14

Launch

“This is as high as she’s going to get, David,” exclaimed Juliette. She was sitting in front of the controls of the Samandar 3B Sunwing.

David Alaoui looked at the control screen. The 3B was at 64,400 meters, where Venus’s atmosphere was only a tenth as dense as the Earth’s and the air temperature was –20 Centigrade; conditions more Martian than Venusian. Its three propellers were spinning at their maximum; not only was the sunwing using all of the 60 kilowatts of power the solar panels covering the tops and bottoms of its wings could generate, but it was using 40 kilowatts of power beamed over by microwave from the nearby Samandar 3A. The latter was broadcasting a picture of the 3B and David glanced at it as well. The Samandar had a wingspan of almost twenty meters; the fuselage was six meters long and one meter in diameter and David focused in particular on it. The front meter was a science lab with a trap door in the top where miniature Phoenix airplanes could land, anchor themselves, and deposit rock samples from the roasting surface far below. The rear meter had the sunwing’s control module, fuel cells, energy storage system, and communications. The four meters of fuselage in between was a rocket, now fully fueled with 3 tonnes of liquid methane and oxygen, ready for a drop launch.

“Everything’s nominal?” he asked.

“Affirmative,” replied Juliette.

“We’re actually 1,500 meters higher than planned,” added Ludwig. “That gives us some extra delta-v.”

“Good. Let’s initiate the drop launch sequence.”

“Laying it in,” replied Juliette. “All systems look beautiful.”

“The timing is perfect for the launch window, too,” added David. He watched the screen. A countdown began. No one spoke; they watched it silently count down through the last thirty seconds, as systems activated themselves or checked themselves for the launch.

At zero, they all focused on the television screen. Suddenly, the middle section of the fuselage separated and dropped like a rock. The sunwing, suddenly 3,000 kilograms lighter, immediately shot upward. Juliette switched to a camera in the belly of the 3B. The rocket fell away, then suddenly its three engines came alive, blasting out an immense flame behind it. The rocket began to turn and rise into the blue sky, accelerating rapidly.

“Beautiful,” exclaimed Juliette.

“And the thrust is perfect,” added Ludwig. “The engines are performing very well.”

The rocket shrank to a bright point within ten seconds. It was accelerating at an immense rate, powerful engines using up the methane and oxygen fuel as fast as possible in order to reduce losses due to gravity. A mere eighty seconds into the flight there was a pause, a flare was visible, then the spot faded in brightness. “Staging has proceeded normally,” noted Juliette. “The first stage is on its way to the surface of Venus.”

“To become a puddle of aluminum alloy,” remarked David wryly.

The spot continued to glow from the point of view of Samandar 3A and 3B, but there was no detail to see. They all turned to the telemetry screens where thrust, remaining fuel, altitude, and delta-v were all charted, along with data from hundreds of temperature, pressure, and other sensors. The rocket was now rising into the thin wisps of upper atmosphere where the air had very little impact on it. The flight computer leaned the rocket over so that it was flying more horizontally, gaining speed rather than altitude.

About 300 seconds after it separated from the sunwing, at an altitude of 250 kilometers, the second stage engine shut down. “It’s in orbit,” said Juliette, with a smile. “We can start planning the orbital circularization maneuver right away. We’ve got the fuel to move the orbit up an thirty extra kilometers.”

“We should plan on it,” agreed David. “It’ll make the job of the ion tug much easier.” Ion engines spent most of their time in low orbit counteracting the slight but steady drag of the ultra-thin atmosphere, so the higher the sample return vehicle was, the better.

“It means the hundred kilograms of samples will get here several weeks sooner, also,” added Juliette.

“Congratulations to all of us!” said David. excitedly. “The first samples ever recovered from the surface of Venus are on their way up!” He looked at his three teammates, including Sally Greenleaf, who had no role in the launch but who was present nevertheless.

“We should have a toast, even if our French commander doesn’t drink French champagne!” exclaimed Ludwig. He rose and got out a bottle from the cabinet and filled three glasses. Meanwhile David, who was reasonably observant as a Muslim, filled a glass with water.

They raised their glasses. “To Venus; may she continue to yield her secrets to us,” exclaimed Ludwig.

“And to the sunwings and their rockets; may they continue to serve us,” added Juliette.

“And to the future,” concluded David. “To deuterium recovery from the Venusian atmosphere, and reusable shuttles that can fly down to sunwings and back, and rovers that won’t melt, and all sorts of other innovations that are promised to later Magellans.”

“Here, here!” exclaimed Sally. And they all drank.

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Will Elliott ceremonially rang Aurorae Outpost’s bell once, twice, three times. Then the wedding march began and everyone turned to watch Andries Underwood and Tina Hvitmer walk in, preceded by Lizzie Elliott and Corazon Lopes, both three years old, sprinkling flowers as they went.

A smile graced every face as the couple reached the front of the patio and stood under an arbor, decorated with flowers for the occasion. Gregory Harris joined them and welcomed everyone on behalf of the couple.

The wedding ceremony was brief; a few readings from scripture, words from the chaplain and the couple, a song, the exchange of vows, and then the signing of the marriage license. When it ended everyone broke out into applause for Mars’s newest married couple. Everyone lined up along building 1 to shake hands or embrace them while Lisa and her crew quickly rolled out tables, rearranged the chairs, and set up the buffet lunch. Others stopped at the two videophones and attached projection screens to greet the family of bride and groom, who were participating with their friends in Johannesburg and Copenhagen, respectively. The couple headed for the head table while recorded music blared from loudspeakers. Immediately everyone banged on their glasses to get the couple to kiss.

“A custom I wish we could abolish,” said Ethel to Will. “They’ll never get a chance to eat!”

“Don’t worry,” replied Will. “What a glorious sol.”

“It is a beautiful sol for a wedding; but then, every sol in the biome is beautiful if there’s no dust storm outside!”

“Well, yes, you have a point.”

“Sometimes your optimism gets to be a bit ridiculous, my dear.”

“Let’s see; we still have ten folks who plan to stay here who are unmarried. I hope some of them can be convinced soon.”

“Maybe Columbus 6 will bring the right man or woman. Selecting a mate when the choices are relatively few is not very easy.”

“We did alright.”

“Yes, I guess we did,” conceded Ethel.

“Well, let’s get in line for the food.” Will rose and Marshall almost jumped from his chair, he was so hungry. They ended up in line right behind Pete Theodoulos and Yasuo Matsuzawa.

“How are plans for liftoff?” Will asked them. The Olympus was scheduled to carry both of them and Taehun Kim to the ITVs on December 4, just three sols away.

“Quite good,” replied Pete. “We just ran a second set of complete tests on the systems this sol, and everything is fine. The Hadriaca’s ready for launch tomorrow. The spaceport crew finished loading the gold and fossils on board yestersol.”

“So I heard. We have to congratulate Andries for a greatly successful effort there; who would have thought we’d recover nine tonnes of gold in five months?”

“There’s no doubt; Pretoria and Joburg are among the greatest gold concentrations ever found my humanity,” replied Pete. “Will, I really regret leaving. These sixteen months have been incredible, unbelievable. I’ll never forget the terrain we explored. But I have a wife and two kids who want me back.”

“And I know exactly what that means, Pete. Don’t feel bad about the situation. Frankly, if this arrangement with the Commission works out well, you can do a great deal of good there. We don’t have any astronauts who have walked on Mars in high positions in the Commission’s Houston headquarters. They really can’t completely understand our situation up here without someone who can explain it to them.”

“I’ll do my best,” agreed Pete. “I think the job is ideal for me. My boy is starting high school and needs me around for a few years. I’m not sure how the family will respond to a move from Toronto to Houston, but they’re willing to give it a try.”

“Good. And maybe you and your wife—or even the grown up kids—can come later.”

“Commander, I am saddened to leave as well,” exclaimed Yasuo. “But as you know, it really has not worked out so well for me, up here.”

“Yes, I know Yasuo, and that’s alright. If you weren’t going back, I’m not sure Pete could go back as well! There will be just three of you on two ITVs and two shuttles; a big, rambling space to be in. If only two were going, the Commission would have scrubbed the flyby of asteroid 2008PL. With three, that’s feasible.”

“And I’m really glad we’re doing it,” added Pete. “It’s good science, and provides yet another datapoint, especially if the Hadriaca can land and scoop up samples as planned. Don’t worry, Yasuo, as soon as we spin up the Columbus 5 station, we’ll switch to an exactly 24 hour day, and I’m sure your chronic sleep problems will go away.”

“That’s what the doctors say,” said Yasuo, nodding. “I hope future residents with this problem can get relief with medication.”

“They’re working on it,” replied Will. “I worry about my kids; they were raised here with a 24.6 hour circadian rhythm programmed into them. I wonder whether they can adjust to living comfortably on Earth!”

“I’d worry more about the gravity,” replied Pete. “Even with a gradual increase in spin and artificial gee during the flight in, several people have had long-term adjustment problems.”

“It may not be a problem anyway,” said Will. “At the moment we have no reason to leave, and at the present rate, by the time Marshall’s an adult, Aurorae may be a small town anyway. Who knows, maybe he’ll be on the first mission to Ceres.”

“Maybe,” said Marshall, piping in.

They reached the food and went through the buffet line. Marshall loaded his plate; Will was more restrained, because the improvement in diet was causing him and everyone else to put on a bit of weight. He walked back to his table via the bride and groom.

“Congratulations again,” he said. “I owe both of you a debt of gratitude, too. Andries, without your energy and focus, we wouldn’t be exporting nine tonnes of gold. Tina, without your journalistic skills, we wouldn’t be in as good a position as we are where public relations is concerned. I heard from Morgan this sol we now have forty signed up for Columbus 6, and both of you are responsible for the turnaround.”

“Forty!” exclaimed Andries. “I’m amazed they can pack that many into the ITVs and shuttles! It strikes me as risky.”

“It shouldn’t be risky at all. The equipment is good.”

“So that means Mars will just about hit one hundred people,” commented Tina. “That’s a milestone to publicize as well.”

“Correct. After Columbus 5 leaves, we’ll have forty-four adults and ten children, with two more kids on the way. When Columbus 6 arrives we’ll have a population of ninety-six, most likely. I think it’s pretty likely we’ll have four more children born in the next two years.”

“We’ll probably make our contribution to the population explosion,” noted Tina. “With the biological clock ticking and radiation damage a constant worry, there’s no reason to wait very long.”

“But meanwhile, we’d like to be assigned to Cassini again,” said Andries. “We’re enjoying the work there, and Tina has found plenty of journalism to do from there.”

“Excellent; I’ll look at the schedule. But right now focus on the wedding and starting your life together. You’ll be the first couple to honeymoon at the dacha.”

“Yes; that should be fun,” agreed Tina. “But since we’ll be the only people there, we may find food preparation and other tasks to be too demanding! We may prefer to be here where we can get our meals easily.”

“That makes sense, and I bet someone will even deliver them. Well, enjoy the rest of the sol.”

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December 4, 2030, dawned bright and cold, as it always did at Aurorae Outpost. Pete Theodoulos, Yasuo Matsuzawa, and Taehun Kim ate a big breakfast on the patio of Yalta with many of their friends, then after a round of hugs and hand shakes, they headed for the garage in Joseph Hall. Their personal possessions were all packed in airtight suitcases in the ranger. They donned their spacesuits quickly, then Will himself drove them to the Olympus and helped them walked to the shuttle’s entrance ramp. They walked up the ramp, waved, and entered the airlock. A few minutes later the ramp rose and folded into place against the side of the shuttle.

Inside, they stowed their suitcases, strapped in, and began to run through the two-hour launch checkout procedure. The Olympus was poised and ready, 155 tonnes of oxygen and methane in its tanks, enough to hurl the ship to the high elliptical orbit followed by Embarcadero Station. The ITVs Cimmerium and Ophir awaited them with the shuttle Hadriaca, which had arrived safely two sols earlier. Its cargo bay, in addition to a section for the crew, had two sections containing half of the gold, three tonnes of rock samples destined for laboratories on Earth, and four tonnes of fossiliferous shale for sale to the public. Altogether, Columbus 5 was returning with almost $150 million of exports.

The final countdown began as the ITVs and the other shuttle raced into the place they were destined to be at launch. Finally the count reached zero and the Olympus’s engines came alive, belching out a small initial flame, then rapidly increasing to full throttle. The shuttle rose for pad 6, at first slowly, then with increasing speed and confidence as it blasted skyward on its homeward journey to Earth.

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