Chapter 83 - 81 Return_1

The space agency was caught in a great dilemma.

Even without the XS-62 tourist cabin, Tiangong No.2 could still complete its residency mission with little impact.

But docking with XS-62 meant that the astronauts’ space could be greatly expanded, a super-large cabin segment could match the capacity of more than a dozen smaller ones, and this was not to be overlooked.

Most importantly, the price was not expensive, 1.6 billion for 620 cubic meters of space, including the launch. The space agency could not figure out how to get such a big thing into space with 1.6 billion of its own.

After several days of ideological struggle at the Fifth Institute, the space agency went through several days of ideological struggle as well, during which the Progress spacecraft had already returned to Earth.

At 12 p.m. on July 24, the trio squeezed into the narrow crew cabin of the space shuttle for the final lunch of this flight.

Kung Pao chicken, minced pork with eggplant, grilled beef ribs... all sponsored by the space agency, free of charge.

This was the new generation of space food developed by the space agency’s food department after multiple flight missions, much tastier than New Yuan’s food department.

The latter, due to the urgency of time, was simply aimed at ensuring that no one would die from eating, definitely not as delicious as the space agency’s.

However, Deng Lei gnawed on the beef ribs with little appetite.

It wasn’t due to the melancholy of leaving space, although there was some, but that wasn’t the main issue. The main problem was the smell inside the Progress cabin.

A space of several cubic meters crammed with three big men could be endured for three days, but during these three days, they certainly weren’t going without food or drink.

The toilet on the Progress was a narrow space blocked off by a stiff fabric, where bathing (wiping the body) and toilet activities took place. Although excrement was vacuumed away, there still was a smell.

The air circulation system was working at full power, the indicators were normal, but there was always a strange odor in the air.

There was nothing that could be done from the ground, mainly due to the small space. One had to endure it. It would be more comfortable with the space station.

The independent bathroom of the XS-62 was about the same size as the orbital module of the Shenzhou Spaceship, with its own air circulation system, ensuring no odors would be present.

The trio ate their lunch and put the packaging bags together: this was important because the aluminum foil material was conductive and had sharp folded edges, posing a danger as well.

Lastly, all three simultaneously opened a small plastic bag’s twist knob, containing 5 ml of grape wine, marking the end of the 72-hour space journey.

Commander Deng Lei raised the bag of liquid, "Gentlemen, we are not celebrating three days in space, but 48 days because we have experienced 48 sunrises and sunsets."

Zhou Rui: ...

Zhao Xiaowen: ...

"To the forty-eight days!"

All three tilted their heads back and squeezed the wine into their mouths, Zhao Xiaowen rolled backward due to squeezing too hard, fortunately grabbing the chair in time.

After securing anything that could fall inside the cabin, the three of them helped each other into their bulky Pressurized Anti-load Space suits and fastened their face masks, securing themselves firmly in their seats.

The backrests and leg supports automatically adjusted based on the body data of the three crew members to the most comfortable positions, and the Life Sustaining System began pressurizing the space suits.

At this moment, only Zhou Rui was free, as Deng Lei constantly operated the control panel, checking the status of various components.

The most critical parts were communications, radar, engine, and heat shield. Loss of the latter could mean destruction and death, while losing the former two was equally perilous.

If contact with the ground was lost and navigation was impossible, the entire space shuttle depended on Deng Lei using offline maps to estimate their position to find a suitable place for a forced landing and then figure it out after—just the thought of it was quite terrible.

Unlike ordinary manned spacecraft, the control authority of the Progress was shared between ground control and the astronauts, with the astronauts having sole decision-making authority.

Therefore, after Deng Lei finished checking the parameters, he sent the deceleration and descent command to the spacecraft’s control system.

The RCS (Reaction Control System) gradually turned the shuttle in the opposite direction of its course, then the 25-ton class hydrogen-oxygen engine at the tail began to operate, limiting thrust to about 13%, which was the most fuel-efficient point for the engine at low thrust.

Due to the increasing thrust and continuously decreasing fuel, the deceleration would become faster and faster, and it would entirely fall out of orbit and begin its entry into the atmosphere in about 40 minutes.

This was not the same as flying an airplane; Deng Lei didn’t need to control the spacecraft’s attitude before fully entering the atmosphere—this all was undertaken by the computer.

"02, 03, my craft is about to enter the atmosphere, adjust your attitude!"

In low Earth orbit, a remote sensing satellite owned by the space agency also locked onto Progress, continuously sending correction data to the Progress computer via ground and space-based tracking.

Deng Lei felt like he was not entering the atmosphere but rather riding on a surfboard undulating with the tide.

Progress made contact with the atmosphere above San Francisco, and its ablative layer on the underside fiercely frictioned against the atmosphere, producing a bright orange glow.

At this moment, it was 10 pm on the 23rd of St. Francisco, and many people just had to look up to see a splendid meteor streaking across the sky, rapidly moving eastward.

"Catch it! Catch it! (We got it!)"

However, not everyone thought it was a meteor; there were also many space enthusiasts in America who were tracking Progress as it slashed across the sky from the countryside.

"The shuttle, the Jinbu shuttle (That’s a space shuttle, the ’Progress’ space shuttle)!"

"(Translated) She’s beautiful, just like a miniature STS; God knows why they had to retire the space shuttle."

"(Translated) Those three are the coolest astronauts I’ve ever seen; two of them are university professors, and one of them is almost 60 years old. The space shuttle really can bring civilians into space."

Among these people was a blonde old man who was also watching Progress streak across the sky from the rooftop of his luxurious hotel.

"Cheer for that, cheer for that, cheer for that!"

Just like China, America’s love for space shuttles was in no short supply, especially since the retirement of the space shuttle in 2011. They never stopped yearning for it.

To Deng Lei and Zhao Xiaowen, it felt like they were a small boat in giant waves, the dense atmosphere as splashing foam, riding rapidly over these waves like a speedboat, soaring up and down, putting roller coasters to shame compared to the kiddie rides at the entrance of a supermarket.

When atmospheric particles whizzed past the portholes, it was as if someone was pounding on the glass with a hammer, making Progress tremble as though it was about to fall apart.

This wasn’t an issue of strength; the vibrations were harmless to Progress, and had it been a 100-ton H2, the vibrations would have been much less significant.

In the constant ups and downs, the dark space before their eyes was gradually replaced by a bright blue sky.

Current altitude of Progress: 50,000 meters.

The shaking of the space shuttle had disappeared, and the only sounds Deng Lei could hear were the steady whirring of the air circulation system and the electrical hum of machinery in operation.

He grasped the thick stick with his palm. Now it was his turn to take the controls.

By this time, he had already entered the outskirts of the Island Country’s airspace; two F15Js and a P3C took off, closely monitoring Progress from afar as it slowed down to Mach 5.

Ground control reported the situation to Deng Lei, who then opened the public channel and heard the greeting from the other party.

"Air Self-Defense Force, we kindly request collaboration with you, command leader of the heroes."

Before he could decide whether or not to respond, he heard a familiar voice in Chinese over the public channel.

"This is the China Air Force, the foreign aircraft ahead; we are on an escort mission, please ensure to avoid interference and maintain distance."

Four J11BSH fighter jets took off from Fuzhou, met up with Progress over international waters, and escorted it the whole way.

Deng Lei, feeling a lot more at ease with his own countrymen escorting him, slowly descended in altitude. By the time he was around Qiongzhou Island, his altitude had dropped to 13,000 meters. The pilots of the two fighter jets beside him gave him a thumbs-up, then pulled up their noses and flew back to the airfield on either side.

The Xinyuan Launch Site’s ground air traffic control guided Progress onto the landing approach, while a Y12 aircraft took off to monitor and direct the landing.

Deng Lei, relying on his experience in the simulator, slightly raised the nose of the craft and sped onto the 340 kilometers per hour approach, flawlessly landing on the runway.