seawasp | FENRIR: Chapter 25

Meanwhile, they had to actually move forward on the ship...

Chapter 25: A Traditional Timetable

Days to Launch: 500

The force of the detonation was like a padded slap over her whole body, but Stephanie's whole attention was focused on the massive cloud of smoke and dust – and on the squat, almost comically-compressed shape emerging from it.

Another flash of detonation followed by shockwave and thunder, and the scale model of Carpathia climbed higher, a squashed-down nosecone atop a broad plate of steel, shock absorbers and springs transferring the tremendous force of the explosions to the pulse-propulsion model to make the main body accelerate steadily. Flash-boom again, and it continued its ascent, straight and steady, unlike some of the old test footage she had seen early on.

It was tiny on the scale of the real Carpathia, but it was still big – several tons of metal, plastic, electronics, and explosive propulsion.

Several more charges sent the miniature Carpathia high into the sky, and then a deliberate shift of angle followed by three more blasts, before a parachute popped out and the model began a slow drift downward. Applause and cheers rose from the two hundred or so spectators, and Stephanie felt a tiny fraction of the weight of worry lift. "That looked really good, York," she said.

"It did indeed. Have to look over the data of course, but stability looked excellent. Took the turn well. Daire Young's team's already building closer-to-accurate models for test once we clear the designs for actual antimatter-mediated detonations."

"We have the clearance to do that? Atomic detonation in atmosphere?"

"President just sent the approval through. Took a lot of arguing even in the Committee, but the clinchers were that we really, really need to know that things like the electrostatic oil jets work, and even more importantly we need data on how much fallout the charges actually produce before we use full-size ones in launch. Once we demonstrate the scalable nuclear charge capability in the tests, that's the next step."

Stephanie glanced towards the horizon, where the detonation tests, codenamed "Boiler Pressure," were being prepared, then behind her, where Carpathia was taking on a titanic, looming reality, gigantic shafts and springs already affixed to the drive plate, other components being steadily added, a skeleton of supports beginning to outline the gargantuan twin of the little test device that was just now reaching the ground. "Still feels unreal to me, sometimes."

"Same here, Director," said Angus Fletcher, squinting out at the recovery team swarming around the test model. "I've designed and supplied custom computer hardware for all sorts of projects, but this?" He shook his head.

"Can't argue," Peter Flint concurred, coming up next to Angus. "Wouldn't trade my place on this project for anything, either."

Seeing the two of them together, Stephanie noted that they were surprisingly similar. Both were tall, spare men with white or near-white hair, in generally good shape even if showing a touch of the extra weight middle-aged men were prone to. Both had hands callused from work, though Peter's showed heavier wear and a few scars around the knuckles, while Angus had little burn marks where the computer and electronics expert had, at one time or another, been touched by solder or other hot materials.

The main differencee were that Peter's face was square and Angus' more long, and Angus tended to the more professional while Peter displayed a "folksy charm" that Stephanie thought had to be at least partially cultivated.

"Definitely not," Angus said in reply to Pete. "I cannot imagine anyone on this project who would. There will never be another like it." He flashed a quick, apologetic grin. "Love to talk, but I've got to get back to it. Really shouldn't have taken the time to watch –"

"More than half the Project turned out to watch," Stephanie said. "We can't pretend most of us aren't in this for the spectacle, too."

Angus' quick laugh had a touch of embarrassment. "No, I suppose we can't. Even the best of us can't resist the lure of a rocket literally blowing itself up to fly." He gave a quick nod. "But I do have to get back. Director, Doctor, Peter – see you later."

Pete also excused himself, and for the next few minutes Stephanie was making her way through the dispersing crowd in a series of greetings, handshakes, bows, or whatever acknowledgement her teammates felt appropriate.

"So, York," she said, the two of them now alone en route to her offices. "What's the chances of success?"

The somewhat-portly scientist was silent for a while. "Better than I would have thought at first," he said finally. "I give us fifty-fifty."

That was a shock to her gut. "That low?"

His laugh was subdued. "That high, you mean. Yes, things have been going pretty well, but…" He shook his head.

"Steph, there are basically two development paths for spaceships. One's the modern NASA approach: test everything, model everything, dozens of times at multiple scales, tweaking and retesting, assembling piece by piece and retesting each time you change something, until finally you've got a ship you figure has a ninety percent or better chance of completing the mission, before you fire up any engines. That takes years to go through, and is damned expensive for any ship, even small ones. It's politically much safer, of course, because NASA or other government projects can't afford too many spectacular failures.

"The other's basically the original method, updated by people like Young. You build lots of versions, change things as you go, and keep testing one after another until you get to one that works. You blow up a lot of prototypes this way, but instead of spending a decade to build each one, you make them incrementally better each time and have several in development at any time – and you of course instrument the living hell out of each one so you get the data you need, even if – and when – they go up in smoke. That's probably cheaper but it still takes time, and only works if your design goal is relatively inexpensive, so that you can afford to build lots of prototypes."

York touched the security pad and opened the door for them. "We can't really use either one. We can't build half a dozen Carpathias and test them to destruction, nor can we take ten years of careful development. We have all the monetary and technical resources we can imagine, but we have only so much time, no possible extensions of the deadline; physics has given us the timeframe and nothing, short of our Fen friends managing to change their orbit on their own, is going to give us any more time. Honestly, we want to beat that timeline so we have some time to work with the Fens and figure out if there's any way to save the ship before everyone gets roasted."

Stephanie frowned. "So… we're kind of trusting to luck?"

"Wouldn't say that in any of your interviews… but yes. We're making probably the largest mobile object ever built by mankind, and certainly – by orders of magnitude – the largest flying object ever built." He chuckled. "Well, ever built by humans; a few more orders of magnitude to go before we get to match Fenrir itself." His expression sobered. "We're going to be using technologies just developed alongside basic designs conceived in the Fifties, throwing them all together with engineering and construction teams from a hundred countries, and apparently with at least one group of organized nutbars dedicated to stopping us any way they can.

"So, yes, we're trusting to luck. Doing the best we can to get luck on our side, but as I said, fifty-fifty that we're going to get her flying in time."

A damn toss of a coin to find out if we can do it? To her surprise, she found herself angry at the thought, not just disappointed, and chewed that over for the few more moments it took to reach her office.

By the time she opened the door, her anger had morphed back to determination. "York," she said.

He heard the tone in her voice. "Yes, Director?"

"We are going to make it one hundred percent," she said, startled by the iron in her own voice. "More, we're going to get it done fast. Cut two weeks off the deadline."

"Steph, we're –"

"I know we're already pushing things. But you know, you're right. We need as much time as we can get at Fenrir. This mission is pointless if we don't get there in time. Oh, the vultures who just want the technology won't care, but dammit, if they're crazy enough to put me in charge, then we're doing this my way – and that means we're going to save our alien visitors, full stop."

She looked up at the photograph of the original Carpathia. "Extra stokers to the boilers," she said. "Damn the saboteurs, full speed ahead."

As they say, go big, or go home.