by T I WADE
The brides in the scientists’ weddings wore different dresses. One of the brides selected a miniskirt wedding dress and one wore a full-length dress, much like the pilot brides.
It took seven hours for all of the couples to exchange vows. The guests in the small chapel graciously took turns giving up the pews where they were seated to the close friends of the couple being married.
When not in the chapel, the other ladies were busy helping the brides and the men were in the cafeteria making snacks and baking under the direction of Mr. Rose, and trying hard not to drink the alcohol.
Finally, the ceremonies in the chapel were over. Fritz and Agent Yoon were married last, with Agent Yoon wearing one of the pretty wedding dresses that fit her best, the long civilian dress. The couple did look in love, and their ceremony was over as quickly as the others. For the first time since Agent Yoon, now Warner, had arrived on America One, she was allowed to be as free as everyone else, as long as she stayed with her husband.
The cafeteria was decked out with flowers, and filled with food and gaiety. Ryan gave the first toast. “To all newly married couples, including Mrs. Kathy Richmond and myself, I offer a toast to a long and happy life, and to happiness aboard America One for our journey into space. Each one of you is a valuable asset. We are a fantastic team, and we have only adventure and a life of learning and opportunity ahead of us. Please raise your glasses to our new married couples.” And they all drank the champagne.
“I can get to like this married life. Can we keep the cafeteria dressed up and the amounts of liquid refreshments at this constant level?” asked Jonesy to much applause.
Ryan replied smiling, “No, Mr. Jones. Mrs. Jones, please elbow or kick your husband as you usually do. Suzi and Mr. Rose have a surprise for you, which I‘m told will stop the illegal bootlegging up here. Suzi, Mr. Rose?”
“Thanks to our wondrous leader, and his forward thinking, and social attitudes toward his crew, Mr. Rose and I would like to unveil our latest inventions.” Both Suzi (who had magnetic shoes on again), and Mr. Rose pulled the cover off the table to show the same five-gallon, clear glass bottles VIN had often seen in the restaurant down in Nevada. Two of the bottles held a clear liquid and two of the bottles held a different colored brownish liquid.
“Heaven has reached America One!” shouted Jonesy, throwing his arms above his head.
“Yes, Mr. Jones,” smiled Mr. Rose. “We have our first brews of homemade, or shall I say, space-made beer and potato vodka.”
VIN smiled. He didn’t have to visit Creech anymore on his visits to Earth. Ryan smiled. His odd bottle stashed here and there wouldn’t disappear anymore.
“Yes, this first five-gallon jug is my favorite, Bavarian Weiss beer,” explained Suzi. “It still has the yeast in the bottom and will make all of you into beer lovers. The second one is English bitter ale. We are still working on a lager for you watered-down Budweiser fans. Mr. Jones, we will have it ready in our next batch in a month.”
“This is all we get every month?” Jonesy asked, his face dropping.
“In beer, no, Herr Jones,” replied Suzi, her hands on her hips. “A pint or three per beer lover every week. Once we get up to steam we will be producing ten gallons per week. Kids under 21 years old can’t partake, which means more for the adults aboard. We have a healthy green soda for the youngsters, as well as our famous chocolate milkshakes.” There was a murmur of acceptance from the dozen or so children. “In vodka, this is a three-month supply. Sorry, our captain won’t allow any alcoholics aboard; but remember, we will also be producing ten gallons of wine every other month.”
“Listen, guys,” added Jonesy. “Until our kids grow up, there’s more for us, so don’t think about producing too many kids too quickly.”
Amid laughter VIN responded, “You are just as guilty for increasing our population as we are, Mr. Jones, so don’t admonish us.”
The first real party on board ship went well. The beer was quickly consumed by all aboard, except for one man who kept an eye on Agent Yoon-Warner. He didn’t drink anyway, and Jonesy raised his glass to him and smiled. The vodka was excellent, as good as what they had bootlegged up from Earth. A comparison test was performed by all of the Russians and Jonesy, and the results were favorable. The champagne was enjoyed by the non-pregnant American women, European women, and a few of the pregnant Americans who thought a glass or two would cause no harm to their unborn babies. There were no government warnings on the labels. The bottles had come directly from Europe.
Ryan was quite surprised at how differently pregnant women from the different countries thought about drinking alcohol. Unfortunately, hangovers, mostly affecting males, contributed to the quiet that prevailed aboard ship the next day.
Slowly life got back to normal. SB-III was coming along well, only a day behind schedule, and her old engines were already out of their engine bays and ready to be placed aboard America One. America One’s defunct thruster was also being removed.
Allen Saunders was happy. He was going to do much of the flying over the next couple of months, and looked forward to it. There were daily communications from the Bridge down to Nevada, and Ryan was informed of each day’s arrivals.
By Wednesday, there were already 100 scientists waiting for him; only three dozen had not yet arrived. Lieutenant Walls asked the government contractors to build several extra rooms onto the motel, as it seemed that several scientists had told others in the original crew that there was a reunion with free transportation to Nevada, and several more arrived than had been invited. By the time the shuttles arrived, the team had expanded from 100 to 140. Ryan didn’t mind. Every scientist was needed, and the $190 million in payments and bonuses was coming from the government, money owed. There was enough for everybody without dipping into his Swiss account.
Ten days after the weddings and three days late, Allen Saunders and Jamie Saunders, nee Watkins, silently slipped away from America One in SB-II.
“We have separation,” Jamie stated as they glided through the corridors and away from the mother ship’s infrastructure.
“Roger that,” responded Ryan in America One, and both astronauts heard a similar acknowledgement from the new Nevada Control back in its original place in Hangar One. “Call us on final orbit,” Ryan added. “America One to Nevada Ground, how is your equipment?”
“We have you visual, and will have SB-II visual once she gets a distance away. We will be able to give SB-II basic information from 100,000 feet, but that’s all for now. I hope SB-II is ready, she’s on her own for this one.”
“Roger that,” replied Allen. “We have all the last descents in the computer memories, and we are going to allow them to do the job until we decrease speed down to Mach 2, under 90,000 feet. Computers are working fine. Will keep you posted. Out.”
Twelve hours later, SB-II came out of radio silence at 97,000 feet. Ground Control told the astronauts their height, speed, and distance to target. As usual, the shuttle, with two tons of engines, mechanics, and other equipment aboard, was programmed to stay on the right direction, speed and altitude by the computers.
Ground Control had very little technology compared to what they had used during the first phase, but the computers aboard the shuttles, backed up by the original computers from the original ground control in America One, kept the craft on a perfect descent.
“Weather clear, infinite visibility, temperature 112 degrees,” reported the controller at the airfield. “We have one of your Nellis tractors and bar to tow you back to the hangar. It’s Vietnam hot down here.”
“Is the swimming pool full? I’m looking forward to a toasty Nevada afternoon and a quick dip in the pool,” replied Allen.
“Ground Control, affirmative. We have been warned that your legs might not work with the excessive gravity down here, so we will have four helpers standing by, and wheelchairs to get you to the pool. Over.”
Allen decided to leave the shuttle under computer control. As it had been programmed, it
pulled the nose up a fraction to bleed off speed, and Allen only took over at 71,000 feet over the Nevada line.
“SB-II, 7 miles to target, speed OK, height a little low, try and find 500 feet. Over.”
“Roger that,” replied Allen. “I have the field in sight. It certainly looks different. Co-pilot taking over commands.”
“Five miles to target, leave the brakes in, that could give you the extra height needed,” stated Jamie. She was now in verbal control, giving the pilot any necessary information, not that he really needed it. From five miles out, the pilot was eyeballing the beginning of the tarmac in front of the shuttle and getting her down in one piece.
“One mile to target… wheels going out…… wheels out… 700 yards to target… chute at the ready,” continued Jamie.
“Flaring out now… rear wheels down,” continued Allen. “Front tire going to touch now… OK… Jamie, chute eject now… Houston, we are down. Ground, America One, we are down and slowing. It sure looks like a hot day out there… and I can feel that gravity kissing my butt already. It is really powerful!”
The tractor took a few extra minutes to connect to the shuttle three-quarters of the way down the simmering tarmac. There was not the usual old ambulance and fire truck, and it was still cold inside the cockpit compared to the outside.
The truck managed to reverse the shuttle into one of the smaller hangars, out of the hot afternoon sun. Both pilots tried to climb out of their seats once they had closed down the craft and found that they really had to struggle just to stand up.
Jamie went first. She slipped sideways out of the small side door and was literally carried by the two people who were there to help her. Both pilots were fully suited up with helmets and had been since final orbit two hours earlier.
Jamie couldn’t stand in the weight of her suit and her body felt like she was standing on top of a magnet. Allen was a little stronger, but both astronauts had to be wheeled into the changing room. Their helmets were removed while they sat on a bench and the smell of real Earth dry air was unbelievably strong to both. It was as if they had gone straight down a high mountain and were now right next to the sea.
Rid of their suits they were left in private, while the mechanics were helped out one by one, and the astronauts found the brand new showers built in the hangar’s change room. Struggling to stand, both enjoyed a really powerful, hot shower for the first time in weeks.
Hobbling out of the showers, they found that clothes and two new flight suits had been left for them. Readjustment to Earth’s gravity made them almost feel like they were suffering from hangovers. They dressed slowly, enjoying their first private, tiring moments on Earth as a married couple.
They were whisked over the bright, hot apron towards Hangar One in the two wheelchairs. The sun was like a hot sunlamp, and they had been given hats and sunglasses in case the glare hurt their eyes.
“Wow! I didn’t realize that we were so weak. We worked out every day in the gym up there,” Allen said. He was happy to see Lieutenant Walls again, and a few of the scientists he knew.
“Never been there, General. It’s the same as always for us down here, just a crappy hot day out there,” the lieutenant replied shaking Allen’s hand.
“Not for us. It is absolutely beautiful out there. We can debrief, get some food and a cup of water, and some strong coffee. When the sun goes down, Jamie and I want to be in the pool.”
Ryan smiled at the astronauts’ descriptions of returning to Earth through the communicated briefing. SB-II’s computers relayed the last of the flight’s information to all the other Astermine computers and the crew and astronauts on the Bridge went over the reentry minute by minute. There was little difference from what they anticipated, except that the extremely hot temperatures in the higher atmosphere had been the cause of the height difference.
“Gee, Ryan, I feel like the planet wants to suck me in down here. I’m telling you, drinking a couple of cold beers down here in the pool’s lesser gravity is going to feel like being closer to heaven than you are at the moment up there.”
“I agree,” replied Ryan. “You are making me want to return. By the way, guys, Suzi gave birth to a bouncing baby boy ten minutes ago. Doctor Rogers sent a message saying both mother and baby, named Mars, are doing well.”
“Send her our congratulations, Ryan,” Jamie offered. “Ask Mr. Rose to buy some flowers from the flower shop up there.”
“Tell VIN we will celebrate with a couple of Buds down here in the pool for him,” added Allen.
“Also warn Maggie, Ryan,” continued Jamie. “She must prepare for her entry tomorrow. I’ve already checked. The doctor and nurses are arriving early tomorrow and will be ready when Jonesy flies her in. There is also a fire truck coming in from Nellis, and an ambulance arriving from Tonopah tomorrow just in case. And tell Jonesy the gravity conditions are something Maggie and baby are going to struggle with, and to fly gently.”
“Roger, we both copied that. I’m still seven to eight days out, but my husband will be careful, won’t you, Colonel Jones?” Maggie added over the air.
That night, the astronauts spent hours in the warm pool, enjoying a few beverages and feeling elated to be back on Earth.
The next day, Maggie immediately started to feel contractions as Jonesy touched SB-III down on the tarmac. At 114 degrees with no wind whatsoever, he gently placed the craft down as Maggie pulled the chute ejector.
“I think Jonesy Junior wants to see the action. I need to get out of here,” Maggie said through the cockpit intercom as the side door was opened from outside. She didn’t have a suit on. It didn’t fit her anymore, and it would take time to get her out of it if there was a problem.
The heat wave blasted Maggie inside the craft as the ambulance screamed alongside. Several people helped her from outside while Jonesy helped her extricate her heavy body from inside. He was fully suited up and didn’t notice the temperature change. He shut the side door as the ambulance headed back down the tarmac to the special room set up on base. Jonesy couldn’t see out anymore; the condensation was thick, but he didn’t need to as he closed the shuttle’s systems down.
The shuttle was towed back into a hangar, and the side door opened to allow Jonesy out. A wheelchair was standing at the ready. At the same time twelve wheelchair bearers waited for the crew to exit, one by one out of the side hatch of the cockpit. They exited their crew cabin in the forward cargo hold through the aft cockpit door.
By the time Jonesy and the crew were out of the shuttle, and out of their space suits an hour later, somebody entered the hangar to tell him that he was about to become a father.
A couple of scientists were queued for the male showers, but they let him go first. It was mandatory after space flight. He hurried, was helped to get into fresh clothes, was seated in a wheelchair with a hat and sunglasses, and Sergeant Meyers ran him over to the hotel, where the delivery room had been built. Allen and Jamie were there waiting for him, and ninety minutes later, Colonel John Jones was the proud father of Saturn, a baby girl delivered a week early at five pounds nine ounces.
The baby names had been discussed by the crew and Maggie had decided on “Jupiter” if the baby was a boy and “Saturn” if she was a girl. Suzi and VIN had also decided on “Saturn” for a girl’s name, but had gone for “Mars” as the boy’s name.
Maggie was doing well. She was asleep with little Saturn Jones in a crib next to her, and two nurses in attendance.
Jonesy was wheeled to his room, found the fridge stocked with cold beers, and cracked one for him and one for Sergeant Meyers which they drank thirstily. Then he asked the sergeant—his wheels—to go and find Allen and Jamie, who had already started their own poolside beer party with Bob Mathews and his two female flight crew members. For once in his life Jonesy didn’t have a bad word to say about anything or anybody. Life was great!
The next morning was quiet, the noisy revelers not as noisy, and Maggie and baby were doing well. Michael and Penny broke radio
silence that afternoon. This time it was slightly cloudy and the weather wasn’t as hot at 99 degrees. Michael brought SB-I in as perfectly as the other two had. SB-I had little to no cargo; she was towed into the third hangar, and the team of dozens began opening her up to strip her of unneeded parts. Much of the engine—screws, nuts, and systems—would go into her new engines.
In the massive Hangar Two, five enclosed and separated sections were already up, and scientists and engineers were working in each one manufacturing parts for the new systems. Ryan’s crews worked hard and fast, 24/7.
Twenty-four hours after Michael and Penny had been wheeled to their accommodations, Penny was already back in Hangar One working with Jonesy on the next launch, four days away. He was already walking, although it was tiring, and all the astronauts visited the new gym in Hangar One for at least an hour a day.
One of the flight simulators had returned from space inside the cargo bay on Allen’s shuttle, and was already modified to SB-III flight capabilities. Much of its needed programming was brought down in two extra computers with the crew in SB-III.
The new Pulse launch was purely new territory for everybody, and for the first time Bob Mathews and his girls were in attendance. Igor, the Ground Controls leader from phase one, had returned and was to take over until Ryan arrived.
Jonesy was happy to see Bob Mathews and his crew again. Bob gave his friend a Cuban cigar he said he had purchased in Havana. The Dead Chicken’s crew noticed a change in Colonel Jones. He was quieter and less antagonistic than the old Jonesy had been. The birth of Saturn Jones was certainly having an effect on him.
