Get to da Shuttle.
22.oct.2120.
"Kepler-West" Rocket Launch Site. Launch Pad "South-002".
The bus slowed down and came to a smooth stop. Outside the window, the huge shuttle stood out as a bright spot against the night background - the measures of total blackout here, in the deep rear, were unnecessary, and the hull was slightly illuminated from below. This was done not so much out of a desire to illuminate the ship itself, but to illuminate the launch pad for the personnel - the ship was illuminated only by secondary reflected light. The shuttle towered in the middle of the concrete field like a huge white candle - there were no auxiliary launch complexes or structures around it. The previous generation of ships, that is, the usual V-shuttles, also landed on an empty platform, but as far as Zavirdyaev knew, their takeoff was carried out with the participation of a squat mast located nearby, which in turn was part of a mobile installation. That system seemed to supply the device preparing to take off with electricity, maybe something like compressed air. This one was on its own.
The bus doors swung open. Zavirdyaev rose from his seat, glanced meaningfully towards the two officers sitting in the front seats located along the cabin and headed for the exit.
He did all this, not without a bit of posing - he knew that his entire "ascent" to the ship was being recorded on video, for history, and in his, Zavirdyaev's, case it would really be a video document of history.
He headed alone to the shuttle, at the base of which stood three people in light anti-radiation suits. - Once upon a time, our Gagarin walked to his shuttle, or rather to his rocket, in much the same way, - Zavirdyaev thought to himself, taking steps towards his future and the future of all mankind. - Then there were these three Americans, who in the next century were considered the first people in space, because, you see, a simple flight in orbit does not count, but another planet - that is true.
Now he, Andrei Zavirdyaev, was walking to his ship. If everything goes as expected, then he will come to the fore. Perhaps for many centuries. And now, away with unnecessary emotions, they will come later. Now we need to get into the ship.
The three technicians saluted. Zavirdyaev greeted them in return and stood in front of the entrance unit, from which the most ordinary-looking staircase descended. It looked a little funny - there was a huge new-generation shuttle and next to it there was no mast with an elevator. On the other hand, this was an attribute of the ship's perfection. As far as Zavirdyaev knew, the Shuttle with its engine had been designed before the War and it was assumed that the ship would be able to deliver personnel and cargo to the Moon "from door to door", that is, take off from Earth and land on the site opposite the lunar base without any intermediate manipulations such as docking and undocking. If on Earth it was not a big problem to provide the necessary infrastructure and facilities for takeoff and landing, then on the Moon it was somewhat more problematic. In principle, the problem was solvable, and the gravity there was weaker. Before the War, there were already robotic complexes that could carry out the initial arrangement of the lunar site. The lunar base did not begin with the landing of people, but with the arrival and unloading of this machinery. However, everything that was connected with the Moon was not the main thing for scientists and researchers - a link of several ships could be the main transport component for creating a base on Mars, and there with the primary site everything would be much more complicated. One way or another, the new century that had begun postponed all these plans for an indefinite period. And so, despite the War, the super shuttle was built and successfully flew - after all, not only did it arrive here under its own power, but before that it had probably managed to complete more than one full cycle from takeoff to landing. However, it would probably be incorrect to say "despite the War", it would be more correct to say "thanks" to the demands of the War.
The most curious thing was that Zavirdyaev's knowledge was still limited to a certain extent - his memory was restored gradually, and not spontaneously, but in a certain sequence. Now he was perfectly aware that he was about to take the place of the duty pilot, who was supposed to be on board at all times in case of an emergency takeoff. He realized that this was exactly the kind of takeoff-evacuation that was supposed to take place, but he had no idea what was supposed to provoke such an evacuation. The issue, of course, was in no way discussed with the rocket launch site personnel - only the mysterious driver mentioned the procedure for restoring memory. It was there, outside the first base, the Air Force base. That was enough.
Now the pilot, whose replacement was Zavirdyaev, was descending down the tunnel-shaft laid inside the ship.
Finally, he showed up. Descending from the depths of the shuttle along the ladder, he energetically jumped to the ground and walked towards the bus. Zavirdyaev silently greeted the passing officer, after which he moved forward.
Approaching the entry module, he took a deep breath and grabbed the step that was shiny with stainless steel. The boots of the space suit began to stomp loudly on the metal. The habitable compartment began thirty-five meters above the surface level, on which the shuttle stood with its steel supports.
However, he did not have to climb all thirty-five meters - although the ladder really did go all the way up, in the shaft laid from the habitable compartment to the bottom there was an ingenious lattice folding platform-elevator, which was essentially an elevator.
Another notable feature that Zavirdyaev had noticed while still standing on the ground was that the tunnel was closed manually from below with a flimsy partition, which hardly provided any kind of airtightness. Perhaps it somehow protected the tunnel and the stairs with the elevator from the effects of the exhaust during landing or takeoff.
The tunnel was painted in alternating light and dark segments - apparently, according to the designers' idea, its space was supposed to be perceived more comfortably.
While Zavirdyaev was climbing, the ship had already managed to make itself known - the voice of the onboard computer's artificial intelligence sounded over the intercom system, outlining how the procedure for entering the habitable compartment would look. The computer was obviously informed that this was Colonel Greenberg's, that is, Zavirdyaev's, first duty on the shuttle.
There, at the top of the entrance gateway, there was something like a platform a little more than half a square meter. The platform had railings. There was also a control panel, which was not needed for the normal operation of the AI. A ladder a couple of meters high led up again.
The lattice surface of the elevator covering the tunnel, which was level with the tiny platform, protected against falling, but still this place could not be called cozy. And when the ship takes off, this entire space will not be isolated from the external atmosphere and the space environment at all.
The lights around the entrance airlock flashed white and red, after which the round cover went up. There, behind the opening hatch, a more cozy transition space to the habitable compartment appeared.
Zavirdyaev once again grabbed the step and climbed up. The airlock had a rectangular door with a small window, through which Zavirdyaev managed to make out the edge of the launch site illuminated by a dim light.
The habitable compartment, following the airlock, included two tiers. The lower one, where Zavirdyaev found himself, was the main living space for the crew - from five to seven people, depending on the length of the expedition.
To put it simply, the number of crew members depended on whether the ship was flying to the Moon or Mars. On the upper tier was the control compartment, or, to put it simply, as Zavirdyaev, who was far from scientific, formulated it for himself, there was a salon below and a cabin above.
In the military version, the habitable compartment should have housed officers who were engaged in weapons systems and carrying out attacks. Now it was more of a real combat spacecraft than a means of delivering expeditions.
Still, it was clear that this magnificence was only in the process of being brought to mind - there were no combat posts in the "salon".
Instead, there were seven beds installed in the "salon". The entire space was not a round room, but was divided by a partition, or rather, a compartment, where "cabinets" for storing various necessary things were located, and in this "partition" there was also a very unique shower and an equally unusual space toilet. The fact that the lower tier space was arranged in the form of two semi-compartments was supposed to provide some kind of privacy for the crew.
In essence, it was the most perfect interplanetary spacecraft for the year 2120. It's amazing, all last century, and even earlier, people dreamed, fantasized, made films about ships the size of if not a city, then a skyscraper, and then...
However, this bird was worth all the windbags of the past taken together, both in terms of budgets for their crafts and in terms of historical significance. The great revolution, which will determine the future of humanity for centuries, begins at this very moment.
Zavirdyaev quickly looked around the lower tier and headed up. If only this technique would work with the final restoration of everything necessary in memory - once in the chair, in a calm environment, it was necessary to make a kind of "jerk", by an effort of will intensifying the process of final de-preservation of memory. The control compartment housed two pilot seats that automatically assumed a prone position during takeoff and landing overloads - Zavirdyaev had known this back in 2113. Now he knew the instrument panel very well - a module slightly hanging over the seat with two rectangular screens and a few buttons attached under the screens. Technical information had been brought, if not loaded, during the summer update. There, in Hanover, two agents who introduced themselves as KANAR members staged everything as a small drinking bout over the fact that everything was going quite well with the evacuation of the "Doc's" niece. Instead of continuing the drinking, the slightly drunk Zavirdyaev unexpectedly found himself in a closed medical center, most likely belonging to AEX. That epiphany was, of course, accompanied by emotions and melancholy over the fact that he was about to become a worthless CSCE clerk in the lousy Superfederant again. Now this won't happen...
Below, on the left behind the chair, there was an interface node - a cable-hose hanging on the left side had to be plugged in there - this way the suit would have access to the ship's oxygen and water reserves, and at the same time a rigid wire connection to the computer.
Zavirdyaev removed the cover from the "gut" attached to the side and clicked the connector into the socket.
- It's good that they didn't attach this hose to the suit from the front, - he chuckled to himself.
The ship's cabin lived its own life. Somewhere the fans were humming. Also down there, the turbo unit was howling, and not only it - the powerful reactor was working constantly, and this work could not be silent by definition.
On the left display, a fairly clearly readable, colored "stand-by" table of the state of the main systems of the ship appeared. Of course, the AI was in charge of everything. If only a human were to control these systems, it would be necessary to seat a dozen officers in the cabin, plus organize a broadband line with a special control center. This is how remote control was done a long time ago.
On each side of the cabin, to the left of Zavirdyaev's seat and to the right of the second, there were two windows - one at head level, the second higher. There was also an airlock with an exit hatch behind the pilots - external units could be docked to this exit.
This was necessary in case of docking with orbital stations, of which, however, there were none flying at the moment. There were two more exits-airlocks below - Zavirdyaev just passed one of them when he was climbing into the habitable compartment.
Whatever you say, the ship was packed as it should be. The pre-war Plane shuttles, which flew like airplanes, were also outstanding machines, but they could not fly to another planet "from door to door". Of course, in terms of power-to-weight ratio they were far behind - they were completely filled with archaic chemical fuel only in flight, otherwise they would not have taken off - the chassis would not have held up.
It was surprising how Oppenheimer, this prominent supporter of the concept of orbital warfare, could come to terms with the fact that such a shuttle, or rather, this entire program, was financed on a residual basis. At least, this was the version that Zavirdyaev was given.
Also, as far as Zavirdyaev was informed about the technical part, about the characteristics of the ship, such a machine was not just a superweapon of the season, but almost the entire War. A century and a half ago, the Germans really got their V-2 rocket program going. Although the rockets were outstanding machines from an engineering point of view, they did not bring military results, they simply could not bring them. Now, if we compare it with that war, it was as if the "good guys", the allies, suddenly created not just their own replica of the "V-2", but a "Minuteman" or a Soviet version of it, with a warhead. If this shuttle had appeared in the first year of the current war, the Asian Bloc would probably have long forgotten the times when it had something flying in orbit. Of course, one machine would hardly have been able to cope - a group of at least three, or even five, would have been needed. The task that was set before Zavirdyaev could easily have been handled by one ship and one Zavirdyaev, and the result...
It's amazing, he, Zavirdyaev, will go down in history as a great performer, partly an organizer and, perhaps, to some extent an ideologist, and all this time he, with an erased, or rather, with a deleted memory, was hanging around the pears in the SFS, where this "Combat" now rules.
The latter sometimes did Zavirdyaev and some other SFS members the honor of inviting them to his sabbaths... It's not that it's funny to remember, but in general, it practically never happened.
Zavirdyaev thought for a while.
I wonder, if he, Zavirdyaev, got drunk as hell at that same "Combat", could it damage his hidden memories? Maybe they assigned someone to him? It seems he got drunk, but nothing... A reliable method was developed in the laboratories of either AEX or GBA.