Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (72 page)

“Thanks,” and Jeff
switched back to COM1. He groaned. “Oh, ugh.”

“What’s the matter?”
said Susan.

“My back hurts. And
if this harness was any tighter, I couldn’t breathe.”

Susan sighed. “Check
your left sleeve pocket.”

“Huh?”

“I said, check – your
– left – sleeve…”

“I heard you. It was
a rhetorical… ‘Huh’.”

“Well, in that case,
just shutup and do as I tell you.”

Jeff grinned. “Yes
ma’am.” He reached into his sleeve pocket and found a small envelope containing
two white tablets. “Vicodin?”

“Yes.”

“You actually thought
of this?”

“Of course, it’s what
you pay me for. Besides, you were complaining of back pain after the dress
rehearsal, and I just thought…”

“Good thinking.”

“Take those and your
back will feel better in a little while. However, I would advise against
driving or operating heavy machinery for the next few hours.”

Jeff laughed. “Sue,
this ship weighs 4.8 million pounds. Does that not count as heavy machinery?”

“Yes, it does. But
Abby is flying and Gabe is operating. And you, I hope, are just sitting back,
watching the blinking lights, and keeping your hands off the knobs, switches
and buttons.”

Jeff laughed even
harder. “Okay.” He took the two tablets, leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Somebody wake me up when we get there.”

Abby chuckled and
shook her head. “Or maybe we’ll just toss you out the door somewhere along the
way.”

Jeff leaned forward
and glanced across the instrument panel. “Okay, I’m awake.”

LCC CAPCOM, “T minus
one hour thirty-five minutes. Verify all systems ready for crew module
closeout.”

Jeff keyed his radio.
“Roger, standby.” He glanced to his left. “Abby?”

“Go for closeout.”

“Gabe?”

“Go.”

“Susan?”

“Oh god.”

“You okay?”

“I’m terrified.”

“Yes. Well in that, I
don’t think you’re alone. But, are you ready for closeout?”

“Yes.”

Jeff nodded.
“Kennedy,
Ares
, ready for CM closeout.”

“Uh, roger,
Ares
, close CM
hatch.”

Molly stuck her head through the
hatch. “Godspeed, guys. Please come back.”

Jeff smiled. “That’s
the plan, Molly. Thanks for everything, and we’ll see you on the flip side.”

She smiled and
nodded, and the Closeout Crew sealed the hatch.

CAPCOM, “Commence
cabin pressure verification.”

Gabe keyed her radio
switch. “Pressurizing.”

CAPCOM, “T minus 40
minutes. Commence Ground Launch Sequence presequencing. Command module leak
checks complete. Perform cabin vent.”

“Roger,” said Jeff,
“cabin vent.”

CAPCOM, “We are at T
minus 20 minutes and holding. This is a planned 10 minute hold. Clear Closeout
Crew from the launch pad. All test personnel switch to channel 212. Initialize
fuel cell purge.”

Jeff rubbed his lips
and stared at nothing in particular on the instrument panel. “Gabe?”

“Hmmm?”

“The first weekend we
all met at Wrentham House? What was the countdown?”

“Um… T minus 1,376
days.”

“Hmmm, what is that?
Something over three and a half years?”

“Uh huh, three years,
nine months, and a week.”

“You think the next
two and a half years will go by as quickly?”

“I don’t know.”

He took her hand and
looked at her. “I’m looking forward to doing this, but I’m also looking forward
to being done with it.”

She gazed into his
eyes. “Me too.”

CAPCOM, “T minus 7
minutes 30 seconds, retract capsule access arm.”

Jeff sighed. “Well
Abby, there goes our last chance to step outside and have a cigarette.”

She groaned. “Yeah. I
don’t suppose you thought to bring a bottle of Scotch?”

He patted his
pockets. “Oops.”

She glanced at him
and shook her head. “Poor planning.”

“Yeah.”

CAPCOM, “T minus 6
minutes 15 seconds, Go for APU pre-start.”

“Roger, APU
pre-start,” said Gabe. She flipped the power switches for all three auxiliary
power units and watched the gas generator temperature, turbine speed, and
gearbox pressure gauges come up, and waited for the talkback indicators to show
“Ready to Start.”

CAPCOM, “T minus 5
minutes, Go for APU start.”

“Roger, APU start.”
Gabe flipped all three APU switches to Start/Run.

Jeff glanced at the
engineering display as hydraulic pressure came up and noticed Gabe’s gloved
hand was shaking.

“We’ve got
hydraulics,” she said.

Jeff nodded. “Roger.
You okay?”

“No. I’m scared half
to death.”

He took her hand and
squeezed it. “Come on, you’ve done this a hundred times.”

“In the sim. It’s not
the same thing.”

CAPCOM, “T minus 2
minutes and counting. Close visors.”

“Roger, visors,” said
Jeff. “Okay everybody, close and lock visors.”

Gabe moaned, “Oh
god,” and started panting.

“Gabe, stop it,
you’re gonna hyperventilate in all this oxygen. Just close and lock, and pay
attention to what you’re doing.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

She whimpered,
“Okay,” and closed and locked her visor.

CAPCOM, “T minus one
minute 30 seconds and we are Go for launch.”

Susan’s voice came
over the intercom. “Gabe, Jeff didn’t say to stop breathing.”

Gabe exhaled loud
enough to be heard. “Sorry.”

Jeff squeezed her
hand again. “Just hang on. In 13 minutes we’ll be in orbit.”

“You could have gone
without saying that.”

He chuckled.

CAPCOM, “T minus one
minute. Good luck
Ares
and Godspeed. Have a safe trip.”

“Will do,” said Jeff,
“and thank you. So long Earth, see you in two and a half years.”

Gabe squeaked,
“Ground power disconnect.” There was a bump. “Fuel valves closed.”

“Roger.”

“God damn,” said
Abby, “it’s a good day to go flying.”

Jeff glanced out the
starboard window. “Yes it is. So, what say we go flying?”

“Roger that.”

CAPCOM, “T minus 31
seconds, Go for auto sequence start.”

“Hey boss,” said
Abby, “there’s your cue to panic.”

He chuckled. “Roger,
panic.”

“SRB APUs running,”
said Gabe.

“Roger.”

CAPCOM, “25 seconds.”

Vibration. “SRB
gimbal test.”

“Roger.”

CAPCOM, “20 seconds.
Sound suppression water.”

Jeff, still holding
Gabe’s hand, grasped Abby’s with his other and held them down between the
seats. Susan clasped their hands with both of hers and held on tight.

CAPCOM, “15 seconds.”

Jeff blinked as a
bead of perspiration ran off his forehead and into his eye. “Okay, everybody
hang on, here we go.”

CAPCOM, “10, 9, 8,
main engines start…”

The ship shuddered.

Gabe cried, “Main
engines running!”

CAPCOM, “… 5, 4, 3,
2, 1, SRB ignition…”

The ship shook
violently as seven and a half million pounds-force of thrust shoved it upwards.

Gabe shrieked, “Oh
dear god!”

Jeff ignored her.

CAPCOM, “… and we
have
Ares
liftoff at 11:36:47 Eastern Daylight Time.”

Jeff yelled, “The
clock is running.”

CAPCOM, “Tower
cleared. So long
Ares
.”

“Roger, Kennedy. Thanks. See you on
the flip side.”

Communications
automatically transferred to the Newport MCC where Chrissie sat CAPCOM. Her
remarkably calm and collected voice came over the radio. “
Ares
, Newport,
good morning.”

“Morning, Chrissie!”

Abby yelled, “Roll program!”

CAPCOM, “Roger, we’ve
got your roll. How’s the ride?”

“Bumpy!”

CAPCOM, “Abby, you
don’t have to yell, I can hear you.”

“I’ll yell if I want
to yell!”

CAPCOM, “Okay.”

With all the shaking,
shimmying, and bumps, Jeff thought his fillings might come loose.

Abby hollered, “1.5
g’s! Roll complete! Pitching!”

The flight computer
switched to secondary abort mode.

“One Bravo,” said
Jeff, “and Chrissie’s right, stop yelling. Gabe, are you still conscious?”

“Barely.”

“Sue, how you doing?”

“I wet my pants.”

“Yeah, okay. Well, no
point in wasting a perfectly good diaper.”

She laughed.

“Throttling back to
92%,” said Abby.

Jeff nodded. “Roger.”

“And… max Q.
Throttling up to 104%.”

“Roger.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
altitude’s 6.2 miles and you’re good to go at one minute. SRB separation in 43
seconds.”

“Roger,” said Jeff.
“Abby?”

“Right down the pipe.
Looking good.”

“That’s comforting.”

“You think?”

“Come on, Abby, back
off. Let’s just get into orbit, then we can relax for a while. One step at a
time.”

Abby sighed audibly.
“Aye, aye, sir. 2.5 g’s.”

“Oh god, it feels
like there’s an elephant sitting on me.”

“It’s gonna get
worse.”

“Yeah, I know. Gabe,
would you say something every now and then just to let me know you’re still
alive.”

Gabe whimpered, “Like
what?”

“Okay, that’s something.”

CAPCOM, “SRB sep in
10 seconds.”

“Roger.”

CAPCOM, “5, 4, 3, 2,
1.”

Jeff groaned, “Ugh,”
as the solid rocket boosters separated, acceleration almost instantaneously
dropped from 2.5 to one g, and they were thrown forward into their shoulder
harnesses. “SRB sep.”

“Oh god!” cried Gabe.
“That’s gonna leave a mark.

“You think that was
bad?” said Abby. “Just wait for staging.”

CAPCOM, “We confirm
SRB sep. At 2 plus 20 seconds we have you 39.9 miles downrange and, uh, 32
miles altitude. Velocity is 6,234 feet per second.”

Jeff glanced at the
flight instrumentation panel in front of Abby. “Roger. Abby?”

“Looking good. 1.3
g’s, here comes the grape-crusher.”

“Couldn’t we have
left this part at home?”

“’Fraid not.”

“Sue, how we doing?”

“Well, aside from everyone’s
blood-pressure, pulse, and respiration being off the chart… we’re all fine.”

“Sorry I asked.”

“Wow,” said Abby.

“What?”

“It’s getting dark
outside.”

Jeff glanced passed
her at the port window. “Yeah. Look at the edge of the atmosphere.”

“It’s incredible.”

CAPCOM, “At T plus 3
minutes we have you 70 miles downrange, 54.9 miles altitude, and, uh… 7,382
feet per second. Thrust is good on all engines and you’re looking good,
Ares
.
Escape tower jettison in 10 seconds.”

“Well ladies, any
abort from here on will be to orbit.”

Gabe groaned. “Well,
you wanted to go into space.”

“Uh, yeah. Um,
Newport, tower’s gone.”

CAPCOM, “Roger,
tower.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
you are Go at 4 minutes. 170 miles downrange, 68.4 miles altitude, and 9,514
feet per second.

“Roger.” Jeff smiled,
glanced out the window, and shook his head. “Boys and girls, welcome to space.
We made it.”

Abby gasped, “Oh my
god! I’m an astronaut!” She grabbed Jeff’s arm and shook it. “Thank you!”

He patted her hand.
“No. Thank you. Thank you all.”

CAPCOM, “
Ares
,
Newport, you are Go at 5 minutes. 269 miles downrange, 83.4 miles altitude,
12,470 feet per second. Looking good for staging at 6 plus 20.”

“Roger.”