“Dingbat!” Charlotte coughed.
“So far, Mr. President, Project Neighborhood Watch is going well,” Ronny said, trying not to yawn. Yawning in the President’s face was considered a faux pas. “I believe we’ve put together an excellent team, developed a logical plan, and are implementing it with no glitches at this point. We should hit our launch window of August twenty-first.”
“This looks good, Ronny. Are there any problems that the White House can help with?” The President continued to thumb through the Daily Brief.
“None that I can foresee, Mr. President,” Ronny replied. “But the engineering on this is going to be complex. If anything comes up, I’ll forward it to your attention.”
“Good. One more thing, Ronny.”
“Yes, sir?” the DDNRO asked.
“Has the situation on Mars, well, has it changed any?”
“Yes, sir, it has, but only for the worse. The change is more or less visible to the naked eye at this point, sir.”
“I see.”
Ret Balclass="underline" Well, friends. I will have to say that although I respected my good friend Megiddo’s insight, I never really and truly could prove he was right. But Hiowa Lend, our investigative journalist, has been investigating the Mars phenomena and she believes she has uncovered something startling. Go ahead, Hiowa, you are on the Truth Nationwide.
Hiowa Lend: Thanks, Ret, and that is absolutely correct. I recently hired several professional astronomers to make observations of Mars with their telescopes from professional observatories at three different universities across the country. And I can tell you definitively that Mars is indeed changing colors. The astronomers tell me that the surface color albedo has changed. The albedo is the measurement that astronomers use to describe the color and brightness of an astronomical object. And the astronomers I’ve talked with tell me that Mars has changed. Changed dramatically.
Ret Balclass="underline" That is astounding, Hiowa! Let’s get them on the air and let them tell us about it.
Hiowa Lend: Well, Ret, that is the catch. It seems that none of them will come forward and speak publicly due to fear of professional ridicule and being ostracized from the community.
Ret Balclass="underline" Isn’t that amazing? I mean, if something is a fact, it’s a fact. What harm could come of reporting it?
Hiowa Lend: Well Ret, none of my sources will volunteer to come forward, but I can assure you that they’re all well-respected astronomers.
Ret Balclass="underline" Perhaps Megiddo was right. What if this really is a CIA cover-up and a right-wing conspiracy?
Hiowa Lend: My sentiments exactly, Ret.
“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.