by Jeff Pollard
In fact, the craft is so small that if four desperate astronauts were to resort to using it, at liftoff, the people would make up more than a third of the mass of the whole ship. Without the human cargo or the hydrazine fuel, the whole thing weighs only 120 kg. With fuel it comes to 940 kg. That's light enough that just two people on the lunar surface could lift it off the ground without much trouble.
The Robotics Division quickly begins their exploration of the site while the Pegasus team double and triple checks every system, securing the lander for four days on the surface.
With SpacEx lunar exploration underway, it was time for the press conference. Time for Brittany to stand in front of video from the rover and to explain the ease with which the team dealt with temporary and non-serious communication problems. Then she would introduce the crew of Pegasus 3, who would be the first humans back to the Moon since Apollo 17. Then K imagined questions would be asked about Caroline being the first woman on the Moon, and whether the click-bait article should influence who we root for. Kingsley works up a number of answers to a variety of hypothetical questions on the subjects. Most answers revolve around the fact that Caroline is a pioneer of space tourism, and that her role in the mission is as a passenger, not a pilot or scientist, and that if she were a man, nobody would be complaining, just look at Richard, nobody's saying root against Richard Branson. It's sexist because if she were a man it would be a non-issue.
K stands behind a curtain at the side of the stage watching Brittany Hammersmith begin the press conference deftly. She always handles the press well, putting on a smile, seeming to flirt and joke with everyone in a way Kingsley could never do. Brittany touts the growing army of American SpacEx personnel, without directly saying so, she's giving people a reason to root for SpacEx and to consider them America's team. Brittany shows a replay of the celebration in Mission Control when the Pegasus 2 was confirmed safely landed. K watches the video on a monitor and realizes that he barely knows any of the people in the Control Room. Among all those people, the clearly most important hire was Brittany Hammersmith. K figures they wouldn't be where they were now if he had hired just about anyone else.
“We should hook her up with someone,” Caroline says.
“No,” K says.
“I know a duke or two,” Caroline adds.
“I don't want her distracted by some prince,” K replies.
“You wouldn't be saying that if she was a man,” Caroline replies.
“Hello, I got in trouble for hiring bachelors instead of married people,” K replies.
“But that was for safety reasons.”
“It wasn't just astronauts,” K replies.
“You think bachelors work harder?” Caroline asks incredulously.
“Absolutely,” K replies. “One of those evolution things. If you already have a mate you're bound to for life and there's lawyers and judges in the way of you separating, it's pretty difficult to see the benefit of accomplishing great things and improving your attractiveness to mates.”
“That sounds like completely BS evolutionary psychology.”
“Maybe it is,” K replies.
“If you're that committed to this idea, why aren't you single?”
“I'm not married,” K replies. “And younger me was a lot more committed to the idea, hence Wendy.”
“Still no sign of Branson,” Bowe says as he enters.
“Would you call him?” K asks Caroline.
“Alright,” she says, walking off to find her phone. K and Tim watch the monitors and take in Brittany's handling of the press. She's building up hype and momentum and it will all lead to her announcing their mission and introducing the crew.
The bank of flat-screens show the internal feed as well as feeds from many news networks across the globe. All at once, several news networks switch to a view at a different press conference while labeling it as “Breaking News” across the bottom of the screen. It's a ULA press conference. They were announcing the date of their manned landing.
“Why is this breaking news?” K asks.
“Aren't they landing in September? You said you had an inside source on that,” Tim replies.
“That's what I heard,” K replies. ULA President Anthony Parks takes the stage and prepares to make the announcement, looking smug as ever. He first brags about their new Delta-V rocket and tries to paint a picture of ULA freeing America from relying on Russia for access to space, as if SpacEx didn't exist.
“You know, if anyone is responsible for us relying on Russia in the first place, it was ULA,” K says to Tim. “They're the ones that thought it was a good idea to buy rocket engines from Russia rather than making them here,” K says.
“But they were cheaper to buy from Russia weren't they?”
“Yeah, but that's not the point. If you have to buy them from someone else then you don't control the supply, and then shit happens like Crimea and you suddenly lose control of your production. And while it might be cheaper to buy than to start up your own program, that doesn't mean it's smarter to just import. I could have bought engines from Russia, but I developed my own with an eye towards making them cheaper. Didn't take long before we were producing more rocket engines than anyone else on the planet and with quantity comes savings on individual unit costs. It's just such short-term thinking to do the calculation and say they're cheaper today and to not consider tomorrow.
This is what happens when you get a monopoly and rig the game. No progress, technology stagnates, and prices find a way to keep climbing. But let's pat ULA on the back for developing the Delta-V when Russia cut off their supply of rockets. Hooray for them.”
“You're still worried they're going to buy the people making the decisions aren't you? You think we're gonna lose the Moon program,” Tim says.
“I wouldn't be shocked.”
“But with Walken in charge, that guy doesn't have a price,” Tim says.
“Corruption finds a way,” K replies. “Usually in congress.”
“And today, ULA is prepared to declare that we will be landing a team of four astronauts on the surface of the Moon in June of this year,” Anthony Parks announces. The news channels go crazy. Those covering SpacEx still immediately switch and plaster the June announcement everywhere.
“June?” Tim asks. “You said September.”
“That's what my source said,” K replies.
“How can they do that?” Tim asks.
“They were supposed to do their unmanned test landing in June,” K replies. “They must be skipping the test. They're gonna put people on the first landing. That's the only way this makes sense. And the timing is convenient isn't it? They waited until we did our test landing to announce they would skip theirs. If they announced this two weeks ago, then we could have decided to skip our test landing and put people on this mission.”
Tim and Kingsley watch Parks talk in front of CGI illustrations of the ULA lunar system. A pair of Delta-V Heavys launch, drop their boosters and run on the single remaining booster core for another ten seconds in the CGI demonstration (which in reality would be minutes). Then the Advanced Common Evolved Stage (ACES), which ULA came up with to replace a variety of upper stages, kicks in. Each of the Delta-V's uses an ACES-121, which is the 121-tonne version of the upper stage (there are also a 71 and 43 tonne versions). The payload shrouds are jettisoned and now we see the Boeing lunar lander, imaginatively named Boeing Lunar Lander, atop one of the ACES-121s, while the other features no cargo, just a single docking port. The BLL continues past LEO and heads to the Moon, ditching its ACES and parks into a lunar orbit.
The remaining ACES-121 stays in LEO and the presentation cuts to a bad CG graphic of robotic astronauts walking dramatically toward a launch tower. The astronauts enter the Orion capsule, then the graphic pulls back to show the capsule sitting atop a Delta-V, not a heavy, but a single-core version with two RS-68s. They launch, drop the core, then continue on an ACES-43 upper stage. The upper stage cu
ts out and the Orion flies solo before joining up with the ACES-121 waiting for it in LEO. Then the ACES-121 burns to send the Orion out to the Moon, then burns to slow into lunar orbit before finally being jettisoned. Then the Orion joins up with the Boeing Lunar Lander, the lander heads down to the Moon, and the bad video-game-like astronauts plant a ULA flag next to an American flag on the lunar surface.
“Introducing, the first mission to land on the Moon in nearly 50 years,” Parks says dramatically on TV, “the crew of Luna 100!”
“Luna 100? That's a dumb name,” K says.
“Worse than Pegasus 3?” Tim asks.
“At least our numbers make sense,” K replies.
The crew emerges to applause, there's Dexter Houston as Commander, former head of the SpacEx astronaut office, followed by Hadara Sharon, an Israeli woman who has been to space once before on a Soyuz.
“No answer on Richard's phone,” Caroline says, walking back in.
“Look at the TV,” K says. Caroline looks up and finds Richard Branson and his graying blond mullet on TV.
“Was Richard your source on the date of the ULA launch by any chance?” Tim asks K. Kingsley doesn't reply, staring sternly at the screen. “He was playing both sides,” Tim says.
“Trying to be on the first flight to the Moon,” Caroline says.
“Introducing the first humans to land on the Moon since 1972, the crew of Pegasus 3!”
“Well, let's get out there,” Tim says. K, Caroline, and Commander Bowe head onto the stage amidst applause, putting on smiles and pretending they didn't just get pre-empted by ULA.
“At least I won't be the first woman on the Moon,” Caroline says through a smile to Kingsley as the crowd gives them a standing ovation.
“Who said we're conceding?” K asks.
“We can't beat them now K,” Tim replies.
“Sure we can,” K says.
“We can't go in June. We need two Heavy launches, we don't have the rockets,” Tim says. Kingsley takes the podium.
“We were supposed to be joined on stage by our fourth crew member, one Richard Branson. But he's on TV right now as a member of ULA's Moon crew. They also just announced they will be landing in June. It seems they had a spy. They waited until we did our test mission to announce that they would be skipping the test mission and jumping heedlessly straight to a manned landing. But I am ready to announce, right here, right now, ULA is not going to beat me to the Moon.”
K walks off stage, leaving Brittany to handle this. Caroline and Tim follow him, trying to pretend like nothing is wrong for the cameras. K walks as fast as he can down a hallway. Tim races to catch up.
“How the hell are we gonna beat them?” Tim shouts. “We don't have the rockets.”
“Sure we do,” K says.
“Used rockets?” Tim asks. K has an uncanny ability to walk so fast that Tim has to jog to match his pace.
“Why not?”
“We haven't done a single Heavy launch with any reused E-Niners. You want to strap three reused rockets together, then put the only Aquila upper-stages we have in stock on top of them and hope for the best?”
“We've reused E-Niners.”
“Not in a Heavy.”
“First time for everything,” K replies. “This is what reusability is for.”
“No it's not, they're for bringing costs down, not for winning races,” Tim says as K begins to pull away, forcing Tim to jog to catch back up. “Where are you going so fast?”
“Schwinghammer's office,” K replies.
“That's the first thing you think of? The empty seat?”
“We need four people to meet mission requirements, and whoever they are, they have less than two months to be ready to walk on the Moon. I'm more worried about finding someone that can get up to speed that fast than I am about the rockets. So yes, I'm going to her office first.”
K enters Missie Schwinghammer's office with Tim just behind him, both of them are sweating.
“I'm still trying to get Branson on the phone,” Missie says exasperatedly.
“You don't watch much TV huh?” Tim asks.
“Dick's out, we need to replace him,” K says simply. “Oh and we're launching in June.”
“So you want me to find someone that can be ready in two months?” Missie asks.
“Right.”
“Sylvia, Jerry, Josh,” Missie names off SpacEx astronauts.
“No, not one of us,” K replies. “A passenger.”
“What about Sergei?” Missie asks. “He's been our best customer.”
“Look at the TV again,” K says. Missie discovers that Sergei Kuznetzov is the fourth member of the Luna 100 crew. “We need the PR on our side,” K says. “I need a story, a reason to root for us. Give the press an angle that even if ULA beats us by a few days, they'll still cover us. They've got Branson, we've got me. I think I'm a bigger rock star than he is, especially since this is my program and he's just a passenger. Nobody gives a shit about Dexter or Hadara or Sergei. We've got royalty, we're already winning the celebrity battle there, but we need to run up the score.”
“Like who?” Missie asks.
“I don't know.”
“You want me to find someone that's famous, experienced in space travel, and can be ready to be on a Moon mission eight weeks from now,” Missie says, trying to indicate to Kingsley how difficult that task is.
“And they should be liked, not just famous.”
“There goes Bieber,” Missie says.
“Why don't we just get someone from NASA, they've got people training for this,” Missie asks.
“Because if we lose to ULA, we need to get passengers, paying customers. We need a real human interest story, something to get the whole world's attention.”
“Like who?” Missie asks, exasperated.
“I have no idea,” K replies. He stares at the screen showing the Luna 100 crew. Kuznetzov is holding a microphone and saying a few words. He drops the microphone abruptly.
“Sorry, I'm still used to things floating when you let go,” Sergei says with a laugh.
Chapter 24
“So who is it?” Caroline asks. She rides with Kingsley in a self-driving Tezla. Kingsley flew them to the SpacEx facility in Texas, then punched in a Texas address into the console of the Tezla. The drive is leading them toward Galveston Bay.
“You'll see,” K replies while reading on the tablet built into the steering wheel. With steering wheels not being needed for steering much of the time, engineers determined it was safer to build a tablet into the wheel and develop airbags that deploy around it, rather than leaving the “driver” to use a laptop or tablet that is blasted into their faces by the deployment of an airbag. They of course told people not to prop tablets up against steering wheels, but they had also tried to tell people not to text and drive and we all know how that went.
“That's what you said an hour ago,” Caroline replies.
“Yeah, so why should I change my story now?” K asks.
“But who is it?”
“You'll just have to wait and see,” K muses. The car winds through a neighborhood and parks on the street in front of a large ranch-style house. K and Caroline walk up to the front door. K knocks.
“So who is it?” Caroline asks.
“You're this close to finding out, you can't wait ten seconds?”
“They might not be home,” Caroline replies.
“I think he's home,” K says.
“So it's a he!” Caroline says.
“Indeed,” K says. He knocks again. A deadbolt clicks open.
“It's open,” a voice shouts from the other side. K opens the door, discovering an old man in a wheelchair. Barely a hint of any hair, he looks to be closer to 100 than to 80. “Hey, I know you,” he says with a wry smile and a deep voice. He reverses his motorized chair with a joystick, whips it around in a J-turn, accelerates up the hallway. “Marilyn! Company,” He shouts as K a
nd Caroline follow him. The old man weaves through a series of turns, entering the living room, dodging furniture, then slides the tail around as he skids to a stop, like a stunt-driver parallel parking between a pair of small tables. This is clearly where he spends much of his time, with remotes, a tablet, a laptop, and a couple of empty drinks on the tables flanking him.
“Have a seat anywhere,” the old man says.
“We've never officially met,” K says anxiously. “But I'm Kingsley Pretorius, you know, the SpacEx, Tezla, you know, that guy, you probably know me from TV.” Caroline looks suspiciously to Kingsley, having never seen him so nervous when meeting someone in his entire life.
“Oh yeah, I know who you are,” the old man says like he's insulted that anyone would think he doesn't know who such an important figure is. “But not because of TV. We both testified to congress on the same day once, maybe six years ago.”
“That's right,” K replies.
“I think I told congress that private space companies were a bad idea. But I'll admit it, I was wrong. Just those 1960s biases showing through.”
“You're admitting you were wrong about something?” Marilyn says as she enters with a tray holding four glasses of lemonade. She looks just as old as her husband, but has weathered the years a little better, not needing a wheelchair. Her body has decided it a better strategy to shrink by about five inches and forty pounds to make getting around easier. “Lemonade,” she offers everyone. “Jim?”
“No thank you,” the old man says. Caroline shoots a look to K, mouths the name “Jim,” and her face betrays that her mind is racing through its name database, searching for old men named Jim and not finding a satisfactory result.
