William Forstchen: Article 23

High-stress plexishield domed the top of the car, giving a full view in all directions and straight up. You could see the gleaming white pillar of the Skyhook tower rising into space above them.

"Here comes a car heading down," Matt said, and pointed.

It took Justin several seconds to pick it out, a small white cylinder which quickly started to grow in size. For a brief instant Justin felt a moment of panic since it looked like the car was on their track and coming straight in for a head on collision. The car snapped past them on a parallel track and disappeared.

The three settled into lounge chairs in the middle of the room to watch the show as every minute a downward-bound car shot past on the passenger track to their right. Every few minutes a heavy cargo pod whisked by on their left, loaded with several hundred tons of manufactured goods from space. Justin watched the pods go by, realizing just how those manufactured items from space were now so important back on Earth. The cars were loaded with high-grade plastisteel, a hundred times stronger than the old fashioned steel made on Earth, as well as drugs, ball bearings, computer chips, quartz holo cubes, and even the latest rages in the art world, sand cast sculptures from Mars and paintings from the Aquarius Three orbital colony, which was made up almost entirely of artists.

Some of tile stuff those artists were putting out was beyond Justin's comprehension, but the galleries in New York, London, Moscow and Paris were all paying top dollar for it. Small communal colonies were setting up in space every month as groups of people, united by a wide variety of special interests, banded together, had a small orbital home built, and moved from Earth. There were art colonies, religious communities and monasteries, some rather weird cults and even one strange group who pretended they were characters from a popular old television and movie series from the late 20th century.

A lot of older people were retiring to space as well, especially those with disabilities that would have slowed them down on Earth. At some of the colonies many people, born all the way back in the middle of the 20th century, were still going strong and having the time of their lives freed from the bonds of Earths gravity, aided by the new longevity drugs manufactured in space.

"Here comes the five hundred kilometer station," Brian said. "We'd better get our seatbelts back on." Even as he spoke, the computer requested that all passengers return to their seats and buckle up.

The station looked like a huge donut, over one-third of a kilometer across and set like a ring around the tower. Justin gulped hard as the car started a rapid deceleration down to just thirty kilometers per hour.

As the speed dropped off Justin found that it was far easier to pick out details of the tower. The sides were coated with heavy plastisteel shielding. When the tower was built, tens of thousands of objects were still in low Earth orbit, most of it junk going back to the early days of space exploration. A lot of it had been swept up, but there were still occasional stray bits of material, bolts, parts of booster rockets, and supposedly even a camera and glove lost by an early American astronaut drifting around. Without the shielding, an impact could do some serious damage.

Those satellites still in low Earth orbit were carefully routed around the tower, but it was better to be safe than lose a trillion-dollar investment. A battery of laser cannons had recently been installed at the station with the explanation that they could destroy any junk or small meteors that might threaten the tower. Another reason that no one talked about was fear that Trac raiders might show up again as they had seven years ago. Rather than destroy a colony or two, they might go for the tower and cripple the entire space program of Earth.

The five hundred-kilometer station was the offloading point for crews working in low Earth orbit, and it was also a major tourist attraction. As they shifted over to the express track that cut straight through the station Justin caught a glimpse of dozens of tourists out in the vacuum of open space, standing along the railing and leaning over for a look straight back down to Earth.

"Better not slip," Brian observed with a chuckle. "It's a long way down."

"Hey, I heard that somebody jumped off right after the station was completed," Matt said.

"Yeah, the dummy thought that since he was out in space, it was zero gravity. He didn't understand that you needed to be in orbit moving at twenty-seven thousand five hundred kilometers per hour around the Earth to fall free, so he stepped off. They said he screamed all the way down until he hit the atmosphere and burned up."

"What the devil is that?" Matt exclaimed as he leaned forward and pointed.

Four white figures leapt from the side of the station and started to fall, shooting past the car and heading straight down towards Earth.

"Newest sport around," Brian said eagerly. "That guy taking the fall sort of invented it, I guess. Space diving. You leap from the five hundred-kilometer station and free fall for almost four hundred klicks. You have a small reentry shield on your back and retro-rockets to slow you down when you hit the atmosphere. When you get to ten thousand feet, your main chute opens. Best darn thirty minutes of your life!"

"You've done it?" Justin asked.

"Yup," Brian said with a grin. "The Academy opened it up as a competition sport last year. There's talk that it'll be part of the next space Olympics and I plan to be on the team. We see who can land closest to a target back down on the Earth's surface. We're scheduled to do some jumps later this month. Hey, we need a couple more members on the team why don't you two try out?"

"Sure, I'd love it!" Matt said enthusiastically. "It'd be a kick to fall from the sky like that."

Justin nodded as if in full agreement, but in his heart he wished that Brian would forget about it. The idea of falling hundreds of kilometers and thundering through the Earth's atmosphere was not necessarily his idea of a good time.

"I'll put you guys down on the list then," Brian announced.

"Yeah, thanks," Justin replied, wanting to kick Matt for agreeing.

Another jumper leapt off and Justin found it strange that the tourists were applauding, their gloved hands striking together soundlessly.

They shot through the middle of the station past a docked car on a side track, and several seconds later they emerged topside. To his right Justin saw an old-style low orbit transfer ship departing from the station. He had heard that it was a heck of a ride. The moment the ship undocked from the side of the tower it'd start to fall straight down towards Earth, all rockets firing until it accelerated to orbital speed; then it would climb back up and insert into orbit. It was definitely not for the weak of stomach. He was glad that for this trip up he had made sure that he had put on an anti-space-sickness patch, unlike the last time.

"All passengers please remain seated," the computer requested. "We will now accelerate up to our maximum speed of seven thousand two hundred kilometers per hour. Our arrival time at Geosynch Orbit Base is scheduled for 1919 Greenwich Space Time."

"Here we go!" Brian said. "This is my favorite part."

Justin felt as if he had been kicked in the pants. He raised his arm and it felt decidedly heavy. Looking over at a computer terminal display, he saw that they had just hit 2.1 gees acceleration and were holding. Their speed quickly climbed through a thousand kilometers an hour. The side of the tower became a blur. They crossed through two thousand and then three thousand kilometers per hour, the car riding smoothly. Downbound cars on other tracks snapped by and were soon almost impossible to see except for a flash of light that shot past in the blink of an eye.