America One - The Launch

by T I WADE

  Unfortunately, many observers around the world worried that NASA wasn’t right, and it was possible that the fourth of the asteroids could miss the moon. Many others, including the Chinese Space Authority were worried about their brand new space station; within hours the first three of several modules had joined together and their six crewmen aboard were readying the station for new arrivals in January. The station was at full thrust, working to get out of low-earth orbit, the danger zone for any possible collisions.

  The Russians didn’t have any craft to worry about, nor did the Europeans, but Martin Brusk did. He had a supply ship heading to the ISS the next day and his supply freighter needed to climb a hundred miles higher to reach the station. Martin Brusk had a quiet Christmas with family knowing that his unmanned supply vehicle would be reaching its uppermost fuel limits to reach the ISS.

  The first and the fourth rocks, A and D, still had a small likelihood of bouncing off the moon’s surface, or narrowly missing the moon. If they missed, the more powerful pull of Earth’s gravity could change their direction to head straight towards the larger planet.

  As usual the airfield partied. Only the government and NASA were not enjoying life, worrying what to do to protect the country.

  For several hours, the president conducted meeting after meeting with his military advisors and research scientists from all over the country trying to determine the risk. The military wanted to nuke any asteroids passing the moon directly and not risk a near blast to throw them off course. Where was the fun in that? The president signed off on this. He then warned all the world’s countries of his country’s intentions and in the last meeting of the day, General Mortimer, Tom Ward, Hal McNealy, Joe Bishop and a few Congressmen met to discuss Astermine and Ryan Richmond.

  ****

  Approximately 294,000 miles away, the four sections of DX2014 moved silently towards earth. The moon was slowing pulling them in, gently turning their paths to direct themselves onto its 2,100-mile wide open surface.

  DX2014B still gleamed in the faint sunlight, just as it had done when Jonesy, VIN and Maggie were floating around it. If VIN could see the asteroid’s surface, he would see the rest of the glistening stones, thousands of them that he and the two spacecraft had missed. The diamonds had been attracted back to the asteroid’s surface. The vein Jonesy had seen was now much smaller, many of the bright stones had already been dislodged, but there was still a river of fire.

  If an astronaut were on the surface of DX2014B, he would be able to see the other three parts of the asteroid. The front nose of the original rock was a couple of hundred miles to one side of DX2014B, a small speck the size of a large bright star. The other two were on the other side, also specks in the distance, a distance that over time had decreased to where all four were just visible to the human eye.

  The four rocks moved silently towards the path of the moon, now only fifteen hours in front of them, and all four felt the pull of big brother.

  Chapter 18

  Air Force One.

  Early the next morning, twelve hours after the Christmas party, things got back to normal on the airfield; the four C-5 engines were waking up the entire crew.

  Ryan was pleased that the customs officials had been allowed to return to their families for Christmas, their accommodations empty and unlit as the C-5 rushed over them at 180 feet with SB III inside.

  Today’s load was close to four tons of topsoil in twenty-four silver canisters loaded together in pyramids of six for transfer into Asterspace III.

  Ryan really wanted to be in the shuttle, but its two passenger seats were empty and the extra available weight was used in the cargo bay with 400 pounds of pre-programmed computer equipment, electrical systems and instrumentation for America One’s Bridge.

  He was extremely happy that he wasn’t aboard when, sitting in ground control enjoying a cup of coffee, the airfield’s civilian radios came to life. It wasn’t Bill Mathews or Jonesy on the radio.

  “Astermine Airfield, this is Air Force One. We are 100 miles east of you and requesting landing instructions for your airfield. Over.”

  Ryan immediately got on the phone to Joe Downs in Las Vegas informing him that he was about to receive important visitors. Joe, half-awake, told him that they would be there in thirty minutes and that it better be somebody of importance. He also thanked Ryan for the tip and said he would call the other stations as soon as they were airborne. Ryan told Joe and his crew to record the sky above them in a few minutes, as his shuttle was launching. Then Ryan replied to the radio call.

  “Astermine Airfield to Air Force One, Merry Christmas, wind still, temperature 28 degrees, recommend that you come straight in from the east on Runway 09.”

  “Astermine Airfield, this is Air Force One, roger that, ETA twelve minutes. What is the traffic we see in your restricted area? Over?”

  “Air Force One, we have one Charlie Five at 32,000 feet with our shuttle launch due out in seven minutes. You will be able to see the launch out of your port windows. We have your two aircraft on radar. Are there any other visitors expected? Charlie Five will be coming in thirty-three minutes after the launch. ”

  “Roger that, we will delay our arrival to allow your launch to evacuate your restricted area. There are two incoming Foxtrot 16s, usual air cover procedure due into your airspace in six minutes. No other expected visitors. Over.”

  “Request the number of visitors so that we can get breakfast and hot coffee ready, and the visitor’s length of stay.”

  “Two aircraft, ten passengers, estimated time for departure, two hours after arrival. Out.”

  Ryan hoped that was the total number of people on board both aircraft. He woke up his complete security personnel and told Lieutenant Walls that they needed to be dressed accordingly to receive Air Force One. They scrambled to get ready.

  Ryan gave orders for a breakfast for two dozen with coffee to be delivered to Hangar One and gave out an intercom warning to secure all necessary documents and equipment; they were going to have visitors. Then he picked up his handheld radio, threw on a warm jacket, picked up a hat and a pair of gloves, and went outside.

  The sun still wasn’t up, but a sliver of light could be seen in the cloudless sky to the east.

  “Altitude 49,000 feet…..leveling out……heading into dive, temperature minus 29 degrees, Jonesy.” Ryan heard Bob Mathews in the Dead Chicken over their private channel.

  “Roger that, you should get at least a hundred feet higher on this run, Bob; the temperature is 6 degrees cooler than last run.” Ryan heard his chief pilot respond.

  “I’ll work on it for you, Mr. Jones, heading down….47,000 …..45,000…”

  Ryan was sure that the two incoming 747s had radio men aboard searching to find his private channel. His aircraft above had its second radio naturally tuned to the regular channel and would have heard the conversation between Ryan and the incoming visitors.

  On schedule, the sky to the south of him far above lit up as SB III’s first stage rockets ignited. Even at 50,000 feet the sudden white light lit up a large area of blackness. He could not see the C-5 or the shuttle at this high altitude, but Ryan and the incoming visitors would easily see the first-stage rockets when they ignited. Seconds later as the pre-dawn’s light illuminated the eastern horizon, two silent black shapes could be seen just over the mountains to the south as two air force jets approached the runway. They swooped over at less than 1,000 feet and nosily rose vertically to begin circling. Ryan looked over to the brightening horizon and saw the first large silhouette of a Boeing 747 several miles away on final approach.

  As the minutes passed, the light from the rocket motors decreased in size as they headed eastwards and finally disappeared as the first 747 was about to touch down on the brightly lit runway. Ryan could now see the second 747 a couple of miles behind the first one.

  Air Force One and its sister aircraft were beautiful. They weren’t larger than the C-5, so didn’t look any more magnificent as the first one
trundled down the runway. The pilot braked hard and well enough to use half of the runway and Ryan watched as his apron controller walked out with lit batons to guide the first aircraft to its position.

  The second one came in and performed the exact same procedure as his security personnel ran on to the apron, formed two lines, and stood at attention. He didn’t have a red carpet, never thinking that he would need it.

  Jonesy came over the radio that they were about to go into orbit, and had the visitors arrived yet? Ryan stated that they had, and told Bob Mathews to land the C-5 as usual. The two 747s would take up half of the other side of the apron.

  The second 747 was brought to a stop as the only set of aircraft steps Ryan had, for the C-5, was towed out by the tractor. They could be extended to reach the door of the 747, and the driver of the tractor waited until the rear door of the first aircraft opened and he was signaled to bring the steps over.

  Ryan told the guards to stay where they were, he certainly didn’t want to scare the Secret Service, or any military protecting the President.

  Allen Saunders caught up with him, and so did Bill Withers as he walked across the apron to welcome the president.

  As soon as the steps reached the aircraft a dozen secret servicemen, rushed down, weapons drawn, and made a large perimeter around where the visitors would disembark.

  Ryan wasn’t surprised when General Mortimer was the first out of the door, followed by Congressman Dickens, then Tom Ward and Joe Bishop. After them, came the new Administrator of NASA with Martin Brusk and finally, the president himself.

  Astermine’s boss had banned Bishop from the airfield on his last visit, and was unhappy that the ill-mannered man had returned.

  The men stood by the bottom of the aircraft to allow the president to walk in front of them to greet Ryan.

  “Merry Christmas, Ryan,” smiled the black coated president shaking Ryan’s hand. “Since it is the day after Christmas and we have these asteroids about to hit the moon, I thought it a good time to accept your invitation and pay you a visit.” A uniformed military pilot came down the steps and whispered to General Mortimer, who whispered in the president’s ear. “We have a helicopter approaching your airspace. Are you expecting visitors?”

  “Yes, our local Las Vegas CBS team who wanted to take footage of the Christmas launch; I had invited them in for breakfast before I knew you were coming. Do you mind if they join us, Mr. President?”

  “No, I don’t think I mind. We are here to sort out this asteroid business, and I think it a good idea for the public to see that Hal McNealy and I are discussing the possible threats these asteroids might put us in.”

  Before Ryan could complain to the president about Joe Bishop, the president asked Tom Ward and Joe Bishop to stay inside the aircraft. He, Congressman Dickens, General Mortimer and Hal McNealy could take it from there.

  Ryan smiled at this move. The president didn’t want the media to find “all the kings men” in one place.

  Ryan was introduced to the president’s men and they shook hands.

  Mr. President, you know Bill Withers, and this is General Allen Saunders, retired USAF,” said Ryan introducing the two men in civilian dress next to him.

  “Yes, Bill, good to see you again. No hard feelings about me moving you on?” the president smiled his election smile.

  “Of course not, Mr. President,” smiled Bill back. “It is far more interesting working here at Astermine, a lot more going on.”

  “General Saunders, you were in charge at Nellis if I remember correctly?” the president asked.

  “Correct, Mr. President, for seven years. You passed through often while I was in command,” Allen replied shaking the president’s hand.

  They proceeded over to Hangar One, three secret servicemen staying closely around the president. The two F-16s could be heard at altitude overhead, and Ryan was sure that he could hear the rotors of an approaching helicopter. He spoke into his handheld telling his crew to place the chopper on the opposite side of the apron to the two 747s and to leave the usual space for the C-5.

  Before the group entered Hangar One, they paused as the president wanted to look around the apron and at all the large hangars around it.

  “I see you are dismantling a hangar, Ryan. Any particular reason?”

  “Due to our spacecraft being complete, we don’t need the construction hangars anymore. We have three hangars that have no further use, and I was going to dismantle them and get ready for their move to Florida.”

  “Do you have one of your shuttle craft we can see? You have two don’t you, and one has just left for space?”

  “Yes, Mr. President. One is being refueled at the moment. It is being loaded with solid rocket fuel, so I don’t know how close you want to get to it. I can always get the front door of the hangar open so you can see it.”

  “That would be close enough, or the agents will go crazy. I’m looking forward to seeing your command center, where you control your flights into orbit.”

  Ryan led the way into Hangar One. His ground control team stood up as the president entered.

  “You guys do what you have to do,” said the president, acknowledging their standing up for him. “Merry Christmas, you have craft in space and I’m sure you need to track them. Ryan what are we seeing on the screen in front of the room?”

  Ryan’s eyes checked the screen over. There weren’t as many dots lighting up the large screen as there usually were. Seven lights were not lit, hiding the craft Ryan didn’t want seen.

  “The blue dot is the International Space Station,” began Ryan. “The second blue dot is Martin’s supply freighter heading up to the space station. The ISS is currently over Africa and Martin’s craft over the southern Atlantic, 1,000 miles behind and still 100 miles below the rising space station. Over the Pacific, the orange stationary light is Ivan, our new space station salvaged from the Russian Space Authority. We finally got her up to a geostationary satellite orbit and she is doing nothing up there at 22,500 miles, a small target for the incoming asteroids. The red dot is the new Chinese satellite over the West Coast of the U.S. at 265 miles altitude and she is also climbing. Over Africa are both the Russian and European satellites launched into orbit a few days ago.”

  “At 290 miles above earth, those craft can fly that high?” Hal noticed looking at the altitude of the two craft joined together on the large screen.

  “They are presently connected up to our unmanned mining craft and are being taken up to our new space station by the mining craft’s liquid-hydrogen thrusters. All three craft are locked together,” Ryan replied. Hal looked at him puzzled.

  “Is that the reason why they were both sent up so close together?” Hal asked. Ryan nodded.

  “We have heard nothing from the Russians, but the Europeans stated that their freighter is for you. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, Mr. President, so that I can speed up and get this project complete by January 15th. Each of the European freighters already sent have an eight-ton supply of liquid hydrogen rocket fuel I want to get based up next to Ivan. The Russian modules each have a ton of distilled drinking water and a ton of liquid xenon gas, also going to Ivan.

  “Can they survive such a height locked onto your mining craft? Both were built to only reach the International Space Station, were they not?”

  “Correct again, Mr. President. Our unmanned mining craft did lock onto them, like it did Ivan and can haul them up there. It doesn’t matter what height they are in space; I’ve been told they can survive and remain in good condition for several years. Astermine doesn’t throw anything away. I want to use the old Russian Space Station as a refueling depot, once we have some sort of ion drives, or hydrogen thrusters built for her so that she can return to a lower altitude and resupply our shuttles if or when needed,” Ryan replied. “That is Bill Withers’ project at the moment; to build a gas station in space.”

  “Hal, how would this project help NASA?’ the president asked.

  �
��It would hold important reserves for supplying future craft with fuel and anything else they need up there, so our craft don’t have to reenter so often.”

  “Is this how you keep your unmanned mining craft up there?”

  “Correct, Mr. President,” replied Ryan. “I contracted with the Russians and Europeans to supply my craft for future missions to go mining.”

  “How did you get the Russians to supply you with their small craft?” the president then asked Ryan.

  “Simple, Martin and Earth-Exit are now supplying the ISS, and have the new contract with NASA. That leaves the other space authorities without cargos, apart from their own to the ISS, so they needed cargos; I made a deal with both agencies at a very reasonable price.”

  “Sounds logical Ryan, it’s your money. Actually Earth-Exit, beginning January 1st is NASA, and Martin here will be working directly with Hal McNealy,” added the president looking back at the board. “And I assume that the green light is your shuttle we just saw launch into space?”

  “Yes, Mr. President. She is currently over western China, 1,500 miles north of the ISS and climbing through 390,000 feet.”

  “Can your shuttle go higher than the ISS? Can she orbit that high?”

  “Yes, she has been designed go as high as the Russian space station, once her low orbital tests are complete.”

  “So why are you playing around in these low altitude orbits flight after flight? It must be costing you a fortune in gas.”

  “To get ready for taking radioactive waste into space,” Ryan replied. “We have our first model ready for testing on our next flight. It weighs one ton and can carry three tons of waste into space. Do you want to see it? I will have it transported out of its hangar and onto our apron if you are interested.”

  “Sure, we can see it on the way out,” the president replied.