Eaves and Carter were impressed by O’Casey’s knowledge. “Of course every solution creates new problems. First, was speed. The acceleration rate of a shuttlecraft is just a little faster than a hot-air balloon. Actually, the rate is variable, with quite a bit of lift when close to the ground, where the atmosphere is of a higher density and the minerals in the ground are closer. But, as the shuttle climbs ever higher in the atmosphere, its speed slackens until it ultimately comes to a standstill. Then the space ship makes an approach to give the shuttle something to pull against. While a high-speed, rocket-borne shuttle can reach orbit in less than thirty minutes, it takes a membrane shuttle some twelve to fifteen hours, depending on the weather. It’s inexpensive, but slow.
“Which is why,” said Eaves, the light going on in his brain, “most planets maintain a variety of shuttles – propellant shuttles for emergencies and rapid transport for VIP’s and strictly membrane shuttles for routine re-supply missions and crew transfers. And the combo shuttles that use both membrane and propellants!
“That’s right. The combination craft are much smaller than a membrane ship, about the size of a large, ocean-going yacht and their shape is more along traditional aircraft lines. The combo shuttles can make the trip in approximately four or five hours, with the propellants starting the journey, then going idle while they drift up, and finally kicking in again as they reach the upper atmosphere.”
“Another problem early shuttle designers had to work through was how to store a shuttle to use on distant planets that didn’t have their own fleet. Making them collapsible, like a giant accordion, solved this problem. The Allegro’s shuttle reduces by ninety percent when fully collapsed. After the shuttle docks with the ship and unloads its cargo and/or passengers, winches collapse the panels into a compact cube that is drawn into a specially designed storage bay by large hydraulic arms.”
“I guess I just always took all that for granted,” said Carter. “But it’s really pretty great engineering.”
O’Casey was pleased with that, and continued the briefing, pointing out that “piloting a shuttle is very much like trying to control a soap bubble – a silent breeze can send it flying in an unexpected direction.”
When Eaves furrowed his brow, Casey tried a more direct approach. “The shuttle’s tremendous surface area acts like a sail that makes it vulnerable to changes in air currents or turbulence created by other aircraft. Generally, these disruptions offset each other, so you can continue on your original course, with just a few occasional adjustments. But every so often, an unexpected wind shear will catch a corner of the ship, causing it to roll. If you encounter such a condition in a fighter, how do you respond?”
“You immediately oppose the shear, powering through the disturbance.”
“Right. In a shuttle, however, that maneuver would almost certainly cause you to lose control. Here’s why.” O’Casey moved to a three-dimensional whiteboard where he drew the boxy image of a shuttlecraft. “Suppose the wind catches the forward starboard corner, let’s call it northeast. The aircraft lifts and begins to roll to port. Your natural inclination is to oppose the roll, so you execute a turn to starboard.”
Carter and Eaves nodded in agreement.
O’Casey then animated the diagram. As expected, the northeast quarter settled nicely. But then the aft port, or southwest corner, rose at an alarming rate.
“If you were in a fighter, what would you do now?”
Eaves responded, “Execute a turn to port, but ...”
“Hold your comments for a moment and let’s see what happens.” O’Casey touched the diagram in such a way that the shuttle began a port turn. This lifted the northeast corner, as expected, which should have compensated for the rise on the southwest corner aft. But, the ship continued to rise at both corners, while sagging mid-ship. Carter and Eaves watched in amazement as the ship succumbed to the stress of lifting in opposing corners. In less than two minutes it buckled in the center, breaching the lower deck. The contents spilled out and the sickening sound of tearing metal confirmed its ultimate fate.
“As you can see, gentlemen, as the two corners continued to rise, the ship tore itself in half. The resulting loss of electrical power to the anti-gravity-membranes caused the entire structure to crash. Even if the occupants managed to bail out, the ship would likely crush them on its fall to the ground.”
“How did it happen?” Carter asked.
Before O’Casey could respond, Eaves said, “The wind shear is like a wave. When it hit the northeast corner it started the lift, but then continued to pass under the structure lifting each section in turn. By the time we had turned to starboard, depressing that quarter, the wave was lifting the southwest corner, which aggravated, rather than relieved, the original condition. By trying to counteract that turn, we created a fatal stress in the center.”
“Very good, Mr. Eaves. Why is that a problem unique to shuttles?”
“Actually, Sir, it’s similar to what was experienced on large aircraft carriers on ancient earth. They were so long that when the ship encountered a long wave on the bow it would lift the ship in sections as it passed from bow to stern. That made it a real challenge for an aircraft attempting a landing in heavy seas to anticipate the rise and fall of each section.”
O’Casey nodded appreciatively.
“So, how do we compensate for it?” Carter asked. “We have to do something.”
“Actually, most of the time doing nothing is the best answer,” O’Casey replied. “Think of a leaf falling from a tree. As it falls to earth, it flutters back and forth in the wind, ultimately self-correcting for all the currents that hit it.”
“I can see that, but we’re not drifting down. Instead we’re powering our way up through the atmosphere, trying to reach a pre-determined spot.”
“While you do use power, that’s not the best way to think about it. The anti-gravity-membrane is really causing you to float up – like a leaf going in reverse.”
Eaves interrupted. “But what if it’s a sustained wind, rather than a shear? At some point you have to react or it will tip the ship over.” O’Casey was annoyed by the interruption.
“You’re correct, Mr. Eaves. The solution is counter-intuitive to most people. What you need to do is create your own roll, so you can then cut through the wave. “
He walked to the diagram again and tapped on the northeast corner. “The wave hits you here, on your right side. Instruments tell you it’s a sustained wind, not a shear. The way you respond will determine whether or not the ship survives the next maneuver. First, you have to turn to Port, generally for thirty seconds. This will overemphasize the roll and cause the southwest corner to fall, relative to the rest of the ship. Then, you’ll apply full power to a starboard turn, dropping the front as fast as possible. What do you expect will happen next, Mr. Carter?”
Carter tried to picture it in his mind, then spoke carefully. “First, we’ll be rolling with the wind, northeast quarter rising. Then we resist, so the northeast quarter will settle. When the wind catches it from the top, it will dip sharply and come to equilibrium.”
“Good so far, what are the risks?”
“If you let the northeast corner rise too far before the starboard turn, the correction will warp the ship in the center. As the northeast corner settles, the wind will hit it from the top while the southwest corner is still supported from underneath by the wind. It seems to me that it will snap the ship in two, again.”
“Not if you simultaneously apply full bottom thrust to the aft-port quarter,” Eaves said instinctively. “That way the wind will support it in the maneuver, so the stress isn’t too great. In essence we slice right through the wind as we bring the ship head-on into the wave. From that point we’ll be going perpendicular to our original course, but can match the speed of the wind and continue rising until we get above it.” He looked up and added, “I’m sorry, Sir, I keep interrupting without permission.”
“It’s okay, Lieutenant, you analyze
d the situation perfectly.” This time O’Casey gave a slight smile.
Carter looked like his head hurt. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t get it.”
“Care to diagram it, Lieutenant Eaves?”
Eaves stepped forward and took the pointer. For the next two hours the three of them practiced various maneuvers on the board until the mathematics of the task came into focus.
Concluding the session, O’Casey said, “You’ve had a good start. A remarkably good start. Tomorrow’s lesson will take place in the simulator, where you can feel the effect of all this first hand.
Rising early, Carter and Eaves made their way to the simulator with high expectations. But, their first attempt was a dismal failure. “It’s like dancing in a slow motion ballet,” Carter said at one point, frustrated.
“It’s so darn big,” Eaves responded. “Most of the time there’s nothing to do but let it rise or settle. But then a problem hits and it takes all your concentration to avoid wrecking it.”
One of the problems that proved hardest to deal with was the variable rate of speed depending on the material being attracted or repelled, as well as a particular planet’s gravitational field. Trying to match all the competing forces in such a way that they didn’t tear the flimsy shuttle apart was remarkably challenging. By the third day O’Casey had simplified the simulations to match only those that the team would encounter at Kalenden. Even these proved just as frustrating as O’Casey had predicted. Still, the Lieutenants showed up on time, every day and practiced every drill until it began to become second nature. The shuttle support crew actually cheered when they completed their first successful bad-weather landing.
As the final withdrawal date approached, Jesik dropped in unexpectedly “How are they doing, Mr. O’Casey?”
“Better than expected, Captain. Which means that if the weather is half-way decent, they probably won’t humiliate us?”
“And if the weather’s bad?”
“I hope our insurance premiums are current.”
Jesik laughed. “Should they withdraw from the competition?”
“That’s up to you and the Lieutenants, Sir. But, if they stay at it, I think they’ll do alright. I’d certainly bet they’ll do better than the other two fighter crews.”
Eaves and Carter walked up as O’Casey said that and grinned.
“Hey, you two, beating the other fighter pilots doesn’t begin to put you in league with some of the experienced crews. So that was a modest compliment, at best.”
“Thanks for the clarification, Mr. O’Casey.”
Jesik returned the Lieutenants’ salute.
“I was just asking if you two ought to exercise your option to withdraw.”
Jesik expected a flippant answer, but was surprised when Eaves responded seriously.
“I don’t think so, Sir. But, I admit this is much more difficult than I imagined. I’ve probably sat on a shuttle a hundred times as a passenger and, if I ever thought of the crew at all, it was to wonder why anyone would enter such a boring service. Shows how ignorant I was.” O’Casey raised an appreciative eyebrow at that.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine in the competition,” said Jesik, “but I’m worried about what it’s doing to your skills as a fighter pilot. I don’t want this to interfere with your combat skills.”
“We’ve kept that in mind during our trials and so far, I think I’m doing okay. “
“Well, then, if Mr. O’Casey clears you, you have my permission to confirm your entry. But, I’d like a private word with you, Mr. Eaves, before I leave.” Jesik walked around the shuttle bay for a few moments chatting with the maintenance crew, then drew Eaves to the side. Eaves nodded, apparently in agreement with whatever the Captain said and saluted him.
“By the way, Mr. O’Casey,” Jesik called out. “We’ve been making better time than expected through the asteroid field. I think we’ll give the men a three-day shore leave on Stirium on our way home. I want to check the political situation there, to see how the Keswick action affects other out-planets. Perhaps Lieutenant Eaves and Carter can help you with shuttle service there?”
“I believe they can, Captain. The Stirium gravitational field and planet composition is very similar to Kalenden. But, I’m sure you already thought of that, Sir.” Cheerful demeanor aside, under his breath O’Casey muttered, “I hope our shuttle survives the ordeal of a first time pilot. It’s only the most expensive shuttle in the fleet.”
09—Keswick Growing Pains
“Well, that didn’t go so well, did it Commander?”
Magill shook his head. “I have the strongest desire to tell these people to just stuff it. Both sides are so stubborn!”
“But of course we can’t. We need the orchidite. And if we try to just take it we have the Alturians to deal with.”
Magill was thoughtful. “From my reading of history energy has been one of the major causes of wars since the beginning of human society 8,000 years before the common era on Earth. When people were the main source of energy nations raided their neighbors and took slaves. If one country found coal deposits, everyone else wanted them. In the days of sailing ships, when whale oil sold at a premium, nations threatened war in competition for killing whales. And when fossil fuels became the main source of energy the whole planet was in constant turmoil for more than 200 years. That was the darkest time of all. When the great oil fields in the Middle East started to run out the nuclear wars broke out, threatening the very survival of the species. Then orchidite was discovered on Saturn and interplanetary travel became possible. And now here we are, almost a millennium removed and still quibbling over fuel. It seems like the answer is to find a reliable source of energy that is everywhere—like water, or air, or sunlight! But none of those “renewable” have the energy needed for space travel, so we have to make nice with those who have orchidite.”
Wilkerson smiled. “That’s why I need you, Commander. It’s all a lot simpler for me—we need it, we should take it. If we’re stronger, we ought to have it.”
Sean laughed. “Sometimes I’d like to come to your point-of-view, I really would.” He paused and reflected on his life on Keswick. It was a mixed bag, so far. Since no one here had ever known him as anything but crippled his legs were no longer a liability. In fact in some ways it actually helped his cause since his pain was so obvious to everyone he dealt with, which caused them to recognize the sacrifice he was making to take part in their discussions. But on the downside his inexperience had caused some very embarrassing gaffes that gave an advantage to the far more experienced ministers from Alturus. They were constantly scheming to gain an advantage with the governing coalition and he knew they would strive to renegotiate their orchidite contracts at rates more favorable than those awarded to Kalendan. More than anything he wished he and Wilkerson had the help of some experienced commodities traders. As naïve and inexperienced as Magill was, Wilkerson was absolutely out his depth. But he was a fast learner and on the positive side, Prime Minister Lansing seemed to identify very strongly with Major Wilkerson, distrusting the royal ministers from Alturus, so they remained well-connected at the top. As I said, a mixed bag! It was all very puzzling
“Well, we better go back in. Prime Minister Lansing has his hands full and it seems like we’re always the ones to back him up,” said Wilkerson.
Magill nodded his agreement. “From my point-of-view it’s critical that we keep him in power. If the Loyalists gain any ground it strengthens the hands of the Alturians.”
“I’m telling you – a couple of starships to blast them out of orbit…”
Magill laughed. As he made his way back into the conference room he had a momentary image of Tara Carling and his heart suddenly hurt. I can’t believe you miss her—you meant nothing to her. She’s a nurse, you were a patient. She helped you. Then she helped Travis when his arm was injured. Then she…” He forced himself to stop thinking, at least for the moment. Yet no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he somehow
wanted to believe that Tara felt something more than just professional pity for him. Probably all her patients think that way. STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!
10 – Preparing for “The Manhattan Trials”
O’Casey wanted to grab the shuttle controls away from Lieutenant Eaves on a minimum of a hundred occasions. Not that Eaves’ first attempt to land the shuttle was worse than any of the other trainees. In fact, it was better than most. But his other newcomers had first flown a training shuttlecraft into a secure environment, where Eaves’ landing was with the Allegro’s brand-new shuttle in the heart of the business district. Given the planet’s obsessive concern for secrecy, they’d been harassed by ground control each time they drifted, fearing they were spying on the planet’s guests, there to enjoy the spas and private estates.
Finally, Eaves floated the thing down to an acceptable landing, even if the last 2,000 meters had been at twice the preferred rate of descent. His launch from the planet had also gone well, but his first attempt at docking with Allegro nearly crushed the hydraulic docking arm. O’Casey had to take control before any real damage was done. Eaves was humiliated and upset, insisting he could have regained control of the shuttle in time, but the look on the Captain’s face confirmed the wisdom of O’Casey’s intervention.
Captain Jesik was patient and held the Allegro in low space orbit for an extra twelve hours while Eaves and Carter mastered the docking maneuver. Being in low orbit consumed an inordinate amount of fuel and risked creating a film on the alinite hull that made it less resistant to laser attack. Fortunately, Stirium had an unusually thin atmosphere, so the ship came through without any problems.
Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials Page 18