Somebody Else's Space Program
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Chapter Fifty Seven "Foundation of the future, courier of dreams.
Thunder on."
"Envyss, you're going to be CapCom for the first shoot."
Envyss looked startled. "Ross wanted that."
"Can't do it. He still hesitates with the language, and he's going to be facing the press before, during and after the launch, and he can't concentrate on both. As his deputy, you're familiar with the systems, but not tied up with any one department."
"Understood. You've told him, haven't you?"
"I told him he was off the list. I didn't tell him who was getting it."
Envyss sighed heavily. "You had to leave that to me."
"Is it going to be a problem?"
"No."
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Final selection for the first flier was down to three -- all test pilots, all with more sense than Talsarn. Josgoroth had a word with Ross. "You don't know anything about the clan rivalries. I don't believe that they should affect the final choice, so I'm leaving it up to you, not Flight, not Meds, although those two can give a final downcheck on a candidate. If you drop below three candidates, hold the launch until you can get more -- don't let Flight especially force your hand. After the first launch, it should be easier."
"We've finally had three tests in a row where nothing has blown up. Envyss was joking that he finally had the right assortment of prayers."
Jozh laughed, then, "I shouldn't laugh. Envyss takes his duties seriously. And test pilots are allowed to be superstitious if it helps them concentrate. I don't know anyone who knows of the launch who isn't going to be praying for a safe launch and recovery."
"Except for the saboteurs and their employers."
"Yes." Josgoroth turned and looked out over the expanse to where the launch platform stood. The windows were wide now, but would be heavily shielded on launch day. "We were able to trace one of the saboteurs back two layers, to a payment. We're watching that bank -- it's a forlorn hope, but the enemy doesn't know we've tracked them, so they might use the same method, and then we'll catch them. In the mean time, lots of security."
He turned back to Ross. "They can't stop us. All they can do is slow us down. You're authorized to launch on schedule."
"Thank you." Ross joined Josgoroth looking out to the window. "I wish your father had been here to see this."
"We wouldn't be this far along. His passion was race cars -- he would have delayed. His death freed you to start your real work."
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"Flight called me with the news. He said he didn't want you to hit me with it blind. I agree with his reasons, by the way."
"Which has nothing to do with whether or not you resent being knocked off the list, or resent my replacing you."
Ross smiled ruefully, "Envyss, the last thing the flier needs is someone who hesitates relaying information to him in an emergency. As for you replacing me... You didn't. You replaced someone else who would have been CapCon instead. So I'm actually pleased for you."
"You are _way_ too rational."
"Not exactly. My ego -- my shadow, if you like -- is tied up with the success of the progam, not with who performs a given task inside it. Find the best person, get the job done, get it done right."
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Launch day. Ross was in a suit, but Envyss showed up dressed as a flier-candidate. "I'm just a voice today. I don't want to distract anyone. I can change for the reception later."
"Yes." The big screens showed the rocket on the launch pad, waiting, steaming slightly as the liquid fuels cooled the humid air around their tanks. The final flier selected was named Theniol, with a partner and two children, all of who were at the observation platform for the launch.
In the background, the news anouncers were repeating the contents of the press release, detailing the sizes, weights,and functions of the rocket parts, minibiography of the pilot (insert pre-recorded interview with Theniol, then a pre-recorded interview with Ross).
And a pre-recorded interview with Josgoroth, surprising Ross with one of his own quotes from years before: "God isn't punishing us. We can leave our room, any time we want to. We just have to learn how to turn the doorknob."
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Final checkdown. Ross went through a long list of sub-directors, getting "Go for launch," for each answer, finally coming to Meds and Flight. "Meds. Go/no go."
"We're go for launch here, Director."
"Flight? Go/no go?"
A pause, as Flight collected one more piece of data he had been waiting for. Finally, he said, "Go for launch."
"Start the final countdown sequence."
Envyss's voice, quiet but clear in the background, relaying to and from the capsule -- CapCom is the only voice the flier heeds, to avoid confusion.
"Five minutes to launch, and counting."
Last minute details coming in, as the engines prepared to light off. "One minute to launch. Blast windows secure."
Screens showed the rocket from close cameras and far. Ross moved to stand behind Envyss's chair, just hovering, as Envyss hunched forward, concentrating on the numbers on the screen in front of him, talking to the man in the capsule.
"Thirty seconds and counting." The tower umbilicals fell away. "On internal power. Minus twenty."
On "Ten" Ross stretched out his hand, almost resting it on Envyss's shoulder, but he pulled back. That would be a distraction at the worst possible instant.
"Five. Four. three. We have ignition, the holddowns are still in place... one.
"Holddowns released, we have liftoff."
"Zero."
The blockhouse was far enough away from the launch pad that the roar of the earlier ignition reached the audience with the count of "zero."
"Flight, report."
"We're still go."
On the screen, some of the cameras perished with the heat of the exhaust, some, further away, transmitted a pencil line of fire with a light house on top of it, all pushing one man into orbit.
Downrange as well as up, the first stage ran out of fuel and dropped away. The news people were re-running film of the launch, both from inside the blockhouse and the shots of the rocket itself.
Ross tapped lightly on Envyss's shoulder and held out a cup of fruit juice. Envyss took it, wrapping his hand around his partner's for an instant with a quick squeeze, turning back to his work after taking a sip.
"How many orbits?"
"Two and a half gives us the best weather in a recovery zone."
"Do it."
Flight scribbled some figures hastily, handed the pad to Envyss to read to Theniol. "I've got some figures for you, pilot." Careful read-off and read-back. Another note dropped in front of Envyss by Meds. He read it and grinned. "I have a message here from your partner. She says there are steaks waiting for you to put on the grill."
Laughter in the blockhouse and in the spacecraft. "I'm not sure I'll make it home for dinner tonight -- didn't you just schedule me to land in the other ocean?"
Envyss smiled, "I'll have a word with Flight about that. Stand by, but don't get your hopes up." He cut the microphone, looked up at Ross. Ross shook his head. Mike back on, "Sorry, the Director has his mind made up on that one."
Clearly, from the speakers, "Tell .. the Director... that he's just gotten un-invited to the cookout."
"Will do."
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Re-entry blackout. Envyss took the oppportunity to get up, stretch his legs. Across the room, someone kept up a quiet count aloud of the blackout time elapsed.
"What was the pause for?"
"What pause.. oh, that. Theniol almost said 'your partner' instead of 'the Director', caught himself, but paused after to emphasise it to me anyway. Just a tease. His lady was flirting with me at the last cookout."
"I was wondering why you were hovering so close to me." A change in the hiss on the speaker -- Envyss slid back into his chair. "Theniol, this is Mission control. Do you read?"
A different hiss, then "Mission Control, you can cancel the cookout -- I feel singed enough for a while."
"Copy that. We read parachute deployment..."
Cameras from the recovery fleets found the parachutes, a cheer went up in the blockhouse. "We can see you, Theniol. The recovery fleet is praactically under you."
Splashdown. Some quiet congratulations, but Ross waited until the message came through that the pilot was safely on board the recovery ship. "Nobody leaves until I have final numbers off all your boards."
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