He rose and walked around his desk. "But the presence of the President prevented us from actually meeting each other," the Minister said. "I am Gilberto Almendes, and I am honored to meet you," He grabbed Frank's hand and pumped it enthusiastically. "I am one of those the President mentioned, who is quite passionate about your project.
"We have discussed the project and the best way to protect it at great length," Almendes said. "We feel that the best way is for us to sign the contract with great fanfare and great publicity. This will give us ammunition to refuse when NASA asks us to quietly shut you down; we will simply respond that it cannot be done quietly, and we have no grounds to do it publicly."
Frank was coming to like Almendes. "I expect their next move would be to offer you another partnership to build your large launch pad and expand your control center."
Almendes laughed aloud. "Ha! We have been bitten once by that snake; we will not be bitten again!" He paused. "We have reviewed every scenario we could think of. As long as you stay in Brazil, you will be safe. The biggest risk will be when you venture to another nation with an extradition agreement with the U.S. I realize that to accomplish your goal will require much travel. But I suggest you hurry. I do not know how long the Russian deal can be kept secret; but we will be able to preserve secrecy here until the announcement. I estimate a month. After that, you should be very careful in your travels."
Frank glanced at Susan. "If possible, I would like the lease to cover enough land to permit me to build a home as well as the pad buildings. I may be getting married soon."
Almendes looked surprised and pleased. "Really! Excellent! I will personally insure that the lease includes sufficient acreage."
Frank had been watching out of the corner of his eye. At his mention of marriage, Susan had jumped slightly, and stared at him. Her shocked expression slowly faded to a comfortable smile.
But the meeting had ended their brief "honeymoon." Frank now had a destination for the Burans and the associated equipment, and he needed to get things moving before word got out and complications began to arise.
His first call was to Paul, at Baikonur. Paul and his team had been scouring the cosmodrome for tools, equipment and parts that could reasonably be associated with the Buran program. "We've got a lot of stuff here," Paul reported. "I'd say over a hundred tons, and that's without the Buran."
"Any problem with the Buran switch?" Frank asked.
"Nope." Paul replied in a quieter tone. "Nobody said a word when we 'discovered' we'd been working on the wrong Buran. All the Kazakh workers just shrugged their shoulders as though they'd been expecting something like that."
Frank shook his head. "They probably had been. I hate countries with a culture of corruption."
"Yeah, me too." Paul paused. "So how do we get all this stuff out of here?"
Frank thought. "You said over a hundred tons. Does any of it look too big to fit in the AN-225?"
"Well," Paul replied, "There's that godawful big crane they built to load the Buran on it. I dunno if that would fit in any airplane, even disassembled."
"Forget about that one," Frank said. There's one in Moscow that will be easier to get. Besides, you'll need that one to load the Buran onto the AN-225."
"Then you've decided to fly it out?" Paul asked. "What about that other airplane, the one you bought?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to David yet." Frank responded. "But Baikonur is too damned remote, we'd have to try to ship everything on a single-line railroad about a thousand miles before we could load it on a ship for Brazil. I think the numbers pretty much equal out. In a coin flip, the AN-225 wins. Shorter travel time, and no salt-water exposure."
"So, you'll be coming back over? When will you arrive?"
"I'm not sure. I have to get Susan visas for Russia, Ukraine, and Kazakhstan. By the way, fax me one of those letters the Kazakhs require, will you? Care of the Hilton hotel, Brasilia. Don't forget, I'll have to stop in Ukraine, to talk to Antonov about a charter."
Paul told him that the cargo stats of the AN-225 were available at Baikonur, and if they were going to have anything oversized or overweight, he'd call Frank immediately.
The next call went to David. "We got a little static from the military about the VM-T, but all the crap's been cleaned off it now, and it looks good. Hell, I'd fly it. Well, maybe with upgraded motors I'd fly it. There are a couple of more-or-less standard engine upgrades for the M-3 series, and that's what most of the static is about. The latest one is still operational with the Air Force, and they don't want to let us have them. I've got Gorneliev working on it. Hell, I don't see what the big deal is, from what I've heard, they'll sell you a MiG fighter, if you want one. But it's the holdup right now.
I've got mechs climbing all over that old bird, and the reports have been good, and the instructions for the upgrade are well known. I'm told it'll take about a week, once we get the engines. One of the Russian pilots here wants to fly it with the engines it has, but I don't want to risk it. Besides, an engine upgrade will give us more payload or more ceiling, as well as fuel mileage."
Frank frowned. "Did Gorneliev give you any idea when he could get you the engines?"
"Not really," came the reply. "I think you may need to talk to him yourself. I've got a feeling the price is an issue, and he doesn't want to deal with a 'subordinate'."
"Okay," Frank replied. "I'll be coming there after I go to Ukraine to arrange the AN-225 for Baikonur. I might have to jump back to Baikonur pretty quick, though. What about the rest of the stuff?"
"Well, we've found most of the parts for the Buran here at Ramenskoye. Did you know they call it Zhukovsky sometimes, too? Anyway, boss, I think we've damned near got us another Buran. We haven't done anything with the one at Energia. We've been kind of busy. Your pal Ternayev has been pretty busy scraping up all the Buran-related stuff at Energia. I hear he's got quite a pile. We haven't touched that big ol' crane, though. We were waiting for you to tell us what to do with it."
"Okay," Frank replied. "I'll see if I can get Gorneliev to give me a price to cocoon both Burans. I think we're going to ship them by sea from St. Petersburg, and the last thing we need is salt water corrosion."
There was a pause before David said, "Damn! It's really happening, isn't it?" His voice was awed. "You really have a launch site? We're really gonna put these birds in space?"
Frank grinned. "Yes, and yes. Brush up on your Portuguese"
"Damn right!" David yelled. "We'll get these bastards there if I have to carry them!"
Antonov Airlines was glad to hear from him. They had undertaken refurbishing the Buran anchors on spec, and were apparently getting a bit worried. He told them he would be at their offices in a few days, and wanted to arrange a cargo flight from Baikonur. They immediately assumed he was talking about the Buran, and he had to inform them that this would be a general cargo flight. He mentioned that the cargo was being palletized in accordance with the spec sheets on file at Baikonur, they were quick to tell him that those were out of date, and that updated ones, listing the new, larger capacity would be faxed to Baikonur.
***
Fred Thomas was the lead of the three attorneys he kept on retainer. He'd represented Frank for years, and had been nagging him to get back into business. Frank called him after checking the time zones.
"I'm going to need a lawyer to negotiate a contract with a foreign government," Frank told him. "It'll take about a month."
He could practically hear the grin in Fred's voice. "A month on your expense account? I'll clear my calendar. Tell me it's somewhere with balmy breezes and pretty girls."
"How does Rio de Janeiro sound at this time of year?" Frank asked.
"Rio! On you? Great!" Fred replied enthusiastically.
"Too bad," Frank replied. "It's in Brasilia, Brazil. And don't noise it around."
"Bastard. Are you sure I can't do it in Rio?"
"Nope." It's gotta be Brasilia. How's your Portuguese?" Frank asked, grinning.
<
br /> "Nada. Zip."
"Well, I guess the girls are safe, then," Frank said, "and I won't have to worry about a paternity suit. Who else is available for another trip? This one's to Russia and Ukraine, probably last a week or two."
"I think Sandy has a visa for Russia. I'll have him call you." Suddenly there was pleasure in Fred's voice. "You're back, aren't you? Back in the game?
"Well," Frank replied, "Back in a game. But you're not gonna believe it."
"Tell me."
"I can't," Frank replied. "Open line. Set up a secure voice connection and I'll brief you."
The hotel had a phone that could accept a secure connection in their 'business center'. Susan stood guard at the door while Frank talked to Fred.
He summarized the project to the flabbergasted Fred, and told him what he was to negotiate in Brasilia. In all, they spent nearly an hour on the secure phone.
"Oh," Frank said as they were about to terminate the connection. "Tell Sandy his first stop is Kiev, Ukraine. He's to review a contract for a cargo flight at Antonov Airlines. I'll be coming in behind him to sign it if it's okay.
"Then he'll head to Moscow, where he will review a formal contract. I'll probably catch up with him there. I'll be faxing a copy of the informal contract that everyone signed. Basically, he's to just make sure there have been no substantive changes, so I can sign it when I get there. Have him call me at this number on a secure line for the details."
"When do you want me to head for Brazil?" Fred asked.
"What, you're still there?"
"All right, Frank. I'll jump a flight as soon as I can arrange a visa. Should I meet you there?"
Frank shook his head before realizing that Fred couldn't see him. "No, I won't be here, Fred. I'll be on my way to Ukraine, to meet up with Sandy."
"Gotcha, Frank," Fred replied. "I'll get Sandy on a plane ASAP."
He finished up by calling Almendes and telling him of Fred's imminent arrival. He gave Almendes Fred's name, and told him it would probably be a few days before Fred arrived. "Would it be possible to arrange to visit Alcântara, to get an idea of the layout?" he asked.
"It may be possible," Almendes replied slowly. "Remember, the military control security up there. I suspect it would take as much as a week to arrange."
Frank wasn't surprised. "Well, I'll be traveling for a couple of weeks, now. Do you think a pass could be arranged by the time I get back?"
"I will try," Almendes replied "But the military can be unpredictable. If they get sticky, they may refuse because there is no contract yet. If I were to accompany you, of course it could be done; but I cannot leave here now."
"I understand," Frank replied. "Please try. I could also use aerial photos of the area, and information about transportation availability. I understand there is a shipping port at São Luis, just across the bay from Alcântara."
"Yes, Itaqui. But it mostly handles bulk grain shipments. I do not know what cargo handling equipment it has. It is a real seaport, however, not just a fishing port."
"That's good," Frank replied. "I'll try to research it and find out. I'm going to be moving a lot of cargo, and having a seaport just across the bay could be invaluable. I'll also need to know where the nearest air port with at least a 3500 meter runway is located. Some of that freight will be coming by air, on a big airplane."
Susan chartered a business version of the Boeing 737, as it was the smallest aircraft with the range needed for a flight to Kiev, Ukraine. She had determined that they would not need a visa. She had also contacted Antonov Airlines, and they would have a car available at Boryspil International Airport to pick them up and drive them to Gostomel Airport, the cargo-only airport that was the home field of the AN-225.
It was a long flight, but Frank spent most of it getting to know this fascinating new creature that had entered his life. Finally, though, sleep overtook them.
***
A month later, everything was underway. Contracts had been signed with both the Russians and the Brazilians, a cargo ship loaded with Buran parts, tools, and machinery had left St. Petersburg Russia bound for the port of Itaqui at São Luis, Brazil. Freight from Baikonur had arrived in Belem, Brazil in an Antonov AN-124, smaller brother of the AN-225, and transshipped by a tramp steamer to Itaqui. A large hangar was nearly complete at the Alcântara Launch Center, and a 3,500-meter runway was under construction. Ugly gray ferrocement buildings had erupted all over the complex to accommodate the small army of Brazilian construction workers and techs, Japanese computer designers, and a multi-national force of space experts, many ex-NASA, that had invaded the quiet launch site. Frank and Susan were living in a small, sparsely furnished apartment while their house was being built.
David had the VM-T aircraft up and flying, and was getting himself qualified to pilot it. He was waiting impatiently for the hangar and runway to be completed.
Frank had flown to Tokyo, where he had met secretly with the heads of three mid-sized computer companies. He knew all of the men, of course; he had dealt with them for years. He suggested they form a consortium to contract with him to provide computer services including onboard navigation and control systems, electronic control systems, a complete base operations system, communications systems, and a complete intranet system for his installation at Alcântara. The contract would specify that no technology requiring a U.S. export license was to be used in any of the systems. He gave them a month to put together the consortium and an offer, and explained that it would be necessary for them to make their presentation in Brazil. He had no doubt they would be able and willing to do the job; it was one he'd have killed for when he was running his company.
That was his last trip out of Brazil. Interest was picking up worldwide. Rumors were flying that Frank Weatherly was doing something connected with space, and spending a lot of money. Interest in space-related stocks began to pick up. Several American space-tech companies contacted Frank, and he had to tell them he couldn't do business with them.
The U.S. government was beginning to show an interest, as well. David reported that two Americans claiming to be from the U.S. Embassy in Moscow had visited Ramenskoye asking questions about the VM-T, which fortunately, David had been working on at the time. David told them he was restoring an antique aircraft, and took them on a very lengthy and boring tour of the old airplane, pointing out cables and levers in tedious detail while carefully steering them away from the hangar containing the Buran. The old orbiter had already been partially stripped, so David simply verified that it was under the 100,000-pound limit, removed its vertical tailfin, and had it cocooned in the plastic shipping container built for it. Once the VM-T was flight-ready and tested, the huge special-purpose crane would lift the Buran into place, and everyone hoped it would be flown to Alcântara without incident.
Movement of the Burans had turned out to be something of a puzzle. Huge, specially built cranes were required to lift the Burans high atop the AN-225 or even the VM-T. However, both of the special cranes were in Russia; one at Baikonur, and one at Ramenskoye. One of the cranes had been specifically listed as to be given to Frank on the final, signed contract.
But once one of the cranes was disassembled for shipping, it would no longer be possible to use it to load a Buran. However, if one of the Burans was loaded and flown out before the crane was disassembled, how would the Buran be unloaded in Brazil?
The final plan turned out to be complicated, but the least costly. The huge Ramenskoye crane was used to load the Energia booster, in its plastic pod, onto the VM-T, after which it was disassembled and cocooned for sea travel. The loaded VM-T simply waited at Ramenskoye for the crane to be reassembled in Brazil. The crane and both the Energia and Ramenskaya Burans, now suitably cocooned, were shipped by rail to St. Petersburg, where they were loaded aboard a ship for their voyage to Itaqui, Brazil, just across the bay from Alcântara.
The crane was reassembled at Alcântara, while the Baikonur Buran was loaded aboard the huge AN-225 along with much of the
rest of what Paul called his "Buran loot," and the whole lot flown to Alcântara, to be unloaded by the newly reassembled crane.
Once the crane was once again operating in Brazil, the VM-T carried the booster to Alcântara for unloading. The VM-T made several trips to both Moscow and Baikonur, transporting parts, boosters, and other assorted "Buran stuff" in the huge, ungainly-looking cargo canisters built for them long ago.
The Russians had been very cooperative. They had delayed the announcement of his investment in the Kliper/Parom project until the week before the Brazilian lease was signed with much fanfare in Brasilia. In exchange, Frank had leaked advance word of it to several wealthy investors who could be depended upon to gossip to their friends.
***
The voice on the other end of the phone was cheery and very American. "Mr. Weatherly? This is George Thompson, Deputy Director of NASA Civilian Space Programs Relations. You're a hard man to contact, sir."
"What can I do for you, Mr. Thompson?" Frank replied in a neutral tone.
"Well, sir, it's more like what we can do for you. We understand that you are participating with the Russians and the Brazilians on a space venture. Are you aware, sir, that NASA has a number of programs for promoting the civilian exploitation of space?"
"Yes, I am," Frank replied. "My Brazilian friends have filled me in on how your 'partnership' benefitted them."
"Er, uh, yes. An unfortunate situation, that. But we can offer both technical and financial help in expanding access to space. May I ask why you went to the Russians and the Brazilians instead of coming to NASA?"
"I think you misunderstand the situation, Mr. Thompson. I have no NASA-style 'partnership' with the Russians. I simply arranged to purchase their entire Buran project in exchange for an investment in one of their ongoing space projects. Aside from that and some technical services contracted with two Russian companies, there is no 'relationship' with Russia. If you would like, I will fax you a copy of the English version of the contract we signed. You will find that once we ship all the Buran stuff from Russia, the contract is complete.
Man's Hope Page 10
