The Mammoth Book of Space Exploration and Disasters

Sasha Kaleri broke in. “No, we don’t understand the reaction. Maybe it’s some kind of redistribution of the density of the charge, or something like that. We have to look into the history of the storage.”

“Okay, we’ve got that. Did we understand you correctly that the old one, the one that was stored a long time, got on fire?”

“Well,” says Kaleri, “they were from a container that’s in [Kvant]. Behind the panels.” He read off some serial numbers.

Korzun cut in. “Guys, we also have a question on the chemistry of this substance. It didn’t burn to the end, because water was put on it. Does it mean that there are no toxins there? And what happens when you put water on it?”

One of the senior Russian doctors, Igor Goncharov, get on comm. “Guys, we will give you the precise information on toxins later. And here’s another thing. Please put on masks by all means.”

“We’re using masks,” says Korzun.

“Now dairy products are recommended. Take more milk and curds.”

“Yes, yes.”

“You can take vitaron. Two capsules.”

“Okay.”

“You can also [take] carbolen. If you have headache symptoms and so on.”

The doctors congratulated Korzun and the entire crew for a job well done and urged them to sleep. Everyone tried. No one slept soundly.

The Soyuz which had brought MIR 23 was docked at the node. During the fire, the crew of MIR 22 had been cut off from their escape craft which was docked at the Kvant.

The fire had happened while they were out of communication – Linenger thought it lasted about 14 minutes; TsUP said it was a “microfire” which had only lasted 90 seconds.

Twelve hours later they were still wearing their 3M masks.

The near miss

On 4 March the supply vessel Progress M-33 was due. The Progress had been described as an eight-ton bumblebee with two solar arrays like wings. Tsibliyev manned the TORU with the Kurs radar providing information about the Progress’s range and speed. Ground control released the Progress 7km away from Mir; at the speed it was moving it would take 15 minutes to get to Mir. Linenger was watching from Kristall. When the Progress was 5km away the camera on board should have activated but it failed to give a picture. Tsibliyev remembered:

It was the most uncomfortable [time]. I felt as if I was sitting in a car, but I couldn’t see anything from the car, and I knew there was this huge truck out there bearing down on me. You don’t know if it’s going to hit you or miss you. It’s like a torpedo, and you’re in a sub.

“Where is it?” Tsibliyev began asking the others. “Do you see it yet?”

“No,” said Lazutkin, peering out the big base block window behind the commander.

“No, nothing,” Linenger said over the intercom. There are three windows in Kristall, and he was floating between all three, scanning space for any sign of the Progress.

They waited.

“Do you see it?” Tsibliyev shouted a few moments later.

“No, I don’t see it,” Linenger breathed over the intercom. Lazutkin, floating at the base block window, shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.

Several moments passed.

“Do you see it?” Tsibliyev asked again.

“I don’t see anything,” Linenger replied, hurriedly shuttling between his portals.

Static filled the Sony monitor. Linenger could tell from the tone of Tsibliyev’s voice the Russian was growing anxious. More time went by. Somewhere out there a fully loaded spaceship was bearing down on them.

“Where is it?” Tsibliyev demanded. He turned to Lazutkin. “What should I do?”

Lazutkin had no advice.

They waited.

At the two-minute point, Tsibliyev began to sweat.

“Do you see it?” he shouted again.

“No, I don’t see it,” Linenger said. Lazutkin concurred. “Nothing,” he said.

“Find it!” Tsibliyev ordered. “Find it!”

After several more moments, during which he floated back and forth between Kristall’s three portals peering into the inky blackness of space, Linenger heard Lazutkin’s voice over the intercom. It was filled with tension.

“Jerry, get back in base block quick,” he said.