But his fears were pointless. His crewmates were in trouble, and it was time to take decisive action.
Pausing for a few seconds to view Earth hovering above him outside the cockpit window, he marveled at its beauty. The planet seemed so peaceful from his vantage point in orbit. It was easy to forget the hardships, conflicts and seemingly insurmountable problems that beleaguered the surface below. Despite the peace and beauty of space, he prayed he would be standing on terra firma soon.
His reverie ended, Carver poised a finger over a button on the navigation panel.
“It’s now or never,” he said aloud, and pressed Enable.
* * *
A Mission Control flight technician monitoring systems status excitedly announced to his boss the reason for a repetitive buzzing on his console. “Sir, Discovery has initiated a de-orbit sequence!”
Hearing this, Davis practically sprinted to the tech’s station. “How long before they land?”
Navigation computers calculated Discovery’s position, time of de-orbit burn, atmosphere re-entry and glide time. A large red-numbered digital mission timer hanging on the wall above a bank of video monitors began ticking off the minutes to touchdown: 00:54:00...00:53:59...00:53:58...
Davis grimaced; in less than an hour NASA would end the Space Shuttle era in a blaze of glory—or, just a blaze.
Chapter 13
Beyond the Kuiper Belt
As Sentinel emerged from the outer reaches of prime entity’s solar system and approached one of the corridor thresholds leading back to Home system, it contemplated the context of its report to the Elders. Clearly the prime entity belonged to an emergent species, their technology rudimentary, community violent and likely antagonistic. The second, small entity was peaceful, and represented promise for its community.
Sentinel would advise further study, but was not optimistic of the outcome; precedent with the Elders demonstrated little interest in primitive worlds. Sentinel would not reveal the contact with the second entity. Sentinel’s assignment was to encounter the prime entity and assess its home system. The Elders reaction to contact with a secondary entity could not be predicted. Nor was Sentinel sure the Elders would employ patience for a violent community. Sentinel believed the prime entity’s community would, in time, become peaceful, and hoped the Elders would authorize further study.
As Sentinel passed through the threshold and entered the corridor, a brilliant flash heralded an enormous burst of electromagnetic radiation. Universal laws of gravity and nuclear force within a planet-sized sphere of space-time momentarily blinked. Milliseconds later, the sphere vanished as local space returned to normal save a small amount of residual radiation.
Sentinel was gone.
Chapter 14
Mission Status: Emergency Landing
A few minutes had elapsed since Carver buckled himself into the pilot’s seat, donned his pressure helmet and initiated the landing sequence. During that time, the shuttle’s navigation computer had performed a series of automated systems checks. Much to his delight, a screen in front of the center console displayed “OK” down several lines of acronyms that represented various shuttle components.
Discovery’s current orbit was again on Earth’s dark side, directly over India where it was just past 3:00 a.m. local time.
A flashing icon on the heads-up display prompted Carver to fire the Reaction Control thrusters, rotating the shuttle counter-clockwise. The craft’s usual orbital attitude during missions was upside-down, inverted above Earth’s surface, traveling nose first. To land, Discovery first needed to slow down. The retrofire maneuver positioned the orbiter tail first to allow the main engines to fire, slowing the shuttle down and initiating a slow fall back to Earth.
Minutes later, with the shuttle’s speed sufficiently reduced, Carver again fired thrusters to pitch the craft end-over-end so it now flew right-side up and nose first. This was the final maneuver before re-entering Earth’s atmosphere, allowing the protective heat-absorbing ceramic tiles on the underside to insulate the rest of the ship from the intensely hot ionized gases generated by friction with air.
Proud of his efforts thus far, Carver relaxed a bit as flight computers took control of Discovery’s descent. With Earth now beneath the shuttle, he was able to look outside the cockpit windows without the glare of earth-shine. He had never seen so many stars in his life, not even on the clearest of desert nights at his Arizona home.
The shuttle began to vibrate as it entered Earth’s ionosphere above the Pacific Ocean, buffeted by air turbulence, softly at first, and then more violently as they descended into thicker atmosphere.
A warning alarm sounded, startling Carver. Letters and numbers on one of the display monitors were flashing red text.
There was a pressure variance in the payload bay. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
* * *
“What’s that?” Davis asked hurriedly as alarms sounded on several Mission Control monitoring stations.
“Atmosphere breach in the cargo bay,” one of the tech’s confirmed anxiously.
Tension spiked in the room as everyone held their collective breath, all thinking the same thing: Columbia, revisited.
* * *
The moment Edwards Air Force Base commander Brigadier General James Thomas received the phone call from NASA, he put the airfield emergency response teams on ready-alert, and scrambled a pair of F-16 Falcons from the 95th Air Base Wing.
Major Joshua “Odie” O’Dell, with fifteen years’ experience on the stick piloting a variety of modern fighter jets, waited patiently for the order to takeoff, holding his plane center left on the taxiway adjacent to runway 24. His wingman, Captain Mark “Wax-man” Waxler, held position on his right.
They had been burning fuel for nearly 30 minutes when the tower finally radioed their clearance for takeoff.
The two jets rolled in tandem to take-off positions, lined up with the runway and immediately applied full thrust.
Nimble and extremely fast, the F-16s were airborne within seconds.
* * *
Frank Carver was certain he had once again pissed inside his flight suit. Discovery was shuddering violently, almost completely enveloped in a red-orange furnace of superheated gas radiating from beneath the aircraft. Fighting the G-forces of rapid deceleration, he strained to look out the cockpit windows. It was like he was inside a giant fireball. He could barely hear himself think through the ear-splitting rush of fiery wind.
The shuttle was getting pounded. It was a miracle the orbiter was still in one piece. Convinced they would break apart and burn up at any moment, Carver silently recited the Lord’s Prayer.
Instinctively, he held on to the shuttle’s control stick and attempted to maintain a nose-up attitude. For all he knew, it wasn’t doing a damn bit of good—either the computer was flying on its own, the shuttle’s surface controls were useless within the inferno outside, or both. But it comforted him to at least try to do something.
To his extreme relief, the rush of flame and violent shaking began to subside. A minute later the cockpit was illuminated with the blue glow of the Pacific Ocean below. He had no idea where they were. The heads-up display provided flight data, including a digital altimeter and compass. The craft was passing through 200,000 feet, on a heading of 088º, almost due east. Air speed was Mach 4, almost 3,000 miles per hour.
Minutes later, as the computer executed some banking maneuvers, their altitude had dropped to 120,000 feet. Having decelerated to less than Mach 3, the buffeting diminished to minor turbulence.
Carver nudged the stick right, and the craft responded with a slight turn. Feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he quickly let go of the stick. Still in control, the auto-pilot returned the craft to its programmed heading, but he noted with interest that he could override computer control if necessary.
Carver was grateful he did not need to do all the work himself, however he was well aware that t
he computer could not complete the landing independently. At some point a human needed to assume control on final approach to the runway, touchdown and brake the craft until it came to a stop.
The thought made him anxious.
* * *
Public Relations offices at both Kennedy and Johnson Space Centers were enduring firestorms of their own from an intense onslaught of media questions. Davis’ cover story that Discovery was landing early due to a ‘minor mission anomaly’ hadn’t held up long. Savvy journalists sniffed a smokescreen and exercised their investigative talents to extract leaks from within NASA’s ranks as to the real story.
Fragmented information, wild speculation and haste to scoop another shuttle disaster led both local and national news outlets to report a variety of inaccuracies. Sensationalism ran rampant as rumors across the airwaves and internet ranged from the shuttle exploding in space to a U.F.O. attack.
At Mission Control in Houston, the entire staff cheered as telemetry data confirmed Discovery was still in one piece after re-entering Earth’s atmosphere. Davis instructed his media director to issue an announcement, explaining that one of the shuttle’s personnel had suffered injury, prompting an emergency landing at Edwards Air Force Base.
However, unknown to anyone in Mission Control, Carver had inadvertently set Discovery’s radio to an open frequency which the media routinely monitored during shuttle missions. Once word of the emergency went public, TV stations and news radio began broadcasting a continuous live feed on that frequency.
Consequently, Carver’s next transmission was heard by the entire country.
“Houston, this is Discovery. Are you reading me?..... I am still not receiving. We have completed re-entry somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. I have programmed Discovery to land at Edwards, repeat Edwards Air Force Base. Please have emergency medical personnel standing by. Wish us luck.”
* * *
“Chase 1, proceed heading two-eight-two. Intercept target and escort to base. Copy?”
Major O’Dell toggled the button on his UHF radio mic. “Roger, Centcom. Turning to vector two-eight-two, will advise on contact and provide escort.”
O’Dell consulted his grid map and did some quick mental calculations. On full after-burners, they would intercept the shuttle over the Pacific Ocean about 150 miles southwest of San Francisco. He switched to his VHF radio for air-to-air communication. “Wax-man, we’re gonna push the envelope on this one. You ready to rock and roll?”
“Roger that, Odie. Nothing on radar yet, we should pick Discovery up in seven or eight minutes.”
“Bearing two-eight-two, burners 100% on my mark, climb to eight-zero-thousand. Three, two, one, mark.”
Blue flame erupted from the powerful engines as both jets rapidly accelerated up into the clouds, leaving behind a pair of contrails.
* * *
The turbulence intensified again. Carver was certain the shuttle would shake apart this time if it got much worse. The gauges before him indicated a breach in the payload bay. With Discovery traveling at Mach 2.5, two-and-a-half times the speed of sound, he hoped the damn doors weren’t about to shear off their hinges. Passing through 100,000 feet, there was enough airspeed to widen even a tiny hole in the payload bay seal and wreak havoc inside; it was a wonder that one of the doors hadn’t already been ripped from the hull. The shuttle would break apart in seconds if that happened at their current velocity.
Resigned that there was absolutely nothing he could do about the breach, Carver turned his attention to their position and heading. They were descending quickly, now passing 90,000 feet, bearing 95 degrees. He could see only blue haze, with broken cloud far below.
Finally, the turbulence began to wane. The airspeed indicator read Mach 2.0. Perhaps the old bird is going to hold together after all, he mused, cautiously optimistic.
“Sweet Jesus!” Carver screamed, as two airplanes appeared directly in front of him out of nowhere. Startled, he didn’t know what to do. Both aircraft assumed a position about 200 feet ahead of Discovery, matching airspeed. He recognized the planes as U.S. Air Force F-16 Falcons, single-seat configuration fighter jets.
The dawning realization that they were his escort lifted his spirits. First order of business: try to make radio contact.
“F-16s, this is Space Shuttle Discovery. Do you read?” He waited for a response, but there was none. “I am not receiving you. If you can hear me, I need a visual response.” The jet on the left wagged its wings. Yes!
“Roger that, Air Force,” Carver said enthusiastically. “I’m damn glad you’re here. We are attempting to land at Edwards Air Force Base. Do you copy?” The plane on the left wagged again, one time.
Now what? One-way communication complicated the discussion, forcing him to ask only yes or no questions.
“Am I on the right heading?” Again the plane wagged once. The other F-16 maneuvered to the right and assumed station parallel to the shuttle.
“Is my descent correct?” This time the lead F-16 wagged several times, and then began to drop from view. Carver inferred his descent was too shallow.
“Alright. Stand by while I disengage the auto pilot.”
His hopes of riding the computer all the way down dashed, Carver muttered a few expletives while flipping the appropriate switches to turn off computer control.
* * *
Everyone at Mission Control cheered again when the escort jets announced they had made visual contact with Discovery.
The somber mood quickly returned, however, as a sense of helplessness washed over the room. There was nothing they could do to assist the shuttle. From here on, NASA personnel would be nothing more than observers, waiting with the rest of the world to see if the shuttle would land successfully or crash in the California desert.
Davis listened intently to the radio traffic, stone-faced, contemplating the next few minutes that would define the legacy of NASA’s shuttle program. It’s all on Frank Carver’s shoulders now. The thought gave him chills.
* * *
Major O’Dell acknowledged his orders from Edwards. Discovery was coming in way too hot and high and he needed to lead the shuttle through a series of sharp S-turns to reduce altitude and velocity. This was usually a normal procedure, but this situation was anything but normal. A civilian piloting a damaged craft—Odie gave long odds this bird would land in one piece. He let Discovery gain on his tail before initiating a slow descending bank to the right.
He prayed the guy on Discovery’s stick was savvy enough to follow his lead.
* * *
Carver nearly jumped out of his skin as Discovery seemed on the verge of ramming into the F-16’s tailpipe. Unsure of the pilot’s intentions but trusting there was a good reason for closing the distance between the two crafts, he resisted the instinct to pull back on the pilot control stick.
A few seconds later, the maneuver became clear. The pilot wagged his wings again as the jet dropped below view from the shuttle cockpit. Follow me.
“Air Force, I’m assuming I need to increase my rate of descent and follow you down. I’m matching your glide path now.”
Nudging the stick forward, Carver didn’t sense any change in the shuttle’s attitude. Was the auto-pilot still engaged? He looked at the control panel—No. He pushed the stick further. This time the shuttle responded noticeably, in fact too much as it passed below the F-16’s glide path.
Carver eased back on the stick after realizing the shuttle’s response to the flight controls was slower than he expected. It took him several attempts before he learned to stop over-correcting.
Just as he was getting comfortable, the F-16 wagged its wings again and drifted to the left. He eased the control stick over until the jet was centered in the windscreen.
With the second F-16 above and to the right, Discovery and her escorts made a steep descending arc in tandem.
Carver finally saw land as the three aircraft broke through a thin ceiling of stratus cloud.
Just as his confidence began to improve, they again encountered turbulent air.
A particularly large bounce produced a loud bang aft of the flight deck. Alarms and buzzers began to sound off. Confused, he began to panic.
“Air Force, there’s something wrong. I need to pull up!”
The lead F-16 wagged its wings rapidly and maintained the descent.
“I think the payload bay door is about to fly off—we’re going too fast!”
Again the F-16 wagged, then straightened out and turned to the right.
Carver cursed as he reluctantly followed Air Force’s lead.
* * *
A voice from Edwards Central Command came in over the UHF radio. “Chase 1, Discovery is shallow. Turn left and increase descent to 2,000 fpm.”
Major O’Dell clicked his radio mic. “Centcom, it appears Discovery has a hull breach in the payload bay. The starboard door is not secure. Please confirm descent rate.”
There was a brief pause. “Discovery will overshoot base unless they lose altitude fast. Execute emergency descent.”
O’Dell acknowledged the order.
Capt. Waxler chimed in over the air-to-air radio. “Looks like things are about to get really interesting, eh Odie?”
The Major whistled. “You got that right. I think we’re about find out what this guy Carver is made of.”
* * *
It finally dawned on Carver what was going on: the F-16’s were leading Discovery in a series of steep circular turns, ostensibly to shed altitude and velocity, and to line up with one of Edwards runways. Hopefully the longest one, he muttered.
But rather than the slow turns and smooth descent normally executed during space shuttle landings, Discovery was coming in too high, requiring extreme maneuvers to compensate. Consequently, turbulence, wind shear and other loads were straining the damaged shuttle beyond design limits.