“The source of our trouble. I can see what happened now. The pogoing and that aborted separation we had with the core body booster. There was plenty of misaligned thrust then, knocking about. The shroud must have been shifted because it bashed into one of the motors. There are quartz fragments floating out of it and the thrust chamber is all askew and dented. I'm close to it now. Motor four. The others look okay. Going up it now to look into the trumpet. I can see now… my God.. it's a mess. A real mess. Broken tubes, quartz everywhere… must have a massive gas leakage.”
Ely looked down at the ravaged interior of the engine, then pulled back slowly and stared at the great globe of the Earth that half filled the sky. It was infinitely more impressive when viewed from space rather than through the port. Big and close, far too close. Mission Control was saying something but he was not listening to their words. Flax's voice broke off when Ely began talking.
“That engine is not going to fire, ever again. Do you read that, Mission Control? Unless you can come up with some way to bypass it so we can fire the other four engines we've had it. End of mission. End of Prometheus. So get cracking. We need some advice.”
25
It was after two in the morning and Red Square in Moscow was deserted; even the line of visitors waiting to enter Lenin's tomb had vanished for a few hours. The two armed guards stationed there looked on with little interest as a large black Moskva limousine turned into the square and accelerated towards the Kremlin. Cars of this kind arrived at all hours of the day and night for that destination. Perhaps a few more tonight than was usual, but of course there was no indication why. No public announcement of the destruction of Cottenham New Town had been made on the radio yet nor, for once, had The Voice of America been in a hurry to carry glum news to the Russian people.
Engineer Glushko led the way and easily penetrated the outer circle of functionaries and guards. Both he and Academician Moshkin who trailed after him had been here on a number of occasions. Their identification helped because anyone connected with the Prometheus Project certainly had business here tonight. Within these walls everyone knew what had happened. They also knew that Glushko was senior project engineer and the little professor with him was also involved, somehow, with the project.
Despite the fact that the two men had no reason to be in the Kremlin this morning, they progressed quite far before being brought up short. The inner circle of senior civil servants owed their seniority to intelligence, ability and suspicion, in almost equal parts. The graying man behind the desk, with ash on his lapels and the cigarette in his mouth trickling smoke into his half-shut eye, resembled all the other officials the two men had recently seen and bypassed. But this one would not be as easy. He turned their identification over and over in his hands as though looking for some fact he had missed the first time through.
“Of course, tovarichi, I appreciate your positions on the Prometheus Project, it is all detailed here in your papers I assure you. But nowhere can I find the message or the reason that has brought you here today.”
“As I told you,” Glushko said, “the Academician and I must see Comrade Polyarni at once. It is of the utmost importance.”
“I am sure it is or you would not be here. Such a rush, a few hours ago in Baikonur, a military plane, a car waiting for you at the airport. A rush indeed — but nowhere do I see a reason for this rush. What business brings you here?”
“You know about the… affair with the booster rocket?”
The official nodded gravely. “I do. A tragic accident. All of the country will mourn. Then you come in regard to this?”
“In a way, though not exactly. Look, comrade, I do not like to be misunderstood. Do you think that either I or Academician Moshkin, one of the leading astronomers in the nation, do you think that either of us came here to play silly games?”
“No! Of course not. But without stating your business it would be impossible for me to do anything to aid you. You realize my position, don't you?”
Glushko sighed and straightened up. “I certainly do. But, as I told you earlier, what I have to say is for the ears of the Premier alone and for no others. Therefore I wish to see your immediate superior and explain the same thing to him.”
“He is in conference, if you wait…”
“Eventually, we will see the Premier. He will want to hear what we have to say as soon as possible. Anyone who is responsible for delaying us will not be viewed with favor. Do you understand?”
The civil servant understood, only too well. He had heard this sort of talk, this kind of veiled threat in the past. If they meant what they said why then, yes, he would be in trouble.
But if they were bluffing and he aided them he would only be in for a reprimand. It was a simple decision. He pushed his chair back and stood.