Fermi’s propulsion system will begin pumping 400,000 pounds of hydrogen through the fuel rods in the core of the nuclear reactor. The fissioning uranium atoms will heat the hydrogen fuel to three thousand degrees, giving the nuclear thermal rocket twice the propulsion efficiency of chemical rockets like those that were used on the old Space Shuttle or the Apollo program’s Saturn V.”
On TV screens across the world, Treadway walked godlike on the face of the deep, explaining, “The Fermi lander is unmanned, completely automated. Its mission is to land on the surface of Mars, delivering enough supplies to keep the Arrow ’s crew of eight men and women alive and well for thirty days, once they get there. The lander will also serve as rather Spartan quarters for the human explorers as they live and work on the surface of Mars.”
Pressing one finger into the electronics bud in his left ear, Treadway announced, “Rocket engine ignition will take place in thirty seconds. Remember, there will be no sound. In space, there’s no air to carry sound.”
Treadway’s image disappeared from the scene, but his voice continued, “There won’t be much to see, either, since the ultrahot hydrogen gas expelled from the rocket’s thruster will be invisible. But— there she goes .”
It seemed that nothing much happened, but suddenly the huge bulk of the Fermi spacecraft leaped off the screen. The view immediately changed to a camera on board the ship, and the immense sphere of Earth dwindled noticeably.
“Godspeed, Fermi !” Treadway’s voice called after the departing spacecraft. “On to Mars!”
Treadway’s image appeared again. He was standing in the empty studio, looking slightly embarrassed after his burst of emotion.
“Steven Treadway reporting,” he said.
The TV broadcast immediately switched to a scene of picketers marching in front of the main gate of the Kennedy Space Flight Center in Florida, some carrying signs proclaiming no nukes in space and others hands off mars.
October 4, 2034
Earth Departure Minus Six Months
16:05 Universal Time
Marshall Space Flight Center, Alabama
“. . . and that’s the NTR, behind the shadow shield,” Benson was saying.
He and Treadway were in a huge, hangarlike building where the full-scale mockup of the Arrow spacecraft was spread across the concrete floor: a big rocket nozzle at one end, bulbous tankage, square panels the size of baseball diamonds, all connected to a long, metallic ladderlike central boom.
Four different TV miniaturized cameras were floating across the floor beneath toy-sized ballons of helium, automatically following their progress along the length of the mockup, with a fifth camera unit hanging up near an overhead truss that ran the length of the cavernous building.
Around the world, viewers who had the new three-dimensional home theaters didn’t merely watch a screen, they could step into the scene along with Treadway and Benson, walk along the length of the spaceship beside them.
“NTR?” Treadway asked. He knew the initials stood for nuclear thermal engine, but the VR Net audience wasn’t familiar with NASA’s bewildering jungle of acronyms.
“Nuclear thermal rocket,” said Benson, his voice flat, no trace of annoyance in it. “The nuclear reactor heats hydrogen gas to three thousand degrees Fahrenheit and the hot gas is fired through the rocket nozzles. That’s what gives us the thrust we need for TMI.”
“Trans-Mars Injection,” Treadway translated the NASA acronym.
Looking halfway between embarrassed and irritated, Benson explained, “Right. That’s when we break Earth orbit and head for Mars.”
Making a slightly worried frown, Treadway said, “A nuclear rocket? Isn’t that dangerous?”
Benson shook his head. “The Russians have flown dozens of nuclear power systems over the years. With the NTR we only have to carry half the propellant that we’d need with chemical rockets. It’s got twice the specific impulse of