Jeff sat back, closed his eyes and tried to picture the group. What did they look like? How did they interact? Who was sitting across the table from him at a brainstorming session? Who was in the chair beside him in a command module atop an Atlas V during those last seconds of countdown, anticipating a million pounds of thrust and a launch into oblivion? And most importantly, if things went wrong, who’s might be the last face he would ever see? Now there was interesting question. Seeing as how he apparently had the choice, whom might he want beside him at the end? Philosophically it might not matter much at that point, and it was not a subject he really wanted to dwell on. Still, it was something to think about.
He sat up and stared at the ocean with a sudden curious realization: all the faces that appeared to him belonged to women. “Hmmm, that’s interesting.” Was this some kind of Freudian subconscious thing brought about by his past two years of solitude and celibacy following Marsha’s passing? Or was his brain just trying to tell him that he might just get along better with women? There was no reason why a woman couldn’t do the job just as well as a man. There were plenty of women in NASA’s astronaut corps, many having flown shuttle missions, even commanding some. There had even been a few in ISS crews. But an all-female crew? That could be a little strange. Still, Jeff thought, if that’s what his gut was telling him, he ought to at least give the matter serious consideration.
He decided against the conventional recruitment routes – want ads, headhunters, industry rags – and instead thought he’d do his own headhunting, go to the source and try to expedite the process. Jeff wasn’t interested in “seasoned” professionals; they’d just bring a lot of establishment baggage, and probably fight him every inch of the way. He wanted younger folks, those that had the necessary knowledge but wanted to break boundaries and push the edge of the envelope. Jeff thought of grad students, doctoral candidates, medical residents, pilots fresh out of the service – people on the cusp, just starting out or anew, willing to accept a big risk for a big gain. He thought about it for a moment and jotted down three notes: “Caltech,” “space medicine website,” and “charter business jets.”
CHAPTER 3
Monday, May 28, 2012 (T minus 1394 days)
“Good morning, Dr. Vlohakis. Thank you very much for taking the time to see me.”
Dr. Bernard Vlohakis was the Theodore von Kármán Professor of Aeronautics and Mechanical Engineering at the California Institute of Technology, better known as Caltech, and Chairman of the Division of Engineering and Applied Science.
“My pleasure, Mr. Grey. Please, have a seat. I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with your firm. What is your particular involvement in the industry?”
Jeff grinned a bit sheepishly, “We’re a very new startup that’s still flying well under the radar. Our specific interest is in the application of existing, tested, and proven technology for use in deep space travel. What we hope to do is develop concrete, workable solutions for the many challenges of space travel without the necessity of having to invent something. In other words, we hope to address various space travel problems with solutions available today, not ten, twenty or fifty years from now. Essentially, we’re looking to expedite the process and, in so doing, reduce the cost. I want to apply what we know, not what we don’t know.”
“That’s an interesting challenge. Particularly since so much of the aerospace industry survives on research and development, advancing the science in seeking new solutions. What can I do for you Mr. Grey?”
“I’m looking for an engineer; aeronautics, aerospace, applied mechanics, physics, etc. Someone young, doctoral, post-doctoral, maybe a bit rebellious, understands the problems and the mechanics but willing to think outside the box, is good with propulsion systems, someone who likes a challenge, and someone who will be available very soon.”
Dr. Vlohakis sat scratching his chin for a moment. “Hmmm. We do have several students here that may well be the type of individual you’re looking for. However, most in fact are already employed, or at least committed. Ah, yes. There is one that prominently comes to mind. She is a doctoral candidate in aeronautics and applied physics, and will be graduating this term. She is certainly familiar with propulsion, though her thesis involves some rather advanced plasma drive theory. Very bright, very intelligent young lady, and subtlety is definitely not her strong suit. Gabriel Frederick. You could check with the graduate secretary in Guggenheim, just across the mall, to see if she’s on campus today, or leave a message for her. As I said, there are probably others but…” pausing to chuckle, “I think Ms. Frederick might be just who you’re looking for. You should speak to her first.”
#
“May I help you?”
As buildings go, Caltech’s Guggenheim Laboratory was less than impressive. Still, Jeff figured one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Clearly some of the world’s finest minds were wandering around here and he was out to find one.
“Yes,” handing the secretary his business card, “I’m looking for a graduate student, Gabriel Frederick. Dr. Vlohakis pointed me in her direction.”
“Just a moment, let me see if she’s on campus today.” The secretary keyed a couple of strokes on her computer keyboard, “Yes, she should be over in Firestone. Let me give her a call and see if she’s available.” She picked up the phone and dialed, “Gabriel? Hi, Roberta, there is a Mr. Jeffrey Grey of Grey Aerospace here to see you. Dr. Vlohakis recommended you to him… No, I don’t know… Alright, I’ll send him over.”
Roberta hung up and turned back to Jeff, “She’s in the Firestone Lab, just across the walk there, room 108,” motioning toward a slightly more upscale structure.
“Thank you.” Jeff smiled appreciatively at the secretary, picked up his briefcase, turned and walked out the door. Where the Guggenheim Lab looked rather like a 1960’s vintage apartment building, the Firestone Lab appeared more like a prison, with its narrow multi-story vertically barred windows. But it looked newer. The California Institute of Technology, one of the world’s highest institutes of learning; Jeff half expected it to look like something out of Star Wars, but it was really rather plain. He walked down the corridor, finding room 108, knocked, opened the door a few inches and stuck his head in, “Gabriel Frederick?”
The head of a young, blond-haired women popped up from a cubicle divider, “Yes?”
Jeff opened the door and stepped in. “Hi, Jeffrey Grey.”
“Oh, hi. Yes, please come in.” She quickly walked around the cubicle with her hand extended toward Jeff. Her grip was firm, for a young lady. Clearly, she wasn’t bashful. Very tall, around six feet Jeff guessed, slender, flaxen hair in a ponytail that hung to her waist, oval gold-rimmed glasses framing cerulean eyes, blue jeans, and a bright orange sweatshirt with “CALTECH” emblazoned on the front. Jeff momentarily wondered if perhaps he’d accidentally stumbled into the dance department. She sure didn’t fit his mental image of a doctoral candidate in aeronautics and applied physics.
“What can I do for you?”
“Well Ms. Frederick, you come highly recommended by Dr. Vlohakis and I’d like to talk to you about a job.”
Her eyes widened, “Really? Wow. Okay.” She motioned to a small round dining table in the corner, “Please pardon our sparse décor, these are grad student offices and our budget is, um, well… not.”
Jeff followed her to the table and took a seat beside her.
“Would you care for some coffee?”
“Yes, that’d be great. Thank you.”
She hopped up rather lightly and filled two styrene cups from a glass pot that looked like it hadn’t been washed since the 1970s and returned to the table. “What kind of job, Mr. Grey?”
“Please, it’s Jeff. And may I call you Gabriel?”
“Sure,” she smiled coyly, “but most people call me Gabe.”
Jeff smiled, “Gabe. I like that.” She had a husky alto voice and a pleasantly forthright demeanor. Jeff liked her right away. “I own a company, a start-up aerospace fi
rm, and I’m looking for a chief engineer.”
“Dr. Vlohakis recommended me for an aerospace engineering job?”
“Yeah.”
Gabe gave him a puzzled frown. “That’s weird. Did he recommend anyone else?”
“Nope, just you. Why? What’s so weird about it?”
“Um, well, he and I don’t get along very well. It’s a, I dunno, a personality conflict thing.”
Jeff nodded. “It happens. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t respect your talent.”
“Yeah, I suppose, but I’m… I’m not an aerospace engineer. Yes, my degree is in aeronautics but I’m really a physicist and mathematician.”
Jeff chuckled. “Close enough for government work.”
“Government work?”
“Just a figure of speech.”
“Oh, okay. Also, I don’t have any experience. I’m all academia. In fact, except for interning at JPL, I’ve never had a job. Any job.”
“Well, you have to start somewhere.”
“Yes, but honestly, I’m not even looking for a job. I was hoping to come back here in the fall for a postdoc research fellowship.”
“I see. Do you have something lined up?”
Gabe shrugged and shook her head. “No, not yet. But I’ve got some feelers out.”
Jeff nodded. “Okay Gabe, well, we’re here, perhaps you’d like to just hear me out. Who knows? Maybe I’ll say something that interests you.”
She smiled. “Alright.”
He took a sip of the coffee, it tasted as though it had also been around since the ‘70s. “Okay, but first, can you tell me just a little more about yourself?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m 25, originally from Dayton, Ohio. Went to college at Oberlin. Double degree program, music and math.”
Jeff’s eyebrows went up. “Wow. How’d that come about?”
“I started as a piano performance major, but along the way decided a career in music wasn’t what I really wanted.” She shook her head. “Life on the road, touring, hectic concert and recording schedules, or… just teaching. I dunno, none of it appealed to me.”
“I can understand that. Still, piano performance major at Oberlin? You must be pretty good. How long have you been playing?”
“My mother started teaching me when I was three.”
“Do you still play?”
“Yes, I just don’t practice very much. No time.”
“I can imagine. Why math?”
“I’ve always been pretty good at it, and it just interested me.”
“Music and math often do seem to fit together.”
“Uh huh. I really wanted applied math, but Oberlin doesn’t offer it. So I did a semester abroad in applied.”
“Really. Where?”
“Cambridge.”
Jeff stared at her in mild shock. “You studied applied mathematics at Cambridge?”
“Uh huh.”
“Did you get to meet him?”
Gabe smiled. “Once, very briefly. It’s ironic, he’s so small and frail yet a giant. He’s the Holy Grail of applied math.”
“You have met Stephen Hawking? Okay, I’m impressed, go on.”
“After Oberlin, I went to MIT for a Ph.D. in Applied Physics but, um, it just didn’t work out very well. So I dropped out of the doctoral program and settled for a masters in Nuclear Science and Engineering, with an emphasis in applied plasma physics.”
Jeff grinned. “Now there’s a mouthful. What went wrong? If you don’t mind my asking?”
“Um…” Gabe bit her lip and stared at the table.
“More personality conflicts?”
She nodded, and after a moment looked up at him. “I… I sometimes have trouble getting along with people.”
Jeff nodded and smiled. “Gabe, in the rarified atmosphere of your intellectual caliber, I don’t think that problem is particularly uncommon.”
She forced a tiny smile.
“Have you seen the film, Real Genius?”
Gabe laughed. “I think it’s my favorite movie. I love it.”
Jeff winked at her. “One of mine, too. Smart People on Ice.”
She covered her mouth, laughing. “That scene is hilarious.”
“Yeah. I think Jordan is my favorite character. Talk about hyperactive.”
“Yeah, she’s great.”
Jeff couldn’t help but think there was a lot more to Gabe than met the eye. Perhaps wound a little too tight, but also much smarter than even the academic résumé suggested. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Gabe. Being smart is not the world’s easiest job. People expect a lot more from you, and meeting those expectations takes a lot more than just being smart.”
She smiled softly. “Thank you.”
“So, from Massachusetts you moved on to sunny southern California?”
“Yes. I’ve been here for three years. And if my thesis defense goes as planned, I’ll graduate in a few weeks with a Ph.D. in aeronautics and a minor in applied physics.”
“Congratulations. Hell of an accomplishment. Tell me about your thesis.”
“It’s a theoretical investigation into the potential use of super-cooled magnets in magnetohydrodynamic plasma jets and the tradeoffs between fuel consumption, thrust and power requirements.”
Jeff smiled and nodded, congratulating himself for comprehending what she just said. “Okay. So you have an interest in propulsion systems for deep space exploration?”
“Well, they’re the next step to the stars. They’re far more powerful than ion drives and much safer than nuclear electric.”
He nodded in understanding, “Uh huh, but is your motivation theoretical or practical?”
She stared at him and raised her eyebrows curiously, “Both, I think. We’re not going to be leaving for outer space anytime soon, but it’d be nice if we had the means to get there at our disposal when the time comes. And it will come.”
“No argument there. I presume you also have a pretty good handle on chemical propulsion?”
She smiled, “Yeah, I know a bit about it. Besides all the requisite book learning, I interned over at JPL doing some work on the Mars Science Lab cruise stage.”
“Ah, that could be useful.” Jeff sat back and thought for minute. Why not? She was just the kind of partner he envisioned. “Gabe, I have a great deal of money and a plan for how to spend it. And in spite of your concerns, I think you’re just the kind of person I’m looking for.”
Gabe brushed her bangs back while tilting her head and staring at him quizzically. “Well, I’m flattered but… What exactly is it your company does?”
Jeff tried the coffee again. A few minutes of cooling had not helped. He leaned back in the chair and held his breath; now came the awkward part. After a moment, he took a deep breath, bit his lip, and answered her question. “Right now? Nothing. But it’s going to do great things. Monumental things. Things that no one has ever done before. I am financing a manned mission to Mars. The first cargo launch will go up in eighteen months and crew launch is scheduled for March 2016, a little less than four years from now.”
Gabriel sat silently, staring at him, as though her brain was trying to digest a calculus expression with a few missing symbols. Jeff gave her time to get a handle on it.
“You’re kidding,” she said, sounding more hopeful than incredulous.
“No, I’m dead serious.”
She exhaled audibly through her teeth and scratched her eyebrow, “Okay, well… look, NASA couldn’t land a man on Mars in four years, even if they wanted to…”
Jeff, cut her off. “You’re absolutely correct. No, they could not. But not because they don’t have the technology, they do. Nor is it because they don’t have the manpower, they have plenty. And it’s not because they don’t have the money, the U.S. government can raise as much money as it wants. It’s none of that. They reason they can’t do it is because they simply don’t have the will. Look, NASA is a giant government bureaucracy whose primary mission is, like all government bureaucracies,
job security, nothing more. NASA doesn’t want to go to Mars, because it’s bosses, Congress and the White House, don’t want to go to Mars because their boss, the people, also don’t want to go to Mars. At least, not right now. The days of Kennedy and ‘We choose to go to the moon in this decade’ are gone. Today Americans want cheap healthcare and iPods and social safety nets. Fine, democracy, we vote. That’s their decision. So if we are going to go to Mars – and you know as well as I that we can, the technology exists, the commercial aerospace industry is full of manpower, and I have a great deal of money, and believe I can get more – it all boils down to assembling a team of people that have the will to do it. Do that, and this can be done. Someone will do it. It’s not a question of if, only when. And I intend on being the one to do it. And I want you on my team.”
Gabriel swirled the coffee in her cup, clearly contemplating an almost endless list of questions, trying to figure out which one to ask first. “Hmmm. Okay, commercial launch, off-the-shelf hardware… the old ‘Mars Direct’ approach, something like that. Right? So, what do you need me for?”
“Because you know it’s not that simple.”
Her head snapped up, “Yes, I do. But do you?”
Jeff smiled and leaned forward resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his clasped hands, “Yeah, believe me, I know. Look, it’ll take days to go over all the details, many of which are far from being cast in stone, and I can’t possibly answer all your questions now. And in any case, if I had all the answers, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I understand your skepticism and incredulity, I get that a lot. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and give me the opportunity to show you the whole plan – the easy parts, the hard parts, and the parts for which there are no parts… yet. Come to my headquarters in Rhode Island for a couple days – all expenses paid – and let me show you what I’ve got. No obligation.”
Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) Page 6
