Launch on Need by Daniel Guiteras (small books to read txt) 📗

and wanted everyone’s attention. The room quieted; they were eager to hear what she had to say. Representatives from virtually every shuttle discipline, engineers most of them, were here for this meeting, filling the room to capacity and spilling out into the hallways 30 feet to the left and right of the rear double doors. Ten engineers, including Ken Brown, had already signed in via conference call from NASA’s Kennedy and Marshall space flight centers.

Every engineer present for the meeting had contributed to the flight in some way. And when the success of a flight was threatened, the engineers became very concerned.

Engineers by nature are fascinated creatures. Fascinated by how things work and how they don’t, they revel in the process of problem-solving often as much as the solution itself. Engineering problems at NASA, however, often come with unusually high stakes: possible loss of crew, possible loss of a $2-billion spacecraft, or both.

Pollard shuffled some papers in front of her, fiddled with the screen of her laptop, then looked up to address the group.

“Welcome to the second Mission Management Team Meeting for STS-107. In response to the organization-wide interest in this debris-strike incident, the team and I thought it would be prudent to invite the various departments to join us today, to provide an opportunity for you to offer input on the issue.

“First, I want to thank you all for coming today. I know it’s Saturday, and for many of you, this should be a three-day weekend. Your dedication to this organization, this mission and the crew are greatly appreciated.

“The purpose of this meeting today is to get updates from the tiger team as well as other pertinent shuttle program engineering teams, to summarize our knowledge of the debris-strike issue, determine the severity of the problem, and ultimately determine a course of action.”

Pollard had thought the debris-strike issue all the way through; she had seen the evidence and was certain what should be done. But there was a process here at NASA, steps to follow, and she was determined to lead the way.

Back when her alarm went off this morning at 5:30 A.M., she was already awake, eyes wide open, ideas moving through an ultra-efficient assembly line of analysis. Fifteen minutes later she had settled in for her morning run, five easy miles at a six-mile per hour pace. She ran effortlessly, with perfect posture and stride length, a quiet upper body, no wasted movements. Her legs moved like new pistons in fresh oil.

“Worst-case scenario?” she mouthed out loud through rhythmic respiration. Easy question, easy answer. She had learned the basic laws of physics long before graduating from MIT. You take away the protection, some chunk of debris smashes into the RCC panels, and in come the super-heated plasma gases, like proton torpedoes through the Death Star’s exhaust port. The gases would swarm into the wing, finding all sorts of structures that can’t take the heat. Such as the aluminum internal frame of the wing, the wing trusses, which would melt as easy as cheddar cheese in the 2,500-degree atmospheric oven of reentry.

“The crew would never survive the heat of reentry!” Pollard exclaimed out loud.

Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. The damage had not even been confirmed yet. But she knew better. If she had learned anything during her years at NASA, it was that in the space program, it is never too early to plan for the worst. And that’s exactly what she did. Nearing the end of her run, with the facade of her Cape Cod condominium and its rows of queen palms coming into view, she formulated her plan. If they gave her a worst-case scenario, she was ready.

Joseph Senca, Mission Evaluation Room (MER) Tiger Team leader, was the first to address the group. His team, comprised of seven engineers from Boeing, United Space Alliance and NASA, had been formed through NASA protocol shortly after the first information about the debris strike became available. They were the same engineers who had been staffing the mission evaluation room, a support service for the shuttle program that provided engineering expertise for any mission in progress. As a team, they had studied all available imaging from Columbia’s launch, both stills and video. They had also used a computer modeling program called Crater to estimate the amount of expected damage. Crater had been designed in the 1960s to help Apollo engineers estimate the amount of impact damage, or “cratering,” that a spacecraft might encounter if struck by micrometeorites. In the early 1980s, the software was modified to be used with the Shuttle Program, mostly to project tile damage from falling ice and foam during launch.

Senca was NASA’s chief structural engineer, and he stood on visual cue from Pollard and walked over to the podium, where he could control his PowerPoint presentation. He woke his laptop computer from sleep, and the three ceiling-mounted LCD projectors and four ceiling-mounted 32-inch TVs came alive with the title slide of his presentation. The whirring fans from the LCD projectors provided the only sound—and movement—in the crowded conference room.

Mission Evaluation Room Tiger Team

STS-107 Debris Strike

Preliminary Findings

Senca pushed the button on the remote control and the next slide flashed onto the screen. Immediately, heads began shaking in disbelief.

Debris “Blob” Estimates

Estimated size: 20 X 16 X 6 inches, or 20 X 20 X 2 inches

Estimated blob speed: 800 fps or 546 mph

Estimated blob impact angle: < 20 degrees

Suspected source of debris: Left ET Bi-pod ramp foam

Conversations broke out all around him and Senca felt the control of his presentation slipping away. It was clear the room was divided among those who thought the numbers were high, alarmist-thinking even, and those who believed the numbers, but were shocked at the implications. Senca spoke over the noise, attempting to regain control. “I’d like to…” he paused, letting the engineers get some of their thoughts out. “I’d like to preface this slide and the presentation by saying