“Too true,” Brad admitted. Then his smile returned, lighting up his whole face. “But before that, we all get a whole day off for some much-needed R&R.”
“You’re going to show Major Rozek the cultural highlights of Battle Mountain, Nevada?” Vasey guessed, with a dry grin. “But what will you do for the next twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes?”
Nadia laughed. “Oh, we will think of some way to occupy our time, Constable.” Over Brad’s sudden blush, she offered the Englishman a pitying smile. “We may even spare a moment to wonder what you are doing to entertain yourself.”
“A hit, Major Rozek,” Vasey declared grandly, putting his hand on his heart. “A palpable hit.”
Seven
Monitors in the launch observation bunker showed the enormous rocket waiting on Pad 3, five kilometers away. Securely nestled in a ring of retractable gantries, the three-stage Energia-5VR heavy-lift launch vehicle stood ninety meters tall and weighed more than twenty-five hundred tons. Digital readouts blinked rapidly, counting down the moments to the launch. Speakers carried audio patched in from Vostochny’s control center.
“Guidance systems are configured.”
“Energia flight computer is online and in control. The launch program is running.”
“RD-171MV engines on standby.”
“All stages look good, ready for flight.”
Gennadiy Gryzlov kept his eyes fixed on the monitors while he listened to the litany of unhurried reports. For all of the confidence they displayed, he could still sense the tension in those voices — and in the shorter, barrel-chested man standing beside him. Like his subordinates, Colonel General Mikhail Leonov knew the risks involved in testing a new rocket. Much could go wrong, even though the Energia-5VR’s main engines and many of its other components were based on tried-and-true systems that had flown successfully dozens, even hundreds, of times on other rocket designs.
No doubt, Gryzlov thought with amused contempt, his presence at this test launch made Leonov and the rest even more nervous. Watching their prized heavy-lift rocket explode on lift-off or disintegrate in midflight would be bad enough. But a disaster under the very eyes of Russia’s mercurial, notoriously short-tempered leader would be infinitely worse… perhaps even fatal.
“Energia-5VR is go for launch.”
Both Gryzlov and Leonov leaned forward, peering intently at the screens.
“Zapusk,” the voice of Vostochny’s flight director said crisply. “Launching.”
Suddenly brownish smoke lit from within by orange-white flames billowed around the base of the huge rocket — accompanied by a low, crackling roar. “Zazhiganiye. Ignition.”
Out the corner of his eye, Gryzlov saw the muscles around Leonov’s strong, square jaw tighten suddenly. This was a rare moment, he realized: almost the first sign of an ordinary human reaction to stress. Usually, the burly commander of Russia’s aerospace forces prided himself on exhibiting rigid self-control under pressure.
“Predvaritel’naya tyaga. Preliminary thrust,” the director reported. “Booster and core engines at twenty percent. Throttling up.”
Rapidly, the roar deepened, growing ever louder and more deafening. The clouds of smoke and flame grew denser and brighter. Through the shimmering heat waves curling off the launchpad, Gryzlov saw the rocket vibrate, almost as though it were a bird of prey straining to be set free.
“Polnaya moshchnost’. Full power.” Abruptly, the blue-painted gantries that had locked the Energia-5VR in place pivoted up and away. Freed, the rocket surged upward — with what seemed surprising slowness at first and then with ever-increasing speed. “Podnyat’! Lift-off!”
Subdued cheers rolled through the observation bunker, echoed more loudly over the audio feed from the control center. Caught up in the excitement, several of the military officers and high-ranking civilian officials who’d accompanied Gryzlov from Moscow clapped each other on the back.
He ignored them. His whole being was focused on watching the mammoth heavy-lift rocket as it soared higher — arrowing skyward on a dazzling pillar of fire. Together, the five kerosene-fueled engines in the Energia-5VR’s four strap-on boosters and second-stage central core were generating more than eight million pounds of thrust as they hurled it toward space. That was comparable to the Saturn V rockets used in America’s vaunted Apollo program.
Long-range tracking cameras followed the swiftly ascending rocket as it climbed higher and higher through the atmosphere. One hundred and sixty-one seconds after launch, with the Energia-5VR already seventy kilometers above the earth and hundreds of kilometers downrange, the bright glow winked out abruptly. Four puffs of white vapor blossomed briefly around the speeding spacecraft.
“All four strap-on boosters have separated,” the flight director announced, to more cheers in the control center. “Core engine cutoff was on schedule. Preparing for second-stage separation and third-stage ignition.”
Gryzlov noticed Leonov’s jaw clench again. This was another danger point, he knew. The Energia’s third stage was powered by two brand-new, liquid-hydrogen RD-0150 engines. While more powerful and efficient than their kerosene-fueled counterparts, these engines were also significantly more complex — which was one of the reasons the old Soviet-era space program had avoided using them until long after their American rivals had mastered the technology.
On-screen, the wavering, blurry shape of the rocket altered suddenly — apparently splitting in two. The larger of the two halves fell away, tumbling toward the waters of the Sea of Okhotsk. Between the four strap-on boosters and now its core second stage, the Energia had already shed more than 90 percent of its original mass. Seconds later, a bright flare appeared at the base of the much smaller section as it climbed onward.
“Good separation,” the flight director reported. “Third-stage engine ignition confirmed. The burn looks good.”
Gryzlov heard Leonov breathe out quietly as he relaxed.
Ten minutes later, the Energia-5VR entered a stable circular orbit six hundred and forty-four kilometers above the surface of the earth. There, over the next forty-eight hours, its payload would carry out a further set of tests and maneuvers. But for now, one thing was clear to Gennadiy Gryzlov. After decades of failure and many false starts, Russia at last had the heavy-lift rocket capability it had long desired. And it was the final piece of technology he needed to turn the Mars Project from a cherished dream into a solid reality — a reality the Americans and their allies would find nightmarish.
Openly delighted, he glanced at Leonov. “Well done, Mikhail! This was a complete success, despite all the risks.” He snorted. “So much for the staid old fools who said it would take ten more years to develop the Energia-5VR.” With a thin, pleased smile of his own, Leonov nodded.
Gryzlov turned back to study the monitors. They showed the projected ground track of the rocket’s third stage as it circled the globe. Moving at more than twenty-seven thousand kilometers per hour, it was already well out over the Pacific Ocean. “How many of these big Energia rockets are currently under construction?”
“A dozen,” Leonov told him.
“And how many of those are close to completion?”
“Four heavy-lift rockets should be available for launch in a matter of weeks, with two more not far behind,” Leonov said, obviously glad to be able to report even more good news. “So we’ll be able to conduct a rigorous flight-test program while still shaving months off the time needed to certify the Energia-5VR as fully operational.”