John Ringo - Von Neumann’s War

“This is funny as hell, John.” Roger laughed as John Fisher, who was from Denver, gave him driving directions through his own hometown. “I grew up in this town and never been to the Boeing Delta IV rocket factory just ten miles away in Decatur. I mean, I’ve fished with my dad by the plant, but I’ve never actually been there. You know, come to think of it I’ve fished with him by the nuclear plant, too, and I’ve never been inside that thing. Hell, I’m glad you know how to drive to it. Otherwise we’d have to walk up the river.”

“Yeah, well, turn left there,” John said with a smile. “You payload guys never seem to worry about how the rockets are actually put together. That’s what I’ve been telling you all along. This rocket we’re building is different from any other Delta IV Heavy; we’ve had to make extensive modifications to the attachment points.”

“So you keep telling me. And the hundred million dollar price tag on the modification didn’t elude my notice either.” Roger pulled his car into a visitor parking spot. One month into the Neighborhood Watch the first modified common booster core was being rolled off the line. John had led a scaled design “shake and bake” test out at the shake-stand at NASA MSFC and it looked like the hardpoints would hold. The finite-element analysis looked good and the scaled test looked good, but there would be no time for a full-scale test. They were just going to have to hook the three CBC tubes together, then strap on eight solid rocket boosters around them to these modified hardpoints. Roger was not as nervous about that as John was, but both men were at least apprehensive to some extent and wanted to see the manufacturing process in action. And there was still the modified second-stage fairing that had yet to be tested.

It took them about fifteen minutes to make it through security protocols, stop off at the restroom, then find their way around. John had been to the Boeing rocket plant at least once a week since the Neighborhood Watch had started. He had been back and forth between Decatur and CCAFS in Florida routinely. Sometimes he would make the trip several times a week. John was trying to make sure that the rocket pieces got manufactured to design in Decatur, and that they would be integrated appropriately in Florida.

“So, what exactly are we going to see?” Roger asked as he fiddled with the visitor badge on his jacket that read “No Escort Required.”

“This way,” John said as he led Roger around a corner to the high-bay area. “They’re running the third and final CBC outer shell today. We’ll get to see that thing manufactured. But what I want you to see is the second-stage fairing-test model. It doesn’t work. I mean, I know how to make it in Solid Edge and FEMAP as a finite element model, but we can’t figure out how to build the damned thing and fit it in the rocket’s aerodynamic shroud with the COTS and GOTS parts available.”

“Why not?” Roger raised his left eyebrow in concern.

“Well, we had the three second stage RL10B-2 engines modified to have twice the fuel and oxidizer like Dr. Powell’s trajectory design requires, but doing that makes the pressure vessels an odd size and there are no COTS or GOTS space-qualified tanks that will fit in the shroud.” John paused in his explanation and started chatting with a fellow running a piece of manufacturing equipment that looked more like a computer than a milling machine.

“Oh, they’re about to weld that up now. If you hurry you can catch it,” the man told him.

“Great, thanks, Mike.” John patted the man on the shoulder. “Roger, this way. That big crane and cylinder down there is where the booster core casing is rolled up. Mike there says they’re about to roll off the third CBC. Let’s hurry down to that end so we can see this better. Oh, one more thing. Stay inside the yellow painted lines, otherwise somebody will get a briefing about OSHA and safety.”

“Yellow lines, got it.”

As the two men made it to the end of the high-bay a large sheet of aluminum that had a honeycomb structure milled out into it on its up side was slid up under a big roller by an unseen conveyor. The larger roller drum then pressed onto the sheet metal. The aluminum bucked, then rolled itself up into a cylinder about five meters in diameter around the huge drum roller. The former sheet that was now an aluminum tube was lifted upright by its end.

“Watch this part; it’s cool as hell.” John pointed at the large welding apparatus as it dropped to the seam of the sheet-metal cylinder.

Roger watched as a large welding rod that looked more like a pointed trailer hitch ball was pressed against the aluminum rocket tube while the ball was spinning at God only knew how many thousands of revolutions per minute. The welding rod was touched to the aluminum where it had been rolled together and it spun so fast that when it touched the metal the friction of it was hot enough to force the welding of the aluminum seam. The welding rod zipped down what it was turning into a rocket tube with a screech, sealing the seam with a near perfect joint.

“That is some cool shit.” Roger grinned like a kid in a candy store. He allowed himself the break of standing and staring in awe for just a few moments more before it was back to the urgent business of the Neighborhood Watch.

“Now, why don’t we get to looking at this second stage model, ’cause I’ve got to get back to work on the focal plane array packages for the telescope.” Roger put his hands in his pants pockets and the little kid’s giddy stare turned to a more serious one.

“Right. It’s around the corridor here.” John led Roger to another room with a shake table in it. Atop the table was a one-tenth scaled model of the second stage system.

There were three scaled engines on the table. The engines were the “stretched” or “extended” RL10B-2 motors from Pratt Whitney. In order to have twice the specific impulse and burn time, the tankage for both fuel and oxidizer had to be larger. The problem was that the rocket design team had not been able to find available tankage parts that had been flight-proven and were the appropriate size.

Roger surveyed the parts and the various engineering drawings lying on the floor and pinned to the walls around the room. There was one Solid Edge drawing of the engines on a computer monitor. Somebody must have just been in the room and stepped out for a moment or their screen saver was turned off. How damned hard could this be , he thought. We just need bigger tanks! I’ve got so much shit to be doing!

“You see, Rog, if we use the tanks from any other engine, the pumps won’t fit, the frame will be too large to fit in the aerodynamic shroud without building a new shroud, or the structural design will be questionable, which means we aren’t certain about the shake and bake of the larger frame. And if we go to a modified shroud we have to run all new CFD models of the ascent friction and you know that Dr. Powell won’t be happy with that.”

“Uh huh.” Roger frowned.

“There just aren’t enough available COTS or GOTS engine parts to solve this problem.” John pointed to the model, pointing out the deficiencies in the design. “Open for suggestions here.”

“Jesus, John, has this country been wrapped up in paperwork and bureaucracy for so long that just doing things is beyond us? Stack a couple of gas tanks out of old pickups together! Whatever it takes!”

“Weeelll.” John stretched out the word. “I do have a solution, but it isn’t from a space-qualified piece of hardware and both the Air Force and NASA frown on such. But if—”

“John. Let’s hear your idea.”

“Okay. It really is simple, but you’ll have to get a waiver from NRO, or Boeing will never approve or build it. I’ve been round and round with them about it. In their mind, it’s just way too much risk. That’s really why I brought you.” He pointed to the computer monitor. “Here look at this. I’ve tried to convince them that this is what we need to do but… well, hell, it has been harder than it was getting them to agree to the mods for the strap-on boosters. Risk-averse assholes.”