Back to the Moon-ARC

Chapter 7

Paul Gesling was glad to be back in Nevada and away from his metaphorical near-death experience at the hands of CEO Gary Childers in Kentucky. The desert was familiar territory and one in which he felt perfectly at home. And he also preferred being on the “engineering” side of the massive facility and not the “passenger training” side. He wasn’t due to be there with the whiny rich brats, aka customers, until tomorrow.

Gesling, like most Americans, had watched the moderately publicized landing of NASA’s Altair the day before with a mixture of amazement and disappointment. Amazement at what humans could accomplish when challenged and that we were finally on our way back to the Moon. Disappointment with the time it took for America to get back to where it was in 1972. Overall, the landing was flawless—except that there were no human astronauts on board. That in itself was a big enough flaw to keep people from tuning in. Americans, hell, the rest of humanity, could not care less about another robot probe sending back video images of a place that it seemed nobody would ever set foot on. On the other hand, playing it up as the precursor to the very near manned flight did spark some optimism around the country. At least it boosted Paul’s flagging enthusiasm about what he and his crew were soon to accomplish themselves. They were about to take five paying customers on nearly a weeklong fly-around of the Moon. It was to be their own Apollo 8 moment.

He was on his way to a press briefing. The NASA unmanned Moon landing had boosted interest in all things space related, and Space Excursions was high on the list of many reporters for that “next day” follow-up story.

Gesling walked into the conference room that had been modified to accommodate the press and was immediately startled by the number of reporters there. He had expected maybe ten or twelve, most of them local, but the room was packed with what he quickly estimated to be fifty or more. There was standing room only in the drab tan-paneled makeshift press room. He recognized the big names like CNN, Fox News, and the networks, but there were others: China Daily, the London Times, and the Times of India, to name a few.

Already at the podium stood Gary Childers and Caroline O’Conner. Kentucky had come to Nevada. Although he wasn’t late, Gesling was the last one to arrive, and he hoped it didn’t leave a bad impression with Childers. He and Childers were on shaky enough ground as it was. Paul walked briskly to the front of the room and stood behind and to the left of his boss.

“So, as we can all see,” Childers said, “our brilliant captain has arrived, and so I’ll turn this over to him.” Childers motioned at Gesling to step up to the podium.

“Ahem.” Paul cleared his throat to buy some time so that he could remember what he had planned to say. “Good morning. Thanks for your interest in Space Excursions. I’m sure we all saw NASA put on quite a show yesterday by landing the Altair on the lunar surface.” There were sounds of affirmation, some heads nodding, but there was little in the way of enthusiastic applause—typical reaction from a press corps only interested in drama to sell advertising time.

“We’re very pleased with our nation’s success and look forward to seeing the test flight successfully completed. That said, we’re gonna beat ’em to the punch. And”—Paul paused for his own dramatic emphasis—“we’re gonna do it with people. Real live human beings that are customers who paid to train and become astronauts.” Despite what some bloggers had to say, Paul and Childers and the rest of the company did not view the government’s space endeavors as competition, and he only wished them well. Hell, Childers had originally begged NASA to sell them a seat on their mission, but NASA had for all its existence resisted sponsorship and commercialization. The original space tourists used Russian flights. The Russians understood capitalism, or at least commercialism, better than NASA. That was a funny bit of historical irony in Paul’s mind. But in the end it came down to dollars. Space Excursions was in the business of making money and commercializing space. It was the government’s job to explore and do the costly endeavors of space science. It was industry’s job to follow and turn the public investment into profit through commercialization wherever it could.

“So, you’re all here to learn about our company, Space Excursions, and we’re here to answer whatever questions you may have.

“As Mr. Childers said, I am Captain Paul Gesling. I’m a former Navy pilot, and thanks to Mr. Childers I am proud to have been chosen to be the captain and pilot of Dreamscape for its maiden voyage to the Moon.”

“There isn’t a person I trust more with my ship than Paul Gesling,” Childers interjected. From the press’s point of view, these two appeared to be more like brothers separated at birth instead of a boss and his employee—especially not a boss and employee just past a rough patch in their working relationship.

Childers then launched into a short history of the company. He explained why he had founded it and how it was going to revolutionize and commercialize space exploration. He took a couple of questions and then gave the floor back to Gesling. “And now, I’ll let Paul explain a little bit about Dreamscape and how he’s going to get our customers to the Moon and back again. Paul?”

Gesling stepped back to the podium and promptly picked up the telescoping aluminum pointer Caroline had made sure was ready for him. Though not technophobic, Gesling very much preferred the solid aluminum pointer to its jittery laser cousin. He never trusted that those darned things were eye-safe. He then picked up the remote control from beneath the podium and turned on the projection system.

Immediately behind him, the projection wall came to life with an image of the Dreamscape on a runway. The camera’s view was from a helicopter that circled the parked space plane to allow viewing from several angles. Paul tapped the screen, pointing out parts of the spacecraft as he talked.

“Dreamscape itself is the reusable-spaceship part of a two-stage-to-orbit rocket. The first stage of the rocket is a supersonic combustion ramjet, or scramjet. Based on the technology work conducted by NASA through the early 2000s, Space Excursions picked up where NASA left off and perfected the technology. Lifting off from the Nevada spaceport, test flights of the scramjet first stage reached upwards of twelve times the speed of sound, flying to successful landings at Space Excursions’ alternate landing site in Australia in just under two hours. Instead of carrying both rocket fuel and oxidizer, as do most conventional chemical rockets, a scramjet scoops oxygen—hence the term oxidizer—from the atmosphere to mix with the propellant to make the rocket go. Without having to carry all that heavy oxidizer, the rocket is much lighter and very, very efficient.”

The image behind him came to life with a video of the Dreamscape flying indescribably fast from one end of the frame to another. The video appeared to have been shot from a chase plane that was quickly left behind by the supersonic Dreamscape.

“Instead of having to be carried to a high altitude and using rockets to achieve high airspeeds before the scramjet begins operating, as was the limitation of the NASA design, Space Excursions found a way to throttle the engine at low airspeeds. Our design begins flight as a conventional jet aircraft, starting its journey from a dead stop in the Nevada desert. Once airborne and above twenty thousand feet, the scramjet fires and our ride to orbit begins.”

Another video began to play at this point. Clearly an animation, the video showed the separation of the Dreamscape from its scramjet first stage and its ascent into space.

“This is where the fun begins.” Gesling was clearly in his element and enjoying every minute at the podium. “At an altitude of about twenty miles and a speed of Mach twelve, the rocket engines on the Dreamscape will ignite, pulling the passenger-carrying rocket away from its scramjet first stage and into a trajectory that will take it to a three-hundred-mile low Earth orbit. That’s just above the altitude of things like the International Space Station and low-flying satellites. Following in the footsteps of Virgin Galactic and doing it one better, we’ve already taken flights not only into space, but also into orbit—a much harder task. Getting into space is comparatively easy. Accelerating to the orbital velocity of seventeen thousand miles per hour is another task altogether. And Dreamscape’s two stages accomplish this nicely.”

The animation continued. Seemingly floating high above the Earth, the Dreamscape maneuvered close to a large cylinder that was also in Earth orbit. As Gesling resumed speaking, the two were moving close together.

“Once in Earth orbit, the Dreamscape docks with a fuel tank launched by an unmanned rocket to refuel. After tanking up, the Dreamscape again lights its engines and begins its journey to the Moon.”

The video at this point shifted to the interior of the vehicle, showing a computer-animated crew cabin and then the small passenger compartment. Sitting in what appeared to be tailor-made and very comfortable seats were five passengers eagerly looking out the windows and into space. One of the passengers unclipped from his seat at this point and pushed off to experience zero gravity.

“Well, I think we need to tell our passengers they cannot float around while the engines are firing. I don’t believe Newton would be too happy. I’m sure our movie animators will be trained better if they ever get to go on a flight.” The remark received a few chuckles, but some of those chuckling didn’t really understand why it would be funny—just that floating around while firing rocket engines was somehow bad and that it had something to do with rocket science. “There will be ample time for our passengers to experience weightlessness during their six-day trip to the Moon and back.

“Our trajectory will put us on a course to pass around the far side of the Moon and then return to the Earth. We’ll come within sixty-five miles of the Moon. And our passengers will have one heck of a view!

“From that distance, this is what the Moon will look like to them. And as they swing around the Moon, this is how small the Earth will appear.” The video showed animated craters and mountains in amazing computer-graphic detail. In the distance was a small blue and white beauty—Earth. The video then shifted to more scientific details and illustrated the Earth-Moon system, showing the Dreamscape’s trajectory as a dotted line from the Earth, around and behind the Moon, and then back to the Earth. The final frames showed the ship entering the Earth’s atmosphere and gliding to a landing at the Nevada Spaceport, changing almost seamlessly from the in-space animation to video shot of an actual Dreamscape landing.

Gesling placed the pointer on the podium, still fully extended, in case he needed to pick it up again during the question-and-answer period. He picked it back up but then realized he was fidgeting with his hands. Flying in space didn’t make him nervous at all. In fact, it pleased and excited him. The damned press, on the other hand…

The reporter from CNN was the first with his hand up. Paul nodded to him.

“You are charging your customers twenty-five million dollars per seat—that’s only one hundred twenty-five million total for the trip. Yet NASA is spending billions of dollars for its landing mission. Why such a big difference? How are you able to do so much yet charge your customers so little?”

Childers motioned to Gesling and O’Conner that he wanted to answer this one, and he stepped up with a smile on his face.

“Well, there are really two reasons for this. First, the American dollar has rebounded in the last decade from the economic recession of the decade before. Had we done this ten years ago, the price would have been double or maybe triple the cost. And because we’re using technology that NASA already developed, we don’t have to pay as much to develop our own. Did I say two reasons? Okay, really three. The first few flights don’t have to make money. It is no secret that I have money. Lots of money. I’m rich, and I choose to spend my money underwriting the company and its bottom line. We’ve got a solid business plan that will result in us making back my investment and then some. It just won’t happen during the first few years of operation. But in ten years, when we are ready to make our first landing on the Moon, charging one hundred million per seat, we’ll be turning a hefty profit for our major investors—and that is mostly me. So you see, I plan to make more money off this little adventure.”

“Mr. Childers! Mike Mahan, Fox News. What about the risk? NASA is conducting a robotic test run before sending any people. So far, it looks like it is going well. Aren’t you taking a big risk by not doing something similar? What if you lost a crew?”

“We will have one more test flight. It will be orbital. We’re going to go through all the steps up to departing for the Moon. But the real answer to this one is directly related to the first question. If we were to make Dreamscape robotic, not only would Captain Gesling be out of a job, but it would have perhaps doubled our development costs. No, we’ve flown people to orbit and kept them there for longer than this Moon trip will take. We know how the ship will respond, and she’s well designed. We also know that we will take advantage of something called ‘Lunar Free Return,’ which will pretty much guarantee that the ship and her passengers will come home—just like NASA did on Apollo 13. We’re managing the risks, and my customers will be safe and have one fantastic vacation—providing the laws of physics remain as they always have.” Childers spoke with confidence and authority and a tinge of humor in his voice. And he believed what he was saying as he said it through a toothy smile.

The next half hour or so of the press conference was filled with questions about the training of the passengers and the various regulatory hurdles Space Excursions had had to overcome in order to send people to the Moon independently of any government. Childers fielded most of them, leaving only the technical questions for Gesling to answer. Near the end of the allotted time, the reporter from the China Daily raised his hand.

“Mr. Childers. Mr. Childers, please. Does not your company do business with NASA and the U.S. Department of Defense? Is not the reason you’re not concerned with making money because they are, in fact, paying for this mission as part of an American attempt to secure the Moon and the mineral resources there for itself? Are you not a front for the American government under the guise of commercialism?”

Childers, Gesling, and the unflappable Caroline O’Conner were all taken aback by this one. They weren’t certain if the man was serious or some sort of nut. Both O’Conner and Gesling looked to Childers to respond. And respond he did. Paul smiled at the fire in his boss’s voice.

“With all due respect, my company is my company. Yes, we do business for NASA and for other agencies within the U.S. government. They, like the Dreamscape passengers, are my customers. All of this is public knowledge, and I am proud of what we do and for whom we do it. Yes, I have government contracts. But they don’t come close to paying for this spacecraft. Hell, the government cost me more damned money in legal issues than building that space rocket!”

He calmed down a little and continued. “There is no conspiracy surrounding what we do nor with this trip. It is what it is. I’m in business to make money and give my customers one hell of a ride. I hope that answers your question, and, as far as I am concerned, this news conference is over.”

With that, Childers walked from the stage, still clearly agitated by the last question. Childers was more agitated, in fact, than Gesling would have thought possible.

“Damn,” Paul leaned toward O’Conner and whispered. “What’s up with that?” Gesling was surprised that a question most in the room would consider balderdash would get such a response from Childers—perhaps giving it more credibility than it deserved.

“Search me,” O’Conner responded with a shrug as she moved toward the podium to more formally close out the news conference. “I don’t know, but I need to wrap this up on a more positive note or that will be the question everyone here will remember—and we clearly don’t want that being the sound bite on tonight’s news!”

I dunno, I kinda liked it. Shows we’ve got balls, Paul thought to himself. If he’d been holding the pointer, he could have smacked it in his hands like a billy club for effect. He stood sternly anyway and glared with a slight grin at the press members—the boss’s enforcer. He decided then and there that he liked Childers and had every intention of keeping his job and his boss happy, no matter how annoying the passengers got.