Stephen Coonts - Combat

Almost without thinking, McConnell asked, “It wasn’t medical?” His tone was incredulous.

“No,” replied Barnes with a little irritation. “People do leave the program voluntarily. Proficiency time on T-38s is not the same as helping run a squadron or flying a fighter.”

It was clear Barnes didn’t think of his time as an astronaut fondly. And he was not happy with his assignment here. He liked to fly.

Ray offered, “I’m sorry I disrupted your tour, but I need pilots to help build Defender . In addition to all your other skills, you’re a reality check on what’s going on around here.”

Barnes smiled, the first time Ray had seen the pilot pleased. “I think you’ll need a bigger dose of reality than I can provide.”

McConnell automatically smiled back. “Look, I’m sorry I upstaged you at that meeting. We had no idea the Air Force was going to back Defender. ”

“Yeah. I was the guy who suggested it to the brass.” Biff looked like he was regretting the idea.

“And thanks for that support. I’m sorry I can’t promise to make it up to you.”

“Stop apologizing,” Biff ordered. “I’m here, and I’ll help you build her.”

Ray nodded silently. It wasn’t a ringing commitment, but he felt the air was clear.

Biff looked around, making sure there were no eavesdroppers, then turned on his data pad and passed it to McConnell. “Here’s the review of those classified programs you asked for. It took me most of the night, but it was so interesting I didn’t want to stop.”

McConnell took the pad, handling it carefully. As he studied the long list, his eyes widened. “I had no idea …”

“Neither did I. After this is all over, we’ll both have to burn our brains. The point is, there are some programs here that we might be able to use. I need a secure facility to work in, to store stuff.”

Ray grimaced. “The engineers are working on beefing up the handling crane. Without that, we can’t lift the VentureStar off her carrier. And after that they have to start work on the pad.”

“Can we get more engineers?”

McConnell shook his head. “Not quickly. We’re already using all the ones available on the West Coast. We’ll have more in a week.” He paused, considering. “Where are the programs you’re interested in located?”

Biff saw where he was going. “They’re spread all over the map, but they all have offices in D.C.” He paused. “I leave right away, right?”

“You can take the C-20,” Ray told him. “Hell, you can fly the C-20. We’ll have something with metal walls set up by the time you get back.”

Barnes face suddenly brightened. “Ray, the C-20 has metal walls.”

McConnell smiled, nodding. “We’ll need to post a guard, but Marines like guarding things. It lets them carry guns. Go get it set up.”

Biff nodded and left quickly, almost running. Someone else was waiting.

They’d scheduled the arrival carefully. You couldn’t count on overcast, especially in the California desert, so they’d chosen a satellite-free window after dark.

They all got up early to see it. Ray, standing by the end of the runway with a cup of coffee, saw them start to stream out of the buildings, walking slowly over to the tarmac. The handling crews were ready, and General Norman had arranged for a “nighttime base security exercise” that filled the area with patrols. The base fire department had also sent their equipment. Ray approved, but the thought made a small knot in his stomach.

Ray waited, impatient. They’d heard nothing, so everything should be fine. But nothing would be fine, not until it was all over.

Admiral Schultz walked up with a civilian in tow. “Ray, meet Mr. Geoffrey Lewis, our new morale officer.” Seeing McConnell’s distracted look, he reminded Ray, “Your idea? The concierge?”

Suddenly remembering, Ray shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Welcome to the Space Force, Mr. Lewis.” Lewis was a sandy-haired man, in his mid-thirties. Large glasses on his round face made his head seem large for the rest of his spare frame. While most of the civilians wore jeans and polo shirts, Lewis was dressed in khakis and a sport coat.

“Thank you, Mr. McConnell. The admiral’s explained what you want done. I’m to take care of the people here. Run their errands, reduce their distractions. I’ve never had to sign a security form to be a concierge before.”

McConnell grinned. “And you’ve never had Army quartermasters as your staff. But these people have all had their lives and jobs interrupted to work here. Do as much as you can to take care of their personal needs.”

Lewis smiled. “I’ve already got a few ideas.”

“Here she comes,” said Schultz softly.

Ray turned as Schultz spoke, his attention drawn by the plane’s landing lights as they came alive. The 747’s white underside reflected the lights, but everything above the wing was in shadow.

Instinctively, Ray stepped back, awed by the size of the four-engined monster. It looked a lot bigger from the ground than it did from an airport jetway. The noise of the jet engines also grew until it was almost unbearable.

Ray began to fear that some terrible mistake had been made, that the jet had come in alone, but as it descended, the light finally caught the broad white wedge on top of the 747’s fuselage.

The VentureStar was just half the length of the jumbo jet, and as wide as it was long. A smooth, blended shape, two short wings jutted out from the back, angling up and back. He knew it was huge, but it looked so fragile perched on top of the big jet.

He was suddenly afraid, and his insides tightened as he watched the plane come down and touch the runway. The engines crescendoed and the noise washed over him as the pilot cut in the thrust reversers. He could smell jet exhaust and burnt rubber as the plane’s wake shook his clothing. He didn’t relax until the plane came to a stop, then turned to taxi over to the hangar.

VentureStar was the prototype for a fleet of commercial single-stage-to-orbit space vehicles. In development since the early 1990s, an experimental small-scale version, the X-33, had successfully completed testing just after the turn of the century.

Like the space shuttle, VentureStar carried its payload in a big cargo bay, fifteen feet wide by fifty feet long. It used the same fuel, as well, liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen. But the shuttle took months to prepare for a launch, and used expendable boosters that had to be reconditioned after each launch. VentureStar launched using her own aerospike engines, and landed conventionally like the shuttle. She could take fifty tons to low-earth orbit after two weeks’ preparation.

The engineers were already preparing to lift VentureStar off the carrier aircraft. They had barely enough time before the satellite window closed. Teams also stood by to unload the 747, which carried instruments and spare parts. Some of them had strange looks on their faces, and Ray made a note on his pad to check with the security director. There was …

“Thanks for the flowers, Ray.” A voice startled him, breaking his concentration. He turned to see Jenny smiling at him. She explained, “I came out to watch the landing and saw you over here.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied automatically. Gathering his wits, he asked, “Are you okay with your job?”

“Setting up communications for an entire space program?” She laughed. “I could have waited ten years for that big a job, if I ever got it at all.” She knew what he wanted to ask, and told him before he could. “I can do it. I’ve had to expand my consciousness a little, but I’ll get it done.”