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

Brown mumbled thoughtfully, “It’s probably too blurry to make out the code after zooming in so far.” Then, louder, he said, “The TPS guys will be able to tell us exactly what’s under each damaged tile.”

Walker, sensing Brown’s frustration at not being able to see the images himself, gave up all pretense and addressed both men. “Are you guys familiar with the difference between optical and digital zoom?”

“Yes, of course,” Brown overheard Walker in the background and answered instantly.

“I think so,” Warner said.

“Well, the images that Mr. Warner and I are looking at were all obtained optically. The five stages of image depth seen when the slider is moved to zoom in are from five actual pictures. They are not generated by the computer software; they’re actual pictures.”

“Unbelievable,” Brown said.

“Sure is,” Warner said.

Brown let out a sigh over the phone, trying to think what to do next. “Can you estimate the surface area damage?”

“Well, it would be hard to say with no scale to compare the damage to. I’m not familiar enough with the tiles that I could…”

“Push F3,” Walker said.

Warner looked up again, almost laughed. It was now obviously a three-way conversation. He pushed F3 on his computer. Instantly, a scale with X and Y axes overlaid the tile image; incremental markings along the hairlines divided centimeters into millimeters and inches into fractions. “Brown, I wish you could see this,” he exclaimed. “The detail. The precision. It’s unbelievable.”

“So, using the scale, tell me how big of an area of damage you’re looking at,” Brown said.

“Hold on a second… Okay, it’s three-and-a-quarter by two-and-a-half inches, and the damage spans two tiles.”

“That’s not good, not good at all. What about depth?”

“It’s full thickness over more than half of that area.”

“Shit, this is not good,” Brown said, falling back into his desk chair. Brown knew that no orbiter had ever landed with as much damage as Atlantis had right now, and she hadn’t even been subjected to the heat of reentry yet.

“How bad are you thinking, Ken?” Warner asked, hoping to better appreciate the tile damage from Brown’s perspective. “I’ve still got two white areas to examine, and we haven’t even looked at the other wing yet.”

Brown didn’t respond.

“I mean if this tile can’t support reentry, we’re truly out of fuckin’ cards here, Ken. Atlantis was it, she’s our last card.”

Chapter 58

Columbia Flight Day 26

Monday, Feb. 10, 2003

“HOUSTON, ATLANTIS, we have visualization of Columbia. One-hundred-thousand-feet and closing.”

“Atlantis, Houston, we copy visualization. Break, break, Columbia, Houston for the commander, do you have a visualization of Atlantis?”

“Houston, Columbia, that’s affirmative. She’s a beautiful sight out of window one.”

“Roger that, Columbia. We’ll get ’em to ya just as fast as we can.”

“Copy that. Our suitcases are packed and stacked by the door.”

On Columbia, the first two astronauts to be rescued were already in the airlock making their final suit preparations for the spacewalk to Atlantis. They were nearly finished with their pre-breathe protocol, nearly ready to be rescued. The weeks of waiting and worrying would soon end. The crew of Columbia had mixed feelings as they prepared to depart their ailing spacecraft. Obviously, they were grateful to see Atlantis approaching. But at the same time they realized this was likely their last flight.

Despite the extreme nature of their predicament, all of the astronauts on Columbia still felt that they had important science to study, future missions to be considered for, and components of the International Space Station to help build.

However, most of the men and women on Columbia realized their future endeavors in science would be ground-based. For one thing, any spouse simply would not allow them to take further risk after having so narrowly escaped death.

There also was a definite celebrity status that Columbia’s crew would come to know. NASA’s public affairs office already had been inundated with calls from television networks inquiring about how they could arrange to have the crew of Columbia appear on their programs. There would be books to write, guest appearances and speaking engagements.

For all the crew had endured, America would reward them in the best way it knew how: It would make them rich and famous.

Chapter 59

Johnson Space Center, Houston

Mission Control

WITH THE RESCUE SPACEWALK still several hours away from commencement, four engineers from NASA’s Thermal Protection System engineering team hurried into a small conference room at Mission Control. None of the engineers from the TPS team had been given any details about the purpose of the meeting, save where and when to meet.

The majority of the TPS team’s mission-related work usually occurred either before a launch, in the careful preparation of an orbiter’s heat shield, or after an orbiter returned from space, when damaged tiles were replaced. So being called to a secretive, unscheduled meeting at 6:00 A.M., just five hours after a launch, stirred the engineers’ fears about Atlantis’s heat shield. As Julie Pollard and Joseph Senca entered the room, the group’s nervous conversation died immediately,

Without uttering a single word, Pollard leaned in across the table and handed a folded sheet of paper to Doug Altin, the most senior engineer, seated midway along the conference table. Altin took the sheet and opened it. Engineers to his left and right peered over his shoulders.

“Tile codes,” Altin said immediately.

“Yes,” Pollard said.

“From Atlantis I presume?”

“Yes. Hi-res satellite imaging, I mean really hi-res,” Pollard said, emphasizing the reliability of the source, “shows those five tiles from Atlantis are badly damaged.”

The purpose of the meeting was obvious to the four engineers: The tile codes represented tiles damaged during the rescue launch, and they were being assigned to the rescue mission’s next Tiger Team.

“Jesus!” Altin said.

Pollard held out her hand to quell any further outbursts. Altin was right. She knew it—hell, everyone knew it. It wasn’t just the TPS