A Sword Into Darkness (14 page)

“All the same, he bugs me.  He shouldn’t even be involved in the launch.  I could have hired my own range safety observers.  I didn’t need Sykes assigning a naval escort.  The government insists on keeping me at arm’s length like some shamed mistress, and then they pull this!”

Nathan smiled.  “You should look at this as a gift.  Now you don’t have to pay for it, you’re assured of having a professional job, and no one keeps a secret worse than a sailor.  Instead of having only a few tracking stations aware of this, now you’ll have 200 blue-shirts bragging about it in the next port they hit.”  He motioned a rocket blasting off with his hands.  “‘There I wuz, watchin dis rocket shoot up inta space.  Lemme tell youse all abouts it!’”

Gordon grinned.  “The ranks of my faithful grow:  first it was just a few UFO freaks, and conspiracy bloggers, but now I have the junior enlisted of the
USS McInnerney
.  I have truly arrived.”

Nathan walked over to the flatscreen with the radar of the encroaching storm.  “This probe is supposed to travel at a significant fraction of the speed of light.  Are we really worried about a little wind and rain?”

“Space is an empty vacuum, while the atmosphere is decidedly not, but it’s not those that bother me.”  Gordon walked over to the flatscreen with the video of the probe and sea-launch platform itself.  He jabbed a finger at the dark shape of the probe.  “This carries an experimental nuclear reactor and the most powerful motor ever designed.  Do you really want to see what happens when it’s struck by lightning?”

Nathan opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Kristene sweeping into the room.  “That would be a ‘No’, boys.  Not after seeing what was
not
left of the test pad after our first full-scale drive went out of control.  I think we might get in trouble if we nuked a hole in the ocean.”  She smiled at them and then rushed over to the VTC screen, reaching out to touch one of the pictures.  “Dr. Hastings, how are we doing?”

Hastings, a bald man with a weathered, pockmarked face, looked up from whatever he had been doing and into the camera.  An identifier below his image listed him as being aboard the Launch Direction Ship, a recently acquired container vessel by the name of
Morningstar
, which operated in company with the
McInnerney
, a mere fifty nautical miles from the probe’s launch platform.  “Hi, Kristene.  We’re a bit frantic over here, but we’re coping.  As far as the probe is concerned, it could launch now or when it was supposed to, five hours from now.  I’ve updated the timeline and initial launch vector on the computer and it’s conducting the pre-flight.  No problems thus far.”

Kris smiled.  “Computer” was such an understatement that the word almost no longer applied.  Situated somewhere in the technological stratosphere between the fuzzy logic expert systems that managed the nation’s air and ground traffic and the dream of true artificial intelligence, the system aboard their probe was the current pinnacle of computing capability.  Comprised of eight different massively paralleled processors, each of which utilized both linear digital and nonlinear quantum elements, as well as 100 terabytes of flash memory with optical storage backup, the system was expected to accomplish the nigh impossible task of operating and piloting the probe across light-years of space, locating and rendezvousing with an alien vessel for first contact, and then reporting back to Earth.

“Computer” was practically an insult.

“Sounds good, Doc,” Kris said.  “Go ahead and begin the power ramp once the pre-flight finishes running.  We’ll launch from here when you give us the go-ahead.”

“All right, we’ll contact you then. 
Morningstar
, over and out!”  Hastings grinned with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Nathan winced.  Hastings knew that sloppy comms procedures were his pet peeve.  Anyone with any time among radio circuits knew it was either “over” or “out”, but never both together.  Kris looked back at him and grinned.  They all loved tweaking his somewhat rigid professional sensibilities.

Out in the vast Pacific, practically lost among the rising waves surrounding it, the launch platform was a lonely island of stability amid the chaos of the seas.  Nestled at the bottom of a gantry rising a hundred feet from the surface of the ocean, the probe squatted with burgeoning power.  It had a purposeful, enigmatic appearance, singular in design, unlike any other rocket ever launched.

The top of the probe was covered with a white aeroshell covering the instrumentation and antennae underneath, which would be jettisoned immediately after leaving the atmosphere.  It was also the sole linking factor to any previous design.  After that, the probe’s shape was designed solely around the needs of its mission.

Beneath the aeroshell, the probe was a slender, flat black spire, the top half bristling with sensors, cameras, and dishes.  The middle length of the elongated body was given over to reactor cooling, a nest of radiator fins sticking out perpendicular to the fuselage like the petals of some midnight black bloom.  The bottom half was a tapering, stepped pyramid shape, the inverse of the usual flared venturi common to all previous rockets.  It was different but reminiscent of Kristene’s disastrous first design of the photon drive, improved by a greater understanding of the force she had unwittingly unleashed.

Hidden at the center of the probe, surrounded by the radiator fins, the pebble bed reactor came to life.  Neutron baffles withdrew, allowing thousands of tennis-ball sized “pebbles” to mix for the first time.  The spherical pebbles were each tiny fission reactors in their own right.  Tens of thousands of encapsulated pellets of enriched uranium were sandwiched within a silicon carbide matrix and then wrapped up in a thick graphite shell.  The shell moderated the fast neutrons from spontaneous fissions and allowed them to drift back among the pellets, increasing the probability of absorption in the uranium and the chance of an induced fission reaction.  Group enough of the pebbles together, and the whole assembly became supercritical, raising the rate of fission and the reactor temperature until the graphite expanded and the process became self-limiting.  It had a high operating temperature and efficiency, but a meltdown was virtually impossible, making the pebble bed perfect for their use:  safe, simple, and powerful enough to reach the stars.

High pressure helium was forced into the reactor, flowing between the channels naturally formed by the bed of spherical pebbles.  The helium carried away the heat of fission to the thermogenerators surrounding the core.  Electricity began to flow and the radiator fins grew white hot.

Hastings spoke from the VTC screen.  “Control, this is
Morningstar
.  The probe is on internal power with pre-flight complete and satisfactory, no discrepancies.  Ummm.  That’s it, I guess.  We’re ready to launch.  Who’s pushing the button?”

Kris turned to look at Nathan, and then she and he both turned to stare with intent at Lee.  Gordon looked from one to the other and back until he shrugged.  “Okay, if you insist.  I’ll push it.”

Nathan grunted.  “Right, as if one of us trying to push it wouldn’t be the quickest way to the unemployment line.”

Gordon grinned and approached the completely unnecessary Big Red Button he had installed just for this moment.  He lifted the button’s cover and cleared his throat.  “This is our greatest moment.  With this simple act, we answer the promise of generations that have come before us, and we make a promise to the generations that follow.  Mankind has always reached for the outermost fringes, the distant horizon, and the furthest frontiers.  With the launch of this probe, we expand the sphere of our influence upon the universe and reach out to neighbors unknown.  We hereby swear an oath to the future that we shall continue our intrepid journey, no matter the obstacles we face, and we shall reach out to embrace whatever fate holds with courage, honor, and ever increasing wonder.”

Kris stifled a laugh.  “My, my, that sounded completely spontaneous.”

Nathan nodded.  “Very humble, boss.”

“Posterity is lost on you jerks.”  Gordon stabbed down on the button.  “Fare well,
Promise
.”

The button sent a signal to the distant
Morningstar
, which in turn sent a complex activation code to the probe.  Valves shifted within the reactor and superheated helium was forced into the inlet of the photon drive.  The primed fields stopped the gas cold, instantly converting its internal energy into linear kinetic energy.  High-energy photon thrust streamed out of the terraced steps of the drive pyramid, blasting down into the surface of the Pacific.

Clouds of steam and superheated air exploded out from the launch platform, expanding outward in a supersonic wavefront.  The sea within the ring was flattened to a glassy surface, and a hollowed out cone of steam and light formed beneath the rig.  The
Promise
hesitated for the briefest of moments and then crawled higher and higher up the gantry, building speed, power, and acceleration.  As it reached the top of the launch platform, it finally began moving at a respectable rate as it clawed its way free of the Earth.  The cone of steam collapsed in upon itself, no longer able to deny the pressure of the surrounding ocean, sending a solid plug of water up toward the rig.  And as the probe cleared the gantry, its thrust inundated the platform, burning it away even as the sea hammered it from below.

The probe rocketed up, its star ascending toward the dome of the heavens, cast out from the planet of its birth, never to return.  Waves of white noise followed in its wake, the air screaming in tortured frustration as the
Promise
escaped the pervasive clutch of gravity.  The star climbed higher and higher, but unlike most rockets, it never tipped over to apply its awesome thrust to achieving orbit.  Its destination was far beyond anything so mundane as circling the planet.  The endpoint of its journey lay at the near edge of infinity.

Three minutes after Lee pushed the button, the probe left behind the nominal outer reaches of the atmosphere.  The aeroshell blasted away from the main body, discarded by the
Promise’s
still accelerating form.  Reveling in the vacuum and darkness of space, the probe performed a slow loop about its outbound vector, testing its maneuverability.  Satisfied by its performance, it deployed its main dish and sent a brief message back to Earth.

Hastings and Captain Geary each yelled excitedly from the launch-tossed decks of their respective ships.  Hastings turned to the VTC camera to engage the beaming, awestruck faces of Kris, Nathan, and Gordon Lee back in California.  Continuous thunder rolled in the background.  “It’s gone!  It was here and now it’s gone!  The whole launch platform is sinking and the probe is already out of the atmosphere.  You should have felt the blast!  It made the shuttle feel like a Roman candle!”

Geary cut in.  “Congratulations, Mr. Lee.  It was quite a thing to see.  We’re collecting tracking data now, but it’s almost outside even our expanded radar range.”

Kristene’s smiled so widely, it must have hurt her face.  “Gordon, we’re getting a transmission from the
Promise
.  Comms, sensor telemetry, power, and maneuvering all test perfect.  A flawless launch and a perfect probe—we couldn’t have made it go better if we had planned it that way!”

Nathan laughed.  “What are you talking about?  That’s exactly how we planned it!”

Gordon shook his head, his own grin faltering slightly.  “Yeah, but we also had backups for the backups on our backups, and not one of them was tripped.  It’s stupid NASA superstition, but you always expect
something
to go wrong.  And we’ve had our fair share of failures before this.  But, a perfect launch might just mean something is destined to go wrong later when the mission is beyond your reach.”  He paused, doubt changing the character of his subdued smile.  “And that begs all sorts of uncomfortable questions.  Like, what if this is the wrong move after all, and the aliens would have been friendly had we just left them alone and not investigated them?  We’re committed now, we’ve played our first hand in the big game, but what if our glitch is the mission itself?”

“Dun, dun, duuunnnn!” Kris intoned.  “Cue the ominous music.  Bring on the grim sense of foreboding.  Come on, Gordon!  Forget the doom and gloom and let’s celebrate!  We just launched an interstellar probe, for God’s sake.  We’ve made the first step in solving the mystery of the Deltans and we did it when the whole damn world figured we were a bunch of freakin’ crazies.  It’s champagne time!”  She reached out and hugged both Gordon and Nathan together, then turned and trotted off back to the kitchen.

Nathan patted Lee on the back.  “Good work, boss.”

“No, no, good work to you, Nathan.  None of this would have been possible without the two of you and all you’ve done.”  Gordon walked past Nathan, looking back at the screens.  The one showing the storm front now showed a cataract of disrupted air impinging on the smooth curl of the cloud mass.  The other screen, upon which had been the aerial view of the launch platform, now showed a graphic of the projected course of the probe out of the Solar System and on through the emptiness of space, all the way to their rendezvous with the unknown, years and light-years distant.  “So much that we’ve done, so much that we still have to do, and no telling if any of it’s going to do any good.”

“What next?” Nathan said, at his side.

“We finish the second probe.  Then we lay the keel of our ship, yesterday, and we answer all those questions that we’ve been putting off.”

Nathan smiled.  “Like how the hell to build a manned space combatant
slash
ambassador ship?”

Gordon laughed.  “Yeah, like that.”

Kris reentered with the ringing of champagne flutes, a magnum clutched under one arm.  “Well, all that crap can wait until tomorrow.  Right now y’all are having a drink with me.”  She handed each of the men a glass, and then passed hers to Nathan as well.  With a twist, she popped the mushroomed cork from the bottle without launching it or spilling a drop.  She poured a respectable amount in two of them, while carefully filling one to the top.  After setting aside the magnum, she claimed one of the regular glasses, leaving Nathan with the brimming one.  She dimpled.  “Cheers!”