Edgley had always known that he would have to bail out with his golden parachute at some point and the Waste-REL had given him the perfect opportunity to get rich, really rich, mind-bogglingly rich -- fast.
Edgley was much less likely to ever get rich by actually staying at STC because STC was less likely to make a profit than most companies. This was because STC had been designated an "ethical" company and presidents and C.E.O.s of "ethical" companies had to sign contracts saying that they wouldn't do anything that could put them in jail. These constraints made it nearly impossible to make a profit and seriously reduced the talent pool of qualified executives who would be willing to make the sacrifice to run these companies. That's how Edgley got hired in the first place. Because of its original association with NASA and national security, it was assumed that STC would apply the highest ethical standards to everything it did, making profit taking almost impossible and ruining all the fun for top management and the board of directors.
Of course, this meant that any competent senior manager who took the job would have to be incentivized with a severance guarantee that would bankrupt most national treasuries.
Edgley watched the ascent of the NASA loaner shuttle with glee. In his mind's eye he could see the shuttle bay doors opening and the Waste-REL being yanked out by the Canada-arm and the shuttle returning to Earth and the Waste-REL exploding. He could see a little Iced Portia Flap-accino writhing in space, eyes agape in her last moment of shock and surprise. He could imagine the morning news with the big black headlines: "STC Garbage Satellite Destroyed!" "Oh, the humanity," he whispered with a smile.
As he walked to the parking lot, briefcase in hand, he fantasized the STC board of directors sadly, reluctantly, embarrassingly having to ask him to resign. He imagined a great big paycheck and then the subsequent great big checks that would continue to flow, like a river of wine, women and song, into the ample bosom of his ever-expanding financial portfolio. Edgley smiled a huge, gaping wound of a smile that was nearly big enough to crack his head in two. He plopped into his waiting limo and told the driver-bot to take him to Orlando Airport. He was going back to Texas and he wasn't ever coming back.
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Orson and the protesters watched the ascent with a certain amount of anticipation. Although they would never admit it, deep inside most of them kind of half-wanted the vehicle to detonate right there, before their eyes, to some extent because it would be fascinating to watch (though blinding) but mostly so they wouldn't look like fools for having wasted so much time protesting. This level of anticipation lasted until the only evidence left of the shuttle's existence was an empty launch pad and some dissipating exhaust.
Many protesters breathed a long sigh, relieved that the shuttle had not rained radioactive debris everywhere. But they had lives and responsibilities and the beer cooler was empty and soon they were gone, except for those who had come on the bus and would now have to explain what had happened to the driver-bot.
-----
Zero gravity. Experiencing zero gravity in a tourist shuttle, in low orbit, was no big deal. A tourist shuttle gradually approaches the upper stratosphere like an airplane, taking off from a runway, gradually ascending to the 25-mile altitude on what is essentially a kite on long wings peppered with forty-eight solar powered engines. At this height, the tourist craft could theoretically transfer out of low Earth orbit into a higher orbit with some kind of booster rocket, but such a burst of power would tear apart the big kite and everyone would ask for their money back -- given that the parachutes worked. As Verna would tell you, zero gravity on the tourist shuttle is actually a function of computer controlled free-fall anyway, and not true zero gravity as seen on TV.
However, the crew of the Waste-REL had to get far beyond the thermosphere. They had to reach a distance of at least 24,000 miles, or a tenth of the distance to the moon, just to get started. This required being fired off the Earth by a fairly substantial canon, which has the drawback of being very uncomfortable as you go up. This meant experiencing g-forces in which your digestive tract gets to find out what it would be like to reside in your chest. Both Ayame and Verna were excited to be back in a micro-gravity environment because they thought it was fun because they'd done it before. However, Portia, Donny, Mickey and Lyle felt like their guts were trying to escape out their ears.
As it was, the shuttle was targeting a geosynchronous orbit above the equator, the messiest place in space, just as Jules had predicted. Upon their arrival, statistical calculations indicated that they would have less than an hour to get the Waste-REL into place before being hammered by a chunk of old satellite or an old wrench travelling at 6,000 km/hour.
Statistics are usually only a guideline, but in the case of this specific flight, the predictions were unfortunately way too accurate. Upon their arrival, at exactly 18:32 hours EST, the space shuttle Advantage was hit by a non-functional, 1990's digital TV satellite that some bozo had thought would look cool painted black. The entire tail section of the shuttle was torn off, leaving the cockpit unharmed but forcing a serious change in their trajectory.
This is how the moment played out:
"We're here," announced Ayame, after the retrorockets stopped firing. Everyone sighed, except Portia, who kept trying new sitting positions without getting any more comfortable.
"What's next?" asked Portia.
"We have to get into the Waste-REL and then Ayame has to get us out of the shuttle bay in the next 60 minutes," said Donny.
"Yeah, or we're toast," said Lyle. "If we don't move fast we'll get hit by a big metal thing with antennaes on it."
"Everybody knows what to do, right?" said Mickey.
"I don't know what to do," said Portia.
"That's okay," said Lyle. "You can hold my hand. I know what to do."
"Okay, Lyle," said Donny. "You get Portia on board. Verna, you go with Lyle, because you have to be the first on board."
"Wasn't Portia supposed to be our fearless leader?" asked Verna, smirking and winking at Portia.
"Fearless, Ha!" said Portia.
"Mickey you go next and I'll follow you," said Donny.
"Uh huh," affirmed Mickey, smiling at his buddy for encouragement.
That was when the dead satellite the size of a refrigerator ripped off the tail section of the shuttle at approximately 9,000 km/hr. The only person who had gotten around to removing her safety belts was Verna and she was tossed onto the wall of the cockpit as the shuttle spun sideways.
"What WAS THAT?!" yelled Portia as the others expleted loudly.
"Ohmygaw, are you okay?" yelled Lyle at Verna.
"Yeah, I think…"
"We've been hit," interrupted Ayame. "We've got to move fast." She started unbuckling as a helpful visual aid. "Get into the Waste-REL NOW!"
Next: Shuttle Away
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