Grishkin slid out of the Soyuz lander nearest Korolev, trailing a bundle of tools and meters on a nylon lanyard. ‘They all check out. The crash left them under their own automatics. I’ve been at their remotes with a screwdriver so they can’t be overriden by ground control. How are you doing, my Nikita!’ he asked the Plumber. ‘You’ll be going in steep to central China.’