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

many photo-ops for the president. In the coming days, he is expected to address the ground crews working on Atlantis, give them praise, and treat them like soldiers serving their country in a time of war. He’ll also meet with the four Atlantis astronauts. Many are speculating they’ll be invited for a White House dinner before their historic rescue mission.

“Many here feel that a successful rescue mission will be quite helpful for the president’s reelection campaign. In just the past two days since he gave his rescue mission speech, we’ve seen his approval numbers climb 15 points.

“NASA’s space achievements have always had a way with people around the world. This rescue mission will be followed closely around the globe, especially with an Israeli and an Indian astronaut aboard Columbia. It will be interesting to see how these situations unfold in the coming weeks. Live from Washington, I’m Jerry Campbell. Stephanie?”

“Thanks for your report, Jerry. This is really turning out to be an interesting story.”

“You’re right, Stephanie. The story is much bigger than just NASA’s rescue effort. I think we’re just beginning to see how a successful rescue will impact not only this country, but the world as a whole.”

“I’m getting the sense, Jerry, from all the reports coming in now, that America seems to be embracing this rescue mission. It’s as if the rescue is inspiring renewed patriotism and pride in this post-9/11 world. We thank you, Jerry, for that report.

“Stay tuned to CNN for continuing coverage of NASA’s historic rescue mission… we turn now to our national weather report. Joining us for that is…”

Chapter 32

Columbia Flight Day 7

Wednesday, Jan. 22, 2003

DANA AVERY WAS SPRINKLING grated parmesan cheese on her daughter Samantha’s spaghetti when her call came in. She had been on edge all day, anticipating this call, cocked like a mousetrap in the dark.

Normally, the family rule was no phone calls during dinner. It was her husband’s rule, but with all that was going on at NASA, that rule simply wasn’t going to apply tonight. She looked at her husband as she started to move toward the phone. He reassured her with a smile. He understood what this assignment would mean to her and her career as an astronaut.

NASA managers, along with Senca’s Tiger Team, had determined that the optimal crew count for the rescue mission was four astronauts: a commander, pilot, and two mission specialists. It was the minimum number of astronauts required to effectively and safely complete the rescue. Alternates for the four astronaut positions would be assigned and they would train in unison with the primary four.

Astronaut selection would be based on experience. Most important would be an astronaut’s proven ability to quickly adapt to microgravity, as well as proficiency in the simulators. The typical 40 to 50 weeks spent on mission-specific training would be reduced to just two weeks. Seven commanders, seven pilots, and nine EVA astronauts met NASA’s mission criteria for the rescue mission.

Tonight, only eight astronauts would get a phone call—although all 23 would be waiting.

Avery walked from the dinner table over to the wall-mounted phone at the sink. When she saw the number in the caller-ID window, her stomach dropped. She turned towards the kitchen table and said, “Hey guys, I think this is it!”

“Well, get it, Mommy,” 5-year-old Samantha instructed, as Avery stood waiting for one more ring. “Get the phone!”

She finally snatched up the phone and said, “Avery here.”

“Dana, this is Greg Thomassan…”

Avery didn’t wait for him to finish.

“Yes, Greg, I recognize your voice, what’s the word?”

“I’m calling to offer you a ride on Atlantis, for STS-300.”

Avery hesitated, “Ah, STS-300, Greg? What’s…”

“Oh, sorry, we just got the mission designation, and STS-300 is the rescue mission.”

“Yeah, I’m in, then.”

Thomassan paused. “Dana, we’d like you to serve as the commander.”

“It would be an honor,” Avery said, standing in front of her husband and daughter with her fist clenched and an ear-to-ear smile.

“The official mission training for STS-300 will start tomorrow. But you know I’m a man of tradition, so I thought we could meet briefly, along with the rest of your crew, for a celebratory drink at the Outpost Tavern around nine tonight.”

“Oh, I’ll be there.”

“Good, then, Dana. Glad to have you aboard. See you in a couple of hours.”

Chapter 33

WHEN HIS CALL CAME, Edward Rivas was singing badly into the cloudless Houston night, top down on his two-month-old Mustang GT, “Love Shack” blasting from the speakers. Worried he might miss NASA’s call, he had placed his cell phone between his legs with it set to vibrate. This was Rivas’s first convertible, and he wanted his ears filled with the roar of the engine and his music. He was startled by the first ring—vibration, actually—and in looking down for his phone he swerved clear out of his lane before correcting. When he saw the caller ID, he cut the stereo, checked his rearview mirror for traffic, then made a radical pullover maneuver to the shoulder. He fumbled the phone to his ear.

“This is Ed.”

“Hello?” the voice on the other end questioned.

He heard only highway white noise followed by peaks of even more white noise. The caller’s hesitation made Ed think someone had reached him by mistake. His heart sank with the thought it might be a false alarm.

“Ed?”

“Yeah, this is…”

“Where the heck are…?”

“Ed Rivas here.”

The two battled back and forth through the sketchy cell phone reception.

“Ed, Greg Thomassan here. Sounds like you’re in a tunnel.”

“Oh sorry, I’m on five-twenty-eight, just west of the seventy-five.”

“You’re still living down in Friendswood, right?”

“Yep, on my way home right now as a matter of fact.”

Rivas nervously traced a finger over the raised horse emblem on the center of the steering wheel. The small talk was killing him. Get to it, man! He checked the dashboard