by T I WADE
“No, I didn’t know that,” replied Ryan to Jonesy.
“That’s why she’ll climb over the 50,000 foot altitude barrier. From 1986 to 89, they were designing the VC-25 model engines for the new VC-25 model Air Force One at Boeing, the two current Air Force model 747s. General Electric designed sixteen of these VC-25 engines for testing, and it was the final engine accepted for the new presidential aircraft. Actually they made twenty, just in case; the Air Force heard about the extra set of four, and got them placed here on the Dead Chicken. She sure can’t out-fly Air Force One, but she can climb like her. One of the major characteristics of the engines to be chosen for VC-25 was rate of climb and altitude flight. The faster the engines could climb the president out of trouble, for example taking off from Kabul or Baghdad, the more chance the manufacturer had to clinch the deal.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jones; you have just earned your first flight pay. How many Air Force people know this information?” Ryan asked.
“I think me and a couple of other test pilots, her current, and a long list of teams of mechanics, the guys who designed her upgrades, and a few at General Electric; I reckon eighty percent of all of them, including me, are now retired. Not many.”
For the rest of the early hours of Monday night, Ryan and Jonesy discussed the Dead Chicken. Captain Pitt was asked to return to the aircraft, the aircraft’s outside security guard bringing him back. Pitt was asked to sign a new document of secrecy, which he did, and was also sworn to secrecy by Jonesy, who offered to teach him to fly as well as he could, and the second member of the flight crew became part of the inner circle; he and VIN sat around in the flight engineer chairs and listened to the conversation from the pilot’s seats.
During this time the aircraft was turned around by the tractor, pushed into the hangar, the doors closed, and they were left alone in the cockpit still discussing flying.
The rest of the tour was put off until the next morning. The men hadn’t even been told where they were sleeping; but they would get used to Ryan Richmond, he worked like this every day.
Chapter 7
Training and Deployment
At 6:15 a.m. Tuesday, the next morning, the two men were awakened in their new rooms in the three-story hotel by a buzzer going through the whole building. They had been shown to their rooms by security just after midnight, when they had ended the aircraft cockpit meeting.
Ryan had not discussed any more of the mission apart from the atmospheric flight procedures. Most of the time Ryan and Jonesy talked while VIN and Michael Pitt, the co-pilot, listened. Dinner and soft drinks were brought into the aircraft by a soldier at about nine and the hungry group devoured the burgers and fries and drank the several cans of juice.
Their single apartments were much like long-term hotel rooms, each with a bedroom with a double bed, a bathroom and a small open-plan lounge and kitchen. The refrigerator was stocked with everything but alcohol. Their bags and clothes from the car had been neatly placed on the beds, but the bottles of beer had disappeared. Something VIN thought would not go down well with his older partner.
He still didn’t know what he had been employed for, but he was sure that it had to do with the extremely pretty blonde he had noticed in the wheelchair. He bet himself that he would know her name by the end of the day. VIN was excited to be in such a weird, but important, and puzzling project.
To VIN, Ryan seemed far ahead in his attempt to be the first private company into space, after what he had seen and read in the newspapers about the race. Few papers had mentioned this newest company’s entrance.
On the way to their rooms they were told breakfast was a buffet system downstairs; dinner was in their refrigerators, but breakfast and lunch would be in the foyer, just like a hotel.
VIN was shocked to see that dozens of mothers and children were also eating breakfast, and the kids even had school backpacks, and looked like they were really going to school.
“I wonder if there is a yellow school bus outside,” VIN asked, getting no response from Jonesy.
They ate quickly and heard their names called out by a security person as they drank coffee, mistakenly thinking that they could sit there and relax for a while.
They were escorted to just inside the small side entrance of the first hangar and were asked not to move. They stood around and examined the space. Jonesy realized and told VIN that this hangar was doubled-sided, much like a hangar within a hangar. Having noticed the weird looking engines or electronic motors being put together in the hangar, he understood the construction was to prevent spying by any external military apparatus.
“Good morning, Mr. Jones, Mr. Noble. Let’s continue our tour,” a smiling Ryan greeted them, looking fresh and wide-awake as he walked up and shook their hands. “Slept well, I hope, and ready to fill your brains with matter? These are ion thrusters, a form of space propulsion Mr. Jones. You, Mr. Noble, and our complete pilot crew once we have them all together, will learn how to operate all our new craft in the flight simulators being erected and completed over there,” he stated pointing to half a dozen military-type flight simulators along the side wall.
For an hour Ryan explained the workings of the new engines neither man had ever seen before. They were like small replicas of a jet engine on the C-5, but looked totally different. There were men and women in white coats working on each of the engines. Some were working on computer terminals and others were connecting parts by hand in sealed-off dust-free sections.
Then they were guided over to a larger Hangar Two, also a double-walled hangar, Jonesy noticed. Inside, large plastic-sheeted inner work areas gave the workers sterile work conditions. They were working on long flat body panels which to VIN looked as shiny as the bodywork of the Audis, when not in dusty desert conditions. Some of the panels were laid separately on long tables inside the plastic compartments; the panels appeared to be about ten feet wide and forty feet long.
“We can’t enter the dust-free environment,” Ryan explained. “These panels have been specially built by the best aluminum company in the country for this project. The process starts with a reinforced outer panel which comes to us out of a plant in Silicon Valley, lying face down. The shiny aluminum is half an inch thick, and composed of a light-weight aluminum-lithium alloy, with added elements of small amounts of cobalt, vanadium, silicon, tungsten, boron and lastly, titanium, for strength. This alloy is similar to the outer skin used in NASA’s most recent, and now retired, space shuttle. If this were a steel panel, it would weigh many tons. Our configuration weighs only a quarter of a ton. The panel is exactly ten feet wide and forty feet long, and will fit exactly into the cargo holds of all our spacecraft. Mr. Noble, you look a little lost? This alloy panel with all of its added elements is the outer skin of a space craft. Every space craft we manufacture here will be made out of these panels.”
“Sure must cost a lot,” suggested VIN.
“Correct, Mr. Noble, and that’s why I’m paying you so little. Each completed outer panel will cost just over one million dollars, or about nine Audi R8s.”
VIN whistled. “But you must have over 100 panels here,” he calculated in shock.
“Correct, and we have ten more panels arriving every fourteen days.”
“And this panel keeps out the cosmic radiation?” asked Jonesy.
“No, this panel is just the first barrier against EMPs, powerful Electric Magnetic Pulses produced by sun flares in deep space, Mr. Jones.” They then followed the quick walking Ryan.
“Over here,” Ryan added heading over to the next section which had a second group of white-coated scientists adding a second skin to one of the panels. “Over here, we are adding a tenth-of-an-inch thin layer of pure carbon graphite to the panel’s inside wall. This carbon graphite layer is placed on the inside of the panel and then heated in our massive vacuum-oven over there to bond the two materials together. Once that is done we add a one-inch, honeycombed carbon nanotube structure, intertwined with a carbon composite layer, much stronger
than the Kevlar fabric used in body armor. This honeycombed structure, Mr. Jones, is to protect us from cosmic radiation. Then, a second layer of the same carbon graphite is grafted on to the inside of a honeycombed structure to seal it. Once the panel is ready, liquid hydrogen will be poured into the honeycombed structure under pressure and then sealed. Pure liquid hydrogen is the best protection against cosmic rays that we know of as scientists.
“Our second backup protection from cosmic radiation will be large 200-pound electromagnets made mostly with a powerful rare-earth magnetic material called neodymium. The magnets will be placed throughout any spacecraft we build. This powerful force will give the craft a small magnetic field to help repel cosmic rays, and a small gravity field that is about fifteen to twenty percent of what we are used to on earth. This field will help crops grow in space, give us the ability walk around with metal shoes, and eat dinner on metal plates with metal knives and forks. Get the picture?” Both men nodded.
They moved onto the second half of the massive hangar. “In this section we are now adding the semi-final layer to the inside of the panels. This layer will keep any internal heat from dissipating into space. For this we add a second honeycombed carbon nanotube structure intertwined with the same carbon composite layer. Instead of liquid hydrogen, we add liquid argon, which, if kept in a cold state is too dense to accept any heat. This means that any heat will be repelled by cold liquid argon, once in space, when it attempts to warm the liquid. Our tests show that it will be cold enough stay liquid from a combination of the cold liquid hydrogen, which in turn is kept in a cold liquid state by the coldness of space, plus a little help from a nuclear reactor.
“The scientists who designed these outer walls state that this protective wall will keep space travelers protected and warm for upwards of a century, provided we are not too close to radiation coming directly from the sun. The cold liquid gases will be added, then the entire panel is sealed in a special chamber over there,” he stated, pointing to the large window of a separate room with what looked like it had a cattle dip in the floor.
“And all this is just to win this little space race into orbit?” asked Jonesy in awe.
“And a bit more space travel, but I will explain a little more in Hangar Four,” smiled Ryan. “The last covering, like the soft inside wall of a commercial airline, will be sealed onto the inner wall of each panel. It is a soft-wall material made out of three inches of soft carbon nanofoam, which can be painted for habitation, or can act as a giant vegetable garden allowing plant growth on its exterior. In space we will be able to grow vegetables on all six walls of a cubed greenhouse.”
“A wall to grow plants on?” VIN asked. “Are you going to fund the project by growing marijuana up in space?”
“A good idea I never thought of!” replied Ryan chuckling at the comment.
“At the end of the production line over here,” Ryan added, arriving at the end of the hangar, “we have a one-foot thick, finished panel with its inner wall intact. Eight complete panels are programmed to be lifted up into orbit on one shuttle launch, and then the panels will be welded, or bonded together by robotic spiders. As you can see there are no windows, but there are 8-foot square sliding doors on a few, and open round holes which will have Russian Docking Ports added to the panel in space; one in every couple of dozen panels. Lastly, each outer panel wall will receive a covering of a silver silicon-plastic-like photovoltaic nanofilm paint an inch thick for solar-energy absorption. Solar energy will be wirelessly transmitted across each panel to an internal storage unit somewhere inside each craft.” Ryan, paused, noticing the two men’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. He could see that he was now going over the heads of the two men’s scientific intelligence. “Some of these panels will be shaped, bent, formed, and cut into the outer, and inner shuttle walls, and the walls of the spacecraft you will be flying Mr. Jones. Let’s go to Hangar Three.”
“What are those oval aluminum cylinders for over there?” Jonesy asked.
“Corridors, sleep centers, compartments, and storage units, that’s all,” replied Ryan curtly not wanting to go any further at the moment.
“Looks like we heading to Mars, kid,” added Jonesy, following the boss back across the hangar to exit the way they had come in. VIN was getting apprehensive, knowing that they were getting closer to his department in Hangar Five, whatever that was.
For another hour in Hangar Three, they went over atmospheric flight possibilities with the massive C-5 staring down at them. Ryan questioned Jonesy to make sure that his own launch ideas were agreeable with somebody who understood flight. Then it was time for Hangar Four.
For the first time, Jonesy and VIN realized why there was so much equipment. As they entered the different world of Hangar Four, he could see the same type of vehicles he had seen on television, on Mars. There were several machines cutting and drilling into rocks or, much like vacuum cleaners, sweeping up rocks. Both men suddenly realized that the desert surrounding the airfield looked just like those Curiosity pictures from Mars.
“You are going to Mars to mine for gold or platinum?” Jonesy asked. “Not grass, like the kid said earlier.”
“Pretty close, Mr. Jones, valuable precious metals which will pay for the project when my three billion runs out.”
“Three billion dollars!” whistled VIN. “Now that’s a lot of cash. I bet you haven’t figured out how many R8s that is, Mr. Richmond.” Within a second Ryan had an answer.
“Not yet, but it would purchase over 25,000 units of my model, with extras, and far higher a number than Audi might ever build, Mr. Noble. And what could a man do with more than one Audi? Think about it, young man, you have a car ninety-nine percent of the world only dreams about.”
Up to lunch, they viewed the scientists working with the several different models. Some were not so exciting. VIN noticed that the least interesting one looked like a mobile floor sweeper on a dog leash. It buzzed around, its electronic engine following a blinking light omitting a red laser type light. The light bounced around on several different small pebbles, decided on the right size pebbles, and then swept them up with brushes and spat them out of a tube connected to the upper body. It took a stone several seconds to be swept in and spat out.
“That is not a vacuum cleaner, Mr. Noble,” explained Ryan. “It works with a conveyer belt, sweeping the small rocks up into a small holding bucket, and out of the higher exit tube into a collector; much like a river dredger with a continuous bucket conveyor belt.”
VIN watched as it found a bigger rock, this time the size of a marble. It effortlessly swept it in and it dumped it with a loud noise into the container.
Then a buzzer sounded; VIN now had to get through lunch before getting to Hangar Five, the hangar where he would find out what his real purpose was.
They returned to the hotel for lunch on the ground floor. This time all the kids must have been in school as there were mostly people in white coats, security uniforms, and a few others in normal dress. About 100 people in all having a buffet lunch. The food was much like at base camp in Iraq. One or two meats, potatoes or rice, two vegetables, gravy, a couple of dessert puddings, a fruit bowl, a sponge cake, and tea and juice.
VIN realized that these workers must be less than half the people on base, and many must be having lunch in their sterile areas. Also half of the base was asleep, the night shift. Ryan was not among the diners.
Lunch was peaceful. Jonesy said nothing, and very few people spoke; all seemed deep in thought, or working over ideas in their minds. Only the white coats and normally dressed females, or the odd male talked to each other, and in many languages.
Finally the buzzer sounded and, as one, the room emptied and the two men returned to the golf cart where Ryan had left it. They waited several minutes before he arrived, followed by a couple of the white coats.
“Mr. Noble, time to introduce you to your new world,” he smiled at them. They got in and drove the few hundred yards to one of the middle ha
ngars in the line of five on the eastern side of the large apron.
“This time there was no guard outside the small side door; Ryan entered a code into a panel, and they entered a world VIN remembered from the hospital. A world full of prosthetic limbs, but this time made of metal and not plastic.
“Ask for platinum ones,” stated Jonesy as they walked up to an area that looked like a stage, where the pretty blonde girl who VIN had seen in the wheelchair was being helped to dress in what looked like an exoskeleton suit of lower body parts.
She smiled, as the three tall men arrived and stopped. “How are the new fittings, Suzi?” Ryan asked still sitting in the cart.
“Wűndabar, wonderful, Ryan,” she replied in a German accent. “I think that they might stay on this time when I jump high.”
VIN watched in shock. Jonesy had to close the poor kid’s mouth, afraid a fly might go in.
“Ja, Herr Noble, one second a lonely paraplegic in a wheelchair, next second, Superfraülein!” she shouted seeing VIN’s face, and she began laughing, her pretty blonde hair and blue-eyed face lighting up, and stealing VIN’s heart in less than a second. “Want to join me?”
He nodded silently, his mouth still open as she stood up out of the chair she was sitting in, and easily walked across the stage holding out her hand to him.
“Kid, remember to invite me to the wedding,” stated Jonesy standing next to him. ”She’s a great looking chick, and silver seems to suit her. Maybe she’ll turn into one of your silver Audis at the touch of a button! You know like the Transformers.”
“Oh shut up for once, Jonesy!” VIN replied, as he took her hand and climbed up onto the stage to follow her. She led him to the chair as a second metal body skeleton walked by itself out of an area hidden behind curtains. This time a white coat had a hand-controlled devise, like a model aircraft, and he moved the metal frame next to the chair.
