A True History - Book Five
Copyright© 2022 by StarFleet Carl
Chapter 22
“Go for throttle up!”
“Roger, go at throttle up,” came from the left front seat.
I turned my head left and looked at Robert Heinlein, sitting in seat three. I toggled the between crew communications link. “What do you think, Bob?”
“I’ll let you know when this elephant gets off my chest!” he managed to reply.
I laughed and said, “Don’t worry, it won’t be too much longer.”
“I don’t care, this is worth it!” he exclaimed back.
I’d arrived in Florida late Sunday evening, after the Super Bowl. After a quick night’s sleep in the VIP guest quarters, I’d done a tour of the shuttle on the launch pad with Eileen Barnum driving one of NASA’s vehicles.
“Challenger looks like she’s ready to fly,” I said.
Eileen smiled and said, “She is. This is her first flight after having all her tiles removed, her body coated with Resist Heat, and then all her tiles reapplied, and then those were coated with Resist Heat as well. The amount of tile damage from removal and then reapplication was negligible. The ones that were damaged and replaced all had four coats put on them, to match what was already on the shuttle, then the whole spacecraft had four more coats put on her.”
“No concern about it being wasteful or overkill from the bean counters?”
She shook her head. “None in the least, that’ve made it to my ears, anyway. We found out in after action reports from when we almost lost Challenger last April that we could’ve lost Discovery last January. The SRB O-rings couldn’t handle the temperature change from freezing or near freezing at launch with the heat from the exhaust gases. That’s in addition to the design flaw in the way the booster sections were joined. This’ll be the first launch with treated O-rings, where they’ve had both Ice-X and Resist Heat applied to them. According to Virginia Valenzuela, they’ll handle the thermal shock just fine.”
I nodded. “Amazing how, when you actually find out you almost lost a ship, that the standards for engineering go up, isn’t it?”
“Even better when you didn’t lose faith and fire me.”
“You’re welcome. You figured out that success-oriented management, where basically you’re hoping for the best outcome at all times, is neither intelligent nor realistic. One of my instructors at Stanford called it the ‘ostrich syndrome.’ You stick your head in the sand to hide from problems, and hope you’re successful.”
She snorted and replied, “I’ve never heard it called that. But I’m not a manager. I’m an engineer that happens to be in a manager’s job.”
I nodded slightly and said, “Which is what this program needs. Changing the subject a little, how’s it been working with Bob?”
“Mister Heinlein is ... quite the taskmaster. I only hope I have half his energy when I’m seventy-eight years old. Challenger has some test parts in her bay, just for confirmation of the assembly process. We’ll be ready to start launching the first shuttles containing standardized space station parts in late May. We should be able to get one shuttle up every other month with more pretty much indefinitely, and that schedule will only get better once our two new ships and the Soviet’s Buran are finished. In addition, we’re also working on simple cargo rockets as well – sending just parts up, once we get a viable crew area constructed and have people living there full time.”
I smiled as I finished using my vision to examine the boosters and said, “Well, I should have something to help along those lines by the end of the year. We’ll have to see. We’re good out here, thank you for bringing me out.”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. Michael Mendoza jokingly asked Mister Heinlein a question about you the other day in our meeting and then was just speechless for a solid five minutes after his answer. It was about how many letters you’ve managed to get behind your name, because we all remember our first meeting with you.”
“I just have nine letters. BS, MS, PhD, and MD,” I said.
She stopped the car in front of the control building, but didn’t open the door. “But how many times do you have each of those letter groups?”
“Okay. Realizing that I’ve replaced seven of them with something higher, so those aren’t included, twenty-four.”
“That’s why Michael just froze. That means you’ve earned thirty-one degrees in the past year, including passing Medical School! Do you have any idea how significant, as well as impossible, that is?”
I shrugged and simply said, “I’m sure you’ve heard this label applied to me before, Eileen. I’m the Guardian of the Earth. I knew it when I was here the last time Challenger went up. I did not know it the previous December. All I really knew was that I was smarter than anyone I’d ever met. January, yeah, but I was in California by then. Now, what that means ... Hell if I know. It just means that when Bob and I go up in the shuttle tomorrow afternoon, and then come down after we’ve watched Earth Defender hit Halley’s Comet, that whatever the result of that collision is, I’m still in charge of dealing with that millennia old alien asshole up there.”
“Jesus!” She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again. “If it weren’t for knowing what we do know now about the SRB failures, which means we’d have lost a shuttle, her crew, and totally fucked space exploration, I almost wish we’d never been visited by aliens.”
“Um, I’m guessing Bob hasn’t told you that pretty much everyone on Earth is descended from alien colonists from more than a quarter million years ago, then. At least, those that weren’t planted here as feed stock for a different alien race.”
She sighed. “He has. For the record, I’m not happy with that knowledge, in the least.”
“And now you know why President Mondale hasn’t released it for general distribution around the world. Some world leaders, and a few other people, know it, of course. Oh, well. Let’s go in, so I can meet the team that’s going up with me.”
We did. She introduced me to three men with the same rank, albeit different branches. US Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Dick Scobee would be the shuttle commander, with US Navy Commander Michael Smith as the pilot. Finally, US Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Ellison Onizuka was the mission specialist, in charge of deployment and recovery of the telescope. Bob was already in the room.
“Thank you, Eileen. Now, unfortunately, I have to ask you to leave. You’re still on the civilian side of things, and while this isn’t exactly a Department of Defense mission, it’s got a hell of a lot higher classification than that,” I said.
She smiled and said, “So I’ve been told by Mister Heinlein. Considering he’s got a direct line to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, I’m not arguing with either of you.” She shut the door on the way out.
I glanced around the room using my vision, to make sure we actually were relatively secure, then said, “Well, I’m sure the three of you have some questions.”
The three men looked at each other, then Scobee nodded and said, “Just one for now, Your Majesty. Are we going to be on the shuttle when it lands?”
“Well, I’d certainly hope so. I’m quite certain Bob doesn’t know how to land one, and the only thing I have experience landing is a two-seater at TOPGUN,” I said. “Oh, and I’m Cal, unless I have to pull rank for some reason. Otherwise, you’re in charge, of course.”
“Thank you. The reason I asked is, this is almost ridiculous on the face of it, so far as a mission is concerned. Yes, we know about the rocket with nukes that was launched from Vandenberg. It makes sense to have a telescope to record what happens when they go off. But we could do that as a regular and routine mission. And this is not a DOD one, because we’re not putting a satellite into orbit like they do on those,” Scobee said.
“Fair enough. I bet you’re wondering why you have a seventeen year old and a seventy-eight year old going along, too,” I said with a grin.
“Yeah, sort of. We all met Mister Heinlein when you were here for the last launch of Challenger, and were part of the audience at your speech. We all know Bob Overmyer and Fred Gregory, too.” He grinned, then, and said, “I think we would’ve liked to have been at the combination birthday and Fourth of July Party you had. Bob said it took him three days to sober up.”
“I think he was good after two, but that’s from a legal perspective, and not from being able to actually fly again,” I said.
Onizuka said, “That’s the polite way of saying we’re all well aware of who you are. What you did regarding Princess Owana, of course, has totally changed my home and how we see ourselves – native Hawaiians – too. What you told Larry Mehau is now legendary around the islands. No one – and I mean no one – has ever talked to him that way. And he was perfectly fine with it, too!”
“Yeah, I was ... um ... yeah, a little unsettled that day, after Pearl and the Punchbowl. Especially after the meeting I had with Admiral Foley. It was a little disturbing to find out I was the subject of a Presidential briefing.”
Michael Smith raised an eyebrow at that. “Former Commander, Pacific Fleet? Retired this past fall? That Foley?”
“As opposed to Gunnery Sergeant Foley or Detective Axel Foley? Yeah. I presume you’re a bit more aware of the ranking officers in the Navy than your compatriots here, due to the difference in branches. Although, I didn’t know he’d retired. In any event, that’s pretty much the security level we’re talking about for this mission. You’re correct, it’s not a DOD mission. It’s an FTN mission.”
“A Federation of Terran Nations mission?”
“That’s correct, Colonel Scobee. I’m not here as the King of the Punjab, I’m here as the Spatial Defense Minister. Tell me, have any of you heard rumors regarding the launch of the Earth Defender?” I asked.
The three men looked at each other, shrugged, then Scobee said, “Other than what we saw on the news, no. You were there, completely messed over the minds of those college kids, and then had a news conference with President Reagan the next day where you announced a cure for AIDS.”
I turned to Bob and asked, “You mean they actually kept it quiet?”
“Misinformation. Vandenberg is an Air Force Base, whereas the Kennedy Space Center is NASA and thus civilian, while Canaveral is military. So they can give orders and you can hide things in plain sight there that we couldn’t do here. The difference in the way things are run is one of the things I’ve been dealing with, albeit not with such finality as you did.”
“I swear, you kill one European Space Agency spy, and you get such a reputation.” I was carefully watching the three astronauts when I said that, and their shocked reactions were genuine. “Colonel Scobee, why did you ask if you were going to be on the shuttle when it landed?”
“We were concerned you were going to order me to put the ship on an intercept course with the comet, even though we wouldn’t have enough supplies to make it, or to live that long. We know you’re the Guardian of the Earth, and one of the scenarios we came up with in our private discussions was that we were doing a kamikaze mission.”
I shook my head. “Nope. However, we will be landing at Vandenberg when this is done, and the three of you will be placed on TDY to Vandenberg, and will remain there until after the middle of March. There are some things that are secret that have to remain that way until then, if for no other reason than to avoid panic among the general population. As Admiral Foley said when we had our meeting, there are security clearances, and then there are security clearances. This one is somewhere along the lines of: I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you first. Of course, that won’t apply after we’re in orbit and we’ve got the telescope deployed.”
“I think we can handle that,” Scobee replied.
They did, too. I had to get a quick fitting for a launch helmet and suit, which caused Bob and I to exchange amused looks. During the afternoon, he took me around to meet the new people that had come on board for the space station construction, and showed me some of the modules and the assembly process that had been developed for them. That evening, there was a dinner where Bob was awarded a plaque for being the oldest person to ever go into space, while I was given one for being the youngest.
The next morning, we got up, had a breakfast of steak and eggs, then started getting ready. Something Bob had changed was liftoff times for all shuttles, especially during this time of year. It got well below freezing overnight, and while that wouldn’t affect the shuttle, it might affect some of the systems in the gantry. So, we wouldn’t even load into the crew compartment until noon, to give things enough time to warm up.
Three and a half hours later, I got to experience my second rocket launch as a passenger. At least this one I was conscious for, and not drugged with medicines to lower my metabolism.
Once the shuttle reached orbit, Colonel Scobee said, “Gentlemen, welcome to Earth orbit. You have permission to get out of your seats, remove your launch suits, stow them, and then we’ll start getting things deployed.”
“Aye, aye, Sir!” Bob said.
I chuckled and said, “You can take the science fiction writer out of the Navy, but you can’t take the Navy out of the science fiction writer.”
Bob looked at me and said, “Captain Scobee is the Commanding Officer of this spacecraft.”
“Uh, Mister Heinlein, I’m a Lieutenant Colonel,” Scobee said.
Smith shook his head. “You’re the CO, so for this voyage, so you’re Captain of the Challenger. That’s in keeping with the whole Federation Space Force rank structure, which if I understand it correctly, is going to be based on a combination of US Navy ranks and ‘Star Trek’ stuff.”
“Commander Smith, I’m just curious where you heard that,” I asked as I slipped out of my outfit and helped Bob with his.
“I was on the Kitty Hawk, flew Intruders over Vietnam, and then went to test pilot school at Patuxent with Bill Cowans. We’ve stayed in touch. You really buzzed the tower at Miramar in a 747?”
“I was just sitting in the jump seat, not actually pilot-in-command. But otherwise, yeah,” I said with a grin. “Sometimes, you don’t even have to pull rank, you just mention it.”
Floating up from where he’d been during the launch, Onizuka asked, “If you’re not here as a King, then how does being Spatial Defense Minister equate to our rank structure and chain of command?”
As we stowed the seats and gear so they’d be out of the way and give us more room during our stay in orbit, I explained, with Bob throwing in a few other comments along the way. When that was done, I shrugged.
“Like I said, Guardian of the Earth.”
We spent the rest of the day getting things changed out and situated for our time in orbit. While deploying and using the telescope was the primary mission, there were some of the basic components for a space station in the cargo bay. That way we could spend a couple of days playing with them and seeing how difficult they’d be to assemble in zero gravity.
All three astronauts got to play around in space suits over the next three days, while they tried assembling the six components in the ring together. One of the reasons Bob wanted this attempted now was because NASA always spent a tremendous amount of time in swimming pools training people to do one job. He wanted to see how tough it was for untrained people to do it, using parts that were designed to slide together and then get bolted into place.
By Friday evening, they’d finished putting everything together, and were resting inside while eating supper.
Scobee asked, “So, how’d we do, Mister Heinlein?”
Bob laughed and replied, “Congratulations, you’re now the only three qualified space station assemblers we have. Seriously, you did exactly what I needed to know. That was whether it was really necessary to have the construction workers be highly trained astronauts, or if we could simply use workers that are already used to doing construction work in hazardous environments do the job.”
“Like Navy deep sea divers and underwater oil rig people,” Smith said.
“Yes, that’ll be the first trained pool of people I’ll look at. Although even experienced recreational divers should work. They’re already used to dealing with environments where there’s no real up. Have the three of you read my short story, ‘Gentlemen, Be Seated’? I know Cal has, of course.”
Onizuka shook his head, so Bob explained, “To make a short story long, there’s a tunnel being built on Luna. They pressurize each section as it’s complete, using a movable and airtight cofferdam. In the story, three men are trapped in a newly constructed section that has a slow leak and they solve the problem of sealing the leak by literally sitting on it. You may have noticed that each piece you assembled had a slight curve to it, in addition to the fittings where it made a complete circle. Our plans are, once we get enough sections assembled, to install bulkheads and pressurize that compartment. Additional sections will be fitted to each end, with movable cofferdams and leak solutions like the balloons from my story during the construction phase, and then other, permanent bulkheads as needed, to increase the living space. Once this is complete, we’ll have the outer wheel that can then have center spokes come together in what will be, courtesy of magnetic bearings, a stationary central bay while the remainder of the wheel rotates to provide some simulated gravity.”
“So, something similar to the wheel from ‘2001’?”
I shook my head. “No, Colonel Smith. More like one of those two handled abdomen exercise wheels. I don’t know if Eileen still has the original drawing I made when I first met the team at Kennedy or not...”
“She does,” Bob said. “That particular whiteboard has been covered with a sheet of clear acetate, so no one can accidentally erase it. It’s the basis of our space dock design. I think they plan on putting it in a museum at some point.”
I shook my head and then ran a hand through my hair. “That seems a little extreme.”
“From her perspective, not really. With everything you’ve done for NASA, she’s almost in the same category as your Indian wives regarding your deification.”
“I have to put up with that from them. I’m not going to tolerate it from her.”
He chuckled as he said, “She’s not the only one, you know. I’ve had a chance to talk to President Reagan on more than one occasion. Your little stunt at Vandenberg shook him to his very core.”
“Fine, whatever. The only one who thinks he’s a god is in the spaceship that’s embedded in Halley’s Comet. We’ll need to get the telescope deployed tomorrow, so it’ll have time to settle down. Then I can see what happens when a dozen nukes go off in his face.”
“Um, Mister Lewis? Are we going to be maneuvering to avoid the section we just spent three days putting together?” Scobee asked. “Otherwise, it’s too close to the shuttle bay for us to deploy the arm to put the telescope into a stable position.”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t want to leave it in orbit. Bob, what was your plan with it?” I asked.
He snickered. “I wanted to find out how quickly it could be put together by people wearing space suits. You may as well take it apart and put it back into the shuttle bay, so we can use these pieces later.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll do that after we’re done eating.”
That got me looks from all three astronauts.
“You know how I said you’d find out about the whole security clearance thing after we got the telescope deployed?”
Scobee nodded.
“It’s going to be a little earlier than that.” I keyed my headset. “Mission Control, this is Challenger, Federation Three actual, over.”
“Federation Three actual, this is Mission Control, go ahead.”
“Mission Control, Challenger is going dark at this time. My authorization.”
“Uh, copy that, Federation Three actual. Terminating all telemetry links with Challenger at this time. We’ll be monitoring frequencies for your signal.”
“Copy that. We’ll be in touch before we begin our deorbit burn. Challenger, out.”
Scobee braced himself in the near zero-gravity against a bulkhead and crossed him arms. “I’d appreciate an explanation, Mister Lewis.”
“Pahto, are you monitoring things up here now?” I asked aloud.
She replied through the cabin speakers. “Of course, Commander. Houston has actually followed your orders. Even the medical department has turned off their monitoring of your individual leads. You’re dark, as far as normal communications are concerned.”
I could see confusion at hearing the female voice through the speakers. “Oh, I’m so sorry, gentlemen. I haven’t introduced you. Gentlemen, the voice you’re hearing is that of Pahto. She’s the pilot of an interstellar spacecraft that crash landed after being shot down by planetary defense units tens of thousands of years ago. She’s also not using normal radio communications channels to speak with us.”
“Oh, definitely not. I’m using encrypted communication signals that I’m sending directly to the shuttle using a variety of military and civilian satellites that they don’t even know I’m using,” she said. “I’m actually quite surprised that word about either Mycroft or myself hasn’t spread, at least as rumors.”
“Hang on,” Onizuka said. “Drone robots that are controlled by computers? I read an article about how those had shown up at the Intel lab.”
“Ah, yes. Those were some of our early remotes, of course. We’re now several generations beyond those at this point. That’s why we were able to assist in constructing the payload of Earth Defender. Cal had even originally planned on bringing one of them along for this mission, but we changed plans after further discussion. The current bodies we have simply are incapable of operating properly in low gravity due to limits in existing technology. In any event, I do look forward to working with all three of you in the future, after the recovery from whatever devastation there is due to Shiva’s visit, and humanity reclaims the stars.”
Scobee shook his head too fast, and had to stabilize himself. “Reclaims the stars?”
“Of course, Captain Scobee,” Bob said. “We didn’t originate on Earth; we were placed there a long, long time ago. Up here and out there?” Bob pointed through a window at the stars. “That’s where we came from. That’s where we belong. Oh, there’ll always be people who live their lives on planets. But knowing that there are others out there that don’t – that live in ships like Pahto, exploring the mysteries of space and helping to link us all together – is what we’re building the foundation for right now. Which is also why Cal needs to finish eating so he can take that apart and put it back in the cargo bay.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch. I swear, I think you’d complain if they hung you with a new rope,” I said with a smile.
Bob laughed and said, “They can’t hang me. I’m already hung.”
That brought laughs from the three astronauts.
“High school locker room humor, at its finest,” Mike Smith said.
“Yep. Of course, since I was in high school not that long ago, it does sort of fit. Anyway, let me take a look at what you guys put together.” I floated to the back of the crew compartment and looked out the window. “Very nice design, Bob. Six bolts on each section, with interlocking tabs, so twelve bolts holding each section to the next, with airtight gaskets that slide into place and are then compressed as the bolts are tightened on each section.”
“Thanks. I can’t take credit for it, it came from something the Japanese were working on for their space program. Granted, not quite on this large of a scale, but they were quick to modify their design at my request. Funny story about that. It seems they’d presented it to the ESA, to work together with them, and the ESA representative told them it would never work. And that’s without even trying to test it. Then not only did you fire him – which meant the JSA was happy with you – but then later on you killed him, so they’re very happy with you. You’ve redeemed their honor.”
He snorted. “Hell of a note. Please don’t take this personally, Colonel Onizuka, but it wasn’t that long ago I was working to help kill a lot of Japanese.”
Ellison nodded and said, “I understand, Mister Heinlein. While my Master’s is in aerospace engineering, I’ve been an Air Force Officer for over sixteen years. I didn’t see combat like Mike and Dick did, but I trained pilots and systems engineers for that job, because we were enemies with the Soviet Union. Hell, after this flight is over, I’m scheduled to go to Baikonur and work with their engineers on the Buran. This isn’t the world any of us were born into, not anymore.”
Then he looked out the window, where I was rotating the completed section, removing the bolts and storing them in their containers, and then floating the removed pieces back into place in the cargo bay.
“What the fuck?”
That got the attention of the other two members of Challenger’s crew.
Smith breathed out, “Holy shit!” while Scobee just stared at me.
I smiled and said, “Welcome to Top Secret ‘whatever the hell the code word is’ access, because I don’t think anyone’s ever told me. I would guess ‘Guardian,’ but that’s rather obvious.”
“How the hell are you doing that?” Onizuka asked.
Bob snorted and said, “It’s Guardian shit. Oh, and I don’t know what the secondary code word is, either. Since I work for you, no one in the US government gives me any grief about anything I ask about.”
“Guardian shit?” Scobee carefully asked.
“Yeah. Abilities that I didn’t know I had until they started to manifest shortly before the Messenger from Above showed up. We’ve pretty much figured out that the reason that bastard left is because I’m actually stronger than him.”
“Does that mean you could go outside – now – without a pressure suit?” Scobee asked with a puzzled look.
I chuckled. “That’s why I was so surprised that security at Vandenberg held tight. You know they launched a modified Saturn V from there. What you don’t know is that I rode the damned thing up until first stage separation because one of the Long March boosters was a shade too powerful, and throwing things off just a hair. Then after separation, I brought the first stage back down. In one piece, and put it in a parking lot.” I pulled out the little mask that I’d picked up at Area 51.
“A nice little piece of tech, courtesy of the mad scientists at Groom Lake. Gives me a bit of air, plus allows me to maintain radio communication. They’d been working on it as something to allow access into rooms after a Halon fire suppression system went off. Of course, the minor detail that those were to be deliberate activations, because it was for spies and saboteurs, is beside the point. They had actual alien tech there, too, but the only aliens they had were water lorquats. Unrelated, if you stick a water lorquat into a really large source of water, they can grow really big. As in, Loch Ness monster size.”
“Um...” Scobee started, then stopped.
“Oh, how do I know they’re called water lorquats? I’m not the only Guardian. Three young ladies have souls living within them of women who died fighting Shiva the last time he was here, and they were from his home world. That’s why I really wonder about the Messenger from Above. I mean, his ‘Angels’ are real, just like he is, but it bothers me that the Galactic Council he’s supposed to represent would act like they have towards us.”
Pahto spoke up then. “We’ve never really discussed the details of the Confederation that built and created me. It’s possible – actually, due to the length of time, probable – that it no longer exists. Otherwise, Earth would have been visited again at some point by more ships of ours other than the few that attempted rescue. I suspect, although I cannot prove, that the race that gave me false information on the defensive codes here – what you refer to as Neanderthals – may have been so hostile they went to war with the Confederation. If so, and it spread towards the Core, there may not be anyone in the near neighborhood.”
I frowned, then used the clamps to lock another piece down in the bay, before asking, “If that’s the case, how does that explain the Messenger, plus the actual probes that have caused assorted issues here on Earth, and even the ones sitting at Area 51?”
“You’ll note that he said there was someone left who was monitoring things here. We had to take him at his word on that. What if there wasn’t? What if it was simply he and the ‘Angels?’ His precepts here weren’t because he was from a monitoring civilization. It’s because he was from a group of survivors, simply looking for a place to live. Who knows how long he lived here before he actually showed himself? What if it were all a ploy, not to take over the world, but simply to have a world to live on?” Pahto asked.
Smith snorted and said, “That sounds like the plot from ‘Battlestar Galactica.”
I shook my head and replied, “No, that actually makes sense. He was public. But he’s just one man. His ‘Angels’ have some, but not all, of the abilities he has. He’s the protector of the survivors of his people. If there were only a few thousand of them, they’d be looking for someplace to live. Pahto has already told me how few and far between planets are out this way, at least ones we can live on. He ran to go try and find someplace else for his people to live if I failed, and the ‘Angels’ remaining here are a triple safety factor. If I beat Shiva, great, one of them can fly out and find him, to let him know it’s safe and maybe we can all work together. If Shiva beats me, then hopefully one of them will survive to let him know it’s not safe, and they go find someplace else to live.”
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