by T I WADE
“At what speed do your computers suggest these four rocks will be traveling by the time they reach the pull of the moon?” Ryan asked.
“That is the good news,” Ryan’s friend replied. “Currently DX2014B has a stable speed of 3,690 miles an hour faster than Earth, and will be coming directly from behind Earth, the others behind it are slightly faster. The pull of our moon could increase that, but not more than 20 percent over the three-week period the asteroids will be in the moon’s most powerful attraction area. Unfortunately, at this slower speed, they will certainly be turned into some type of orbit around Earth or the moon. If that happens, the results can be either very good or very bad; going into orbit could protect us, or they could go into an orbit which will guarantee a hit sometime in our future. None of these asteroids are large enough to cause a worldwide catastrophe individually; it would require a six-mile wide asteroid to do to us what the dinosaur asteroid did to our planet millions of years ago. The largest piece, DX2014C, has been measured at 1.4 miles wide. However, if all four hit Earth one after the other, then they have the mass to cause a major catastrophe.”
“And will they be closer to Earth than our geostationary satellites, if they miss us and fly past?” Ryan asked.
“That is our next concern. Like the opening break in a game of a pool, when the first ball hits the others, they spread out in many directions. At worst, the asteroids could cause pandemonium with our satellites in space, by hitting one with their slow speeds and not evaporating it, but breaking the satellite up and sending the pieces slicing into others. The thousands of pieces of space junk up there could magnify the disaster especially with low-orbital satellites. I believe that the geostationary satellites at 22,500 miles will be OK, other than from a direct hit, but the military satellites and the ISS could be in trouble.”
Ryan thanked his friend and scheduled a meeting with his team. There wasn’t much he could do except carry on with his plan. At least he could still get more flights into space before trouble was due.
Within two weeks word began to distribute through to the media about a possible disaster from space. Ryan heard about it when Joe Downs called him from Las Vegas to find out if Ryan knew any more than NASA was telling them about asteroids projected to hit Earth.
He said that he didn’t know anything more than what NASA had told the media about the possible close fly-past of a couple of asteroids. Ryan was due to fly up to Ivan the next morning and certainly didn’t want word to get out that he was on a six-day flight to check up on his new space station, America One.
This flight would be his last until he left Earth for space, and he was excited because he would be taking his first three-hour spacewalk with VIN.
Jonesy and Maggie were the astronauts for the fourth flight of 40-foot accommodation and corridor cylinders. One of the new space pilots and one spacewalk-qualified technician had gone on the last two flights; the pilot was needed to help with the transfers and the technician to begin work on connecting the mass of cylinders and corridors to form housing units.
On Ryan’s flight in SB III, a third man would join them, now that several cylinders had been bonded to the completed cubes. Three of the corridor cylinders on Cube One were warm, full of plants and had temporary accommodations ready, with vertical beds, food and water, and a space toilet for four astronauts in each cylinder. Up to this point, there had been only enough room in Ivan for six humans to live and work comfortably.
Suzi, Mr. Rose, VIN, Fritz Warner, Peter Smith and Yuri Gellagov were now together as a team, living it up in Ivan. The two spider controllers who had gone up a week earlier had moved into one of the new, small but cozy, cylinders with a temporary docking port to allow them to work outside.
Extending from the center area of America One, three of the seven cubes would have corridors reaching out vertically from three sides of the cubes to the line of cylinders designed for two horizontal living accommodations—the mid-section at 200 feet out, and the outer-section at 400 feet. The fourth side was the underside where spacecraft could be positioned on docking ports. Forty-foot long thick, aluminum landing legs would be welded to the end cube unit joints, then automated and retracted, on each side of where the nuclear reactor was securely tethered to the craft.
Ryan was a little worried about being away for a whole week, not that he could stop any government agency from entering his airfield if they really wanted to, unless he once again used the airfield’s secret “Choking Device.” The takeover of his company by NASA, and the U.S. government had been put on hold since he had the Las Vegas media ready to arrive at his airfield within thirty minutes. Joe Downs had promised Ryan that his team would be out there as soon as they were called, 24/7.
With this new information from his friend at Hubble, he was sure that the likes of Hal McNealy at NASA, Tom Ward, Joe Bishop and even the President would prioritize the threat of incoming asteroids over harassing Astermine. He also realized that the findings of his late mentor Ivan Yarkovsky, which described how to move bodies of destruction away from hitting Earth, could actually come into fruition in a few weeks’ time (the “Yarkovsky Effects of Meteoroids or Asteroids”).
The second laser would be ready for launch in three weeks; Ryan was moving forward its transfer to space along with the special large oval cylinder being built for the ship’s forward command module. If he could fit the second laser onto America One and make it operational after connecting it to the nuclear reactor, he could use its power, which was three times stronger than the first laser, with the smaller nuclear battery in SB III.
It was time to get his team up there building accommodations for more people who could help build America One. He felt time was getting short. He was concerned he might not have as much time as he needed and was deep in thought when his cell phone rang.
“Richmond,” he answered without looking at the caller ID.
“Mr. Ryan Richmond, the White House operator here, please hold for the President of the United States.” Ryan perked up in his chair. Now he was really worried. It took a minute, but finally he heard the President’s voice.
“Ryan, long time no hear, how are you doing?”
“Not bad, Mr. President,” Ryan replied.
“I’m calling today about your recent meeting on Capitol Hill and the merger of your company into NASA. The government of the United States of America wants to incorporate your company into NASA’s new space mining project. Our aim is to launch one flight a month to the moon or Mars. The government needs to mine $500 billion a year of precious metals to begin reducing our many trillions in foreign debt. I know that Congress didn’t offer you what you wanted, so I’m calling you today to see how I can bridge a deal so that both sides are happy. Ryan, what do I need to do to make you happy enough that you will relinquish your company to NASA?”
“As I have stated, Mr. President, my company is a private, legal, American company with all taxes paid up to date. It is not for sale at this precise moment, but could be sometime in the future.”
“How long in the future, Ryan?”
“I would say that with my current project having the freedom to run its course, six to twelve months from now.”
“We are not prepared to wait a year, Ryan. We need your expertise and your scientists to begin working for us as soon as possible. Thank you for sending those six scientists back to Hal McNealy. Unfortunately they are not much good to NASA with you holding a non-disclosure agreement over their heads about the work they did for you at Astermine.”
“So all you need from me is my scientists, my plans and the projects they did for me?”
“Sort of, Ryan. None of your team will be of any use to NASA if they cannot divulge what they learned, or the projects they worked on. We also need everything you are working on with your space mining project, including plans of your unmanned computer-controlled spacecraft, so we can produce more to go out into space to mine for the U.S. government. We want to have a spacecraft like yours lift off once a m
onth to gather precious metals to pay down the country’s deficit. I promised the people that I would bring down the national debt, and nobody will stop me. If we don’t get moving on this then Russia, Europe, China or another country could overtake the United States and make claim to any mineable planets out there.”
“I doubt that Russia or Europe will get there before you,” suggested Ryan. “Remember I have their best scientists here as well. China is another matter though, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they send mining craft up in space next year.”
“Here is my final offer before we get desperate, Ryan; I offer you two billion dollars for your company and a third billion if you lift all the non-disclosure agreements your scientists.”
“And if I refuse, Mr. President?” Ryan asked.
“Then things are going to get tough for Astermine. We know of your sale of diamonds to Europe, more than one billion dollars’ worth, and untold amounts of rhodium, iridium and platinum to Russia. We are looking for your bank accounts as we speak. Congress has a new committee examining these illegal exports out of the United States, and many believe that we have enough on you to put you away for the rest of your life, and throw away the key.”
“There weren’t any laws pertaining to import duty from outer space when those precious metals arrived here in transit for delivery to their external destinations overseas, Mr. President. I could have flown the cargoes directly into Europe and Russia, but was worried about getting my space shuttles back.”
“Unfortunately, that is incorrect Ryan. The importation laws are being made retro-active to July 1st of this year; this means that once the new amendment to the law is enacted, all of the product you brought from space will be subject to a flat 65 percent import duty.”
“That is illegal, Mr. President.” Ryan responded.
“Not while I’m president, Ryan, and it will help bring down the budget deficit,” was the smiling response.
“Then I had better remind you of a past president, Richard Nixon, and that he also thought he was above the law of the United States of America. I suggest you bite on that bit of information, Mr. President.” There was silence at the other end.
“Mr. Richmond, I suggest that you take advantage of my friendship to you today. If you take the offer, all the potential import duties will be dropped, you walk away with your money; and we don’t mention to the U.S. public that you sold plutonium to the Russians, not platinum. The two words can be easily confused and information can be subject to inadvertently misspeaking a word. The public will be very angry when they find out that you sold radioactive material to a recent Cold War enemy that is anything but an ally of ours. Our plan is airtight, we might have this country wanting to lynch you, and guess what? I just might let them do that.”
“May I have time to think about your proposal, Mr. President?” Ryan asked letting the alpha-male win his round. “Currently my answer is no. In a few months, I might relent and say yes, but I need time, at least ninety days to figure out my future.”
“I will allow you forty-five days, until January 14th Ryan. On January 15th our armed forces will arrive with enough strength our military satellites will not be able to see the dirt your airfield sits on. Forty-five days from tomorrow, the beginning of December, and no more.” And, as usual, the phone clicked in his hand.
Ryan was always careful; he had planned for these types of phone conversations with his Russian scientists for the last three decades. He had purchased the best KGB gadgetry a decade ago to record phone calls. Ryan happily sent a copy of the conversation through his Internet account to the former president twenty minutes later, not really caring whether the government had enough brains to search for and read his email.
Within an hour his friend called him back. He had found the conversation extremely interesting and asked Ryan how he had beaten the White House scrambling system. Ryan smiled and asked the former president to remember where his first scientists had come from. The man quickly understood.
After a twenty-minute discussion concerning the amendment to the importation law, the former president said that he would put out word of illegal maneuverings to his friends in both houses and to watch what happens.
Chapter 14
Ryan meets the skeleton of America One
The threat from the president badly disturbed Ryan’s sleep; he had figured out that he could only get in sixteen more flights before the president’s “D-Day”. He was down to forty-five flights, of which forty were necessary. How could he buy more time for more flights, the 100 tons of equipment to be flown into space? Ironically, the potential danger of the four asteroids might have a silver lining; they could buy more time for him. The only alternative he could think of was to get out of harm’s way; leave the country and set up operations somewhere else.
He was wide awake and wanting desperately to find a solution when he went out for a late night walk, which he thought might help him sleep. He met Allen Saunders doing the same thing and they walked around the airfield together, discussing the Dead Chicken.
Ryan had never believed that he would spend the rest of his life in space, even though he told the team coming with him that was his plan. They all thought they were leaving Earth for the rest of their lives. Unfortunately, living forever in space was not yet feasible with the limited knowledge humans had about life in space. Expansion of this knowledge was what he was hoping for; what else was needed to enable mankind to permanently live away from Earth?
Earth was a mother to humanity; she was a planet that had selfishly formed humans in her own balanced cocoon of life, on her beautiful shores, and she had not intended that these two-legged beasts would live life elsewhere.
During their early days together when, decades ago they were planning their future, the Russian scientists had laughed at his high expectations of sailing off into space never to be seen again. Only he and his initial band of scientists knew his more realistic plan for space travel. He needed to revisit the overall plan with them, and the men and women who were entrusting their lives with him, when he returned in a week.
Ryan dozed as Jonesy and Maggie took him into space. There wasn’t much else he could do strapped down in his seat with his back wanting to bond him permanently to the soft padding. To many of the crew, flying into space was now as usual as driving to the supermarket.
His new experience in space started when Maggie placed him in the shuttle’s docking port. He had a 100-foot nylon cord buckled to the mid-area of his suit and he was about to “walk” in space. This had been his dream for decades: to float in the nothingness of space and see Mother Earth a hundred miles beneath his feet.
Asterspace III caught up with SB III, Suzi and VIN flying her down. As usual the lifting arm in SB III’s hold would lift the single tightly-packed load out of the shuttle’s hold first, then the refueling hose would be connected to Asterspace III and 500 pounds of liquid hydrogen fuel would be transferred from SB III to the spacecraft, floating twenty feet off the shuttle’s port side. With only one load to float over to the spacecraft, it would take VIN twenty minutes to conclude the transfer of the six 40-foot cylinders with their cargo, silicone-sealed inside the inner most cylinder, and ten more minutes to complete the fuel transfer. One of the items in the cargo was the fifth computerized spider with its necessary welding material to help bond the ever-growing numbers of cylinders together.
The rest of the inner cargo included several queen-size beds, a dozen PC computers for the command module, a canister of water and another with food pouches, several aluminum storage lockers, a small elevator mechanism for one of the nine corridors, and the last of the beer and wine-making equipment for Suzi and Mr. Rose.
VIN was getting good at this. Ryan and the second crewmember, Pete Gregory, the new captain of America One, would be floated over to the other craft with VIN’s help. VIN was in charge of the transfer mission and he allowed Ryan to leave the docking port, and to float outside within a few feet of the open hatch, out of the way of
the arm.
Ryan was—literally and figuratively—in heaven. He allowed himself to float slowly out of the port, the already open roof doors of the shuttle only a couple of feet away from where he exited. VIN had made sure he was secure and that his boss wouldn’t float into the way of the cargo arm. With his jet pack he expertly used the pack’s thrusters to float towards the lift-arm controls inside the front area of the shuttle’s cargo hold below Ryan.
It looked so different to Ryan up here. He had spent hundreds of hours in the cargo bays of the shuttles and designing the cargoes. He knew every inch of the shuttle, and now, here he was, over 100 miles high in space, the hold’s interior lights brightly illuminating the tightly packed cylinders.
VIN looked like a Halloween ghost floating around inside the full cargo hold. There was no noise at all apart from his breathing, much like a scuba diver underwater. He held onto the rope with his left hand and tried to stop his legs from wanting to slowly float away. A minute later he soared like an eagle looking down around the nose of the shuttle where he could see the cockpit dash and the forward parts of his two astronauts’ helmets a couple of feet below him.
Then he gathered his strength and looked forward, away from the craft trying to see movement, and the direction they were heading. All he could see were the bright blues and whites of Earth below him, slowing moving past the front of the shuttle’s cockpit nose. It looked exactly like looking out of an aircraft window from a very high altitude. He saw the land mass of what looked like Africa a hundred miles below move past at a snail’s pace.
“Ms. Sinclair, is that Africa down there?” Ryan asked over his intercom.
“Correct, Ryan,” replied Maggie looking up and seeing an orange helmeted white spacesuit floating a few feet above her, and she smiled and waved. “You can just see the Sahara desert. As usual that is the area with no clouds. Above the clear area, the clouded area is the Mediterranean. Then you can see a long white streak further north, that is the Alps, just to the left of the cloudy area.”
