impressions can be vague at times,” Zambendorf went on, smiling. “So yes,
please, Caspar, do go ahead and tell me what happened.”
As Lang summarized the conversation with Massey, Zambendorf’s eyes narrowed, and
he listened more intently. He remained quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts for
several minutes after Lang had cleared down. Fellburg said nothing and occupied
himself with jotting down notes concerning the bugging device, eventually
looking up and cocking an eyebrow when he sensed that Zambendorf was ready to
say something.
“Joe, are we that important on this mission … I mean as far as GSEC is
concerned?” Zambendorf asked.
Fellburg frowned down over his hand while he stroked his mouth with the side of
a finger. “Well, I guess it’s still the way we talked about before—if lots of
people get hyped up on space, it has to be good for business.”
“Yes, but isn’t the main purpose of the mission to accumulate data for the
future design of colonies?” Zambendorf asked.
Fellburg nodded. “Yeah … I guess so.”
“And nobody could argue that our being there is vital to that purpose, could
they … or even really that important?”
“Nope … I guess not.”
Zambendorf nodded, frowned to himself, and paced away to face the far wall.
Silence fell again for a while. Then Zambendorf wheeled back. “It doesn’t add
up, Joe. Why would people like Burton Ramelson and Gregory Buhl involve
themselves personally in something like this? It should have been left to the
regular GSEC management minions. And if NASO wouldn’t back down and the regular
management couldn’t handle it, then the whole idea should have been dropped. In
fact that’s probably what NASO expected. But it didn’t work out that way. What
do you make of it?”
Fellburg stared hard at the table, but in the end shook his head with a heavy
sigh. “Got me beat,” he conceded.
“It’s this mission,” Zambendorf said, moving slowly back toward the window.
“There’s something very strange about the whole situation . . . You know, I’m
beginning to suspect there’s a lot more behind it than anybody’s been talking
about. In fact, it’s more than just a suspicion, Joe—it’s a dead certainty.”
Fellburg pursed his lips while he considered the proposition. “Any ideas?” he
asked at last.
Zambendorf frowned. “Not at this stage. But if something’s being hushed up and
it concerns the purpose of the mission, it has to be something pretty big. Just
think what a bonanza it could be for us if we called it before the public or
anyone else knew anything.” Zambendorf’s eyes gleamed as he pictured it. “My
nose tells me there’s something to be found out that we could turn to our
advantage somehow. I want to get the whole team working on it right away.”
8
IN COMPARING THE EFFECTIVENESS OF VARIOUS WAYS OF IMPARTING momentum to a
projectile, physicists employ the concept of “impulse,” which is given by the
product of the force acting on the projectile and the time for which it acts. In
the case of a spacecraft, a key indicator of performance is the impulse per unit
vehicle mass, or “specific impulse,” which is measured in units of time and
usually expressed as seconds. High specific impulses arise from propulsion
systems that generate high-velocity exhaust products. The exhaust molecules from
a hydrogen-oxygen rocket are ejected with velocities of the order of three
kilometers per second, corresponding to a specific impulse of 450 seconds at
best, with the result that interplanetary travel based on chemical propulsion is
reckoned in years. A fusion reaction, by contrast, ejects plasma products over
three hundred times faster and makes attainable specific impulses as high as
100,000 seconds. That was why a fusion drive had been considered essential to
maintaining a base on Mars, and why the Orion’s projected flight-time was only
fifty days.
The Orion was built in two major parts—a forward section and an aft
section—connected by a quarter-mile-long structural boom. Its tail end was open
to space, and consisted of a framework of girders, struts, and tiebars forming
four unenclosed, cylindrical thrust-chambers strapped together in a cluster like
a bundle of squirrel cages. Frozen pellets of a deuterium-tritium mix were fired