Chapter 28

“Got a minute, Lina?”

“Hi, Dad. Sure, give me a sec to finish up.” Lina closed the display, apparently the interior of a new spacecraft that she was designing. “Okay, what’s up?”

Frenchy was curious about the display he’d seen, but decided to ask about it later. “Maybe nothing,” he said, “I got to wondering if you’re happy here. You were planning a career in architecture and this is a long way from that. Does it bother you, wasting your education?”

“Who says it was wasted?” she shot back. “I’m helping design the next generation of spaceships! It’s not traditional architecture, but it’s close enough. I’d be designing washrooms if I worked for a major firm, and if I opened my own business I’d be beating the bushes for customers! Without a reputation, people aren’t willing to risk millions of dollars by hiring an unknown. That’s why so many go to work for an established firm, just so they can work in the field. Santiago Calatrava gets to design beautiful things, billion dollar bridges and buildings, but newbies don’t get the chance to do that kind of work. I can, and in a sense, I already have. I love it here!”

“You’re also spending most of your time flying the lifters, the Bedstead and the King! And I overheard Mel talking about a pilot’s license. Are you thinking of doing that?”

“I have to,” Lina pointed out. “At some point, I want to captain my own spaceship, and Joe says I can’t do that unless I’ve got an ordinary pilot’s license first. I need to know so many things, meteorology, navigation, things like that. Chuck has promised to help me if I get stuck.”

“Speaking of Chuck, is he part of the reason why you love it here?”

“He’s part of it,” Lina confirmed. “I think maybe he’s too quick to react, but it also could be that I’m too slow. I don’t know. I just know I was terribly unhappy, even depressed when we were apart. Is that love, Dad?”

“It could be,” Frenchy acknowledged. “I can’t decide for you, but if you’re happy that’s good enough for me. But one of the reasons I brought this up is what happened to Morty; none of us live forever, and I wanted to discuss what will happen to you when I pass on.”

Lina turned pale. “Dad, are you saying you’re sick?”

“No, no, I feel fine,” Frenchy reassured her. “I had a checkup six months or so ago, blood pressure was up but not enough to be alarmed about; I just thought we should talk. You’ll inherit almost everything, you know. I made provisions for your mother, but she won’t get my business interests, you will, and that includes the company. You’ll own a significant amount of stock, not enough for an absolute majority, but assuming Chuck backs you with his shares you’ll have the votes to take over the chairmanship of the board. Someone else will be CEO, though, because you don’t have the education or experience for that. Anyway, that’s a question for later, I just wanted you to know what arrangements I’ve made.”

“Dad, you’ll be around for a long time! And I don’t want to worry about that now, I’ve got too much else to do. Want to see my concept for the cargo transport Major Hooke talked about?”

“Sure,” Frenchy said, relieved that the uncomfortable part of the discussion was over, “but there’s another project that may actually make us more money in the end. I’ve been talking to a man named Dolph Petterson. I hired him to take charge of a new department, Plans and Projects.”

“How big is this department, Dad? I thought that was what you and the board did.”

“Right now, it’s just him. Tell you what, why don’t we get together? You, Will, Chuck, Dolph, and me? I think you’ll understand why I hired him after you listen to his ideas.”

Chuck pushed the control button, starting the motors that opened the huge doors. As they slid aside, the soft light of pre-dawn banished the shadows inside the assembly area. He turned and gave Will a thumbs up, letting him know that the doors were fully open.

Impellers whined inside the assembly area and the dark gray spacecraft lifted gently from its cradle. Chuck watched carefully, then held his hands straight out to the side as soon as the ship was clear of the cradle. Using both hands in a come-here gesture, he backed away. The ship followed, moving sideways. When the far wing cleared the door, Chuck slowly swung his arms down. Will eased the big ship to the ground, allowing the skids beneath the wing roots to touch. Chuck trotted inside the assembly area and moments later, the doors began to close. Ducking underneath, Chuck waited for the automated process to finish, then headed for the open hatch leading into the ship’s cabin.

He watched to make sure the hatch sealed tight, then picked up his helmet. Unlike the converted motorcycle helmet he usually wore, this one was part of his pressure suit. Hanging the helmet by the copilot’s station, he sat down and buckled himself in.

Will sat in the left seat, watching the computer display on the forward screen change as it completed the preflight checks. Chuck glanced reassuringly at Lina and Joe, seated against the aft bulkhead and buckled in; they were the only passengers for this first flight to space.

“Any problems, Will?” Chuck asked.

“Negative, everything’s nominal. I haven’t tried the radio, but I won’t use it unless there’s an emergency and it’s worked fine during the low-level test flights. The fuel cell power plant is online, batteries are fully charged, impellers at idle, direction full up. Just waiting for you.”

“Hey, being doorman is very important! I’ve been thinking about dressing up my pressure suit with a yellow stripe down the leg, maybe even wearing a tie!”

Will chuckled. “Run your own checks, Chuck. The sky is waiting.”

Chuck watched carefully, scanning the checklist on his screen, switching his view between the printed list and the computer display. His check ran longer than Will’s had, but ten minutes later he was ready. “Checks complete, all readouts nominal. Ready when you are, Will.”

“Roger. Lifting now.” The big craft drifted slowly upward, turning gently in response to Will’s input. Moments later, forward impellers whining louder, the nose lifted and it accelerated, climbing gently.

Chuck watched the accelerometer readout drift toward the 1.25 gee line. Will eased back on the thrust from the four big impellers aft, tweaked the directional impellers located behind the radar in the nose, and the big ship began to fly. Satisfied, he took control using the airfoils as the ship headed for space.

“This won’t take long,” Will said. “We’ll take her up to 120,000 feet today, stay at that altitude long enough to see how things look, then bring her down and head for the barn. Time to put your helmets on, folks, no need to take unnecessary chances. As for your suits, don’t be surprised if the tubes inflate. We’re not flying a fighter and the cabin is pressurized to 8000 feet, so I don’t expect the gee-tubes to inflate. But if they do, close and lock your helmet faceplates immediately, just in case the cabin has sprung a leak. Interior heat is set to 70º F and the computer will automatically dump excess heat through the external radiators.”

Will was silent for a few moments, then reported, “Losing aerodynamic control, the airfoils are getting mushy. Airfoils are now centered and locked, switching to impeller steering at this time.”

“Switching to impeller steering, copy. Noted.” Chuck entered the time and altitude in his log. The ship had just passed through 80,000 feet. The ship kept rising and the sky slowly darkened. Chuck monitored the lights and gauges on his board and occasionally wrote down the altitude. The computers would generate a more-precise record, but Chuck’s handwritten notes were backup if for some reason the computer log couldn’t be retrieved.

Joe and Lina were smiling as they looked out the two small glass ports. The curvature of the Earth, seen through the two portholes, was clearly visible. Far below, white clouds blocked much of their view of the Earth’s surface.

“I’m not seeing any problems, and the flight is going as planned,” Will reported. “I’m keeping us at a constant one gee acceleration for comfort. I’ll go weightless as I get ready for turnover, then we’ll head for home, same acceleration or less; no reason to stress Joe’s ticker. What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, Will!” Lina gushed. “The stars are like ... well, it’s like the holiday lights people put up. But there’s no twinkling, just jewels on a piece of black velvet!”

“I agree, Lina, it’s beautiful. Maybe one day I’ll get used to this view, but I’m like you, it’s the kind of view that few people have ever seen. You doing okay, Joe?”

“I’m fine, Will. I didn’t experience any stress at all. It’s like flying in an airliner.”

“That was my intention, Joe. There’s no need to pull high gees, I’ve got the kind of control the Apollo and Shuttle crews could only dream about. For that matter, I could even reduce the acceleration, drop it to a half or a quarter gee. Some authorities think that a lower gee environment puts less stress on the circulatory system. Radar is clear, no airborne returns, so either no one noticed us or they think we’re a military flight. Prepare for zero gee, I’m ready for turnover, then we’ll head for home. We should be in the barn forty minutes from now. Want to take us home, Chuck?”

“Absolutely.”

“Your spacecraft, Chuck. No flat tires, okay?”

“I’ll watch out for nails, Will.” The control handoff was easily executed; Will simply lifted his hands from the commander’s panel. Chuck put his fingers on his control board and the computer continued to fly the craft. He pushed a button on the panel, initiating the automated turnover maneuver. “Powering down the impellers ... turnover now, reversing ... powering up the impellers, one half gee. We’re slowing, altitude is decreasing.” The feeling of weightlessness changed to a sensation similar to the falling sensation that passengers in an elevator feel.

Chuck watched his display, flying with impellers, but ready when the airfoils regained bite. “Skin temperature nominal, no sign of heating. I’m holding attitude with the steering impellers, trim is eight degrees up. Rate of descent, controlled by main impellers, one thousand feet per minute. I’m going to take her around in a circle, bleed off more speed and altitude. We’ll overrun the factory and have to bring it back around if I don’t. I’d rather do it up here where I’ve got altitude to burn.”