Dash said not to worry. She had a contingency. So she had Matt contact the operators of all the ships in the BrainTrust.
The tiny fish-oil-to-diesel converters found on every isle ship, used to supply fuel for their small numbers of non-electric vehicles, could be temporarily converted, for a price, with minor modifications and a substantial loss of efficiency, to make methane instead. By the end of the day, hastily-converted robo-vans were carting loads of methane from throughout the BrainTrust to the Heinlein. The Heinlein chilled the fuel down and stored it in new tanks on the lower decks.
Once that effort was in operation, Matt started calling shipping operators around the globe to find an LNG tanker he could lease and fill with methane. They would not need it for First Launch, but they would certainly need it soon.
Meanwhile, liquid oxygen generators were tested aboard the Heinlein itself, not to be used for real until launch day, when they would directly load the rocket’s LOX tanks. The LOX generator was powered by the Heinlein’s own nuclear reactors, only one of which was currently operational. But one reactor would be enough for First Launch.
Four days remained. The Vehicle Assembler and Transporter Tower, the complex titanium skeleton Matt had first seen depicted in the renderings of the Heinlein on his first day on the BrainTrust, came together from parts run off the 3D printers on the Argus. In the first test of the VATT’s ability to lift a booster from the drone platform onto the Heinlein, the cylinder swayed, struck the Heinlein starboard amidships, and crashed to a watery grave.
Matt’s heart skipped three beats as he watched the graceful disaster from a perch on the Argus. “I can’t… I don’t know…”
Werner crumpled beside him. “How?”
Colin visibly straightened as if preparing for gladiatorial combat. Matt was suspicious that Dash and Colin had started taking turns babysitting the top SpaceR management, i.e., Werner and himself, as the days counted down, and the ability of upper management to positively impact operations receded into the sunset.
But today Dash had actually returned to her own lab for a little while, “to get some real work done.” She’d apparently left Colin with the babysitting duty for this event.
Colin smiled. “Cheer up, folks,” he offered brightly. “Aren’t you glad that was just a mockup booster, not a real one? Do you think our people decided to use the mockup first because they were certain it would all work right the first time? Of course not. Our teams expected this.” Honesty compelled him to soften his claim. “Well, they didn’t really expect it, but they prepared for it. Contingency plans are already in motion.”
Colin held his finger up as if to point triumphantly as said plans went into effect but hastily put his hand back down. The VATT crew was looking forlornly over the side of the ship at the hull dent, as uncertain what to do as Matt and Werner. “At the team management level, of course. Contingency plans. In motion.”
All three of them watched, paralyzed, as nothing happened.
Then Alex ran onto the Heinlein’s deck and started shouting orders.
Matt could hear Colin exhale his held breath. “See?”
Three days left. It was the seventh day of the effort. And on the seventh day…no one rested.
However, a couple of people who thought they were akin to God rose up in righteous wrath.
The governor sat rigid in his chair, watching a disaster unfold before him on the wallscreen. He watched the scene over and over again, transfixed by horror. It was a YouTube video, very poor quality, captured with a cell phone at 2AM in the Port of Los Angeles at San Pedro. It showed three rocket lander drone ships departing the docks with a virtual forest of skyscraper-tall rocket boosters on board.
Occasionally, the governor would break the cyclic rhythm of the replay to show a companion video taken in bright daylight of a booster being lifted up the side of a modified isle ship. The drones with the forest of boosters could be seen in the background. He held his breath every time the booster being lifted crashed back into the sea. “What were they thinking?” he half-screamed to himself. “Has the new CEO of SpaceR gone mad?”
The Attorney General was staring down at his own laptop, completely oblivious to the comings and goings of boosters on the sea. Something far more terrible had happened. “Those greedy, selfish bastards,” he muttered. “Greedy. Selfish. Bastards!”
The governor tore his eyes away from the wallscreen. “They don’t look greedy from here. They look like idiots.”
The Attorney General jerked his hand in a brush-off that wanted to be a smack-down of someone’s face. “I’m not talking about the rockets. Forget the rockets. I’m talking about the money!”
The governor blinked at him in confusion. “The money? What about the money?”
“They stole it!” The Attorney General jerked back in his seat and glared at the governor. “When we first contacted SpaceR they promised they’d authorize the transfer of the four billion within forty-eight hours. But then they appointed the new CEO. He transferred the money to Goldman Sachs, claiming it would be easier for them to convert such large investments into cash. He explained he didn’t want us to suffer any losses from a crash in the value of the bonds.” The Attorney General spat, “From that moment on Goldman started giving us the runaround. Oh, we need an extra day to dissolve the holdings. Oh, the transfer authentication number is incorrect. Oh, we need authorization from one of the partners. Oops, the account accidentally got sent to the Caymans. We’ll get it back. On and on.” He took a deep breath. “Now we’re locked out. No one is answering my calls. I keep getting an admin who keeps apologizing and promising her boss will get back to us as soon as possible.”
The governor shrugged. “So get a court order.”
The Attorney General shook his head. “They moved the money onto the BrainTrust. You know Goldman Sachs has two isle ships there, right?”
The governor’s voice fell. “The BrainTrust. Again.”
The Attorney General ran both his hands through his hair. “They’ll pay for this. We’ll punish them for it. We just have to figure out how.”
The governor watched the booster crash into the sea again. “It may be pretty simple, actually.”
Day Eight. The VATT lifted the parts of a mockup rocket, assembled them, and trundled the resulting vehicle over to the launch pad. After a few tests, the VATT then started to transport the rocket back to the side for offloading. As the machine crossed the edge of the pad, where the graphene reinforced carbon met the surrounding cement, it died.
Colin, Dash, and Matt watched from the roof deck of the Argus as the VATT shuddered to a stop. Matt groaned.
Colin shook his head. “You need more Zen in your life, Matt. Looks like it got hung up on the edge of the pad. This is just a passing glitch.”
People and machines swarmed over the structure, then as quickly ran from it. The VATT started moving again. “See,” Colin continued, “No problem. Forty bots, twenty grad students, five engineers, and a partridge in a pear tree were able to get it moving again in moments.”
Matt looked at the sky. “I think the partridge made the difference.” He nodded his head sharply. “Good enough. It may all be rickety, but it’s going to work. Time to stop playing games with the Glorious State of California. I’ll tell Keenan to tell them they aren’t getting our money. Though I imagine they already suspect that.”
Dash left shortly thereafter to make a visit to her lab. She, like everyone else, was taking a ten-day break in her normal routine to support the launch effort. She hadn’t been back to the lab since Matt had arrived. Truthfully, she’d been putting off going back. She had enjoyed working with Byron so much, but it had ended so badly. Without an intern, the lab was, honestly, a little bit lonely. Still, there were things to do, and she should do some of them.
Meanwhile, on Minerva Street, a little girl’s father took her into their backyard and showed her his own engineering project. He had built a roof to go over the cat food dishes. He told her the roof w
as very strong and set her atop it to demonstrate its strength. She still looked doubtful, so he climbed up on the roof with her, wrapped his knuckles on the shingles, and promised no rocket could get through. This seemed to calm her.
Together they slid underneath the roof and sat by the water bowl. Her mother then came out, carrying a tiny black and white kitty, and handed it to the little girl. Mom said the kitty’s name was Fluffy, and the father demonstrated great wisdom by not pointing out that the kitten was so thin it would be better named Skinny. The kitty purred as the little girl stroked her ears.
On the ninth day, the VATT hoisted the first-stage boosters and the second stage and the payload onto the deck. The VATT assembled them and wheeled them onto the pad. A short firing test was conducted. Meanwhile, the isle ships of the BrainTrust disconnected their network of gangways and all the ships moved out to form a loose ring about a mile away from the Heinlein. Matt watched the fleet evolution from the Argus, standing by the gunwales on the port side, letting the cold ocean breeze whip against his face. Dash and Colin were with him. Werner and Alex were still aboard the Heinlein, making sure everything was ready.
Matt’s anxiety level had been rising constantly as they got closer to the launch. He clenched his teeth against the chill and clenched his hands against the winds of fate. “They’re all too close,” he complained again. “We could wipe out half the BrainTrust if this goes badly.”
Dash put a reassuring hand on his forearm. “This was the agreement we reached with Werner. We didn’t have enough time to acquire the gyroscopic stabilizers for the hull. So for these first couple of launches, the ships of the BrainTrust will act as a wall around the Heinlein that dampens the wind and waves.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I personally think it’s an unnecessary precaution. It’s not like we’re going to launch in the middle of a typhoon. And the Sea Launch Corporation was doing such launches from a repurposed offshore oil drilling platform in 1999. But we all agreed.”
Colin added, “And you’re a little over-concerned. I think you’d find that the isle ships are reasonably robust even in the face of a catastrophic explosion.” He paused, and confessed, “Well, the older ones are. The newest ships might go up rather spectacularly if the explosion breached the titanium coatings on the superstructure and the flames lit the underlying magnesium. But that’s really unlikely.”
“Way too close,” Matt muttered. “We should at least evacuate the people.”
Colin answered, “We’ve offered ferry rides for anyone who’s interested in being farther away. I think you’ll be surprised at how few people are taking us up on the offer. The launch is the talk of the whole fleet. Everybody wants to see what we’ve wrought — what they have wrought for the future of space flight.”
“Umph.” Matt turned and walked back inside the ship.
Back in California, the little girl opened her mouth several times as if to speak. The psychologist was very excited.
Dash had gotten close enough to her lab to see Bu Amanda waiting for her in her office when she heard her name shouted from down the passageway. She turned and waved. “Ben! Good to see you.”
Honestly, it was not as good as it might have been to see him. Ben had been one of her patients in her first anti-aging trials using telomere therapy. Unlike all the other patients it had neither given him a new lease on life nor killed him outright. At the time of the trials, he had walked haltingly but unaided. Now he came toward her using a walker. He was hunched over and worn-looking. Dash was at least glad to see that, when he reached her, he straightened up from the walker and was not out of breath. His smile still shone brightly. “Whatever you do, don’t tell me I’m looking young for my age.”
Dash just shook her head and returned his smile. “What are you doing here? We do not have any more checkups scheduled. Is there something amiss?”
He laughed. He was always laughing; it was almost unnerving. “No, something wonderful is happening. And I came looking for you to invite you to the celebration.”
Dash responded with the topmost thing in her mind. “First Launch is tomorrow! Of course.” She paused, puzzled. “Celebration?”
Ben spread his arms wide, swaying slightly without the support of the walker. “Celebration! You know the Haven has arrived, right?”
Dash nodded.
“And I told you long ago that I had a pad on board, though I was planning to stay in my cabin on the Dreams Come True and rent out my Haven place.”
Dash nodded again.
“So, the whole Haven is turning itself into a party boat for a pre-launch party. My pad is going to be ground zero for the event.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re invited. I won’t take no for an answer. You simply have to be one of my guests. You’re the talk of the ship, you know. Everyone wants to meet you.”
Dash looked away with a mild frown. “I am sorry, Ben, but I was hoping to watch the launch with friends. Other friends, that is,” she added for clarification.
“So bring them along. Just who all were you going to watch with?”
Dash shifted her head side to side. “Well, we have been so busy we have not really talked about a plan yet —”
“Excellent.”
“But I was expecting to watch the launch with Matt Toscano —”
“CEO of SpaceR?!” Ben’s eyes widened.
Dash did not notice his surprise. “Pak Colin —”
Ben chortled, “Wheeler! Why am I not surprised?”
“And probably Bu Amanda —”
“Chairman of the Board of the BrainTrust! Perfect! No wonder none of them have RSVP’d my invitations, they’re all planning to hang out with you! Girl, you have a more high-octane power-brokering party planned than I do. You must bring them to my place. I guarantee you’ll enjoy it. My place on the Haven simply must be seen to be believed.”
Dash looked skeptical. “I suppose it sounds as if I have been collecting, what would you call them, ‘movers and shakers,’ but that really wasn’t my plan at all.”
Ben’s laughter this time started in his chest and shook his whole body, though he wheezed as he took his next breath. “Of course not, Dash, I never thought it at all.”
“But not everyone I was hoping to share the launch with is a mover or a shaker. I was also hoping to be with my best friends, Ping and Jam. They are just peacekeepers.”
Ben blinked at her. “Just peacekeepers, is that what you think? They’re the pair that took out the loony tune Blue who tried to kill you, right?”
Dash nodded again. “And Colin. They saved Colin too.”
Ben started to laugh again, but a wave of pain passed over his face and he stopped. “Ping and Jam, the two heroes of Assault Night, and you call them ‘just peacekeepers.’”
Dash stomped her foot a little bit. “No, I do not call them ‘just peacekeepers.’ I call them my friends.”
Ben hid his face in his hands. “Girl, they are just as famous as you are. At least here on the BrainTrust.” He put his hands down and looked at her thoughtfully. For the first time in the conversation, he did not look like he was going to laugh. “Even if they were not famous, they would still be welcome to our Haven party. Just because they are your friends, for one thing.” He twitched his nose. “But there’s more to it than that. I’m sure at this point that you’ve got the impression that my goal is to have the most prestigious party, with the most powerful people around as my guests. You probably think I want ‘everybody who is anybody’ to come. Right?”
Dash shrugged. “It certainly sounds like it.”
Ben shook his head. “And that is true as far as it goes. But they are the second—most-desired guests when I throw a party. There’s a group that I want to invite even more, though they are much harder to find.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
Dash rolled her eyes. “Do not make me guess, for I do not know. Who do you most wish to attend your parties?”
“The people who are not yet anybody, but who will definitely be, at some
future time, somebody.” A dreamy look came to his eyes. “There’s nothing quite like having a photo, fifty years down the road, showing that ‘I knew her way back when, before she was famous.’” He looked back at Dash. “Even if Ping and Jam were not already famous, if they were just your friends, they would probably be destined for great things.”
He shook his finger at her. “You lift the people around you up. You can’t help it. Mark my words. Someday Ping and Jam will be known far beyond the confines of the BrainTrust archipelago.” He paused, and a pleading note entered his voice. “Come to my party. Bring everyone you want. Please.”
Dash sighed. He was not making this easy for her. Worse, perhaps he was right. She was about to say she’d think about it when another voice came from behind her.
“Dash, he’s right. You should go,” Amanda spoke as she came down the hall from her office. She looked at Ben. “I couldn’t help hearing. Your voice carries, you know. Sort of like a moose calling.”
Ben laughed once more.
Amanda looked back at Dash. “He really will have the movers and the shakers of the world there. You need to meet them.” She paused, clearly wishing she didn’t have to continue but driven by honesty. “You’re one of them now.”
Ben interrupted, “Us, Amanda. She’s one of us now. Do not pretend you’re not one.”
“Us,” Amanda conceded. She smiled. “It’s not everyone who’s so important that the Chief Advisor of the United States tries to kidnap them.”
More laughter from Ben. “Yes, that’s an honor most of my guests haven’t yet had.” He scrunched his face in thought. “Though from what I hear, at least the governor of California would like to kidnap Matthew at this point.” He grasped the handles of his walker and twisted about. He looked over his shoulder. “Cocktail party. Ties no tails. Launch at noon, party starts at 9AM,” he offered, then scooted off with surprising speed to capture his next guest.
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