HMS Sophia

Chapter XXIV - A Mass Media point of view 29th September 1958 Jane had interviewed several candidates before the one who was currently sitting in front of her desk. Some had been completely green, new to the world of PR work and hoping that the relatively new nature of SREP would let them leap into a senior role. Some were older, critical, even cynical and seemed to see SREP as a decent retirement posting before leaving the PR world. None had impressed her, in the slightest, none were suitable and none could bring any real talent to SREP's thus far ignominious halls. But this man, the man who had just unbuttoned his suit jacket as if he was settling into the office, he was impressing her. Mathew Jepson, 32, with fourteen years of journalism, media activity and some reporting. His resume was certainly impressive enough. She dropped the paper back on her desk and crossed her arms, regarding him across the solid wood. "Mr Jepson... I suppose the obvious question. Why do you want to work for SREP? Have you been following our work?" He shakes his head. "Some, especially the bigger things. And yes," He says, shrugging "I saw the articles around the Orbiter failures. You were front page, especially after the German's beat you to it, but no. I wouldn't class myself as a follower." "Then why the application?" Jane makes a face, perplexed at his presence. "Honestly? You need me. Well, maybe not me specifically, but someone as good as me. Your media presence has been simply appalling. Launch notifications and announcements of success." "Sure, we're giving out press releases." "Maybe, but where's the... where's the punch? Where's the pizazz? Where's the glorious strides you're taking for the future of humanity?" "We're not hiding what we're doing..." The Major says, frowning. "Of course not, but you're also not announcing it properly. Major... You could have the people of this nation clamouring for more funding for SREP. You could have congressmen demanding that we launch a man into space soonest. Instead you have detractors and doubts." "There's not much more we can do, we need proven systems, we need time to test-" "And you need PR. SREP might be government funded, but you still need to be marketed to the public, you still need... spin. Good, positive spin, not the drubbing you've been given by the national rags." "You can do that for us?" "At the very least. I thought you needed someone like me when I got here, you've only proven my point since then." She gives him a glare and he laughs. "Sorry, my game isn't for everyone." "It's hardly a game, Mr. Jepson-" "No, not at all. I think I understand how important this place is, even if I'm not an avid believer just yet." After a moment, she nods. "So, how many more are you interviewing?" "You're that last of them." She says, leaning back in her chair and sighing. "So when do I start?" he says, with a grin. "A little presumptuous, aren't we?" "I'm sitting here, aren't I? If you'd wanted one of the others, I wouldn't have been interviewed." She laughs, shaking her head out of amusement. "Okay... Okay, yes you've got the job. Starting a week today?" "Sure. See you then." He stands and they shake hands before he re-buttons his jacket and leaves. She stands bemused as he closes the door behind him. At least it was one problem fixed.

Chapter XXIII - A Spy in Space 26th September 1958 Cartographer-1 was assembled under a cloud, and a hush fell over the base as the launch day drifted closer. The weather had closed in, turning everyone's cheerful fall into a grey, damp, cloudy September with more projected to follow in the months to come. The base looked darker than the Major had ever remembered, even the night before when it had been lit by floodlamps while the Ajax rocket with its new payload was lifted into place. She hoped it was the weather, but it probably had more to do with the guards who had suddenly sprung up all over the base. She didn't know why, but it surprised and even slightly shocked her to see weaponry being carried so openly around the facilities. Sure, the Major and the other officers all carried their side-arms when they remembered too, but the rifles the USAF personnel carried were much more obvious, less easy to ignore. She was saddened by it almost, this slight loss of civilian innocence that came with the presence of such a stark military presence. It was down to them that the Doctor swept into her office early on the morning of the launch. "I'm not happy about this Major, not one bit." The Doctor said, closing the door softly behind him. Even in anger, he was such a careful man. "Doctor? Is it the weather? We can always-" "Of course it's not the weather, Major. I can stand a little inclemency." He said, taking a seat. "You know as soon as that rocket goes up, we are complicit in spying on another sovereign nation." She nods. "Well... yes. Doctor, I didn't think you had any real issue with this." "How could I not? Jane, I thought the start of this... this enterprise of ours was the beginning of a new age, not simply another way for the government to peek over the neighbours fence." "It's not, Doctor. This isn't our sole remit, we are primarily here to broaden our horizons." "Then why work with them on this?" "Do you think I had a choice?" She sighs, taking her seat opposite him. "Doctor, while it's not our mission, it's also not coming out of our pocket. You know the Air Force is funding this?" He nods "Did you know they've over funded this launch, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future?" "They're... paying us for this?" He says, looking lost. "Essentially, yes. You know how tight our budget is, I can't afford not to work with them on this. The more of these we launch, the more launches of our own we can fund. Hell, I could hardly refuse their request with the current incumbent." "He's one of yours, isn't he?" "Retired senior officer, well respected and a war veteran. I'm pretty sure he's the reason they picked an army officer to head up SREP. So you see, I have little option." "I... I suppose I can see the pressures you're under. But I want it noted that I work on these projects under protest." "I don't think I can argue with that Doctor. Would you prefer to appoint a second for military programs?" He frowns, pondering the idea. "You know, I hadn't considered... Well, there is one member of my staff. I'll talk to them." He smiles for the first time since coming in. "May I?" "Of course, Doctor. Good day." At Midday on the 26th, the Ajax carrying Cartographer-1 lifted from the pad and shot into the sky. The base was strangely quiet as it did so, the observation bunker near deserted. Most of the staff had chosen to return home for the duration, and only mission essential staff were onsite, them and the senior staff who considered it their duty to remain. Even the small crowds that normally dotted the fence at prime viewing points were diminished or missing entirely. The Major hoped it was the bad weather or the cold. SREP could do with as little bad publicity as possible. However, she was almost certain it was down to the grim faced, armed and uniformed soldiers who were strung out along the fence, preventing any observers from coming too close. She wondered if they knew what they were guarding. Perhaps they had been told it was simply a weather satellite, just like everyone else, just like the press releases had said. She didn't doubt that any of them would have had a problem like Pickering's, they had all chosen to serve their country after all. She shook her head, refocused. Cartographer was lifted into a perfect orbit by the now well tested Ajax booster, stage separation functioning exactly as planned, on time and without problem. Once there, the payload rotated and fired its own engine, moving its orbit until it was crossing the planet almost vertically. Every day, the satellite would cross both the North and South poles, another first for SREP. At just 500 kilometres or so, it was close to the edge of the atmosphere, but even so, they had managed to perform the mission exactly as the Air Force had wanted. A few minutes after the satellite was established to be in its promised orbit, the staff performed another new duty. For the first time, control of a satellite was transferred away from Mission Control, crossing instantly to an eerily similar bunker on the West Coast, under Vandenberg Air Force Base. There, USAF staff and junior elements of Major Wolcott's group would conduct the mission and the final stages which would include the return of an intelligence module from the satellite. But that wouldn't be for nearly two weeks, long after the staff at Canaveral had almost forgotten the mission. The Major walked back to her office with only a half hearted sense of accomplishment. Sure, they had performed their mission expertly, but at what cost. She felt like they had lost some sort of civilian naivety, the Air Forces blunt military presence cutting away at their almost childlike aim to reach the stars and bringing them back to Earth. She hated herself for it, and not simply because of the terrible pun that her mind had spat out. She wanted to be like the Doctor, to protest the Air Forces interference and to send them away, to leave SREP alone and let it fly for the good of humanity and the world at large. But she was Army, and SREP was only as civilian as the United States of America was and to be honest, the nation wasn't very peaceful. She sighed as she let herself back into her office. Perhaps the next few launches would bring them back on track. Or maybe Harriet could cheer her up. Perhaps another dinner date was called for. Media: Picture taken of the launch of Cartographer-1. Photographer unknown, despite efforts to trace them by intelligence services. Classified impression of Cartographer-1 in orbit, in mission configuration. Blueprint of Cartographer-1, showing return payload.

Chapter XXII - Astronaut Selection 14th September 1958 "Arthur!" Jane breaks into a broad smile as the older man steps through the door, closing it behind him. "It's been months. You don't call, you don't write." She says, teasing him. They shake hands and he takes a seat opposite her. "You got my reports, I assume?" She nods, frowning. "I did, they were all... interesting, to say the least. Are you okay, Arthur?" "Just tired Major. I do not think I can make it around the country a second time." He gives her a wan smile. "Very well. I'll try to keep this short then. I noticed the bases you visited weren't entirely welcoming?" "Oh, they were welcoming enough, especially the Army and Marines. They simply did not seem that interested in what SREP was doing." "Hence the low application number" The Major said, leaning back in her chair. "How many was it, 90?" He nods "We wanted more than 200-" "I tried, Major. I have given talks, held private conversation, I have even gone through the benefits of being seconded to us. There was little interest... I do not think they believe we can do it." "Did Orbiter really do us that much damage?" "Essentially, yes. The media has had little interest in our last few launches. We are not getting the right sort of attention, if we get any at all." He said, fishing an old paper out of his suitcase. It's folded back, showing an inside page title reading 'Orbital Failure; Can SREP really be trusted?'. "Ouch... That hurts." "It does, and not just our feelings. Major, have you thought about hiring someone to deal with public relations?" "I hadn't, no. You think it would be appropriate?" "I doubt we have a choice. We need to start dealing with this before we put a man in space. Do you think we will recieve the funding we need if the public really thinks this of us?" "No, that's true... I'll get someone on it." She lets out a long sigh. "This job is far more complicated that I was promised... Okay, tell me about these candidates." Arthur nods, pulling a second packet of papers out of his case. "90 individuals aged 25 to 30, 1,800 flight hours and holding bachelors degree's or higher. Fifty are from the Air Force, twenty-eight from the Navy, and the rest are Army and Marine test pilots." "The Colonels really came through then... They're all jet pilots?" "All but ten or so. We have some veterans who stopped flying after the transfer to jets in six or seven years ago." "No, they're not current enough. They're gone... Strange question, how many are over six feet?" He shrugs and they split the papers, shuffling through them quickly. Eventually they both have a small stack of tall pilots. "Toss them. The smaller they are, the lighter they'll be." "Very well. What about selecting for low weights then? Under 80 kilograms?" She nods and they shuffle through their papers again, again splitting out a group and discarding them. "I've got eleven. You?" "Ten, Major." "Good. Send invited to them, we'll begin a testing and training program immediately. Once you've got them undergoing that, I want a report on them. The best six of the group will be part of the first flight program." "Ah, so we are going to do more than simply fly?" Arthur says with a smile. "Of course, Mr Roth. Get on now, I'm sure you have plenty to do." "Thank you, Major." - - - Updated - - - The person who does all the flying is back tonight, I'll see what we can do There's not that many flying though. Relay 1 and 2, Orbiter 3, 4 and 5... I think that's it.

Chapter XXI - Higher, Faster August 28th 1958 "Doctor Pickering" Jane said, waving the man into her office. "Orbiter-5's launch went well." They'd sent the probe up on one of their remaining few RL-3's several days previously. "Yes, it did" He said, taking a seat. "We've got some of the first telemetry analysed as well. Oh, one thing. We got some of it's data via your Lieutenants relay satellite. Could you pass along my congratulations the next time you see her?" "What makes you think I'll see her before you do Doctor?" The man smiles and raises his eyebrows. "Major... As much as I may be an old Englishman, I still notice when two young people are making doe eyes at each other." She turns red and looks at her desk, embarrassed. "Oh come, it's nothing to be ashamed of. As far as I know, most of the staff think you're being very sweet, and you do make a rather fetching couple-" "Doctor, we are not a couple!" "Are you not?" He makes a noise of disbelief. "Perhaps I'm mistaken then. Anyway, Orbiter-5" "Yes, you said you had some results." "I do, but they're not as encouraging as we had hoped. Although it achieved some five thousand kilometres altitude at the highest point, we have yet to find the projected upper edge of this belt." The Major leans back in her chair and sighs. "You're going to need to fly more missions then?" "Yes" The Doctor nods, "But it's more likely we'll need to switch the Ajax before we'll be able to fly any more considerable missions. The current booster simply doesn't cut it for the altitudes we need to fly our research payloads out to." "You realise this means we're only flying Ajax's?" "Is that a problem, Major? Surely it means that by the time Mr. Roth's plan comes to fruition, it will be a well proven design." She pauses before responding "I suppose so. We're relying on a single production line though, and that's... we will be severely delayed if anything threatens it." "Then we must hope nothing does happen to it." The Doctor says, making to leave. "I will plan Orbiter-6 for Ajax then. When is Arthur back, by the way?" "Middle of next month, hopefully with a truck load of pilots. He's been interviewing them as he goes along." She shrugs. "It seemed the quickest way to make a primary assessment." "Ah, well, we must hope he has been met with success. Good day, Major." "See you later, Doctor. Best of luck with the next design." He smiles and walks out, closing the door behind him. The Major tried to focus on her paperwork after the Doctor left, but it quickly proved impossible. She threw down her pen and stood, walking over to the window. The base was relatively quiet, as it always was for a few days after a successful launch. People were checking data, cleaning up for the next launch, or recovering from the inevitable post-launch parties. Even Harriet hadn't managed to close those down, and Jane had a feeling the Chief positively encouraged them. In the distance, she could see the two new launch pads under construction. If SREP's launch rate continued to increase in pace as it already had, they would need even more of them twelve months hence. She could imagine it, an enormously long row of pads, stretching for miles down the coastline. She imagined a new rocket being launched every day, building space stations, taking people to the moon, or even beyond... She had found herself perusing the worst of budget science fiction magazines recently. They were certainly entertaining in their grandiose impressions of future space travel. Jane only hoped that one day they would see something similar in real life. She shook her head to clear it and walked to the door, pulling on her jacket as she went. She buttoned it as she trotted down the stairs and headed for the Flight Planning offices on the ground floor. "Harriet, got a minute?" She said as she stepped through the door, scanning the office as she did so. "Major, sure." The other woman stands, leading the Major into her office and closing the door behind her. "Is there a problem?" "Uh... no, no there isn't. Pickering sends his thanks for Relay-2 by the way. He's impressed." "He would be, it's a good system. It'll be better once a full ring is up there." The Lieutenant says, leaning against her desk. They are silent for a beat, and then another. "You came down here just to tell me that?" "No, I..." She paused and decided to be honest. "The Doctor said we make a cute couple." Jane turns red in saying it, followed a moment later by Harriet. "Oh..." "Oh what?" "It's just the Doc, it's fine-" "It's not just Pickering. Apparently most of those on base think we're 'sweet'." Jane says, crossing her arms. "Oh..." Harriet repeats, biting her lip. "What are we going to do, Harriet?" "Well... Is it really a bad thing?" "I've got a good portion of my staff thinking I'm getting shacked up with a junior officer. How could that not be a bad thing!" Harriet's face drops, and she crosses her own arms. "Oh, Harriet, no that's not what I meant." "What did you mean then?" She says quietly. "I meant... Harriet, we've not even talked about this yet. We've gone for dinner a few times... What am I supposed to say?" "Why don't you tell me how you feel?" Harriet says, looking the Major in the eyes. "Are you just trying to 'shack up' with me?" "No... I like you. You're a great asset here." The junior snorts derisively. "Jesus, Harriet, what am I supposed to say. I really like you. When we have dinner, I don't want the night to end. I want... I want you, with me." "I know." The younger woman said, and then she kissed her. Jane took a moment to wonder exactly how Harriet had managed to close the space between them without her noticing, then cleared her mind and focused on the fact that this woman, this beautiful, intelligent woman, was kissing her. A few seconds later it broke, and they each took a deep breath. "Maybe we do make a cute couple." Harriet said, smiling. "Maybe we do. Dinner tonight?" Jane grinned at the woman in her arms. "Sure. Your place this time though. You get to cook." She kissed Jane again, quicker this time. "Go on now, Major. I've got work to do." Jane turned around and left, red faced, and went back to her office.

Chapter XX - Big Plans, Bigger Sky 16th July 1958 Late on the 16th, the engine on the Doctor's re-entry probe fired for but a moment, dropping its flight path into Earth's atmosphere. The booster detaches after its perfect re-entry burn, allowing the probe to correct its own trajectory. It smashed into the thicker air travelling at several times the speed of sound, the shield beneath it slowly turning a bright orange colour. Flames licked at the edge of the pad, only the shockwave in front of the probe keeping them away from the sensitive electronics behind it. It slowed rapidly as it descended, meeting thicker and thicker air, until finally it came within a few kilometres of the surface of the water. A hatch blew open and a small drogue chute unfurled, giving a sharp tug on the probe and slowing it further. Finally a second hatch blew and the main chute opened. The probe descended slowly, but certainly not gracefully, to the surface. "Chief. Doctor Pickering. Congratulations are in order, I think? The first production launch of an Ajax, the first booster restart in orbit, a safe return." She smiles at them both, an expression they return. "It could hardly have been more successful, no." The Doctor says. "Now we just have to see if Chief Marshall can still fly the old rockets." "Come on, Doc, course I can. Your little rocket will go up like a dream." "Are you certain, Chief? Can you really step back after the glory of Ajax..." Jane almost cuts him off before she see's the twinkle in the British scientists eye. "Doc, please, the RL-3 is easy. We'll have no trouble." "Well, if you're absolutely sure..." He smiles at the other man. "Excuse me, Major, I have work to do."

Chapter XIX(a) 15th July 1958 "So every day it comes around again and we get a solid connection with London, for a few minutes." Harriet says, finishing her briefing. The two women were sitting in Jane's office both with a cup of coffee each, going over the previous day's success. "What can I say, I'm impressed." Jane says, leaning back in her chair. "It's not doing anything for us though, is it. Having a relay up there is useful for twenty minutes a day." "Don't tell me you're unhappy that it works?" "Unhappy!" Harriet laughs "No, not at all. It's just not doing much for us. We can't use it to talk to anyone else for anything more than brief periods. It won't be at all useful for talking to anything in orbit." "So, fix it." "What do you mean fix it?" "I mean how can you make it useful?" "On it's own it can't be, it would take a ring of satellites to provide anything near constant communication, maybe two. Even then there would be gaps." "How many satellites in each ring?" Harriet thinks for a moment, staring at Jane. "You're serious aren't you." The Major shrugs. Harriet makes some brief notes on a pad. "Five, six, maybe even eight satellites in the ring. A dipole for cross-communication added to the hardware, and a software upgrade to allow them to bounce signals off each other." She pauses. "It won't be a particularly secure network if we keep broadcasting in the clear." "I'll make sure to tell the military not to send secrets through it then." Jane says with a smirk. "'The military'? Are you not counting yourself a member, Major?" "If the military had really wanted me, Lieutenant, I'd be serving on one of their bases, not seconded to a civilian posting." "Regretting it? I mean, I'm in the same position." Jane lets out a sigh. "No, Harriet, no. I'm sorry, I'm a little disenchanted that's all. Working here has been amazing. We've done great things, I've met... I've met the best people." She gives the Lieutenant a pointed look and the other women flushes red. "Put together a launch schedule for the first relay network. Before tonight." "Why before tonight?" "Because we're going to discuss it over dinner." The Major pauses, smiling. "Go on. You'd best get started if you're going to be ready in time." The Lieutenant stands and stutters her way through a good bye before hurrying out of the office.

Chapter XIX - Upgraded Relays 14th July 1958 "Harriet" The Major calls out, stopping the young Lieutenant as she strides across the parking lot. She looks back, shading her eyes from the sinking sun and smiles as Jane hustles over. "Major Wolcott. I thought I'd given enough of my time today." "Apparently not. You've been avoiding me Lieutenant." "Not avoiding as such... I thought we were doing away with ranks." She says, leaning against her car. "You started it." the younger woman thinks for a moment, then raises her hands. "You got me. Did you read my report?" "About Relay-2? It's going to be severely over mass, you said" "It's the only way of getting solar intake high enough to power the damned thing." Jane smirks, then blanches as Harriet gives her a sharp look. "Sorry, I don't think I've ever heard you swear. Go on." "What else is there to say. I don't think we can design a satellite that can always be on and functionally useful and still be launched on an RL-3." They stand in silence for a moment, the Major looking at her feet. "So don't." She finally says. "What?" "We'll shift the Relay program onto Ajax launches. I'll talk to the chief about getting the first one ready for August." The Major smiles at the Navy officer "How about it?" "Uh... Yeah, that would be great." She stands, looking back to the office. "I guess I need to go make some plans..." "You can go back to your paperwork tomorrow. Come on, there's a restaurant just off the base. We'll talk there." They settled into a booth in the restaurant and made small talk as they ordered dinner. They were the only two uniforms in the place, their sharply cut greens and blue's clashing with the crumpled workmen sprawled across the bar. "I didn't think this would be your sort of place, Major." Jane raises an eyebrow. "Jane, sorry." Harriet says, and they both laugh. "What can I say, I'm a sucker for good coffee." "I'm amazed you haven't dipped into the budget for a new machine yet." She takes a sip from the mug in front her and her eyes widen. "Is that what real coffee tastes like? It's been so long..." Jane fights down a laugh, frowning at the Lieutenant instead. "You really think I'd embezzle funds from SREP for personal usage? Harriet, I'm hurt." The woman's face turns from a smile to a look of shock in a moment and she begins to stutter. "Jane, Major, No... I never meant-" She stops as she see's the Major biting her lip. "You... You're teasing me." "I couldn't resist." Harriet makes a face and looks into her coffee. "You're pouting." The Major says. "I'm not pouting." "You are, and you're going to have to stop if we're ever going to be able to talk shop." "Too distracting for you, Major?" She says, stressing the last word with a grin. "A little." She says, and is treated to another of the Lieutenants blushes. "Now, you quoted 300 kilograms minimum yes? Well, with the Ajax..." And with that, their conversation goes back to their work. After the meal, Harriet drives the Major back to Canaveral in a comfortable silence, before saying her goodbye's and driving home. 17th August 1958 Relay-2 launched early on the 17th, the heavy Ajax rocket lofting it out of the atmosphere. And compared to the payloads that Ajax was designed to carry the Relay satellite essentially was nothing. That's why, in front of the Relay satellite, the engineer's had mounted yet another of the Doctor's re-entry payloads. They'd proved a safe return once, but had it been luck or could they do it again? With the spare payload space on the Relay/Ajax, it had given him the perfect moment to find out. Like every previous launch, the Ajax shot vertically into the air and began to turn as it dwindled from view. High in the atmosphere the rocket leaned over, a little slower than it had on previous launches, and then released the first stage. As the projected upper limit of its flight reached 3000 kilometres above the Earth's surface, the rocket rotated all the way over, firing the second stage and accelerating it into a near-perfect circular orbit. Eventually it detached the second stage as it ran out of fuel. 3000 kilometres above the earth's surface, Relay-2 unfolded its solar-absorbent wings and began transmitting. "Dr Pickering, if you'd do the honours." Jane said, handing him the telephone handset. She could see the old man was shaking slightly, hopefully at the momentous nature of that moment in the fading summer of 1958. He took it and held it to his ear. "Hello, London. This is Michael Pickering speaking from Canaveral in the United States of America." There is silence, a faint crackling from the telephone the only sign of a connection. After a moment, faint and somewhat spoiled by interference, comes the first satellite communication to cross the Atlantic. "Hello, Canaveral, this is London speaking. You're late." Media: Artists impression of Relay-2 unfolded in orbit

Chapter XVIII - Orbital Return 3rd July 1958 Six weeks after Relay-1 was deployed and performed the first transmissions from orbit, SREP launched the second of its new Ajax rockets, testing it's ability to deliver a satellite into orbit as the RL-3 combination had been doing for some months. The Major watched from the observation bunker as the powerful looking rocket lifted from the pad and sped into the sky, leaving her wondering when she'd see a person board one of them. Ten minutes after the launch, the two metre wide probe was in orbit and still attached to the booster that had placed it there. Thanks to Relay-1's efforts, the staff had learned the value of a stable near-circular orbit, and the test craft was rotating around the earth between 400 and 460 kilometres up. An hour and a half later, the probe was coming back into communication range of Canaveral and the Major had descended into the mission control room to watch the final stages of the mission. "Spec, begin hardware restart." "Hardware restarting, Control... board is green." "Flight? Booster ready for re-ignition?" "Ready on your go, Control. Craft prepared for re-entry burn." "Okay, set for burn and lock controls." The team settled down to wait as the small craft continued its rotation around the planet. For the probe to come down in the landing zone just off the East coast, it would have to fire its booster on the other side of the planet. There had been some concerns of re-igniting the booster, especially without having a connection too it, but after the success of relay-1's second burn placing it in a higher orbit, everyone felt confident. Even so, nothing had ever been brought back down to the surface from orbit. Hell, it had only been six months since they first put something up there. The Major silently gave thanks for the armies research in how to return weapons to the surface from extremely high altitude. Without that, this mission wouldn't have been possible for years. The hour and a half passed quietly, as the team tried to relax. Cigarettes were lit and smoked, followed by more. Soon the room had a thin haze, and the smell of boiled coffee was heady in the air. Finally, the probe came around and everyone prepared for the few moments of connection that would let them confirm the landing zone. "Control, we have a problem." Madeline, the flight planning officer, said into the quiet. "Craft is still in orbit. Looks like the booster has failed to ignite." Every head in the room swivelled to look at her, and Lieutenant Howarths jumped out of his seat and went over to her console. "You've checked everything?" "It's all good, everything should be working." The man slaps his hand down on the edge of the console. "Goddamn..." The room falls silent, expressions downcast at the thought of another failed mission. "Control? I've got an idea." Charlotte says quietly a minute later, sketching on her pad. "I'll take anything you've got." "The orientation control system on the probe. We should be able to fire it in such a way that it produces enough thrust to bring the probe back down." "No shoulds, can you do it?" She nods more confidently "What do you need?" "Maddy, one of the engineers who worked on the probe and a couple of hours?" "Get to it then." Charlotte walks out of the room, followed by Madeleine, both of them carrying their notes. "Charlie, lock down their consoles, will you? Then go see if you can help." The senior of the two officers nods, and gets to work securing the control stations the two women had left. Sam walks over to the Major, frowning. "Major, if this plan works... It's going to take a while. The control systems weren't designed with long burns in mind, not the sort that they'll be making to bring the probe back down." "Is that going to be a problem?" Jane says, standing. "Not for us. The recovery crew is going to be hanging around for a while though." She smiles at him. "I'll talk to the Navy. I'm sure they'll absolutely hate a few more hours of flying one our dollar." He nods in agreement, returning her smile. She left and headed out of the control room and back to the administration building. She had a few calls to make which she was sure would lead to an even better relationship with the navy. Several hours later, the tiny probe had separated from its booster and begun the first of its re-entry burns. Sam had been right, the nozzles on the probe would not stand up to prolonged firing, but the team had come up with a unique solution. The probe would fire it's motors for a minute, then spin 180 degrees and fire the unused nozzles for another minute. It gave the nozzles time to cool as it span again and again, repeating the manoeuvre several times. Then it span around the planet once more until it was back in position to fire its motors again. A slow process, the staff at Canaveral had no option but to wait through the incredibly lengthy set of manoeuvres as the probe pushed itself down towards the denser atmosphere. Finally it dropped low enough for the atmosphere to cause noticeable drag on its wide base, creating considerable deceleration. It finally splashed down in the ocean as the sun began to sink behind the horizon, ready to be picked up by the small fleet of Navy ships stationed around its landing zone. 5th July 1958 "Call for you Major." The corporal says, leaning through the door. "Put it through please." She picks up the handset and waits for the click of a connection being made. "Major Wolcott speaking." "Major, Colonel Taft here." "I wondered when I'd hear from you Colonel. What can I do for you?" "We've seen the details of the last Ajax flight. We were impressed by the accuracy of your teams landing despite the troubles they faced." "We haven't released a public statement yet Colonel. Do you have someone on my staff?" "Please, Major, would we really be so flagrant with the information we received." She stays silent until he continues. "We'd like to proceed with Cartographer. We can fund the hardware and payload, but construction and flight will be SREP's responsibility, agreed?" "Certainly. Boosters will have to be funded separately from the payload and any unused boosters will be used at SREP's discretion." It's the colonels turn to be silent and she can hear rapid discussion in the background. "Agreed, if you can fly the first Cartographer by September." "October." "Late September, Major, or you won't see any Air Force funding." "How many flights?" "Five before the end of 1959. More, if those are successful." "Very good, Colonel. We'll start scheduling." "Thank you, Major. I'm sure you'll hear from us soon." The line goes dead and she puts the handset down, shaking her head. She'd have to go and talk to the doctor again.

Chapter XVII - Another step 8th June 1958 A knock on the door makes the Major look up from her desk. Arthur Roth is standing in the doorway, looking more sheepish than she had ever seen him before. She waves him in and he closes the door, taking a seat opposite. "Anything the matter Arthur?" She says, straightening to look him in the eye. "I, uh... I have been suggesting manned space-flight to you for some time, I know." She nods, gesturing for him to continue. "I have been putting some thought into time scales for such a project, after the recent re-entry success. I appear to have come up against a problem." "A problem? Arthur, after the Doctor's experiments, I thought we had decided-" "Oh, it is not a problem of safety, as much as an organisational one. For this mission we are going to need, along with everything else, pilots, yes?" "Of course. Without the people, there's not really much point of having a crewed mission." "Exactly. But Major, none of us are pilots. Oh, I'm sure the Lieutenants in mission control might have done some flying, but they are certainly not the sort of people we're going to need for flying rockets, are they?" They're silent for a moment, looking at each other wordlessly. "Where are we going to get experienced- Military test pilots." She leans her elbows on the edge of the desk and puts her head in her hands. "The Chief already cost me enough with the Navy, now I've got to go begging to the Air Force as well?" "Actually, I think all the services have test pilots." "Thank you Arthur, yes." She sighs quietly before drawing herself up. "Okay. Have you given any thought to the sort of training program they're going to have to go through?" "I believe a three phase program of medical, physical and intellectual training would suffice for our first group." "Our first?" "Of many, I would hope. After initial selection, training would last 18 months to two years to prepare them for every aspect of space flight and for further missions beyond the simple attainment of placing a human in space. If we can select our first group in the next six months, I predict the first of them achieving flight readiness in late 1960 to early 1961." "You're serious." "Totally Major. I simply hadn't realised how short time was until I began putting down on paper a more rigorous plan." She bites her lip, tapping a finger on the edge of the desk, thinking hard. Eventually she shakes her head and smiles. "Okay. Corporal!" She calls out. A moment later her aide pokes their head around the office door. "Major?" "Come in, please. I need you to draft up a message to all armed services and major flight industry suppliers with test flight programs. Inform that SREP is interested in recruiting a limited number of pilots for a confidential space flight program, and request a list of names, with records, by... September." The young NCO notes the Major's request down quickly before leaving again without a word. A moment later, the clatter of a typewriter can be heard from the outer office. "Well then Arthur. You've got your wish. You get to figure out what facilties and staff you'll need though. I'm giving you a new title, head of the astronaut program." She'd hoped for at least a little surprise, but all she got was a bright smile and a happy grin. "Thank you Major, I am very grateful. I wont let you down." "I'm sure. Just, please, don't be asking for too much of my budget. I realise how expensive this is going to be, but if SREP can't control its budget infaltion..." "Then the government will have to learn exactly what it is asking of us, and pay the price." "You know it doesn't work like that Arthur." "I know, Major. I wish you luck with your budgets. I'm going to go and plan some additions to the base." He leaves with a grin and what can only be described as a spring in his step. She smiles and goes back to her work, though inside she is pleased that things are progressing so rapidly. 23rd June 1958 "Um, Major? There's two officers from the Air Force here to see you." The Major stands, gesturing to the Corporal to let them in. The two men, both in full uniform and with Colonel's rank pins. One closes the door, the other standing in front of her desk. She glances at the somewhat crumpled uniform jacket slung untidily over one end of her desk and feels a brief moment of self-conciousness at the state of what she was wearing. "Sorry gentlemen, no-one informed me you were coming. I hope you found your way easily enough." "Considering what we're here to discuss, we figured it would be best we not advertise ourselves particularly." The Major fought the urge to roll her eyes. Despite the service separation, a pair of full-bird colonels could still break her."I'm Colonel Taft, this is Colonel Jameson." They all shake hands, finally sitting. Jameson opens his briefcase and hands the Major several papers. "We've been following SREP's work with some interest, especially the recent launches of the Ajax rocket. In particular, we're interested in the theoretical ability to return an object from orbit." "The Army's been doing what we did for years, why are you coming to us?" "I said orbit, Major, not a sub-orbital trajectory. We've seen the flight plan for your next Ajax test." She was almost surprised by that. They were trying to keep it relatively quiet. But then when could any part of the United States keep a secret from another. She looked down at the papers for the first time, scanning them quickly. "Cartographer?" "On the face of it, a geographical mapping satellite. The payload will be a camera package, with one or more capsules for the safe return of undeveloped film to CONUS or the surrounding waters." "On the face of it? If I took a wild guess and said this wouldn't be taking pictures of our allies coast lines, I wouldn't be far wrong, would I." "The satellite would need to be placed into an orbit that would cross both Central Europe and Central Asia, yes." She's silent for a long minute, studying the papers. "I'm sure if we could work this into SREP's plans, the Air Force would be more than happy to consider allowing additional test pilots to volunteer for your space flight program." The Major gives the Colonel a sharp look, frowning. Eventually she nods. "Very well. I'll have to take these for our engineers to look at. I'll be sure to keep them secure, don't worry." "Thank you Major." And with that the two senior officers leave without a second glance.

Chapter XVI - Speaking From Space 24th April 1958 After two days at sea aboard the USS Ticonderoga, followed by another day in transit to SREP by air, the test payload was finally back with them. Doctor Pickering had immediately secreted it in one of his laboratories, applying himself to the task of working out exactly what had happened after they'd lost contact with it. Jane visited him the next day, stepping into a room filled with hard working scientists and researchers. The two meter wide probe dominated the room, despite it's relatively small size. It was charred along the bottom and edges, where the heat of re-entry had stripped away the surface layers and torn at the pad underneath it. All but a tiny stub of the antenna was missing, presumably torn away as the craft fell back to the surface. The Major looked it over as she leaned against the wall, keeping out of the way until the Doctor noticed her. He looked up from a set of papers and handed them off to a junior before he looked her way at last. "Major. I thought I'd see you down here at some point." "I could barely keep away. Have you learned anything?" He smiles and nods, turning to look at the probe. "Well, yes and no. Obviously it's going to take a lot of work to really get everything out of this that we can. Even so, we have learned some basics from it. The pad functioned exactly as it should have, absorbing heat and burning away in layers as it became too hot. The fact that the probe survived at all implies that though." He said, cane tapping on the ground as he thought. "Then there's the accelerometer. We had a basic one mounted simply to figure out how touch re-entry was on the probe." "That makes a lot of sense. We're going to need to know what's its like coming back." "Exactly. Except the meter came back stuck at 15 G's, and it seems to have reached that around eleven minutes after launch. We're not sure how much higher it might have gotten, or how long that level of force was experienced for, but even brief exposure to those levels might be..." "An issue for a person, yes. More tests?" "It would appear necessary, yes." "Okay. Can you have another one ready for July? The Chief is planning his next full scale test for the first week." "If we can reuse as much of this one as I'd like too, refurbishment shouldn't take longer than a few weeks. With additional hardware, I don't see why not." "Good. Keep me updated, okay?" "Of course, Major." She steps out of the laboratory and walks off down the corridor, feeling significantly better than she had a week before. May 20th 1958 Relay-1, mounted atop an RL-3 booster, lifted into orbit early in the afternoon of the 20th. At half past two in the afternoon, the mission control staff shut down it's booster before it could expend all of its propellant. As the tiny satellite span around the Earth at monumental velocities, the men and women who had successfully put it there stretched, drank the thick, bitter coffee that SREP was becoming infamous for and ate cold meat sandwiches. It wasn't much of a meal, Jane thought as she shared in it from the back of the room, but it was something to keep them going for the few hours it would take them to complete the mission. At quarter past three the team began the steps to restart the hardware on Relay-1, one of the first real tests of the system. As expected, bringing it back on was simple, as was initiating the program for a circularisation burn at 15:25. As the space craft left Canaveral's line of communication, it was circling the planet between 660 and 780 kilometres up. It would be nearly two hours before it was back with them and they were ready to perform the last stages of the mission. Even so, the control team wasn't allowed to leave other than for brief comfort breaks. No one was taking the chance of a loss of mission-critical staff because someone chose that moment to take a tumble down the stairs. Finally, at quarter past four, on the afternoon of the 20th, Relay-1 was ready for it's final preparations. The booster was separated after the satellite was rotated into the proper orientation. Antenna's, extended for several hours by this point, had their final tests done. Eventually the satellite was ready. At 16:30 on the East Coast, at 21:30 in Britain, at 13:30 on the West Coast, for the very first time, a voice was heard from orbit: "This is the President of the United States speaking. Through the marvels of scientific advance, my voice is coming to you from a satellite circling in outer space. My message is a simple one: Through this unique means I convey to you and to all mankind, America's wish for peace on Earth and goodwill toward men everywhere." Media:http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/cf/SCORE_Audio.ogg An audio recording of the President's address. An artists impression of Relay-1 in orbit.

Chapter XV - Ajax Ascendant 17th April 1958 "She looks good, Chief." The Major was watching the first of the chiefs new heavy lift rockets being hauled onto the launch pad when the man walked over to her. "Sure does. I can't believe we've reached flight test in five months." "No, I can't. What'd you do? Skew the test results? Bribe your engineers to work nights?" She nudges him playfully "Is that rocket in fact made of plywood and glue?" He laughs, turning to look back at his new toy. "Finckley bought his team take-out every night to get them to stay late. Pretty sure he's got a few wives and girlfriends to answer to if this doesn't work." "Still doubting, Chief?" "Nah, the kid does good work. Orbiter-3 was a total coup for him. He basically took over designing the upper stage for Ajax." He gestures to the new rocket as he speaks. "And you let him?" She glances at him, eyebrows raised. The Chief shrugs "He's got a talent. Hypergolics, high altitude staging... If it lets me work on the main booster, who am I to complain." "Fair enough." She pauses for a moment, watching the work being done on the pad. "What's the payload?" "Something the Doc cooked up. Some weights, a couple batteries and a trajectory control system. Oh, and a repeater like Orbiter-3 carried. A big, heavy, cheap satellite basically." "That's a lot of money to waste on something that's going to be ash in a few hours." He gives her a sly smile, wagging a raised finger. "Not quite. The Doc put a big version of the army's Weapon Delivery Pads on the bottom. Should let it survive coming back down." "A survivable probe. Sounds interesting. Where's it coming down?" "Mid-atlantic, on parachutes." She nods, then her brow furrows. "How are you going to recover it?" "I, uh... I don't know. I guess I hadn't thought about it?" Her frown turns into a sharp look. "Right. And how pleased do you think the President's going to be if the German's or the Russian's get their hands on that pad first?" "I'm guessing not very?" "No, Chief, not very pleased at all. I'm going to go speak to CINCLANT, see if the Navy can divert some ships for recovery of your little toy." "Sorry boss. I didn't think-" "Maybe you should start, Chief. And that's Major." She turned and marched off, leaving the man alone on the edge of the launch field. 19th April 1958 She hadn't meant to get so upset with the Chief Engineer, but by god he had to learn to thing about the results of his actions before he did anything stupid. Thanks to him, she'd had to promise the Commander Atlantic Fleet that the cost of the deployment of a single carrier patrol force would come out of SREP's budget, not the Navy's. As if the sailors didn't have enough money as it was. Not only that, but they'd had to put back the launch by a day so that the ships could get into position. Maybe she should dock the Chief's pay to cover it. She sighed heavily. Maybe the relaxed atmosphere around SREP facilities was getting a little too relaxed, but it had been so nice to be able to kick back and do without the formality of military service. Even so, it was making it difficult to manage the program adequately. Maybe she needed more oversight, or more people she could trust to delegate work too. She thought the Chief could handle that, but apparently not. Maybe she needed more officers in senior positions, no matter how stiff they might be. Maybe she needed one officer. She pulled back from the parapet of the observation bunker and blinked. Where had that come from. She shook her head to clear it and was about to go back to her thoughts when the last moments of the countdown interrupted her. Ajax lifted clear from the pad, ascending slowly. She watched it through binoculars until it was just an orange glow atop a pillar of smoke, as it turned away from them and sped into the sky. Three minutes into the flight, the first stage was split from the rocket by explosive bolts, and the smaller second stage fired, pushing it further and faster. At six minutes, it reached the highest point of its flight despite the second stage still burning. It was flying exactly as expected on a fast sub-orbital trajectory, even as it started falling back to Earth. Two and a half minutes later, the second stage separated from the little probe, letting it fall alone into the atmosphere. Faster than the speed of sound it fell, as the first wisps of atmosphere began tugging at it. However, it was falling instruments first. The expressions in the bunker were dour, despite the success of the Ajax flight. If the re-entry section failed, future plans would become much more complicated. But their luck held. Two minutes after final separation, the probe righted itself and began punching into the thicker atmosphere, heat-shield first. There were cheers briefly, until contact was lost with the probe. They hoped its parachutes would deploy. They hoped. 19th April 1958 Atlantic Ocean "This is Able-5, I've got nothing." The pilot of the US Navy fighter swept his eyes back and forth across the wide open ocean, frowning. He looked over his shoulder and shook his head at his wingman, flying the cougar currently sitting 30 feet off his port wing. He switched channels on his radio. "Able-6, this is Able-5. Anything?" "Nothing 5. Wild goose chase if I ever saw one." The woman's voice came clear over the link . "Sure is. Lets do one more sweep, then head for home. I'm getting close to bingo anyway." "Roger that. You've got lead." He pushed the stick over, banking the aircraft round to keep them in their patrol sector. As he brought his wing back down, his wingman squawked in his ear. "Lead, check starboard." He looked over and grinned, throwing the woman in the other fighter a thumbs up before changing his radio back. "Ticonderoga, Able flight reporting. We have eyes on the objective. Good chute, repeat, good chute." Media: The first full Ajax rocket on the pad The test payload and first object to re-enter the atmosphere from space safely. A picture taken by Able-6 of the test payload on descent

Chapter XIV - First Discoveries 18th December 1957 The last month of 1957 was a quiet one for SREP. The work going on was neither as rushed or as tense as it had been before the success of their last launch, and everyone was still riding the wave of enthusiasm that Orbiter-3 had created. As Christmas approached most of the staff whose families still lived away from Canaveral and the growing city left the base, taking accumulated leave to go home for the holiday period. As the base was reduced down to a skeleton staff, the Major took to taking almost daily walks around the various buildings, mainly so she could find out who was left without reading interminable reports. It was on one of these tours, one cool Wednesday afternoon, that the Major came upon Lieutenant MacMillan, almost alone in one of the labs. She was going over paperwork, scribbling furiously on a pad next to her. The Major stepped into the room. "Everything okay Lieutenant?" She says. The woman almost jumps out of her skin, looking up and brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Not particularly. The Doctor was right about the expected power drain for communications." "Too high?" The Major says, and grimaces at the other woman's nod. "Coffee?" "Please. Black, no sugar." She sits up and stretches her back. "We're concerned that high gain transmissions will drain the battery too fast. If it cuts out halfway through a message..." "Then the media tear us a new one, I get it. What about reducing the antenna gain?" "Then we risk not being able to receive the transmissions. As it is I'm already unsure of what transmitting through the ionosphere will do to a message." She and the major both sip their coffee, and Jane made a face. It hadn't got any better. "Well... I'm assuming you're running up against payload weight limits with the battery?" Another silent nod. "You've got time for testing Lieutenant. I'm sure you'll figure it out." "Harriet." "Hmm?" "You used my first name once, I don't mind if you use it again." Jane smiles at the junior officer. "What happened to the military standards of decency?" "We're on a civilian posting Major. I think we can be a little more relaxed around here." They share a laugh. "Just don't tell the Brass." "I won't. And it's Jane. Carry on, Harriet. I'm sure you'll crack it soon enough." The other woman smiles, picking up her pen again. "I'm sure I will. Thanks Ma'am- Jane." January 12th 1958 Jane wondered if every launch would bring new hardware to make them all nervous, or if at some point they would finally have well tested and repeatedly flown equipment. She almost laughed at herself. The first Orbiter failures had infected the program with a sense of despondency and, at least for her, it had been creeping back in on the run up to the launch of Orbiter-4. She hoped it was just her, at least, as she looked out from the observation deck at the distant rocket sitting upright on its stand. It was very slightly taller, thanks to the larger booster and heavier payload, but not enough that you could see it at this distance. Her breath caught as the final moments of the countdown came over the intercom, surprising her. She hadn't realised it had been so long. her hands felt sweaty on her binoculars as the flash of light came under the rocket. It grew into a cloud of smoke until the umbilicals fell away, swinging to the side, and the rocket began to lift ever so slowly from the ground. Soon it was just a bright dot and a trail of smoke, climbing away from Canaveral and into space. The Major took a cup of coffee and a chair, and close her eyes to listen to the mission control crew. The first stage flew perfectly, and separation was flawless. A brief moment of tension at the countdown for the new booster and then that too worked like a charm. The satellite ended its flight in a comfortable 320 by 2800 kilometre orbit, letting the Major breathe easily once more. January 14th 1958 "You've been holed up in here for two days, Doctor." The Major says, leaning against a wall in the brightly lit laboratory. "You're going to have to venture out some time." "Never fear Major, I've been eating regularly." the old man says, laughing as he walks slowly over to her. "What can I do for you then?" "You've had a satellite in orbit specifically for research for two days, what do you think you can do for me." She says, more sternly than she'd meant too. He looked her in the eye and frowned. "An update on progress then?" "Please." "Well... I suppose the biggest news should come first. We managed to prove Birkeland right. He produced a theory on trapped high-energy charged particles in the Earth's magnetosphere. Based on that, a friend of mine up at the University of Iowa convinced me to mount a Geiger-Muller tube on Orbiter-4, and the theory seems to have been correct. There appears to be a ring of radioactive radiation in space around the planet, starting at around six hundred miles up. We're still studying it, and we're feeding data to James' department as it comes in, but it's certainly quite the find." The Major is quiet for a minute. "Radiation... How highly radioactive?" "Uh... we're predicting something along the lines of 25 sieverts per year." "Doctor, that's an incredible amount of radiation." "It's very high, yes, but as far as we can tell, from the edge of the atmosphere up to 600 miles is safe. Or at least from 200 miles or so. By the time we need to fly people higher than that, Major, I'm sure we'll have learnt how to fly rockets shielded from that sort of thing." "I hope so Doctor... Is that what space is like though? Inimicable to human life?" "Birchfield theorised that they end at some unknown altitude, so certainly once outside of this... zone it should be less radioactive. As for inimicable- Major, we are playing a dangerous game here. You plan on putting a man into space, one day someone will lose their life, be it from an exploding rocket or from radiation poisoning or from some other danger we haven't thought of yet. Be prepared for it." "I am Doctor. Or I hope I am."

Chapter XIII - Bulwark of the space program 6th November 1957 "I know I'm hardly the first, but let me formally offer all of you my congratulations." Major Wolcott says, presiding over the first meeting the department heads had held since the success of Orbiter-3. "A year ago, I don't believe anyone in the country thought it would be possible. A month ago, I doubt they thought that we would manage it. But we did, and I'd like you to know I am proud, and honoured to have worked with you through this." She leads them in a brief round of applause, smiling broadly. "Not that our success means we can stop, of course. I know some of you have approached me with ideas for the future of SREP, and they are magnificent ideas." She gestures to Arthur who nods in acknowledgement. "These long term aims, especially putting a person in space, are admirable. But SREP needs some shorter term aims, especially now we've reached our first... milestone. So, to put it simply, has anyone got any idea's?" She opens her hands invitingly, and the Chief's hand immediately goes up. She nods to him. "I have something, before the others say their piece. It might save them some worry, actually. It's a two fold hardware development program. Steven, Finckley that is, thinks he can extend the usefulness of the RL-3 by expanding on his booster design. Initial projections show that almost the same hardware that launched RL-3 could put 100 kilograms into orbit." He pauses, letting them absorb that before continuing. "On a more long term level, SREP needs to expand into designing and constructing it's own large lift capability. 100 kilograms is fine, for now, but if Mr Roth wants to see a man in space some day, we're going to need to be able to build a rocket that would put him there. I would like to propose a booster with a payload of around two tons to be put into service inside of a year." He looks around as Lieutenant MacMillan snorts, looking at him incredulously. "Problem?" "Two tons? Really? We barely managed twenty kilograms a few days ago, and you think you can design something that can put a truck in orbit?" "Given free reign, yeah, I can. Engineering can. Think you'll be able to cope with flying it?" "People, enough please. Thank you chief. Anyone else?" There's a brief pauses before Dr. Pickering leans forward. "I'm going to assume from the success of Orbiter-3, we'll be continuing with the program and launching more rockets which the Chief builds his newest creation?" The Major nods. "Yes, I've had confirmation of that. We'll be receiving a new RL-3 every two months. The Army claims that's all it can spare for the time being." "Well, if that's all we have... I'd like to suggest further launches of the Orbiter program. I was informed before Orbiter-3 that the Finckley booster had more capacity than we were using. I decided to play it safe with the third launch, but with that under our belts, well... I believe we could outfit an Orbiter payload to function as a research satellite. The data it transmits back could be invaluable to the programs future, especially to determine just what a space vehicle for a human would need." "Agreed. Okay Doctor, Chief, I'd like to see actual proposals for the projects inside of two weeks. In the meantime-" "Uh, Major?" Lieutenant Macmillan cuts her off, hand raised. "Something to add, Harriet?" the woman barely covered a grimace at the informal use of her first name. Months with the program hadn't changed her military ways as they had Jane's and the other officers. "Ma'am, if I may. Orbiter-3 achieved orbital speed moments prior to the initial loss of connection, and it's given me an idea. The current way of expanding the communications range of a surface transmitter is to use the ionosphere to bounce signals, yes? What if we were to use a satellite to forward transmissions, unrestricted by the vagaries of the atmosphere. Not only would we be able to use it to maintain telemetry and data transmission from future missions, but I imagine it would be of great use to the government and the armed forces as well." "I assume you have a plan of how to go about deploying something like this?" "If we could develop a way of using a satellite like Orbiter-3 as a... relay, we could do it relatively cheaply I imagine." "Is that even possible? The power drain alone-" The Doctor says, opens a new page on his notepad with a frown and scribbles something down. "Would be high, yes. Major, with your permission I'd like to begin investigating the possibility with assistance from the Doctor's staff." "Yes, of course. It sounds an excellent plan. Doctor, any staff you can spare from your own project, lend them to the Lieutenant please. Two weeks people, that's your deadline. Okay?" They stand and make their way out, hurrying to their respective departments and their respective pet projects. 21st November 1957 The Major had taken several moments to meander around Canaveral's facilities as the weeks passed. Everyone she saw was hard at work, preparing for the next stages of the space program, not a single person slacking off after the successful Orbiter-3 mission. Meanwhile, she had been dealing with the exhausting political side of the program. SREP was going to need a larger budget and more rockets if they were going to do much more than fly tiny satellites into orbit. Luckily she'd managed to secure at least a little more funding, enough for current development strategies. It would need a major coup to truly expand the program though. She had so many plans, and barely enough money for half of them. Now she was sitting back in their meeting room, waiting for the other department heads to arrive with what promised to be an array of expensive but overall useful projects which would be necessary to be flown. She hoped she wouldn't have to cancel anyone's dream project. She stood as the various department heads came into the room, papers under their arms, and waited until they were seated before sitting herself. "Welcome back. Shall we get straight too it?" The doctor nods and the Chief, looking tired, puts his thumbs up. "Well then. Doctor? What do you have?" The man hands out some sketches before he speaks, gathering his thoughts as he does so. "Orbiter-4, as we have so creatively christened this payload design, would be a scientific variant of Orbiter-3. Fitted with gravitometers, thermometers and Geiger counters, we hope to establish a baseline of information for the exo-atmospheric environment which would assist the program in building future satellites and in studying the necessities for allowing the survival of humans in space." He looks up from his pre-prepared speech and glances at his audience. "It also includes a biological study which may allow us to explore what exposure to space would do to living creatures. We could, however, cut that if mass becomes an issue" He says with a smile, almost apologetically. "Okay... Chief, this is quoting 88 kilograms, can we lift that?" "Certainly should be able too. I've got a few plans here that should help." He fishes through his papers until he finds a specific one. "There we go. Finckley's put together an expansion on his original design, calling it the block 2." He places it in the centre of the table. "Higher fuel capacity, and with an additional engine to shorten burn times for large payloads. He think's it'll help reduce burn-out stresses as well, I know that was an issue with Orbiter-3. He says it should be possible to shut down the engines two at a time, maintain the centre of thrust but reduce final TWR." The major nods, gesturing for him to continue. "It should allow for 90 kilogram payloads from the RL-3. Though the Doc will be pushing the absolute maximum." He says, grinning at the other man. "When will the block two be ready for launch?" All of them are focused now, talking about major leaps forward in their capabilities. "January, most likely. As much as Finckley's confident, I'd like to test fire it at least once before we throw it into space." "Good. How about it Doctor?" Jane says, turning to the other man. "Will you have Orbiter-4 ready in two months?" "Of course. It's mostly already available hardware. The transmission of scientific data is handled by similar systems to those on Orbiter-3, with more capacity. Two weeks after the new year?" "It works for me. What about your other project Chief, the new booster? As much luck?" "Some. The, uh, 'Ajax' booster is in the initial phase of design. Mostly we're looking at machinery design and fuel choice. We're almost certainly going to use RP-1, a refined kerosene product with liquid oxygen, it's simply a case of getting proper performance out of it. Early tests are good though, we should be able to test a prototype of the rocket motor around February. Add upper stage design, prototyping and testing, and we'll hopefully be flying a test model around... May, but I'll say June to be safe." "I'm impressed Chief. I can't wait to see one out on the pad." "Me neither Ma'am. It'll be one hell of a sight." He smiles at his own imagined images and she fights down an amused chuckle. After a moment she takes a deep breath and turns to the Lieutenant. "Okay, MacMillan, last but not least. What have you got for us?" "Um... Ma'am, I think what I have, essentially, is more problems than solutions." She hands out a drawing of her own. "That's the concept for Relay-1. As imaginative as the Doctor's suggestion." he gives her an amused look and she blushes slightly. "Essentially it would be a tape recorder in space. The parabolic dish antenna would allow it to receive 'play' or 'record' instructions, and content. Then, the pole antenna's would be used to broadcast the pre-recorded message." "And it works?" "The theory does. We can control a tape recorder remotely in one of the Doctor's laboratories. We have two issues though, one of range, the other of power consumption. We're not completely sure that the signal will be strong enough to control the recorder at orbital distances, though that isn't the main worry. For constant broadcasting, the satellite will quickly drain the battery. Instead, we're going to have to use it sparingly, leaving it for periods of time in between each broadcast to recharge its batteries." "Ah..." The Major pauses for a moment, thinking hard. "I'm... going to approve Relay-1. It will serve as a fine demonstration of capabilities, even if they are more limited than any of us will let on. We'll schedule it for launch on the second RL-3 delivered, around May next year, okay?" The woman nods, visibly pleased. "There's more, and you might not like it. Your communication program won't progress to another launch unless power generation issues are dealt with. Low capability we can deal with, but I refuse to put unusable hardware into orbit unless it is demonstrating developing technologies, as relay-1 will. Is that understood?" She nods again, less happy than the last time. "Okay people, get to work. These are going to be exciting times for SREP, and I expect great things in the next twelve months." They exchange pleasantries on the way out, laughing and joking with each other, even the Lieutenant. They were confident about the future now. They had a focus, an objective, and by god if she didn't believe that they would manage it. Media: Orbiter-4 scientific payload design Finckley block 2 concept design Relay-1 communication satellite design

Chapter XII - Hollow Victory 1st November 1957 The RL-3 rocket- the last RL-3 rocket SREP had- was being winched slowly up onto the launch pad, payload already installed atop it. Orbiter-3 was an almost exact copy of Orbiter-2, prepared in a hurry so that SREP could meet their launch date and not fall even further behind the Germans. Under it was the Finckley booster, a barely tested design which the Chief showed only grudging respect for. That little gave Jane confidence though. The Chief was both showing that he could work to others plans and that he thought it would get the job done. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have let it fly on Orbiter-3. At least, she hoped that he was smart enough to object to anything that would compromise this mission. It was becoming something of a tradition for her, watching the rockets being erected. So far she'd seen all of them lifted into place and secured by their clamps and until the end of the HARP program, she'd seen all of them succeed. "She'll work this time Major." Dr Pickering came up to her, looking out over the launch site. "The Chief is sure of it, not that he'd admit to Finckley's work being better than his own." "I had a feeling Doctor. How's the leg?" The man, older than the rest of the department heads, had taken to walking with a cane. He looked even more the very model of a British gentleman, when he wasn't clad in his almost ever present lab coat. "We all have our little tests Major, this is one of mine. I suppose it's a reward for having Orbiter have gone so well at my end." He smiles at her "I really think tomorrow will go well." "I hope I'm as confident when we're down in mission control. This is going to make or break SREP." "It will lead to great things, I'm sure. Best head inside now, even Florida gets cold at night in Winter." She nods and returns his smile, walking slowly back towards the main buildings with him. 2nd November 1957 The sky was cloudy, but still clear enough for launch the next day. The tension mounted as the day went on, as people went about the final launch preparations as if their lives, rather than just their careers, depended on it. Finally midday came, the rocket casting barely a hint of a shadow thanks to the sun hanging almost overhead. Everyone either assembled at safe distances from the pad or descended into the control bunker. The day saw two firsts for SREP, the first gathering of public viewers to a launch, and the first time the media had been given access to Canaveral. A TV crew had set up to record the flight. Jane thought they were secretly hoping for a failure early in flight, which they could tear apart on the nightly news. Perhaps she was being too cynical, due to the way the media had lambasted her over her public congratulations to the German space program. It had been the right thing to do, to present a public image of friendship and amicability. Even so, it made her twitch when the papers implied that perhaps she wasn't working in the best interest of these United States of America. She let out a short sigh and tried to settle more comfortably into her chair at the back of the mission control room. Everyone who could fit was either down here or up on the observation deck, although admittedly that didn't say much considering how cramped this room was. Upstairs wasn't much better, but she understood that 30 or so staff were packed in there even so. Eventually the last of the pre-flight checks were finished and the final counts came. The Major gripped the arms of her chair, knuckles as white as the Chief's next too her. "3... 2... 1... Ignition" Sam called out, speaking loud for the microphone. Orbiter-3's launch procedures had been deemed important enough for radio broadcast, and it had put the staff slightly on edge. Responsibility was a dangerous thing, especially when a nation was listening, especially when it was a nation as quietly wounded by German success as the United States was. The rocket lifted from the pad, its skin almost sparkling in the sun. Engine roaring, it punched through the thick lower atmosphere, reaching mach 1 in under ninety seconds. Two minutes into the flight, the altimeter was reading 38 kilometres and the rocket began to pitch over on the horizontal part of its flight. "140 seconds, fairing deployment." Charlotte said, almost stuttering. They were all nervous as they passed into the second stage of the flight. High up on the edge of space, the payload was exposed and the last traces of atmosphere clutched at Orbiter-3. "First stage burn out in ten seconds... 2... 1... First stage out, Orbiter-3 velocity is 4600 metres per second.. TWR was 15.4, SPEC, hardware check." Charlie said to the room. The Major crossed her fingers. "Board is green, everything looks good." "Separation is clean, payload is away." Madeleine speaks, keeping them on track. "Booster ignition in 3... 2... 1... Firing." In space, the seven tiny motors on the liquid fuelled booster fire, thrusting Orbiter-3 forwards. "Orbiter-3 is on course. Trajectory is clean." The continue to chatter, passing information. A minute passes, and another. Seven minutes into the flight, the rocked was travelling at over seven kilometres a second. Then, finally, cleanly, it happens. "T+454 seconds, booster fuel expended, repeat, booster burn out confirmed." Madeleine says and sags into her seat, her role complete. "We're about to lose contact people, give me telemetry!" Charlie almost shouts. "Hardware is green, power-on is good. Orbiter-3 is active." Charlotte says as Madeleine leans forward to check her dials. "Altitude, 209 kilometres above sea level. Velocity is eight-zero-one-zero metres per second." "Thank you Flight, but what exactly does that mean?" "It means the damn thing is in orbit Control." Madeleine shouts back. "Apoapsis is 2975 kilometers, periapsis is... 204.3 kilometres. Orbiter-3 is out of atmosphere and in orbit." The room goes wild, people cheering and hugging. The Doctor forgets his english proprietry and hugs her. "We did it! We bloody did it!" He shouts in her ear, his cane lying discarded on the floor. And they had. Orbiter-3 was in space and there it would remain for years to come. A shining beacon for those that would follow. Media: Orbiter-3 payload with Finckley booster Artists impression of Orbiter-3 in orbit, deployed and transmitting

Chapter XI - The Game is Changing 8th September 1957 "Hey Arthur, come in." The Major leans back in her chair and tosses her pen onto the table. "Everything okay?" He takes a seat and drops a folded newspaper face up on her desk. "Have you seen this yet?" She shakes her head and scans the front page. Her eyes widen as she reads the headline. "Germany Blasts Satellite Into Space..." She looks up at him "You have got to be kidding me." "It seems not Major. We have been beaten into orbit." "But Germany? I didn't expect that." "Why? They had long range rockets at the end of the last war, I'm only surprised that we were so close to beating them" She nods, eyes flicking across the page, looking for details. "Unfold it, they have pictures." Arthur says. "Orbiter-3 has to succeed, you know that? The President isn't going to give us any slack, especially after this." "I believe you have managed to make that clear, yes. I went to see Chief Marshall yesterday. He is working feverishly." "I'm afraid he needs too. With two failures in a row under our belts..." "I understand Major, but if we lose him, if he 'burns out'-" "There are other engineers Arthur. He's an exceedingly good one, sure, but nobody on this program is irreplaceable." "Even you Major?" She gives him a hard look, dropping the paper back onto the desk. "I believe the President made sure I understood that, yes." She says, picking up her pen. "I have work, Arthur. Thank you for bringing this to my attention." He gets up and leaves, mouth a thin line as he walks back to his own office. As the news broke over the nation, there was something of a stunned silence from all quarters. Only the upper levels of the intelligence world had seen it coming, and even they were somewhat surprised at the speed with which the German's managed to complete and fly an orbital rocket. Opinion pieces began to appear within a few days, accusing the US government and SREP itself of incompetence. The failures of Orbiter-1 and -2 hit the front page again, but pitched this time as personal failings of the staff at SREP. Soon after, the front gates of the SREP centre at Canaveral was thronged with reporters, waiting to harangue anyone leaving for an interview. A few days later after several incidents between the media and SREP employee's, Major Wolcott had decided to make an official statement for the first time. 18th September 1957 Jane stepped up behind the podium, looking out over the sea of reporters faces. The occasional flash popped, making her blink. She'd seen several press briefings though her years of service but never had she seen them so silent as they were now. She hoped it was out of respect. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press." She began, "First allow me to congratulate our German friends for their success in placing the first artificial satellite into orbit around the earth. They have achieved a great thing, something we hope to achieve for ourselves in the coming months." She pauses, giving them a brief smile, before continuing more firmly "But let me reassure you that just because the German Democratic Republic was first, does not mean that the United States isn't going to lead humanity into the future and into space. In six weeks, Orbiter-3 will launch from this facility, and it will achieve all of its stated goals. In just a month and a half, people around the world will be able to tune their radio's into the sound of not just the German satellite passing overhead, but an American one as well. Thank you." She says, feeling the rush of excitement at her own words. She felt confident that they would manage it, even in the face of a hundred doubting journalists. Media: Image of German rocket lifting off Artists Impression of the German Weltraumsonde artificial satellite in orbit.

Chapter X - Fading Hopes 12th August 1957 "If you've got any doubts Chief, now's the time." The Major says, leaning over to talk to him as the mission control staff go through their pre-flight check-lists. "It's gonna work." He replies, his eyes fixed on the relayed camera footage of Orbiter-2 sitting on its launch pad. She bites her lip, hoping he's right. They had spent the two weeks since her return from Washington in near-desperate preparation for this launch. The engineers had barely left their hangar and workshops other than to wince at the sun as they trekked between the building and their cars so they could go home and sleep. The chief hadn't even done that, falling asleep on the couch in his office most nights. She thought it was an admirable display of commitment to the program, even if he had occasionally looked totally dishevelled. Dr. Pickering stepped into the room, closing the door as quietly as he could. He took a seat on Jane's other side, smiling to her before looking around the small mission control room. The Doctor's staff had worked just as hard as the Chief's, but on the payload rather than the hardware. Orbiter-1 was a unique design and not meant to be copied. Instead it's construction had informed the design of Orbiter-2 which was now balanced atop the rocket out on the pad. A cylinder topped by a nose cone, it was equipped with a second repeater antennae to improve the 'view' a receiver would have of it. It was slightly lighter than Orbiter-1 at 21 kilograms as well. Neither Arthur nor Harriet MacMillan had decided to join them in the Mission Control room. The Lieutenant had insisted she had complete faith in her appointed specialist who was even now running through manoeuvre timings in readiness for the launch, while Arthur simply enjoyed watching the rockets ascending with his own eyes. She smiled at the funny little man who had become such an important part of her ability to keep SREP functioning. She shook her head to clear it, listening to the final stages of the mission control staff preparing for the launch. "We are at T-3 minutes and counting, launch check lists complete." Sam Howarths, mission commander said to the room at large. "Confirmed Control" Charlie responded, using the name given to Sam's position by the Flight Planners. They'd all been assigned short hand position titles for ease of identification during communications. The Major suspected some of it was simply Lieutenant MacMillan's urge to organise, but she had no reason to oppose the changes. She supposed that as the mission command staff grew, organisational tricks like that would become more important. "Flight, Spec, confirm check-lists complete?" "Affirmative Control, Flight check-lists complete." The new face in the control room, Madeleine Smith, said quietly. "Spec confirms check-list complete, payload is ready." Charlotte finishes the first confirmation that the launch is ready to proceed. The Major watches as the clock counts slowly towards zero. "Switching on mikes. The Public's listening people, stay sharp." Charlie says, flicking a switch and allowing everyone upstairs to listen in the mission control. "Okay, clock is T-60, Range you have the board." "I have the board Control... T-45 seconds. Flight?" "Flight is Go for launch." Smith says, barely audible in the quiet room. "Call it louder Maddie. I need to hear you. Spec, Go?" "Spec is Go, Payload shows green." Charlotte calls out, subconsciously spinning a pen. "Control?" "Orbiter-2 has a green light for launch." "Calling T-30 seconds..." The last few seconds count down, all in the room hold their collective breaths. "T-5." "Orbiter-2 is go." The final call, made by Charlie, gives Sam permission to launch the rocket. "Confirmed, 3, 2... 1... Ignition." Sam stabs a button on his desk and the external film shows the now familiar glare of a rocket exhaust. Jane lets out a long breath, and both the Chief and the Doctor seem to relax visibly. The seconds passed as various calls went around the control room. A minute into its flight, it was only 3 kilometres up. Another minute passed and it had achieved 30 kilometres and was still accelerating. Another thirty seconds and it began to turn onto its side, accelerating the tiny satellite that sat atop the rocket up to orbital velocity. Three and a half minutes into a near perfect flight, the first stage ran out of fuel and stopped firing. Explosive bolts fired, detaching the upper stage booster and allowing it to drift away from the bigger rocket for a few seconds before it was ignited. "We fitted tiny control thrusters around the Pitcher." The Chief said, almost making her jump. "They should hold it on course without losing a whole lot of-" "Booster ignition in 2... 1... Firing." Charlie pushed the button lighting the little SRB. He pauses, watching his dials. "Pitcher is off trajectory. Beginning to rotate." "Hold that Control. Check Telemetry." Madeline says more firmly than before. Charlie looks again. "Roger that. Pitcher appears to be correcting... Orbiter-2 is on course and accelerating" "Looks like you managed it John." The Major said, leaning back in her chair. The man gives her a quick grin before looking back at the screens, now displaying flight telemetry. They had been lucky, she thought, to have managed to fix the problem so easily. She wondered how long their luck would hold. As it turned out, their luck held approximately one minute and 16 seconds longer. "Flight, check telemetry." Charlie says, his calm tone belied by the white knuckles gripping the edge of his desk. "I'm showing a flat spin Control." Madeleine says after a pregnant pause. "Agreed. Orbiter-2 is out of control." Charlie sags into his chair, while Charlotte sighs loudly. They sit and watch for 30 more seconds until the SRB burns itself out. "Orbiter-2 payload is spinning and uncontrolled. Final Telemetry please?" Charlie says, finishing his job as a professional would. "Velocity is 6300m/s. Final apoapsis, 175km above sea level." "Thank you Flight. For the log, Orbiter-2 is spinning and out of control. Confirmed objective failure." He shakes his head, switching off a couple of his screens. "Lets do final procedures people." As the mission control staff take down the last minutes of the Orbiter-2 mission, the tiny spacecraft plunges back into the atmosphere. Ten minutes and fifty seconds after the start of the mission, it ends, debris splashing down in the Atlantic ocean. Twenty minutes after the end of Orbiter-2's brief flight, the department heads are arranged around the same meeting room table. "Well. Here we are again." The doctor says, somewhat more quietly than his usual volume. "Yeah, here we are. We've messed up again." "Another learning experience, Chief Marshall. Don't dismiss it as just another failure. I don't doubt we will have several in our future, and all of them will have something to teach us." The Chief gives Roth a sideways glance, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, sure... Listen, Major, this is my screw-up. If you want me to step back, even say something to the press-" "Chief, no." She cuts him off quickly. "If we start dropping people now, let alone department heads, the public is going to have less faith in us than ever before, and I know we need you Chief. You're a damn good engineer." "Who can't build a working booster." "Who tried to fix his mistakes. You want to do what's right by the program? Get Finckley out of that back office I've seen him camping out in. Give him a team and build his booster. He's been working on it for a couple of months right?" The man nods despondently. "Do you know how long he think's he'll need?" The Chief shrugs. "His last report said hopefully he'll have a fully working prototype for testing in the next month. I figure maybe another 6 weeks after that?" "End of October?" "Call it the start of November. Another weeks testing wont hurt it at all." Good. Right, that's the plan people. Lieutenant, talk to Engineering, edit your plan if you have too. Doctor, you as well. If payload limits have changed, I'd rather you didn't build an overly heavy satellite and delay the launch even more." She smiles to soften her blunt speech. "Get to it then." They stand, and file out one after the other, leaving her alone in the meeting room. Media:​ Orbiter-2 diagram with launch fairings

Chapter IX - Rapid Redesign 15th June 1957 The meeting room is silent, the senior program staff all staring at the desk in front of them, lost in their own thoughts. An hour had passed since Orbiter-1 made its fateful plunge back into the atmosphere, ruining SREP's hopes of putting anything into space for several months at least. Every so often, a member of one the various teams would come in with sheets of paper, handing them out to their respective heads of department. "I think it is time we stop feeling sorry for ourselves." Arthur broke the silence, looking around the table. "We made a mistake, something went wrong. We lost our first satellite. But now is the time to be making these mistakes, before the price of failure becomes so great that it is not an option." "But what in gods name did go wrong?" Dr Pickering said "Payload pre-deployment went perfectly as well as we can tell." "Then what caused the spin-out. Trace atmospherics?" "No, the booster was fired 200 kilometres above the surface, far too high for the atmosphere to have such a significant impact." MacMillan breaks in. "What about the heading issue, the mission was off course by..." The Major says, flicking through the paperwork in front of her. "over 30 degrees. It manoeuvred back to 94 by 0 before Chief Marshall's booster was ignited." "Could the telemetry have been wrong?" "It's possible. If the payload was off course when the booster fired it might have attempted to manoeuvre back onto the correct heading." "But it would have corrected itself to stop the spin." The Chief said, cutting her off. "The booster had full gimbal control, it wouldn't have caused a spin like that without bad instructions." "Are you saying my team caused this?" "I didn't write the flight plan Lieutenant." The chief crosses his arms defensively. "How dare you! Our work-" They fall silent as the Major slams her hand flat on the table. "Enough, both of you. We're here to find the fault, not make accusations about shoddy work. No one person is at fault, this is a program failure and we've all messed up." She pauses, waiting for one of them to try again. Instead everyone at the table is looking at her with wide eyes. "Okay, Harriet, could this have been an issue with the flight plan?" "Yes, possibly." She says curtly. "Chief, possible hardware failure?" The man runs a hand through his short hair and sighs. "I suppose... an ignition problem, maybe air in the grain or an uneven burn could have made it impossible for the booster to correct its spin." "Thank you, both of you. Chief, get your team working on the next booster, make sure it's perfect. Lieutenant have your team go over the plan step by step. Find out why it went off course. Dr. Pickering, as many people as you can spare, help them on that. We might have made some bad assumptions about high altitude manoeuvres." The three of them nod. "We have Orbiter-2 scheduled for the end of July. Is that going to suffer?" They look at each other, frowning. "If we can push it back two weeks to the middle of the next month, we'll be better off for it." the Chief says, and the others murmur their assent. "Good. Better to take it slowly and be sure for the next one. Get to work people. Arthur, stay." Pickering, the Chief and the Lieutenant file out, the doctor and the officer already in rapid conversation about what needed to be done. Once the door was closed the Major slumped into her chair. "Jesus, Arthur. The last thing we need is to have them at each others throats." "You did well, Major, if I may say so." "Thanks." She lets out a quiet sigh "What am I going to tell the President?" "Tell him the truth. We made a mistake and we are going to fix it." "I guess that's all I can do. Thanks Arthur. I'll see you later." She leaves the meeting room, heading for her office 25th July 1957 "Welcome back Major." the Chief says, meeting her in the corridor on the way to their first meeting in weeks. She had been in DC for the past few days, flying back in late that night on an Army transport. He'd been locked away in the engineering department before that. "Hey Chief. I really hope you've got something for me." "The President ain't happy huh?" "You could say that. After you." she holds the door to the meeting room for him, following behind him. The room is already full, seats taken not just by department heads, but members of their staffs as well. The Chief glares at one of his engineers until the man stands, giving his seat up. "Good morning, all of you. Doctor, Lieutenant, good to see you again." "Major. I trust you're well?" The doctor is polite as ever. She nods and shuffles her files nervously before speaking again. "I trust you all know I met with the President a few days ago. He's generally supportive of our long term aims. The Orbiter program, the Chief's idea for satellite photography of the surface for map making, and the assistant-directors man in space idea." She pauses, gathering her thoughts. "He is not, however, supportive of failure. He expects major progress from a program that is set to cost the nation a considerable amount of money." "What the hell does that mean?" The Chief blurts out angrily. "It means we have two launches. If Orbiter-2 and 3 both fail, SREP isn't getting any more hardware, or any more funding." "That's insane! Is he an idiot?" "I'd be careful who you call an idiot Mr. Marshall. You're on the edge of treason." Lieutenant MacMillan says, jumping to her feet and interrupting the Chief. "Treason is cancelling SREP before it's found its feet." The pair glare at each other, the Chief visibly seething, the Lieutenant looking slightly dishevelled and just as furious. In the quiet that follows their outburst, the Major speaks again. "Do I have to build a wall between you? Or can you act with some sense of decorum for the rest of the meeting." The pair deflate, a little, and turn back to her. "Thank you. Now, what this... ultimatum means is that we absolutely have to perform on our next two launches. Have we got the problems with the booster ironed out? What about the flight plan?" "Yes Ma'am, we think we've found a work around." The Lieutenant said, eyes on the table in front of her. "We've reset the fuel block in the next booster as well. Made sure there's no issues there." The chief nodded almost to himself as he said it. "Good. Now, you seem to have all gathered yourself entourages. Is there a reason?" There's a general shaking of heads. "When I call a meeting for department heads in future, it'll be just the department heads, clear?" Nods from all around. "Good. Go get on with your days people. Two weeks until launch day." "Chief, I-" One of his team says, loud enough for everyone to hear. The Major pauses. "Finckley, stow it." "But chief-" "Is there something else to add Chief?" Jane says, leaning on the back of her chair. "Steven Finckley Major, one of my team. He has an... idea." He frowns at the younger man. "Well? Out with it Mr Finckley." The young man smiles. "The, uh, Pitcher. Ma'am. It' a fine design, but I think it has stability issues. It, uh, would be possible to solve them but the solution would increase the mass of the booster without enhancing its delta v. Essentially, Ma'am, in order to be useful we can't fix it." The Chief is glaring at him as he speaks, making him stumble over his words. "I, uh... I think we can put together a liquid fuelled design with multiple small engines with better control of its heading." "Chief? Is he right?" "Right? Major, the Pitcher is fine, it'll work." "But this plan could work as well, yes?" "I... Steven's math is good. The design concept is good." "File it as a back-up. If you can spare him, let him work on that while you ready Orbiter-2 for launch." She looks at the grim expression on the Chief's face. "Lighten up chief. I'm not replacing you." "No, Major. I know." "Okay, go get to work." She says, and sweeps out of the room.

Chapter VIII - Disaster Strikes 12th June 1957 The days leading up to the first of the Orbiter missions saw Cape Canaveral turn into a hive of activity. Rapid growth in the six months since the Major had arrived had seen the base staff go from a few tens to several hundred people. It was really showing now as secretaries, engineers and researchers hurried around. The sound of construction was now near constant, new housing being one of the main concerns. The local town was growing as well, new businesses springing up to cope with the influx of well paid under-30's that SREP was bringing to the area. It was a new gold rush, and Canaveral was a boom town. She reflected on the growth as she made the short walk from the Administration building to the CERC (Combined Engineering & Research Centre), passing the never quiet assembly hanger as she went. The inside was cool as ever, even more of a relief than it had been back when she arrived. Now it was the middle of summer and the sun was baking the earth solid. She walked through the corridor, every room now lit and filled with working researchers. She knew most of them were working on experimental data from the HARP project, or preparing for the Orbiter program. She came to the door to the room which she's visited with Pickering before, the second of the two larger laboratory spaces. She went in, nodding to one of the junior researchers who hurried out with a stack of printouts. Inside Dr. Pickering, Baker and several others were fussing over a large metal box. An antennae extended from the upper surface, and two sides each had a silvery-blue solar cell attached too it. As the door clunked shut behind her, the doctor turned around and waved her over. "Major, welcome. What do you make of Orbiter-1?" "It's very... small. Isn't it?" The box was only a little more than half a metre across and perhaps a metre tall with the undeployed antenna pointing into the sky. "Small it may be, but it will be heard around the world." He taps the box, smiling to himself. "We'll be moving it over to the engineering side later today, for mating to the rocket." "Just like this? Doctor, you surprise me." Jane said, nudging him with her elbow. "after HARP I thought we were going to see every payload carry forty experiments." He laughs. "Luckily Major I managed to restrain myself with this one. I thought the lighter the better, especially with Mr. Marshall flying it on his home made rockets." "You saw the same tests I did doctor-" "Yes, and they were very successful. I'm just poking fun." "Good. I'll let you get on." she says, making for the door. "Good afternoon Major." The doctor says, now turning away from the satellite his team built. 13th June 1957 Jane watched as the first of the payload fairings was installed on the Orbiter rocket. The sixteen meter long rocket took up barely a quarter of the assembly hanger and yet it looked huge to her. The Pitcher SRB was already attached, held up by the gantries on the mover truck, with fairings already wrapped carefully around its engine to protect it from atmospheric drag as it ascended. The hanger was crawling with engineers, many of them walking around the rocket, testing and retesting it. A group of from the research department were still doing final preparations on the satellite even as the Chief's work crews assembled the fairings around it. The only group not present was Flight Planning, presumably still tucked away in their offices making final checks of their command guidance instructions which would guide the rocket into orbit. She walked over to the Chief as he backed away from the rocket, watching his team work. "Hey Chief. Looking forward to it?" "Like nothing else Ma'am. You still banning us from the control room?" "Chief, until I can put you and the doctor in a glass box, no-one but the mission staff are going in that room. Not even me, I'll be up in observation with the rest of you." He looks at her with surprise. "Giving up your front row seat?" "I figured it was only fair." "The Doc would never leave you alone otherwise I guess." He smiles to himself, folding his arms. "We're really going to do it, aren't we. Put that thing in space I mean." "We certainly are. I'll see you later Chief. I've got paperwork to fill out." he waves at her as she walks away, heading back to her office. 14th June 1957 Major Wolcott stood at the edge of the launch field, watching Orbiter-1 being winched upright from the bed of the mover truck. Cables strung from the two umbilical support towers were slowly being drawn in, dragging the ton and a half of rocket to launch position. In the morning, twelve tons of fuel would be pumped into its waiting tanks just before launch. "Director. Someone said they'd seen you out here." She jumped a little, jerked out of her thoughts by the voice. "I hadn't meant to sneak up on you." She turns, smiling at her assistant director. "Arthur. Sorry, I was just watching..." She trails off, turning back to the view. "I understand. I am finding it hard to stay away myself." "I'm still finding it difficult to believe what we're going to do." He nods in agreement. "Have you given any more thought to what I suggested?" She looks at him for a moment before her eyes widen in realisation. "How couldn't I? To send a pilot...I started thinking of how much we have to learn before we can do it as well." She said with a sigh. He shrugs. "As I said, we launch more rockets, we learn what we have to. I do not see why we shouldn't get the funding for it when that is essentially our reason for existing... When do you next see the President?" "Next month. A private meeting, six monthly review reporting directly to him. I'll be in Washington for a week before Orbiter-2... I really hope we have something to show him by then." "You will have something to show him even if he asked for you tomorrow." He says, smiling at her. "Come now Director, don't they teach you to have faith in your men in your Army? Have faith in them, and they will deliver you the world." "You're right, of course." She lets out a wry laugh. "I must be getting tired. See you tomorrow?" "Nice and early, Director. Good evening." 15th June 1957 She looked out at the rocket sitting on its launch pad, now devoid of human life. A stark difference to yesterday when it had looked like some giant had kicked a concrete and steel ants nest. Instead there was just the rocket supported by its twin towers, smoke and condensation drifting along its flanks. She stepped back into the room for a minute, letting her binoculars hang around her neck. She poured a cup of coffee from the jug, a jug that from the small taste she took must have been there since HARP-1 was launched. Looking around she smiled at the gathering. Most of the site staff was either watching here or from sites further to the north, out of the blast zone. She saw the Corporal, standing with Arthur's secretary. The Chief and the Doctor, discussing something in hushed tones in one corner, both of them glancing out at the pad when they thought the other wasn't looking. Other members of the various teams stood around the observation level. "Is it working Charlie?" Lieutenant Howarth's voice interrupts them all, broadcast from down in Mission Control, a level below them. "Yeah? Good... Orbiter-1, Mission is green, set clocks to T-60 seconds and counting. Range officer, you have the board." "Roger that. T-45 and counting. Flight?" "Flight is a go Lieutenant." The voice of Lieutenant MacMillan, standing in for Flight Planning for the first Orbiter mission. "Payload?" "Payload is green, ready for launch." "Thanks Lottie." There's a strangled noise, presumably from the young scientist, and it's easy to tell that Charlie Johnson is fighting a laugh as he continues. "Telemetry is go. Control, are we go for launch?" "Orbiter-1 has a go. Call it." "Time is T-30 seconds. Lock controls at ready." There's a pause in the chatter. Ten seconds pass, and another ten in near silence. Everyone on the observation deck is staring out at the rocket, barely blinking. "T-5, last call." "Mission is go." "Mission is go in 3... 2... 1... ignition." Out on the pad there is a glare of light as the umbilicals swing away from the rocket. The rocket lifts ever so slowly from the pad, accelerating into the sky. "Orbiter-1 is off the pad and away. Telemetry looks good." "Beginning turn at T+35 seconds." "Thank you flight." Now everyone is craning over, trying to follow the rocket up as it ascended rapidly. "Range is clear. Sam, the board is yours." "Affirmative, I have the board. Mission is proceeding. Flight?" "Manoeuvre in 8 seconds... 2... 1... Turning... Turn complete." "Ascent profile is... Flight, check heading." A lengthy pause follows, causing the Major to turn and look up at the speaker. "Turn complete, rocket no longer manoeuvring. Heading is... off-course, heading is now 124 degrees." "Are we still making orbit?.. Flight!" "Hold on." The Major leaves races for the stairs, taking them two at a time. She can hear footsteps behind her, following her into mission control as she bursts through the door. Charlie has a map spread across his desk, tracing paths as fast as he can lay his ruler, while Lieutenant Macmillan makes hurried calculations. She throws her pen down a moment later. "We are go for orbit control. Flight is still green." "Jesus Harriet, quicker next time. Mission is T+68 seconds, proceeding." The three senior personnel at the back of the room exchange worried looks as the mission control staff drop back into their usual relaxed demeanour. "Roll manoeuvre in 30 seconds." She says as her only answer, throwing the air force officer a dirty look. The thirty seconds drag by, Wolcott fighting to look at ease even as she bites her lip. "Beginning roll and turn." The Major pictures the slow roll over of the rocket, pushing it into the right profile for orbital insertion. Everyone's breathing has settled down by now, even the somewhat older Dr. Pickering's. "Initiating horizontal burn phase. Heading is 94 by 0." "Confirming 94 by 0. Fairing ejection in 25 seconds." The mission clock reads just two minutes and twenty five seconds. Jane had known how quickly things moved when problems occurred, but she'd never felt such gut-clenching terror at the possibility of one of her missions going wrong. Flying RB-1's, a failure simply meant another launch. This was much more serious, and failure was much more costly. "Ejecting fairings." Sam pushed a button, hopefully exposing Orbiter-1 to space for the first time. "Antenna extended, confirming hardware power-on." "Payload status?" "Payload is green." "Confirmed. First stage cut-off in 30 seconds." Another of those quiet pauses as the team waits for the next stage of their operation. "Prep for first stage separation. Booster is green." "Payload is go" "Flight is go." "Mission is go. Engine cut-off in 3... 2... 1... Engine cut off and separating. Five seconds to second stage ignition... 2... 1... Ignition." A second button press sets off the Pitcher SRB as it drifts away from the LR-3 rocket, 3 minutes and 35 seconds after launch. "Whoa... Flight, confirm heading." "Hea- No confirm Control, my telemetry is bad." "Range?" "Mine too, Control." "It can't be... Flight, lets assume telemetry is good, would you agree the craft is spinning?" She pauses and stares at her console for a moment. "Confirm control, craft appears to be spinning." "I had a feeling..." He sighs heavily. "For the log, Orbiter-1 is spinning while attached to Pitcher SRB and cannot be controlled. Cause is unknown. Range Officer, confirm objective failure." "Confirmed. She's not going into orbit today." The Major slumps into a seat at the back of the room, her hat in her hands. Orbiter-1 was a failure. She sat, head hung as she listened to the control room track the product of the missions failure. Ten minutes after the launch, Orbiter-1 burnt up as it plunged back into the atmosphere at over five kilometres per second. Media: Orbiter-1 satellite Orbiter-1 rocket awaiting launch

Chapter VII - End of the Beginning 5th May 1957 The Major watched the last HARP launch from the observation deck of the control bunker. The RB-1, the rocket she'd cut her teeth on in the Army, sped into the air as the daylight began to fade. It glowed orange as it went high and higher, lit by the sun sinking below the horizon below the observers. Eventually it disappeared from sight and the Major turned and began the short walk down into the Mission Control room. She felt a strange sense of loss as she made the walk. The RB-1 had been the first rocket she'd been involved in the flying of. Once it became a sounding rocket, she'd been one of the key officers involved in the project. Now she'd just seen possibly the last launch of an RB-1 she'd ever see. Certainly the last that SERP would fly for the time being. Their stocks were expended and they had much bigger plans than the dinky little rocket. Even so, it was sad to see it go. She let out a long, calming breath and opened the door into the control room. "HARP-3 approaching 235 kilometres altitude." "Telemetry is good, still receiving good data." The Major took a seat at the back of the room, alongside Lieutenant MacMillan and three of her staff. She leans over as the flight continues to whisper to the other officer. "Getting a taste of the action Lieutenant?" "Observing Ma'am. My staff needed to see how the controllers functioned in order to write flight plans that would fit with their methods." "Good, good. Will your staff be ready for next month?" "Yes Ma'am. We have everything we need from your chief engineer." They both fall silent as the final stages of the flight come to a close. The rocket again disintegrates as it comes in over the water, the last pieces splashing down at over a kilometre every second. As the mission controllers close down their systems, the Lieutenant stands, saluting Major Wolcott. "Ma'am. If I may?" She looks up, returning the salute. "Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. Carry on Lieutenant." She watches the four flight planners leave the control room, shaking her head. She'd been working with civilians for all of four months, had she already lost so much of the military stiffness? Or maybe Lieutenant MacMillan was just a prime example of uniformed rigidity. The Major smiled to herself and relaxed back into her chair to watch the final flight logs being made.

Chapter VI - Fire on the Pad 17th April 1957 Jane watched the engineers make final preparations for the test of their new SRB upper stage. The small cylinder was suspended fifteen feet above the ground in a set of girders with a blast shield suspended behind it. The structure pointed the rocket out over the ocean, with explosive bolts allowing a release in case of a critical failure in the test equipment. In that case, the bolts would fire and the rocket would, hopefully, fly out into the bay to splash down in the water. She trusted the chief and his work crews enough to assume that wouldn't be necessary. If it was, she'd be having words with the man. The last of the engineers hurried off the pad and jumped into a nearby jeep, racing away from the pad. A few minutes later, a short siren sounded, a signal the chief had decided on to signal a pad test. He thought there should be something to differentiate it from a launch, and the Major had agreed. Thirty seconds later, the booster ignited, letting out a throaty roar. A streak of smoke shot from the engine, followed by a tongue of flame. Fifty seconds later, the roar died and the smoke slowly cleared. The now slightly grubby booster was still intact on the pad, its noise replaced by the cheering base staff. "The test went well then Chief?" The Major says, coming up behind the man as he returns to the hanger after helping to clear the pad. "As well as we could hope for. Didn't blow up the pad at least." He grins, one of the first time she's seen the man do anything but look thoughtful or glower. "Was it what you expected though? It'll work for the Orbiter program?" "I said it would, didn't I? Pitcher performed perfectly. It'll do the same on the day." "Okay. Are you testing again this week?" "We'll be firing the SRB twice more, and the RL-3's motor at the end of the week." Both are silent as the hanger door closes with a loud clang, the metal reverberating. "The first of Flight Planning are moving in this afternoon." The major said absent-mindedly. "Canaveral admin is getting busy at last." "We'll have a plan for Orbiter then?" She nods. "Soon enough. I'll see you later Chief. I'd best go and make ready for them." April saw the arrival of not just the first, but of the whole of the Flight Planning Offices' staff. Led by one Lieutenant (Navy) Harriet MacMillan, the almost entirely female department were tasked with manually planning the manoeuvres for each and every launch. With HARP and its unguided launches it hadn't been an issue to do more than point them in the right direction and let fly. With the Orbiter program came the need for thoroughly planned precise changes in flight needed to bring the payload safely into orbit, and as such the planning for the program came with it the new part of the staff. Major Wolcott met the woman leading the team late in the afternoon the day she arrived. "Major Wolcott" The navy officer saluted "We weren't expecting you in today." The office that had been assigned to the group was a mess of half unpacked equipment. "Don't worry Lieutenant." Jane returns the salute before smiling. "You'll find quite soon that we're a little more relaxed around here than most service stations." The other woman frowns. "Yes, well... I hope you'll find Flight Planning to be a tightly run establishment." "I'm sure I'll be very satisfied Lieutenant. Did you get the files on the Orbiter program, they should have been on your desk." "I have them" she said, putting her hand on a stack of papers. "If you have any questions-" "I'll be sure to come and see you. If there's nothing else Ma'am?" The junior officer gestures to the door, leaving the Major feeling a little like she's been dismissed. She shakes it off as she walks back to her own office. Media: Image taken by the blast shield camera of the test of the Pitcher SRB

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Chapter V - To the Edge 31st March 1957 Jane looked up from her paperwork as the sunlight faded and rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day, something she expected would happen every time they had a launch scheduled the day after. Light was leaking from the assembly warehouse where the engineering team was still hard at work. Final preparations for the launch that was due to go ahead in- she checked her watch and her eyes widened- just fourteen hours. She needed to get home and get some sleep if she was going to be ready for the next day's excitement. She stood and stretched before walking out into the anteroom where the corporal was doing their very best to look busy despite the late hour. "I thought you'd have come in asking to leave by now." The Major says off-hand, opening a filing drawer. "I, uh... I've been waiting for Kate to come by Ma'am. The assistant-directors secretary." The corporal fights down a blush, the major biting her lip to cover a smile. "Been making friends on Army time Corporal?" She says after a pause. "I guess you could say that Ma'am." The soldier says, dropping into well practised formality despite their years together. "Go on, you're dismissed. I'll finish up here, you go drop by her office instead." The corporal breaks into a broad smile and quickly shrugs on their jacket. They salute and hurry out of the office, leaving the Major behind. 1st April 1957 "Morning Major." "Good morning Chief. Dr Pickering." she turns as the two men step into the mission control room. "Major Wolcott." The Englishman smiled at her. "I thought you would both be up on the observation deck, not skulking down here with me." she said, smiling coyly at the two men. "Ah, you'd think. Charlotte asked me to come down to observe for this launch though. Our first launch into space, a great day, no?" "Certainly." She's quiet for a moment, listening to the chatter between the three people seated at the flight controls. "Did Dr Pickering drag you into coming down here as well Chief?" "Not the doc's doing. I've got ulterior motives." He lets out a short laugh. "We've put together a test model of the pitcher- the solid rocket booster for the orbiter mission. Engineering's going to need the pad for testing for a few weeks." "Fine by me Chief. How long for the last HARP launch Doctor." "Three weeks perhaps? The start of May might be best, if the Chief needs the pad." "Start of May it is. Now quiet, they're doing final checks." The test went perfectly. HARP-2 shot into the air, accelerating rapidly. Four and a half minutes later, it reached 250 kilometres above the earth's surface and began to fall again. It fell fast, reaching 1700m/s before it burnt away to nothing ten kilometres above the Atlantic Ocean. The telemetry came strong through the entire flight. At one point Dr Pickering leaped out of his chair and raced over to Charlotte's desk in order to read the dials for himself, pushing the young researcher out of the way. It was at that point that the Major decided that only mission control staff were going to be allowed in during a launch. And her, of course. One of the pleasures of being in charge was making the rules. She left the room with a spring in her step once the mission was declared complete. SREP had been to space. Soon they'd be going there a whole lot more. 3rd April 1957 "Hey Chief!" The major shouted over the noise of the assembly warehouse. The big man looked up from his workbench and walked over. "Major. Got news for me?" "Excellent news Chief. We're taking delivery of the first RL-3 in ten days. Plus, the boys up at Redstone found a spare LR-105 motor lying around. Think you can rig up a test firing for that as well?" The Chief's eyes widen in surprise. "You're going to have to tell me how you pulled that one off at some point." He pauses and looks around. "We can probably put something together a week after the Pitcher test. Can we push HARP-3 back by a week?." She nods. "I don't see any reason not too. You get to break it too Pickering though." They both laugh, barely audible over the work going on. "Come here, got something to show you." He leads her over to one side of the room where a long cylinder rests. It's only when they get close that she notices the engine bell at one end. "This is the Pitcher." It's a white cylinder, two and a half metres long and half a metres across. "This will put a satellite into orbit?" "Not a big one. But it's certainly enough to get something up there." "Good work Chief. Really good work." She leaves the hanger a few minutes later, smiling again. The future was looking awfully bright for SREP. Media: Picture taken at the launch of HARP-2

Chapter IV - Bigger is better 11th March 1957 A quiet knock on the door makes Major Wolcott look up from yet another batch of endless paperwork. A moment later the bestubbled face of her chief engineer pokes around the door, mouth a thin line. "Hey Chief. Come in, take a seat." She says, putting her pen down and stretching her neck. He steps lightly into the room, evading a pile of folders that, to any outside observer, could have been placed specifically to block visitors from reaching her desk. The Major nods to the thin file he's holding "You've got a plan for me?" "Better than that. If I can get what's in this, I've got your first orbital launcher on the edge of ready to fly." His eyes twinkle just a little as he speaks. He opens the file and hands her a basic blueprint of a rocket design. "Is that-" "An RL-3 as the first stage. Friend of mine up at Redstone says they're rolling the first production models off the line in the next couple of months." "Chief, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to know about those." The Major says, biting her lip. He shrugs. "When you've been in the industry as long as I have, you make friends, and friends share." He looks her in the eye. "Is there going to be a problem with me knowing about it?" "Well considering it's still a pretty secure army research project..." "Major, I know you're army and that's where you got your start. But even if you're still in uniform, Canaveral's your home now and SREP is your business. If I know something, I'll use it to make sure SREP succeeds. Wouldn't you?" She's silent for minute before nodding. "Damn, chief. You've got a way with words." He gives her a rare smile. "Okay, so, the RL-3" "I'm serious about that. It would make a perfect first stage. It's been tested, it's about to be in production, and it's powerful." "Okay. And this payload?" "A second stage booster. The rocket gets the payload into space, the booster puts it into an actual orbit. If my guys are right on their math, it should be able to put 100 kilograms into orbit." He hands her another couple of pages with various bits of information scattered across them. Expected vacuum delta-v of nearly 10km/s. Launch weight just over 23 tons. "It all looks good chief. Want me to talk to Redstone? I can try and pull a couple of rockets from them." "Thanks Major. I'll get back to work, okay?" She nods and he makes his exit. She shakes her head with a wry smile and picks up her desk phone. 15th March 1957 "Arthur." The Major calls out, stopping the assistant director before he rounds a corner. He turns and smiles. "Jane, hello. Anything the matter?" "Yeah, have you got a minute?" She says, stepping around him and into his office. He shrugs and follows her in. "I managed to get a delivery of three RL-3's from Redstone. Something of a coup if I do say so myself." "The chief will certainly be pleased." Roth says, taking a seat behind his desk and leaning back in his chair. His secretary looks in and he waves her away with another smile. "I saw his plans, they look good." "They do, but that's not what I wanted to talk about." She pauses, gathering her thoughts. "Say we get three faultless launches, somehow. We put three satellites into orbit before the end of 1958 and succeed in the President's plans for the IGY." "You're doubting we can do it?" He says, cutting her off as she pauses for breath. "I don't doubt the staff can put together a rocket capable of it. I trust in Murphy though. The RL-3 is well tested, but the upper stage hardware is going to be brand new. If we get three launches with no problems from that I'll eat my rank pins." "A valid point. The plan is sound though." "Yes, it is." she shakes her head. "We're getting off track though. I want to talk to you about what we're going to do next. Even if only one of those satellites gets into orbit, we've succeeded. What then?" "It's obvious, isn't it?" She frowns. "Enlighten me." "We put humans up there. In space." She stares at him, wide eyed. "That's madness. We have no idea what will happen." "So we send probes, and unmanned rockets until we do know. And then we put a person on top of a rocket and they go into space." The Major's frown slowly turns into a smile until she nods. "Okay. Yes, we can do it. Thank you Roth." "My pleasure Major. Now, uh... can I have my office back? Again?" She laughs and stands, passing his secretary on the way out.

Chapter III - Taking to the skies 4th March 1957 Jane watched through her binoculars as the first RB-1 that SREP was going to launch was hoisted into position on its angled launch gantry. It was almost cool this early without the sun beating down on the cape. She hummed to herself as the work crew scurried around the platform and she could see the chief giving directions from the edge of the pad. It had been a busy month and a half. Each department had grown considerably. The Chief now had eight of his 'guys' and Pickering's department had hired on two more staff. Roth got himself a secretary, which she was sure was due to the corporals presence. She'd smiled when she heard about that. Add in the range officer and the two mission control officers from the air force, and SREP was really starting to thrive. She looked down at the rest of the base, taking her eyes off the binoculars. The rest of the staff were starting to wake up, and thus the base was as well. In a few hours, HARP-1 would take to the skies and send back a wealth of information on the upper atmosphere. She put the binoculars down and put on her jacket. If she was going to watch from mission control, she'd look the part as CO- no, Director of SREP. Mission Control, T-minus 60 Wolcott sat at the back of the control bunker buried close to the launch pad. There were only four of them in here, the range officer 1st Lieutenant Charlie Johnson, 2nd Lieutenant Sam Howarths, one of the two mission controllers and one of Pickering's researchers, Charlotte Baker. The rest of the staff were upstairs, waiting to watch the launch from the openings in the above-ground bunker. She listened to the chatter between the team with her eyes closed, tapping on the arm of her chair. "Charlie? Ready?" "Green lights here Sam." "Lottie?" "Quit calling me that Sam." "I can hardly call you Charlie now can I." There's a brief pauses in which the researcher gives the officer a friendly but scathing look. "Instruments are all running. I'm ready." "Okay, launch in... minus 15. We are all green. It's all yours Charlie." The range officer looks round and nods, hands settling on the control board in front of him, watching the black and white closed circuit monitor mounted on the desk in front of him. On the wall in front of them, a repeater showed the rocket sitting on it's pad. "We're at 10... 5... 3, 2, 1, and Launch" He pushes a button on his desk. Outside, an electrical spark races down to the launch pad. It runs up the tower, along the umbilical and deep into the RB-1 rocket. Inside, an ignitor buried in a column of ANCP fires, setting alight the fuel. The umbilical breaks its last connections and swings away, the rocket races into the sky. The Major watches with an open mouth and a quiet awe, as she had for every rocket launch previously. It was different this time, though. A different purpose. She shook herself and went back to listening. "10 seconds elapsed, flight profile is good. Nose down to 57.3 degrees, heading 354.5. She's all yours Sam." "Engine cut out at 55 seconds, rocket ascending well." All three are quiet for a few moments, watching the telemetry coming out of the rocket. "And that's it... Max speed is Mach 5.9. Hey Sam, you should strap yourselves to one of these, you'd beat Twiss." They both chuckle. "Recording atmospheric data." Charlotte says curtly. "Thank you Charlotte." They wait quietly, watching numbers on their screens change as the rocket ascends towards the height of it's flight. "Altitude capped out at 78.7 kilometres, velocity is 1390m/s." "Temperature is -60, Atmosphere density is negligible." "HARP-1 is descending, projected impact site is 475 kilometres west. Empty ocean." "Arming structural charges." Charlie says, opening a perspex panel on his desk. He pushes the button inside and a green light comes on. "Charges are armed. Charlotte, have you got your telemetry?" "Hold on that." Charlotte holds a hand up, watching her gauges. She quickly copies down a few more notes, measurements of all kinds still coming in from the rocket. A minute passes while the two men watch her. Then she raises a thumb. "I'm done." "Thank you." Charlie flips up another cover. "Firing charges." He pushes the button, and the telemetry all goes to nothing. In the upper atmosphere, tiny charges have destabilised the structure of the rocket. Air resistance tears at small holes in the skin, and the rocket quickly turns off course. Seven and a half kilometres from the surface of the ocean, it breaks apart while still travelling at almost mach 4. Four minutes and forty five seconds after launch, the flight of HARP-1 ends. The base went crazy after their first successful flight. Beer was broken out despite it barely being lunchtime, and everyone was clapping and cheering. Jane, Roth, Pickering and Marshall retreated to a side room to discuss their success and their next steps. "Well, I think congratulations are in order gentlemen. A successful launch, even with the somewhat Frankenstein nature of the payload." Pickering blushes scarlet, chuckling to himself. "It's only the start though, yes? What's next? There's only so far we can get, flying rockets in the atmosphere." "The rocket will survive a vertical launch, I know that. Pickering, can you put together another payload in a month?" "Absolutely. As long as Mr Marshall has another rocket for us." He smiles at the other man, who nods. "Absolutely. HARP-2's just waiting for your equipment." "Good. A month then gentlemen. Oh, and I'll see your plans inside a week Chief." "Yes Ma'am." The three men file out, leaving the Major on her own, smiling to herself. Media: An artists impression of HARP-1 at apoapsis. ​Video recorded from a ground site of the first ever SREP launch.

Chapter II - Fixin' to Fly 12th January 1957 Wolcott stepped into Canaveral's combined engineering and research building, the largest building on site, enjoying the wash of cold air that came with it. Even in January it was pushing on 80 degrees in the sun. At least the heat kept the sky clear and the air dry. She shook her head and looked around for a sign to point her in the right direction. Luckily the building was split quite firmly in two, with the engineers in the west wing with the larger rocket assembly hangar attached. The research department took the east wing, much more nondescript than the engineers, despite the labs attached. The Major shrugged to herself and headed right, into the research department. Almost immediately she bumped into one of the most stereotypical scientists she's ever met. White lab coat, white beard, (barely any) white hair on his head and glasses dangling from a lanyard around his neck. He apologised, she followed suit and they shook hands. "Sorry. My wife's always telling me off for rushing around." His English accent was unmistakeable. "No, don't mention it... Pickering?" "Yes, Michael Pickering, head of research. You are?" "Major Wolcott, Director." "Oh yes, Arthur did mention you'd arrived. I'd have come to introduce myself but, well, always busy." He laughs dryly. "I'm not being very clear am I. Come with me." He said, before turning and walking away down the corridor. He led her into one of the side labs, empty except for a tall metal structure and a few desks. He gestures to one and she walks over, finding a set of plans. "Is this the payload for the RB-1?" she asks, bending down to study the plans. "Yes, the first model at least. That truss" he gestures to the metal structure in the corner. "will be the central column holding it and the rocket together. Attached to that will be thermometers, barometers, power supplies, communications equipment and a Geiger counter. Oh, and we're modifying the rockets nose cone to sample the atmosphere on the ascent." She nods her way through his brief explanation, looking over the plan thoughtfully. "It looks like I'll barely recognise her when she goes up." she says smiling. He replies with a polite laugh. "When will it all be ready?" "I'll have to talk to John in engineering, but we'll be done here in... 3 weeks? Four for mating it to the rocket, I'd hope." "Okay. We'll schedule a launch for early March. Thank you Mr Pickering." "Michael, please." He says, laughing again as the door closes behind her. Leaving research she walked back down the corridor and through into the engineering wing. She slows as she passes each door, frowning as she finds it dark. Finally, she comes too the entrance to the assembly hanger, and pushes the door open. She's hit by a wave of heat and noise. Obviously the hanger wasn't as well air conditioned as the rest of the building was. She hears laughter and follows it around a plyboard wall until she can finally see the open hanger. Three RB-1's lie on their sides, one with the nose cone twenty feet away from the rest of its hull. Two men are working on the second, disassembling the upper structure, while another man looks on. The third man turns around, frowning as he sees her. "Director?" he says, deep voice cutting through the noise. She raises a hand in greeting and steps up too him. "John Marshall?" "Yes Ma'am. Chief Engineer of SREP. Pleasure to meet you." he says, taking her hand and shaking it. "And you. I've got a question for you Chief." He frowns again, then gestures for the door. They walk out into the much quieter corridor where he stands, arms folded until she speaks. "Right, the three RB-1's, they'll do for the next few months, maybe this year." "Yes Ma'am, especially with the size of my department." She gives him a sharp look. "We'll talk about hiring staff later Chief. I want to talk about the next launches after these three. We're supposed to be putting something into orbit by the end of 1958, my orders say so." "Well... If we can get a few more RB-1's, we've had a couple of ideas floated in the department about using them as a first stage. Or hell, if you've got the budget, we can look at building a brand new booster. I know my guys have the skills for it, especially with Pickering's helping." "Okay... can you get me a proposal for each plan by the middle of March?" "Should be able to, sure." "Thanks chief. I'll let you get back to work." She walks away as he heads into the hangar, mind whirring.