No More Final Frontiers

“Mister Hevia.” Han Feixing called over the radio.
“Madame EdCo?” Dennis replied.
“Open the pod bay doors, Hal.” Han replied. The dodgy electronics in Dennis’ suit cut out a syllable or two, but he knew the order by heart.
“Opening the pod bay doors.” Dennis called back. He slid a thin-gloved finger across the vast doors of the space shuttle Discovery, manually unlatching the fore compression locks. “Yuri, do you copy?”
“Copy, Dennis.” Yuri said. “Opening the pod bay doors.”
Noiselessly, another lock released under Dennis’ hands. On the other end of the payload doors, Dennis watched a little puff of condensed air evaporate from under Yuri’s hands.
“All fore locks disengaged, Madame EdCo.” Dennis said. “Yuri, how’re you doing?”
Another puff of air.
“Finished.” He said. “All aft locks disengaged, Madame EdCo. Positioning.”
Dennis loved this part of the day. He brought his legs between his torso and Discovery’s tender skin, and gently pushed off, letting out his line behind him. He fell carefully into the black, feeding line out through his fingers. Finally, he tightened his grip and slowly came to a halt, relative to the shuttle.
“We are in position, Madame EdCo.” Yuri reported. “Open the pod bay doors, Hal.”
Below them, the sun glinted off the white skin of Discovery as the doors opened majestically. It was just them, and Discovery, and the pregnant swell of the Earth hanging in a beautiful inky black sky. Dennis tensed in anticipation, and he could hear Yuri’s shallow, excited breath in the static of the radio. It was the last flight of the season, and they wanted to make it a good one.
The doors were open, and now a sheet of transparent aluminum was all that stood between the payload and the void. Dennis watched the lights dim in the payload space, where thirty children sat strapped in, and searched for a set of eyes filled with wonder.
He saw only darkness there, broken in one or two places by the screen glow of handhelds and pads.
“Bad luck,” Yuri said, shielding his eyes, “we look good in the sunlight, but it makes it hard to see the children, yes?”
Dennis went to shield his eyes. It didn’t help. He didn’t see anyone in the payload space looking out.