Asteroid Diversion Page 7

  Ghost leaned into Gunner and whispered, “He’s very hands-on. I didn’t tell you this before, but he was present for almost the entirety of your operation. Director Ford broke protocol and scrambled the 176th at Elmendorf to ward off the pursuing Russian fighter jets as you hustled home. As he put it, ‘We protect our assets, especially the ones with that kind of talent.’”

  Gunner chuckled. “I’ve been called a lot of things, especially asshole. Talented is not one I’ve heard very often.”

  Ghost smiled. “Let’s just say talented asshole and leave it at that, shall we?”

  Director Ford returned to them and apologized. “Sorry for the interruption. It’s been a busy twenty-four hours. Corporal!” he shouted to his aide, who was standing off to the side. It was a heavy-handed approach to someone who was only ten feet away.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Fetch the NASA liaison from the DOD and bring him to my office. He needs to meet this young man, and we can brief him, albeit briefly.” Director Ford laughed at his word repetition.

  “Yes, sir.” The corporal excused himself and headed for the elevator.

  Director Ford led Ghost and Gunner to the back of the massive operations center into a room that stretched along the entire back wall. In addition to his desk, which was flanked by the U.S. flag and the Army’s flag, a round conference table set in the middle of the room was surrounded by fabric-covered barrel chairs, and a large conference table made up of touch-screen computer monitors filled the last third of the space.

  “Gentlemen, take a seat here,” the director said brusquely, pointing at the round table. Folders were set neatly in a stack at the center of the table. “There’s a folder for each of you, but I’d prefer you wait until the DOD man arrives. I need to keep an eye on the floor.”

  Like the head of a casino’s security team, Director Ford adjusted his headset and began to slowly pace the length of his office along the window, adjusting his earpiece from time to time and pressing a button that changed its channels.

  Ghost and Gunner exchanged glances and sat patiently while they awaited the fourth member to attend the briefing. Moments later, a gentle tapping at the door preceded the corporal, who brought with him Colonel Maxwell Robinson of the Department of Defense, and the military liaison to NASA’s Johnson Space Center.

  Gunner immediately noticed the colonel’s face when they made eye contact. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, and it wasn’t in reference to Gunner’s former commander sitting to his right. The man’s demeanor struck Gunner as odd and immediately put him on edge that the DOD representative was already familiar with him.

  Introductions were made, and Director Ford instructed the three attendees to open their folders. The trio thumbed through the combination of reports and satellite images of yesterday’s Falcon Heavy launch, together with the subsequent explosion of the space orbiter.

  Director Ford was known for getting to the point, and he didn’t change his approach today. “Russian artificial intelligence aboard one of their orbiting defense satellites ordered the destruction of our orbiter shortly after the main engine cut off yesterday. According to their ambassador, once the orbiter was under its own power, their computer technology determined that it was hostile. Seconds later, the orbiter was obliterated by a ballistic missile.”

  “Nukes? In space?” asked Ghost.

  “Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” mumbled Director Ford as he changed channels on his headset again.

  Gunner noticed that Colonel Robinson was studying him, but he resisted the urge to look at him. Let the DOD man play his game. He addressed the director. “Sir, if the Russians deemed the orbiter to be a threat, then is it safe to conclude their AI mistook our launch as a nuclear provocation?”

  “Yes, and no, Major. Our orbiter was carrying a nuclear payload; it just wasn’t destined for a Russian target.”

  Ghost dropped his folder on the table with a thud. “What?”

  Director Ford, without turning around, responded, “Colonel, would you like to explain?”

  Colonel Robinson cleared his throat and answered Ghost. “The orbiter’s primary mission was to initiate a diversionary tactic known as the orbital slingshot method. If this tactic failed, then the commander and his crew were prepared to give their lives by instituting a contingency plan ordered by the president.”

  “A nuclear payload,” Gunner surmised.

  “That’s correct, Major,” continued Robinson. “NASA’s testing with kinetic impactors has been successful in the past, but not on this magnitude, obviously. In the event the orbital slingshot method was unsuccessful, then, quite simply, the commander of the orbiter would fly it into the asteroid at a high rate of speed. The resulting explosion would hopefully knock IM86 off its current trajectory in time to divert it away from Earth.”

  “Hopefully?” asked Gunner. He was incredulous. In his mind, this had been an ill-conceived plan from the beginning. “Eleven people were destined to die whether by the Russian missile or by crashing into an asteroid.”

  “Not necessarily, Major,” countered Colonel Robinson. “The orbital slingshot method was a viable alternative to—”

  Director Ford cut off the debate. “It’s water under the bridge, gentlemen. The debate is not ours to have. We have new orders, and it’s our duty to carry them out.”

  “I agree,” interjected Ghost. “Let’s get into the details so that I can get Major Fox on his way.”

  “To where?” asked Gunner.

  “Your new ride.”

  Chapter 12

  Saturday, April 14

  Wallops Flight Facility

  Wallops Island, Virginia

  Gunner was lost in his thoughts as the newly commissioned MV-22C Osprey tiltrotor transport tore across the late afternoon sky toward the Wallops Flight Facility a hundred forty miles to their east. The bizarre developments weighed heavily on his mind as the Osprey pilot made a wide sweep across the Wallops Island National Wildlife Refuge, skirting Watts Bay as he began to adjust his tiltrotors and dropped down to a smooth landing adjacent to the NASA building on Stubbs Boulevard.

  He and Ghost, together with the mysterious Colonel Robinson, sat in silence during the quick flight. That was fine with Gunner. He had a lot of questions for Ghost, including gaining background information on the colonel. Gunner had an uneasy feeling about the NASA liaison and was anxious to quiz Ghost about him when he had the opportunity.

  For now, he had to grapple with the prospect of not only flying into space, but also that his mission was to pilot an unproven spacecraft loaded with nuclear armaments. It caused him to pause and wonder if he wouldn’t be better served to exit the Osprey and run for his life.

  Wallops Island was one of NASA’s oldest launch sites. With the expansion of Cape Canaveral and the onset of private contractors like SpaceX using locations in Texas, the NASA facility here had been diminished in importance.

  Today, it was still used for intelligence satellite launches and the testing of experimental aircraft, similar to what Gunner did for the Air Force at Eglin. Gunner had never been to the facility, but knew Wallops Island to be NASA’s base of operations hidden from the media spotlight.

  Once they landed, Gunner’s eyes were blinded by a mammoth shape glistening in the distance. His heart almost stopped as he shielded his eyes from the shiny silver object rising into the sky.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Gunner.

  “That is your new ride, or at the least the first leg of your mission, the SpaceX Starship,” replied Ghost. “It’s designed to carry us to the Moon and even to Mars once the Merlin engines are fine-tuned. For now, it is part of your mission to destroy IM86.”

  “You’re joking, right? I’m supposed to fly that shiny-lookin’—” Gunner caught himself before he made reference to a phallic symbol, in deference to his all-female crew, who could hear him over the comms.

  “Actually, this is only part of your mission, Major,” replied Colonel Robinson, who
’d remained mostly quiet during the briefing with Director Ford and during the flight to Wallops Island. “The Starship will carry you to the lunar outpost. From there, a different hypersonic aircraft will be within your command.”

  The Osprey’s rotors began to slow, and the ground personnel on the tarmac prepared for their exit. Gunner couldn’t take his eyes off the Starship, and the moment the doors opened, he shot out of the Osprey and began to walk briskly at first, and then broke out into a fast trot to get a closer look at Liquid Silver, the nickname applied to the Starship by SpaceX founder Elon Musk.

  Ghost tried to contain his high-spirited fighter pilot. “Gunner! Wait. We have to go inside for a briefing first!”

  Ignoring his former mentor’s commands, something the two of them had come to expect from the protégé, Gunner continued until he met up with several NASA engineers dressed in white coveralls adorned with the NASA meatball-design logo featuring a planet, the stars of space, and a red chevron wing representing the aeronautics missions associated with the agency.

  A white circular streak was indicative of an orbiting spacecraft. Gunner found this aspect of the logo ironic. It implied that the spacecraft left and then returned to its point of origin, something that was not always the case. It was a sobering reminder of the task at hand, yet it didn’t damper his excitement.

  One of the NASA ground personnel saw his approach and immediately held both hands in the air, indicating that Gunner should stop. “Sir, this is a restricted area. You should not be on the tarmac or anywhere near this spacecraft.”

  Gunner heeded the man’s warning to an extent, stopping just short of the Starship and looking skyward. Liquid Silver resembled a stainless-steel Airstream trailer that was designed to perform like a space shuttle, only it was shaped like a glycerin suppository.

  The diameter of the spacecraft was roughly thirty feet, and it was easily a hundred feet tall. The Merlin engine assembly was enormous. The three men surrounding Gunner could easily fit within one of its cones.

  “Gunner! We need to go inside!” Ghost had caught up with him and was now insistent. Gunner understood his tone, having differentiated between Ghost’s subtle suggestions and direct orders in the past.

  “Roger that, sir,” said Gunner, who tore himself away from the spacecraft but managed one last, long look before joining his commander.

  The three men ducked inside the Wallops Flight Facility building adjacent to the tarmac. They were greeted by several NASA personnel, all carrying computer tablets and casually dressed, the norm for governmental agencies outside the military.

  After introductions were made, the trio were escorted into a video-conferencing room, which included scale models of the Starship as well as two other aircraft.

  Gunner couldn’t contain his excitement. “I’ve already seen this bad boy,” he began, pointing at the Starship. “What are these other two?”

  One of the NASA engineers replied, “This is the new Boeing x-59 QueSST experimental aircraft. It’s designed for quiet supersonic travel, eliminating the disruptive sonic booms that prevented commercial supersonic flights in the past.”

  The engineer casually walked to the other corner of the room in front of a scale model of a spaceship similar in design to the one located outside. It, however, more closely resembled the recently decommissioned space shuttles, which had been replaced by a bus-style transport that ferried astronauts and supplies to and from the lunar outpost.

  “This beauty is known as the Starhopper. It’s the same technology and basic design as the Starship you observed outside, only it’s smaller and has the maneuvering capability of an Earth-based aircraft.”

  Gunner was intrigued and couldn’t resist approaching the model to run his hands along the top as if he were petting Howard. He turned to the NASA engineers and began peppering them with questions. “Does it have the horsepower to get to the Moon, or is it simply an Earth orbiter?”

  “It can reach the Moon, but then it requires refueling,” one of them replied. “Depending on the mission, the Starhopper would be coupled with a Falcon 9 rocket to propel it into space, where it would then reach deeper points of destination, like Mars. Otherwise, it’s powered by the Raptors.”

  Gunner persisted in his questioning. “Do you fly it to the Moon?”

  The engineer was hesitant for a moment. “Well, this spacecraft wasn’t initially designed for that purpose, so thus far, it hasn’t undergone a trip to the lunar outpost. We’ve been utilizing the combination of the Starship together with our Falcon 9s instead.”

  A puzzled look came over Gunner’s face. The engineer was skating around the question.

  “However,” interjected another NASA engineer, “the Starhopper is capable of deep-space exploration if it launches from the lunar surface. You see, because of Earth’s atmosphere and tremendous gravitational pull, it takes a very large amount of thrust to get a spacecraft to even the lowest Earth orbit. In space, with the lesser gravity of the Moon, Newton’s third law of physics works to our benefit.”

  Gunner interrupted. “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

  “That’s correct, Major. Consider a balloon. When you blow it full of air and then let it go without tying a knot, the air rushes out and propels the balloon in an opposite direction. It’s Newton’s third law that governs the launch of a heavy rocket into space. Fighting the immense gravitational pull and atmosphere of Earth, we need a lot of propellant.

  “Now, consider this. If we’re able to use a similar amount of propellant in a rocket that’s launched in a weightless atmosphere, with far less gravity, like the Moon, we can push ourselves deeper through the vacuum of space. Once in flight, unlike planes that require air to lift them up, we can use only slight amounts of force to maneuver and move forward. The more force, the faster we travel. Using only a slight amount of propellant, we’ll still get to our destination, just in a longer period of time.”

  Gunner studied the two spacecraft. “Do you have the capability of launching the Starhopper from the lunar surface?”

  Again, a slight hesitation took place before one of them responded, “Capability, yes. Have we done it in practice? Not yet. Um, you’ll be the first.”

  Most of the people in attendance received a response from Gunner they did not expect.

  “Great! Let’s get started!”

  PART TWO

  ASTROMETRY

  Identification Number: Unknown

  Right Ascension: 16 hours 44 minutes 35 seconds

  Declination: -19 degrees 22 minutes 55 seconds

  Greatest Elongation: 66.0 degrees

  Nominal Distance from Earth: 0.25 astronomical units

  Relative Velocity: 30,056 meters per second

  Chapter 13

  Sunday, April 15

  Publix Super Market

  Tallahassee, Florida

  Pop first sensed that something was amiss as he approached the Publix Super Market at Forest Village in Tallahassee, Florida, when the traffic was backed up on the highway at least a mile before he reached Lake Munson. It was a Sunday morning, his favorite day to travel into the big city.

  Tallahassee, despite being the state’s capital, ranked well down the list of population centers in Florida, at fourteenth behind towns that aren’t familiar to most people around the country, like Bonita Springs, Lakeland, and Melbourne. The Florida Panhandle was sparsely populated, with large swaths of land being designated as state or national parks, or owned by the large U.S. Air Force bases at Pensacola, Tyndall, and Eglin.

  Nonetheless, Tallahassee offered Pop the big-city amenities such as Walmart, a shopping mall, and his favorite supermarket—Publix. So every Sunday morning, he loaded up a couple of coolers and made the sixty-mile trip into Tallahassee for provisions.

  He’d spoken with Gunner briefly that morning. His son had explained they wouldn’t have very many opportunities to talk over the next several days, and sadly, he couldn’t provide Pop the details of what the go
vernment was asking him to do.

  Pop said he understood and he simply asked Gunner to try to be safe in whatever mission he’d been tasked. Gunner’s response was stated confidently. “I’ll try means I might fail. For me, there’s only do.”

  It was that confidence that Pop had instilled in his son when he was a young boy and, much to his chagrin, Gunner lived life on the edge as a result. After the conversation, Pop was reassured, and with a lighter step, he decided to drive his Ford Mustang convertible on the back roads leading into the city.

  The Chiclet blue pony, as Gunner referred to it, was part of Pop’s self-awarded retirement package. It was way too fast, but it seemed to fit the lifestyle he’d adopted after his days in the Air Force. At least, as his wife said, the wheels stayed on the ground. She silently cursed him the day he purchased the Cessna seaplane. At first she’d acquiesced, never thinking he’d go through with it. When he did, a chill came over the Fox family dinners for several nights.

  With Gunner gone for an indeterminate amount of time, Pop would be shopping light and chose to put his Mustang through the paces. The highway was generally free from traffic on Sunday mornings, and the county deputies didn’t bother with speed traps as a result.

  Pop entered the final S curve before Lake Munson a little too fast and found himself standing on the brakes as a long line of cars entering the city was stopped ahead. Cursing and questioning what was going on, he inched along the final mile to Publix, barely approaching ten miles per hour. Stop and go, brake lights as far as the eye could see.

  Crawfordville Road widened, and Pop noticed that virtually all the vehicles were making their way into a jam-packed Publix parking lot. He shook his head in dismay, wondering if perhaps he’d been transported into September on the morning of a Florida State Seminoles football game. His next thought was the fact he hadn’t paid attention to the weather.