Read Online Heaven's Shadow by David S. Goyer, Michael Cassutt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David S. Goyer, Michael Cassutt
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would overlap with Tea’s crew on Destiny-7 .
“Shackleton and Keanu?”
“No, fuckhead. They aren’t made of fuel and consumables. They are going to forget the Moon and land on Keanu during closest approach.”
“That’s only two months from now. How the hell can they get a project like that together?”
“Turns out they’ve been kicking it around for a year, but, really, dude, the spacecraft doesn’t have to be changed; it’s all guidance and traj.”
Zack immediately began to consider the operational challenges of landing on Keanu . . . low gravity, the possibility that rocket exhaust would turn ice and snow into steam—
“I don’t get this,” Harley said. “The idea that Brahma is going to fly to Keanu is huge news—and I’m the one breaking it to you? That’s not the Zack Stewart I knew.”
In spite of his two-year fog—hell, call it depression—Zack was honest enough to recognize the truth of Harley’s statement. Besides, his own body confirmed it: He blushed. “All right,” he said. “What would you do if you were Zack Stewart?”
“You mean, aside from asking myself why I’m not still in bed with Nowinski at this hour?” That was another bull’s-eye for Harley Drake . . . in the past six months, Zack’s relationship with Tea had taken a sharp left turn from supportive family friend and fellow astronaut to . . . well, girlfriend.
With Tea assigned as commander of the upcoming Destiny-7 mission, America’s third visit to Shackleton Station, they had tried to keep the relationship quiet. Obviously they had failed.
“Yes,” Zack said, electing not to deny or confirm. “Aside from that.”
“I’d be knocking on Shane Weldon’s door.”
Zack was on his feet before Harley finished the sentence.
Shane Weldon’s tour as chief of the astronaut office had ended a year after he made the painful but inevitable decision to replace Zack with Travis Buell. Buell’s subsequent behavior on the first landing had contributed to Weldon’s change of job—NASA management was equally split between those who blamed Weldon for putting a hothead like Buell in such a visible position and those who thought him a managerial genius and patriot.
Moving him to mission operations made both sides happy. It was a promotion that put Weldon on a path to be head of the Johnson Space Center some day, and it also got him out of day-to-day personnel decisions.
Or so it said on the job description. In truth, Weldon, like the true bureaucratic master he was becoming, never let go of reins he once held. It was said in Building 4-South that not one of the new chief astronaut’s crew selections was final until Shane Weldon signed off.
Powerful or not, Weldon’s office was strictly government issue, part of a suite surrounding a central reception area occupied by three assistants, one of whom, the ancient Kerrie Kyle, nodded Zack to a couch. “Shane’s usually in by now.” Workdays at JSC ran from eight to four, if not earlier. Weldon’s absence was unusual enough that when he did show up—fifteen minutes later—Zack had to tease him. “Sleeping in these days?”
“Nice to see you, too,” Weldon said. “Come in.”
Zack followed him into his office, which was dominated by pictures and models of aircraft and spacecraft Weldon had flown—and a huge astronomical image of Keanu so new that it was resting on a chair. “You can move that,” Weldon said, realizing it was where a guest would sit.
“It’s fine where it is,” Zack said.
Weldon had been on his way to his seat. Instead he remained standing while opening his laptop. “Out with it.”
Zack felt like a ten-year-old selling chocolate bars for a school project. “Well, this might be above my pay grade, but if it’s true that Brahma is heading for a landing on Keanu, I think we ought to divert Destiny-7 there, too.” An old Michigan phrase came to him. “It’s time for Operation Welcome Wagon.”
“Why do you care if we
“Shackleton and Keanu?”
“No, fuckhead. They aren’t made of fuel and consumables. They are going to forget the Moon and land on Keanu during closest approach.”
“That’s only two months from now. How the hell can they get a project like that together?”
“Turns out they’ve been kicking it around for a year, but, really, dude, the spacecraft doesn’t have to be changed; it’s all guidance and traj.”
Zack immediately began to consider the operational challenges of landing on Keanu . . . low gravity, the possibility that rocket exhaust would turn ice and snow into steam—
“I don’t get this,” Harley said. “The idea that Brahma is going to fly to Keanu is huge news—and I’m the one breaking it to you? That’s not the Zack Stewart I knew.”
In spite of his two-year fog—hell, call it depression—Zack was honest enough to recognize the truth of Harley’s statement. Besides, his own body confirmed it: He blushed. “All right,” he said. “What would you do if you were Zack Stewart?”
“You mean, aside from asking myself why I’m not still in bed with Nowinski at this hour?” That was another bull’s-eye for Harley Drake . . . in the past six months, Zack’s relationship with Tea had taken a sharp left turn from supportive family friend and fellow astronaut to . . . well, girlfriend.
With Tea assigned as commander of the upcoming Destiny-7 mission, America’s third visit to Shackleton Station, they had tried to keep the relationship quiet. Obviously they had failed.
“Yes,” Zack said, electing not to deny or confirm. “Aside from that.”
“I’d be knocking on Shane Weldon’s door.”
Zack was on his feet before Harley finished the sentence.
Shane Weldon’s tour as chief of the astronaut office had ended a year after he made the painful but inevitable decision to replace Zack with Travis Buell. Buell’s subsequent behavior on the first landing had contributed to Weldon’s change of job—NASA management was equally split between those who blamed Weldon for putting a hothead like Buell in such a visible position and those who thought him a managerial genius and patriot.
Moving him to mission operations made both sides happy. It was a promotion that put Weldon on a path to be head of the Johnson Space Center some day, and it also got him out of day-to-day personnel decisions.
Or so it said on the job description. In truth, Weldon, like the true bureaucratic master he was becoming, never let go of reins he once held. It was said in Building 4-South that not one of the new chief astronaut’s crew selections was final until Shane Weldon signed off.
Powerful or not, Weldon’s office was strictly government issue, part of a suite surrounding a central reception area occupied by three assistants, one of whom, the ancient Kerrie Kyle, nodded Zack to a couch. “Shane’s usually in by now.” Workdays at JSC ran from eight to four, if not earlier. Weldon’s absence was unusual enough that when he did show up—fifteen minutes later—Zack had to tease him. “Sleeping in these days?”
“Nice to see you, too,” Weldon said. “Come in.”
Zack followed him into his office, which was dominated by pictures and models of aircraft and spacecraft Weldon had flown—and a huge astronomical image of Keanu so new that it was resting on a chair. “You can move that,” Weldon said, realizing it was where a guest would sit.
“It’s fine where it is,” Zack said.
Weldon had been on his way to his seat. Instead he remained standing while opening his laptop. “Out with it.”
Zack felt like a ten-year-old selling chocolate bars for a school project. “Well, this might be above my pay grade, but if it’s true that Brahma is heading for a landing on Keanu, I think we ought to divert Destiny-7 there, too.” An old Michigan phrase came to him. “It’s time for Operation Welcome Wagon.”
“Why do you care if we
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