Rocket Dawn

  Rocket DAWN

  Richard Tongue

  ROCKET DAWN

  Copyright © 2019 by Richard Tongue, All Rights Reserved

  First Kindle Edition: April 2019

  Cover by Keith Draws

  With thanks to Ellen Clarke

  All characters and events portrayed within this eBook are fictitious; any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  As she looked up over the snow-tipped peaks, Katerina Antonova saw a million stars gleaming down at her from the clear skies, shining down on Kennedy Mountain as she trudged up the well-worn path to the observatory at the top, a backpack over her shoulder and a holdall in each hand. The chill wind whispered its way inside her thick coat, but she barely felt the cold, knowing that it would provide perfect viewing conditions tonight, the dream of any astronomer.

  Technically, Parker Observatory was meant to be used for training only, attached to the University of Alaska, but that was still some way into the future, when all the equipment had been properly installed. The telescope was in place, the seventy-five incher that had been custom-built over the last four years, but there was still so much to do. More than enough to keep her occupied for a while. More than enough to allow her to forget the past, at least for a time. She paused for a second, shaking her head at the spectacular building, knowing that it was a technological dead-end in an era of orbital observatories, but still admiring the gleaming white lines. Soon enough it would be battered and careworn. For now, it was beautiful.

  “Hey, the Russians are coming!” a cheerful voice boomed, and the door swung open to reveal the smiling face of Mark Dixon, one of the grad students who had talked his way into a position on staff. “I hope you brought coffee.”

  “Good evening, Doctor,” the calmer voice of Stephanie Schneider, a white-haired lecturer in astronomy who somehow never quite managed to get the tenure she craved, added. “I’m glad you’re here. We’re going to need all the help we can get tonight. Wilkes and Malloy called in sick.”

  “They aren’t, but the Seawolves are,” Dixon replied. “I’ve never seen a basketball team beaten that bad.”

  “We’ll be having words when they come in tomorrow night,” Schneider said, her face darkening.

  With a shrug, Dixon said, “Doesn’t bother me if they’re throwing away their telescope time. We don’t have nights this good very often.” Turning back to the monitor screens, he added, “I guess I’d better get to work. I want to take another look at the trojan points again.”

  Smiling, Antonova replied, “I’ll give you a hand.” She carefully placed her equipment by the door, then walked over to the controls, glancing at the plan Dixon had scrawled on the whiteboard, Schneider’s signature scribbled beneath it. As she entered in the co-ordinates, Schneider walked over to her, peering over her shoulder.

  “We’ll help you with the calibration tests some other time, Doctor,” the lecturer said. “We can’t waste a night like this, I’m afraid.” Glancing at the door, she said, “I suppose if you want to go back down…”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to pass this up either. This is as close as I’m ever likely to get to the stars, these days. Anything I can do to help. Besides, if he finds something interesting in the Lunar Trojans, that’s close enough to send something out there to go take a look. Even if we’re just talking about dust, it would still be worth sampling.”

  “First shot now,” Dixon said. “Just a tester. Doctor Schneider, can you run it through the comparator?”

  “Of course,” the lecturer replied with a wry smile, walking over to one of the computers and loading the new image, comparing it with one taken during the last survey, a month before. The weather had been terrible in the intervening period, thick clouds blocking out the sky for weeks at a time. It was hardly surprising that the others had felt free to take the night off; so far, they’d spent most of the semester up here learning about the mathematics of poker, rather than pursing their course in practical astronomy.

  “Second shot loading, same area,” Dixon said.

  “Co-ordinates are locked, all systems are good,” Antonova added. She looked across at Schneider, the old woman frowning as she looked at the monitor, and asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “Maybe. You’ve got the imaging software over there, right? Run this through again. There might be something wrong with the program. I almost hope there is.”

  “On it,” Antonova said, Dixon abandoning his work to stand behind her, watching as she loaded up the comparator software and fed the two images into the system, belatedly adding the newest image as well, adding more data to the program. The three pictures lined up, side by side, and a red circle winked onto the screen, flashing on and off. She looked across at Schneider, and said, “I see it. On the left side, almost out of view.”

  “Dixon, lock onto that object. I want a good, clear image of it.”

  “My program…”

  “To hell with that, Mark,” Antonova replied. “There’s something out there, and close.”

  Nodding, Dixon returned to the controls, swinging the great telescope around a fraction of a degree to catch the object dead-center, quickly taking a quartet of images and feeding them through to the computers, each one at a higher magnification than the last, trying to gather more and more data. Antonova threw them up onto the display, then turned on the projector with a switch, the object appearing on the wall.

  “Asteroid,” she said. “Must be big.”

  “No, it’s close,” Schneider said. “Less than three million miles.” Shaking her head, she said, “I thought we’d really found something for a minute. Mark, you can carry on with your work. I’ll send the notifications through.”

  “I’d better take a look at its trajectory,” Antonova said. “We ought to be able to get a rough idea where it’s going.” Her hands returned to the keyboard, rattling in a series of commands as the disappointed Dixon returned to his observations, working out his next sequence of shots. Antonova concentrated on her work, the computer struggling with the limited data available. Finally, after a moment’s work and a series of educated guesses, the flight path appeared on the screen, and what she saw made her eyes widen with shock.

  She’d expected a parabola.

  She’d got an ellipse.

  Whatever that object was, it was here to stay.

  “Doctor Schneider,” she said, “hold off on that report for a moment. You’re going to want to see this first.”

  “Something interesting?”

  “You might say that,” Antonova replied. “If my calculations are correct, Earth just acquired a new moon.”

  Chapter 1

  The helicopter settled onto the frost-laden pad, blades whirring as the single passenger climbed out, snatching his backpack from the other seat before slamming the door closed, waving off for the pilot to depart. He kept low for a moment, wary of the spinning rotors, then rose to his full height as the helicopter roared away. He rubbed his stubbly face as he approached the quartet of people who had come to greet him, wishing that he’d had time for a shave.

  “Colonel Knox?” one of them asked, a tall, dark-haired man wearing clothes that had obviously come direct from the sports store the day before.

  “Last time I checked,” Knox replied. “Thomas Knox, United States Space Force, at your service.”

  Nodding, the man said, “Professor Gibson, Director of Parker Observatory.” Gesturing to the others, he said, “Doctor Stephanie Schneider, one of our astronomers, Mark Dixon, the grad student who made the find, and Doctor Katerina Antonova, an engineer who was on site for the discovery. Your superiors made it clear that they wanted everyone who was here last night on the spot.”

  “That’s rig
ht,” Knox said. “I’m sorry that I got you all out of bed. I know how tough working nights can be. I’ll try and get this over with as fast as possible so that I can prepare my preliminary report.”

  “Preliminary report?” Schneider asked. “Just what is all this about, anyway? We’ve got work to do.”

  “I understand completely, Doctor, and one of my instructions is to see that you get all the help you need. We’re going to hook you into the quantum computer at Vandenburg, give you some real processing power to work with, and tie you in with a couple of orbital observatories that we have access to, starting the day after tomorrow.”

  “I wasn’t aware that the Space Force was stepping on NASA’s toes quite so hard,” Schneider replied.

  With a shrug, Knox said, “Two decommissioned spy satellites. We were in the process of deorbiting them when this came up, and we were able to put them back into service for this. Naturally, that’s as much detail as any of you are going to get, but I’m authorized to show you the raw images. They’re ten years old anyway. Practically Stone Age. All of you have been checked out to receive Secret-level clearance for the duration of this project.” A smile cracked his face, and he added, “You might get some odd questions from your neighbors when you get back to Juneau, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “I’m not,” the eager Dixon said. “It’s worth it.”

  “I hope you’ll think so after the next stipulation. All of you are staying here until further notice. Me as well. I’ve already arranged for food to be shipped up here, as well as something to wash it down. I’m afraid we’re going to have to rough it up here for a few days.” He paused, then said, “Not my call, but this is now a matter of national security, and as such, all your information is classified.” Before they could protest, he raised his hand, and added, “It won’t be for long, and we’ll make damned sure you get full credit for the find once it breaks, but for now, we need to keep this confidential.”

  “Why?” Schneider protested. “I don’t get it. What possible reasons could you have?”

  “I’m afraid that’s need to know. You don’t. Not yet, anyway.” Looking around at the four of them, he added, “Seriously, I don’t see why you are complaining. This way you get the full backing of the Space Force and whatever NASA assets you need to conduct the fullest possible preliminary survey. Way more than you could get out of the University of Alaska. No offence, Doctor.”

  “None taken,” Gibson said, in a tone of voice that made it quite clear he was lying.

  Pulling a printout from his pocket, Knox added, “Our best guess gives four more nights of clear skies for further study. I don’t need to tell you that this has absolute top priority, overriding anything else in your program.”

  “No objections here,” Dixon said, a smile on his face. “You want to see what we’ve got already?”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” Knox replied. “Lead the way.” As the group walked up the track towards the observatory, he looked at Antonova. Even if he hadn’t seen her dossier, he would have known that she had worked for Roscosmos. Her accent was strong, yet subtle, the mark of long practice with English, and she had the occasional Texan twang that could only come from a long sojourn in Houston, perhaps even from a NASA language instructor. Her haircut was another obvious tell, copper hair cut spacesuit-short, her hand gestures precise and restrained. She’d trained for space, years ago, back before the Two-Week War.

  The nuclear exchange that wiped a dozen cities from the map of European Russia had led to a tidal wave of refugees fleeing the destruction, the President of the day offering sanctuary to thousands of engineers and scientists in the hope that bringing them to the States might prevent them from finding work for any of the nations that had emerged from the chaos of those times, the terrorist groups that had sprouted like weeds over the last twenty years. It had worked, after a fashion. Perhaps as well as could have been hoped.

  “Forgive me, Major…,” he began.

  “Doctor. The only military rank I hold is from a nation that no longer exists.”

  With a cut nod, he replied, “Doctor, then. How does a twice-flown cosmonaut end up working out here?”

  “Are you asking professionally, or is this an attempt at small talk?”

  “The latter at the moment. The former if it becomes necessary.”

  She glared at him as they walked up the summit, falling behind the others for privacy, and said, “My grandfather was a cosmonaut, though he never flew. I spent my life longing to follow in his footsteps, to succeed where he had faltered. So I joined the Air Force, rose to the rank of Major, was selected by Roscosmos as a cosmonaut-engineer and served two tours on the Commercial Space Station. We had talked of flights to the Moon, the Mars, and I would have been a part of them.” She frowned, then asked, “You are a moonwalker, are you not?”

  “Altair Nine, eight months ago. After a while we don’t make the front pages.”

  “I envy you.” She sighed, then said, “I wore the uniform of my country, and I wore it proudly. Up until the day that bickering politicians destroyed Mother Russia in nuclear fire. Then the vultures came to pick over the bones. Your CosmoTech, buying Roscosmos for a fraction of its worth. Yes, they offered me a job. They could not, however, grant me the intestinal fortitude to take it.”

  “They’re not that bad. Besides, you could always fly for Siberia…”

  “The Siberian Republic is nothing other than a puppet state. The rest of the world carved up Russia like a roast.” She paused, sighed, and said, “I am not ungrateful that the United States gave me sanctuary and citizenship after the collapse. I cannot help feeling as I do.”

  He paused, nodded, and said, “I can’t blame you for that. It’s always painful to watch dreams die. Maybe I’ll tell you about mine sometime.”

  “Come on, Colonel,” Dixon called, the student already almost at the observatory.

  “Coming,” Knox replied.

  “Given that we’re trading questions,” Antonova said, “What is a full Space Force Colonel, a moonwalker, no less, doing up here on this job?”

  “Just lucky, I guess. I was on vacation in Fairbanks, visiting some relatives, and I made the mistake of telling my boss where I was taking my leave. Uncle Zeke was the one who gave me a ride.”

  “I wondered why it was a Forest Service helicopter that dropped you off.”

  He smiled, then replied, “I didn’t complain that hard. Hell, Earth doesn’t get a new moon every day.”

  “It has happened before,” Schneider said, as the pair caught up with the others. “We’ve spotted them twice before, but on both occasions too late to do anything with the discovery. It probably happens all the time. They usually stay for a few months, a year at the outside, before the Earth-Moon system throws them back out into deep space.”

  “Are you planning a mission?” Dixon asked.

  “I’m sure someone at NASA is working on it right now, but I don’t know whether they’ll come up with anything,” Knox replied. “A big part of that is probably going to depend on the observations we make tonight.”

  Gibson pushed open the door, and said, “I just hope this doesn’t prove too disruptive, Colonel. We only have a few more weeks to complete the installation before our science schedule is meant to kick into high gear, and the grants we have obtained will only go so far.”

  “If that was a not-so-veiled suggestion, Professor, rest assured that Uncle Sam will pick up the tab.” The group stepped inside, kicking off the snow and dirt on the mat, Dixon throwing his coat in the vague direction of the rack before racing over to the nearest terminal, his hands a blur on the keyboard and mouse as he called up the images, the first of the shots appearing on the monitor.”

  “That’s what brought it to our attention. A star that shouldn’t be there.”

  “Just like how Clyde Tombaugh discovered Pluto,” Gibson said. “You can’t underestimate the value of good, solid, basic research. Sometimes you have to go right back to the fundamental
s.”

  “We managed another ninety-two images last night, all of them at progressively better resolution. Enough that we can start to make some educated guesses about just what we’re dealing with here.” Looking down at his scribbled notes, the student continued, “It’s mostly iron, some nickel, and a lot of other elements in small quantities. Everything that the asteroid mining companies have been wanting to exploit for the last thirty years or so, and it’s all right here, waiting for us to go out and get!”

  Schneider sighed, and said, “Excuse Mark’s enthusiasm. I think he’s had rather too much caffeine and sugar.”

  “What about the orbital elements?” Knox asked, sitting next to the student.

  “About two million miles, we think, co-orbiting both Earth and the Moon, though pulled one way or the other rather, so it won’t be perfect at all. We’re going to need more data before we can come up with a final determination, but I think we’re going to have our new friend here for a little over thirteen months.” He paused, turned to Knox, and said, “In terms of delta-V, it’ll be no harder than getting to lunar orbit.”

  “Down, kid, down,” Knox replied. “What about the other details?”

  “A little over a mile across. At least, the main body.”

  “Main body?” Knox asked.

  “Take a look at this image,” the student said, tapping a control to bring up another shot. Knox looked at the picture, spotting a series of fuzzy objects on the display, all of them far smaller than the asteroid.

  “Image artefacts?” he asked.

  “We don’t think so,” Antonova replied. “Though we don’t have sufficient data yet to rule that out. We need a lot more research, more observatories working on the problem. What about getting some time on the James Webb? I checked the calendar, and there’s five hours of contingency time available the day after tomorrow.”

  “Maybe later,” Knox said, “but those shots are livestreamed, and…”

  Schneider glared at him, and interrupted, “Colonel, we appreciate the help, but I still don’t know why this would be considered a national security issue. You realize that someone else is bound to detect this rock sooner or later, and…”