Chapter 26
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Chapter 26
THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON DC, USA
EARTH
21st January 2026 – 0830 EST (1330 UTC)
Madeline winced as the hot coffee burnt her tongue and wondered idly whether the benefit of a caffeine kick outweighed the pain. Looking around the table in the briefing room and seeing some of the serious faces, she decided it probably did.
“Alright, let’s move on. Customs and Border Protection, how’s the increased security affected operations?”
Commissioner Martin Addams nodded his shaved head perfunctorily. “Operations are going extremely well actually Madam President. With the support of the local National Guard units we’ve actually progressed significantly as far as detection and detention of illegal immigrants. However,” – there had to be a however thought Maddy – “despite those detentions, none have so far shown to be of a terrorist nature.”
“So is that good news or bad?”
Addams appeared slightly downcast when he answered. “I’m afraid that’s a sort of ‘bottle half full or half empty’ question Ma’am. It either means we’re preventing terrorists from entering the CONUS, or they’re already here.”
Madeline nodded soberly. The events of a few weeks ago were ample testament to the threat posed by terrorists already in situ. With that in mind she turned her attention to Thomas Benfield, Director of the FBI.
“Thomas, are they here or are we stopping them?”
Benfield removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “I believe the answer to that question is both Madam President. Certainly CBP has put a crimp on both inward and outward illegals and I’d like to congratulate Martin on that. What we perhaps need to concentrate on now is stopping those legal entrants who we believe may be go-betweens.”
The room was quiet as the small group digested the implications of that statement.
“In other words,” finished Madeline, “you believe there are still cells in the country?”
“Without doubt Ma’am. We’re continuing to monitor several such groups who’ve led us to others and there have been numerous arrests. What does concern me is how deep we may be driving the remaining groups underground.”
“Is manpower an issue?”
“Right now Ma’am no. We’re busy but we’re still heads above water.”
“Thank you Thomas.” She turned finally to Lisa Turner, the Secretary of State. “Lisa, what’s happening outside our borders?”
Turner stood, dimming the lights and activating the large wall screen where a world map appeared.
“Firstly Madam President, Russia. Since the news about Premier Altukhov’s death we have had no formal contact from the Kremlin. While it’s obvious that the death of the Premier has left a power vacuum, it was a situation that wasn’t beyond prediction.”
Madeline had been concerned about the lack of communication but had put it down to the internal shifting and settlement of power.
“Does this pose a concern?”
Turner shook her head. “I believe not Ma’am. While there are certainly competing elements for the Premiership, they are all seasoned politicians and diplomats with the exception of First Deputy Defense Minister and Chief of General Staff General Anatoly Kosachev. He’s career military and somebody we need to watch.”
That didn’t sound promising to Madeline. She already knew several of the logical successors to Altukhov, and Kosachev hadn’t been one of them.
“Is he likely to make a play?”
“If you’re asking whether a military coup is likely Ma’am, again I’d say no. We’ve liaised with other agencies on this and there have been no outward signs that one would expect in such a situation. I’m afraid we’ll have to await the opening of communications again to be certain though.”
At Madeline’s nod, she changed the map to show the Middle East. “Israel continues to remain on alert until the safe launch of Tolou from Iran. As we heard earlier, the launch is expected late tomorrow. NRO reports that conventional launch activities are taking place at Semnan in respect to a standard satellite launch.”
“And no sign of any other activity that might indicate a possible missile launch?” Madeline asked the question knowing full well that if there had been, she would already have known about it.
“Nothing at all Ma’am.”
The final screen that appeared showed the whole of Asia with much of it now coloured red indicating the Eastern Coalition of Nations. China, the dominant partner, was surrounded by Brunei, Burma, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, and Vietnam.
“The Eastern Coalition of Nations seems to be settling into business as usual. As you are probably all aware the ECoN was formed, with the exception of China, by signatories to ASEAN. They have confirmed that their mandate is to continue as a steadying influence as far as security and economic stability is concerned.” Turner pointed to the small island of Taiwan. “Taiwan however is facing isolation in the region and Japan is also concerned about the combined economic and military power that the ECoN could now wield.” She passed Madeline a data slate. “Both leaders have requested meetings during your trip to Europe Ma’am.”
Madeline realised that her private conversation with Lee Juan was long overdue and decided that following the conclusion of the brief, she would dedicate time to it. Despite the withdrawal of forces from many regions, she could understand the nervousness of both Japan and Taiwan.
“Everything else is in the daily brief sheets Ma’am.”
“Thank you Lisa.” Madeline stood, indicating the end of the brief. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re far from out of the woods yet. It’s only weeks since this country suffered the most devastating attack in its history and while I realise I’m preaching to the converted, let’s not slacken our pace. We need to rebuild this nation’s trust in their government just as surely as we need to rebuild those areas devastated by the attacks. That said,” she smiled, “I’m hoping we may have turned the corner.”
As she left the room to return to her study, she fervently hoped that it was true.
JOHNSON SPACE CENTRE
HOUSTON
TEXAS, USA
EARTH
21st January 2026 – 0900 CST (1500 UTC)
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I trust you’ve all settled in here at JSC?”
NASA Administrator, Abigail March, was once again atop the podium addressing the group of astronaut candidates and was pleased to hear a ripple of “yes ma’am”s circle the room.
“Glad to hear it. Now, today marks your official introduction to training. I know you’ve spent the majority of your time here filling forms and being medically abused but you’ll be glad to know that, for now at least, that’s over.”
A small cheer went up which didn’t surprise March at all.
“Before I proceed any further today, I’d like to introduce you to a small group of people who, one way or another will be an important part of your life here.” As she spoke, a group of six men and women wearing the standard blue NASA flight suits filed on to the stage behind her. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Commander Alan Cameron, Aimee Chambon, and Catherine Stanford.”
A round of applause erupted as the candidates recognised the first group of astronauts as being the crew of the Magellan. It had been their journey to the asteroid belt the previous year that had paved the way for the forthcoming Mars mission.
“And on this side, Lieutenant John Kelly, Rose Kumagawa and Andrei Novakovich.”
The applause continued although perhaps only half of the candidates recognised these three as the crew of the Mars mission itself.
As the applause subsided and the candidates retook their seats, March indicated that Cameron should take the podium.
He was every inch the astronaut poster candidate. Tall, physically trim with a buzz cut that would make any marine smile. The only mar to the perfect image was the scar that ran down his left cheek, the mark of an accident that had almost killed him on his mission.
“It’s difficult to believe,” he began, “that my time here began almost fifteen years ago. It remains however a time that is fixed in my memory for many reasons. First and foremost is the training that you will receive. Trust me when I tell you that there will be times during your first two years when you question the validity of some of the tasks and exercises you will be expected to perform. I know I did.”
He raised his hand to his face to touch the scar.
“Without that training and adherence to procedure, this scar would have been the least of my worries. It was thanks to the ingrained training we received that Aimee managed to not only patch the helmet breach I suffered, but recover me to the ship before my oxygen became depleted.”
His hand fell to rest once more on the podium as he scanned the group of hopefuls before him.
“There is no more unforgiving place than space and if that scares you, I’m glad. Out there, second chances are rare and your first mistake could end up being your last unless you are fully prepared. The good news is that nowhere else in the world is that preparation as thorough as it is at JSC.”
Stepping from behind the podium to approach the edge of the stage, his voice became lighter.
“The other reason you will remember JSC is the friends around you. I know you’re all military so you’ll understand the camaraderie that binds units together. Double that and you’ll get some idea of the bonds you will form here. The reward is simply to be out there because trust me, once you’ve experienced it you’ll become a space junkie.” He chuckled and waved to the six other astronauts on the stage. “Not one of us can adequately describe the feeling you experience on your first launch or your very first EVA because it’s indescribable, even for the experienced.”
Cameron’s eyes sparkled as he concluded his speech. “The Ares crew won’t be spending as much time with you as the Magellan crew as they have their own training to complete, but we are here as your mentors. If you have questions, doubts, or difficulties we’ll be here to help. Only you, though, can make it happen.”
As he stepped back to give the floor to March once more, the candidates were once again on their feet, enthused and slightly in awe of the space veteran.
“Thank you Alan.” March smiled at her long time friend before returning her attention to the candidates. “Now, as you’ll have noticed your complement has reached its capacity with the arrival of the RLV pilots this morning. If you’d like to introduce yourselves?”
Three people stood at the rear of the room, one man and two women. As the sudden and somewhat unexpected centre of attention, they seemed slightly nervous until the first woman spoke up.
In a firm and barely accented voice she said, “I am Colonel Valentina Kornukov of the Russian Federation Air Force.” Tall with long dark hair wound up in a plait, her eyes were a piercing, glacial blue.
The second woman then stepped forward. Petite, with a snub nose and a blonde bob that Mitch just knew would make her a target for Tom Marker, she introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Squadron Leader Sarah Halley, Royal Air Force.”
Finally the man stepped up to the mark. Square jawed, tanned and with the crinkles on his face that suggested he laughed often and loud, he said “I’m not the best looking of the pilots but I’m Major Thomas Trip, United States Air Force.”
A few chuckles followed the statement along with a round of welcoming applause from the group.
“All three pilots have extensive hours on heavy military transports and during the training here, they’ll be backed up by three candidates who will be selected within the next month or so.”
March reached for a remote control on the podium and as the lights dimmed, the NASA logo appeared on the screen.
“Now as you’re all aware, your mission profile falls squarely under United Nations mandate and as such is not subject to our training profile. However, all space operations are, so getting to and from the space station and time spent aboard it are all NASA controlled activities. So how exactly do we train you?”
The screen changed to show what at first sight appeared to be a large swimming pool.
“It’s fairly obvious that the work you’ll be undertaking in space requires a completely new set of disciplines and so we have several simulation facilities on campus. For instance, this is the Neutral Buoyancy Laboratory, or NBL which we use to simulate weightlessness on Earth. The NBL is housed within the Sonny Carter Training Facility and, at 61 metres long and 12 metres deep, it holds 23.5 million litres of water. Within this pool, you’ll train for spacewalks or EVAs, spending approximately 10 hours under water for every hour you’ll eventually spend walking in space.”
The screen dissolved to another image, this time of what appeared to be a wingless version of Swift.
“This is the Space Vehicle Mock-up Facility or SVMF. It consists of components that prepare astronauts for both RLV and station operations. The Full Fuselage Trainer is a full-scale mock-up of the Swift orbiter without the wings. The Crew Compartment Trainer includes full-sized mock-ups of a Swift flight deck and a mid-deck, complete with high-fidelity components, such as panels, seats and lights. A second CCT, which can be rotated into seven unique positions, is used to simulate specific flight and contingency attitudes.”
The next image displayed several interconnected modules.
“Also here, we have the Space Station Mock-up and Training Facility which again is a full-scale replica but this time of the International Space Station, providing as much realism as possible to match conditions that will be experienced up on orbit.”
“This next one’s a fun one if you like theme park rides,” she grinned. “The Jake Garn Training Facility at JSC prepares you for key RLV operations. A motion-based trainer simulates the vibrations, noise and views that you will experience during Swift launch and landing, while a fixed-base simulator is used for rendezvous and payload operations training. Garn also houses a functional space station simulator, which familiarizes mission specialists with the on-orbit laboratory systems of the International Space Station.”
The final image was one of what appeared to be an android but was in fact an astronaut in VR equipment.
“And finally, for all you game-heads, the Virtual Reality Laboratory. All astronaut candidates preparing for spacewalks or robotic arm operations use the simulation equipment in the VR Laboratory at Marshall Space Flight Centre in Huntsville, Alabama, to hone their skills. Basically, it presents a simulated microgravity environment generated by powerful computers. You’ll be wearing special gloves, video display helmet, chest pack and controller to enable you to learn how to orient yourselves in outer space, where up and down are indistinguishable and where even minor tweaks with a thruster can send you spinning off into space. If that happens, its end game.”
As the lights came back up, March strode to the front of the stage once more.
“If you are a pilot, you will train in NASA's T-55 Kite supersonic aircraft and Gulfstream G650 RLV training aircraft which is designed to duplicate the Swift's approach profile and handling qualities and it’s very close to the real thing. You’ll fly at least 15 hours each month which eventually equates to more than 1,000 approaches. This is crucial, because the runway approach of a Swift is nearly seven times steeper than that of a commercial airliner and believe me it’s a lot faster. Mission specialists, you’re not left out. You’ll get to fly 4 hours each month.” She studied each face intently. “Anybody want to drop out yet?”
As she’d expected, not a single person moved.
“One final word from me before we take you on the grand tour and it’s to repeat what Commander Cameron said earlier. If anybody, for any reason, is facing a problem that they feel unable to discuss with their team mates then my door is open. If the training genuinely becomes too much for you, then there’s no shame in admitting it.”
The small nods she received in reply were all that she required.
“In that case ladies and gentlemen, we have time for a coffee break before we start turning you into astronauts.”
Mitch blew out a low whistle and turned to Marker sat beside him.
“Think we’re ready for this?”
Marker grinned laconically. “Are you kidding?” He stood and looked around at the AsCans who were now milling around the refreshment area. “Did you see where that pretty blonde pilot went?”
Mitch shook his head in resignation.
