off the pavement to go and take a look.
13
JUNK
High above the Earth and clinging on to a portion of old satellite, Grimshaw went over his calculations again. Avatars had an excellent spatial sense and chronometer travel was pretty accurate, but even so, landing on a target this small and moving this fast had posed some problems. Grimshaw had spent some time pinwheeling dizzily in orbit, but on his fifth try had managed to zap to a position close enough to catch hold of the lump of space junk and pull himself on.
Grimshaw knew the Earthâs orbit was filled with man-made debris ranging from nuts, bolts, gloves and other leftovers from space missions to defunct satellites and failed space probes. Some of it would fall harmlessly back to Earth, burning up in the atmosphere or landing in the vast amount of ocean that covered the globe. At the last estimate the blanket of junk wrapped around the planet totalled roughly one hundred and ten thousand objects, many zooming along at speeds of over seventeen thousand miles per hour. Grimshaw knew this, not because he had found it on the Acts and Facts, butbecause he had read his way through a copy of
Science Monthly
while waiting for the vicar to stop sobbing long enough to climb the church tower. He had thought the article very interesting, but now realised that it had not mentioned the sheer giddiness of all this whirling about so far above everything. Nor did it mention the general all-round amazingness of the world.
From this high up, hanging in the freezing vacuum, the sight of the Earth backed by the great void of space knocked the view from the mountaintop into a cocked hat and out the other side. To his left, one last slice of the planet was still covered by the blanket of night, but where day had cast its light the many hued greens of the forests and the golds and purple-browns of the land swam in an ocean of deep turquoise blue. The whole beautiful thing was wreathed with white clouds that swirled across its surface. It was breathtaking.
Shaking himself vigorously, Grimshaw turned his attention back to the job in hand. The particular piece of space junk that he was clinging to was due to fall to Earth any moment. When he felt the orbiting chunk graze the Earthâs atmosphere, Grimshaw tensed, ready for action when the right moment arose. The piece of debris kept going on its downward course, plunging deeper into the pull of the planet. Now, instead of silence, the wind whistled in his ears as the junk fell so fast that it began to burn. He congratulated himself on having left his trousers and notebook in his backpack, hidden in abush on the planet below. Grimshaw could survive the flames, but they wouldnât have.
The junkâs death dive was magnificent. The heat became intense as he hurtled on towards the blue-green globe, which grew and grew until the swirls of colour became mountains, rivers, plains and deserts. Grimshaw would have yelled with the sheer exhilaration of it if he had had any breath left to yell with. The speed of his descent was so great that, had he breathed in, the oxygen would have ignited in his lungs, burning him to a crisp from the inside out.
And then the crucial moment arrived â the moment when Grimshaw had to act. The half-alive had substance, but not much in the way of weight. Using what little he had, Grimshaw leaned to the left, changing the junkâs flight path in a small but significant way. Underneath him the metal glowed white hot, vaporising as it fell. When it hit its target it would be a fraction of its original size, but still big enough for Grimshawâs purpose.
Clouds were rushing up to meet him in cathedrals of blue-white vapour that looked almost solid. For a fleeting moment, Grimshaw felt their cool touch as the junk dived into them. Then the junk sizzled their towers, domes and twisting helter-skelters into steam as it tore through and out the other side. Grimshaw burst out into air that stung his skin
13
JUNK
High above the Earth and clinging on to a portion of old satellite, Grimshaw went over his calculations again. Avatars had an excellent spatial sense and chronometer travel was pretty accurate, but even so, landing on a target this small and moving this fast had posed some problems. Grimshaw had spent some time pinwheeling dizzily in orbit, but on his fifth try had managed to zap to a position close enough to catch hold of the lump of space junk and pull himself on.
Grimshaw knew the Earthâs orbit was filled with man-made debris ranging from nuts, bolts, gloves and other leftovers from space missions to defunct satellites and failed space probes. Some of it would fall harmlessly back to Earth, burning up in the atmosphere or landing in the vast amount of ocean that covered the globe. At the last estimate the blanket of junk wrapped around the planet totalled roughly one hundred and ten thousand objects, many zooming along at speeds of over seventeen thousand miles per hour. Grimshaw knew this, not because he had found it on the Acts and Facts, butbecause he had read his way through a copy of
Science Monthly
while waiting for the vicar to stop sobbing long enough to climb the church tower. He had thought the article very interesting, but now realised that it had not mentioned the sheer giddiness of all this whirling about so far above everything. Nor did it mention the general all-round amazingness of the world.
From this high up, hanging in the freezing vacuum, the sight of the Earth backed by the great void of space knocked the view from the mountaintop into a cocked hat and out the other side. To his left, one last slice of the planet was still covered by the blanket of night, but where day had cast its light the many hued greens of the forests and the golds and purple-browns of the land swam in an ocean of deep turquoise blue. The whole beautiful thing was wreathed with white clouds that swirled across its surface. It was breathtaking.
Shaking himself vigorously, Grimshaw turned his attention back to the job in hand. The particular piece of space junk that he was clinging to was due to fall to Earth any moment. When he felt the orbiting chunk graze the Earthâs atmosphere, Grimshaw tensed, ready for action when the right moment arose. The piece of debris kept going on its downward course, plunging deeper into the pull of the planet. Now, instead of silence, the wind whistled in his ears as the junk fell so fast that it began to burn. He congratulated himself on having left his trousers and notebook in his backpack, hidden in abush on the planet below. Grimshaw could survive the flames, but they wouldnât have.
The junkâs death dive was magnificent. The heat became intense as he hurtled on towards the blue-green globe, which grew and grew until the swirls of colour became mountains, rivers, plains and deserts. Grimshaw would have yelled with the sheer exhilaration of it if he had had any breath left to yell with. The speed of his descent was so great that, had he breathed in, the oxygen would have ignited in his lungs, burning him to a crisp from the inside out.
And then the crucial moment arrived â the moment when Grimshaw had to act. The half-alive had substance, but not much in the way of weight. Using what little he had, Grimshaw leaned to the left, changing the junkâs flight path in a small but significant way. Underneath him the metal glowed white hot, vaporising as it fell. When it hit its target it would be a fraction of its original size, but still big enough for Grimshawâs purpose.
Clouds were rushing up to meet him in cathedrals of blue-white vapour that looked almost solid. For a fleeting moment, Grimshaw felt their cool touch as the junk dived into them. Then the junk sizzled their towers, domes and twisting helter-skelters into steam as it tore through and out the other side. Grimshaw burst out into air that stung his skin
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