“I’m with you but, what about orbital insertion?”
“Patience, I’m getting to that. Then we launch – and any way you look at this, it’s going to require another launch – a Falcon 9, just to put its second stage in orbit. That can’t be done without using part of the second stage fuel, but it still leaves us more than enough fuel to trim the orbit following aerocapture, nearly a thousand meters per second of Delta-V. And, the entire mass is within TMI limitations of the EDS. Further, we can launch the F9 from Kwajalein, so we don’t have to put any additional pressure on facilities at the Cape.”
Jeff chuckled. “Excellent.”
“Now, I still need to squeeze it into the lifting body aeroshell and heat shield, but I think that can be done by simply substituting it for the two Falcon payload fairings. So, we launch all this, dock it in LEO, and send it to Mars. Then aerocapture, jettison the aeroshell and heat shield, trim the orbit, jettison the extra booster, dock, and, when the time comes, go home. Um, now one problem is that this booster doesn’t give us quite the Delta-V we need. But it’s only short by around a hundred meters per second; we can easily make that up with the SPS, and still have plenty of fuel remaining in the service module to get us home.”
He nodded. “Good job, Gabriel.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Alright, get it done.”
“Okay.”
“Um…”
“What?”
“Does it bother you at all that we may be putting too much pressure on SpaceX? We’re asking an awful lot of them. Are you at all worried that they may cut some corners to meet the commitment?”
She shook her head. “No. Their ultimate goal is twenty launches a year, ten each Heavy’s and 9’s. We’re only asking for about a quarter of that. If they can’t meet our requirements, what does that say to the rest of the industry? Frankly, I think Elon Musk is potentially looking at us for his proof of concept. I mean, if they can pull this off, they’ll be the 800-pound gorilla in the launch industry for years to come. Besides, though I’m sure there are some that don’t care whether or not the mission succeeds so long as they get paid, I don’t think anyone wants to be the cause of failure. If the mission does fail, I think most everyone would prefer seeing responsibility land on someone else’s desk. And I think that’s particularly true amongst the launchers. That is, after all, what they do; regardless of payload or destination.”
“Good points all. Well, let’s keep working on Jupiters anyway; I still think that’s our best bet.”
Gabe sighed. “Okay. I can do the engineering, Jeff, but we still need all the parts.”
“Yeah, I’m working on it.”
Chrissie suddenly burst into the room. “Come quick! You’ve got to see this!” And she ran off before Jeff and Gabe had a chance to open their mouths.
Gabe looked at Jeff, clearly startled. “What is it?”
Jeff shook his head. “I have no idea. Come on, let’s see.”
They couldn’t catch Chrissie, but near the top of the stairs heard her dashing through the great room. They trotted through the foyer, Jeff in the lead by several feet. As he reached the open great room doors he motioned to Gabe to stop, held up a finger and mouthed the word, “Wait.” He cautiously walked into the room, out of Gabe’s sight and, a moment later, stuck his hand back through the door and crooked his finger toward her, motioning her to follow him.
As Gabe’s head peaked through the door, Jeff, Abby, Susan and Chrissie yelled, “SURPRISE! Happy Birthday!”
Gabe hunched her shoulders and sheepishly smiled. “You guys remembered.”
Jeff walked up to her and gave her warm smile and a big hug. “Of course we remembered. Happy birthday.”
Chrissie grabbed her hand and half dragged her to the dining room. “Come on, we’ve got cake and ice cream and party hats…”
Abby interrupted, “And champagne.”
Gabe looked over the table. There was a birthday cake about three feet long that said, “Gabriel – Happy 26th Birthday,” and a stack of presents. She turned around to the four of them and fought back tears. “You guys are too good. Thank you.”
Abby took her arm. “Alright, alright, enough of that. Don’t get all mushy on us. Come on, let’s get drunk.”
After cake and ice cream and much champagne, Gabe sat down to the stack of presents. From Chrissie there were three pair of jeans. Gabe’s eyes glowed. “My favorite kind. And you actually found them in my size?”
Chrissie smiled. “It wasn’t easy. Happy birthday.”
From Susan came a MontBlanc pen and pencil set. “With all the writing you do, you need something better than that stuff we get at Office Depot.”
“Thank you so much. They’re beautiful.”
Tearing the paper off Abby’s gift, Gabe was met with a box labeled “Victoria’s Secret.”
Gabe grinned at the box suspiciously. “Uh oh.”
Jeff’s eyes lit up. “This could be interesting.”
Gabe opened the box and pulled out three negligees – that almost weren’t. “Oh my. They’re… beautiful. Thanks. Is there a message here?”
Abby smiled. “No. I just thought they’d look good on you.”
Jeff grinned. “Well, we’re definitely gonna need a fashion show.”
Gabe stood, held one of the negligees up to her, looked down and gasped. “Uh, in your dreams.”
“Damn.”
“Thank you Abby, they’re lovely.”
The last present was from Jeff. Gabe opened it and sat there staring at it in her hands. It was a slide rule, one of the old Keuffel & Esser mahogany Log Log Duplex Trig rules, as-new-in-box, for which he paid a handsome sum. Jeff thought it would be an amusing little joke since Gabe was about the last person on earth that needed a slide rule. She didn’t even need a calculator. Her response was not what he expected.
After a moment she began to cry. She clutched the slide rule to her bosom, looked up at Jeff and through the tears said, “It’s the nicest present anyone has ever given me.” Then she stood and just walked off, sat down on the great room floor near the piano and, like a child with a new toy, started playing with it.
Abby leaned over to Jeff and whispered, “What is she doing?”
“Probably checking its accuracy.”
“Are you sure about her? Sometimes she is so weird.”
Jeff just stood watching Gabe and said nothing.
CHAPTER 7
Thursday, October 4, 2012 (T-1265 days)
Abby came running into Jeff’s office as fast as her feet could carry her, “Boss! You gotta see this.” She grabbed the remote control off the top of Jeff’s TV, turned it on and quickly switched channels to CNN.
“… little is known about Jeffrey Grey at present. He has avoided publicity since winning the Mega Millions Lottery and his present whereabouts is unknown. Calls to his residence in Long Beach, California have so far not been returned.
“A spokesperson at NASA, when asked about Mr. Grey’s intended mission to Mars, would say only that they are unaware of any such mission. The spokesperson added, ‘It’s rather unlikely.’”
Jeff jerked up at the announcement. “Shit. Somebody spilled the beans.”
Abby groaned, “You think?”
“We turn now to Mike Williams, CNN’s NASA correspondent. Mike, what of this? Is it possible for a private individual to go to Mars?”
Gabe came running in with Susan and Chrissie hot on her heels, “Do you believe this?”
Abby shushed her.
“Well John, I suppose it’s theoretically possible, but highly unlikely. The cost and technical issues involved are simply beyond the resources of any individual. Bill Gates and Warren Buffet combined couldn’t afford it. Further, from what little we know of Jeffrey Grey, he has no aerospace experience. So, in spite of the fact this report has been confirmed by reliable sources, there is still a strong likelihood that it is merely a hoax. Just a publicity stunt.”
“Why that son o
f a bitch,” Abby snarled.
“Mike, might it be possible for someone to put together a consortium of commercial aerospace firms, each filling their specialized niche and, as a group, mount such a mission?”
“That would be a far more likely scenario, and certainly within the collective ability of the aerospace industry. On the other hand, the United States government, through the FAA, controls American airspace… all the way up. So no one would be launching such a mission without the government’s approval. Further, activities on Mars are regulated by international treaty. So, regardless of any consortium plans, the U.S. government, foreign governments, the U.N., I mean, just about everyone would want to have a say in this. One doesn’t just go to Mars because they want to. There are mountains of rules and regulations involved.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, the FAA controls U.S. airspace for the protection of the people. It’s not a real good idea to allow just anyone to launch a rocket. What if it fails? Where’s it going to come down? Downtown Manhattan? And the treaty governing Martian exploration is for the protection of both Earth and Mars. Its primary purpose is to prevent the possibility of cross-contamination by potentially hazardous bio-organisms.”
“Thank you. That was Mike Williams, CNN’s NASA correspondent, reporting from Houston. Once again, there are confirmed reports that Jeffrey Grey, the Californian who won $750 million in the Mega Millions Lottery earlier this year is organizing and funding a manned expedition to Mars, scheduled to launch in about three and a half years.”
Abby turned it off. “What do we do now?”
Jeff sat for a minute rubbing his temples. “Hmmm, that is a very good question. I’m not sure. For the moment… nothing.”
“Nothing?” Gabe questioned, eyes wide.
Jeff nodded, “Yeah, nothing. Let’s not make this any worse by jumping into the media circus unprepared. Chrissie, time to earn your keep.”
Chrissie nodded, “We knew this was just a when, not an if. I’m ready.”
“Okay. Why don’t we give it a few days for the dust to settle, talk about it and, when we’re ready, just make a simple announcement; be nonchalant, matter-of-fact. You know, news release, something like that. But let’s do it on our terms, not CNN’s.”
“Okay.”
“Look, like you said, we knew this could happen. We’d hoped that we could beat it to the punch but we didn’t. But it changes nothing.”
Abby growled. “Who do you think leaked it? Sounds like more than one. Who do I need to kill?”
Jeff smiled, “Who knows? There’s no shortage of suspects, but let’s not be making a hit list – yet. Let’s face it, there are some secrets that just can’t be kept.” Jeff thought for a moment. “Hmmm. But let’s try to avoid that angle. Why don’t we take the indifferent approach, steal the media’s thunder, leave them with no ‘scandal’ or ‘hoax’ to report. Try and keep them concentrated on the mission. Something like, ‘No, it was no big secret, we were simply going about our business making preparations. We weren’t quite ready to announce it yet but somebody leaked it. No big thing. Yeah, we’re going to Mars. What of it?’”
Chrissie nodded, “I like that.”
“Okay. Well boys and girls, the cat’s out of the bag. Let’s just make sure we look like we know what we’re doing. We’re not fools, let’s not look like it. No missteps.”
There was a chorus of, “Right,” and they began to file out.
“Sue, could you stay for a minute?”
“Sure.”
Jeff waited for the others to leave then motioned toward the door, “Would you mind closing that.” Susan closed the door. “Have a seat.”
“What’s up?”
Jeff cleared his throat. “I’m not real sure how to approach this. I’m the boss, the mission’s mine but, doctor-patient privilege, blah, blah, blah.”
Susan smiled. “Challenging minefield, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Jeff stared at her and thought for a moment. “A couple months ago Gabe mentioned some things to me about herself that…”
Susan interrupted him. “I know. She’s told me about it.”
“She has?”
“Of course, I’m her doctor.”
Jeff gave her a puzzled look. “Were you going to say anything to me about it?”
“No.”
He frowned. “Uh, why not?”
“As you said, doctor-patient privilege.”
“But…”
“Look, if I felt it would or could in any way have an adverse impact on the mission, yes, I would wake you in the middle of the night to tell you about it. But I don’t.”
Jeff rubbed the itch on his nose. “But she mentioned some pretty serious psychological issues and I think you have to agree that her behavior at times is a bit strange. Remember our first meeting? And her birthday? And the MSL landing?”
“Uh huh.”
Jeff waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “That’s it? Just, ‘uh huh’?”
“Yes.”
His patience ran out. “Susan! Can we cut the crap? Please talk to me.”
She sighed. “Sorry, I do understand.” She thought for a minute, apparently trying to balance the conflicting sides of the issue. “In Gabe’s case, there is no scientific or medical basis, so far as I know, for the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, of any variety. In my opinion, the diagnosis of cyclothymia was just a guess, and not a very good one. Whoever made it simply didn’t understand what he or she was dealing with. Certainly she exhibits signs of what some might deem to be hypomania or hyperthymia when comparing her to most people, but that’s her normal temperament. She’s simply more creative and energetic than the rest of us. So far as her mood swings are concerned, well, we all have mood swings; Gabe’s are just more exaggerated. But then, most everything she does is a little exaggerated; it’s just the way she is. If you or I demonstrated periodic mood swings involving hyperthymic temperament like Gabe’s, that would be abnormal, and might be cause for alarm. But for her, it’s normal, she’s always that way. Now, her phenomenal intellect, memory, and musical abilities would certainly suggest that she is a savant, but that’s not a disease. Gabe is simply… different from us. And perhaps not having what she has is our loss, not hers.”
“So you don’t see a need for some kind of clinical treatment or medication?”
“No. Do you really want to treat everyone that doesn’t fit into the ‘normal’ mold with pharmaceuticals or psychotherapy? Create the perfect societal ‘oneness’? After all, didn’t you hire her because of her unique abilities? Do you really want to find a ‘cure’ for that?”
Jeff rubbed his chin and stared at the desk for a minute, and then nodded. “Your point is eloquently made, as usual.”
“Jeff, Gabe is not a freak, she’s just different. I don’t know everything about her past but I’d guess that her entire life has been spent in a glass case; shown off as a trophy or exhibit or… curiosity. What she needs more than anything else is to simply belong; to be welcomed to the family as just ‘one of us’.”
Jeff nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Any time.” Susan rose and headed for the door. She paused, turned back to Jeff and smiled whimsically. “By the way, I’d give just about anything to have a mind like hers. What an incredible gift.”
Monday, October 8, 2012 (T-1261 days)
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Grey Aerospace Announces Plans for Manned Mission to Mars
Newport, Rhode Island, October 8, 2012 – Jeffrey Grey, the winner of April’s record-breaking Mega-Millions lottery, today announced that he has invested the entire sum, more than a third of a billion dollars, in a closely held corporation, Grey Aerospace, with the singular goal of launching a manned mission to Mars in four years’ time.
“The United States Government has long promoted greater interest and investment in space exploration by the commercial aerospace industry,” says Mr. Grey. “All we are doing is picking up the ball the
Government has tossed on the playing field and running with it.”
Numerous plans for manned Mars missions have been published in recent decades, by both government (NASA) and interested private parties, such as The Mars Society, founded by Dr. Robert Zubrin, author of The Case for Mars. However, owing to the cost involved – upwards of hundreds of billions of dollars – and the many years of lead-time required to develop technology and systems, no one has seriously contemplated an actual mission within any foreseeable time frame.
All of that, Mr. Grey contends, is unnecessary. “The technology to do this exists today. Commercial aerospace can send a man to Mars, it can be done now, and it doesn’t need to bankrupt the taxpayers.”
The plan calls for launching an equipment package in December 2013 and crew launch with additional systems for living on Mars in March 2016. The crew will consist of four members yet to be named and the mission is expected to last two and a half years.
Contact:
Christine Mallory
[email protected]
(401) 555-1212
Chrissie stuck her head in the kitchen as Jeff poured a cup of coffee. “Why aren’t you watching the news?” she asked, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Chrissie, in the immortal words of… somebody, I don’t need to watch the news. This morning I am the news.”
“The phones, fax machine, email, it’s all gone berserk!”
“That’s good, they’re interested.”
“But I’ll never be able to wade through it all.”
“Sure you will. Just take your time and get back to everybody in order. They’re probably used to it and don’t expect an immediate response.”
Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) Page 22
