—I didn’t do anything, Mother. The sun has to be really low for us to see it, but it’s just… there.
—This is fascinating.
—It’s just a ball, Mother.
—What does it do?
—Beep-beep.
—I do not under—
—That’s what it does. It sends radio signals. We can listen to it at home if you want.
—What else does it do?
—Nothing else. It’s a silver ball that goes beep-beep.
SEN. GEORGE SMATHERS (D.): “Government ineptness, smugness have produced false sense of security. The President says we aren’t competing with Russia on satellites. But we cannot afford to be second best; the stakes are our survival.”
HARRY STINE, a rocketeer fired from Martin Co. for speaking out: “Russia listens to men with vision. But we lost five years because no one would heed rocket men. We’re a smug, arrogant people who just sat dumb, fat and happy, underestimating Russia.”
—Who knows, Mia? Perhaps that silver ball will spin its way into the collective consciousness and get people thinking about space. Regardless, there is a machine orbiting Earth and my daughter put it there. You should be proud of yourself.
—I suppose I am.
—You have lost a lot, Mia, but that does not take away from what you have accomplished. That rocket of yours will put a man in space.
—You really think so?
—I know it.
—I really wanted to see it launch.
—Close your eyes and see it now. Watch your rocket soar. Hear it growl as it plays its tug-of-war with Earth. I am there with you, all of us are. A hundred generations are watching. This is as high as we have ever gone, as close to the stars as we have ever been.
U.S. reaction to Sputnik, which is Russian for “fellow traveler,” took many forms. To calm customers’ nerves bartenders concocted Sputnik cocktails with vodka as the base….
Underneath the levity the U.S. was plainly worried. President Eisenhower said, in reassurance, that the U.S. satellite would be better scientifically than Sputnik. But Sputnik proved that there were great military, as well as scientific, advances in the U.S.S.R. Getting their heavy satellite up meant that Russia had developed a more powerful rocket than any the U.S. has yet fired and substantiated Soviet claims of success with an intercontinental missile.
53
Great Balls of Fire
—I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve seen plenty of launch failures, but this was epic. The rocket eked its way a few inches from the ground, and then it gave up and went down in a blaze of national humiliation.
Rockets are the last thing I want to think about, but this was national television. The American response to Sputnik. I had to watch.
—That was your doing, Mia.
—What are you talking about? I didn’t blow up their rocket. They did that all by themselves.
—But you did. The Americans were so stunned by your satellite, they rushed to launch anything of their own. They chose a rocket that was not ready. This was supposed to be a test, but they were stupid enough to add a small satellite to the payload. The press was all over it.
—I’m sure it had something to do with Korolev doubling down and sending a dog up there.
—Perhaps. That seemed cruel, if I may say so.
He barely waited a month before launching another satellite. That one did more than beep-beep. It had actual instruments. And a dog.
—Let’s not talk about dogs, Mother.
—We could not take Tsygan with us, Mia. We have discussed this a thousand times.
I don’t know why I’m still mad, but I am. That was two years ago, but I still imagine her waiting by the door. Poor thing.
—I said let’s not talk about it.
—The point I was trying to make is that this… catastrophe works to our advantage. The New York Times is calling it a “blow to US prestige.”
—Ha! That wasn’t a blow, Mother, that was twenty thousand pounds of American pride going up in flames.
—“Spectators on nearby beaches gasped in awe and dismay as the orange blaze seethed up against a clear blue sky. Within seconds of the outburst, the flame changed to brown-black smoke. This spread into a crudely shaped mass that rapidly dissipated in the morning breeze.” There is a certain elegance to the prose.
—I’ve read it. I almost feel bad for the guy in charge. He said something about it being a success.
—He did. “‘It was a real successful operation in terms of keeping things running smoothly. Toward the close and a little later, this rocket was flying. It wasn’t a long flight—but it was flying.’”
—Ouch.
—This is my personal favorite: “There was some doubt that the disaster ought to be technically described as an explosion. He substituted ‘rapid burning.’”
—It was rapid. That was the biggest ball of fire I’ve ever seen in my life! The press has some interesting names for it. Flopnik, Kaputnik, Oopsnik.
—Your rocket has given us the race we wanted.
I think Mother is exaggerating, but I’m glad if this means rocket science becomes more than a military contest.
—Do you think they’ll give von Braun his chance now that the Vanguard failed?
—They already have. The Vanguard launchpad was severely damaged and it is the only one they have. They are going to use his Jupiter-C rocket to send their satellite up. Von Braun promised the army he could launch in sixty days. They gave him ninety.
—Ninety days! That’s nuts!
—He could use some assistance.
—From me? I don’t—
—It is time, Mia.
—I’m sorry, Mother. I can’t.
I wish I could. I just… Mother wants me to move on. She wants me to have another child. I don’t know that I can do either. My insides were ripped to shreds when I fell off that platform. Mother said we’ve always been fast healers. Maybe. We did survive a lot worse, if we are to believe our journals. Lost limbs, punctured hearts. The Thirty-Three had her right leg replaced with a metal one, as I recall. She rode a horse with it.
Even if I could get pregnant, I don’t know that I want to. My daughter’s dead. I won’t… replace her. Besides, I can’t lose Mother now, trade her life for another. I can’t be responsible for her life, or my child’s, or the lives of a hundred fucking more of us. I don’t know if this is mourning, but whatever it is, I’m not done yet.
54
Milord
—They’re building rockets, Leonard.
—Who is?
—Oh, Brother. You do realize it was a launch platform you kicked the daughter off, don’t you?
—I didn’t think she’d fall off the damn thing! I just meant to knock her out.
—We have had this discussion many times, Leonard. I am not having it again. I was merely pointing out it was a launch platform you FUCKING KICKED HER OFF!
—I know what it was!
—Good. Hence, they’re building rockets.
—The daughter was working there. That doesn’t mean they—
—Oh, but it does. It most certainly does.
—The girl is dead, Charles. Her mother could be a chef for all we know.
—Think, Leonard. They lived in Germany before the war. Name one thing that the Germans were good at?
—Beer? Automobiles?
—I found out the daughter was in Bleicherode in ’45. Do you know who else was in Bleicherode in ’45? Rocket scientists, hundreds of them. Care to guess where some of these people ended up after the war?