by T I WADE
“One pilot can do that easily,” confirmed Jonesy. “I think it far more important to get our rock collections down there so that we can all get paid one day, and then you can get all your panels up here faster. Now, tell me what I missed, somebody has to monitor the flying of this vehicle.”
“The news teams viewed and took footage of our third shuttle under production,” continued Ryan deep in thought. “Nobody could really see how complete it was. It is actually six weeks away from being lifted aboard the C-5 for her first 50,000-foot test flight. Mr. Noble suggested that we use both our current shuttles, the second acting as if our new production shuttle is ready earlier, so that we could get some more flights in.”
“But what about cloaking?” asked Jonesy.
“We can launch Asterspace Three; she is ready and waiting, but is fitted with the older hydrogen thrusters, which don’t matter for simple cargo transfer runs. Asterspace Three could be loaded with the panels, or other cargos from both shuttles while in a low-earth orbit. All our craft have been fitted with the Cloaking Device. Yes, Mr. Noble, I’ve got it. Suzi could fly Asterspace Three with Mr. Pitt. The shuttle teams could transfer the loads during orbit to Asterspace Three. The smaller craft heads back to Ivan to unload and refuel, while the shuttle goes back down looking like just another test flight. It will take the small craft twenty-four hours to get up to Ivan, a day to unload, and two days to rest and for Michael Pitt set up the eight panels for the spiders. Mr. Pitt has the spiders pretty much perfected and he will begin the second cube with the eight panels we have on this flight.
So, let’s say Asterspace Three needs one more day to descend back into low-earth orbit. With the pilots wearing full suits, keeping the Cloaking Device on extended use will not harm the pilots of Asterspace Three. Now we can use both shuttles for departures on five-day intervals to get our equipment up there. What we need is a lifting arm in each shuttle, like the Canadian arm in the old NASA shuttles, and I have two half completed.”
Ryan immediately called ground control over the radio. “Gentlemen, remember the crane arm we shelved last year for the shuttles?” They confirmed they still had them in storage. “I want our shuttles to have them installed during their next rotations. We can have a spacewalker operating it from a console in the cargo bay. Get them ready, and get one arm on the production floor for the new shuttle.”
“OK!” added Jonesy. “I get it. Instead of our long distance flight up to the Beer Can, the third little guy is loaded while we are still in our first or second orbit. It has its Cloaking Device permanently on, and heads up while the shuttle returns. In theory you can double the flights if there are no hitches?”
“Correct, Mr. Jones. Also, by stating that our new shuttle needs to go through the same test-flight procedure, we buy even more launches; and, as long as they don’t look in the direction of our new space station for another few months, we should be clear. Hopefully, the new government will be squabbling over the goodies you guys bring home, and once DX2014 is out of range, we could have a shuttle going up every third day with Astermine One and Two helping to take the loads up. Mr. Noble, you are now on the same income as your partner here.”
“About time with all that Sinatra I have to put up with!” exclaimed VIN. “It’s time for a little danger pay!”
Six days later, with Ryan now experienced at living in space including the use of the horrible bath-bags, he returned to Earth; on this flight Michael Pitt was Astronaut-in-Command for the first time and Ryan was his co-pilot. Michael had the spiders working on the most recently delivered panels and with the next flight arriving with Astermine One; he had time for a little earth time.
Because with each touchdown the computers more accurately positioned the shuttle in the correct path for reentry, both Michael and Ryan, as backup co-pilot, could fly the shuttles as well as the more-experienced pilots. They would meet Penny and Kathy Pringle on their outward flight with the Astermine One mining craft refitted with the new hydrogen thrusters and sleeping cabin with two real beds.
A week later the two shuttles, Astermine One with Jonesy and VIN, and Astermine Two with a lonely Maggie in command, took off for the two million miles to meet up with their rock quarry buddy, DX2014.
Jonesy was impressed with the new thrusters. They certainly worked fast and with little effort. Over the seven-day journey to the asteroid, they discussed their mining tactics for their much shorter 21-day stay on the revolving asteroid.
They would need to work hard to fill the sixty canisters, this time with the more valuable silver rhodium rocks instead of the heavier platinum rocks. They hoped nothing had happened to their equipment; Jonesy even suggested that the Chinese could already be there using it. It was possible.
By the time the friendly piece of metallic rock appeared off their starboard portal, floating twenty miles away at its steady 3,000 miles an hour, VIN looked back at earth, now in the left-hand side of the front cockpit portal. It was twice the size he had seen it when they had left it a couple of weeks earlier. It was again the size of a soccer ball, and the moon could be seen, a little larger than a marble on the far side of the blue planet. This was going to be a pretty vista for the next three weeks; even the sun looked a little bigger and brighter.
Jonesy went in closer first. He wanted to buzz the rock and see if it all looked the same as before. It did and he stayed a half a mile away while Maggie went in to land at her landing zone, still visible with bits of cargo they had left near the crater.
“Get your roll right Maggie,” Jonesy stated into the intercom. VIN was co-pilot and didn’t have really much to do, but listen.
“Yes, Mr. Jones, watch my butt! I know,” she replied. VIN watched as she went in slowly and carefully from the rear of the asteroid. “I’m over the crater, 300 yards to go….200….100 yards at 200 feet, using 15 percent thrust. I could feel a slight pull from the crater as I went over, Jonesy.”
“Roger that, at 200 feet I would think it starts to pull you in.”
“Straightening up, thrust 18 percent, she’s light, legs down….touching down….I’m down.”
“Roger, Maggie. As planned we will go into the crater and empty our canisters. I think we could have an hour to fill two of them once we have checked everything down there and then we will come and join you for our sleep period,” said Jonesy. “Pity I couldn’t find that remaining bottle of vodka in the Beer Can. It would have sure been a luxury on this trip. I must ask our friend Michael Pitt if he drank it, the sod!”
“He didn’t,” replied Maggie.
“How do you know that, girl?” Jonesy asked trimming the shuttle thrusters to bring them over the crater.
“I’ll tell you when you get back up here. Now, go mining, Mr. Jones, and earn your pay!”
“Descending through 200 feet, thrusters at 18 percent, 20 percent….150 feet…25 percent, far different than our last landing. Thrusters at 35 percent, 50 feet……touchdown with 40 percent thrust. Wow! That was easy. VIN did you press the easy button?”
“Five thousand comedians out of work in Vegas, partner, and now you want to be a comedian? At least it shows you do have a sense of humor, about the size of those tiny rhodium rocks down there.”
VIN looked at their stash of equipment outside on the barren, gray crater. It looked like part of their pile had toppled over, but most of it looked the same as they left it.
Jonesy helped VIN on with his helmet, and then Jonesy was helped on with his. After nearly a week cooped up in their larger and more pleasurable apartment, now the same size as the inside of two minivans, they got ready for a walk in the “fresh air” outside.
****
Three days after Ryan successfully reached the airfield, and the two spacecraft were halfway to DX2014, a small military helicopter asked for landing permission. It was General Saunders and Ryan gave permission to land on the empty apron.
It was a hot day. The temperature was already well over a hundred as the chopper came in, landing in front of wher
e Ryan was standing outside of Hangar One.
“Good to see you, General,” Ryan shouted shaking the general’s hand and leading him over to the bar for a chocolate milkshake. He was alone.
“I will be taking early retirement next week,” stated General Saunders. “It seems that the air force at the Pentagon did not appreciate me making a fool out of General Mortimer.”
“How did you make a fool out of him?” Ryan asked. “He wasn’t invited.”
“Unfortunately, he didn’t see it that way and hadn’t been told of the celebratory return of the shuttle by air force personnel. The commander of Dover Air Force Base called me and told me to pack my bags as Mortimer had told him that he was now the new Commanding Officer at Nellis. I’m three years out from thirty years and they have no choice but to adhere to my retirement package. I was told yesterday that General Mortimer got involved and tried to stop me from getting any retirement at all. He was told that was not practically possible without being convicted of a crime through a court martial. Then he wanted to start court martial proceedings to try me for some crime they couldn’t come up with.
The JAG told him he couldn’t continue proceedings without any evidence that a crime had been committed. He actually called you an enemy of the state, a terrorist, and air force high command actually laughed at him. Finally he got me on early retirement with a court martial pending. This all came out from colleagues in high command at Andrews. They couldn’t understand what he was going on about, since all they had seen were Nellis troops and our marching band showing the colors on the arrival of your shuttle. Many of the pilots actually wanted to come over and congratulate you. They can’t understand Washington’s opposition to good old adventure and space flight.”
“So, are you ready to join my company as a space pilot, Mr. Saunders?”
“Looks like it. How do you know I might not be an inside plant for the government?”
“Mr. Jones said that was impossible. He regards you highly; a first, I believe, for Mr. Jones,” responded Ryan smiling. “Are you as qualified as Mr. Jones or Ms. Sinclair?”
“I would say as qualified as Colonel Sinclair was when she was alive,” replied the general honestly.
“Good when can you start? I will get you signed up today and pick you up as usual from Creech when you are available. Travel light, General, my car is small.”
“I can start in forty-eight hours. Is Colonel Jones around? I would like to thank him for the recommendation.”
“No, he is currently about to land on an extraterrestrial rock, Mr. Saunders. Welcome to the group. I just hope Mr. Jones is right about your honesty towards our project.”
General Saunders’ mouth hung open at the thought Ryan had put in his head: Jonesy landing on the moon or Mars. Now he really wanted to get going as he had dreamed about being an astronaut longer than Ryan had.
They spent another few minutes enjoying their milkshakes before the helicopter left for Nellis.
Forty-eight hours later, Ryan picked up Allen Saunders, in civilian clothes, and carrying one small suitcase at Creech Air Force Base. Ryan, in his Audi, was not as savvy as VIN about the black and whites. He saw blue flashing lights in his rearview mirror a mile or so past where the two carriageways joined. He checked his speed and found it to be only five or maybe ten miles over the limit. Ryan wasn’t a fast driver, especially when he was being told that he had just picked up a spy for the United States government.
****
Within an hour of being back on the heavy gravity inside the crater, VIN had the sides of Astermine One open and both men were getting the first canisters out. The top canisters had their supplies in them, the supplies that would have been in the supply area, which was now a bedroom.
VIN was excited to find a three-legged aluminum cargo lifting crane in the hold. It had a thick steel body, eighteen feet tall, and an arm that could stretch out twenty feet on a corded pulley system to pick up the canisters, or lower them from the roof doors of the cargo hold. This made moving the canisters faster. Maggie had one in her craft as well, but it wouldn’t really be needed.
Jonesy was to work the crane next to the craft while VIN was in the hold connecting the full and empty canisters one by one. Now they could lift a full canister which could weigh as much as 1,200 pounds into any of the cargo holds. On the surface by Maggie’s craft, the same cargo would only weigh a fifth of that.
Jonesy grabbed the handle on the wheel and maneuvered up and out of the hold easily. The full canister of a hydrogen gas cylinder moved up and he swiveled it away from the hold and, unwinding the wheel, placed it on the ground in the pile of full canisters. This operation was quick and easy compared to last time. Loading the heavy containers into the hold would be fast.
Once they had the first cargo area cleared of its ten canisters, of which six held supplies, they had four to fill. They had also left half a dozen half-full canisters on the asteroid because there was not enough thruster power to take them out of the crater.
VIN got both sweepers hooked up with a cord to power their cold batteries. The storage battery was powered up by the hydrogen thrusters, and there was a set of moveable small batteries stored inside the cargo hold of the craft. Both sweepers were dead. The cold had done a number on the battery, so Jonesy and VIN took an empty container and two shovels to begin collecting rocks.
They reached the bright glittery area where the rhodium rocks were and began shoveling like they would have done on earth.
It was hard work inside a 250-pound space suit and both men turned down their inside temperatures. This was also dangerous work, as the suits could suffer tears or breaks, but Jonesy had an image of a bottle of that Russian vodka on his mind; he was sure Maggie had stowed the missing bottle in her gear. A cold screw driver would taste pretty good right now.
They filled one canister to its usual 400-pound level, when VIN had one of his brain storms.
“It will be far easier with the two sweepers once they are powered up, partner. We have all the rhodium back there in the canisters we couldn’t take. Instead of working up a sweat and having to use those crappy bath-bags, why don’t we let the sweepers power up for twenty-four hours, and just fill two canisters from the others?”
Jonesy rolled his eyes at earth slowly passing overhead. Why hadn’t he thought about that? He patted VIN on his suit, smacked the back of his partner’s helmet, and they carried the half-full canister back to the others several hundred feet away.
For the next twenty minutes they lifted up the half full canisters and, with the help of gravity on an asteroid over two million miles from earth, they filled two of the canisters to the brim.
Lifting the canisters was pretty easy compared to shoveling the stones. Once full, Jonesy came up with his idea of the day.
“Why are we doing this down here? We could take all these canisters up to Maggie and lift one fifth of the weight up there. The stones will still drop, even though the gravity is low.”
“Now, that’s good thinking, partner,” replied VIN. They had forty minutes left of spacewalk time, and they could get the two full canisters and the three other half empty ones into the hold before heading back up.
Using the crane, they sent in the lighter ones first, and then the two full units. They would be placed into the Astermine Two’s hold first and would not be removed until they returned to Ivan.
“Thrusters on,” stated Jonesy an hour later. They had moved the crane away, closed down the hatches and climbed back over the ladder across the top of the spacecraft and into the docking port. “Power at 20 percent…..40 percent…..65 percent, 70 percent…we have lift off. Coming up to meet you, Maggie.”
“If you haven’t found a diamond, Mr. Jones, a big fat one, don’t bother trying to get in here later,” replied Maggie.
“I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, Ms. Sinclair. I thought flashy things didn’t interest you. How about a beautiful, one-hundred carat radioactive blue rhodium uncut rock instead? I might
throw it at your portal if you won’t let us in, and I’m getting thirsty flying this thing….200 feet….lowering thrust to 40 percent….coming in.”
Astermine One put down on her regular landing pad position and the two men called it a day. They were still on the first day and had at least three canisters out of the sixty full. They could get Maggie’s crane out and transfer the first forty-odd million dollar load the next shift.
Maggie was pleased to see them when they bounced over to say hi. Getting through the docking hatches was becoming easier given the number of times they had done it and, with only 15 to 20 percent gravity, climbing up into the docking hatch was five times easier.
Once she helped the men off with their helmets, she brought out an extremely large bag of jerky that Ryan had given her, as well as something that made Jonesy’s mouth hang open, two real, cold bottles of earth water, and a six-pack of beers.
“What the hell!” Where did you get all this stuff?” Jonesy asked looking inside her refrigerator in her bedroom. “It’s stocked full of beer, vodka, and wine!” There were also bags of jerky and cookies under the low beds. “How come we didn’t get any?”
“You are. This is all yours, apart for my six-pack of champagne and red wine bottles, and my cookies. I was ordered to keep them under lock and key until we got here. There are a few more goodies in one of the supply canisters in the hold, so be careful opening them out there.”
“At last!” added VIN smiling and getting a cold beer handed to him. “Ryan thinks we are now worth looking after. I was getting sick of scrambled eggs and chicken soup packs.”
Since one other person was needed to undo a space helmet, both men stayed in Astermine Two that night. VIN stayed in front on the co-pilot’s captain’s chair which had been extended to lie flat, while the two older lovers closed the interconnecting door, pulled the two beds together on their rails and had their moment of space privacy.
