Blue Gemini by Jenne Mike

Author:Jenne, Mike [Jenne, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Yucca Publishing
Published: 2015-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

24

COPING WITH ADVERSITY

Simulator Facility, Aerospace Support Project

4:02 p.m., Thursday, October 24, 1968

Confined in the Box since yesterday afternoon, Ourecky and Carson were in the final hour of twenty-four hour full-up mission simulation. In what had become almost a ritual for the last hour, they woke up from a twenty-minute nap, which replicated a “loiter” state in which the Gemini-I was powered down and adrift until an appropriate reentry window was available.

In this scenario, now that they had successfully restored the spacecraft to full operational power, they would receive final instructions for reentry, simulate the descent in the procedures trainer, and then immediately transition from the Box over to the Paraglider Landing Simulator to simulate an approach and touchdown at a remote field.

“Okay, Scott, we’re coming into our next comms window,” said Carson. “Can you handle it, or do you want me to cover it?”

Ourecky was so exhausted that he could barely hold his eyes open. He glanced up at the clock; in just a few minutes, they would talk with an AMC—Airborne Mission Controller—aboard a notional EC-135E ARIA aircraft. The ARIA—Advanced Range Instrumentation Aircraft—was a strange-looking jet transport commonly known as a “Droop Snoot” or “Snoopy Nose” for the bulbous antenna housing that protruded from its nose.

During actual missions, a small fleet of the ARIA aircraft would shadow the spacecraft as it orbited the earth, flying 2000-mile long tracks that would parallel their orbital path at critical intervals. The AMCs would act as an extension of the Mission Control Facility at Wright-Patterson, relaying instructions to the crew in orbit. In this simulation, the “AMC,” played by Ed Russo, was sitting at a desk less than fifty feet away from the simulator.

“No. I’ll do it, Drew. It’s my job.” Ourecky twisted to his left, reached over his shoulder, and found a book-sized control panel that was cabled to a larger cryptographic device mounted in the equipment bay directly behind his seat. The equipment was similar to the voice scrambling equipment currently carried aboard US combat aircraft flying in Southeast Asia.

Fighting to remain conscious, he yawned and squirmed in his seat. His back ached like he had been manhandling a jackhammer for the past twenty-three hours. He flipped the power switch on the control panel. “Crypto power is on. Power light is green.”

“Confirm crypto power is on,” verified Carson, looking over to make sure that the switch was thrown and the power light was green. “Scott, give me a read back on the crypto variable.”

“Crypto variable is Seven-Two-Six-Three-Six . . . uh, wait, Drew . . . I think that last number is a Zero,” said Ourecky, squinting to read the small display in the poor light between the seats.

Carson consulted an index card that referenced the cryptographic variables for the different contact periods. The five-digit variable controlled the scrambling of their voices as they transmitted on the radio; in order for their voices to be properly de-scrambled at the receiving end, the numbers had to match on both machines. “No, Scott, that’s not it.

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