launching depth. Ballasting the platform lower, the computer knew, risked damaging the low-hanging thrust deflectors. In a handful of nanoseconds, the computer program reviewed its software logic for priority actions. The results came back unambiguous. During a designated launch countdown, the stabilization system was to maintain launch depth as its first priority. The sinking aft columns would be ignored.
Aboard the Koguryo, a red warning light began blinking id the launch control room with less than two minutes to go. A bespectacled engineer studied the platform stabilization warning for moment, then jotted down some notations and briskly stepped over to Ling.
“Mr. Ling, we have a platform stabilization warning,” he reportec “What is the deviation?” Ling asked hurriedly.
“An aft list of three degrees.”
“That is inconsequential,” he replied, brushing off the engineer.
Turning to Tongju, who stood at his side, he said, “A list of five degrees or less is no cause for concern.”
Tongju could almost taste the results of the launch now. There could be no turning back now.
“Do not halt the launch for any reason,” he hissed at Ling in a tense voice. The chief engineer gritted his teeth and nodded, then stared nervously at the waiting rocket that stood shimmering on the video screen.
The interior of the Badger was a jumbled mess of tools, computer parts, and interior pieces that sloshed back and forth across the floor with each jerk of the sub. Pitt remained oblivious to the carnage as he rammed the submersible against the platform column for the umpteenth time. Seawater slapped at his calves as he braced himself for yet another collision, listening for the warning barn of the core probe as it punched into the column side. Thrown harshly forward at impact, he detected the smell of burned wiring as yet another electrical component shorted out from saltwater immersion. Pitt's hammering had turned the submersible into a shattered hulk of its former self. The rounded exterior bow had been pounded nearly flat, its coating of glittery red paint roughly scraped away from the repeated blows. The coring probe was bent and twisted like a piece of- licorice and barely clung to the Badger by a pair of mangled brace supports. Inside, the lights flickered, the water level rose, and the propulsion motors began dying one by one. Pitt could feel the life ebbing from the submersible as he listened to the groans and gurgles of the flailing machine. As he tried to reverse the thrusters and back away from the column, a new sound struck his ears. It was a deep rushing noise emanating far above his head.
To the casual observer, the first sign of an imminent rocket blast off the Sea Launch platform is the roaring rush of fresh water as it is pumped into the deluge system. At T-5 seconds, a veritable flood of dampening water is released into the flame trench positioned beneath the launchpad. The effect of the massive water dousing is to lessen the thrust exhaust effects to the platform, and, more important, minimize potential acoustic damage to the payload from the maelstrom at launch.
At T-3 seconds, the Zenit rocket begins groaning and stirring as its internal mechanisms are activated and the massive rocket comes to life. Inside its metal skin, a high-speed turbine pump begins force-feeding the volatile liquid propellant through an injector into the rocket engine's four combustion chambers. Inside each chamber, an igniter is activated, detonating the propellant in what amounts to a controlled explosion. The exhaust from the fiery detonation, seeking the path of least resistance, comes blasting out of each chamber through a constricted nozzle at the base of the rocket. The power of thrust is generated by the purged exhaust, enabling the Zenit rocket to defy the force of gravity and lift itself off the launchpad.
But the final three seconds of countdown are all critical. In those brief few seconds, onboard computer systems quickly monitor the engine start-up, checking propellant mixture, flow rates, ignition temperature, and a host of other mechanical readings affecting engine burn. If a significant deviation is discovered in any of the engine parameters, the automated control system takes over, shutting down the engine and scrubbing the launch. A reinitialization of the entire launch process is then required, which may take upward of five days before another launch can be attempted.
Ling ignored the video screen of the Zenit at the launch tower and instead stared at a computer display of critical measurements as the final seconds of the launch countdown ticked toward zero. At T-1 second, a row of green lights burst onto the screen and Ling allowed himself a slight breath of relief.
“We have main engine thrust up!” he shouted aloud as the display told him the computers were ramping up the rocket's RD-171 engine to maximum launch thrust. Every eye in the room turned to the video screen as the propellant floodgates were opened and the fuel burst through the rocket's engine in a torrent. For a long second, the rocket sat still on the pad as the fiery exhaust burst from its nozzles, the flames licking the water deluge and spraying a thick cloud of white smoke beneath the platform. Then, with a burgeoning burst of power, the Zenit surged up off the pad. The launch tower clamps fell away as the white rocket, erupting with 1.8 million pounds of thrust, climbed up past the tower and into the sky with a blinding glare and deafening roar.
A cheer rang through the launch control center as the engineers watched the Zenit rise successfully off the platform. Ling broke into a broad smile as the rocket climbed higher, grinning good-naturedly at Tongju. Kang's henchman simply nodded back in satisfaction.
At the far side of the bay, the bespectacled engineer who monitored the platform continued to stare mesmerized at the video image of the rocket as it climbed into the crisp blue sky. Oblivious to him was the computation on his computer monitor, which showed that the platform stabilization deviation had continued to rise, creeping past fifteen degrees in the last seconds prior to launch.
Fifteen feet beneath the water's surface, Pitt's ears were bleeding from the acoustical barrage. What started with the sound of a distant freight train had rumbled into the bombardment of a thousand erupting volcanoes as the Zenit's engine reached full thrust. The deafening sound, Pitt knew, was only a warning of the real savagery to come. The building force of the rocket's exhaust was deflected into the flame trench, where thousands of gallons of water dampened the inferno. The blasting force of the exhaust was little repressed, however, gathering into a steaming cloud of fury that proceeded past the deflectors to the open sea below the platform, where it pounded the water like a sledgehammer.
Positioned almost directly beneath the launchpad, the Badger was pummeled like a small toy, surging twenty feet down in a blast of bubbles and vapor. Pitt felt as if he were trapped in a washing machine as the submersible was tossed violently about. The seams of the vessel twisted and groaned from the force of the surge and the interior lights flickered from the shaking. A loose battery pack bounced off Pitt's head, gashing his temple as the submersible nearly turned turtle in the bellowing turbulence. Shaking off the blow, he discovered a new worry when he braced a hand against the bulkhead during a side roll. To his surprise, the bulkhead was searing hot. He quickly pulled his hand away, cursing as he shook it in the air to cool. A sickening thought drew over him as he felt a heavy mist of sweat dripping down his forehead and realized the water sloshing at his feet was rapidly warming. The rocket's exhaust was creating a boiling tempest around him, which might poach him alive before the rocket cleared the platform.
A second, more powerful surge stuck the submersible as the rocket's full thrust came to bear. The force of the current pushed the Badger charging through the water in a contorted angle, nearly on its side. Pitt clung to the controls for balance, unable to see ahead through the turbulent water, which offered no visibility. Had he an inkling where the submersible was headed, he might have braced himself for the impact. But the collision came without warning.
Ripping with the surge like a raft down the Colorado River, the submersible tore head-on into the side of the Odyssey's flooded port pontoon. A metallic clap thundered through the water as the submersible smacked against the immovable hull. Pitt was jerked from the pilot's seat and flung against the forward bulkhead amid a rain of loosened electronic debris as the interior lights fell black and a series of hissing sounds erupted throughout the compartment. A grinding noise told Pitt that the Badger was sliding along the pontoon until another clang erupted and the submersible tilted over to one side and jerked to a sudden stop. As Pitt collected his senses, he realized that the submersible was wedged against the platform hull from the force of the rushing water, perhaps entangled in one of the pontoon's drive propellers. Turned on its side against the huge pontoon, there was no way that Pitt could open the entry hatch, dare he try to flood the interior and escape to the surface. With a sickening awe, he realized that if he wasn't soon baked alive he would face a swift death by drowning trapped inside the leaking submersible.
Six thousand miles away, Kang smiled weakly as he watched a satellite feed of the rocket bursting off the deck of the Odyssey.
“We have opened the genie's bottle,” he said quietly to Kwan, sitting across his desk. “Let us hope he follows his master's wishes.”
