Man's Hope

by Zellmann, William

  "Do not worry, David, I plan to have children someday. I will not hang around." It was said with a dead straight face, pure Yuri.

  "Yuri's children," said Raoul. "Now there's a scary thought!"

  "Now," David said pointedly, returning to the subject. "Those boosters are so weak it'll take almost a week to add 60 miles per hour to our speed. That's why I'm hoping to get a solid boost from the core stage, even if we have to dump it. Our liftoff time was very carefully calculated to let us skip orbiting entirely, and head straight for the comet, if we can. The theory is that the residual delta vee from the boosters might give us a big enough head start to let Dolf plan an interception orbit that we can reach with the ions.

  "The whole first part of this mission is full of 'ifs' and 'maybes' and 'we hopes'. We can't relax until we get our butts firmly planted on that comet and start digging in. So I'm not going to try to brief the rest of the mission. Once we know whether we're taking the core stage along, or whether we're going to have to use the ions to get past GTO, then we can discuss everything else. Anyone disagree?" Silence and two shaken heads were the only reply. "Okay, then let's go ruin NASA's day."

  They stood and filed out toward the dressing room, where they would be donning their space suits for liftoff.

  Yuri hung back, and stopped David. "You know very well there are reasons for the NASA and the Federal Space Agency procedures. Safety reasons."

  David nodded. "I know, Yuri. And they are good reasons. But this is amateur night. We're dealing with 'way too many 'ifs' and 'maybes' to operate like the pros. For instance, the upper stages of those boosters are supposed to be able to be stopped and restarted. But suppose I shut them down to do a course correction, and they don't restart. There we would sit, maybe not even at LEO, and I'd have to fire the core stage engines just to achieve GTO. NASA would just have the crew sit there while they calculated a return orbit, and would try again later. For us, there is no 'later'. This is our only shot. Would we have enough juice to achieve TLI? I don't know. Oh, we could ditch the core stage at GTO, and light off the ion engines, and eventually, we'd make it to the comet. After ten months or so. If we didn't miss the rendezvous.

  "So, Anton and the boys and I decided that our best course was to use up all three stages of the boosters and dump them without trying any fancy stuff. We may try an orbit correction when we light off the core stage engines." He shrugged. "Hell, this whole mission is science fiction. So it's only appropriate that we skip the intermediate orbits, and lift off like the heroes of some damned novel. I wasn't really making fun of NASA's procedures; I was just trying to find a positive way to say we're going to ignore them."

  The briefing took place at 1:30AM in Alcântara. By 2:30, the crew was suited, and were strapping themselves into their seats in the Hope. At 2:48 the towers released the ship, and at precisely 2:54AM, Man's Hope lifted off, to the cheers of the onlookers.

  The crew sat mashed into their seats by the acceleration. The only control David could reach was the "panic button" clutched in his hand. Meanwhile, in his ear, Control was reeling off the altitudes through which they were passing. 30 miles, 50 miles, the numbers kept rolling off. There was a 'bump' more felt than heard, and a momentary cessation of the crushing weight. "First stage separation," the voice in his ear reported, just the weight settled back, not quite so heavy this time. "150 miles, 200 miles, we have LEO altitude," said the voice in his ear. Shortly afterward, a milder 'bump' announced separation of the strap-ons' second stages, closely followed by the pressure of the third stage, which Anton had called the "Blok DM." "20,000 miles" the voice droned, then, more excitedly, "We have GEO" just as the third stages separated, and the big core stage engines fired. The heaviness returned, but David found himself able to reach his control panels.

  "Well," David told himself, "time to earn my pay." "Control," he called, "please advise orbital corrections while we still have main engines."

  It was Dolf's voice that answered. "Correction is 1.5 degrees left, 2 degrees down," he said promptly. "Delta-V is one-five-zero meters per second above prediction."

  David slapped his armrest. "Ha! By God, we're going to do it! Frank, you crazy old coot, I think we're going fast enough to be able to keep the core stage!"

  The sound of a throat being cleared came over the Control circuit. "Uh, Man's Hope," Frank's voice sounded in his ear, "Please remember that all comms are being recorded by multiple sources. But damn David! That sounds good!" Frank's voice quivered with emotion.

  After several minutes, David cut the main engines, though a small amount of fuel remained. Dolf had reported that they were on course, and that their speed, their delta V, was over 500 meters per second above prediction.

  "Okay," he said. "It's time for you guys downstairs to go to work." He was answered by a chorus of "Yes, sir's". He turned to Yuri. "You're up, too, Yuri. It's time to see if Dr, Noname was telling us the truth. Did she mention a money-back guarantee, by any chance?"

  He was rewarded by one of Yuri's rare, tight-lipped smiles. "I am afraid not. I suspect she is, how you say? 'Fly-by-night operator'." He unstrapped, rose and drifted down the ladder to the 'passenger compartment' beneath the pilot's station.

  David grinned. "You may be right. I hope not."

  The cargo bay, of course, was still pressurized from being sealed on Earth. As he followed the others through the airtight hatch, Yuri secured it, and then turned on the pump that would pump the atmosphere into a holding tank and depressurize the cargo bay.

  "First," he said, "We must make certain that everything is still properly secured. We must not have a crate drifting loose. Remember, large things are weightless here, but they are not massless. It is the mass that will crush you. Then, we will gather the solar panels and carry them through the airlock."

  Ron Mbele looked irritated through his visor. "Why not just open the bay doors? You've already started the depressurization pump."

  Yuri turned to him as quickly as his space suit would allow. "Because I have ordered it. We will be on this vessel a long time. It is important that we learn of any problems that exist as quickly as possible. We must also learn how to use every part of the ship. There will be a time to experiment with the cargo bay doors and the handling arm; but that time is not when we are in easy view of the entire world. So, first, we learn if the personnel airlock functions correctly. Da?"

  Ron's nod was barely visible through his visor. "Yes, sir." He turned and joined the others drifting around the cargo bay, pulling on a cargo net here, or a rope there. Ron decided it would be embarrassing if half their food simply floated away when they opened the cargo bay doors.

  Due to his small size, Yoshi was the one who located and began gathering the rolled-up solar panels and the thin aluminum tubes that would support them.

  Most orbital missions and unmanned satellites had used conventional solar panels that unfolded to deploy. But Frank had not been satisfied with them. Somehow he had come across mention of flexible solar panels, that could be simply rolled up for storage, and unrolled to a 16-foot length. They also produced 124 watts each on Earth, and should produce at least four times that in space. They were expecting almost 500 watts each, significantly more than most older style panels. To David's great amusement, Frank had simply bought them on the Internet.

  Small holes had been drilled into the Hope's wings, with plugs installed to restore aerodynamic smoothness. Raoul, Ron, Dolf, and Yoshi each grabbed a rolled up panel and a supply of rods, as they had practiced at Alcântara. One by one, they squeezed through the small airlock, and emerged into open space. Each attached a reeled safety line to his assigned eye on the ship's exterior. Yuri, following them out, headed for the rear of the ship like the experienced spacewalker he was.

  Frank had argued that no one should be alone outside, and that one of the others should accompany him, but Yuri reminded him that solo spacewalks were not uncommon for Russian cosmonauts, and that the sooner they got the solar panels erected, the sooner they co
uld light off the ion drives and camouflage the nuclear reactor's emissions. Frank had reluctantly yielded.

  Meanwhile the others, in their magnetic boots, had jumped down the side of the Hope, and begun erecting the ridiculously spindly-looking tubes. It took two of them to unroll and stretch the 15-inch-wide solar panels two high on top of each wing. They actually stretched past the ends of the wings, of course, but that was not a concern. Two more panels were installed vertically above the cabin. Ron connected the panels' electrical connections, and plugged them into the matching plugs installed in the hull. Then he went back through the airlock to verify their function, and announced that they were producing over 4000 watts from their six solar panels, plenty to operate ion engines, though not enough to get full power from the state-of-the-art LiLFA ion engines aboard the Hope.

  The others began clumping over to the airlock, but David asked Raoul to remain behind until Yuri could join him.

  Even though the reactor had been fueled on Earth, and designed to be adjusted in space, it took Yuri over an hour to be satisfied enough with its performance to pronounce it ready. Ron took readings on the generator inside the cargo bay, and announced that it was producing just over 12 megawatts. Since the engines had been tested at 8 megawatts, there was plenty of power remaining for the ship.

  Yuri appeared over the rear of the Hope, and immediately told David he could light off the ion engines. He and Raoul re-entered the cargo bay, and Yuri turned on the pumps to repressurize it.

  As soon as he returned to the passenger compartment, Dolf dove back into his tablet, which he had put into the communal docking station. He was punching keys frantically and talking nonstop to his fellows at Alcântara. He talked David through several short bursts of the small attitude jets to correct minor course discrepancies. All the crewmen were very busy, running post-launch checks of their assigned equipment.

  Each of the crew reported to Control on their specialty, though Yuri did so in code words. Amazingly, it appeared that everything had gone exactly as planned, even to the fact that the Hope was still attached to the huge core stage. Unbelievably, there was even a small amount of fuel remaining in the core stage tank. The crew was jubilant, and over the radio, it sounded like the Control staff was having a party. Frank was again forced to remind the crew of the many ears listening to their every word.

  Finally, it was 0900, 9 AM Alcântara time. Dolf grimaced in distaste as he flicked on the large main microphone.

  "Good morning, Earth," he began. "This is Man's Hope calling, Rodolfo Ancara speaking. As you know, Mr. Weatherly decided that since this is man's enterprise, the people of Earth should be involved. He has broadcast the radio frequency we will be using, so you will be able to hear all of our contacts with Earth, including those with Alcântara Control. At the moment, this broadcast will have to be repeated to reach around the world, but Mr. Weatherly has arranged for this, as well as for language translations.

  As we get farther from Earth, though, our beam will become wider, and weaker. Soon, it will cover the entire half of the Earth facing our position, and anyone with a sufficiently powerful antenna will be able to hear us direct. Mr. Weatherly is inviting everyone on Earth to accompany us on this mission. You will hear of our failures as well as our successes. Every day at this time, I will broadcast a briefing in English. They will be rebroadcast around the world, and translated. This is the first of those briefings.

  "Many of you will have been surprised by our liftoff; it was far from conventional. In this first report, I would like to explain the reason for our unique method of departure.

  "As many of you know, comets consist mostly of water ice. They have even been described as 'dirty snowballs'. Water consists of two elements, two atoms of hydrogen, and one of oxygen. This is why you sometimes hear water called H2O. Now, our main rocket engines are liquid-fueled, and use hydrogen and oxygen as their fuel. Some time ago, we decided that it would be very useful if we could retain the large tank and main engines, called the 'core stage', instead of dropping it, as is usual. Since the main engines on the core stage use hydrogen and oxygen, once we reach the comet, we hope to break some of the water ice down into hydrogen and oxygen, compress them, and refill the now-empty tank. While we do not expect to be able to liquefy the gases, we hope to compress them sufficiently to provide us some additional rocket boost, in case of an emergency.

  "Now, a question that will occur to many is why we were able to do this, and other missions have not. The answer is that we stand on their shoulders. We were able to use the data that they, the pioneers, gathered for us. The information that they have gathered over the last fifty years told us how much boost was needed to lift how much weight, actually called mass, into how high an orbit. Those of you who are students, please ask your science teachers to explain the difference between weight and mass; it is a vital distinction in space. Here, nothing weighs anything; but mass is the same as on Earth. For those not in school, I recommend Google.

  "Thanks to those previous missions," he continued, "we found that if we used larger than usual, three-stage booster rockets, we might get enough lift to permit us to keep the core stage, instead of discarding it. Please do not misunderstand. Our Commander had his finger on a button that would separate the core stage at an instant's notice, if necessary.

  "However, we also realized that if we used a traditional launch pattern, where we would pause at Low Earth Orbit, and possibly again at geostationary orbit, we would not be able to sustain enough velocity to lift both our vessel and the core stage.

  "We were very confident of our boosters and ship, so we decided that we would very carefully calculate our liftoff time, so that we would be able to boost straight into an orbit heading for the comet.

  "We also listen to Earth news broadcasts, and have been hearing that we risked the lives of other astronauts by our 'reckless' departure. The only other astronauts in orbit at the time were on the International Space Station. That station was on the opposite side of the planet when we lifted. The only lives that were risked were our own.

  "So, now we are on our way to Carter IV. Those of you with powerful telescopes may have been able to see us go outside and spread our solar panels. Those panels will enable us to use four ion engines. This means that instead of building up speed and coasting, the traditional means of space travel, we will have constant boost, all the way. As always, though, there is a down side. Ion engines provide a constant boost, but it is a very weak boost. Our acceleration, called 'delta-V', will be approximately one-thousandth of a 'G'. A 'G' is about 9.81 meters per second per second, or just over 32 feet per second per second. We will accelerate at one-one-thousandth of that, or .00981 meters per second per second, or .0032 feet per second per second.

  "To put it another way, if we were starting from a standing start, with a velocity of zero, it would take us several days to build up to 60 miles per hour. But constant boost is cumulative. I recommend that you high school students ask your math teachers how fast we will be going when we approach the comet, and how long it will take us to get there. For simplicity's sake, I suggest using a starting velocity of 10,000 miles per hour. The comet's orbit is easily available on the Internet, but for your calculations, I suggest a distance of 266,000,000 miles.

  "For those of you whose school days are far behind them, I will provide the answer tomorrow. If you have any questions you would like to ask us, Mr. Weatherly has set up a web site where you can post them. I will answer selected questions on these broadcasts as we progress. The website is www.man'shope.org. Until tomorrow, then, we hope you have a good day. For us, it is always a good day in space."

  Chapter 8

  Dolf sat back with a gusty sigh. "That is the hardest part of my job," he complained. "I sound like a schoolteacher."

  David grinned. "You did great. I'd sign up for your course."

  Dolf smiled broadly. "You already have. All of you have. You are a captive audience for these daily classes."

  Ron grunted. "
I am glad I brought plenty of music on SD cards!"

  The next day, Dolf seemed particularly cheerful as he did his 'Daily Report'. He had received almost immediate feedback, most of it positive

  "We have received much response to yesterday's report," he began. "Some teachers complained about being put 'on the spot' by their students, and several other teachers were concerned that the information I provided was insufficiently precise. Other listeners said that they wanted to hear reports of what is happening, not attend a math class.

  "To all of you, I apologize. However, I must mention that space travel is all maths. To those math teachers that felt 'on the spot', I say that all that was required was the formula d=½at², with which every math teacher should be familiar. As for the imprecision, every capsule, every spaceship, every piece of space junk, is on an orbit. Now, orbital mechanics can become very complex very quickly. In addition, there are a number of factors involved that would cause a precise computation to require the services of a mathematician and a very powerful computer; for example, my problem did not include solar gravitational influences, or the fact that the comet is on an orbit of its own, which we must plan to intercept on a tangent. The person who asks 'when will you get there?' or 'how long will the trip take?' does not expect a scheduled arrival date. He merely wants an approximation, a reply accurate within an order of magnitude. And for the person who just wants me to answer the damned question, I reply that we cannot be sure, due to some of the factors I mentioned. But we expect to reach the comet in not less than four, and not more than six months. To be honest, I expect we'll reach it somewhere around the five-month mark. But scientists hate to be wrong, so I stand by the four-to-six month estimate.

  "We also received a question from a young man who does not understand the difference between weight and mass. Well, let me say that to you on Earth, there is no difference. Weight is mass, and mass is weight, due to the Earth's gravity field. But here in space, there is no gravity. I could, in theory, lift a locomotive, here. I say 'in theory' because it would take me a long time to get that much mass moving, and I'd actually be worn out by then. But once I did, it would have all the moving mass of the locomotive on Earth. If I got it moving only a few inches per second, and I did not get out of its way, it would squash me like a bug, and probably go right through this ship. In other words, weight is what you lift. Mass is what hurts you. This is something we never forget in space!"