Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

“Cessna 381TM, taxi 16, squawk
1200, maintain at or below four thousand feet,” came the reply.

Bob repeated the instructions word
for word then eased forward on the throttle to get the Skyhawk rolling. Jeff
carefully followed Bob’s every action and listened intensely, thinking to
himself, there’s a lot to this.

Bob taxied along the ramp to the
end of the runway, stopped short and set the parking brake. “Cabin doors closed
and latched, fuel select to both, flight controls free and clear, throttle to
1,700 RPM, mixture rich, magnetos – check, carb heat – check, throttle to 1,000
RPM, instruments – check, flaps up and carb heat cold.

“Quonset tower, Cessna 381TM
holding short 16, ready for takeoff.”

“Cessna 381TM, cleared for takeoff
runway 16, after departure turn to 18 and maintain.”

“Cleared for takeoff 16, turn to 18
and maintain, 381TM.”

Bob released the brake and again eased
the throttle forward. He turned right, got the plane lined up down the center
of the runway and pressed the throttle all the way forward. The Lycoming wound
up and the Cessna began to accelerate. When the airspeed indicator showed 55
knots, Bob eased back on the control yoke promptly lifting the nose wheel off
the ground, and a moment later they were airborne.

Jeff was giddy, “What a rush! Why
didn’t I do this years ago?”

Bob turned due south and leveled
off at 3,000 feet. In 15 minutes they were over the south end of Conanicut
Island and Bob banked left toward Aquidneck Island. “Well, here you are.
Where’s your house?”

Jeff looked down and located the
Newport Country Club, then followed Ocean Boulevard a short way east to Goose
Neck Cove. “Right there, on the bluff. Up above the cove.”

Bob followed Jeff’s finger, “Wow.
Nice house.”

“Yeah, I like it.”

“Okay, well, where to now?”

“You’re flying, you choose. I’m
just here to learn something.”

Bob turned southeast and headed out
over the Rhode Island Sound toward Martha’s Vineyard.

After an hour of sightseeing up and down the New
England coast, they flew up the west side of Narragansett Bay and banked right
heading toward the airport.

“Okay Jeff, now comes the fun part.
Mixture to rich, carb heat on, fuel select to both, flaps down and throttle
back to 60 knots.

“Quonset tower, Cessna 381TM on
approach 16, 1800 at the outer marker.”

“Cessna 1TM cleared to land 16.”

“Cleared to land 16, 1TM.

“Alright Jeff, we’re cleared to
land, descending at a leisurely 300 feet per minute and about six minutes out.”

Jeff strained to see the runway
ahead of them but couldn’t make it out. He hoped Bob knew where he was going.
“What’s the ‘outer marker’?”

“It’s a radio beacon six miles from
the end of the runway that provides range and bearing information, primarily
used for instrument landings. In this plane, using it as a landing reference
makes things real easy. At 60 knots you’re traveling one nautical mile a
minute. The airport’s only eighteen feet above sea level so, for all practical
purposes, zero. So if you’re at 1,800 feet MSL – mean sea level – over the
outer marker lined up with the runway and descending at 300 feet per minute,
you should be right on the money.”

“Gotcha.”

“Now, under Visual Flight Rules –
VFR – some might call that cheating, but what the hell. If you can look out the
window and know where the outer marker is, I think that’s splitting hairs.
Still, a lot of small fields have no navigational beacons, so you’ll learn to
do it by eye as well. But today we’ll do it the easy way.”

Jeff grinned, “Okay by me. Easy is
good.” He finally saw the airport ahead, it looked like they were trying to
land on a pinhead. But, as they approached it got larger and larger.

“Okay, now we already have
permission to land so no further communications required with the tower. And
here we go. Over the end of the runway, pull back just a bit on the yoke to put
us in level flight a couple feet over the runway, cut the throttle and…
touchdown. Nothin’ to it.”

Jeff laughed, “Easy for you to
say.” He scheduled all the flight time both he and Bob could accommodate and
headed back to Newport exhilarated. Flying was a thrill and he anxiously looked
forward to more.

Wednesday, June 20,
2012 (T minus 1371 days)

“Mr. Grey? Paul Andovar, pleased to
meet you. Come on in. Can I get you anything? Coffee, soft drink?”

“No thank you, I’m good.” Jeff took
a seat in the ILC Dover Marketing Director’s office. He was tired after the
six-hour drive from Newport and glad to be sitting in something other than the
car.

“If your goal on the phone was to
pique my curiosity, it worked. What can I do for you?”

“Well, Paul, I’ll get right to the
point. I am financing a manned mission to Mars. Crew launch is tentatively
scheduled for March 2016, and I have a rather lengthy shopping list. Thought
you folks might be able to help me.”

Paul sat in stunned silence for a
moment then cracked a wry smile, “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. This is no joke.
It’s time for this to be done. We have the means, all it takes is money and
desire. No one else seems interested, so I’m gonna do it.”

“Okay. Just for argument’s sake,
how
are you going to do it?”

“We go tested and proven,
off-the-shelf, commercially available all the way. We go light, we go small, we
go simple. Nothing fancy, nothing to be invented, no R&D. We take what
exists and make it work. We launch lightweight compact loads and land
lightweight compact loads, and we assemble in orbit or on the surface as
necessary. It’s not foolproof, it is high risk, but it can be done.

“But here’s the deal, since this is
an entirely commercial venture, I’m not looking for subcontractors who are only
interested in making a buck. I’m not NASA. I’m looking for partners. Not
necessarily the financial kind but let’s say, fellow enthusiasts. I’m looking
for folks who want to see this happen as much as I do.”

 “Well, I’m not going to argue with
you. I think you’re right, it is possible. I think the odds of success are
pretty remote, but it is possible.” Paul leaned forward on his desk and rubbed
his chin. “I’m going to need to talk to some people. And I’m going to need
details. What exactly is your plan?”

For the next half hour Jeff went
over the entire plan from crew training and cargo launch through surface
exploration and the return voyage, leaving out only the part about a child to
be born on the planet. No point in overly complicating things at this juncture.

Paul sat back and shook his head,
“I’ll be damned. It’s so simple, it’s perverse. The government know about this
yet?”

“No.”

“Oh boy, they’re gonna have a lot
of questions. I don’t envy you that.”

“We’ll just take it as it comes.”

“Honestly, it’s a hell of an idea
and I think you’ve got the right approach. I have serious doubts that it can be
done, but I’m on your side. Truthfully, there are a lot of people in the
aerospace industry – and I’m one of them – that have long hoped somebody would
step forward and do this. If you succeed, you’ll open a whole new chapter on
space travel. Give me a couple days, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Fair enough.”

As he drove back to Newport, Jeff
was cautiously optimistic. The meeting had not gone at all as he’d imagined. He
had hoped to get into the production facilities and actually see some hardware.
But he understood Paul’s hesitance. This might not be so easy. Still, Paul
hadn’t fallen on the floor laughing and had Jeff tossed out of the building.
That was encouraging.

The next morning Dr. Loewen from
SRT called back. “Mr. Grey, I’ve talked the idea over with a few of my
colleagues here and we’re interested. Frankly, excited. It’s a fantastic idea
and a huge opportunity for us.”

“That’s great! Alright. There’s a
Kawasaki dealership near you, I’ll arrange to have a Mule delivered wherever
you want, and I’ll fax you a brief outline of what I have in mind. After you’ve
had a look at the critter and thought about it for a bit, let me know what your
budget needs are and I’ll wire you whatever you need. Just remember, 18 months
to launch and, obviously, it’ll have to be ready long before then.”

“Right. This will take some doing
but I think it’s plausible. One question, how do you plan on landing this?”

“Just like the Mars Science Lab. So
it’ll need to be fueled and ready to drive away on touchdown.”

“Understood. Alright, send me what
you have, we’ll take a look and get back to you as soon as we can, probably a
week or two.”

“Sounds good. Thanks Dr. Loewen. I
look forward to hearing from you soon.”

Jeff was ecstatic. This was a huge
step. Having SRT onboard would lend the project considerable credibility and
the Mule – if it worked – would establish a low-cost, functional baseline for
many other systems that would follow.

Jeff decided he couldn’t wait any
longer. He needed two things and he needed them quick: a plane and Abby.

“Abby? Hi, Jeff.”

“Hi! I was going to call you this
afternoon. I’m all set. I was planning on flying out tomorrow.”

“Excellent. However, change of
plans.”

“Huh?”

“Instead of coming to Providence, I
want you to meet me in Wichita.”

“Wichita?”

“Yeah, Mid-Continent Airport, the
Cessna plant. And bring your log book.”

“Uh oh. What did you buy?”

“Nothing yet, but there’s a CJ3
there that I want us to look at. Low hours, decent price, looks nice. You are
current for the CJ3, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. But here’s the bad news.
The only flight that’ll get you there on time is on American, leaves LAX at
6:10 am, connects through Dallas, and puts you into Wichita at 1:25. I’ll make
the reservation, you figure out how to make the flight.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’m really looking forward to
having you back. I can sure use some help.”

“And I’m looking forward to being
back. Say, have you heard from Gabe?”

“Nope. Not a word.”

“Hmmm. Sure hope she comes back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow
in Wichita.”

“Right. Take care.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Jeff thought he’d surprise her and
neglected to mention they’d be on the same connecting flight from Dallas. He
liked surprises.

Friday morning Jeff was up at 2:00
am to make the hour and a half drive up to Boston for a 6:00 flight. Going to
bed the night before hardly seemed worth it. Having his own plane would solve
that problem once and for all.

Jeff arrived in Dallas a bit past
9:30 am and immediately headed for T.G.I. Friday’s in the concourse. He was
starving and had two hours to kill before Abby arrived. He figured Abby would
probably be hungry and there wouldn’t be enough time before their connecting
flight departed for her to eat, so he had a club sandwich and basket of fries
made up to go and headed for the departure gate.

Abby walked right by him on her way
to the check-in counter.

“Hey! Aren’t you even gonna say
hi?”

She snapped around toward him, “Ah,
jeez. What are you doing here?”

“Same connecting flight.”

She trotted up and gave him a hug,
“Great to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. Hungry?”

“Famished.”

He handed her the bag. “Club
sandwich and fries do?”

“Oh my god! You’re a very good man,
I don’t care what they say.”

“Here, have a seat and eat. You
don’t need to check in, they’ll call us first. You have a good flight?”

“Yeah,” not bothering to stand on
ceremony and speaking with a mouthful of sandwich, “and while we’re on the
subject, you’ve got to stop flying me first class, I’m getting spoiled.”

Jeff grinned, “Comes with the job.”

“So tell me about this plane.”

“It’s a 2007, factory stock from
what I’m told. About 700 hours on both engines, all records, maintenance
program… the usual. It’s for sale or available on a 12-month lease with option
to buy.”

“What’s it doing in Wichita?”

“New paint and a maintenance
check.”

“They’re having it painted just
before selling it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice of them. How much?”

“Five million.”

“Sounds about right. Who owns it?”

“Some investment bank that took
TARP money a few years back and now has Uncle Sam climbing all over them to cut
out the frills.”

“Jeez. That stuff still going on?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“They gonna let us fly it?”

“All arranged. Their pilot will be
there and their CFO, who has authority to close the deal.”

“So if we like it we can fly it
home?”

“You got it.”

“Cool. You ever fly in a Citation?”

“No, but I’m sure looking forward
to it.”

“Nice aircraft. Comfortable,
reliable, easy to fly, and the CJ3 is single pilot certified, so once you get
licensed and rated you can fly it, and you won’t need me to chauffer you
around.”

“Hey, I like having you chauffer me
around. It’s dignified.”

Abby laughed, “Dignified for you
maybe. Remember where you found me?”

“Oh yeah. You’ll pardon me for
saying so, but that was funny. You had that girl out front at the counter
absolutely terrified.”

“Oh, that was Jean. I terrified her
just walking in the building.”

Jeff chuckled. “Anyway, I’m well on
my way. Started flight lessons on Monday. Already have a whole two and a half
hours in my log book.”

“Hey, good for you. How do you like
it?”

“It’s fun. A little unnerving, but
fun. Looking forward to getting past the basics and actually flying the thing.”