The Titicaca Effect

by Richard N. Tooker

  “I’m going down to the launch area to check on the installation of some metering equipment,” Stout said. “Want to come along?”

  Freeman glanced at his watch as they headed for the office door. “Sure. I have to meet Alicia. She’s coming in by chopper in a few minutes and she’s bringing Janey with her so they’ll be here for tomorrow’s launch. Until they get here, I really don’t have much to do. Imagine that!”

  “There are a couple of things you should know about, Ty,” Stout said as they walked across the tarmac toward the launch area. “I had a major flare-up with Vladimir Ivanov this morning. He disagrees with my design for the zero-G facility, and he won’t let it go. I know we’re trying to establish an international culture here, but I swear to God, the Russians are the most intractable people I’ve ever had to work with.”

  Tyler smiled. “It’s in their genes, Thad. They can’t help it.”

  “Can I fire him?”

  “You’re in charge of design. Do what you think best. Just keep in mind that he’s a senior scientist, and there will be a political backlash to deal with.”

  “Do I care about that?”

  “Not if you don’t mind making my life more complicated.” “I don’t mind,” Stout laughed.

  “That’s OK, Thad, I’ll deal with it. What’s the second thing?”

  “Well, I think maybe Manco Capac might be telling the truth. I think this is not the first time a phenomenon like this has occurred in the Andes. Or the first place, for that matter.”

  Freeman stopped walking. “You’re kidding!”

  “Nope. Last weekend, I decided to take a break, so I had a driver take me to the ruins at Tihuanaco. You know that archaeology is a hobby of mine, and that site is one of the most important in the area. You know where it is?”

  “I think so. It’s between here and La Paz, right? I’ve flown over it.”

  “Right. The civilization that built it predates the Inca by hundreds of years. There are some ceremonial buildings and a large courtyard where they must have staged religious rituals. Some of the site has been dismantled, unfortunately. If you look around the village nearby, you’ll see stones from the ruins incorporated in their dwellings. It’s a damn shame.”

  Anyway, there’s one really striking artifact there, a large free-standing monolithic stone arch that’s called the Gateway to the Sun. They’ve roped it off to protect it from vandals, thank God, but General Suarez arranged for the site curator, who also happens to be his cousin, to meet me there and let me get a close look at it.

  “I was standing next to it, trying to decipher the markings on the arch, when I noticed something peculiar about the way flying insects behaved when they got near it. They would get within a few feet of it, and then fly straight up. Really strange. Then I walked under the arch so I was completely surrounded by it, and I began to feel a little strange myself. At first I thought I was just a little light-headed from the altitude again, but that wasn’t it. I wasn’t light-headed, Ty, I was light.”

  “Light?”

  “It wasn’t more than the equivalent of a pound or two, but I could definitely feel it. There was a difference in the pull of gravity under the arch. And guess what? I looked at my watch and it was 10:15, during the time that the mineral deposit here at Titicaca resonates.

  “The Indians have always said that the Gateway to the Sun has mystical properties, and they’re right. If you look closely at the stone it was carved from, you’ll see bands of a mineral that bear a striking resemblance to the core samples I drilled here. I checked it with a compass, and there’s a definite magnetic field around it, too. Not enough to stop my watch, but enough to move a compass off north.”

  Freeman interrupted him. “Now, wait a minute, Thad. I watched your interview on MSNBC last month and I heard you say that you believe that the mineral and metal content of the Lake itself had something to do with forming the resonating mineral deposits.”

  “I did say that, and I still believe it. What you don’t realize is that Tihuanaco was on the shore of Lake Titicaca several centuries ago. The lake shrunk to its present size only very recently, in a geological time frame. Anyway, we don’t know where the stone used to carve the Gateway to the Sun was quarried. It could have been miles in any direction from where the monolith stands today.”

  “I get your point. If there are trace elements of the resonating mineral in the monolith, there’s a chance that there could be deposits elsewhere that could have created an antigravity field somewhere else in the past.”

  “More than a chance,” Stout said. “I think it’s a virtual certainty. I checked my compass all over the Tihuanaco site, and the whole place has weird magnetic properties. Compasses just don’t work there.”

  At that moment, both men heard the familiar popping sound of a helicopter. It was headed directly for the tarmac, and Freeman could see that it was one of the military choppers they had been using to ferry people back and forth between the island and La Paz.

  “Here come Alicia and Janey,” Freeman said, grinning broadly. He hadn’t them for three days, and it had seemed like an eternity. Sure enough, as soon as the chopper settled to ground, the cockpit door opened and Alicia Montoya, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweater, stepped onto the concrete expanse. She was carrying a briefcase, and as usual, looked great even though she had dressed down. She smiled and waved at Freeman as Janey jumped out of the helicopter behind her. Freeman and Stout jogged over to meet them.

  “Hello, ladies, I’m really glad you’re here,” Freeman said.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Janey said. “Hi, Dr. Stout.”

  Alicia gave him a hug, then gave a second one to Stout as Janey hugged her father. “You might not be so glad to see us when you see what I have in the briefcase,” Alicia said.

  “What?” Freeman asked.

  “A restraining order. Manco Capac and the New Empire of the Incas have sued again to stop operations at the spaceport. Now they claim it’s built on a site of religious significance to the indigenous people of the Andes.”

  “They got a restraining order?”

  “Yes. You can’t launch until this is cleared up, which means you’ll probably have to delay tomorrow’s launch, unless President Maldonado is able to do something. He’s meeting with Capac right now.”

  The four of them had been walking toward the office while they were having the conversation. A Bolivian soldier opened the office door, stuck his head out, and yelled at Freeman.

  “Mr. Freeman, the president is on the phone. He said it’s urgent and I should find you immediately.”

  “Why didn’t he call me on my cell phone?” Freeman grumbled as he broke into a trot, leaving Alicia, Stout and his daughter behind. “Tell him I’m on my way,” he yelled back.

  Less than a minute later, Freeman reached the office, out of breath. Although he worked at staying in good physical condition, it didn’t seem that he would ever get used to the altitude. He reached his desk, took a couple of deep breaths while he took a seat, the picked up the phone.

  “Mr. President?”

  “Tyler, I’m glad I found you,” Maldonado said. “You must have your cell phone turned off. I got your voicemail when I called. Did Alicia fill you in?”

  “She did, Mr. President. Is Capac with you now?”

  “No. I had him escorted out of my office after telling him there was no way he was going to get away with this attempt at extortion.”

  “Was Capac angry?”

  “He was furious. Furious and abusive. I thought the security people were going to have to handcuff him, but he gave in when he realized he was outnumbered. I came close to having him jailed.”

  “Mr. President, with all due respect, you shouldn’t be too heavy-handed with him. Since I met the man, I’ve had some of my people check into his power base. I’m not sure you want Manco Capac as an enemy of the state. He has more followers than you might think, and he’s in a position to make real trouble.”

  “Tyler, you�
��re not in the United States. Due process doesn’t have the same weight here. My people can handle Capac, and as far as that restraining order goes, I’ll have it rescinded within the hour. You should plan on launching tomorrow morning as scheduled.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m quite sure, Tyler. I can and will handle Manco Capac. You concentrate on getting us into space.”

  “Yes, Mr. President. We’ll launch tomorrow, as planned.”

  “Goodbye, Tyler.”

  “Goodbye, sir,” Freeman replied. As he hung up, Alicia came into the office, followed by Janey and Stout, who were holding hands.

  “What did he say?” Stout asked.

  “He said he had it handled, and that we should plan on launching tomorrow on schedule.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Evidently, he can get a judge to throw out the restraining order, but he might be seriously underestimating what Capac is capable of. Thad, you know I have a nose for trouble.”

  “I know that. And what’s your nose telling you?”

  Freeman frowned. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

  Chapter 21: Condor One

  The next day dawned bright and clear on the Island of the Moon. Tyler Freeman had been up for more than two hours, overseeing the final preparations for the first manned launch from Espaciopuerto De la Titicaca, when the sun rose over the mountains of the Cordillera Real in the distance. Stout was in the control center double-checking the telemetry and communications equipment that would be used during the launch with the flight director. The McDonnell-Douglas lifting body that Pancho Segurola and the four other astronauts would use to return to earth had been coupled to the thruster frame that would keep it in the center of the antigravity field during the launch, and both the frame and the lifting body were in place aboard the cargo carrier in the hanger, waiting for the cargo carrier to be moved into launch position.

  The thruster frame had been Freeman’s idea. After Stout had given McDonnell-Douglas the power requirements needed to keep the lifting body centered on the way up, the engineers had informed him that more time would be needed to retrofit the spacecraft with that much thrust. The delay would have cost them at least three months, perhaps more.

  Freeman suggested that rather than add thruster power to the lifting body itself, why not fasten it with explosive bolts to a simple steel framework onto which thruster engines could be mounted? Once the payload reached a geosynchronous orbit, the thruster frame and lifting body could be separated, leaving the steel framework and spent ascent thrusters in orbit to be used as raw material for future construction, or alternatively, nudged into a descent to burn up in the atmosphere if it wasn’t needed. The solution looked a little like a giant Tinkertoy set surrounding the spacecraft, but it was simple and inexpensive. One of the luxuries afforded by the Titicaca Effect was the fact that lightweight and very expensive materials such as titanium and advanced ceramics did not need to be used in the payloads. Since weight was not a concern, ordinary steel would suffice. Freeman’s solution had meant that the first manned launch could take place as scheduled.

  At exactly two hours before launch, the flight director signaled the start of the countdown that would orchestrate the myriad activities that had to be completed before liftoff. The site was a beehive of activity, with more than 70 engineers, technicians and other personnel on site, each with a specific set of responsibilities during the launch. Some would monitor the telemetry or handle the video communications coming from the spacecraft, some were responsible for positioning the payload properly for the launch, still others were medical personnel whose task was to monitor the health of the crew. Each had been hand-picked either by Stout, Freeman, or by the head of the Comisión Boliviana del Espacio, a trusted former aide to President Maldonado. The only exception to the one-at-a-time personnel reviews were the multinational security forces that had been designated by the countries participating in the operation, including the People’s Republic of China, who remained a part of the security detail even though the nation had been barred from the first round of launches.

  Alicia was at the spaceport, certainly, to be there with Freeman for the first manned launch. But her role included far more than moral support. Unlike the test, there was no way that Freeman would have even attempted to keep the press away from this launch. This was important news, the biggest event in space travel since the first landing on the moon, and news organizations from all over the world had turned out in force to cover it. It was Alicia’s responsibility to keep them happy, give them the access they needed, and above all, to keep them from getting underfoot. It was a big job, but as she had joked that morning over breakfast, somebody had to do it.

  Unlike the launch pads at Cape Canaveral, there was no real reason to keep news reporters and dignitaries miles from the site. Since the spacecraft and thruster frame would simply fall up without the aid of rockets other than the relatively low-powered thrusters needed to keep them aligned within the pipe, there was no real danger to anyone except the astronauts. For security reasons, however, the decision had been made to keep the spectators a half-mile away. Bleachers had been set up for the purpose, and next to the bleachers, tents and mobile communications vans that would send television images to living rooms across the world. Thousands of feet of power and communications cables snaked across the tarmac, giving the whole scene the look of a gigantic movie set.

  Looking at his watch, Freeman headed across the tarmac to the hanger that held the ungainly-looking thruster frame enclosing the lifting body. The doors to the hanger, closed during the night to keep heat in the hanger and avoid the freezing problems that had doomed the Challenger space shuttle flight, had now swung open. Technicians were crawling around the steel framework, checking the wiring and the welds securing the triple-redundant thruster engines that would control the payload’s trajectory on its way into space.

  In the interior of the hanger, Freeman could see Segurola and the rest of the crew headed toward the cargo carrier. They were to board the spacecraft while it was still in the hanger, riding with it to the launch position. They wore bright yellow spacesuits, accented in red and green. The decision to use the vibrant colors in the Bolivian flag had been Alicia’s idea, and the effect was striking. The Bolivian flag had also been painted on each side of the spacecraft, which during the launch would be designated “Condor One.” Freeman arrived at the cargo carrier at the same time as the astronauts.

  “Pancho, the day is finally here,” he said as he shook hands with the mission commander. During the preparations for the flight, he and the young Bolivian pilot had become fast friends. He and Alicia had been to the Segurola family’s home for dinner, and Freeman genuinely liked the man. “Nervous?”

  “No, Tyler, not nervous. Excited.”

  “I’ll bet!” Freeman shook the hand of each of the other four crew members in turn, telling them, “This is going to be one for the history books.”

  As they talked, a Hummer came across the tarmac toward the hanger. When it stopped in front of them, the passenger door swung open and President Maldonado stepped out, smiling, followed by a reporter, a cameraman from the TV pool that had been set up to cover various aspects of the launch, and to Freeman’s surprise, Janey. Maldonado had been captivated by the ten-year-old girl when Freeman took her to the presidential palace to meet him, and they had become great friends. When she ran over to hug her father, he whispered in her ear, “Well, aren’t you something! Hanging out with the president. Way cool!” She giggled in response.

  “This is a great day for Bolivia, gentlemen,” the president said as he shook hands with Segurola and Freeman. He then shook hands with the other crew members, saying “Your role in this event is much appreciated, all of you. You symbolize the hope of all mankind that Bolivia’s new doorway to the cosmos will be used for peace and the advancement of humanity to a new level of international cooperation.” It was a perfectly-crafted sound bite.

  Damn, he’s
good, Freeman thought. If they ever had an election for President of the World, he’d be hard to beat.

  While Maldonado chatted with the other astronauts, Freeman pulled Segurola aside. “Pancho, have you given any thought to what you’re going to say?”

  “What do you mean?” Segurola asked.

  “Well, when you reach orbit, your words are going to broadcast all over the world. You need to say something people will remember.”

  “Like ‘one small step for a man’?”

  “Right.”

  “No, I haven’t given it any thought. Any suggestions?”