On to the Asteroid

by Travis S. Taylor

  “Deploying now,” came a calm, male and oddly familiar voice from speakers hidden somewhere in the room. Downey was apparently talking to the display computer.

  Within the holographic projection, around the core cylinder and the habitat and deploying from the truss were six booms, each with a large black box attached; three on each side of core module and habitat section.

  “Did you just call the computer Hal?”

  “Yes, I did. I’m a big fan of old science fiction movies. We thought it would be fun.”

  “And the voice, you even used the same voice?” Paul got the humor. He liked it, actually.

  “That took some doing, but yes. Why not?” Paula asked him.

  “Well, for starters, you know that bad things came of that computer. You didn’t program the one on the ship that way did you?” He wasn’t seriously concerned but the lighthearted tone relaxed the two of them a bit. It was something for pilot and engineer to lightly bond over.

  “Of course not. The psychs would never have allowed it. Though we were tempted…” Downey said with her disarming smile in full bloom.

  “So, tell me more about these magnetic shields. I’ve been reading about the concept for years but I didn’t know it was mature enough to use yet.”

  “They wouldn’t be, if you were on a solar-powered spacecraft. But with the nuclear reactor, you’ve got plenty of power available, so why not?” Downey then walked up to the 3D image of one of the deployed booms.

  “In this box is a superconducting magnet. It’s made from a new class of high temperature superconductors that don’t have to be kept at liquid nitrogen temperatures of minus 452 degrees. Keeping something near absolute zero is pretty tough. These can operate at temperatures of up to 150 degrees without degrading. And, unlike most other superconductors, they don’t lose their ability to conduct current if the ambient magnetic field is too strong. That makes them perfect for making magnets.”

  “Together, when current is flowing, these magnets can shield against all but the most energetic of the galactic cosmic rays and completely shield the crew against radiation in the solar wind and from solar storms. It’s our version of a deflector screen.” She pointed first at the box in front of them and then waived her arms to include all six boom and magnet sets. “The magnets each are capable of producing a three-tesla field. The total combined is a whopping eighteen teslas. That is, like, particle accelerator strong.”

  “So the solar radiation gets bent around the ship and doesn’t pass through to the crew?” Paul asked.

  “That’s right.” Downy seemed happy that he was following her so easily. “Most of it is deflected back into empty space. The only things we can’t stop completely are the galactic cosmic rays. They are so massive, mostly carbon and iron, and moving so fast that we just can’t build a magnetic field strong enough to stop all of them. Maybe the third or fourth generation system will be able to, but not this one.”

  “I bet that saved a lot of weight on the ship,” Paul said.

  “Tons. Mostly water. If we had gone with the more traditional approach, we would have needed to put up to three meters of water around the habitat to act as shielding, making it pretty darn heavy to launch or move around.”

  “What about the artificial gravity? The ship is designed to slowly spin along the truss axis to simulate the gravity on Mars and there hasn’t been any mention of me training to perform the spin-up and spin-down maneuvers.”

  “You won’t be using it much. We designed the ship to include the capability to simulate Martian gravity for the duration of the trip by spinning, but you’re not going to Mars and you won’t be in space long enough to suffer the worst of the biological effects resulting from being in a close to zero gravity environment. So, you will only need to spin up a few hours a week to help prevent any medical issues. This trip will be a short hop for the Tamaroa and the engineers just don’t believe it is worth the risk. We may let you test it on the way home to make sure it works and reduce the risk for the first Mars mission.”

  “Having a little gravity would be nice,” Paul argued.

  “I wish I could say I understand. I would love to go where you’re going but I wasn’t selected for the astronaut program. Funny, they never really said why.”

  “What else have you got to show me?” asked Gesling.

  “Lots. Let’s start with the new oxygen regeneration system. It can…”

  Paul and Paula spent the next two hours reviewing all the major subsystems in the Tamaroa. At the end, Paul didn’t feel as overwhelmed as he had before. Having the ship’s chief engineer provide personal, though virtual, tour went a long way to alleviate his concerns.

  Now all he and his crew had to do was get from the surface of the Earth and into space so they could board the Tamaroa and start the mission.

  CHAPTER 16

  “It doesn’t really matter if we are a day late, but a week late might mean the difference between losing millions of lives or just having a wild fireworks show in the upper atmosphere,” the NASA Administrator explained to the vice president.

  “I see,” Vice President Faulkner nodded knowingly.

  Stetson simply stood calmly over the mission control console doing his best to pay attention to his job with one hundred and ten percent attention and at the same time make note of how the politicians reacted as they watched over the room. Stetson, in other words, was doing his best not to be distracted. The NASA administrator should have known better than to bring the “guests” into the control room. They sure as hell didn’t need to stand right behind him jabbering the entire time. Bill did his best to put the chatter out of his mind and focus on the task at hand.

  “Downey?” Bill opened a channel to the chief engineer of the nuclear thermal rocket system that had been intended for Mars originally. “Status of our ride?”

  “Uh, the same as it was ten minutes ago. All systems are nominal and the reactor is inactive, safed, and will stay that way until long after the docking procedure,” Paula Downey replied. Bill looked across the room of the mission control center and found her head looking over the sea of consoles back at him. He simply nodded as he made eye contact. He scanned the room continuously making note of who was on console and who was missing. He’d have talks with anyone who didn’t tag-team out and put a highly trained butt in their seat before taking a coffee break or a bathroom run.

  “Paul, is the habitat fully rigidized yet?” Stetson turned to his right to find Gesling sitting at his console monitoring the health and status of the Space Excursions Mars Habitat Module as it was being deployed. He thought about the name for a second and realized they were going to have to drop Mars from the title.

  “Negative, Bill. The inflation pressure is still at one point zero one atmospheres and the thermal sensors imbedded in the epoxy layer are still at exothermic temperature. She’s gonna need one more lap,” Gesling replied.

  Bill completely understood that the Mars Habitat Module had been inflated to full size once it made it to low Earth orbit. After it had been inflated multiple layers of epoxy resins and hardeners were released over and within the skin. As the Habitat Module was exposed to direct sunlight as it maintained a Sun-synchronous orbit, the ultraviolet energy from the Sun cured and hardened the epoxy. The hardening process was an exothermic reaction that could be monitored with on-board thermal sensors. As soon as the epoxy was completely cured the exothermic reaction would end and the surface of the habitat would heat and cool based on solar exposure and radiative cooling. The long cylindrical module rotated like a pig on a barbecue rotisserie so that all of the surface would get equal solar exposure. Once the exothermic reaction stopped the surface temperature distribution would fluctuate with the rotisserie. For now, the temperature seemed pretty much constant.

  Bill looked at his watch, an old astronaut habit, then back at the main screen showing the habitat’s orbit. The nuclear thermal rocket stage was chasing it a few thousand miles behind, but was gaining. Autonomous rendezvo
us and docking of the two should happen on schedule provided that the habitat surface cured on time. It was up to Bill to make the call if the docking maneuvers had to be delayed or not based on the status of the habitat.

  “Orbital?” Bill called to the orbit and trajectory expert console. A young girl that Bill thought couldn’t be more than twenty-three looked over her shoulder back at him from her console. He knew she was sharp as they come, but, call it ageism or not, Bill would have felt more comfortable with someone a little more, well, seasoned sitting in the seat.

  “Yes sir? Orbital here.”

  “We assume we are on schedule until Habitat tells us otherwise, but I want you to have several burn solutions for one, two, and three orbit delays loaded in and on standby.” Bill thought about his statement for a minute. He knew that they had orbits calculated for all sorts of delays and contingency needs, but he also thought about the politicians behind them. This was his chance to show how hard working in space was with visibility all the way up to the White House. Bill had long grown tired of the forever shrinking budget the American space program had and he knew, or at least hoped, that every little bit of public relations couldn’t hurt.

  “Uh, yes sir. Ready to go on those if we need to,” the girl at the Orbits console replied. Bill realized he had no idea what the young woman’s name was. He made a mental note to find out as soon as the docking procedures were complete and they had a bit of a break before the nuclear thermal rocket engines were brought online.

  “Good.” There was really nothing for him to do but wait until the Habitat hardened. Bill turned to the administrator and the vice president behind him. He did his best to muster up a good old-fashioned astronaut hero smile. It was more of a forced grin, but it would have to do.

  “Ma’am, not much is going to happen for about an hour to ninety minutes, it seems. If y’all want to go get some lunch I’ll have somebody chase you down so you don’t miss the rendezvous,” Bill said through his fake smile while motioning toward the big screen showing the two spacecraft playing chase around the Earth.

  “Thanks, Bill,” the Administrator nodded. “Do that. In the meantime I’ll introduce the vice president to the rest of the team and perhaps lunch is a good idea.”

  “Affirmative. Madam Vice President.” Bill shook her hand as the politician smiled at him. “Hopefully, we’ll have more excitement for you in a bit.”

  “Space is big. It takes time. I understand.” The vice president continued to smile as she nodded knowingly. Bill decided that he liked the lady. As far as politicians were concerned, she seemed more aware of reality than most he had met. Or at least she was good at appearing that way.

  * * *

  The epoxy hardened as the manufacturers said it would and, after several orbits being exposed to the direct sunlight, the once floppy inflated balloonlike structure was now a hardened carbon composite space-age vehicle. The habitat walls rigidized into a material that could withstand the buckling forces that would be generated by the huge thrusts of the nuclear thermal rockets once they were kicked on. The habitat would also have to withstand impulses from hard docking impacts, and if it were to go on to Mars someday, would have to hold up to the aerobraking reentry maneuvers in the upper Martian atmosphere. But for now it just needed to handle docking, the trip out to the asteroid, and the trip back all the while maintaining an atmosphere and livable conditions for the astronaut crew.

  Paul couldn’t wait to climb on board the habitat and test it out for the first time, but that would be a few weeks out. Putting first things first required that the autonomous docking procedure be completed successfully and then the engines being brought online and tested. The rendezvous so far looked flawless but they were still a few minutes from actual impact.

  “Paul, I’m picking up some periodic modal vibrations on the structure, are you seeing that?” The engineer covering the structures and telemetry console noted. Paul chuckled to himself lightly. He’d rather the engineer overreact rather than not react at all.

  “Roger that, structures. We saw this in the sims. Even though the structure has been rigidized it is still somewhat flexible and each time we hit the thrusters it’s like squeezing an air bag. Nothing to worry about, she’s just breathing.”

  “Makes sense. The structure seems to ring following each position correction. They are all within tolerance,” the structures engineer replied.

  “Bill, everything is looking good. We are ready to hand over the docking process to the autonav,” Paul said.

  “Roger that, Habitat,” Stetson replied. “You heard the man, Nav. Go for autonav.”

  “Affirmative, Capcom. Nav is go for autonomous docking procedure engage,” the navigation console engineer replied.

  “Nothing to do now but to sit back and watch the computer do its thing.” Paul leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He took in a slow quiet breath and hoped and prayed to the computer navigation gods that all would work out as the engineers had planned.

  “Autonav is engaged. Thrusters are firing.”

  “Hab, go to audible countdown to dock,” Stetson ordered Paul.

  “Roger that, Capcom,” Paul leaned back to his console. “Contact in T minus twenty-six seconds.”

  “Lidar, radar, and video alignment are dead on,” the Navigation Engineer added.

  “Seventeen seconds, sixteen, fifteen…”

  “Universal docking system shows green across the board.”

  “Docking contact in five, four, three, two, one, contact!” Paul said urgently. He quickly checked all the data flowing through his console screens to make certain nothing unexpected happened. The habitat was ringing like a bell but there were no signs of structural integrity failures.

  “Capcom, Nav shows docking ring locked!”

  “Hab?”

  “Capcom, Habitat shows docking ring locked, fully engaged, and all systems are in the green.” Paul sighed relief and let out a brief cheer. “Sutter’s Mill, here we come.” The Tamaroa was now intact. All that was left was to test her engines and get a crew on board her.

  CHAPTER 17

  Gesling looked around in the cramped capsule and once again lamented the damage done to the Dreamscape. With the reusable space plane out of commission, the mission planners decided to take the Chinese up on their offer to provide the international team going to Sutter’s Mill with a free ride to space. The capsule was small and extremely uncomfortable. The chairs were crammed together so close that Gesling could feel Melanie’s breathing to his left and Mikhail’s obnoxiousness to his right. The thought made him chuckle, which was a relief under the circumstances.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Melanie, who had evidently noticed Gesling’s guffaw.

  “Oh, nothing, really. I was just wishing we were in the Dreamscape where we’d have a lot more room for the flight.”

  “You’re not in your comfy little private space plane, Commander Gesling. Get used to it.”

  Gesling was taken aback at the harsh tone of her rebuke. This wasn’t the first time Melanie had been short with him, but it was the first time she’d done so in public. And this was very public. They were on the launch pad in the Shenzhou-X capsule that the Chinese regularly used to send taikonauts to their base on the Moon. Liftoff was planned to be in less than thirty minutes and the world’s eyes were upon everything happening at the Chinese launch site.

  “Oh, I realize that, Dr. Ledford. And I won’t forget it,” was Paul’s acerbic reply. Paul was only now starting to realize that Mikhail probably wasn’t the only other member of the crew who resented him being named mission commander. It must have been a significant blow for Melanie to not be named commander of the asteroid redirect mission when it supplanted Mars—she was to have commanded that mission after all. Paul looked around the cabin and realized that he was the commander of a team of commanders: Hui was in charge of the Chinese Moon mission a few years ago, Mikhail led the first crew in the Russian lunar base, and Melanie was to have
been commander of the Mars mission. Oh boy, why didn’t I realize that before?

  The crew was soon to launch into Earth orbit and dock with the rest of the Tamaroa—the ship that would take them to Sutter’s Mill. The nuclear propulsion system stages and the Deep Space Habitat were launched successfully over the last ten days and all that was missing was themselves—the people who would fly to the rogue asteroid and divert it from a collision course with Earth.

  Gesling was again running through the pre-launch checklist on the touchpad before him when he began to hear more than normal chatter on the radio. Unfortunately, it was almost all in Chinese. From the tone, even Gesling could tell that something unexpected was happening.

  “Hui, what’s going on?” Gesling asked.

  “I was just tuning in. They’re saying that something has appeared on the radar flying inbound from the East and it’s only five miles away. They’re diverting one of the fighters to intercept it.”

  Gesling knew that in China, just as in the USA, the airspace near a rocket launch was closed. And to make sure it remained closed, especially on a launch involving people, there were always a few fighter jets on patrol. He didn’t like the fact that whatever was coming toward them was so close already. Surely their radars could, and should, have picked it up from much further out.

  More Chinese chatter came through the radio, sounding even more excited than before.

  “They’re saying there is another one, coming from the South.”

  “Do we evacuate?” asked Reudiger.

  “Evacuate just because we’re sitting on a few tons of liquid hydrogen and oxygen waiting to be lit? Why ever would you think we’d need to do that?” replied Mikhail, trying to not sound too nervous himself.

  “No, we sit tight until ground control tells us we need to do something,” Gesling replied.

  “Paul, this is Bill.” Stetson’s voice came over the comm channel from mission control to Gesling’s headset. It was the command channel and only he could hear what was being said.