by Tori Harris
"Just another day at the office, Blake. What was it the captain said yesterday? ‘Wiggle your fingers and toes,’ I think it was."
Fisher laughed. "I actually heard that one in flight school myself a few times. I can’t say it helped me much, but it’s definitely a good idea to ‘recenter’ and force yourself to relax every once in a while. You can get pretty tensed up otherwise."
"Alright, folks, everyone awake and ready to land this thing and go have a drink?" Prescott announced, entering the bridge from his ready room. "Ensign Fisher, I’ve got some good news and some very good news for you," he said, smiling broadly.
Fisher turned in his seat to face his captain. "I’m afraid to ask, sir, but let’s hear the very good news first."
Prescott laughed. "I’m afraid that wouldn’t make as much sense, so you’ll have to hear them in order. The good news is that Fleet just augmented our auto landing capability to allow for the final approach inside the Yucca Shipyard to be fully automated. We’ll just need to closely monitor what the ship is doing and be ready to take over manually, if necessary. I’m told that this software has already been extensively tested, so hopefully we’ll have a nice, quiet ride. I’m choosing to take the optimistic view that Fleet wouldn’t be asking us to use this new capability if they thought it might ding their shiny new ship."
"Wow, sir, I would hope not. That still makes me a little nervous though. I wonder how they managed to ‘test’ the software, seeing as how Ingenuity herself is the only real-world testbed?"
"Yeah," Prescott paused, considering. "I think I’ll defer that question until we are safely on the deck, but I will say that I suspect we may all be in for some surprises this afternoon."
"Fair enough, sir. What’s the very good news?"
"The very good news is that Fleet’s fancy new landing automation software can actually handle the entire approach and landing sequence, including the deorbit burn. I convinced Admiral Patterson, however, that Ingenuity has the best starship helmsman in the galaxy, so we prefer to handle the deorbit and initial approach ourselves. Did I get that about right, Fisher?"
"Hell yes, Captain!"
"I thought so. Besides, you’ll probably end up needing to train other helmsmen in starship landing operations at some point, so it might be helpful if you’ve actually done it a time or two yourself," Prescott said, heading for his command chair.
"Captain," Lieutenant Dubashi reported from the Communications console, "we have received the coordinates and final instructions for our landing site."
"Navigation and Helm have it as well, Captain," Lieutenant Lau confirmed.
"Well that’s good news," Prescott said, fastening his shoulder straps to ensure he remained securely in his command chair during the landing. "I was beginning to think they were expecting us to guess." Prescott always found that offering a little humor during tense situations, even the weak attempts he typically proffered, did wonders to lessen the tension and improve performance. This always seemed particularly true of junior officers and enlisted crewmembers, who sometimes struggled with their confidence level due to a simple lack of experience.
"Do we have a clear view of the site, Dubashi?" Reynolds asked.
"I believe we do, Commander. It’s a desert region not too far from Death Valley, so cloud cover is not usually a problem. It should be coming over the horizon now."
"Great, let’s see where we’re going."
Lieutenant Dubashi issued a series of commands at the Communications console, causing the usual pulsating green oval designator to appear on the bridge view screen superimposed over the landing site on the Earth’s surface below. After a brief pause, the oval pulsed red three times before zooming the image to the location of the Yucca Mountain shipyard. The area was displayed in stunning detail, with Ingenuity’s various sensors working together to provide a real-time view of the facility as if the ship was circling it at low altitude. In spite of Lieutenant Dubashi’s forecast, there actually were quite a few puffy cumulus clouds in the area, but these were quickly removed by the ship’s AI to provide a completely unobscured view of the facility.
"Well, that looks like a mountain, alright," Reynolds said, deadpan.
"It does indeed," Prescott replied. "I think that’s the general idea. If there are any bad guys looking down on the site, they won’t see a shipyard either. Lieutenant Dubashi, just in case we have a problem, please see if you can identify some alternate landing sites in the general area."
"Aye, sir, there are plenty of old construction sites with large, concrete surfaces. There are also exposed areas of bedrock that should support our weight, so a ground landing appears to be an option, if necessary."
"That’s good to hear, just be careful not to allow the AI to choose a spot inside the Nevada Nuclear Test Site a few miles to the east. I’m pretty sure that’s not a good place to set down."
"Commander Logan, bridge," Prescott announced. The ship’s communication AI instantly recognized the captain’s desire to communicate with the chief engineer and routed the call accordingly.
"Logan here. Go ahead, Captain."
"We’re ready for deorbit up here, Commander. What’s your status?" Prescott’s call to Engineering was done more out of habit and courtesy than necessity. If his chief engineer had not been prepared for landing, at least seven separate displays on the bridge would have clearly indicated that fact.
"Everything looks good down here for the moment, Captain. I’d say let’s get this over with before something decides to break."
"Very well, please let us know if anything does. Prescott out."
"All hands, this is the captain. Prepare for deorbit burn and landing. Be advised that our landing site is highly classified. Once we have secured the ship, all of us will be receiving the required security briefings. Until you have been briefed and officially cleared, you may not leave the ship. We will begin the landing sequence shortly."
Prescott paused and looked around the bridge. "OK, rather than ask if everyone is ready, let me give each of you one last opportunity to voice any concerns. Is anyone not ready to start the sequence?" he asked. Hearing no objections, he proceeded. "Alright, here we go, folks. XO, set General Quarters for landing. Lieutenant Dubashi, are we cleared for landing at Yucca?"
"We are cleared for approach and landing, sir. For precise arrival timing, optimal deorbit burn should begin in four zero seconds," she replied over the sound of the ship’s AI announcing General Quarters for landing. As the announcement concluded, the lighting on the bridge took on a blue color, providing a visual indication of the imminent landing.
"Very well. Navigation?"
"Course plotted and transferred to the Helm console, Captain. The ship is oriented for the deorbit burn. Standing by for autolanding cues from Yucca Mountain."
Even though Ingenuity’s sublight engines were internal, they were still oriented to provide considerably more thrust in the direction of the bow than the stern, so the ship executed its deorbit "burn" with its stern in the direction of flight.
"Alright, Ensign Fisher, it’s your show at this point. Execute the deorbit sequence per Lieutenant Dubashi’s countdown."
"Aye, sir, initiating in five, four, three, two, one, mark."
Ingenuity’s inertial dampening and acoustical conditioning systems reacted within microseconds to counteract the might of her massive sublight engines engaging and rapidly increasing to maximum power. On the bridge, the only indication of the tremendous thrust being unleashed in Engineering was a barely perceptible shudder, followed by a slight increase in the ever-present rumbling sound created by various power and propulsion systems aboard.
From the time of man’s earliest spaceflights in the mid-twentieth century, atmospheric reentry had been a risky proposition. Just as launching a spacecraft from the surface of the Earth required massive increases in specific energy, traditionally accomplished by huge rocket engines burning vast quantities of fuel, landing required a similar decrease in energy. Various p
ractical design considerations forced early spacecraft to use most of their fuel during their ascent to orbit. When it was time to return to the surface, there was only enough fuel remaining for a short duration burn, designed to begin the process of slowing the craft down enough to begin interacting with the upper atmosphere. From there, most ships relied on atmospheric friction and compressive shock wave heating rather than engine thrust to bleed away energy and slow to a manageable speed for landing. This process was typically accomplished using various types of thermal shielding designed to withstand temperatures in excess of three thousand degrees Celsius. The brave crew of these fragile spacecraft experienced high G loads for extended periods of time during reentry since the deceleration process often took half an orbit or more to complete.
Fortunately for Ingenuity’s crew, much had changed in the three-hundred-year history of manned spaceflight, especially since the introduction of ETSI-inspired propulsion technology. The ship’s massive sublight engines required no propellant, so there was no longer any reason to waste massive amounts of interior space and thrust simply storing and moving the ship’s fuel supply through space. Instead, the engines relied on the direct conversion of electrical power from her antimatter reactors to produce huge amounts of microwave energy. The energy was introduced into closed, cone-shaped reaction chambers where it was reflected internally, producing thrust in the direction of the wider end of the chamber. The Cannae engines were not only "reactionless," (requiring no reaction mass/propellant), but also contained no moving parts whatsoever. Perhaps the most fascinating impact of this technology on ship design was the absence of external engine nozzles or other propulsion-related equipment of any kind. Ingenuity’s engines, like her bridge and antimatter reactors, were buried deep inside her armored hull. This allowed the valuable real estate near the ship’s stern to be used as a flight deck and, potentially, for weapons emplacements. Gratifyingly, the elegant design was originally of Human origin, even though some of the improvements allowing the engines to reach their current capabilities were derived from Pelaran technology.
"Sir, we will be maintaining our current horizontal position relative to the landing site for the remainder of our reentry. The engines have throttled back to twenty percent to hold this approach curve. Altitude now one hundred kilometers and decreasing. Initial atmospheric entry interface in three zero seconds," Fisher announced. The earlier signs of nervous anticipation had completely vanished from his voice. Now very much in his element, he actually enjoyed being the center of attention. "There’s quite a bit of atmospheric convection, so I would anticipate a little chop. It shouldn’t be anything major, though."
"Understood, Ensign. Steady as she goes," Prescott replied. He paused for a few seconds, then leaned over to his XO without taking his eyes off the view screen and said in a low voice that only she could hear, "Dear God, did I just say, ‘Steady as she goes?’"
"I believe you did, sir, but I’ll be sure to review the audio log to make sure. I’ll send a copy to your tablet later."
"Sheesh. I don’t know what to tell you about that, other than I’ve read too much classic naval fiction and I’m getting old. If I start saying ‘avast there,’ or start referring to all of you as ‘lads,’ I guess you’ll have to relieve me of command."
The ship gave a lurch to starboard, followed by what felt like a precipitous drop in altitude, causing everyone onboard to briefly experience the feeling of free falling before the ship’s gravitic systems compensated. As is often the case when Humans unexpectedly experience negative Gs, several crewmembers let fly an entirely involuntary exclamation. This illustrious group included Lieutenant Dubashi at the Communications console, who uttered a particularly colorful expletive in her native Hindi. She turned to face her captain and XO, blushing in spite of her dark complexion, and mouthed "I’m sorry!" before quickly returning her attention back to her screen.
"That bounce was entry interface, sir. Like I said, we’ve got some pretty significant thermal activity taking place over this area," Ensign Fisher said. "The worst should be over in a couple of minutes."
"Don’t worry about us, Fisher, we’ll be fine. Right, Dubashi?"
"Doing great, sir!" Lieutenant Dubashi laughed, this time avoiding eye contact.
"Lieutenant Commander Schmidt, can you tighten up the grav system a bit in case we see more disturbances like that last one? It’s entirely possible that somebody somewhere isn’t strapped in properly and we don’t want anyone getting hurt."
"Already done, sir," Schmidt replied. "With the sensitivity dialed up, it may feel a little oppressive for the next couple of minutes, but we shouldn’t experience any more thrill rides."
"Thank you, Schmidt."
"Captain," Lieutenant Dubashi announced, "we have received course guidance for our final approach to the Yucca Mountain Shipyard. The approach and landing will require your approval before we can relinquish control to the AI."
As was the case with all time-critical information, the data was immediately displayed in a window on the right side of the bridge view screen in addition to the small touchscreen attached to Prescott’s command chair. As he had expected, the proposed approach course was a bit circuitous, and clearly designed to conceal their ultimate landing destination inasmuch as such a thing was possible in broad daylight. They would make their initial approach over the area from the south, and would be visible from the ground over a large, fairly populated area, including the city of Las Vegas. After that, however, they would head in the direction of the Groom Lake facility, still known the world over as "Area 51." There, they would complete the remainder of their descent over the dry lakebed before heading back towards Yucca Mountain at a much lower altitude designed to mask their final approach for landing.
Prescott smiled at the historical irony. To this day, if you asked anyone in the world to speculate on where Fleet would be landing Ingenuity on a regular basis, they would most likely come up with Area 51 as a likely candidate. In reality, however, the secrets housed at the Groom Lake facility paled in comparison to Terran Fleet Command’s Yucca Mountain Shipyard, a scant sixty-eight kilometers to its southwest.
"Course acknowledged and approved for a manual approach. I will approve autolanding after we arrive at the final approach fix. Ensign Fisher, the approach profile has been updated and transferred to your console. Fleet is calling for a medium altitude flyover from the south towards Groom Lake, followed by a circling descent and low altitude final approach. I know you’ve handled terrain masking flight a hundred times in the sim, but if you start to feel overwhelmed or unsure of yourself, I want you to allow the AI to complete the approach. Don’t break our ship, Fisher. Any questions?"
"No questions, Captain. I’d be the first one to speak up if I saw a problem, sir. This route looks pretty straightforward and, frankly, isn’t even much of a challenge for this ship. She flies a lot more like a fighter than a frigate, sir," Ensign Fisher responded confidently.
In reality, there was little danger that a hotshot young ensign at the Helm could make a mistake that would result in ship damage. Even though Fisher was still "manually" controlling the ship from the Helm console, Ingenuity’s AI monitored every aspect of her position, speed, surrounding environment, and control inputs hundreds of millions of times per second. The AI was designed to follow the crew’s commands, but its first priority was their survival, followed closely by the survival of the ship itself. In an emergency, Ingenuity’s AI had full authority to take whatever action it deemed necessary to protect both its crew and itself.
"So it looks like they want people on the ground to see us, but still hopefully not realize exactly where we are going," Commander Reynolds said, more as a question than a statement of fact.
"I think it’s all about timing," Prescott replied. We did our initial climb to orbit at night because we really didn’t want to advertise exactly what we were doing and when. This time, I think they just wanted us on the ground as quickly as possible and consequences be d
amned. Besides, it seems like Fleet is going out of their way to ensure that Ingenuity remains the public face of the program for now."
"I suppose so. It just strikes me that taking the scenic route on our approach isn’t likely to keep our destination much of a secret. We are a pretty good-sized ship, after all."
"Altitude now eight kilometers and decreasing, on course for Area 51, sir," Fisher reported from the Helm console.
***
The Area 51 Travel Center near the center of the Amargosa Valley had operated as a dusty tourist stop on Highway 95 for over three centuries under various owners and with varying degrees of success. Since Humans had finally received irrefutable confirmation that they were not alone in the cosmos fifty years earlier, however, public curiosity regarding the various ultra-secretive U.S. government sites in the area had been rekindled. Now that it was widely believed that Pelaran-related technology was being developed and tested in the region, the lonely desert highways crisscrossing the region had once again become a mecca for a wide cross-section of visitors spanning the spectrum from family vacationers, to fringe conspiracy theorists, to rabid science fiction fans.
As has often been the case with government-related installations in the region, the facts were actually more bizarre and intriguing than the rumors surrounding them. To this day, for example, it was true that the U.S. government still operated the Groom Lake facility known as Area 51 only eighty-five kilometers to the northeast of the Travel Center. It was also true that the facility housed the wreckage of a spacecraft that had crashed near Roswell, New Mexico, in 1947. The truth of why this had occurred, however, was still the subject of wild speculation for both tourists and government officials alike. Ironically, the government officials hiding the alien spacecraft from its citizens knew little more than they did on the subject. Over the years, there had been a great many hypotheses put forth to explain the crash, particularly why the aliens had apparently not returned and why their spacecraft appeared to have been damaged by a type of weapon unknown to Human science. None, however, even after receiving fifty years of ETSI data from the Pelarans, had managed to piece together the whole story.