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

Columbia’s damaged wing. America has spent the past three weeks following the day-to-day lives of the astronauts on Columbia, meeting the four-person crew of Atlantis and learning about their expedited training. All the wondering and waiting has come down to right now. Just a minute or so ago, the countdown clock for Atlantis resumed and now we’re less than nine minutes from launch. We have a split screen now showing the countdown clock. We are T-minus-seven-minutes-eighteen-seconds from launch now. All the hard work of the ground crews and astronauts and engineers over the past twenty days—and the countless prayer vigils held during that time throughout the country and even abroad—all that effort brings us to this point, just a few minutes from launch. Everyone here, of course, is very optimistic. But we must keep in mind how difficult it is to get the shuttle off the ground in the first place, and how much more difficult when the process has been rushed.”

In CNN’s production booth, monitors showed multiple camera views, but what was going out to America and the world over the TV feed was a multi-split screen of Stangley, the countdown clock and the shuttle on the launch pad.

“There are no more planned holds for Atlantis,” Stangley said. “If all goes well the clock will count down all the way to launch without stopping again, and Atlantis will be on her way. If something happens between now and T-minus-zero minutes, some problem that forces NASA to scrub this launch, keep in mind that NASA still has two more launch windows, one tomorrow night, and again the following night. Let’s listen in to Mission Control…”

NASA Announcer (Mike Sinter): T-minus-five minutes and counting. Less than five minutes now from the launch of Atlantis and her crew of four.

Launch Control: Atlantis you’re go for APU start.

Rivas: Roger go for APU start.

NASA Announcer: Pilot Edward Rivas now flipping the three switches on the flight deck of Atlantis to start each of the APUs or Auxiliary Power Units.

“Some voices there from NASA as we listen in to launch control,” Stangley said, looking down at his notes, then back up at the camera. “The launch of Atlantis is now very close. I have to say, this gives me the chills. Of all the launches I’ve seen live here at the Kennedy Space Center, this one is by far the most special. This launch signifies a lot. This rescue mission may not be pushing us ahead in science, but it certainly speaks to what we are capable of. How the human spirit joins together for something greater. The hours and hours of effort to get Atlantis ready for a rescue. And here we are now just a few minutes away from liftoff. Let’s just listen in…”

Stangley’s voice dropped off suddenly, prompting a look of concern from his producer. His eyes were welling now and he did not think he could speak. He was caught up in the emotion of the launch, the culmination of more than three weeks of work, and the ongoing drama surrounding the launch. The biggest launch of his career was moments away. NASA was poised to overcome its biggest hurdle ever.

NASA Announcer: T-minus-four minutes and counting. Orbiter surfaces such as rudder and speed brakes are now moving through a preprogrammed pattern to verify they’re ready for launch.

Launch Control: Initiate main engine gimbal profile checks.

Gaseous vapors vented steadily from Atlantis’s main engines, puffing and spewing into the night air like a stationed steam-powered locomotive anxious for departure.

NASA Announcer: T-minus-three-minutes-ten-seconds and counting. The gaseous oxygen vent hood, or “beanie cap,” is now being lifted from the External Fuel Tank.

NASA Announcer: T-minus-two minutes and counting, less than two minutes now from the launch of Atlantis and her crew of four. Atlantis now running on its onboard reactants.

Launch Control: Atlantis, for the crew, close and lock your visors and initiate O2 flux.

Chapter 47

On Atlantis, Flight Deck

AVERY, RIVAS, GARRETT AND MULLEN simultaneously reach for the upper lip of their helmet visors, pulling pristine tinted fishbowls down over their faces. Visor locks click. Cool flowing oxygen at 10.2 pounds per square inch seeps in with a steady hiss, imparting a far-off odor of plastic and greased metal parts. A breath in and a breath out counting off the seconds. Three liquid-fueled main engines beneath them, ready to devour 500,000 gallons of fuel in just over two minutes.

What kind of person agrees to this?

Two long hours of waiting. Instrument checks, countdown holds. Their moment now coming. Windshields tipped skyward. Legs elevated and numbing, shoulder harnesses and lap restraints cinched tight, biting. Lying atop neatly packed parachutes, launch position. Hot spots over skin and muscle, blood diverted by pressure and gravity, lumbar spines aching like backwoods toes in city shoes.

Suddenly a shudder tears through the cabin and it creaks and moans like an albacore charter in 20-foot seas. Not liftoff yet, but merely the final test of Atlantis’s main-engine steering mechanism. The huge engine bells gimbal beneath the crew, moving in all directions before finding their neutral position for launch.

Control is transferred to Atlantis’s onboard computers.

“We’re go for auto sequence start.”

The ground launch sequencer is activated. Thousands of sensors twinkle with data. Instrument displays hustle to keep up.

T-minus-30 seconds.

Review checklists from tethered cards. Ready abort procedures. The range safety officer reports the weather forecast for Spain and Morocco is within launch-criteria limits; the two critical downrange landing sites are ready if an abort is needed. Final communications with launch control crackle loudly in helmet speakers.

The release switch at the water tower is triggered, sending 300,000 gallons of water down into the empty flame trench that lies beneath the launch platform—an absolute necessity for providing acoustic-shock protection to the shuttle during launch.

T-minus-15 seconds. Spouses and family nervously assemble on the roof of KSC’s Launch Complex Center. Their loved ones are on a mission.

In space, Columbia’s