Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (26 page)

JPL PAO: “We are decelerating.”

Gabe grabbed Jeff’s arm and
squeezed, tightly.

JPL PAO: “Heat shield has
separated. We’re down to 90 meters per second, six kilometers altitude.”

“78 seconds,” said Gabe.

JPL PAO: “Standing by for backshell
separation.”

“Oh god, here it comes!”

JPL PAO: “We are in powered
flight.”

“It’s working! 40 seconds.”

JPL PAO: “Standing by for Skycrane…
Skycrane is starting.”

“13 seconds!”

JPL PAO: “Touchdown confirmed,
proceed with flyaway.”

They all leaped from their seats
clapping, screaming, and yelling. Jeff grabbed Gabe’s arm, spun her toward him,
wrapped his arms around her waist, and gave her a big sloppy kiss. After a
moment, their lips parted and Jeff, grinning broadly, yelled, “We did it!”

Gabe returned a sheepish grin. “Um,
actually, JPL did it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He glanced around
the room at the others. “Boys and girls, we’re in business! Sue, where’s that
champagne?”

Saturday, August 25,
2012 (T-1305 days)

“So we’ve got two choices,” said
Gabe as she laid out several drawings on the table in Jeff’s office. “Actually,
a lot more than two, but these seem to be the best in terms of mass to volume
ratio, lift/drag ratio, cargo carrying capacity, guidance, and, um, cost. First
is the straight-up bent biconic, second is shuttle-derived.”

Jeff looked over the drawings.
“Shuttle-derived? What’s the advantage of that?”

“More lift, better guidance, lower
g-forces, lower cargo ejection velocity, 48% more cargo volume, and a proven
design.”

“That sounds good. What’s the
downside?”

“Complexity, development time,
greater mass, and cost – both development and launch.”

“Well that’s not good. 48% more
volume? I didn’t think the shuttle cargo bay was that big?”

“It’s not. It’s around 387 cubic
meters, about 24% larger than our proposed lifting body, but we could also use
the crew compartment since there won’t be a crew. Just remove the bulkhead and
we have another 74 cubic meters of cargo space.”

“But that’s still not enough for
the entire cargo. We’d still have to launch something else.”

She nodded. “Yes, but it would be a
lot smaller, and provide some cost savings on that side of the equation.”

Jeff shrugged. “Okay. How would we
launch it?”

“The same way NASA did.”

“Yikes! Jesus, Gabe, you’re talking
about building and launching a Shuttle-C.”

“Something like that.”

He sighed and scratched his head.
“Um, how do you get it out of orbit?”

“Launch a second external fuel tank
all by itself, dock it with the shuttle in LEO… and send it on its way.”

“Oh brother. That’d be some kind of
docking system.”

“Uh huh. Look, you wanted options.
This is an option.”

“Yeah, but it’s not much of an
option if it consumes our entire budget, and then some.”

Gabe shrugged.

“May I interrupt you for a minute.”

Jeff turned to find Chrissie
standing in the doorway with a rather dour look on her face. “Sure, what is
it?”

She pursed her lips, long-faced,
looking like she was about to cry.

He frowned. “Chrissie, what’s
wrong?”

She took a deep breath as tears
began to roll down her cheeks. “Neil Armstrong just passed away.”

Jeff felt as though he’d just been
kicked in the stomach. “Oh, God!”

Gabe stood for a moment, then
dropped her glasses on the table, fell into a chair, buried her face in her
hands, and bawled.

Friday, September 7,
2012 (T-1292 days)

Jeff pulled up a chair at the
conference room table opposite Gabe. “What?”

She smiled. “I think I’ve got it.”

“I hope it’s not contagious.”

Gabe frowned and wagged a finger at
him. “One of these days…”

He smiled. “Yeah, but not today.
Got what?”

“The return booster.”

Jeff’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Uh huh, and it was right under our
noses all the time.”

“What?”

“A Falcon 9 second stage. It’s the
right size, uses the right fuel, it’s available, easy to launch and,
comparatively speaking, affordable.”

He stared at her for a moment,
mouth hanging open. “I’ll be damned. Now why didn’t I think of that?”

Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Outstanding! Um, how do we do it?”

“Well, it’s a bit complicated, so
pay attention.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Okay. We launch a Falcon Heavy – already in the
plan – to LEO with the SPS fuel and the lander, about 8,850 kilos. Now, the FH
can do that without using the second stage; and there’s our return booster.”

“I’m with you but, what about orbital insertion?”

“Patience, I’m getting to that. Then we launch – and
any way you look at this, it’s going to require another launch – a Falcon 9,
just to put its second stage in orbit. That can’t be done without using part of
the second stage fuel, but it still leaves us more than enough fuel to trim the
orbit following aerocapture, nearly a thousand meters per second of Delta-V.
And, the entire mass is within TMI limitations of the EDS. Further, we can
launch the F9 from Kwajalein, so we don’t have to put any additional pressure
on facilities at the Cape.”

Jeff chuckled. “Excellent.”

“Now, I still need to squeeze it into the lifting
body aeroshell and heat shield, but I think that can be done by simply
substituting it for the two Falcon payload fairings. So, we launch all this,
dock it in LEO, and send it to Mars. Then aerocapture, jettison the aeroshell
and heat shield, trim the orbit, jettison the extra booster, dock, and, when
the time comes, go home. Um, now one problem is that this booster doesn’t give
us quite the Delta-V we need. But it’s only short by around a hundred meters
per second; we can easily make that up with the SPS, and still have plenty of
fuel remaining in the service module to get us home.”

He nodded. “Good job, Gabriel.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Alright, get it done.”

“Okay.”

“Um…”

“What?”

“Does it bother you at all that we may be putting
too much pressure on SpaceX? We’re asking an awful lot of them. Are you at all
worried that they may cut some corners to meet the commitment?”

She shook her head. “No. Their ultimate goal is
twenty launches a year, ten each Heavy’s and 9’s. We’re only asking for about a
quarter of that. If they can’t meet our requirements, what does that say to the
rest of the industry? Frankly, I think Elon Musk is potentially looking at us
for
his
proof of concept. I mean, if they can pull this off, they’ll be
the 800-pound gorilla in the launch industry for years to come. Besides, though
I’m sure there are some that don’t care whether or not the mission succeeds so
long as they get paid, I don’t think anyone wants to be the cause of failure.
If the mission does fail, I think most everyone would prefer seeing
responsibility land on someone else’s desk. And I think that’s particularly
true amongst the launchers. That is, after all, what they do; regardless of
payload or destination.”

“Good points all. Well, let’s keep working on
Jupiters anyway; I still think that’s our best bet.”

Gabe sighed. “Okay. I can do the engineering, Jeff,
but we still need all the parts.”

“Yeah, I’m working on it.”

Chrissie suddenly burst into the
room. “Come quick! You’ve got to see this!” And she ran off before Jeff and
Gabe had a chance to open their mouths.

Gabe looked at Jeff, clearly
startled. “What is it?”

Jeff shook his head. “I have no
idea. Come on, let’s see.”

They couldn’t catch Chrissie, but
near the top of the stairs heard her dashing through the great room. They
trotted through the foyer, Jeff in the lead by several feet. As he reached the
open great room doors he motioned to Gabe to stop, held up a finger and mouthed
the word, “Wait.” He cautiously walked into the room, out of Gabe’s sight and,
a moment later, stuck his hand back through the door and crooked his finger
toward her, motioning her to follow him.

As Gabe’s head peaked through the
door, Jeff, Abby, Susan and Chrissie yelled, “SURPRISE! Happy Birthday!”

Gabe hunched her shoulders and
sheepishly smiled. “You guys remembered.”

Jeff walked up to her and gave her
warm smile and a big hug. “Of course we remembered. Happy birthday.”

Chrissie grabbed her hand and half
dragged her to the dining room. “Come on, we’ve got cake and ice cream and
party hats…”

Abby interrupted, “And champagne.”

Gabe looked over the table. There
was a birthday cake about three feet long that said, “Gabriel – Happy 26
^th
Birthday,” and a stack of presents. She turned around to the four of them and
fought back tears. “You guys are too good. Thank you.”

Abby took her arm. “Alright,
alright, enough of that. Don’t get all mushy on us. Come on, let’s get drunk.”

After cake and ice cream and much
champagne, Gabe sat down to the stack of presents. From Chrissie there were
three pair of jeans. Gabe’s eyes glowed. “My favorite kind. And you actually
found them in my size?”

Chrissie smiled. “It wasn’t easy.
Happy birthday.”

From Susan came a MontBlanc pen and
pencil set. “With all the writing you do, you need something better than that
stuff we get at Office Depot.”

“Thank you so much. They’re
beautiful.”

Tearing the paper off Abby’s gift,
Gabe was met with a box labeled “Victoria’s Secret.”

Gabe grinned at the box
suspiciously. “Uh oh.”

Jeff’s eyes lit up. “This could be
interesting.”

Gabe opened the box and pulled out
three negligees – that almost weren’t. “Oh my. They’re… beautiful. Thanks. Is
there a message here?”

Abby smiled. “No. I just thought
they’d look good on you.”

Jeff grinned. “Well, we’re
definitely gonna need a fashion show.”

Gabe stood, held one of the
negligees up to her, looked down and gasped. “Uh, in your dreams.”

“Damn.”

“Thank you Abby, they’re lovely.”

The last present was from Jeff.
Gabe opened it and sat there staring at it in her hands. It was a slide rule,
one of the old Keuffel & Esser mahogany Log Log Duplex Trig rules,
as-new-in-box, for which he paid a handsome sum. Jeff thought it would be an
amusing little joke since Gabe was about the last person on earth that needed a
slide rule. She didn’t even need a calculator. Her response was not what he
expected.

After a moment she began to cry.
She clutched the slide rule to her bosom, looked up at Jeff and through the
tears said, “It’s the nicest present anyone has ever given me.” Then she stood
and just walked off, sat down on the great room floor near the piano and, like
a child with a new toy, started playing with it.

Abby leaned over to Jeff and
whispered, “What is she doing?”

“Probably checking its accuracy.”

“Are you sure about her? Sometimes
she is so weird.”

Jeff just stood watching Gabe and
said nothing.

Thursday, October 4,
2012 (T-1265 days)

Abby came running into Jeff’s
office as fast as her feet could carry her, “Boss! You gotta see this.” She
grabbed the remote control off the top of Jeff’s TV, turned it on and quickly
switched channels to CNN.

“… little is known about Jeffrey
Grey at present. He has avoided publicity since winning the Mega Millions
Lottery and his present whereabouts is unknown. Calls to his residence in Long
Beach, California have so far not been returned.

“A spokesperson
at NASA, when asked about Mr. Grey’s intended mission to Mars, would say only
that they are unaware of any such mission. The spokesperson added, ‘It’s rather
unlikely.’”

Jeff jerked up at the announcement.
“Shit. Somebody spilled the beans.”

Abby groaned, “You think?”

“We turn
now to Mike Williams, CNN’s NASA correspondent. Mike, what of this? Is it
possible for a private individual to go to Mars?”

Gabe came running in with Susan and
Chrissie hot on her heels, “Do you believe this?”

Abby shushed her.

“Well
John, I suppose it’s theoretically possible, but highly unlikely. The cost and
technical issues involved are simply beyond the resources of any individual.
Bill Gates and Warren Buffet combined couldn’t afford it. Further, from what
little we know of Jeffrey Grey, he has no aerospace experience. So, in spite of
the fact this report has been confirmed by reliable sources, there is still a
strong likelihood that it is merely a hoax. Just a publicity stunt.”

“Why that son of a bitch,” Abby
snarled.

“Mike, might it be possible for
someone to put together a consortium of commercial aerospace firms, each
filling their specialized niche and, as a group, mount such a mission?”

“That would be a far more likely
scenario, and certainly within the collective ability of the aerospace
industry. On the other hand, the United States government, through the FAA,
controls American airspace… all the way up. So no one would be launching such a
mission without the government’s approval. Further, activities on Mars are
regulated by international treaty. So, regardless of any consortium plans, the
U.S. government, foreign governments, the U.N., I mean, just about everyone
would want to have a say in this. One doesn’t just go to Mars because they want
to. There are mountains of rules and regulations involved.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, the FAA controls U.S.
airspace for the protection of the people. It’s not a real good idea to allow
just anyone to launch a rocket. What if it fails? Where’s it going to come
down? Downtown Manhattan? And the treaty governing Martian exploration is for
the protection of both Earth and Mars. Its primary purpose is to prevent the
possibility of cross-contamination by potentially hazardous bio-organisms.”

“Thank
you. That was Mike Williams, CNN’s NASA correspondent, reporting from Houston.
Once again, there are confirmed reports that Jeffrey Grey, the Californian who
won $750 million in the Mega Millions Lottery earlier this year is organizing
and funding a manned expedition to Mars, scheduled to launch in about three and
a half years.”

Abby turned it off. “What do we do
now?”

Jeff sat for a minute rubbing his
temples. “Hmmm, that is a very good question. I’m not sure. For the moment…
nothing.”

“Nothing?” Gabe questioned, eyes
wide.

Jeff nodded, “Yeah, nothing. Let’s
not make this any worse by jumping into the media circus unprepared. Chrissie,
time to earn your keep.”

Chrissie nodded, “We knew this was
just a when, not an if. I’m ready.”

“Okay. Why don’t we give it a few
days for the dust to settle, talk about it and, when we’re ready, just make a
simple announcement; be nonchalant, matter-of-fact. You know, news release,
something like that. But let’s do it on our terms, not CNN’s.”

“Okay.”

“Look, like you said, we knew this
could happen. We’d hoped that we could beat it to the punch but we didn’t. But
it changes nothing.”

Abby growled. “Who do you think
leaked it? Sounds like more than one. Who do I need to kill?”

Jeff smiled, “Who knows? There’s no
shortage of suspects, but let’s not be making a hit list – yet. Let’s face it,
there are some secrets that just can’t be kept.” Jeff thought for a moment.
“Hmmm. But let’s try to avoid that angle. Why don’t we take the indifferent
approach, steal the media’s thunder, leave them with no ‘scandal’ or ‘hoax’ to
report. Try and keep them concentrated on the mission. Something like, ‘No, it
was no big secret, we were simply going about our business making preparations.
We weren’t quite ready to announce it yet but somebody leaked it. No big thing.
Yeah, we’re going to Mars. What of it?’”

Chrissie nodded, “I like that.”

“Okay. Well boys and girls, the
cat’s out of the bag. Let’s just make sure we look like we know what we’re
doing. We’re not fools, let’s not look like it. No missteps.”

There was a chorus of, “Right,” and
they began to file out.

“Sue, could you stay for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Jeff waited for the others to leave
then motioned toward the door, “Would you mind closing that.” Susan closed the
door. “Have a seat.”

“What’s up?”

Jeff cleared his throat. “I’m not
real sure how to approach this. I’m the boss, the mission’s mine but,
doctor-patient privilege, blah, blah, blah.”

Susan smiled. “Challenging
minefield, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jeff stared at her and
thought for a moment. “A couple months ago Gabe mentioned some things to me
about herself that…”

Susan interrupted him. “I know.
She’s told me about it.”

“She has?”

“Of course, I’m her doctor.”

Jeff gave her a puzzled look. “Were
you going to say anything to me about it?”

“No.”

He frowned. “Uh, why not?”

“As you said, doctor-patient
privilege.”

“But…”

“Look, if I felt it would or could
in any way have an adverse impact on the mission, yes, I would wake you in the
middle of the night to tell you about it. But I don’t.”

Jeff rubbed the itch on his nose.
“But she mentioned some pretty serious psychological issues and I think you
have to agree that her behavior at times is a bit strange. Remember our first
meeting? And her birthday? And the MSL landing?”

“Uh huh.”

Jeff waited for her to continue,
but she didn’t. “That’s it? Just, ‘uh huh’?”

“Yes.”

His patience ran out. “Susan! Can
we cut the crap? Please talk to me.”

She sighed. “Sorry, I do
understand.” She thought for a minute, apparently trying to balance the
conflicting sides of the issue. “In Gabe’s case, there is no scientific or
medical basis, so far as I know, for the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, of any
variety. In my opinion, the diagnosis of cyclothymia was just a guess, and not
a very good one. Whoever made it simply didn’t understand what he or she was
dealing with. Certainly she exhibits signs of what some might deem to be
hypomania or hyperthymia when comparing her to most people, but that’s her
normal temperament. She’s simply more creative and energetic than the rest of
us. So far as her mood swings are concerned, well, we all have mood swings;
Gabe’s are just more exaggerated. But then, most everything she does is a
little exaggerated; it’s just the way she is. If you or I demonstrated periodic
mood swings involving hyperthymic temperament like Gabe’s, that would be
abnormal, and might be cause for alarm. But for her, it’s normal, she’s always
that way. Now, her phenomenal intellect, memory, and musical abilities would
certainly suggest that she is a savant, but that’s not a disease. Gabe is
simply… different from us. And perhaps not having what she has is our loss, not
hers.”

“So you don’t see a need for some
kind of clinical treatment or medication?”

“No. Do you really want to treat
everyone that doesn’t fit into the ‘normal’ mold with pharmaceuticals or
psychotherapy? Create the perfect societal ‘oneness’? After all, didn’t you
hire her
because
of her unique abilities? Do you really want to find a
‘cure’ for that?”

Jeff rubbed his chin and stared at
the desk for a minute, and then nodded. “Your point is eloquently made, as
usual.”

“Jeff, Gabe is not a freak, she’s just
different. I don’t know everything about her past but I’d guess that her entire
life has been spent in a glass case; shown off as a trophy or exhibit or…
curiosity. What she needs more than anything else is to simply belong; to be
welcomed to the family as just ‘one of us’.”

Jeff nodded and smiled. “Thank
you.”

“Any time.” Susan rose and headed
for the door. She paused, turned back to Jeff and smiled whimsically. “By the
way, I’d give just about anything to have a mind like hers. What an incredible
gift.”

Monday, October 8,
2012 (T-1261 days)

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Grey Aerospace Announces
Plans for Manned Mission to Mars

Newport, Rhode Island, October
8, 2012 – Jeffrey Grey, the winner of April’s record-breaking Mega-Millions
lottery, today announced that he has invested the entire sum, more than a third
of a billion dollars, in a closely held corporation, Grey Aerospace, with the
singular goal of launching a manned mission to Mars in four years’ time.

“The United States Government
has long promoted greater interest and investment in space exploration by the
commercial aerospace industry,” says Mr. Grey. “All we are doing is picking up
the ball the Government has tossed on the playing field and running with it.”

Numerous plans for manned Mars
missions have been published in recent decades, by both government (NASA) and
interested private parties, such as The Mars Society, founded by Dr. Robert
Zubrin, author of The Case for Mars. However, owing to the cost involved –
upwards of hundreds of billions of dollars – and the many years of lead-time
required to develop technology and systems, no one has seriously contemplated
an actual mission within any foreseeable time frame.

All of that, Mr. Grey contends,
is unnecessary. “The technology to do this exists today. Commercial aerospace
can send a man to Mars, it can be done now, and it doesn’t need to bankrupt the
taxpayers.”

The plan calls for launching an
equipment package in December 2013 and crew launch with additional systems for
living on Mars in March 2016. The crew will consist of four members yet to be
named and the mission is expected to last two and a half years.

Contact:

Christine Mallory

[email protected]

(401) 555-1212

Chrissie stuck her head in the
kitchen as Jeff poured a cup of coffee. “Why aren’t you watching the news?” she
asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Chrissie, in the immortal words
of… somebody, I don’t need to watch the news. This morning I
am
the
news.”

“The phones, fax machine, email,
it’s all gone berserk!”

“That’s good, they’re interested.”

“But I’ll never be able to wade
through it all.”

“Sure you will. Just take your time
and get back to everybody in order. They’re probably used to it and don’t
expect an immediate response.”

She shook her head and ran back
out.

Jeff sighed and said to himself,
“Now it gets interesting.” He picked up his coffee and joined Gabe, Abby, Susan
and Chrissie on the sofa in the great room where they were watching CNN.
“Something interesting on the news?”

They all looked at him in astonishment.

Jeff grinned. “Alright. Never
mind.”

Without removing her gaze from the
TV, Abby said, “They found out you’re a Navy EOD Captain and some lunatic is
claiming this is a secret government mission for you to disarm a doomsday
device sent to Mars back in the 1950s from Area 51 that’s supposed to go off in
five years and destroy the universe.”

Jeff laughed, “You’re kidding!”

Susan shook her head, “No, she’s
not. It’s embarrassing.”

Jeff stopped laughing and looked at
her. “It’s not embarrassing, it’s insane, and you and I know better.” He got
up, walked over to the TV and turned it off.

Abby frowned, “Hey.”

“Hey, nothing. It’s a media circus,
a feeding frenzy. All they’ve got is what we told them so they’re making up the
rest as they go. It will all sort itself out over the next few days, weeks and
months. Alright? In the meantime, don’t we have work to do? I don’t know about
you but I don’t want to make liars out of us, and we’ve got a launch in
fourteen months.”

They nodded but didn’t grumble, and
headed downstairs. Gabe stopped beside Jeff and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Jeff returned her smile. “Forget
it. Just give me that launch.”

She nodded. “You’ll get it.”

Early that afternoon Jeff placed
another call to the office of Senator Richard Landers, ranking minority member
of the United States Senate Science and Space Subcommittee. For two months Jeff
had been trying to speak to the Senator personally, but was continually blocked
by his Chief of Staff, Mark Chambliss. Jeff hoped that with the morning’s press
release he might finally get through.

“Good afternoon Mr. Grey,” said
Mark, “Quite a splash you made in the news this morning.”