Rocket Season

To Sarah

If we want to expand into the solar system, this tyranny [The Tyranny of the Rocket Equation] must be somehow deposed.

Don Petit – NASA Flight Engineer

PREFACE

Almost a hundred years ago science fiction authors would publish their stories in one of many science fiction magazines. Sometimes it was an actual novel which was serialized in the magazines first and later released as a novel, and sometimes it was a series of short stories and novellas with a common thematic development. These might be later put into novel form with some connective additions. This was called a fix-up novel. Examples of this would be Clifford Simak's novel City and Isaac Asimov's I Robot.

Rocket Season is a collection of the stories Rocket Summer, Rocket Fall, Rocket Winter, and Rocket Spring with some connective material and some new material. In this way it is similar to one of those fix-up novels.

Rocket Season is the story of Jack Williams and his quest to develop a new type of rocket based on Mach's Principle and not chemistry. The principle or effect was posited by 19th century physicist-philosopher Ernst Mach and can be stated as the inertia of an object is determined by all the distant masses in the universe. Though it might sound bizarre this idea was originally incorporated by Einstein into his General Theory of Relativity.

If true, the effect could lead under the right circumstances to the coupling of mass to the gravitational field of spacetime. Frame-dragging, a proven effect, is a manifestation of this coupling. In frame-dragging an accelerating mass (a rotating black hole for instance) drags spacetime with it. Spacetime, in turn, will drag, or accelerate, other masses in the vicinity, and so an accelerating mass could drag spacetime which in turn would accelerate other masses (such as a rocket body) with it.

This would allow a reactionless rocket engine (that is a rocket engine that does not expel mass to develop thrust), and that would revolutionize the access of space.

CHAPTER 1

Williams' Farm

Hell's Hollow Road

North Georgia, USA

Jack liked to sit just inside the edge of the forest and look out on the farm's pasture. Before baling, the grass was as high as a nine year old boy sitting cross-legged, and when the wind blew the waves of grass looked like an ocean to such a boy. Jack had never been to the ocean but he imagined it something like a windy day crossing the pasture.

The farm was nestled in a closed valley surrounded by low mountains, some people called the mountains, hills, and the valley, a hollow, but to Jack they were mountains and valley. He looked up at the peak called Muletop across the pasture and thought that anyone who thought it a hill instead of a mountain should try to climb it.

Deep in such thought he didn't hear his dad the first time he called but he heard him the second time.

Jack come on, said his dad, it's about time, the live-stream's starting.

Okay, yelled Jack as he got up and started running through the sea of grass towards his home. He was short but he was fast.

The two story white house was about fifty feet from the much larger red barn. Jack liked his house but he loved the barn. All the smells of hay and horses brought him comfort when he was upset. He had spent many hours sitting in the barn, usually in the hay loft, while reading and thinking and recovering from whatever insult he had suffered at the hands of his three sisters.

After all, life for a nine year old boy wasn't without its trials. Sometimes it was the adults who talked to him like he was a baby. Sometimes it was having to bear every decision his mom and dad might make without his consultation. Other times, it might be his sisters torturing him because he was the youngest. Still, he usually liked his family, even his sisters, and heading home after a day outside was always a joy. He reached the yard and his dad again spoke up.

We're going to miss it Jack, hurry.

Jack rushed by his father, around the side of the house and bounded onto the front porch. He was already camped in front of the wall-sized television when his dad entered the room.

All right, said his dad. everyone's here now, let's watch this carefully, we are about to see history made.

To add a bit more drama his dad dimmed the lights. The clarity of the picture caused the screen to look almost 3D.

Okay, said his dad, here we go.

On the screen the rocket could be seen flaring into action. His dad turned the sound up.

No honey, complained Jack's mother, that's too loud.

Got to get the full effect, said his dad.

After a few seconds, Jack said, What's taking so long?

Jack had watched enough rocket launches on Earth to know he should have heard the rocket's roar by now.

Sound travels slower there than here, said his dad.

Jack was just about to ask another question when the rumble started. It sounded a bit different to Jack, like it was deeper, more subdued. He would ask his dad about it later, right now he just wanted to watch and listen.

It was then that Jack noticed something unusual. The flames were skewing from the vertical. Was this another difference between the planets?

Jack watched and soon knew it wasn't a trick, something was wrong with the rocket. It began to veer from the vertical, he watched in awe and fear as the rocket turned upside down and continued to rotate. Something horrendous was happening. It was then that his dad turned off the video. Jack started to complain but held his peace when he saw his dad's eyes.

Okay everyone, his dad said, I think we all know something terrible has happened, I don't think we need to see the end. Why don't we watch something else?

His mom and his sisters agreed, but Jack needed to find out what had happened, what had gone wrong.

Going to bed early didn't mean going to sleep early. Under the covers, Jack unfolded his tablet's screen and searched the news. It wasn't good. The ship had slammed into the ground and exploded, presumably killing everyone aboard. The cause of the disaster wasn't obvious but the support team was analyzing the telemetry from the rocket for problems.

Jack read some other news stories but they all just repeated what he already knew. He folded the tablet and looked out his bedroom window at the sky. He could see stars but no planets, Jack knew the difference from many nights at his telescope.

So that's it, he thought, the first mission to Mars ends in disaster. I wonder what's next?

What was next was a long investigation by the government in order to prevent a future disaster. Jack was very interested but couldn't understand much except that the conclusion of the investigation led to a long report that he couldn't completely understand, including the report's recommendations, so he went to his dad.

What do they mean by this dad? asked Jack.

They are recommending that no more commercial flights to Mars be undertaken without government oversight, said his dad, whom Jack thought was the tallest and strongest man in the world, but in reality was a short, broad man with thinning and graying hair.

But what does that mean dad?

Well son, in my experience with bureaucracy such as the national government, it means that it will take a lot longer to do something.

We won't be going back to Mars, dad?

Maybe not any time soon, son.

Jack followed the story a bit longer. Within a few months he saw that the company that had sent the ill-fated flight had stopped discussing a follow-up mission. At first, the company had called it a solemn duty to send a second expedition, that it would be a tribute to the astronauts that had lost their lives. But no more, and as far as Jack knew, no one else was discussing sending a mission.

Jack thought about what had happened as he continued his experiments in building water bottle rockets.

He had started with bottle rockets two years before when his dad had taken him to see a rocket launch live. The experience was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. The noise was subdued because of the cancellation earphones he wore but the great sound waves of pressure that washed over his body were unbelievable. It was as if an invisible hand was pushing him wildly about.

Afterward, it was all he talked about until his dad bought him a bottle rocket set and he started launching the rockets in the field behind the house.

Now two years later Jack had built a launch facility and his own bottle rockets. His dad had built him a small, circular, cement pad out in the field and Jack had built his own launcher which he tried as much as possible to make look like the real thing. After many tries, and with his dad's help, he had what he considered an excellent launch facility.

Each launch was a test of a new design change. He had started by choosing the best bottle for the rocket's fuselage (called rocket body or load-bearing structure, as Jack had explained to his dad). Then he had moved on to the fins, trying different versions according to what he had read online.

It was at this time that his dad, seeing how interested Jack was, bought him a 3D printer capable of printing not only fins, but the rocket body. After he had acquired some understanding of the computer design program, Jack once again ran through different designs according to what he was learning online.

By the time he was ten, Jack had his birds, as he called them, flying to several hundred feet although he didn't know exactly how high until his dad bought him an onboard altimeter. Soon he had a small onboard flight computer which recorded and controlled the flight. Programming was easy with the help of his computer which converted Jack's ideas into the flight computer's language.

Shortly after his eleventh birthday he was redesigning the commercial electronics to something that was smaller, lighter, and more capable. It took six months, with the help of his computer, to get a new board back from the assembly house and programmed. Now, he could follow the rocket flight in real-time, as he had incorporated a transmitter without adding too much weight or increasing power requirements.

It was another beautiful summer day when Jack decided to test his latest rocket body. 3D printing had allowed him to create a body that could handle the increased pressure he was using, which should translate into a greater final altitude. Jack manually opened the air tank which began forcing air into the rocket, then he rushed back to watch his computer screen. Before the readout reached two-hundred fifty psi Jack heard a loud bang. Instinctively looking up he felt something slam his forehead, knocking him backward. By the time he struggled up, he felt a warm wetness on his face, he was bleeding. Jack looked at the spot where his rocket should have been and saw nothing but the concrete pad. The rocket body had exploded and destroyed itself as well as the launch facility. Then Jack heard his mom yelling.

His mom, shorter and thinner than his dad, ran up to her son and with some difficulty, calmly told him to come with her. She took him to the back porch and there she cleaned the blood off and threw his bloody t-shirt away. She bandaged the two inch cut in his forehead and took him inside. There she instructed him to sit and watch TV while she called his dad.

Jack started to protest but could sense that his mom wasn't in any mood to compromise, so he did as she said.

Calling dad at work, he thought. This isn't going to turn out well.

And it didn't. Jack had to agree to end his rocket testing and find some other hobby. Of course, for Jack there was no other hobby he was interested in, so instead, he spent a lot of time watching TV or listening to music. In fact he spent so much time indoors that his mom started to worry about his health. There was another conference between his mom, his dad, and Jack.

Jack, I know you loved bottle rockets but it's just too dangerous as a hobby. Can't you find something else to do? asked his mom.

Jack shrugged.

Nothing else interests me, mom.

Jack saw his mom look at his dad.

Then his dad spoke up, I have an idea, what if we make it safe for Jack to continue?

Jack perked up.

What do you mean Jose? said his mom.

I mean, we do like they do with the real rockets. One, we increase the distance from the launch pad to control. Two, we build a bunker to protect control.

You can do that honey? asked his mom.

Sure, Mildred. A sturdy wall of cement block should protect Jack from anything that could happen out on the pad. We'll even build a roof just to be safe and keep him out of the weather.

Well, if you are sure Jose.

I'm sure Mildred. Jack will be perfectly safe and we can even put up sensors to enable a no-go zone to protect others.

His mom briefly looked alarmed.

I hadn't thought of that, she said.

Yes, we will have to do that and it has to override the launch computer automatically, she added, with satisfaction that she had contributed something important.

Right, said his dad. We can do that.

And he did. It took a month in which the launch pad was moved further from the house and a control bunker was built. Then a detection system was installed which if tripped would prevent a launch. Jack was glad his dad was an engineer.

It was late summer now but Jack was able to continue his experimentation. Soon, he was getting an altitude of over one thousand feet from his birds and it was increasing with each flight.

Then he found out about a flight contest, the winner would receive a thousand dollars, another thousand dollar voucher from bottle rocket suppliers, and worldwide recognition on the organization's website. An entry had to be self-designed and home built, and the entrant had to be under the age of eighteen. The only problem was that the contest was being held in New Mexico.

It was time to talk to his parents.

After another discussion with his mom and dad, they agreed to foot the bill and take Jack to the contest. They would make it a family vacation.

He had another month before the contest, just enough time to refine his design.

Socorro, New Mexico

This was it, they were in the finals. Jack's design would fly against some of the best in the country. The range was out in the desert, quite a ways from town, there was nothing else around.

He and his dad had been up since 6 AM preparing the rocket and the electronics. Jack's home-made flight computer, altimeter, and transmitter were ready. He would leave the nose camera out to reduce the weight. The unique, small fins, servo activated, which would keep the rocket body better aligned to the vertical, were also ready. And after a quick breakfast, Jack was ready.

The desert air was cool and the sun was just rising, Jack would be the third out of eight finalists to launch. He watched quietly with his dad by his side as the first two rocketeers launched. They had an impressive performance but nothing that Jack's rocket couldn't beat.

It was Jack's turn.

He made one last physical inspection of his