AMERICA ONE (34 page)

VIN thoroughly enjoyed himself; the caviar tasted just like fish. He nearly let several single balls escape but managed to catch them, and slurp them down an inch or two in front of Jonesy’s cringing face. His partner seemed to relax once he had consumed three jars of the eggs and a whole sleeve of crackers one by one; then he started on a self-heating pouch of scrambled eggs on toast in-between slugging down his Screw Driver.

Both men were intrigued by this totally new and interesting world. They didn’t realize it was five o’clock somewhere, actually in Perth Australia, and not in Nevada as Ryan was having a morning meeting with the inner group of scientists.

Two weeks later, in Nevada, the second spacecraft was ready and packed for the third flight into space four weeks from then. The second shuttle was still being readied for its deployment into space, and its cargo was due in from Turkey.

Jonesy and VIN had now spent two weeks in space. They were gaining a little bit of weight, even though they upgraded their fitness routines to four hours per day each. The magnetic shoes had come in handy and were used in ways their designers hadn’t planned. Both men would put a set of shoes on their gloved hands and with now four magnetic holders keeping them grounded, they could do push-ups and other exercises.

Much of their enjoyment came from devising new ways to exercise every muscle in their bodies. They had certain command module, shuttle and spacecraft monitoring requirements every eight hours, and if one was asleep the other would attend to noting the readouts on all craft, check quantities of all necessary supplies, turn their energy usage down from day-mode to sleep-mode, and make sure that the two large solar antennas on the outside wall of the communal room were perfectly aligned with the sun.

The International Space Station passed them once every three days, each time at a slightly higher orbit passing at least 300 miles from the Russian craft.

In their daily coded communications with earth they were told that the craft had dropped two feet closer to earth than when they arrived, currently losing altitude by one foot a week.

Life was pretty monotonous for the two men; the exact opposite was true in Nevada.

****

Ryan decided to tell the Air Force that he had a couple of potential investors that wanted to be part of the program, both from countries friendly with the USA, and they wanted to meet.

For the first time since he had opened the airfield for his project he allowed an Air Force jet to enter his air space and to land for a briefing on what he was up to. Ryan didn’t want the world to arrive on his doorstep and stated that one small jet only would be allowed to land.

Before the Air Force jet’s arrival, he had the C-5 towed outside its hangar onto the middle of the apron and left the massive hangar door open. Then he ordered the second shuttle,
Silver Bullet II
, to be wheeled out and its hangar door also left open. The rest would be out of bounds for the visiting VIPs with the other hangar doors closed.

The small Gulfstream came in from the south on time. It flew low overhead and the pilot set up for a landing from the west. Of the half dozen people he had invited, only three said they would be on the flight, a member of the Air Force, the CIA, and the NSA. There were actually four men after two Air Force airmen stepped out of the rear side door and stood at attention once the aircraft was towed into Hangar Three, out of the afternoon sun.

Ryan was there to welcome the VIPs with his head of security, and Bob Mathews in kakis as chief pilot.

“Welcome to my airfield, gentlemen,” Ryan greeted the men as he walked up to shake their hands.

“Mr. Richmond, General Allen Saunders, United States Air Force and base commander at Nellis. May I introduce General John Mortimer, Adjutant to the Chief of Staff in Washington, Tom Ward, Assistant Director, CIA, and Joe Bishop, head of the National Security Agency for the West Coast.

“Welcome!” replied Ryan introducing his men. “On my left is my Chief of Security; Major Parry, U.S. Marine Corp retired and, to my right, Colonel Bob Mathews, USAF retired. I have put on a small buffet with a bar for you, after we have toured what we have outside. General Saunders, your
Dead Chicken
has lost no rivets and has no stress cracks, and we have really appreciated the use of her.”

“I remember you, Bob, Andrews, 87,” said General Saunders. “You were the test pilot on the first drone designs, testing them in flight before we flew the first unmanned drone to Dyess in Texas and back; 1988, I think. I watched you fly her on the simulator. You were Lieutenant Colonel back then, correct?”

“Correct, General, I believe you had just achieved Major when we met,” replied Bob.

“Well, you have an excellent pilot here, Mr. Richmond,” added General Saunders. The other three men spoke little.

They walked out into the sun and toured the C-5. There wasn’t much that Ryan had done to change the large aircraft, except show the men how his shuttle was loaded in the front and how it was released out the back.

I assume you are releasing at about 45,000 feet, Colonel?” asked General Saunders.

No, actually we are close to a 53,000-foot release using a 75 degree climb slope, General,” Bob replied.

“How is that possible?” asked General Mortimer, also in Air Force officer uniform. He stopped walking and looked inquisitively at Ryan, and then at General Saunders. General Saunders had never flown the aircraft and knew very little about her. Bob Mathews continued and explained her modifications to the group.

“Wow! 53,000 feet for a C-5! I must tell Boeing about that,” said General Saunders. “I honestly think nobody will believe me, but the way you worked it out, first going into a dive, hitting max speed, climbing at full throttle and then using her cargo as a weight to push her uphill. Is this one of your great ideas, Bob? Only you could come up with that idea.”

Bob wanted to say that Jonesy had worked out the system, but Ryan had reminded everybody meeting the VIPs that Jonesy had never existed, Colonel Sinclair was now “deceased,” and to say nothing.

The other two men dressed in civilian dress said nothing. They were more interested in the silver shuttle ready for inspection.

In the flight cockpit the two Air Force generals were impressed. “Just under 50 percent the size of our old NASA shuttles you say, and with fully retractable wings and tail, and five motors. I’m sure Martin Brusk at Earth-Exit would love to see this beautiful bird. So would that Brit guy. Designed by your team?” General Mortimer asked.

“Correct,” Ryan replied. “The cockpit can hold four with a squeeze, two sitting in the pull-out seats on each side of the round space-docking port. The outer hatch is part of the shuttle’s outer skin for flight, and is then extended out, up as far as five feet, a foot at a time. The docking device is the same as the International Space Station and can be used for connecting with both Russian and NASA external hatches.”

“And this is an exact replica of the one you lost a few weeks ago?” Tom Ward asked.

“Yes, we have inspected the cargo door seals and systems, and believe we found a minor problem, and have rectified it. I doubt we can complete the race to dock humans at the ISS, but on the next flight, at least three orbits of earth will be achieved.”

“Pity about Colonel Sinclair, she was a good and hard-working pilot,” said General Saunders.

“Yes, an unfortunate and very sad moment,” replied Ryan looking solemn.

“She was pilot-in-command?” General Mortimer inquired.

“No, co-pilot. Another one of your retired Air Force test pilots was pilot-in-command,” replied Ryan.

“So, what are your chances of winning this race?” asked Joe Bishop, an older plump man in his late sixties, with a blatantly arrogant streak.

“Unfortunately not good after our last disaster,” Ryan continued. “Our shuttle here,
Silver Bullet II,
is far ahead of her time, thanks to my team. We have employed several ex-NASA guys, a dozen or so Russian scientists, all current American citizens may I add, and a few scientists from the European Space Agency, also all recent U.S. citizens. She is far superior in flight to anything the British team, or Martin at Earth-Exit have put together and, after this race is over, I hope that NASA might take me up on my offer to take my shuttle and continue to supply the ISS from Florida. I would be more than happy to one day work on an even more advanced spacecraft with them.”

“Does everyone on your team have U.S. citizenship?” asked Joe Bishop.

“Correct. I didn’t final-contract anyone without citizenship, and asked those who didn’t have it, to become citizens. This is an American project after all. The ex-president kindly helped me obtain citizenship for several of my specialists after hearing the fantastic capabilities these men and women brought with them. I was quite surprised how quickly the State Department, or whichever department was involved, got the necessary papers together.”

“What happens if you don’t win, Mr. Richmond.? Will this billion dollar operation be a waste of your money?” asked Tom Ward.

“I don’t think so. I’m willing to work with NASA in the future. This project has been a dream of mine since I was a kid, and shall I say, this very expensive hobby is far more exciting than anything I have previously done. I was aboard the first shuttle when we completed one orbit and returned to earth late last year, and I feel I have already got my money’s worth. I also hope to be on one of the shuttles into space very soon, hence the two extra seats in the cockpit. That will be my reward for success, whether I’m beaten or not, Mr. Ward.”

“What are in all the other hangars?” asked Tom Ward directly. Ryan had been waiting for this one question and replied.

“Understand Mr. Ward, there are several liquid gases needed for space flight. One hangar produces liquid oxygen, one each produces, liquid nitrogen, helium, argon, and of course liquid hydrogen. Each gas must be separated and kept separated, or this part of Nevada could look like the old nuclear test facility it was during the 1950s. One is for the production of xenon gas, the main fuel we use as a backup for liquid hydrogen in space. Another hangar is our computer hardware and software integration systems; the first hangar is our production plant for our space suits. We are not NASA, Mr. Ward we make everything here on site.”

“And those panels on the trucks that have been dropping by here for the last year?” asked Joe Bishop.

“We use those panels as sterile room panels, just like NASA needs to build space parts and pieces inside sterile compartments inside the hangars. Plastic doesn’t work and without those panels there is little chance that my project could ever make space, never mind win this race,” Ryan replied unblinking and honestly.

“Can we see inside the hangars, Mr. Richmond?” Tom Ward asked.

“Unfortunately, no, Mr. Ward. They are sealed from the inside. Many of the scientists working in there live in those sterile environments, and even I don’t go in there until a project is finished, and it is safe for me to enter. I haven’t been in Hangar One over there for a month. They are building a more sophisticated docking chamber and Hangars Two and Four are beginning to build a replacement shuttle and were sealed only last week. They are sealed now for the next several months.”

How do the people working in there eat and sleep?” asked General Mortimer.

“We pass food through a hatch once a day. It enters their living chamber. They cannot enter their working areas until they have gone through a shower and dust collector system, the same used in the European Space program. Different shifts enter for a week and then swap out. I was told that Airbus has the same sterilization systems for their intricate work areas.”

“So does Boeing,” added General Saunders.

“Pity, I would have felt better having a full tour,” added Joe Bishop. “But, hearing that all the people working here are citizens, and that you could be working closely with NASA in the future makes me feel more confident.”

“More confident about what, may I ask?” replied Ryan.

“We, at the NSA, have to always be sure that there are no hidden agendas in large projects, Mr. Richmond. We have the American public to protect. Tom Ward and I have seen things around the world which would shock most people. We also need to know what is going on across America, to protect the population and, of course, the government. Your project was becoming suspect with all the materials being shipped in here. Also, and thanks to the ex-Commander In Chief, you were allowed some of our plutonium-238. Where is that?”

“Unfortunately somewhere in the far corners of space,” replied Ryan truthfully. “It went up with our last flight. Is there any chance of some more?”

“I doubt it, Mr. Richmond,” replied Joe Bishop. “The new president certainly wouldn’t allow any more. How is the government going to be compensated for the last load that was destroyed?”

“I believe the $10 million I paid Congress for the loan of the plutonium will help compensate for its loss,” added Ryan sarcastically.

“You paid for the stuff?” Tom Ward asked.

“That is correct, Mr. Ward. I paid that amount for a twenty-four month loan of second-hand, and virtually useless, plutonium-238, something any terrorist agency wouldn’t even want or find of much use.”

“Oh!” replied both men and left it there.

“General Mortimer, I would like to fly your C-5 Galaxy to Europe, via Andrews and Ramstein for refueling and then on to Turkey,” continued Ryan, facing the two Air Force officers. “May I have permission to do this one flight? And I would accept three of my four remaining Air Force offered tanks of JP-8, one at Andrews and Ramstein for the outward flight, then part of a load from a KC-125 tanker over the English Channel, and then a second KC-25 over the U.S. East Coast during the return flight. Bob Mathews and Captain Sullivan will be the pilots and your Captain Pitt has become a good C-5 flight engineer. Since we are flying empty, I don’t need any of your pilots for this extended flight, just your permission.”

“What reason would you need to fly the C-5 to Turkey, and why would you need in-flight refueling?” asked the general.