SPACE SHUTTLE OLYMPIA
EARTH ORBIT

The light streaming into the shuttle orbiter began to turn orange as it hit the atmosphere, before reaching a deep salmon color, the result of the ionisation of the air running over the surface of the craft at hypersonic speeds. Anyone viewing the rear of the shuttle would also have seen the big shock waves that hit the tail as the air came off the wings and the nose. Having taken this ride before, Mission Commander Nathan Winters smiled. He knew this was actually all normal, with only a slight buzz as they came down from supersonic to subsonic speed. Now that the mission was almost over, he couldn't help reflecting on how it had began, ten days earlier...

It had been only an hour or so after dawn, but the Florida sun was already brutal as it bounced off that vast expanse of bone-white concrete and in through the windows of the vehicle carrying the seven astronauts across to the launch pad. Winters was hardly new to this but the butterflies in his stomach had been no less than on his first mission. Not that he had let it show. As Mission Commander of the Space Shuttle Olympia this time out it had been his job to inspire confidence in his crew and he had personally briefed the newbies on what to expect based on his own experiences. He glanced around him at them now, all in their space suits and securely strapped back in their seats, proud of what they had accomplished.

This was Winters' third shuttle mission, and his first as Mission Commander. His pilot was Qing Yuan Zhang - Colonel, USAF. Just like Winters, only he was now retired from the service. They had known each other almost twenty years, though this was the first time they had been in space together. The five Mission Specialists were husband and wife team Joe and Carole Branson, Jill Reilly, Mark Stoker, and Ray Washington. Winters, Jill Reilly, and the Bransons were all married with children, the others all unmarried and childless. In Qing Yuan's case, this was because she had put career ahead of family, and Mark Stoker was gay, though discreet enough this had never caused any real problems with NASA. Ray Washington was black, quiet, intense, the youngest member of the crew - Winters had never really managed to get a satisfactory 'read' on him.

These were the people Winters had shared his life with for the past ten days. Now they would be going their separate ways. They had had a lot of tasks to get through, but it had been a pretty routine mission, as unremarkable as a shuttle mission ever can be. Beside him now Qing Yuan made some adjustments, keeping the nose high to dissipate any drag, and Winters took a moment to run an appreciative eye over her. Tall for an Asian woman, she still had the same slender figure he'd admired when they first met as young military graduates over twenty years ago. While not as conventionally beautiful as, say, Jill Reilly with her red hair, classic features and fashion model figure, Qing was still an attractive woman and Winters wondered - not for the first time - why she had never married or had any relationship that had lasted more than a few months. Perhaps she had just never found the right man.

Their return to Earth was not a flight so much as a controlled fall, but though quieter and longer than the launch (an hour as against eight minutes) it had the potential to be every bit as dangerous. For a long time these missions had been regarded as entirely routine. That was until January 28, 1986, until Challenger. Winters was musing on this when it happened.

The light coming in through the windows suddenly vanished, blinking out as instantaneously as if a switch had been thrown. In the eerie silence that followed, the total blackness was broken only by the lights from the instrument panels. Then Qing Yuan made her announcement.

"Commander, the Earth...!"

"What about it?"

"It's not there anymore."

As suddenly as it had gone away, the salmon light of reentry returned, streaming in through the windows.

"Planetary status?" asked Winters.

"It..it's back," said Qing Yuan, sounding shaken. "I don't understand what just happened."

"Neither do I. It's like we were cut off from the universe for a few seconds there. I have no idea what that was."

They all had a lot of time to think during the remaining descent, and Winters had no doubt what everyone was thinking about. As soon as it was possible to reestablish radio contact with mission control he did so.

"Come in Mission Control," he said, "this is the Olympia orbiter. We have successfully completed atmospheric reentry."

This was greeted with silence. Winters waited ten seconds and was about to send the message again when the radio crackled into life.

"Uhh...please repeat, orbiter."

"I repeat, this is Colonel Nathan Winters, commander of the space shuttle Olympia. You may have lost us for a few seconds there - we're not sure why - but the orbiter successfully completed atmospheric reentry."

More silence, then the radio crackled into life again.

"Acknowledged, Olympia. We're also puzzled by the loss of contact on this end. We'll debrief you when you land."

"Huh," said Joe Branson, "he was trying to sound calm but I could tell he was freaked out about something."

"It has to be the loss of contact," said Carole Branson. "They were monitoring the descent and must've seen something they don't like, so they're taking precautions."

The orbiter landed on the high desert of Edwards AFB ten seconds later than scheduled according to the onboard chronometers, jolting the crew forward against their restraining harnesses as the rear parachute deployed, rapidly reducing forward momentum. As the craft slowly came to a halt, they loosened their harnesses and removed their helmets.

"I wonder what this place was really like back when it was called Muroc?" said Winters, as a way of breaking the silence. "I suppose we've all read the books about that time, even talked to some of the original Mercury Seven who started out as test pilots there if we're lucky, but nothing can truly recapture those days."

"Always sounded pretty primitive to me," sniffed Jill, "and a macho boy's club, too. I'll take modern conveniences and attitudes over that any time."

As was standard procedure, there would now be a wait on the runway of several hours to allow the orbiter to cool. Soon, a small fleet of vehicles would be racing towards them, teams deploying to the front and rear of the orbiter to test for presence of hydrogen, monomethylhydrazine, hydrazine, nitrogen tetroxide and ammonia, while others would attach purge and vent lines to remove toxic gases from fuel lines and the cargo bay.

Except none of that happened.

"Where are the recovery vehicles?" asked Mark Stoker after a few minutes.

"Good question," said Winters. "Olympia to Mission Control, come in please."

"Olympia, this is Mission Control, please remain calm while we decide how to proceed."

"Explain, please. Is this anything to do with what happened to us during our descent, with the few seconds we seemed to be somewhere else?"

"Affirmative, Olympia. But you weren't gone for a few seconds...you vanished for over six minutes."