The four miles were covered in less than 20 minutes, and they had to shoot the lock off the main gate and drive over it where it stood— frozen in a couple of feet of snow. Inside the observatory compound, the drifts were more than two feet deep and the snowplow had to move slowly to stop from covering them all with the fine powder.
The parking lock was empty except for Lee’s old car still sitting where he had left it and just barely visible from under a pile of snow. The whole place was closed down for the holidays. They drove up to the observatory building and the door was locked. Lee brought out keys and within seconds the door squeaked open, still frozen from the icy wind. It was cold inside, very cold. There was no electricity and immediately Carlos went around to the rear of the building and tried to start the big generator—the observatory’s main backup system. The modern generator was also dead to the world. He then helped the men lift the lawn tractor generator they had brought. It was light enough for four men to lift and place the green four-wheeler by the outer door. One man started it and let it warm up.
Carlos then picked up the long, thick extension cord he had brought with them, and within ten minutes had it mated into the building’s main circuitry. He first made sure to turn off all the unnecessary switches that he knew they wouldn’t be using and shouted for the men to connect the power and engage the generator on-switch that Preston had built. He flicked the main electrical switch to “On” and several of the lights blinked on. He heard the growl of the generator deepen outside as it accepted the added feed.
Once the generator was warmed up and fully operational, Carlos walked over and checked the telescope, hitting the switch to power it up and move it. The large telescope creaked and then hummed as it activated itself very slowly. It worked! He tried to start his computer, but it was as dead as he knew it would be. He opened the side of the PC and took out several parts—parts he knew were useless. He had modified his own computer over time and it was very different from the average computers sold in stores since it was tweaked to his needs. He had replaced most of the parts, and he knew that without all the modern parts “Made in China” it should work.
It took an hour of messing around, but he switched it on and the “On” light lit up. He went through the rest of the observatory’s computer system so that they could begin transmitting signals to and from space. The old observatory system was much like the ham radios—30 years old—but had new modifications installed over time. He removed most of the modified parts and replaced the older parts found in the storage room. Carlos hoped the computers would start on his first try. They didn’t, however, and he spent another hour working on the electronics. Lee brought him a warm cup of water with a tea bag in it.
“Have you changed the communications oscillator from automatic to manual mode and the output and input DOS regulators to manual override?” Lee asked. Carlos looked at him with an open mouth.
“You know about oscillators and DOS regulators?” he asked, his face incredulous. Carlos was shocked. How did this Chinese janitor know about advanced computer electronics? “How do you know that?”
“I have Ph.D.s like you, friend Carlos. Maybe they are 30 years old, but I read to keep up with the modern advancements in electrical engineering and astronomical engineering, and I have often used the telescope when I was alone in here. I can give you a hand since my old-fashioned knowledge is perfect for what you are trying to modify, and maybe a little more experienced than your younger knowledge. Together we can get this thing working.” Carlos looked at him, still in shock and with his mouth open as he stared at the older man and then moved out of the way for Lee Wang to sit down.
It took Lee only minutes to remove parts and set up the commands of the system. A little work with a soldering iron and he asked Carlos to switch it on.
This time, the observatory’s main computer system lit up and the system worked, although it was extremely slow and the only working screen showed DOS characters. The modern screen was back in DOS mode and Carlos looked at Lee again and connected the two computers together. The telescope and its now simplified computerized system suddenly managed to transmit to Carlos’ computer. They were in business.
“We need to talk, friend,” Carlos said seriously as he looked for his notepad. It took him several pages, but he found the location of Navistar P and typed it into the computer. The whole system took a while to calculate the input with the computer thinking like an old man playing chess but slowly the transmitter attached to the telescope moved, as it was ordered to by the computer, and then stopped.
Carlos typed in the satellite’s call sign code he had written down on his pad and pushed the “Send” button. Nothing happened for several long seconds. The screen’s DOS cursor just blinked back at him, but suddenly Navistar P asked him if he wanted it to turn on.
“Nothing four Ph.D.s, an old man, and a young man couldn’t handle,” smiled Lee Wang. “If I remember my studies over the last three years here, this one might work like the Chinese communication satellites up there.”
“How many do they have?” Carlos asked.
“Several, and I have tracked them and also communicated with them,” replied Lee. Carlos suddenly felt like he was a student and Lee Wang was his teacher!
“Do you have your information here?” Carlos asked. “Of course,” was Lee’s answer. “It is in my head.”
“Let’s see what Navistar P can do first, and then we can check out the opposition,” Carlos said, typing in the command to turn the lost satellite back on. “I’ve just realized that whatever we do, we won’t be able to see the photos the satellite sends us anywhere.”
“Start-up will commence. Time estimated, three minutes,” wrote the cursor on Carlos’ screen.
“If it has digital pictures it can send us, how are we going to see them?” Carlos asked. “I don’t think this DOS screen is going to give us any color photos.”
“I think you are right, but I know what will,” Lee Wang answered, and he was gone.
“Main directory online,” wrote the cursor, and suddenly Carlos knew what this lost satellite was designed to do. There were several sections on the directory:
A. Continuous Feed Photo Display
B. Communication Feed-in
C. Communication Feed Memory Read-out
D. Communication Bounce Angle
E. Automated Setup for Bounce Feed
F. Termination Sequence
G. Deactivation
It was something that shocked him to his core. In the 1970s, the Air Force had actually designed a satellite that could send down continuous photos of Earth, as well as be used as a communications bounce-off system. A signal could be sent to its memory and the computer in the satellite would find the longitude and latitude coordinates of where the sender wanted the message to be relayed, and it would then relay the message. Carlos suddenly figured out how he could set up nationwide communications. It was a shock that they had built this system so early and had never used it. The Air Force had just let it get lost and forgot about it when it went offline.
Lee Wang came back with an old screen and the small computer it sat on. He began to put it together. “This is something that has been forgotten on the other side of the observatory and I think it is an original data-processing PC and terminal from the telescope from the early 1980s. This old piece of machinery was stored behind several more modern ones and I was surprised to find it. It is an Amiga PC computer sold by Commodore in 1985, the newer version of the old Commodore 64 and has better graphics. I studied this when I came over to America. This is the first computer I ever owned, and I pulled it apart and put it together several times. Unfortunately, it is not upgradeable.”