The Glass Lady

by Douglas Savage

  “Okay, Flight,” Parker confirmed. “GPC and BFC have accepted the IMU alignment.”

  Each of the three IMU’s was aligned to a slightly different reference point so each unit could be cross-checked against the other two.

  “We see it, Endeavor. Main computers One through Four have the state vectors. Your GPC Mode Five is stand-by. Execute Item 25. Then proceed with ARS routine.”

  “Roger, Flight. Challenge and readback, Number One.”

  Enright, flat on his back, consulted his thick Procedures Manual open in his lap. He recited the checklist.

  “Cabin Atmosphere breakers closed, Main Bus B, Overhead Panel Fifteen, Row D: Cabin delta pressure and delta temp, nitrogen supply Number Two, oxygen-nitrogen controller Two, oxygen crossover valve Two, nitrogen regulator inlet Number Two, and, cabin relief A. All closed, Skipper.”

  “Confirmed, Jack.”

  “Atmosphere pressure control breakers, Main Bus A, Overhead Panel Fourteen, Row D: Nitrogen supply Number One, oxygen-nitrogen controller One, oxygen crossover Number One, nitrogen regulator inlet One, cabin vent and isolated cabin vent, all breakers closed, Skipper.”

  “Okay, Number One. Confirm emergency oxygen and cabin relief valve Bravo breakers closed, Overhead Panel Sixteen, Main Bus Charlie.”

  “Confirmed, Skipper.”

  “And on my side, Jack: Flash evaporator feedline heater running alpha supply Number One and bravo supply Number Two, Panel Left-Two. On my Panel Left-One: Humidity separator alpha on, bravo off; cabin fans A and B on; water pump Loop One to GPC with Loop Two off; Loop One bypass to auto; water Loop Two to auto; and, flash evaporator controllers, Primary A and B to GPC.” The command pilot followed the checklist in his lap.

  “Confirmed, Skipper.”

  “Okay, Flight. ARS is powered up and full of Go.”

  “Roger, left seat. We’re Go at T-30 minutes. We are now updating the SRB guidance for winds aloft.”

  The ground computers spoke to the black boxes within each of the two solid rocket boosters strapped to the sides of the external tank. Final steering commands told the SRB computers how best to cleave the high altitude, winds aloft encountered during the first 60 seconds of launch. So vicious were these winds during the launch of STS-5 in November 1982 that Mission Control nearly canceled the Veterans Day launch.

  “Endeavor: We’ll be pressurizing the OMS and RCS pods in a moment.”

  “We’ll watch it, Flight,” Enright called into the twin microphones inside his helmet.

  In Endeavor’s tail, gaseous nitrogen pressure increased in each of the two orbital maneuvering system pods.

  One OMS pod, 22 feet long and 12 feet wide, protrudes from each side of Endeavor’s vertical tail fin. The rocket engine, ignition system in each pod fires the single, large rocket at the back end of each OMS pod. Each of the two OMS engines drives Shuttle with 6,000 pounds of thrust after the three Shuttle main engines have finished their work during the launch. Gaseous nitrogen opens the pneumatic activation valves which send fuel and oxidizer to the thrust chambers of each OMS engine. Without 360 pounds of gas pressure in the ignition valves, the OMS engines cannot fire to give Shuttle its final push into orbit, to provide power for large maneuvers in space, and to slow Shuttle so she falls from orbit at journey’s end.

  “We see 2,500 pounds in the main GN2 tanks, Flight,” Enright called from the copilot’s right seat.

  “We confirm, Jack.”

  In the three reaction control system units, one in Endeavor’s nose and one in each OMS pod, gaseous helium pressure increased in the two helium tanks carried within each RCS module. The helium pressurized each RCS unit’s fuel tank topped with 930 pounds of monomethyl-hydrazine and one oxidizer tank filled with 1,488 pounds of nitrogen tetroxide.

  “We have gas pressure in RCS forward and aft left and right, and in OMS left and OMS right, Flight.”

  “Roger, Endeavor. At T-22 minutes, your primary avionics are on line.”

  Throughout Endeavor, black boxes warmed to life. Navigation beacons prepared to steer Shuttle back to an emergency landing at Cape Canaveral’s concrete, three-mile-long runway if a launch malfunction during the first 265 seconds of powered flight dictated a high-speed turnaround for a perilous Return To Launch Site abort, or RTLS. In the mission simulator, Parker and Enright had bent their metal and had gotten their feet wet more than once.

  “Copy, Flight. Configured for RTLS steering . . . Let’s hope not,” the AC sighed.

  “Endeavor: At T-20 minutes, configure GPC to ascent OPS-1”

  “This is the AC. We’re running computer Operations Sequence One outbound. Cabin vents comin’ closed now.”

  “Roger, Aircraft Commander.”

  Endeavor’s four primary General Purpose Computers concentrated on the OPS-1 launch program for steering the powered launch phase. In the fifth back-up GPC, a separate ascent program ticked away, ready to fly Shuttle aloft if computers One through Four should fail. Trajectory graphs blinked upon the front instrument panel’s three television screens on the flightdeck.

  “Endeavor: You’re Go at T-19 minutes and counting. Configure computer Error Logic to RESET position, and configure GPC to MM-101 and OPS-9.”

  “Copy, Flight,” the AC called. “Major Mode 101 is running.” With Operations Sequence Nine, the on-board Shuttle computers were taking Endeavor’s pulse as her own black boxes monitored the computerized, pre-launch checkout. Shuttle is America’s first manned spacecraft designed to automatically launch itself with its own, onboard computers.

  “Endeavor: You’re Go at fifteen minutes and counting. We’re now conducting the nitrogen purge of the SRB skirts. Configure OMS and RCS crossfeed valves for launch.”

  “Okay, Flight,” Parker replied lazily. The command pilot was relaxed and ready to fly. With his legs elevated above his reclining body, the throbbing in his right leg ceased and he was comfortable.

  “Okay, Number One. Panel Overhead Seven: Left, aft RCS pod, crossfeed lines One and Two configured GPC talk-back closed, and crossfeed lines Three, Four, and Five, configured GPC talk-back closed. Right, aft RCS crossover lines One and Two to GPC talk-back closed. Lines right Three, Four, and Five, to GPC talk-back closed. And, master RCS crossfeed locked off.”

  “Okay, Flight. Our RCS crossfeed is ready to go.”

  “Copy that, right seat. We’re listening.”

  “Ready for OMS, Skipper.”

  “With you, Jack. Panel Overhead Eight: Left OMS crossfeed Loop A and Loop B to GPC talk-back closed. Left OMS engine, lever-locked armed, Panel Center Three. OMS right: Crossfeed Loops A and B to GPC talk-back closed. Right engine lever-locked armed, Panel Center Three . . . OMS primed and ready, Flight.”

  “We copy, Endeavor. At ten minutes and counting, we see cabin vents are sealed.”

  “Roger, Flight. Vents closed.”

  Fifteen hundred miles to the north, an exhausted Admiral nodded his sagging face. A Colonel at his side spoke into a red telephone in a glass room where no sun ever shines. The haggard Colonel laid the phone down gently and he wiped his hands upon his thighs as if the instrument were unclean.

  “Endeavor: You are Go at T-9 minutes. Start your event timers at this time. The Ground Launch Sequencer now has the con.”

  “We see it here, Flight.”

  The countdown was now fully automatic. The master launch computer could either let the count go to zero or could stop the countdown at any moment.

  “And, Endeavor, we are now feeding you the new PTI-7 routine for re-entry.”

  The two pilots flat on their backs glanced sideways at each other. Five on-board computers swallowed the Programmed Test Input Number Seven to be engaged during re-entry.

  “Alright, Flight,” the Colonel shrugged high atop Pad 39-A. “We see lox tank in the ET topping off now.”

  Inside the silo-size external tank bolted to Endeavor’s belly, the liquid oxygen, or LOX, tank had been continuously venting out frigid vapors into the clear morning air. As th
e super-cold gas vaporized, the ET’s supply of 140,000 gallons of liquid oxygen was steadily replenished through lines running from the launch tower. Now the replenishing and venting of oxygen stopped so the sealed tank could build up flight pressure.

  Twenty-seven hundred miles away, over California, the killer satellite LACE crossed the American coastline at its ground speed of 300 miles per minute. The silent, slowly tumbling bird whirled eastward toward Florida. LACE would soar directly over Cape Canaveral at the instant Shuttle rode the fire into the sky.

  “At seven minutes and counting, Endeavor, the access arm is in motion. You’re on your own, guys.”

  Outside, the catwalk from Pad 39-A jerked away from Endeavor’s closed side hatch. The long arm would require one minute to swing back to its locked position next to the tall gantry well clear of Shuttle.

  As the crew access arm left Shuttle’s glass side, Endeavor at last stood naked and white in the dazzling daylight. Portions of her round nose and the forward parts of the two OMS pods showed slightly dark scorch marks from her past re-entries from orbit.

  Along Cocoa Beach and the Kennedy Space Center’s Merritt Island sands a thousand eyes squinted into the sun as hearts beat faster in time to the two hearts strapped within Endeavor’s aluminum soul.

  “Endeavor: At six and counting, confirm faceplate visors closed and locked. Configure APU for startup.”

  “Roger, Flight,” the command pilot called as he and Enright pulled their clear faceplates down over their faces. As each pilot locked his faceplate into position on his helmet, the pilots’ nostrils inhaled the spaceman’s blend of bottled air laced with the smell of rubber hoses and sweat.

  “Ready for APU checklist, Will,” Enright called through the flightdeck intercom. His voice was anxious.

  When the three auxiliary power units were lit to supply pressurized hydraulic fluid to Shuttle’s wings and tail and to the steering motors which swing the three space shuttle main engines, the ship would be committed to fly within five minutes. Failure to go would mean shutting down the APU’s and returning to the T-20 minute point in the countdown to give the APU’s time to cool. Enright was tense. Like a pilot’s first solo flight from a long-ago grass field, like a body’s first wet kiss, to practice for a lifetime cannot dilute the gut’s tension at the event. Enright raised his right gloved hand to the instrument panel above his right elbow. He had done so a thousand times before, in the mission simulator and in his sleep. But this was the first time he did it with his hands sweating.

  As his captain recited the checklist for the APU’s, Enright’s right hand waited for each command before his fingers threw the silver toggle switches.

  “Okay, Number One, this one’s a keeper. On Panel Right-Two: APU Numbers One, Two, and Three, controller power lever-locked on.”

  Enright flipped three switches.

  “Fuel tank valves One, Two, and Three lever-locked open.”

  “And, APU’s One, Two and Three barber-poled as ready, Skipper.”

  “Okay, Jack. Speed select to normal One, Two and Three.”

  “Speed normal, all three APU’s, Will.”

  “All hydraulic main pump pressures to normal.”

  “Normal, normal and normal, Skipper.”

  “And, automatic shutdown to enable, Jack.”

  “Enable.”

  “Fuel pump valve coolant, Loops A and B, to auto.”

  “Auto, auto and auto.” Enright returned his clammy hand to his lap.

  “Endeavor: At five minutes and counting, your flight recorders are running. You’re cleared to crank up the APU’s.”

  “Rogo, Flight,” Enright called. “Number One, lever-locked start! Number Two, start! Number Three, lever-locked start! And, we have APU ignition times three. Hydraulic pressure is up and in the green. Three water spray boilers also on-line and green all values. Hydraulic fluid at 220 degrees with APU lube oil at 270 degrees.”

  “We see it, right seat. Looks fine. And configure Caution and Warning to ascent mode.”

  In Endeavor’s tail section, the three auxiliary power units hummed and their small engines pumped warm hydraulic fluid through Endeavor’s veins. The wings and tall tail were now alive for flying like any airplane with elevons on the wings and the rudder fin on the tail. These control surfaces would fly the Return To Launch Site abort if necessary during the first four-and-a-half minutes of launch. Hydraulic fluid also surged at flight pressures within the three Space Shuttle Main Engines, SSME’s, to power the engines’ gimbal motors which will pivot the SSME nozzles to steer the rising ship.

  As the countdown passed the five-minute mark, the automatic launch sequencer armed the ship’s explosive, self-destruction mechanism which would annihilate the solid boosters and would fatally rupture the external tank’s seams if the vessel flew off course.

  “Range safety is hot, Endeavor. At four and a half, configure Main Propulsion Systems and ATVC.”

  “Rogo, Flight. On your side, Jack, Panel Right-Two. Main engines: Helium isolation Loop A to GPC; helium Loop B to GPC; helium interconnect to GPC; liquid oxygen prevalves to lever-locked GPC; and, liquid hydrogen prevalves lever-locked GPC. Engine Interface Units: Main center, main left, and main right to on. Center engine, power source select to bus AC-1; left main engine, power source to AC-2; and, right main, power source to AC-3.”

  “With you all the way, Skipper. She’s hot and ready to fly!” Enright’s hand swept the instrument panel at his right side.

  “Okay, Jack. Your side: Helium crossover to GPC. On Panel Right-Four: Liquid oxygen feedline relief, lever-locked GPC; liquid hydrogen feedline relief, lever-locked GPC; liquid oxygen manifold pressure, lever-locked GPC; and, liquid hydrogen manifold pressure, lever-locked GPC.”

  “She’s primed now, Skip!” Enright shouted into his glass faceplate. The hairs on the back of his neck tingled.

  “And my side, Jack, Panel Center-Three: Main Propulsion System, limit shutdown to auto, and, vibration shutdown to auto . . . Okay, Flight: The Glass Lady is ready to roll.”

  “Copy, AC. At T-4 minutes, your SSME helium purge is complete.”

  “Mains purged, copy.”

  “T-3 minutes and 45 seconds, Endeavor. We see your aero surfaces cycling.”

  The elevons, combination elevator-ailerons at the back edges of Shuttle’s wings, flexed automatically in preparation for flight.

  “And we see ASA cycling,” Enright confirmed as he scanned the rectangular indicator of control surface positions above the center, green television screen. The indicator’s pointers moved left and right as the elevons, vertical rudder, and the body flap beneath the three main engines moved briefly.

  “This is the right seat. We have TVC hydraulics lever-locked neutral, systems One, Two, and Three, on Panel Right-Four. And on Panel Overhead-17, we have ATVC Channel Two. Solid booster separation, mode select is auto on Panel Center-Three. External tank separation lever-locked auto on Panel C-3. External tank umbilical doors, latch select lever-locked auto on Panel Right-Two.” “Copy, Jack. Ascent Thrust Vector Control is set. At T-three-and-a-half minutes, you are on internal power.”

  Shuttle was now self-sufficient, cut off from ground electricity, and running on her own electrical fuel cells.

  In her three fuel cells, liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen join to form electricity, heat, and water beneath the floor of the closed payload bay. The fuel cells generate seven pounds of waste water each hour for the drinking water tanks and for the coolant systems.

  The automatic launch sequencer swung the engine nozzles from side to side on the three, main engines to ready them to steer Endeavor by their shifting positions.

  “At 3 minutes, Endeavor, SSME gimbal test complete.”

  “We watched it, Flight.”

  “Roger, AC. At 2 minutes and 55 seconds, ET LOX tank is sealed and coming up to flight pressure.”

  In the massive external tank, glinting brown without paint to save weight in the sunshine, the liquid oxygen stopped ventin
g vapors as the tank sealed for launch.

  “Flight: We see the LOX vent arm leaving us.”

  “Roger, AC, at 2 minutes 50 seconds.”

  The launch tower’s hollow arm was attached to the nose of the external tank for replenishing the ET’s liquid oxygen as it boiled away. The fueling pipe pulled back from the ready starship.

  High over Texas, a black laser gunship was streaking eastward as it rolled slowly in the airless, piercing sunshine. Following LACE, two Russians in their round Soyuz vessel soared over Nevada in pursuit 10 hours into their long day. The Soviet craft’s twin arrays of solar panels, like glass and silicon wings, sucked in the fierce daylight to generate electricity.

  “At 2 minutes 45 seconds, Endeavor, your fuel cell ground supply is off.”

  “Roger, Flight.”

  Endeavor’s fuel cells now lapped at Shuttle’s own four tanks of liquid oxygen and four of liquid hydrogen beneath the floor of the payload bay with its blankets of silvered, plastic mylar.

  “At two minutes and fifteen seconds, SSME gimbals are set.”

  “We saw it, Flight.”

  The shuttle’s three main engines swiveled into launch position to push Shuttle upward and slightly sideways at the instant of ignition. Like any winged airplane, the shuttle’s flight out of the atmosphere will generate lift from her massive wings. The direction of lift, perpendicular to Shuttle’s belly, would rip her backward away from the external tank if the main engines in Endeavor’s tail did not thrust forward in the direction of the external tank to counter the wings’ lifting forces.

  “At one minute, fifty-seven seconds, the ET is flight-pressurized, Endeavor.”

  “Thanks, Flight. Let’s light this candle!” Enright nearly shouted. He was ready and his temples pounded with the Go which surged breathlessly through his veins. Along the beach, faces were riveted on Endeavor and many lungs dared not breathe. Half a country away, a child-woman kissed a television screen, where her daddy lay on his back atop 4½ million pounds of iron and frothing explosives. Above the clear blue sky, LACE looked down upon Alabama.