Chapter 40: Clearing the High Bar

“Do you think any of Uncle Sam’s eyes in the sky are going to notice?” I asked Hunter as we watched the special launch hanger from the control tower.

From above, there was little to distinguish that hangar from any of the others. It had the same white gleaming walls with reflective silver roofing. It was the same dimensions as the others. We had even made the other hangars the same height, adding considerably to the cost, to keep the shadows identical. The differences were about to become clear.

We had moved the orbiter into the hangar for its post flight processing. The three small pusher tractors required close teamwork to back it in. We closed the doors and post-flight processing began. Fourteen hours later, we turned it over for loading. Step one was fixing the launch cradle in place. We then retracted the landing gear, and returned the vehicle to its vertical launch position. It was this rotation that required the extra hangar height.

“Commencing hangar movement,” I heard Tamara say over the radio. She had insisted on being closer to the action and had taken it upon herself to keep us informed via radio. Her sharp eyes had already saved us some time. Procedural problems that looked good on paper, would have forced re-work in the more confined spaces of the hangar. She identified and helped fix them before they could impact our progress.

I spotted a seam of light at the center of the large rolling doors on the front of the hangar. It took a moment to realize that the seam did not stop at the transom of the door. I held my breath as the hanger split slowly down the middle. Each half rolled along the runway on concrete railings that looked like curbing to the roadway.

“Two meters, opening at one meter per second,” Tamara announced.

“If they are looking, they are going to see that,” Hunter said with a chuckle. It was several hours before dawn and the light spilling from the interior of the launch hangar lit the countryside.

“Well, let’s see if they are watching, and can report it faster than we can launch,” I said.

“Sounds like a plan,” Hunter said as he glanced at his watch. “We’ve got about twelve hours by procedure from the start of opening the hangar, until we’re ready for launch.”

“And it’s the first time we’ve run through that procedure anyplace besides the Cape. If we launch by this time tomorrow, I’ll be happy.”

“Well, even if Uncle Sam is watching, there is not much they can do out here in that time frame.”

“Aside from bitch us out,” I replied.

“Wasn’t that bound to happen, regardless?”

It was my turn to laugh, even if it was gallows humor.

“Paul, what in the hell is going on?” Kelly asked me over the phone. “I’ve got some seriously pissed off people yelling at me, about you conducting illegal launches from Kenya.”

“How are they illegal?” I asked with what I hoped was conciliatory tone.

I heard her sigh.

“I asked the same question. The closest thing I got to an answer was illegally exported technology with military application. What are you doing?”

“We aborted a test launch three days ago and landed the orbiter in Kenya. It was a faulty sensor. We’re going to re-launch and then we will return the orbiter to the U.S.”

“What about a payload? Some gentlemen from the CIA are insisting that you loaded at least one satellite aboard. Is that true.”

“What difference does it make if it is? I do have contracts to launch satellites.”

“Paul, do you know what this is going to look like on the hill?”

“You tell me,” I said.

I hoped for what it would look like.

“It’s going to look like you are thumbing your nose at Congress. You know there is a vote on the bill, next week. This is going to look like you are grandstanding to make congress look bad.”

“T minus seven minutes,” Came over the announcing system in the control bunker. “Commence final systems checks,” Hunter added.

He was the acting flight controller today.

“Kelly, the only people making congress look bad is, as usual, congress. They’ve been playing politics for two months. I’m building a technical capability and showing the world that I can deliver on my promises of cheap tonnage to orbit. I also don’t have to fund the horrific red-tape of the beltway. Once this launch is successful, from Kenya, I’ll have any country in the world interested in cheap orbital capability beating down my door. If the U.S. wants some of that capacity, tell your people to get off their asses!”

“Paul, it’s not that simple,” she said.

“Yes ... it ... is. In seven minutes, I’ll show you that. We demonstrated a turnaround time on launches of three days. We will lift more tonnage to orbit with this launch than the shuttle delivered all last year. I don’t want this to come between us, but I am going to make good on this effort, regardless of Congress. Feel free to let them know that.”

“Paul!”

I hung up the phone, and switched it off. I pulled my headset back on and checked the status displays before settling my gaze on the video feed of the launch stand.

“T minus five minutes. All personnel are undercover, and accounted for.”

We had three remote cameras on the launch stand fitted in the area that was the rear area of the hangar. The two half-buildings were five hundred meters apart. Protective aerogel/carbon-fiber panels closed off their interiors. The launch stand held the orbiter over a flame pit, lined with similar material, and designed to deflect the exhaust blast away from the runway, while cooling it with a water bath.

“Activating water bath,” Hunter said as if on cue.

“T minus two minutes.”

I waited, scanning the monitor for any signs of trouble.

“T minus ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,” I saw the auto ignition sequence begin, “four, three, two, one--” Light flared under the orbiter-- “Zero.” The hold-backs released on schedule. “Lift-off!”

The vehicle leapt into the air even as we felt the rumble of its power through the ground around us.

“Tracking is good,” I head one of the controllers say.

“T plus ten. Velocity at 900 meters per second, altitude four point five klicks and climbing.”

With the six satellites, we were pushing nine point two G’s and aiming for an orbit of 600 kilometers. That meant continuing to accelerate for just under two minutes. I watched the telemetry as it continued to track on our projected path.

“T plus thirty. Velocity is 2,705 meters per second. Altitude forty point five. All systems are go.”

A red “Breaking News” banner on the CNN feed caught my eye. I flipped one switch to pipe its audio into my left earpiece.

“We have just received a report of an orbital launch by PT Innovations, from Kenya,” the announcer said. “Official spokesperson, Billy Salz has notified our international desk that PT Innovations has successfully launched one of its GO-X Prime orbiters from its facilities in Kenya. The orbiter is carrying payloads for three different companies. Additionally, they have provided us with this dramatic footage of the launch.”

I watched as the video feed cut to what we had just watched live and smiled. Billy and Tom were in on our plans and were working to put our version of the story out before the politicians could grandstand. I was happy they were being this quick on the news, as long as we made orbit successfully.

“T plus sixty,” Hunter announced. “Velocity five four one zero meters per second. Altitude one six two klicks. All systems green.”

“In addition to this dramatic nighttime launch footage, PT Innovations has informed us that the vehicle turned-around in seventy-eight hours after it touched down in Kenya, following a launch abort test from Cape Canaveral. This performance well exceeds the expectations of both NASA and the GAO, as set forth in the President’s SHARE Act, which is still waiting approval by the Senate and the House. CNN will continue to bring you updates on this developing story.”

I smiled and flipped my earphone setting back to its normal channel.

“T plus ninety. Velocity is eighty-one fifteen. Altitude three six five kilometers.”

I continued to watch the screens. The next thirty seconds would write the finale to this story.

“Engine shutdown at T plus one fifteen. Orbit appears stable at five ninety-six kilometers.”

“Hallelujah!” someone shouted.

Everyone broke into smiles and I felt hands slapping my back and reaching to shake my hand.

“Congratulations are definitely in order, Mister Taylor,” Minister Khalil said as he shook my hand. He had asked for a meeting in Switzerland before I returned to the States following our launch in Kenya.

“Thank you, Minister. What can I do for you, sir?”

His smile looked almost genuine. I wondered if he was just happy to get down to business.

“Firstly, I wanted to thank you for the fine training you are giving my son. He has told me much of what he is learning.”

“I’ve heard he is doing well on his first assignment. I’m sure he has shared some of the improvements we’ve made on the systems that should allow us to relax some of the operating constraints we previously had.”

“Yes. That is very exciting. My government wondered how you would handle your control concerns with the fusion generators in your desalination plants. For the people of Somalia, I am glad you found a way. Allah has been merciful to you.”

I smiled. “But that is not what you are most interested in, is it?”

He shook his head.

“Of course not. I, and the leadership of Iran, are very interested in how we could work more closely with you to bring such wonderful technology to our nation. We would also like to open discussions about creating a similar chartering process to what you are trying to create with your president’s SHARE act.”

I was surprised. I said as much.

“Iran has always been a cross roads of the trading world,” the minister explained. “While we are guided by Allah, may he ever be merciful, we are a people of commerce. You have changed the world’s view of oil, so we know the power it has given the Arab world will wane. We have minerals and resources, but we can see that you seek to supplant those as well, so what will remain for our people?” he paused to sip his tea.

“We have trained minds and willing spirits, Mister Taylor, that deserve the chance to be unbound from earth and seek a destiny with any great nation. That is what we want, but I know you are a pragmatic man, so I asked myself what you may need. That was a much harder question to seek an answer for.”

“I am interested in hearing what conclusion you reached, sir,” I replied.

He smiled again.

“It was not easy. You have wealth and power already. You have a beautiful family. You have the adoration of a generation of young minds. There is very little you do not have, aside from the political hurdles that seem to rise before you on a regular basis. Perhaps that is an area we can help you with.”

“Hence the chartering opportunity,” I said.

He nodded.

“The United States is a party to the Outer Space Treaty while Iran is only a signatory. We have not yet ratified that treaty, internally. For appropriate consideration, we would be willing to add very beneficial language to our law, as part of the ratification process.”

It was an interesting offer.

“Such as?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“You would need to propose what would best suit your needs and plans, but what if we gave you de facto rights for consultation under article nine of that treaty? Would that be beneficial to you? Or perhaps we give you duty free status for any materials returned from orbit, or trans-shipped through an Iranian launch facility? There are many opportunities.”

He was right. There were a multitude of potential avenues. I would need to give his idea some serious thought.

“And what sort of consideration would interest you, Minister?”

He smiled.

“We too, would need time to discuss and think on this matter. My desire, today, was simply to sound you out on such an offer, and determine if it was worth further discussion. You may find yourself embroiled in politics when you return home. I wanted to ensure you knew there were many alternate paths to whatever goal you seek.”

“You have given me much to think on, sir. I will be in touch after I have had time to reflect and assess.”

“Until then, go with Allah, Mister Taylor.”

“That’s so much crap, Paul,” Tamara said as I shared my conversation with her and Hunter on the flight from Switzerland to Dublin. “Iran and the Middle East have exported three things in recent history; oil, dates, and teachings of fundamental Islam.”

She was right, and she was wrong. I knew how much worse it had been in my prior life by this point of time.

“And perhaps commerce with the world would change that,” I said.

“A leopard can’t change its spots,” she concluded and sat back with her arms crossed. I sighed.

“What do you think, Hunter?”

He shrugged. “Detente with Iran would be a good thing, if they actually tone down the rhetoric and police their own nut-jobs. Unfortunately, they have a real western hater as their supreme leader. They have little reason to love the U.S. after some of the things we did for oil and for the Shah. I don’t know if this would be a good thing or not for the world. Having options, in case things go sideways with Congress, might not be a bad contingency plan, however.”

“My thinking as well,” I said. “While I would prefer doing business with the U.S. of A., it may not work out that way.”

We continued to bat around ideas for the remainder of the flight until landing in Dublin. Lila was waiting for us.

“You’ve kicked a hornet’s nest, Paul,” Lila warned after giving Hunter an enthusiastic welcome kiss.

“Alison and Jeryl both insisted I meet you in person and let you know you need to fly directly to Washington. They will meet you there with security. General Baker wants you to call as soon as you land. Hunter should stay here and activate our alternate flight control plans.”

“They kicked us out of the Cape?” I asked.

Lila shook her head. “Not yet, but some idiots are suggesting it. Kelly is working to try and get people to react logically instead of emotionally, but the Democrats are pissed and the Republicans feel betrayed.”

“Why?”

“Everyone has their own reasons, but they all boil down to you making them look foolish. That’s a cardinal sin in politics.”

I shook my head. “Where are Billy and Tom?”

“They’ll be on the same plane as Jeryl and Alison. As soon as you’re refueled, you need to take off and head west.”

“Okay. Get the fuel trucks going and I’ll make a couple of calls. Hunter, you’ve got control of orbital operations until I tell you otherwise. If they screw us over with facilities, we’ll just land in Kenya again. Keep the crew close on standby.”

“Will do, Boss.”

“Here’s Jeryl,” Tamara said as she handed me my phone.

“Hi, honey. How are the kids?” I asked.

“Ali and Jer are fine. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, but Lila is looking daggers at me. What’s going on?”

“Congress is blustering, just as you feared. Tom and Billy are all over the news outlets, but you should be ready for them as soon as you land. Tom will be meeting you with a few select stations to begin coverage. We’re in control of the story much more so than any politician, but we need to stay on top of it.”

“Okay. Has our pitch changed?”

“No. We’re just proving the numbers promised in the bill and building our operational capability. The talking heads are loving it; pointing out that both houses had months to ask meaningful questions and investigate. They chose to squander time instead, positioning their districts and states for a better slice of pork. The President went on the record encouraging the leadership to put the bill to a vote. It will likely come to the house floor tomorrow. The Senate’s version will probably be Saturday, according to Kelly.”

“It’s about time. So, I keep to our story?”

“That’s right. Don’t let them pull you into the political fray. That will only open you up to the mud slinging that is already starting.”

“Okay. How’s Kelly?”

“Pissed off, and taking it out on us instead of the other Senators that created this mess. I’ve told her to take advantage of the situation and make sure she is the voice of reason. I think she’s listening to me.”

“Good. Anything else I need to know before taking off?”

“No. I’ll see you in Washington. Try to get a little rest on the flight. I think it’s going to be busy once you land.”

She could not have spoken truer words. Dozens of camera crews were waiting as we pulled up to the hangar at National several hours later. I saw Tom and Billy had a podium on a riser in-front of the crowd as I stepped down from the plane. The popping of flashes nearly made me miss my step.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’ll provide a prepared statement and then open for questions,” I said as I settled behind the podium.

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