Flight of the Condor
Richard P. Henrick
America's most advanced defensive surveillance satellite is hurtling towards Earth, leaving the United States susceptible to a surprise attack from the Soviet Union. As the Russians prepare to deliver a lethal nuclear blow, the fate of humanity will be fought on two battlefields — beneath the ocean and in outer space.
Richard P. Henrick
Flight of the Condor
Dedication
This story is dedicated to the U.S.S. Blueback (SS-581), the last and best diesel attack submarine in the U.S. Navy.
Diesel boats forever!
Epigraph
“Once you have tasted inner space, you will walk the earth thinking of the ocean’s depths. For there you have been, and there you long to return.”
— Lou Eyerly
Chapter One
For the third consecutive morning, Andrew Weston’s dreams woke him from a sound sleep. Each time, the vision was the same. He found himself in a lush, pine-covered valley. A single, thin trail cut through the rolling hills. With not another human in sight, he walked down the path with a brisk pace, drawn by an unknown goal. It was just as he passed over a tumbling mountain brook that a booming peal of deep thunder resonated from above. Directing his attention skyward, he searched the crystal-blue heavens for any sign of an advancing storm. When he saw no known source for the thunder, a heavy, ponderous feeling possessed his limbs and, for a second, he swayed back dizzily. It was then that his eyes sharpened their focus, picking out a single, massive creature circling high overhead. It was larger than any bird he had ever viewed before, and he knew in an instant that it was a condor.
Soaring effortlessly on the thermals, the powerfully built bird sported a lean body and a glossy, black feathered wingspan well over eleven feet in length. As in each of the preceding dreams, Andrew continued looking upward, completely mesmerized by the creature’s huge size, as the condor swooped down and passed only a few hundred feet overhead. A loud swish of air accompanied this movement, and Andrew got an excellent view of the bird’s long, hooked beak, which grew almost straight out from its flat forehead. Curiously, its head was completely bald, yet the top of the scalp was a bright yellow. The rest of the condor’s body was covered by black feathers, except for a strip of white ones situated under the front of each wing.
With a smooth, graceful motion, the bird rolled upward and initiated another low pass. Once more, Andrew looked on with awe. Unbelievable as it may have seemed, he could have sworn that the condor met his inquisitive glance directly. Then, for the briefest of seconds, the two creatures traded a rare moment of silent inter-species contact. Appearing wise beyond its years, the shaggy-feathered bird, which represented the last of its species in the wild, transferred a mental picture telling of its lonely struggle to survive at all costs.
As in the two previous mornings’ dreams, it was at this point that Andrew awoke. Still curiously affected by the bird’s sad plight, he reluctantly merged back into waking consciousness. With the vision still fresh in his mind, he vainly attempted to identify the lush valley he had been crossing before spotting the condor.
Unable to place it, he stirred uneasily, his concentration broken by a rustle in the sheets beside him.
A familiar, sweet scent met his nostrils, and Andrew quickly reorientated himself. Reaching out affectionately, he grasped the warm, soft body of the woman he had been living with these past two weeks. In a matter of seconds, thoughts of his dream were soon far from his mind, to be replaced by physical longings of a most primal nature.
Wendy had been sound asleep and Andrew’s gentle hands nudged her abruptly awake. Without a second’s hesitance, she allowed her lover’s sensual touch to rouse her completely. A minimum of foreplay sent their hearts pounding, and all too soon the two were merged as one. An intense, passionate coupling followed.
Though they had known each other for just a few short weeks, Andrew and Wendy were most compatible.
Each knew precisely what the other needed to insure complete satisfaction. This morning proved to be no exception.
Mounted side by side, Andrew started slowly and soon had his lover sighing in utter ecstasy. As his own need rose, his pace likewise increased, until both parties were shuddering in shared pleasure. Temporarily spent and exhausted, they parted. With hands still linked and shoulders touching, each savored the tingling warmth that coursed through their bodies.
This delight was amplified, as both realized that they would not have to immediately part and run off to work, as had been the case too often in the past. For this morning signaled the beginning of a joint three day leave. Andrew would never forget how difficult it had been for them to manage this mini-vacation together.
As a ten-year veteran, senior technician with NASA, he certainly had these days coming to him.
He couldn’t begin to count the hours of earned leave time due him. Yet his current assignment at the Kokee tracking station on Kauai, Hawaii’s northernmost island, was a unique one to say the least.
Perpetually overworked and understaffed, the Kokee facility managed its operations with a minimum of trained personnel. Because of this, Andrew had to practically beg a coworker to assume his shift times.
This would cost him dearly in the weeks to come, in the form of taking double shifts himself, yet Wendy had so anticipated this time together and he didn’t dare disappoint her. As a Navy ensign stationed at Kauai’s Barking Sands missile test-range facility, Wendy had to pull in a few favors herself to get her own pass.
Since meeting at a base cocktail party less than thirty days before, their relationship had progressed most rapidly. Attracted to each other from the very start, they were lovers in a matter of days.
Two weeks before, their relationship had taken on an additional degree of permanence when he had agreed to move into Wendy’s one-bedroom apartment in Waimea. As it turned out, this had been a decision Andrew had yet to regret.
Not only was his present habitation more comfortable than the cramped trailer he had been sharing with two other NASA technicians, his entire outlook on life had been broadened. An avowed bachelor, he had sworn to keep his life free from the complications a woman would necessitate. Yet, in Wendy’s case, it was certainly worth the trouble.
For the first time in months, he began taking an interest in something other than his work. Although he had been stationed on Kauai for over six months, he had seen little of the magnificent sights the island was famous for. Since Wendy’s duties at Barking Sands had kept her equally as busy, both had agreed that they would spend these three days together, exploring the island’s natural beauty.
Only when Wendy rose to shower and then prepare breakfast did Andrew reach over to the end table to pick up a road map of Kauai. With anxious eyes, he began charting the course of their wanderings.
Spouting Horn would be their first stop. Located on the southern edge of the island, this beach side attraction derived its name from a lava tube that directed the Pacific waters into the air in a high, surging column. Then it would be on to nearby Koloa, a quaint shopping area that had — once held the headquarters of Kauai’s first sugar plantation. Continuing to the east, on the Kuhio highway, they would make their way to Wailua Beach. There they planned to cruise the Wailua River inland to view the magical Fern Grotto. Proceeding to the northern shore of the island, they would tour the Kilauea Lighthouse, picnic on the white sands of Anini Beach, then go on to explore Princeville and historical Hanalei. If time permitted, they even considered jumping on an inter island flight for a quick ride to Oahu, Maui, or the big island of Hawaii itself.
The smell of perking coffee and sizzling bacon redirected his attention from the map. For the
first time in much too long, he found himself really anticipating the day’s events. Jumping from the covers, he made his way to the bathroom. No sooner had he brushed his teeth and begun shaving than the shrill ring of the telephone sounded. His gut tightened when the ringing stopped to be replaced with Wendy’s high-pitched voice.
“Andy, it’s Dr. Lindsay!”
With his face still half-covered with shaving cream, Andrew put down his razor and silently cursed to himself. Fighting the impulse to ignore the call altogether, he sighed and hastily caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. A disgusted, pained expression twisted his face as he turned to pick up the bedroom receiver. The mere tone of the caller’s deep voice verified Andrew’s worse fears.
“Andy, sorry to do this to you, lad, but we need you up here pronto. Keyhole Alpha is falling from orbit much quicker than we had anticipated. It’s doubtful that she’ll be able to give us another pass over the USSR. To replace her, Colorado Springs wants us to activate Baker. Since she’s been your baby from the beginning, I thought you’d like to do the honors.”
Although a major part of his being rebelled at the very thought of returning to the tracking station, Andrew’s conscience got the best of him.
“I’m on my way. Doc,” said Andrew sighing heavily.
“Very good, lad,” returned the director of the Kokee station.
“We’ll hold the fort for your arrival.
Drive carefully.”
As he hung up the receiver, Andrew noticed a dejected-looking figure standing at his side. Her deep blue eyes expressed her frustration. Overtaken by an emotion he was just beginning to understand, he reached out and pulled his love close to him. Only then did he realize that half his face was still covered with shaving cream.
Five minutes later, he was fully dressed and on his way up Waimea Canyon Drive. Though the tracking station was less than twenty miles away, the curving road was steep, narrow, and, as he was soon to learn, at this hour, filled with tourists on their way to Kokee State Park. Settling his jeep behind a long line of slow-moving rental cars, Andrew cursed at his misfortune.
Struggling to contain his rising anger, he pounded the wheel, hardly aware of the spectacular scenery passing on each side of him.
Fortunately, Wendy had taken his abrupt call to duty all in stride. Though she had been disappointed that their plans would have to be temporarily put on hold, she was most aware of the fickle nature of their governmental positions. Having entered the Navy over two years before, she had known that the call could have very well been for her. Not even bothering to question the nature of the crisis that was ruining their plans, she had dutifully filled a thermos with coffee and packed Andrew a bacon-and-egg sandwich.
Parting with a kiss and a hug, Andrew had promised to call her as soon as he had a better idea of the length of his present assignment. If all went smoothly, he knew that the reunion could take place as soon as that afternoon. Since things in his field rarely went as planned, though, he couldn’t say for sure. Resigned to this fact, he now directed his attention to the road before him. A total of seven cars lay between him and the slow-moving, diesel-belching tourist bus that was delaying their progress. Since there would not be a safe passing lane for another three miles, Andrew did his best to remain patient.
After determining a prudent following distance, he allowed his thoughts to drift to the nature of his present work.
For over a decade, his duty with NASA had included a variety of assignments. These included work on the Explorer project, the space-shuttle program, and, most recently, a stint with the Air Force’s satellite control facility at Sunnyvale, California. In fact, it was in Sunnyvale that he had absorbed the knowledge that he was presently being called in to apply — the exact positioning of satellites consigned to a polar orbit.
Of course, there could be no denying the extreme importance of the project he was currently involved with. That was why, when Dr. Lindsay’s call had arrived earlier, Andrew hadn’t dared to turn him down. The security of the very nation could well be at stake.
The Keyhole satellites were the most effective reconnaisance platforms that the United States ever had. Through the use of ultra-sophisticated optical techniques, such satellites obtained highly detailed pictures of portions of the earth from which America’s security could be threatened. With the aid of high-resolution, multi-spectral cameras, objects as small as twelve inches across could be photographed from altitudes of several hundred miles. By using infrared radar scanners, these cameras could even penetrate cloud cover. Needless to say, such platforms served as an invaluable instrument in determining a possible aggressor’s intentions.
Because the nature of their assignments required a relatively low orbit, the Keyholes’ lifetimes were limited.
Earlier models had had an operational limit of less than four months, while the latest versions could remain aloft for over a year. Thus it was in the country’s best interest to have several such platforms in orbit at all times, with replacements ready to launch whenever necessary.
Much to the Air Force’s dismay, the U.S. would soon be in the precarious position of having only a single operational Keyhole platform in orbit. The reasons for this dangerous development were varied.
With the loss of the space shuttle Challenger, and the subsequent delay of the entire shuttle program, the country had been temporarily deprived of its primary satellite-booster vehicle. The only available rocket powerful enough to carry such payloads as the Keyhole was the unmanned Titan 34-D. Less than three months after Challenger went down, a Titan carrying a Keyhole replacement had exploded over the coastline of central California, seconds after being launched from Vandenberg Air Force Base. This failure had left the U.S. with only a pair of Keyholes in orbit, and no foreseeable way in the near future of replacing them. Now, as the oldest of these two satellites fell from the heavens, at the limit of its operational lifetime, only a single platform remained aloft. This allimportant surviving vehicle would have to remain on line until a reliable method of replacement could be achieved.
Andrew Weston’s duty was to help the Air Force reposition, then activate this surviving platform, which was known simply as Baker. Nine months before, he had supervised its initial placement from the control room at Sunnyvale. Today, he would be responsible for bringing it back to life once again.
Most aware of the utter importance of his mission, Andrew sighed in relief when the long-anticipated passing lane became visible up ahead. Not waiting for the cars that preceded him to make their move, he pushed down on his horn, floored the accelerator, and veered the jeep to the left. Oblivious to the angry hand and facial gestures of those that he now passed, Andrew zipped by the bus and soon had the road all to himself.
As Waimea Canyon Road merged into Kokee Road, the landscape became noticeably different from that down below. Absent were the vast, flat fields of sugar cane and taro. In their places were steep, rounded hillsides, most of which were covered with thick stands of twisted oaks. From this new elevation, over two thousand feet above sea level, Andrew could view the broad canyon stretching out to his right. Developed after thousands of years of erosion, the colorful volcanic valley was known as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, and rightly so. He would never forget the first time that he had viewed this landscape six months before.
Expecting to find Kauai completely filled with white beaches and coconut-laden palm trees, he had been shocked to find the Kokee tracking station situated on a pine-covered summit, twenty-five hundred feet above sea level, overlooking breathtaking Waimea Canyon. For the first couple of weeks, the fall weather had been gorgeous, with warm days and comfortable, crystal-clear nights. Andrew had quickly immersed himself in his work, as they all prepared to monitor a full schedule of seven space shuttle flights from Vandenberg the very next year.
Yet all too soon both the rainy season and the Challenger disaster had quickly dampened their lofty plans. With the shuttle program on an indefinite hold, until the cause of
the explosion was determined and subsequently corrected, the crew had done its best to fill in the empty hours. Andrew was soon to learn that the world’s wettest spot, Mt. Waialeale, lay only a few dozen miles to the east. As might be expected with such a neighbor, the station had been deluged by weeks of constantly pouring rain. A boring routine had then followed, as the NASA tracking team strove to keep busy by assisting the military whenever possible.
It was immediately after the monitoring of a submarine-based launch that the crew had been invited to attend a reception at the Navy’s Barking Sands facility, on Kauai’s southwestern shore. Happy to escape the confines of his cramped trailer, Andrew had found Barking Sands a most congenial site. Not only had the sun been shining brightly on the afternoon that he arrived there, but it had also been the fateful day that he was to meet Wendy. Things would never be the same afterwards.
From her lips had come the stories of the island’s natural history. This had included tales of the mysterious menehune, the so-called “little people,” who had supposedly made Kauai their home, decades before the first Polynesians arrived. In fact, it was while on a subsequent visit to the Kokee tracking station that Wendy had told him of the tales of the menehune ghost-marchers, who wandered the hills of Kokee to this very day. Though he had taken such yarns lightly, his feelings towards Wendy had become more serious as each day passed. Now that he had moved in with her, he was even considering marriage.
For a confirmed bachelor, this could prove to be a dangerous turn of events.
As he passed the twenty-five-hundred-foot marker, Andrew contemplated the events of the past few months and found his mood lightening. He would do his duty for his country, get Baker operational, and then return to his love to ask her to share the rest of her life with him. His lips curved in a satisfied smile, but suddenly the sky above darkened and soon he was in the midst of a blinding downpour. After switching on both his windshield wipers and lights, then decreasing his speed, Andrew did his best to stay on the winding roadway. Twice, his tires slid onto the muddy shoulder. Twice, he managed to return to the pavement.
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