The Primeiro team had achieved several additional flights of the Passaro in the three weeks following the first test flight, some as high as thirty thousand feet, with no problems. Now appeared to be the time for the historical space flight itself. In the cockpit sat two pilots who had alternated flying the Passaro on the initial flights, Felipe Santos and Gustavo Costa. Both were former Air Force pilots, and both had experience in the early stages of Brazil’s aerospace programs. José Silva had known each of them for many years.
Felipe was the older of the two at forty-two years old. He was five feet nine with black hair, thick black eyebrows, brown eyes, and a toned body. He was unmarried, and all the ladies thought him handsome. Gustavo, at thirty-eight, stood at a well-built five feet seven, also with black hair and brown eyes. The ladies thought him handsome as well, but his wife discouraged their attention. They both sat in the cockpit of the Passaro, all preflight checks completed, awaiting the green light for departure and their first trip into space.
“Are you ready for this, my friend?” asked Felipe.
“All my life!” replied Gustavo with a brilliant smile.
Just then a green light shone from the portable control tower.
“Here we go!” shouted Felipe as he advanced the two throttles controlling the air-breathing turbine engines.
As it had in their test flights, the Passaro rolled out smoothly on its takeoff run. The nose wheel lifted, soon followed by the main landing gear, and they were airborne.
“Gear up,” Felipe said as he scanned the horizon and his instruments.
“Gear coming up,” replied Gustavo as he pulled the gear handle up. “Gear up and locked, all lights are green,” he added a few seconds later.
“Roger, gear up and locked, three green. Switch to Primeiro Control. No more radio silence, Gustavo.”
“True enough, switching to Primeiro Control.”
“Primeiro Control, this is Passaro passing four thousand, over,” announced Felipe over the radio.
“Roger, Passaro, passing four thousand. We have you on radar. Switch your TCC transponder on now for data feed.”
“Roger, TCC transponder on now, Control, over.”
“Control has TCC contact. Good data feed. Continue on flight planned route, out.”
“Initiate fusion engines now, Gustavo.”
“Roger, ignition of fusion one and two now. Good ignition, steady burn.”
“Roger that. As I advance the fusion drive, you reduce the turbine power proportionately,” directed Felipe.
“Reducing turbine power now.”
“One hundred percent fusion power achieved. Turbines off.”
“Turbines off. Pressures zero,” replied Gustavo.
With full power from the fusion drive, the Passaro achieved orbit in record time, primarily because the specific impulse of fusion power was several orders of magnitude greater than conventional rocket power.
“Primeiro Control, Passaro has achieved orbit, over!” Felipe nearly shouted into the radio.
“Passaro, Primeiro Control. All telemetry is good. Congratulations! We are in contact with both Guiana and NASA Space Control, and you are clear to maneuver, over.”
“Roger, Control, free to maneuver, out.” Felipe glanced over at his copilot. “OK, Gustavo, roll right coming up now, now, now,” he said as he used the Passaro’s thrusters to roll the spacecraft right through 360 degrees.
“Roll complete. Roll to left now, now, now!” repeated Felipe, this time completing the roll to the left through 360 degrees.
“Roll complete. Stand by for 90-degree pitch up, now, now, now,” said Felipe as he pitched the nose up until they were 90 degrees from their line of orbital motion. He then returned. “Pitch maneuver complete.”
These types of maneuvers continued until they had flown in every conceivable attitude. Then came the big moment—breaking orbit. This had never been done before.
“OK, Gustavo, here comes the big one. We break orbit and fly around a little before returning to orbit and then home. Ready?”
“Ready to break orbit. All systems normal.”
“Primeiro Control, Passaro is breaking orbit.”
“Roger, Passaro, this is Control. All systems normal from here. Good luck!”
Felipe and Gustavo then went on the flight of their lives. In the darkness of space and with the Earth as a backdrop, they flew circles and rolls, changed vectors and speeds, and if they could have, they felt like flying to the Moon.
With that, Felipe and Gustavo made history by successfully breaking orbit and flying free in space. This did not go unnoticed by the world. Every TV and radio station was glued to the reports coming from Brazil, France, and the US. Man had taken another giant step to the stars.
In three weeks of serious work, Van and Harry had been busy distributing new white papers and research funds for a variety of new technologies. Some of the most important new releases included details on a stable compressed crystal energy storage system able to store great quantities of rechargeable energy in excess of any battery system in use; an efficient and low-cost desalinization system and processes to make more fresh water available to everyone; the first practical designs for atom computers and their manufacturing systems; and finally, ideas for advances in food production, including farming deserts and networked soil sensors hopefully leading to increased crop yields.
In the Site R Ops Center, Van was reviewing more technology that might be released soon when he saw breaking news from Brazil on one of the wall-mounted monitors.
Leaning forward in his seat, he watched as the story of the Passaro flight unfolded.
“They did it, Harry! This Brazilian company nobody knows about actually did it!” he said, jumping up from his chair and almost dancing around the Site R Operations Center.
“Yes, Commander, they did. This marks an important step in mankind’s advancement. You should be proud of your work here as well.”
“Not me, Harry. The Host. I just did what they expected of me. What do we know about this company?”
“It is called Brazaero, Commander, and is owned by a Brazilian named José Silva. Dr. Silva is a well-known person in the history of Brazilian space efforts and started his own company to apparently do what he has just done. The flight occurred from a remote site in Brazil, which was a one-time Brazilian Air Force base long since abandoned.
“The engine and fuel are consistent with the specifications that we released. However, Brazaero was not on the distribution list for the engine.”
“I guess we expected some leaks, but exactly how did this one occur?”
“Unknown, Commander. However, the aerospace industry in Brazil is quite close-knit, and it is not beyond probability that the design was given to Brazaero by associates in the industry who did receive the design.”
“And where did they get the fuel?”
“From a company on the distribution list called EOS Chemicals, Commander. It appears that they made a large quantity of the fuel before the global suspension.”
“Why does the name EOS Chemical seem familiar to me?”
“As you may recall, Commander, EOS Chemicals was previously owned by Mr. Peter Meier.”
“Of course, now I remember. Who owns it now?”
“The major shareholder was the president of EOS, Mr. Elias Boller. After the death of Mr. Meier, ownership reverted to him as the largest remaining shareholder since there were no Meier family members to make claim to it.”
“Interesting. A company formerly owned by Meier has the largest and best supply of fuel just when it’s needed. Then a company not on our distribution list for the engine not only builds one but also uses it to successfully launch from Earth into space and then maneuver out of orbit and return. Any linkage there, Harry?”
“None that I can detect, Commander. I will continue to monitor events to get a better picture, but for now Brazaero appears to be what it claims to be.”
“OK, I must be overly suspicious. What oth
er news is there?”
“Some good news, Commander. Because of this successful flight, embargos on the production of fuel and engine construction are being lifted rapidly. We may be about to witness a major space race.”
“That could be good or bad, Harry. A rush to get into space is one thing, and what I had hoped for. But a rush among powers to dominate space is not so welcome. We need to keep Big Brother focused on the major powers to see how they react.”
“Yes, Commander, I agree.”
The crowds and press outside the perimeter of the Primeiro test facility the day after the momentous flight were more than just tremendous—they appeared to be dangerous. José Silva worried that the crowd might storm the gates and try to get a look at the Passaro, much like the French crowds at Le Bourget Airport rushed Lindbergh after he touched down in the Spirit of St. Louis in May of 1927.
Thankfully, elements of the Brazilian Army arrived to perform crowd-control duties after the president asked José if there was anything he could do for him. Once the crowd was under control and the Passaro in no further danger, José flew by helicopter to São Paulo, where he had guests waiting for him when he landed. One of those was Frederico Rendon.
“José, what a wonderful achievement. You should be very proud, my friend!” said the effusive Rendon.
“No, it is for Brazil to be proud. We are now at center stage in the race for the stars!” responded José with a broad smile as he hugged Frederico.
“Of course, of course, a very great day for Brazil. And for us as well, don’t you think?”
“Yes, for us as well,” José said, releasing Frederico with slightly less excitement in his voice.
“What is next, José?”
Back in his enthusiastic mode José said, “We proceed with Passaro II. She is bigger and carries more fuel. In addition, she is more sophisticated and, therefore, safer.”
“What are your plans exactly for Passaro II?”
“We want to spend more time in space. Conduct longer maneuvering routines and perhaps even carry some tests for Brazil or other countries, just as the space shuttle once did. There should be great profit in that as well as scientific advancements!”
“Most assuredly, José. All worthwhile and potentially profitable. Speaking of tests, I may have one or two to perform, and I hope I can get some priority to do so.”
“What sort of tests?” asked José warily.
“I cannot tell you that right now. Just leave some space on the next flight for me. I will have an engineer give you the size and weight specifications and show you what he needs at Primeiro. I will also require the placement of two of my engineers on board to conduct the test. I understand that the Passaro II is equipped for that, correct?”
“Well yes, of course. But we had not planned for anybody but our own crews who either have been trained or are preparing now.”
“But we are partners, my friend.”
“And if I object?”
“We are also friends, are we not? Friends do things for friends, especially when the method of obtaining designs are concerned, as well as the mysterious tragedies that occurred so that you could take the lead. Are we not agreed?”
“Yes, of course,” José said reluctantly.
Initially José had thought the accidents were just that, accidents. When he realized that they were orchestrated by Frederico, he was sick. But at this point, he was hamstrung. If I say anything about Germany and the Philippines now, what would happen to Brazil’s new prominence on the world stage? José thought. I can’t let that be torn away. So he decided to say nothing.
“Good! We are agreed. Now go and celebrate. You and your team deserve it.” And Frederico Rendon quietly left the Brazaero facility unnoticed.
Several days later, teams at Primeiro were relieved that the crowds had gone and they could get back to work. In the preparation hangar, teams went over Passaro II before her first series of taxi and flight tests, and Felipe and Gustavo, now over their hangovers, focused on the second craft.
“Look at this, Felipe, so much bigger than the little Passaro.”
“Yes, and more capable. We are living a dream, are we not?”
“Indeed, I have had enough of the flight simulators. Let’s get in and see it for ourselves.”
“Right you are. The cabin door is open and the ramp attached. You first,” Felipe said, making a sweeping gesture with his hands for Gustavo to lead on.
As they entered the main cabin, both astronauts were surprised to see a technician they did not know. Moreover, he was not Brazilian; he looked Chinese.
“Good morning, my friend. I am Felipe and this is my copilot, Gustavo. Who are you please?”
The slight man with glasses turned in surprise at having been addressed. “Please, sir, I am Chao Ping, an engineer for Brazaero. Pleased to meet you.”
“Indeed, Mr. Ping. Why have we not seen you here before?” asked Gustavo with one eyebrow up.
“I am new hired. I come from China many years ago to go to school in São Paulo. Mr. Silva asked me here to work on improved electronics. See, I have security badge,” said Chao Ping and showed the approved Brazaero badge with his name and photo.
“Very well. Welcome to Brazaero and to the wonders of space flight,” Felipe said, offering his hand with a smile.
Gustavo also shook the new engineer’s hand and nodded. “Are there more of you new to the project?”
“Yes, I believe so. I am told that there will be some test engineers monitoring a test platform on the actual space flight.”
“Yes, we heard that also, but we have not yet met them. Please go on with what you are doing,” said Felipe as he and Gustavo turned into the flight deck.
As the two astronauts moved forward, Chao Ping gave them a crooked grin behind their backs and then went about his work.
CHAPTER 10
Over the last year, Van had noted that even his normally alert senses were getting better. Better to the extent that he was becoming more aware of them. Or maybe I’m just getting more paranoid as I get older. But forty-something isn’t all that old.
“Harry, is it me or are things going too smoothly?”
“I don’t understand, Commander.”
“What I mean is, we have gone weeks, and nothing bad has happened. That’s a good thing, but somehow I get nervous when that happens.”
“You may be overreacting, Commander. One should not be upset when his plans are working.”
“I suppose you’re right. Has Big Brother come up with any more on the two incidents in Germany and the Philippines?”
“No, Commander, nothing more than what we speculated. My investigations reveal that some sort of tampering likely occurred in each case. But there are too many suspects to place actual blame. In addition, globally the investigations seem to be of secondary importance now since the success of the Brazil flight.”
“True. Who do you expect to make the next flight?”
“Still uncertain, Commander. Many are close, but who is in the clear lead is uncertain. As you know, I do not guess, but if I did, I might pick one of the US companies like Galactic Adventures.”
I don’t think so, thought Van. An airline turned travel company just doesn’t seem like the next big thing in space. No, as much as I wish they would launch, my bet is on the Brazilians again.
“Whoever it is, I hope they launch soon. Our project needs more competition. Anything we can do to move things along?”
“Short of giving some organization a fully capable spacecraft, I do not believe so, Commander.”
“OK. Once a few more launch, I have been thinking of releasing some form of the antigravity/gravity systems like the ones in the shuttles. What do you think?”
“I believe that would be the next logical step. It would do away with the need for turbine engines in atmosphere, provide for a safe hover capability, and make things more comfortable while in space. Would you like me to prepare the paperwork?”
“Yes. Do that,
but don’t release anything until we see a few more successes.”
“Very well, Commander.”
“We should be happy our plans of preparing the Earth for space flight, and eventually the Arkon, are moving along—albeit at a bumpy pace.”
“That is very true, Commander.”
The Primeiro test employees were excited. Over the past weeks, the Passaro II had completed its taxi tests and two low-level flights, just as the first Passaro had. Everything was in readiness for the actual launch. This time there was no secrecy, however. Crowds were again collecting around the perimeter, and a few select news services were permitted to stage near the control building.
Felipe and Gustavo took their positions in the pilot’s and copilot’s seats after exchanging greetings with the two technicians who would accompany the mysterious test package.
“Felipe,” Gustavo said, “did you notice that the two technicians on board are also Chinese?”
“Yes I did. I met with José Silva before we left the control center, and he told me their names. They prefer to be called by Portuguese first names—Carlos and Jorge. They say we can’t pronounce their real names anyway. José assured me that they have passed security checks.”
“OK, but it still seems strange. First the technician working on electronics and now these two. I thought this was supposed to be a flight in Brazilian honor.”
“It is a new world, Gustavo. Global everything. Now, are your preflight checks complete?”
“Roger, checks complete, ready for engine start.”
As the twin turbines of the Passaro II started and the craft taxied to the hold-short point of the runway, the crowds became more excited. They all felt that they were viewing a major event in history, especially for Brazil. Just then a green light flashed from the small portable tower, and the Passaro II took the runway and started its takeoff roll.
Like most turbines at full power, the noise was loud, which added to the rising shouts and happy noises of the onlooking crowd. Unlike the earlier flight of the first Passaro, this time the fusion engines were ignited barely a thousand feet off the ground, and the crowd was treated to a bright flash as the Passaro II accelerated swiftly into the blue Brazilian sky.
Immortal Guardian: Hoast Saga Book 2 (Host Saga) Page 8