kilometres away, to find goodness knows what; all his son cared about was that his Dad was going on a spacecraft, up and out amongst the stars.
Behind Bergman, Abrams sat back into his seat. His neck ached from craning into the narrow aisle to see up front. He suddenly felt tired, and he closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. He had been luckier than most in his position; he had never had to go on the long voyage out to Jupiter, and had enjoyed most of his trips into space, but as he sat there with the seat straps pressing into his shoulders, waiting for the engines to start, Abrams wondered if this had better be his last trip.
Elliott was watching the proceedings on the flight deck intently. This was his second time in space, and the experience was fascinating to him. He watched every motion of Clare and Wilson’s hands as they checked the positions of switches and the settings of the flying controls.
‘You guys okay back there?’ Clare’s voice came abruptly over the intercom, and she turned her head to the right. She could just see Bergman out of the edge of her helmet.
‘Fine,’ and ‘Okay here,’ came back from Abrams and Elliott in the rear seats. Bergman raised his hand and smiled back at her.
‘How about you, Matt? We’re about to start engines. You okay?’ Matt could see Clare’s eyes reflected in the glass of her head-up display, looking back at him.
‘All fine here,’ Matt said, wishing that he felt as confident as he sounded.
‘Not long to go now. We’re just waiting for ground control to tell us we can start up, and then we’ll get going. While we’re waiting, can I remind you all of the emergency procedure: if there’s any problem during the taxi, I will stop the aircraft and direct you to evacuate. Release your seat straps and get to the main door at the rear of the cabin. The escape slide will inflate automatically once the door is opened. Once you’re down the slide, get as far away from the aircraft as you can.
‘When we’re ready for takeoff, I’ll arm the ejection seats; if there’s an emergency I will fire them if we need to eject, or they will fire automatically if we go too far outside our safe flight envelope. Remember the ejection drill – faceplate down, and keep your head well back.
‘Anyone got any questions, or concerns?’
Nobody spoke; they were all reading the escape instructions again.
‘Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Sit back and enjoy the ride.’ Clare permitted herself a faint smile.
‘Clear to start engines, captain,’ Wilson said, and moved his seat forward a notch. He reached up and put his hand on the engine start selectors, and looked expectantly at Clare. She craned out of the windows, scanning the surrounding area for any ground traffic. Satisfied that all other vehicles were clear, she nodded to Wilson.
‘Okay. Startup sequence.’
Wilson pulled the start selector for the number one engine. The noise of the ground power truck outside increased as it poured power into the starting circuits, and the leftmost engine started to turn. Clare reached across and moved the fuel control lever to RUN, and the rising whine of the compressors gave way gradually to a distant, muffled roar.
‘EGT and oil pressure rising,’ Wilson confirmed, ‘ready to start number two.’
‘Start two.’
Behind the spaceplane, the falling rain swirled around in the river of hot exhaust as the number two engine came to life, and added its increasing roar to the first. The spaceplane stirred slightly on its landing gear, its brakes holding the craft in place.
‘Starting three.’
The sheets of water on the fuelling apron rippled as waves of hot gas swept across the surface, driving the water towards the surface drains. The third, then fourth engines spun up and joined the others, until four turbojets roared in the damp air.
Below the spaceplane’s nose, the ground dispatcher exchanged a last few words with the flight crew on the intercom, before disconnecting the ground power cable and stowing it back on the power truck. He slammed the cable locker shut and looked up at the cockpit windows, high above his head. The rain pelted down on his yellow waterproof overalls and ran into his face as he snapped off a salute.
Inside the cockpit, Clare returned the salute, and watched as the dispatcher ran for the truck’s cabin, and shelter from the rain. Moments later, the power truck pulled away and disappeared into the curtains of rain.
The voice of Andersen Tower came over Wilson’s headset.
‘Mercury Two Zero Seven, clear taxi to Runway Zero Six Right via Taxiway Bravo. Line up on runway and report ready for takeoff.’
‘Clear taxi Runway Zero Six Right via Bravo, Mercury Two Zero Seven.’ Wilson responded. He looked out of his side windows. ‘All clear my side.’
‘Okay. Clear my side. Moving off.’ Clare reached out, and eased the four thrust levers forward.
A small boy froze at the passenger window of a rented car as the engines’ roar increased. His head turned, following the spaceplane as it started to move. As if he could sense the small boy watching, Bergman was filled with a sudden yearning to reach out and hug his son one last time.
The spaceplane turned left and moved at a walking pace down the taxiway, its twin tailfins piercing the rain-filled sky.
Bergman’s wife reached back and squeezed her son’s hand, but he was oblivious, riveted to the sight and sound of the spaceplane, its navigation lights winking, rolling past where their car stood, its four engines tearing the air with their roar.
Something moved in her peripheral vision, and she watched as three crash tenders rolled along at a discreet distance behind the spaceplane, their red lights turning in the rain. They followed the spaceplane as it took another turn to the right, along the avenue of blue lights that led to the runway.
Other eyes were watching, too. A kilometre away in the main control tower, Colonel Helligan stood behind the ground controllers, binoculars to his eyes, chewing gum as he followed the spaceplane’s progress towards the runway. He watched the elevons and rudders cycle through their control movements: up, down, left, right, as the crew checked the control surfaces for full and free movement.
Two floors down in the tower, Rebecca Short and a group of relatives watched through the rain-soaked windows of viewing area, their hopes and fears embodied in the distant craft that moved through the rain. Short glanced at her watch. Zero hour.
The spaceplane came to the end of the taxiway and rolled onto the main runway, its landing gear thumping loudly as it passed over the joints in the pavement.
Clare waited until the cockpit was well past the centreline, and then turned the ponderous bulk of the spaceplane, the cockpit seeming to move sideways as the nose swung round. The long lines of brilliant white lights, outlining the edges and centreline, came into view, stretching off into the distance. Clare eased off on the turn, letting the spaceplane roll forwards until it was lined up down the centre of the runway.
The weather was easing slightly, but the end of the long runway was still hidden in the distance behind sheets of falling rain. Clare applied the brakes, and the spaceplane slowed to a halt, rocking back and forth slightly on its landing gear.
‘Mercury Two Zero Seven, Runway Zero Six Right, wind zero four zero at one seven, gust to two one, clear for takeoff. Left turn after takeoff, heading zero five two, clear to climb to seven hundred metres.’
‘Runway Zero Six Right, clear takeoff, left turn to zero five two, climb to seven hundred, Mercury Two Zero Seven,’ Wilson acknowledged.
Clare laid her right hand on the engine thrust levers.
‘Takeoff lighting.’
The wet runway outside brightened in the reflected light of the spaceplane’s landing lights.
‘Ejection seats armed.’ Clare pulled and turned a rotary switch on the abort control panel. ‘All set?’
‘Ready.’ Wilson confirmed.
Clare took one last look all round, checking that all was clear, and nodded to Wilson.
‘Right. Let’s go.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
