Ling ignored the video screen of the Zenit at the launch tower and instead stared at a computer display of critical measurements as the final seconds of the launch countdown ticked toward zero. At T-1 second, a row of green lights burst onto the screen and Ling allowed himself a slight breath of relief.
“We have main engine thrust up!” he shouted aloud as the display told him the computers were ramping up the rocket's RD-171 engine to maximum launch thrust. Every eye in the room turned to the video screen as the propellant floodgates were opened and the fuel burst through the rocket's engine in a torrent. For a long second, the rocket sat still on the pad as the fiery exhaust burst from its nozzles, the flames licking the water deluge and spraying a thick cloud of white smoke beneath the platform. Then, with a burgeoning burst of power, the Zenit surged up off the pad. The launch tower clamps fell away as the white rocket, erupting with 1.8 million pounds of thrust, climbed up past the tower and into the sky with a blinding glare and deafening roar.
A cheer rang through the launch control center as the engineers watched the Zenit rise successfully off the platform. Ling broke into a broad smile as the rocket climbed higher, grinning good-naturedly at Tongju. Kang's henchman simply nodded back in satisfaction.
At the far side of the bay, the bespectacled engineer who monitored the platform continued to stare mesmerized at the video image of the rocket as it climbed into the crisp blue sky. Oblivious to him was the computation on his computer monitor, which showed that the platform stabilization deviation had continued to rise, creeping past fifteen degrees in the last seconds prior to launch.
Fifteen feet beneath the water's surface, Pitt's ears were bleeding from the acoustical barrage. What started with the sound of a distant freight train had rumbled into the bombardment of a thousand erupting volcanoes as the Zenit's engine reached full thrust. The deafening sound, Pitt knew, was only a warning of the real savagery to come. The building force of the rocket's exhaust was deflected into the flame trench, where thousands of gallons of water dampened the inferno. The blasting force of the exhaust was little repressed, however, gathering into a steaming cloud of fury that proceeded past the deflectors to the open sea below the platform, where it pounded the water like a sledgehammer.
Positioned almost directly beneath the launchpad, the Badger was pummeled like a small toy, surging twenty feet down in a blast of bubbles and vapor. Pitt felt as if he were trapped in a washing machine as the submersible was tossed violently about. The seams of the vessel twisted and groaned from the force of the surge and the interior lights flickered from the shaking. A loose battery pack bounced off Pitt's head, gashing his temple as the submersible nearly turned turtle in the bellowing turbulence. Shaking off the blow, he discovered a new worry when he braced a hand against the bulkhead during a side roll. To his surprise, the bulkhead was searing hot. He quickly pulled his hand away, cursing as he shook it in the air to cool. A sickening thought drew over him as he felt a heavy mist of sweat dripping down his forehead and realized the water sloshing at his feet was rapidly warming. The rocket's exhaust was creating a boiling tempest around him, which might poach him alive before the rocket cleared the platform.
A second, more powerful surge stuck the submersible as the rocket's full thrust came to bear. The force of the current pushed the Badger charging through the water in a contorted angle, nearly on its side. Pitt clung to the controls for balance, unable to see ahead through the turbulent water, which offered no visibility. Had he an inkling where the submersible was headed, he might have braced himself for the impact. But the collision came without warning.
Ripping with the surge like a raft down the Colorado River, the submersible tore head-on into the side of the Odyssey's flooded port pontoon. A metallic clap thundered through the water as the submersible smacked against the immovable hull. Pitt was jerked from the pilot's seat and flung against the forward bulkhead amid a rain of loosened electronic debris as the interior lights fell black and a series of hissing sounds erupted throughout the compartment. A grinding noise told Pitt that the Badger was sliding along the pontoon until another clang erupted and the submersible tilted over to one side and jerked to a sudden stop. As Pitt collected his senses, he realized that the submersible was wedged against the platform hull from the force of the rushing water, perhaps entangled in one of the pontoon's drive propellers. Turned on its side against the huge pontoon, there was no way that Pitt could open the entry hatch, dare he try to flood the interior and escape to the surface. With a sickening awe, he realized that if he wasn't soon baked alive he would face a swift death by drowning trapped inside the leaking submersible.
Six thousand miles away, Kang smiled weakly as he watched a satellite feed of the rocket bursting off the deck of the Odyssey.
“We have opened the genie's bottle,” he said quietly to Kwan, sitting across his desk. “Let us hope he follows his master's wishes.”
Tongju watched intently as the Zenit climbed up past the launch tower with a thundering reverberation that could be felt even inside the bowels of the Koguryo's control center. A lingering applause still rang through the control center as the jubilant launch crew cheered the rocket's ascent. Ling afforded himself a wide smile as the computer display told him that the Zenit's engine was operating at full thrust. He peered at Tongju, who returned the glance by nodding tight-lipped in approval.
“The mission is still far from over,” Ling said, visibly relieved that the rocket was finally under way. But the riskiest phase of the mission was behind them now, he knew. Once the rocket was ignited, he had little control, if any, over the outcome of the mission. With a quiet uneasiness, he settled in as a spectator to monitor the balance of the flight.
From the cockpit of the Icarus, Al, Dirk, and Jack watched with dread as the blast of the rocket shook across the open sea. Just seconds before, Giordino had eased the struggling airship down onto a flat clearing atop Santa Barbara Island, where the relieved Sea Launch crew quickly jumped out of the overcrowded gondola. Captain Chris-tiano hesitated at the cockpit doorway, stopping to shake hands.
“Thank you for saving my crew,” Christiano said through a grim face pained with disgrace for losing command of the Odyssey.
“Now that we can get airborne again, we'll make sure they don't get away,” Dirk replied with shared anger. He then pointed out the cockpit windshield toward an approaching blue dot on the horizon.
“The Deep Endeavor's on her way. Get your men down to the shoreline and prepare to transfer aboard.”
Christiano nodded then stepped off the gondola, leaving it empty save for Jack.
“All ashore,” he uttered into the cockpit.
“Then let's get this gasbag back into the sky,” Giordino grunted, turning the propeller ducts upward and advancing the throttles. With roughly eight thousand pounds of human cargo suddenly off-loaded, the blimp rose easily into the air. As Giordino aimed the airship back toward the Odyssey, their eyes collectively caught the first billows of smoke that indicated the launch was initiated.
The fuming exhaust of the burning liquid oxygen and kerosene propellant bursting against the platform's water dampener system created a massive white cloud of vapor that quickly enveloped the entire platform and surrounding sea. For what seemed like minutes, the Zenit stood still at the launch tower. To the men in the airship, there was a hopeful moment where it appeared that the rocket was not going to leave the pad, but finally the tall white rocket began to rise, its blinding exhaust glaring like a fireball. Even a half-dozen miles across the water, they could hear the sharp crackling sound of the combusting fuel as the hot explosive thrust met the cool surrounding air, creating the echo of an ax ripping through a pine log.