"To continue," he said, returning to his normal tone, "There have been those that have opposed us throughout this project. I have been called a traitor, a lunatic, a terrorist, and many mixtures of the three. This opposition will not stop, nor will their attempts to stop us. Some will oppose us because they are in positions of power, and see us as a threat to that power. Some oppose us because they believe that the quest for space is consuming resources needed on Earth. Others oppose us because we have no 'official sanction'; we have no government sponsor to be 'responsible' for us. Some even oppose us for religious reasons. Tomorrow's newspapers will blare that I'm planning to 'steal' an asteroid for profit, or that I'm planning to ram it into the Earth and recreate the catastrophe that destroyed the dinosaurs.
"But please, allow me to tell you the real reason I'm doing this. The real reason I have gone to such extremes to avoid government entanglements.
"It has been theorized that in the development of any sentient species, there appear 'windows of opportunity'; periods of time in which certain developments must occur, or the species is doomed. I believe we are in such a window now.
"At present, mankind is restricted to one small planet. Humanity could be completely destroyed by another large asteroid impact. But I believe that man has a bigger destiny than that. I believe that man must develop the ability to travel in space, and he must do it now.
"And I do not mean a few up-and-down orbital trips, or a few days on the moon, or hooking a few tin cans together and calling it a 'space station'. I mean the ability to move easily within our solar system. If we can establish colonies in space or on other planets, Mankind will have passed another hurdle. No single cataclysm could destroy us.
"Our window opened in 1957, when the Soviet Union launched Sputnik. It will close when man can no longer devote the necessary resources to the project. If we allow this window to close, ladies and gentlemen, someday the last man or woman will die of starvation on his worn-out planet. It may not be for thousands of years, but if this window closes, man's doom is sealed.
"But if we can jump through this window, mankind has an opportunity to go on to fulfill whatever destiny he can imagine.
"This is why I'm doing this, and why I'm doing it this way. Ladies and Gentlemen, this will not be an American mission, or a Russian mission, or a Brazilian mission, or even my mission, although I hope to recoup much of my investment from the orbiting asteroid. This mission is my legacy to mankind. This is Man's mission!" Again, he was forced to wait for the shouts and cheers to subside.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to ask Ms. Susan Andrews to formally christen the ship that will bring us the stars!"
Susan picked up the bottle of champagne, and placed a microphone on her dress. She stepped forward, and swung the bottle. "I christen thee . . . MAN'S HOPE!" The last, the name of the ship, was a shout as the bottle shattered, but she was unprepared for the huge roar of shouting, cheers, and applause that erupted in response. The pandemonium showed no signs of subsiding for more than ten minutes.
Finally, Frank again stepped forward, as the hubbub slowly died. "I should mention that Man's Hope has a sister ship." He said. "She's not yet ready to fly, and perhaps she won't, for awhile. But I wanted to let you know there is also a Man's Dream.
"But now, it's time to introduce the brave crew who has volunteered for this incredible adventure. They are planning to risk their lives, and to spend the next three years of them crammed into a tiny tin can, or sealed into an icy cave, to help pursue Man's Hope.
"The Buran was designed for two pilots and up to six 'passengers', in a compartment directly beneath the pilot's cabin. We have two pilots and four 'passengers' – except that none of them are passengers, they are crew members, and the mission cannot succeed without them."
He nodded, and David began climbing the ladder. "It is appropriate," Frank said, "that the Commander of this mission be the man with the original dream. Ladies and gentlemen, David Tarrant, U.S. Air Force, retired, and a former Shuttle astronaut."
David reached the platform, stepped forward, and waved, grinning. Frank had been forced to promise David that he would not have to say anything in order to get him up there.
"The Deputy Commander is also experienced in space. Yuri Kozunov, Colonel of the Federal Russian Air Force, retired, and International Space Station cosmonaut." Yuri was tall, slim, and sandy-haired. His smile and wave were tentative, and he hurriedly stepped back.
"Dr. Raoul Jerroult, of France, is a psychologist and medical doctor. On a three-year mission, his skills will be invaluable." Raoul was short and rather pudgy, with a large, ready smile.
"Ronald Mbele, of Kenya, is a mechanical engineer, and will be responsible for maintaining and servicing Man's Hope." Ron was a tall man whose scarred face testified to his tribal heritage. He was an Engineer, but mostly, he was a tinkerer, and seemed able to fix anything mechanical with a toothpick and a piece of wire.
"Yoichiro Kuzuki, from Japan, is an Electrical engineer, and a master electronics technician. He will be responsible for Man's Hope's electronics, computer, and communications systems." The small, thin man stepped forward and bowed, unsmiling.
"And finally, Rodolfo Ancara, from Brazil. Rodolfo is an astronomer and a space scientist. He will be our navigator and Communications Officer." Rodolfo, or 'Dolf', was a handsome, dark-haired man of medium height. David said Dolf was so pretty that if you looked up 'gigolo' in the dictionary, you would find his picture.
Frank did not enjoy public speaking before large groups any more than David did. Once the introductions were complete, he simply said, "That concludes our ceremonies, ladies and gentlemen. I will be available for my scheduled interviews starting in half an hour." He plucked the microphone from his lapel, and led Susan down the ladder.
There was a crowd waiting at the bottom, but he escaped by claiming he must attend the President. He found the President in conversation is Dolf Ancara, with both of them jabbering away merrily in Portuguese. The President smiled at Frank and slipped easily into English.
"Quite a show you put on, Senhor Weatherly," said the President. "I was not aware that one of your astronauts was Brazilian."
Frank shrugged and smiled. "We didn't announce the selections until yesterday," he said. "We had over a hundred candidates." His smile faded. "Please do not assume that Dolf was selected because he is Brazilian. We used dossiers without names or nationalities, and selected by majority vote by number."
"By the way, sir," he added, "We have agreed not to use the terms 'astronaut' or 'cosmonaut'; too many nationalistic connotations. We hope they will be the first of many thousands, of both sexes. So we merely call them 'Spacers'."
They chatted for a few more minutes before the President was drawn away to talk with his many well-wishers. Frank turned to Dolf. "I have to go be interviewed, Dolf. Would you please attend the President? If he wants a tour, show him everything. Nothing is off limits to the President, Okay"?
Dolf smiled. "You got it, boss. Even the uh . . ." he whirled a finger in the air.
Frank smiled. "Especially that. I told him I expected to get one. If we try to hide it, he'll know it. It's important to me that he knows we'll be completely honest with him."
Dolf nodded, and headed off toward the group around the President. Frank had to head in the other direction. He had an appointment, and he was late. He had promised the 'friendly' reporters and the 'friendly' newspapers that each of them would get a personal, "exclusive" interview. They were scheduled for fifteen minutes, every twenty minutes.