AMERICA ONE

by T I WADE

  As usual it went off without a hitch and Maggie brought the Silver Bullet back down to the runway in pristine condition. This time Michael Pitt was co-pilot, and Bob had released the shuttle at 54,000 feet, a record for the whole team. Jonesy had co-piloted the C-5 with Bob, and they had worked together to reach the highest altitude on record.

  Jonesy, Maggie, Penny, Michael, Suzi, Ryan and VIN constantly worked in the flight simulators for the last two months, and Michael Pitt showed that he had the ability to be the fourth space pilot-in-command of a shuttle. Suzi, Ryan and VIN would be adequate co-pilots.

  The other two female pilots were happy to be in Bob’s flight team, and were not interested in a permanent job. Team C-5, as the crew were now called, were kept apart from all the other flights by working only in Hangar Three.

  The C-5 team didn’t seem to have any interest in the other goings on and were happy to get flight pay and do no more. Bob was getting on, this could be the last flying he might ever do on such a sophisticated aircraft, and he wanted to enjoy every moment. The two girl pilots had lives and families to go back to, would enjoy the balance of the lump sum payment given to them after their contract expired, and looked forward to getting back to their normal lives.

  It was now time for the first foray into space, “The Final Frontier” as Jonesy called it, and he and VIN had fourteen days to mentally prepare for their first long stay in space.

  The C-5 was checked and checked again. Silver Bullet I, which would be their transportation, was checked over by dozens of technicians. Astermine One was ready. Ryan had decided to get his mining ship into space on the first flight, a risk, but time was of the essence. Even if they couldn’t get the old satellite fired up, Jonesy and VIN could live and survive in the cramped cockpit of Silver Bullet I for the thirty days. Finally, the 400-pound explosive charge and 150 pounds of supplies were loaded into Astermine One’s cargo hold, and the first phase began to come together. The cargo was 300 pounds overweight, but the shuttle had flown with this amount of cargo. There would only be two pilots in the cockpit this time, equalizing the weight.

  “Good morning everyone,” stated Ryan during the space-flight briefing; it was the second briefing of the day, being held immediately after the atmospheric-flight briefing. “Two things. First: Mr. Jones, you and Ms. Sinclair will be instructed on a new device added to your shuttle instrument panels only yesterday. Our Russian team has a new “Cloaking Device” for you which they have been working on for a couple of years. It has been ready for a while, and they finally got it installed and working in both shuttles yesterday. Its total weight is twenty-three pounds.

  “The system is pretty simple. Any spacecraft in lower space orbit can be tracked by dozens of satellites and ground bases around the world. To make sure that you disappear with the explosion, this Cloaking Device will make it harder for these tracking systems to see you up there. Much like “Stealth Technology” all of our shuttles and spacecraft have been designed for minimum radar-tracking ability. All that happens is that a small electrical field begins pulsating and affects an area of about 100 yards around the craft. Much like a black hole, the radar can’t electronically “see” what is inside the field, or decipher anything to report, so it ignores that minute area of space. The Cloaking System can be operated permanently, without harmful effects to humans. You will have twelve hours to get yourselves to the Russian satellite, place Astermine One onto one of the docking ports, dock the shuttle onto the second docking port, and nobody should see you there once you turn the system off. On your return trip the same will happen. As Silver Bullet II turns her device on, Silver Bullet I’s device is turned off. So all the detection systems will lose one space craft and suddenly locate what it thinks is the same craft in the same location. This operation must be done within twenty miles of each other and at the same speed and altitude. Understand?” The pilots nodded.

  “Second: Mr. Mathews, Ms. Sinclair, Ms. Sullivan, and Mr. Pitt, acting as flight engineer, will be undertaking a practice flight to Europe and back forty-eight hours before the ladies are due to lift off to join Mr. Jones and Mr. Noble up in space. Ms. Sinclair, you will be returning with your cargo, the first extremely important cargo needed in space. Weather for tomorrow’s tomorrow looks perfect, that is why I picked Nevada,” continued Ryan. “I don’t think there is really any more to say except, tomorrow we start our real work; we have all trained for this, more intensively, I believe, than the Air Force ever trained you. We have the world’s best team of technicians any pilot could ask for as backup and you men are now as fit as any astronaut that has ever gone up in space. Tomorrow, I begin to fulfill my dream that started when I watched Neil Armstrong walk on the moon, actually eight years after he did so. I was born on the exact day he walked on the moon, two hours after he first stepped on the lunar surface.” There was silence in the room.

  The rest of the day was taken up by check after check. VIN’s, and Jonesy’s new spacewalking suits were ready, and they were to wear them into orbit, and keep the lower half on for most of the next thirty days. VIN’s suit was snug, and the permanent connections to his legs comfortable, far better than his old plastic legs. The upper part would be too hot to wear day in and day out, and he could remove it in the shuttle in orbit, or once they had their new home powered up.

  He had worn the lower portion of the suit now for days and was used to the weight of the heavier mechanics, even learning to sleep with them on. He had been told a week earlier that the prosthetics team was beginning on a new set of legs, this time with micro parts that were half the size and, once finished it wouldn’t be any bigger than what his normal legs were. This new space-suit was totally separated from his leg mechanics which meant that he could wear his new legs permanently. VIN was getting excited.

  Early the next morning, the shuttle with the first spaceship inside it, was placed into the Galaxy’s hold through its nose, and the cargo locked into place. On this flight Ryan would be in the cockpit of the C-5 watching his shuttle head into deeper space than ever before.

  With Jonesy and VIN already in the shuttle, Bob Mathews began the engine start sequence, while a sad-looking Suzi, Maggie, Penny and Michael Pitt waved from the open door of Hangar Three. Jonesy, with VIN sitting in the co-pilot seat, could see them through the feed coming from a camera in the C-5, although the group on the ground couldn’t see them. There was radio contact, but little was said as the engines screamed and the C-5 Galaxy taxied off the apron and onto the runway for its usual east to west takeoff.

  Having the absolute minimums of fuel on board the mother plane, Bob was hoping to reach as close to the height he and Jonesy had managed to get out of her on the last practice run.

  Inside the shuttle both men were quiet and subdued as they felt the soft motions of the tires trundling along the smooth runway.

  Bob turned the aircraft around, completed his final checks, and as he had done a couple of dozen times, controlled the massive beast as she gained speed down the long stretch of well-lit asphalt in front of them. This time the cargo was at its maximum weight; still the C-5 did her job and headed into the still dark sky, the sun forty-five minutes from rising over a cloudless horizon.

  “Passing through 25,000 feet,” stated Bob over the intercom thirty minutes later as the sun hit them, earlier than it would the ground below them.

  VIN was quiet. He had completed over a hundred hours in the shuttle simulator, three flights in the shuttle, and was still in awe of how sophisticated this craft was. The way this shuttle flew, and how delicately Jonesy, and he as backup, had to fly her, had totally ruined his enjoyment of his Audi, which was parked and hadn’t been moved for over three months. Pictures of flat tires and an inch of dust on his beloved car went through his head as Bob’s voice over the intercom stated that they had just passed through 30,000 feet.

  He had little to do as co-pilot, except monitor gauges and remind the pilot on checks every few seconds once they got into space. Until then he was as good a
s the car passenger Jonesy was when he drove them across the country. VIN’s first job was to open its roof doors, and help direct the shuttle while looking through a small portal in the top hatch of the roof of the cockpit. Jonesy, who would be using the thrusters, would slowly position the Silver Bullet next to the Russian satellite. After Jonesy raised the shuttle’s five-foot long docking port tube out of its roof, VIN would enter the tube wearing his full spacesuit and walking gear, go through the opened exit hatch, and float to the spacecraft, still in the shuttle’s cargo hold. With the shuttle’s cargo doors already open, VIN could enter the exact same docking port tube Jonesy would have wirelessly released out of spacecraft’s roof. He would enter the smaller craft and Jonesy would release the connections to the shuttle. The small explosive devices holding the cargo in place would ignite and propel Astermine One out of the shuttle’s hold. VIN, using its thrusters, would dock the craft to the middle docking station of the Russian Space Station.

  “Thirty-nine thousand feet, ten minutes to final checks,” stated Bob, which brought VIN back to the present and he watched as Jonesy went through the first procedures. VIN checked each procedure as Jonesy called it out and stated “Checked” as each procedure was done.

  “Don’t forget VIN, you only speak to me through our internal shuttle radio, not the external radio until we are in orbit,” Jonesy reminded VIN through the internal communications system only they could hear.

  “Roger, that,” replied VIN. The reason was that Ryan didn’t want the outside world to know who the pilot was.

  “Forty-seven thousand feet, turning towards the sun,” stated Bob fifteen minutes later. Final checks were complete, Jonesy had the instruments live, the rocket igniters were ready for VIN, and turning into the morning sun gave Jonesy an added mark to set up the craft’s climb into space. On his first flight, turned onto their backs, he had realized that he only needed to make small adjustments at the beginning of the launch, and keep the sun at his back, to keep the craft aimed in the right direction. At the end of the atmospheric climb the nose of the shuttle would be pointing just above the sun’s position, and once they were in space, minor adjustments were needed instead of large ones to begin the craft’s first rotation.

  They needed a full rotation, climbing all the time to reach the 360,000 feet mark, 40,000 feet above the Kármán line, the official entry into space, where they would, hopefully, disappear after the explosion, and employ the new Cloaking Device.

  “Forty-nine thousand feet, reducing thrust….leveling out…..going into dive,” stated Bob and now it was up to him to get them as high as he could, release them and then get out of the way. “46….45….43….41….39…. pulling out, full thrust, now I’m feeling the added weight, Jonesy, nose coming up 515 knots, five knots faster than before and fifteen over her limit… 41….45….48….51….52….Release activated…52,500…..52,750. That’s it guys, speed 420 knots, 52,900 feet. God Speed, Jonesy, VIN!”

  The shuttle was already rolling out of the rear of the Dead Chicken and, as before, VIN watched as the larger aircraft crept away above them. Bob lowered the right wing to get her out of the way as they began to drop like a roller coaster. Her nose was still pointing to the blackness above her as VIN was ordered to ignite the first-stage rockets.

  “Wings fully extended,” stated Jonesy calmly as VIN pushed the ignite button and they heard the roar from behind them.

  “First stage ignition and active,” replied VIN as he felt the jolt in his back, looked up to see the C-5 high above them and about a hundred yards to their starboard side and beginning to descend as they suddenly took off like a rocket and within a split second the mother ship had disappeared below them out of view.

  “We have ignition, climbing through 64,000 feet at 670 knots, everything looking good….71,000 feet, 810 knots….79,000 feet, 930 knots….90,000 feet, Mach 2….135,000 feet, Mach 4,” counted out Jonesy as they rapidly climbed.

  “Good luck, and fly safe, Mr. Jones,” said Ryan from the C-5 as he watched the vivid plume of the twin rockets already far above and miles to the east of them.

  “One hundred eight-seven thousand feet at Mach 9, 7,000 knots, exact same speed and altitude as the first trip,” stated Jonesy.

  “Still perfect exit,” stated ground “you looked beautiful, as good as your first flight. Your exhaust trails are now out of sight of ground.”

  “Roger that, it’s getting dark up here again, the sun looks beautiful, changing color, and right where I wanted it. Make a note guys, this sun is a real help. We need to exact the changes in time and seasons, and thanks to the sun less work has to be done once we get up here…..approaching second-stage activation; 230,000 feet at Mach 15.”

  “Second-stage igniter ready,” VIN reported to Jonesy.

  “Record slight change in flight; the first-stage lost power at 241,000 feet, not 230,000 feet, stated Jonesy to ground control. “Ignite,” he ordered VIN and the craft continued heading further into the upper atmosphere.

  “The program with full cargo had second-stage ignition at 241,000 feet,” stated Ryan still only half way down to the ground in the Dead Chicken. “Perfect height, Mr. Jones!”

  The force in VIN’s back was gone and he went through the checks on the new liquid hydrogen motors. “All readouts show perfection my side,” he stated in the internal intercom.”

  “Going through 265,000 feet at Mach 16 under full power…280,000 feet…I’m decreasing the hydrogen throttles, power to 90 percent. Two hundred ninety thousand feet and I’m getting minimum thruster control, turning onto computerized controls. Flight control under auto-pilot, power reducing to 85 percent, speed Mach 18, I’m manually using top and bottom thrusters 1 and 2 to turn us upright. Speed Mach 19.5, altitude 300,000 feet, computer says we are still climbing on our exact exit path,” added Jonesy.

  “Changing heading with port thruster 1.5 degrees to starboard, time to head towards the equator,” replied ground control now monitoring the five onboard computer readouts. “Your speed and exit path are perfect.”

  “Roger that,” replied Jonesy relaxing a little. “Power increasing to 89 percent, computer shows us climbing through Mach 21, wow 16,000 miles an hour! I’ve never flown so fast and it all looks so slow from up here. Forty-one minutes to the completion of Rotation One. Over.”

  VIN looked at the earth below them as they departed its atmosphere ever so slowly.

  “Climbing through 333,000 feet, Mach 22.”

  “Congratulations Mr. Jones, you are now 60 miles, 100 kilometers above earth and in an official Lower Space Orbit, or LSO. Again, a job well done!” stated Ryan over the C-5’s radio as his aircraft was on finals to land.

  It was now peaceful in the shuttle, the main work was done, the five computers aboard were doing their jobs and now the pilots only had to monitor their progress for the next half an hour.

  Over southern Europe they began to close in on the equator, the shortest trip around the earth and tie themselves into a similar orbit with many of the satellites above them, including the Russian station only 22 miles above them, the International Space Station’s orbit 71 miles, or 220,000 feet above the station, and a couple of thousand miles in front.

  “Three hundred fifty-eight thousand feet, speed Mach 23. Computers reducing hydrogen power to 15 percent. Cut off in twenty seconds,” Jonesy stated to ground control.

  “Computers ready to transfer onto third-stage motor,” VIN reported. The liquid hydrogen motors had done their job and now it was time for the deep space ion thrust drives to be tested for the first time.

  Thirty minutes later the time came to open all the cargo doors to release the package. First Jonesy opened the outer roof doors of the shuttle, then the inner Astermine One spacecraft roof doors. Small explosive release nodules were fired releasing the explosive package from the spacecraft, the explosions directed the cargo slowly out of the open doors. Once it was away, all the doors were closed and VIN watched as the large package, the size of a small car slowl
y floated away from them.

  “Three hundred seventy-nine thousand feet, shuttle outer doors ready for test. We are go for our next phase, to open and test outer doors.”

  Jonesy was following procedure to hide what was really going on up there. The whole team knew that the entire communication was being eaves-dropped on by dozens of listeners around the world.

  “Ten seconds to doors open stated Jonesy five minutes later. “Nine….eight….seven…. something is floating off into space. It is already two miles away from us. Nevada we have a problem, Nevada we have a problem. Something is wrong aaaaagh…….!”

  Nevada to Sierra Bravo I do you copy over?” asked ground control as a bright explosion in space could be seen only by the most powerful equipment on earth. “Nevada to Sierra Bravo I, do you copy over?”

  For twenty minutes ground control tried to pick up communications with their “lost” shuttle. They could not.

  Meanwhile, VIN had activated the Cloaking Device as soon as the shuttle’s cockpit had been lit up by the massive blast behind them.

  Jonesy dialed in full throttle to the ion thrusters and gradually their speed increased and so did their next two orbits around earth. He changed their orbital pattern to coincide with the Russian satellite’s daily orbit program and on the second orbit climbed to the same altitude, now only a thousand miles behind. The International Space Station was still far higher and was several thousand miles behind them.

  They needed to lock themselves onto the dormant satellite before the ISS would pass over them in five hours’ time, only 500 miles south of them and 70 miles higher.

  “Forward hydrogen thrusters on, ion thrusters at zero power. We need to reduce speed by 500 knots,” VIN stated. They both had taken off their helmets to speak to each other. To the rest of the world, they were just dust in space.

  Ryan’s cell phone rang. He had been down nearly twenty minutes and was wondering who would be the first to call him; a great way to find out who was watching them. He answered the phone.