Starfire:A Novel

“Sondra, Boomer, this is Brad!” Brad McLanahan said excitedly. “My team members and I would like to say congratulations for bringing up the last major Starfire component.”


“Thanks, buddy,” Boomer said. “Pass along our congratulations to your team. Everyone on Armstrong and at Sky Masters is excited to be installing the last part of this project and preparing for a test-firing very soon.”

“Same, Brad,” Sondra said simply.

“How are you, Sondra? How was your first trip into orbit?”

“I’m more like a babysitter up here: everything is so automated that I don’t do anything but watch the computers do all the work.”

“Well, the takeoff was incredible, we watched your ascent from mission control, and the rendezvous was picture-perfect,” Brad said. “We can see them loading the microwave cavity into the Skybolt module right freakin’ now. And you just made your first trip into orbit. Awesome! Congratulations!”

“You sound like a little kid, Brad,” Boomer said.

“The team and I couldn’t be more excited, Boomer,” Brad said. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night—heck, not for the past week!”

“So when do we fire this bad boy up, Brad?” Boomer asked.

“It’s coming together real well, Boomer, maybe in a week or so,” Brad replied. “Construction of the first rectenna is complete, and it’s being tested and readied for the test firing at the White Sands Missile Test Range as we speak. The computer chips and new software for the aiming controls are all online and tested. We’ve run into a couple glitches with the lithium-ion capacitors fully discharging into the Skybolt laser, but we have an army of guys working on them, and we recruit more experts and technicians for the project every day. I’m still trying to talk Dr. Kaddiri and Dr. Richter into letting me fly up to the station. Put in a good word for me, okay?”

“Sure, Brad,” Boomer said.

“Sondra, when do you come back?” Brad asked.

“I can’t tell you that, Brad, not on an unsecure transmission,” Sondra replied testily. “I know I have some classes and exercises up here on station, and I don’t think we’re returning directly to Battle Mountain.”

“I have to go back to Cal Poly tomorrow morning,” Brad said, the dejection apparent in his voice. “I’ve missed enough classes already.”

“Next time, Brad,” Sondra said.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to work,” Brad said. “We’re going to talk with the techs on Armstrong about beginning integration of the microwave cavity into Skybolt, and then the team is going to the city to celebrate the completion of Starfire. Wish you guys were with us. Thanks again for a thrilling and successful flight.”

“You got it, buddy,” Boomer said. “And I will talk to the brass about getting you up and other members of your team on a spaceplane flight to Armstrong. You should be up here when you make your first shot.”

“Awesome, Boomer,” Brad said. “Thank you again. Talk to you soon.”

“Midnight clear.” Boomer closed the connection. “Man, it’s good to hear a guy so damned excited about something,” he said on intercom. “And I like hearing ‘the team this’ and ‘the team that.’ He’s the head of a project that has almost a hundred members and a budget of over two hundred million dollars at last count, but it’s still about the team. Very cool.” Sondra said nothing. Boomer looked over to her but couldn’t read much in her face through the oxygen helmet. “Am I right?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Boomer let the silence linger for a few long moments; then: “You still haven’t broken up with him, have you?”

“I don’t need to,” Sondra said peevishly. “I’ve seen the guy just three weekends in six months, and when we do see each other, all he talks about is Starfire this or Cal Poly that, and all he does is schoolwork and Starfire stuff, and then he rides his bike or does hundreds of push-ups and sit-ups to work out. He did that every day I was visiting.”

“He works out every day?”

“At least ninety minutes a day, not including the time on the bike riding to classes or the gym,” Sondra said. “He’s really changed, and it’s a little creepy. He sleeps only four or five hours a night, he’s on the phone or computer—or both at the same time—constantly, and he eats like a friggin’ bird. I get home after visiting him and I feel like ordering a whole large cheese and pepperoni pizza just for myself.”

“I have to admit, he looked really good when I saw him before takeoff today, a lot better than the last time I saw him when his dad was around,” Boomer said. “He’s lost a bunch of weight and looks like he’s got some guns on him now.”

“Not that I ever got to shoot any of them,” Sondra said moodily.

Boomer didn’t ask her to elaborate.




DOWNTOWN BATTLE MOUNTAIN, NEVADA

A FEW HOURS LATER


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