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All of a sudden the capsule swung out to the right in a yaw, out about twenty degrees. Then it was as if it hit a little wall. It bounced back. Then it swung out again in the yaw and hit the little wall and bounced back. Something had gone out in the automatic attitude control. Never mind the celestial fireflies. He was sailing over California, heading for Florida. Now all the capcoms were coming alive, all right.
President Ke
Gle
Every five minutes he had to shift his radio communications to a new capcom. You couldn't receive and send at the same time, either. It wasn't like a telephone hookup. So you spent half the time just making sure you could hear each other.
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is CYI." That was the Canary Islands capcom. "The time is now 16:32:26. We are reading you loud and clear; we are reading you loud and clear. CYI."
Gle
"Friendship 7… We do not read you, do not read you. Over."
"Friendship 7, this is Kano. At G.M.T. 16:33:00. We do not… This is Kano. Out."
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is CYI Com Tech. Over."
Glen said: "Hello, Canary. Friendship 7. Receive you loud and a little garbled. Do you receive me? Over."
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is CYI Com Tech. Over."
"Hello, Canary, Friendship 7. I read you loud and clear. How me? Over."
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is CYI Com Tech. Over."
"Hello, CYI Com Tech. Friendship 7. How do you read me? Over."
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is CYI, CYI Com Tech. Do you read? Over."
"Roger. This is Friendship 7, CYI. I read you loud and clear. Over."
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is CYI Com Tech, CYI Com Tech. Do you read? Over."
"Hello, CYI Com Tech. Roger, read you loud and clear. Over."
"Friendship 7, this is CYI Com Tech. Read you loud and clear also, on UHF, on UHF. Standby."
"Roger. Friendship 7."
"Friendship 7, Friendship 7, Friendship 7, this is Canary capcom. How do you read? Over."
"Hello, Canary capcom. Friendship 7. I read you loud and clear. How me?"
Finally, the Canary Islands capcom said: "I read you loud and clear. I am instructed to ask you to correlate the actions of the particles surrounding your spacecraft with the actions of your control jets. Do you read? Over."
"This is Friendship 7. I did not read you clear. I read you loud but very garbled. Over."
"Roger. Cap asks you to correlate the actions of the particles surrounding the vehicle with the reaction of one of your control jets. Do you understand? Over."
"This is Friendship 7. I do not think they were from my control jets, negative. Over."
There—exactly five minutes to get one question out and one answer. Well, at least they finally showed an interest in the fireflies. They wondered if they might have something to do with the malfunctioning thrusters. Oh, but it was a struggle.
In any case, he was not particularly worried. He could control the attitude manually if he had to. The fuel seemed to be holding out. Everything hummed and whined and buzzed as usual inside the capsule. The same high background tones came over the radio. He could hear the oxygen coursing through his pressure suit and his helmet. There was no "sensation" of motion speed at all, unless he looked down at the earth. Even then it slid by very slowly. When the thrusters spurted hydrogen peroxide, he could feel the capsule swing this way and that. But it was like the ALFA trainer on earth. He still didn't feel weightless. He was still sitting straight up in his chair. On the other hand, the camera—when he wanted to reload it, he just parked it in the empty space in front of his eyes. It just floated there in front of him. Way down there were little flashes all over the place. It was lightning in the clouds over the Atlantic. Somehow it was more fascinating than the sunset. Sometimes the lightning was inside the clouds and looked like flashlights going on and off underneath a blanket. Sometimes it was on top of the clouds, and it looked like firecrackers going off. It was extraordinary, and yet there was nothing new about the sight. An Air Force colonel, David Simons, had gone up in a balloon, alone, to 102,000 feet, for thirty-two hours and had seen the same thing.
Gle
"Roger," said Gle
He wanted to ask why. But that was against the code, except in an emergency situation. That fell under the heading of nervous chatter.
Over Australia old Gordo, Gordo Cooper, got on the same subject: "Will you confirm the landing-bag switch is in the off position? Over."
"That is affirmative," said Gle
"You haven't had any banging noises or anything of this type at higher rates?"
"Negative."
"They wanted this answer."
They still didn't say why, and Gle