their full length, stay connected to the ship’s oxygen as long as possible, use the hand jets to stay clear of the stricken ship as it continued its lazy spinning, and detach as soon as he saw any sign of…

…and at that moment he saw a bright flash of light that obscured half the ship, and a massive tongue of flame curled around underneath the right wing inside the cloud of oxidizer and jet fuel for a fraction of a second before disappearing. Boomer didn’t hesitate-he unlocked and released the umbilicals from his and McCallum’s suits; then, with a momentary hesitation, unclipped the safety tethers. He then used the hand maneuvering jet to propel them away from the Black Stallion.

He and McCallum were now part of the thousands of pieces of space debris orbiting Earth.

Boomer used his HMU to push them away from the ship, discarded it when it was empty, then used McCallum’s HMU to push out farther and to stabilize them both until it was almost exhausted, then reattached it back to his flight suit. He and McCallum were perhaps a quarter mile away from the Stud and slowly drifting farther-that was the best he could do. They were probably safe from all but the “golden BB” piece of space debris. The Black Stallion continued to flash and flare as fuel caught fire for the briefest of moments-it looked like a shiny speckled trout washed up on shore, sparkling brightly in the sun even while it was dying.