Launch on Need

by Daniel Guiteras

  “The media would have me excited and proud that NASA is saving seven astronauts today. But today’s mission isn’t something I can be proud of. Oh, I suppose it’s amazing technically, and impressive the way manpower, the human spirit, and drive was able to overcome huge hurdles and all that bull crap. But the only reason we’re doing the rescue is because we screwed up and didn’t fix the foam problem in the first place. This is not a great day in my book!”

  The team continued nodding in agreement. They felt the raw abrasion of hearing the plain truth.

  “The lighting is much tougher at night. The images aren’t as clean,” Brown said with eyes welling. He’d swapped topics without any warning; he was back on task. “Once she’s off the pad it’s almost impossible to make any reliable assessment, especially from the preliminary films. It’s anyone’s guess. We, of course, won’t be able to wait for the hi-res images to know for sure. Houston’s not gonna give us that much time. We’ll have to go with satellite images first, see what those look like. Hopefully they’ll give us all we need. If we still have questions about Atlantis’s damage status, we may have to request a wing EVA to confirm there is no damage.”

  “And if Atlantis is damaged?” Metzer asked the group. No one dared answer. “The plan is to complete the transfer of the Columbia crew to Atlantis anyway, right? Then what?” Metzer’s eyes scanned the group, but no answers came. “Atlantis won’t be able to reach the Space Station from Columbia’s orbit either.” The statement hung in the room for a few seconds. Metzer had posed a dimension of the rescue situation that no one wanted to even consider. And just in case the first part of his query hadn’t stung enough, there was part two. “And then how will they all get back home? We’ll what, launch yet another shuttle?”

  Brown heard the skepticism in Metzer’s voice but did not comment on his question. Instead, to the relief of the others in the room he changed the subject with another question. “By the way, any word on when we can expect the satellite images?”

  “I was told by Warner they could come as soon as twenty minutes after MECO. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Warner wants you to call him ASAP,” Metzer said, wondering how he could have forgotten the message. “Something about the satellite images of Atlantis being classified.”

  “What? Why would they be classified?”

  Metzer shrugged his shoulders in response.

  “The images have never been…” Brown started to say, then stopped himself. He guessed Warner had worked out something with Cheyenne Mountain. Must have pulled some strings in high places. Brown smiled and shook his head thinking about previous Department of Defense space shuttle payloads and what kind of special equipment, top-secret equipment they might have carried.

  Brown checked his watch thoughtfully, then glanced at a TV monitor that was showing CNN coverage of the launch.

  “So, like, as soon as ten minutes from now?” Brown asked, looking back at Metzer while walking out of the room.

  “Yes, could be that soon,” Metzer called out to him.

  Chapter 51

  “AND THERE WE HAVE Main Engine Cutoff or MECO as NASA refers to it. The point at which the three liquid-fueled main engines of Atlantis are turned off. And in just a few seconds now…” Stangley touched his left ear to adjust his earpiece. “Okay we’re hearing the NASA announcer calling the External Tank separation—so now Atlantis is technically in orbit, free of both SRBs—the solid rocket boosters, and the external tank.”

  The external tank fell suddenly away from Atlantis following the detonation of its attachment bolts. Initially, it seemed to hold its glide path with Atlantis like a chase plane at its flank. But it was falling back to Earth, gaining speed and heat along the way, the thickening air causing it to tumble. It continued to heat and burn and tumble, burning up completely before any part of it could make landfall.

  “Now I want to give you a visual of what NASA is planning for the rendezvous with Columbia,” Stangley said as he reached for the two orbiter models on the desk next to him.

  Holding up one orbiter model for the camera Stangley continued, “This model will represent Columbia. I have placed this red stripe on the top of this model to help you remember which orbiter is which in this little demonstration I am going to give you. Ah,” Stangley lifted the other orbiter model into view, “and this model will represent Atlantis. Note the green stripe on top. Now before Atlantis arrives at the rendezvous point with Columbia, the commander of Columbia will maneuver Columbia into this upside-down position relative to Earth. Then, Atlantis will slowly approach Columbia from below and eventually end up in this position. The two orbiter’s will be headed ninety degrees apart from each other. Columbia will be upside down, and Atlantis right side up relative to Earth. Payload bay doors will be open and facing each other. This ninety-degree offset heading will help to keep the tail sections of the orbiter’s from making contact.

  “NASA expects the entire astronaut transfer operation to last eight to nine hours, so the two orbiters will have to be flown manually the entire time. I’ve been holding these two models next to each other so you can get an idea of how they will meet in space—but keep in mind the amount of space between them will be only twenty feet—twenty feet apart for eight to nine hours!”

  Chapter 52

  Johnson Space Center, Houston

  Mission Control Center

  “THIS IS WARNER.”

  “Allan, Ken Brown returning your call.”

  “Oh Ken, yeah it’s…I’ve been meaning to call…it’s about the imaging for Atlantis. As you know, we won’t have time for hi-res film processing for this launch. We’ll need a launch-debris damage-assessment ASAP.”

  “Metzer gave me a message from you, said something about the images being classified?”

  “Right, well, here’s the deal. Let me preface what I’m about to tell you with this: I know imaging is your area of expertise and I would certainly include you and your department if it were up to me. You know I think you’re an invaluable asset to the organization. You are far more skilled at image analysis than me, but it’s one of those security clearance things. Ken, this one’s out of my hands.”

  “So I’m not going to see the images, is that it?”

  Warner was hoping to avoid any conflict with Brown on this one, hoping he would just let it go.

  “You won’t see the initial images, no,” Warner replied as directly as he could, “at least not at the resolution that they will be presented to me. I’m not completely clear on how the whole thing is going to work.”

  “So, you’re not just getting first crack at it, you might be getting the only crack at it?”

  “Possibly, yes. Let me explain. Two days ago I spoke with a Commander Scheckter at Cheyenne Mountain. You remember Scheckter from Cheyenne Mountain. He’s the guy in charge of the Space Surveillance Network.”

  “Right, I’ve met him.”

  “Okay, well the purpose of my call was to determine what level of imaging we could expect from classified national resources. Well, in typical military fashion, Scheckter first dodged the question, wondered what I meant by ‘classified resources.’ But he finally came around when I reminded him of the president’s proclamation that we as a country would pull out all the stops, do everything we could, use all our resources, to effect a safe return of Columbia’s crew.”

  “Right and high-end satellite images would qualify,” Brown insisted.

  “Exactly. So after a bit of wiggling, he told me that he could provide images of Atlantis shortly after she arrives on orbit. He made a point to tell me that he would not offer any information as to how the images were obtained. He also stressed that the images would not be made available to the media under any circumstances, and that NASA would not retain any copies of the images for its own use. The media will simply learn that Atlantis has been inspected for damage and that she is either go no-go for reentry.”

  “So what, my guys just sit around and wait?”

  “Well, here’
s what I want to do. Scheckter gave the okay for me to have you on the phone when the images are shown to me. That way, if you have specific questions for me, things you want to focus on, want me to look for, we can do it by phone while I’m looking at the images. So, as soon as they’re in front of me I’ll call you.”

  “What do you mean they’ll be ‘shown to you’?”

  “Shown to me? What do you…?”

  “You said the images would be shown to you. How?”

  “Well, my understanding is that there will be a representative from Cheyenne Mountain here to serve as a—Scheckter used the term ‘conduit’—for the images. Once the images are obtained, this person will access some secure government web site or satellite feed or some God knows what, and then he’ll show me the images of Atlantis on a laptop computer. Nothing will be printed out; the images will be confiscated as soon as I, we, determine the status of Atlantis.”

  Brown didn’t know what to say. He was caught in a tornado of thoughts. That he would not be the one to see the images of Atlantis bothered him only slightly. He knew he did not have the clearance to see the kind of images Warner was talking about. He never had. He was mostly intrigued about the idea of some secret means of obtaining images. He’d studied imaging of all types. It was his area of expertise and primary interest. He was fascinated by the idea that there existed some type of hardware that could render such images. Most satellites he had read about were in space to view Earth in various ways. He’d visited web sites that allowed the public to purchase satellite photos of essentially anywhere on Earth, detailed photos of your own backyard if you wanted them.

  But what did it mean to have a satellite in space that could view close objects such as Atlantis? Brown wondered if a satellite that could view close objects was a secret part of the Space Surveillance Network. What better way to patrol space than to have an eye that could see space objects up close. What better way to know what other countries were launching into space?

  The representative from Cheyenne Mountain entered the Mission Control Center in Houston and walked briskly toward Warner’s desk. He was tall, lean, well-decorated, and wore a high-and-tight haircut and a dress Air Force uniform.

  Warner figured this had to be the guy.

  He approached Warner’s desk and motioned for him to hang up the phone. He said nothing and offered no ID.

  “Ah Ken, ah, let me call you back,” Warner said and cradled the phone.

  “Are you Allan Warner?”

  “Yes, yes I am,” Warner said, aware of his own stumbling.

  “Lieutenant Walker, sir, United States Air Force, Space Surveillance Network Division, Cheyenne Mountain. I’m here under the direction of Commander Scheckter.”

  “Ah yes, I’m…” Warner was amazed at how Scheckter was still able to rattle him from several states away.

  “I’ve had a room secured by my MPs. It’s just down the hall if you’ll follow me.” Walker motioned that Warner should follow him. Warner did not know what to say. He was the damn Flight Director for God’s sake, seated at his post in the Mission Control Center with an orbiter in flight on NASA’s highest-profile mission ever. But he could not think of anything to say that would fit at the present moment. So he simply stood and followed Lieutenant Walker as he had been directed.

  Chapter 53

  Kennedy Space Center, Florida

  BROWN WAS STARTLED by the knock at his office door. He’d slipped off into a daydream, reeling from his conversation with Warner, thinking of all the possible ways the Air Force might be able to image the wing of Atlantis.

  “Come in,” Brown said, thinking it was a staff member with another question.

  The door opened quickly, and the uniformed man stood at the doorway, holding a black, hard-sided, oversized briefcase.

  “Ken Brown?”

  “Yes, I’m Ken Brown.”

  “Lieutenant Leborne sir, United States Air Force, Communications Specialist, Cheyenne Mountain. I’m here to provide you with communications, ah with,” Leborne looked down at a small piece of paper he was holding, “telephone communications with an Allan Warner, sir.”

  Brown smiled, mostly to himself. Ah yes, the Military, he thought.

  His thoughts were then quickly interrupted.

  “May I set this on your desk, Sir?”

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Brown said, shooting forward in his seat to help move some piles of papers, his low back aching in protest.

  Just as soon as there was room on the desk, Leborne had his briefcase open with the upper half of the case facing Brown. He unplugged Brown’s phone line and reconnected it to a module mounted inside his briefcase. Then he ran another phone line out from the module back to Brown’s phone.

  Commercial grade, or military grade, rather, Brown thought to himself. “Hardware based, one-hundred twenty-eight-bit encryption I’ll bet?”

  “Sir?”

  “Never mind. Hey, if you need to plug that thing in, I’ve…”

  “We’re self-contained sir,” Leborne said, looking up briefly from the strange communication device. “A/C power won’t be necessary. Should have your uplink in a minute, sir.”

  The module’s yellow ‘waiting for signal’ light flashed from its control panel.

  Chapter 54

  Johnson Space Center, Houston

  LIEUTENANT WALKER CONTINUED his brisk pace out of the Mission Control Center. Warner followed, walking as fast as he could without breaking into a jog. He caught glances from other controllers who wondered what this was all about.

  Warner exited the Mission Control Center and looked down the hall to the right. Lieutenant Walker was gone, but outside the small conference room was a guard. I guess we’ll meet in the small conference room then, Warner muttered under his breath. He walked to the room where the guard was standing.

  “Check your ID, sir?”

  “But I’m in Mission Control for…”

  “Just doing my job, sir,” the MP said, scrutinizing Warner’s NASA ID badge carefully. “Thank you, sir, you may proceed.”

  Warner entered the conference room and found Walker sitting at the far end of the conference table. There was another chair at Warner’s end of the table. The other six chairs had been moved against the wall to Warner’s left. Centered along the right wall was another MP, standing at attention. Walker motioned for Warner to have a seat at the conference table.

  On the table in front of Warner was a laptop computer, already on, free of any cabling, and running a screen-saver program displaying the words:

  United States Air Force

  Space Surveillance Network

  At the other end of the table, in front of Walker, sat a large hard-shell case, opened fully onto the table. There were various compartments carved out of high-density foam, like the type used in professional photography. It housed various electronic devices, the likes of which Warner had never seen before.

  The largest, most obvious piece of equipment was a three-panel antenna array with each section measuring approximately 8 by 10 inches. It fanned out at the back of the case, blocking Warner’s view of other equipment in the case. The antenna was part of some sort of satellite phone, Warner guessed. The conference phone at Walker’s end of the table had been connected to a module, same type as used on Brown’s phone. Warner’s module had a control panel with three headings marked “searching for signal,” “signal lost,” and “secure.” The light under the word “secure” was glowing red.

  Warner tried to figure out the purpose of the other equipment Walker had brought with him, but Walker interrupted his thoughts.

  “Let me explain how this is going to work,” Lieutenant Walker began, carefully choosing his words and divulging the least amount possible about the operation.

  Chapter 55

  Somewhere In Space

  THE TWO ORBITERS were now less than 20 miles apart. At an altitude of 237 miles above Earth, cSATCV604—or “Bugeye,” as the Space Control specialists at Cheyenne Mountain li
ked to refer to it—fired its thrusters briefly in response to targeting inputs it received for final course correction. The top-secret satellite was in a low Earth orbit, and over the past few days had been moved gradually over to the identical orbital path Atlantis was flying.

  Bugeye was now positioned overhead of Atlantis and her crew, pacing its target perfectly at a velocity of 17,000 miles per hour, and snapping reconnaissance photos from a distance of less than 55 miles.

  Chapter 56

  Johnson Space Center, Houston

  “THE FIRST IMAGE is downloading now, twenty percent complete,” Walker said without looking at Warner. Warner did not reply, but shifted his weight in his chair, anticipating, anxious to move the rescue mission along. He watched the laptop monitor for signs of progress.

  “Now, here’s how it’s going to work,” Walker said, repeating his previous instructions, finally looking at Warner. “The image will appear on my monitor first and then I will send it to your laptop. I’m not certain of the number of images we will receive in total, but I expect we’ll have over fifty in a matter of minutes. The images will appear first as thumbnails at the bottom of your screen. You may expand or reduce each image using the laptop’s track pad. Do you have any questions?”

  Warner shook his head no.

  “You can pick up your phone handset now and talk to Mr. Brown. Your line is secure,” Walker said.

  Warner grabbed the handset and said hello to confirm the connection. As he did, he thought he saw Lieutenant Walker place an earpiece in each ear. He immediately surmised that each earpiece was connected to a different audio source. And he was right. Walker’s left ear was being fed an audio feed from his team at Cheyenne Mountain, the Space Control specialists who were running the imaging operation of Atlantis. In his right ear, Walker listened to Brown and Warner as their conversation emerged from the digital voice recorder device located inside his case.