“Hell yes,” Ann said. “I hope you don’t mind, Miss Eddington. I never turn down an opportunity to ride in the cockpit.”
“Of course not, ma’am,” Sondra said, but it was rather obvious that she did mind. I never turn it down either, she thought, but I guess I just don’t matter around this place anymore.
“Shall we go?” Ann asked excitedly. “I can’t wait to see station again.”
“We have plenty of time, ma’am,” Gonzo said. “No hurry at all. Our launch window opens in about an hour.”
“Very good, Colonel Faulkner,” Ann said.
“Gonzo, please. I don’t respond to rank anymore.”
“Gonzo it is.” She looked at the EEAS space suit. “I love this suit,” she said. “It accentuates your figure very well, a lot better than this old thing. You like it?”
“When it’s activated it’s a bit of a kick in the pants,” Gonzo admitted, “but it makes moving around and working so much better.”
They made their way up the stairs to the airlock entry hatch atop the Midnight spaceplane, then down a ladder and aft to the passenger module, and Gonzo helped Clarkson and Sondra strap in and don their helmets, then briefed them on normal and emergency procedures. “I know the drill, Gonzo,” Sondra said, sounding perturbed when Gonzo tried to help her attach her umbilicals.
“I gotta go through the routine with everybody, Sondra—you know that,” Gonzo said in a low voice, giving the young woman a warning stare and looking to see if Clarkson was noticing any of this. “Play nice, okay?” To Clarkson she said, “For safety reasons, we’ll be wearing helmets and gloves, but you can keep your visors open. If necessary, all you need to do is close them, and you’ll be secure. Sondra will help you. Have a nice flight.” Clarkson nodded but said nothing.
After technicians made sure everything in the passenger module was secure and ready, they helped Ann Page into the Midnight’s right front seat and strapped her in, connected her up, and helped her with her helmet. “I can’t wait, I can’t wait,” she said excitedly when the intercom was activated. “I miss traveling in space so much. With you guys it probably seems so routine, but back in the shuttle and early spaceplane days, it seemed every flight was a test flight. The media always reported it as ‘just another shuttle launch,’ but we were so clueless. You have no idea.”
“Oh, I do, ma’am,” Gonzo said. “I know the guy who designed our ‘leopards’ engines, and he can be a real flake-ozoid sometimes. Our lives are in that guy’s hands on every flight.”
“Please call me Ann on this flight, Gonzo,” Ann said. “I want to feel like a crewmember and not a passenger who’s allowed to ride shotgun.”
“Okay, Ann.”
“Hunter ‘Boomer’ Noble,” Ann said. “I remember I was the cat’s pajamas in aerospace engineering until he came along. His reputation blew past mine like a freakin’ hurricane.”
“The students working on the Starfire project will blow past Boomer soon, I guarantee it,” Gonzo said, “and their school, Cal Poly, isn’t even the best engineering school in the country. I think we’ll see some amazing advances very soon.”
The two continued chatting until it was time for taxi and takeoff. Gonzo found that the vice president was very familiar with the spaceplane’s checklists and switch positions, and she performed very well as a mission commander. “I’m impressed, Ann,” she said. “You know as much about Midnight as a student MC.”
“I helped design the S-9 spaceplanes and trained to fly them, although most times I was just a passenger,” Ann said. “I guess it’s like riding a bicycle: once you do it, you never forget.”
Takeoff, repositioning to the air refueling track, and the acceleration using the scramjets were normal. Because their takeoff time was several hours different from the S-29s, the flight paths of the two spaceplanes were several thousand miles apart—as the S-19 Midnight ascended on scramjets, they overflew India, China, and the Russian Far East.
“I love it, I love it, I love it,” the vice president intoned as they started their steep ascent. There was absolutely no hint of the G-forces in her voice, just a big smile on her face. “This is the only way to fly!”
OVER YELIZOVO AIRPORT
KAMCHATKA KRAI, EASTERN RUSSIA
THAT SAME TIME
“Garpun flight, this is Uchitel, your order is solnechnyy svet, repeat, solnechnyy svet,” the senior controller radioed. “Sunshine, sunshine. Proceed as planned.”
“Harpoon flight leader acknowledges,” the pilot of the lead formation of two MiG-31D Foxhound fighters radioed in reply. “Break. Harpoon Two, did you copy?”