comfortably like that to go on vacation. We’ve developed new technology that will make orbital travel more mundane. I’ll let my colleague, Dr. Jillian Gracie, explain.”
“Thank you, Dick,” said the scientist as she stood up beside him. A murmur of snickers came from the crowd.
Jillian Gracie was an aeronautics engineer working with NASA through an independent contractor. Peryson didn’t know her personally; she was just another lab coat working on the project from behind the scenes. She had, however, high-clearance knowledge of the transportation mechanics of the project, and acted as its occasional speaker. She was a far better choice to explain the general principles of Olympus travel than Peryson, who would have probably given all the classified secrets away in his first sentence. Gracie was part of a new generation of young scientists eager to prove themselves to the old guard, and he hated her self-confidence.
“Our main goal is to make transporting passengers to and from earth’s orbit as comfortable as possible. Like my colleague has said, we’re doing away with sending people off to space sitting on their backs. Now, people can touch the stars by riding in a plane.”
She adjusted her glasses and loosened her hair down her shoulders. She made sure to close the flaps of her lab coat as she left her chair and walked across the stage. A large projector screen descended from the ceiling with a faint whir. Standing at a lectern to the side of the stage, she lifted a hand-held remote control and began her presentation.
“Lights please,” she said with authority. Different images flashed across the screen, bordering on the silhouette heads of her colleagues still seated at the table.
“Passengers will be riding comfortably in a new Isis-class space shuttle. These shuttles are much larger than those of the past, more of a first-class airplane than those hideous matchboxes we call coach seating. This plane is capable of hypersonic speed, easily able to go above the basic Mach standards.”
Static slides, combined with flowing animation, flashed repeatedly across the projector screen. A subtle audio soundtrack of sound effects and music whispered from the auditorium speakers.
“In order to conserve fuel, we will be piggy-backing the shuttle on a 747 Jumbo Jet. No, it will not be a vertical ascent. The jet will follow a rising horizontal trajectory until it reaches a nominal high altitude. At the proper height and speed, the shuttle will fire its own rockets, separating from the plane and then docking with the Olympus Station at the edge of space. Part of our fuel will come from the atmosphere itself, with sophisticated converters simultaneously absorbing and releasing fuel that will aid in its velocity.
“The passengers will have to wear light jumpsuits to compensate for the changes in atmospheric pressure, and not those ridiculously bulky turtle shells astronauts used to wear when frolicking on the lunar surface.
“Safety is of utmost importance. Regardless of the shuttle’s velocity, should an emergency arise either going to or returning from the space station, the cockpit and the passenger section of the fuselage can detach and parachute down to the ocean. That is another first in airline technology, which will soon be adopted by all earthbound flights. As fantastic as all this sounds, this is just old technology reinvented to its full potential.”
Jillian Gracie adjusted her glasses on her nose. “Lights, please.”
Another roar of applause came from the audience as the auditorium lights faded back to life. She placed the remote control on the lectern and sat back in her chair.
“Thank you, Jillian. Fantastic show,” said Peryson while clapping his hands. Jillian looked away, indifferent to his compliment.
“I know there are plenty of questions out there, so we will take them one at a time. Please state your name and the organization you represent.” Peryson scanned the rows of hands
“Thank you, Dick,” said the scientist as she stood up beside him. A murmur of snickers came from the crowd.
Jillian Gracie was an aeronautics engineer working with NASA through an independent contractor. Peryson didn’t know her personally; she was just another lab coat working on the project from behind the scenes. She had, however, high-clearance knowledge of the transportation mechanics of the project, and acted as its occasional speaker. She was a far better choice to explain the general principles of Olympus travel than Peryson, who would have probably given all the classified secrets away in his first sentence. Gracie was part of a new generation of young scientists eager to prove themselves to the old guard, and he hated her self-confidence.
“Our main goal is to make transporting passengers to and from earth’s orbit as comfortable as possible. Like my colleague has said, we’re doing away with sending people off to space sitting on their backs. Now, people can touch the stars by riding in a plane.”
She adjusted her glasses and loosened her hair down her shoulders. She made sure to close the flaps of her lab coat as she left her chair and walked across the stage. A large projector screen descended from the ceiling with a faint whir. Standing at a lectern to the side of the stage, she lifted a hand-held remote control and began her presentation.
“Lights please,” she said with authority. Different images flashed across the screen, bordering on the silhouette heads of her colleagues still seated at the table.
“Passengers will be riding comfortably in a new Isis-class space shuttle. These shuttles are much larger than those of the past, more of a first-class airplane than those hideous matchboxes we call coach seating. This plane is capable of hypersonic speed, easily able to go above the basic Mach standards.”
Static slides, combined with flowing animation, flashed repeatedly across the projector screen. A subtle audio soundtrack of sound effects and music whispered from the auditorium speakers.
“In order to conserve fuel, we will be piggy-backing the shuttle on a 747 Jumbo Jet. No, it will not be a vertical ascent. The jet will follow a rising horizontal trajectory until it reaches a nominal high altitude. At the proper height and speed, the shuttle will fire its own rockets, separating from the plane and then docking with the Olympus Station at the edge of space. Part of our fuel will come from the atmosphere itself, with sophisticated converters simultaneously absorbing and releasing fuel that will aid in its velocity.
“The passengers will have to wear light jumpsuits to compensate for the changes in atmospheric pressure, and not those ridiculously bulky turtle shells astronauts used to wear when frolicking on the lunar surface.
“Safety is of utmost importance. Regardless of the shuttle’s velocity, should an emergency arise either going to or returning from the space station, the cockpit and the passenger section of the fuselage can detach and parachute down to the ocean. That is another first in airline technology, which will soon be adopted by all earthbound flights. As fantastic as all this sounds, this is just old technology reinvented to its full potential.”
Jillian Gracie adjusted her glasses on her nose. “Lights, please.”
Another roar of applause came from the audience as the auditorium lights faded back to life. She placed the remote control on the lectern and sat back in her chair.
“Thank you, Jillian. Fantastic show,” said Peryson while clapping his hands. Jillian looked away, indifferent to his compliment.
“I know there are plenty of questions out there, so we will take them one at a time. Please state your name and the organization you represent.” Peryson scanned the rows of hands
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