A Shift in Priorities - Sequel

Mayukh

essarg said:
They are already planning to colonize a moon of Jupiter with Arx project.
Click to expand...
What? When did that take place ?
How did techonolgy advance so rapidly?
Technology cant advance that rapidly within 16 years.
Plz tell that its conceptual.
 
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Mayukh

Can anyone plz tell ne whats the matter with Space Race ittl?
Its apparent so important that people are rioting over it.
 

rast

I was taught that the way of progress is neither swift nor easy.
(Marie Curie)

Khoroshó, one had a new government. It seemed they were encouraging spaceflight. Generàl Tikhonravov had booked him for a journey to Moscow. His proposal to send three NPPs to Saturn while the fourth handled Dragotsénnost had found the general’s approval. Hence, Generál-mayor Ivan Drubchev was now preparing a briefing for the kántsler, or the cabinet, or the minister for spaceflight...

One NPP was completely sufficient for marshalling the asteroid. After all, one had captured it with just Indrik Zver. Braking it down and channelling it towards NSÓ required several batteries of solid-fuel rockets, but nothing that the cargo bays of a single NPP couldn’t carry. – Sending more ships to Dragotsénnost would add nothing useful to the mission. Even if the Saturn mission was cancelled, one would only send a single ship to catch the asteroid.

The Saturn mission was well equipped with three ships, one of which was going to be Indrik Zver, of course. Travel time – one way – would be twelve months; that was quite a long time. However, the physical reality was unchangeable. Exploring Saturn and its moons wasn’t to be had any cheaper. – Though, what would one do in the case the Kremlin didn’t agree to the Saturn mission? Two years of absence with very little visibility might not be attractive for politicians, who wanted quick results or support in the next elections.

Aga, he better also prepared briefings for missions to Mercury, Venus and Ceres, you never knew…
 

rast

In the depths of my heart I can’t help being convinced that my dear fellow-men, with a few exceptions, are worthless.
(Sigmund Freud)

Having been sent on leave by RRA, Ershter Lutenant Yankel Kerschbaumer duly had reported to the war ministry in Nai Bialystok. Okay, they hadn’t been really interested in him, had handed him a pile of questionnaires – and had asked him to hand them in again – completed, please – at the end of his sojourn in the Heymshtot. Yeah, they had no department responsible for spaceflight; the intelligence folks were just routinely gathering information about foreign military establishments.

Visiting Porozeve, his home town, had been more of a reflex than a true desire. Needless to say, Rabbi Shlomo Kerschbaumer, his dad, had been grumbling and raging – as always. But seeing Mom and the siblings had outweighed this inconvenience. The old man had never agreed to his career decision. And he didn’t even know that his oldest son had volunteered for the Phönix – and Alpha Centauri.

Mom knew now; he had told her. It hadn’t made her happy, but she had – reluctantly – accepted his choice. Sure, even if he should come back, she would long be dead. Departing for Alpha Centauri was an irretrievable act. His siblings, two younger sisters and a kid brother, might still be alive, old fogeys, when the starship came back – if it ever came back…

Well, Dad had not allowed his sisters to attend higher school, and was urging Toni, the kid brother, to become a rabbi. So, there was a fair chance the Kerschbaumers would still be around at Porozeve when the Phönix came back in the next century. The little town was not a bad place. The people from Russia and America, who had replaced the expulsed Poles, had modernised the potteries and introduced industrial farming.

Indeed, prosperity had helped, it seemed, to turn the old fusty town into quite a nice place. The environment looked much better today than he remembered from his school days, like neatly fostered parkland. And he was going to board a steel monster – and live among goyim – for the rest of his life…
 

rast

Knowledge is one. Its division into subjects is a concession to human weakness.
(Halford Mackinder)

In astonishment, Vizeadmiral Herbert Kastenmüller had experienced how Arx construction had migrated from Jupiter to Earth. Why hadn’t his planning staff come up with this glorious idea? Obviously, they had been so busy elaborating details that they hadn’t questioned the general conception. Should he have seen the option earlier? Good grief, he was a hunter-killer man, a tactician, not a builder. You had to know to a T how your boat was working, but you were not required to construct it.

Anyway, it was water under the bridge now; one had to flesh out the new scheme. Indeed, a lot had become easier to handle. The construction plans were still the same – only the NPP tail units had to be added. Hence, one hadn’t worked for the wastepaper bin – at least not in this regard. All schedules, however, for shifting workers and colonists to the Jupiter system were mackle – and had to be replaced by new ones. These were a cinch to design, said his folks, in contrast to the old ones.

There was no need now to bring colonists to the construction site. One could complete Arx – and then populate it while it still orbited Earth. This was a huge boon, but it also meant that the colonists had to wait down here for a long time. It might cause some people to resign. Would one find replacements? The original number of applicants had well surpassed the 40,000 programmed, but today the hype had died down. Okay, one was going to see. Arx had been designed for 40,000, but it could also operate with less colonists.

But one surely was not going to scale down the size of the station. The parts had already been ordered. – Although, never bank on politicians; they were changing their minds on the fly. A smaller station would be cheaper – and faster to build. Talk of Pandora’s box…
 

rast

To minds of a certain cast there is nothing so captivating as simplification and generalisation.
(Thomas Malthus)

Tanrıa şükür, the third attempt had been crowned by success; one had Ateş Kuşu’s pusher plate now. Accordingly, construction of the hull had begun. One had lost a lot of time, but regarding the original schedule, still devised by Wernher von Braun, one was still making good time. The Alman had estimated that NPP construction might start at the end of 1967. One had beaten him by fifteen months.

Doctor Idris Sarımsak, who was managing the conventional OŞU affairs – supply of Ucan Halı and Ay Şehri with chemical rockets, thought von Braun had been right – in principle. The government had pushed the efforts too vigorously; two failed pusher plates were proof of that. Had the quality problem truly been solved? Undoubtedly, Anadolu Çelik (Anatolian Steel) of Engürü was the best producer of the realm, but it had been their original time estimate that had gone into von Braun’s schedule.

Of course, the steel company managers would never dare to object when the Grand Vizier demanded alacrity. Miralay Türkeş, the military director, would only click his heels. And Doctor Yünbaş, the civilian director, certainly wouldn’t risk voicing a protest. Yes-men behaviour was a bad insurance against kludge. The steel plant management had been replaced after the initial miscue; the new guys were hardly firm enough to establish a more cautious approach.

All the same, the ship’s power plant was going to come from Germany. Siemens said they could deliver it in complete form by ship to Ras Fartak – in six months. One would use one of the giant tracked vehicles that normally were used to transport chemical rockets to the launch pad for ferrying the unit to the construction site. A special track for this operation was currently under construction. So, the core piece of the NPP was going to be quality made in Germany; that was reassuring. But there were so many other things which might go wrong…
 

rast

Great labour, either of mind or body, continued for several days together is, in most men, naturally followed by a great desire of relaxation, which, if not restrained by force, or by some strong necessity, is almost irresistible.
(Adam Smith)

Masserberg was only a tiny town, actually a village turned climatic spa, but was offering everything that hikers needed. There was not a trace of luxury, yet the food was formidable – and the environment glorious. The Jähn family, Sigmund, his wife Erika, the daughters Marina and Grit, were enjoying the sojourn. Hiking all day was demanding, but also rewarding. Sigmund was glad to spend so much time with his family; and they seemed to appreciate it very much as well.

Like Sigmund, Erika came from a working class background. The daughters, though, aged eight and six, were attending secondary school – and were due to go to university, of course. That was the normal thing for RRA folks; it was a line of work that facilitated advancement. If you were healthy, motivated – and lucky, you could rise from nonentity to general – or admiral. Okay, there also were some aristocrats around – like Helga von Tschirschwitz or Commodore von Reventlow, but the vast majority of the kosmonauts were coming from modest origins.

Yeah, it was perhaps one of the reasons why spacefaring had become so popular. Before the Great War, the Kaiserliche Marine had also been immensely popular – because it had offered advancement for the sons of the middle classes, detached from the Prussian Army, the traditional domain of the aristocracy. Today, ordinary kids from the street could advance to general, like Jochen Zeislitz or Bruno Bredigkeit had done, and – by the way – study technical sciences and even become professor.

It was an ingenious system. And it was also open to women – in principle. The physical requirements were stringent though, only few girls managed to qualify. Well, Director Kammler had determined that the NPPs should only be manned by males – although the women aboard the Hammer had done a marvellous job. But for the Phönix this couldn’t apply. The starship had to have a mixed crew. – But Erika was adamant: her daughters wouldn’t travel through the void.
 

rast

There are so many different kinds of stupidity, and cleverness is one of the worst.
(Thomas Mann)

Friedrichshafen was a nice place, only that you couldn’t understand the natives. The great advantage of cooperation between Middle Africans and Germans lay in the use of the shared language. But the good people hereabouts didn’t speak German. The local dialect was closer to the Swiss tongue than to the Swabian idioms spoken further north, the SIKOS folks had been told. That might well be; it was altogether unintelligible nevertheless.

It was not a problem for operations together with DELAG or RRA; these guys spoke standard German. But once you left the realm of spaceflight and went shopping or dining, you were confronted with mumbling natives. Okay, it wasn’t an intractable problem. They usually understood standard German, so you were able to tell them what you wanted; their answers though remained cloudy twaddle. It was an irksome but marginal issue.

The Bhaee Paul had already hoisted Oxum into orbit. That had been a test, which one had turned into a demonstration. It had worked out very well. The Snowpushers had been impressed. Once in orbit, Oxum had docked at Raumkolonie – before returning to Friedrichshafen. – That was the job one was going to perform in future: shuttling trainees to Raumkolonie and back to Earth, plus supplying the station.

It was a straightforward task. Lake Constance was just large enough to allow unimpaired takeoff of the Bhaees. Compared to Lake Victoria, it was a puddle. But the technical facilities of DELAG were top class. Compared to the modest sheds at Bukoba, one had landed in a technician’s paradise. One was now waiting for Hindustan Aircraft Ltd to deliver the four extra Mota Choohas. The job of shuttling trainees was due to begin in mid-November, hence one still had six weeks to familiarise.
 
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rast

In practical life we are compelled to follow what is most probable; in speculative thought we are compelled to follow truth.
(Baruch Spinoza)

The Siemens technicians were still busy assembling the powerplant. General Zeislitz had arrived with the second haulage. He agreed with the steering mechanism Professor Fuchs had developed; it ought to work – or at least the pilot ought to be capable of serving the controls. Whether it really worked, one was going to find out – as soon as the powerplant was working.

Fuchs had – once again – reflected about the magnetic fields. Would they mutually interfere? That – in particular – applied to feeding field and holding field. The feeding field had to deliver the hydrogen to the little sun, which was held in place by the holding field. It boded interference. – The protective field was separate, shielding “Adam”, placed in front of the rig.

If the holding field was kept horizontal, in the abscissa, the feeding field could work from above, along the ordinate. That was the basic idea. But… Well, one could test it – before the little sun was ignited. That was the good news. But Fuchs wasn’t quite sure how to fix the interference problem, if there should be one. Might one be able to compensate the interference?

The Little Phönix, the small initial model, had had only one field, but it also had proven unsteerable – and had eloped into the unknown. Therefore Fuchs had introduced two fields – and later had added the third, the protective field. Hitherto, one had gained no experience with multiple fields. However, that was going to change soon. And as long as the little sun was off, nothing dangerous could happen, couldn’t it?
 

rast

Originality is nothing but judicious plagiarism.
(Voltaire)

Acting the national figurehead, the Grüßaugust as Sisiliya, his wife, used to say, was demanding but unrewarding for Tsar Vladimir IV. The appointment calendar was always filled: openings, congresses, exhibitions, et cetera ad nauseam. Not a whiff of political decision was permitted to him; his speeches were written by a bunch of ghostwriters in the kántsler’s office. It was the job for a moron.

The Russian populace was indifferent, by and large. The average city dweller didn’t care much about the monarchy – and the rural folks didn’t fear the tsar any more. The Nyemtsi had reintroduced Russian monarchy after having sponsored White victory in the Civil War. In a time when constitutional monarchy had seemed to be universal that had been standing to reason.

However, people in Russia hadn’t exactly been waiting for a new tsar – after the fiasco of Nikolay II in peace and war. They grumbly had accepted what they couldn’t avoid. Insofar, constitutionality had been a boon: the politicians, elected by the people, were responsible. Vladimir, like his father Kyril I before, bore no responsibility for nothing. He was only the poster boy.

Khorosho, the kántsler was obliged to brief him once a week. And he, the formal head of state, was the one who had to appoint the man. The new kántsler, Semyon Prosinyuk, was a cute guy, smart and full of ideas. The coalition he was leading, though, did not bode striding progress. The Farmers were okay in principle, but the Environmentalists and the True Believers were no promoters of change and advance.

Blessedly, that was Prosinyuk’s problem now. He, Volodya, had no say. And – considering the whole mess – that was perhaps not a bad thing. Because he was lacking striking ideas – and was not looking forward to change. Okay, the international situation was going to relax, most probably; Prosinyuk was not a warmonger. But would the economy really burgeon? And would the people truly profit from it?
 
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rast

No sooner are some false prophets put down than others pop up in all directions.
(John Calvin)

The Leizhou Peninsula, the southern tip of Guangdong Province, had been chosen as location for the future spaceport of the Middle Kingdom. It had been a long-running decision process. Admiral Ji Xinhwen, the chief of Operation Qilin, had opted for the island of Hainan. It was the southernmost point of the empire, hence quite suitable for launching rockets into orbit.

But for an NPP proximity to the equator wasn’t essential. And supplying the spaceport by ship only would be onerous. The Admiral had challenged the latter statement thrustfully. Supply by ship was the most economical form of supply. That certainly was correct in general terms. But in this case, an effective railway link was superior. Okay, that wasn’t existing yet, but could easily be built – and much faster than constructing a high-performance port on Hainan.

Professor Tang, the scientific director, had proposed a place near Chongqing, because of the proximity to the nuclear sites and the dense cluster of nuclear scientists assembled there. That was an important point. But the terrain around Chongqing was difficult – to say the least. And an NPP should take off and land in quite a distance from any major population centre, shouldn’t it? Hence, one had finally agreed upon the Leizhou Peninsula.

The place was called Chengbei. A port was available at the near-by village of Xincun, where the ferries to Hainan were putting out to sea. It was undeveloped backcountry; one would have to upgrade the rail link and the port facilities. Yes, and a steel plant had to be erected of course. However, now that one had a decision, proceedings could be anticipated to accelerate decisively.
 
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rast

Before all masters, necessity is the one most listened to, and who teaches the best.
(Jules Verne)

Indeed, close inspection of the Feuerdrache had revealed an alarming quantity of radiation. Peter Vogel had studied the report. Sojourning in the tail end would be very perilous for your health; but – normally – nobody was allowed to tarry there. The only reason to go there would be a jamming of the gun, something that had not happened during all the years of NPP operation.

There also was radiation in the inhabited part, but it was minimal. In fact, one might write it off as health-promoting. It was known since the turn of the century that slight doses of radiation were good for the human body. As long as the organism could cope with the effects of radiation – some few cells ailing or dying – the body’s defences were strengthened in process.

But the problem was that radiation didn’t go away on the quick – and that future operations were going to enhance it. Right now, it was not yet necessary to block the Feuerdrache, but the moment to do it might come soon. Yeah, the bird was due for tail end substitution, without that one had any of the special machines yet. One could employ the Koreans and their strange widget though…

Vogel had asked them. They had said they would be pleased to be of help. And yes, of course, they were confident to be able to cut the tail end to wieldy pieces. – But one didn’t have a spare tail end; therefore it should be better to monitor the Feuerdrache closely – and keep it operational for the time being.
 

rast

One believes things because one has been conditioned to believe them.
(Aldous Huxley)

Men! Tosspots! It always was the same old story: they would get drunk, no matter the cause. And the kántsler was the worst of the bunch. Damn, Leonid was five years her senior. He was going to be sixty in December, was not a young and fit guy any more. How did he cope with all that alcohol?

With slight disgust, Lesya Petiurla was watching Leonid Brezhnev and Lev Rebet chink glasses. It was a normal review of the interior situation. Leonid was presiding, she, the minister of the interior, and Lev, the head of the Bespeky, the secret service, were briefing. Lev was her age, more or less. Not a young man either, but as sottish as Leonid.

Was there reason to celebrate? Well, yes, the ethnic Russians were turning more loyal again. All attempts to foment them from across the border had ceased. And the new government in the Kremlin had signalled that they were not revisionist but were wholly accepting the current borders. That was nice. But it certainly was no reason to get drunk.

No, not getting drunk, but getting drunker. They already had been lit on arrival. At the end of the day, their bodyguards would carry them home and put them to bed. The miracle was that the government was working at all under these conditions. But who could tell, perhaps it would work much worse if they remained sober?
 

rast

Perseverance and spirit have done wonders in all ages.
(George Washington)

The powerplant had been installed; the Siemens folks were now in train of awakening the reactor. They said it was going to take them a fortnight. That, at least, was the time they had needed on Himmelsschmiede. At Mondstadt it had even been four weeks – because of the awkward position of the reactor. SMS Dora was present and lending energy. But that, of course, couldn’t be used for testing the magnetic field generators. One had to wait for the reactor.

Professor Fuchs had sketched out several possible courses for dealing with interferences. He thought it could be managed. The individual processes weren’t that complicated. The feeding field mustn’t be disrupted; that was of paramount importance. The holding field, though, should get over a certain amount of interference without losing its functionality. It was a compact affair working close to the ship, hence it was – should be – easier to control than the feeding field.

General Zeislitz was only shrugging his shoulders. Yes, the feeding field was important because it was feeding the little sun with hydrogen – or rather protons. Without it, there would be no little sun. But the holding field was supposed to do all the work needed to navigate the ship. In fact, the pilot’s controls were designed to act upon the holding field. Was it really clever to have interferences impair this function?

Well, one was going to find out – as soon as the reactor was operational. One wouldn’t ignite the little sun before the interference problem had been solved. Fuchs did not intend to embark on a journey of no return. Kapitän zur See Collmann, SMS Dora’s captain, said there was no need for hurry, his ship would be around all the time – and even follow the test rig, once it got moving.
 

rast

Progress, therefore, is not an accident, but a necessity… It is part of nature.
(Herbert Spencer)

Riding in a submarine was… weird. Okay, they didn’t drive submerged, but on the surface – as long as the weather allowed. But slots on the sail were limited to the personnel on duty – in principle. Now and then, they would let you climb up – to take the air for a couple of minutes. For the rest of the time, you were confined to your bunk – as not to stand in the crew’s way.

Fritz Ma’alongwe wouldn’t complain. Having a thorough lie-in was okay for him. The boat’s movements didn’t bother him in particular. From Barra Patuca to Puerto Cortés – or the other way round – a boat needed about fifteen hours. That was time enough for an invigorating nap. The constant drone of the engines exerted a soothing influence on him. Just close your eyes and have a dream…

The port of Puerto Cortés was developing reasonably well. UMS – Ulugewe, Mwabi & Sikuku – had restored only a small portion, the two westernmost berths, closest to the sea lane and just sufficient for processing a pair of their blue-and-white vessels. But the Peruvians, concerned with restoring the railway, were now taking care of the rest – because the rail line had, of course, to start at the berths.

They were tidying up the sea front, at least. New dockside cranes were not envisaged. It was progress, nevertheless. And the two old locos, donated by UMS, were used in support of the operation. – The rail line to former San Pedro Sula had already been cleared from shrubs and slumping. The sleepers and the rails were under repair now. – On the Pacific side, the Koreans were almost ready. They were using the ports at – former – La Unión and Acajutla, now connected by rail.

Yeah, one was getting somewhere. Fritz had dispatched a division to the Pacific side. Their mission was to establish garrisons at the two port locations. That should add some local populace to the Korean workers.
 

rast

You cannot fight against future. Time is on its side.
(William E. Gladstone)

Growth was still linear, and the gradient was only slight. This little ice age – or was it a big one? – was taking its time to accrue. Hermann Wölken had analysed the data of the recent year. BBGG was expanding, but only very slowly. The same applied to the Scandinavian glaciers – and those on Novaya Zemlya. If matters continued in this way, it was going to take thousands of years until a real ice advance could occur.

Yes, global climate was changing. But that was normal. It was doing that all the time. Only that this specific change could be attributed to the Chinese super bomb. Hence, human activity had caused it. But the influence had lasted for a short time only. The little sun had just shone for a couple of seconds; and the material hurled into the upper atmosphere had come down again within the next three years.

Except for BBGG, nothing was left today. Was this huge glacier sufficient to cause a cold period? – Earth’s orbit around the Sun was unchanged, as was axial tilt and precession. Therefore, if Milankovitch’s theory should be correct – and Wölken thought this was the case – there was no reason why Earth should slip into a cold period right now. On the contrary, the orbit around the Sun was almost circular. That boded for a warm period.

Or was BBGG a self-fulfilling prophesy? It might be. One had no precedent to judge from. Even the growth of the Scandinavian and Novaya Zemlyan glaciers could be discounted. They had been there before the Weizsäcker Sun; it could be anticipated that they would regenerate. – Damn slow motion… A human lifespan was not enough to accompany these developments. His great-great-grandson might know, but he, Hermann Wölken, was going to die ignorant.
 
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