We were offered a list of
current and near-future possibilities. Scary stuff, mostly military, mostly
nasty or worrisome. The only answers I had for those were, "See to it that
they’re ours." But I looked (naturally) for anything they’d left out.
1.
For the 46 years of the Cold
War we were obsessed with the threat of global thermonuclear war . . .
of the Bomb.
It isn’t as if other possibilities
have been ignored. We got atomic plants, and ridiculously accurate clocks.
There were Nerva and the atomic airplane, and though nothing ever flew,
these projects taught us things. But what did we miss?
Once upon a time there was
the X-plane
program.
Technique: build something
to test one idea. Build quick and dirty. The basic purpose: develop surprising
capabilities for aircraft. We (actually Macnamara) terminated that. Politicians
can’t plan disarmament if they don’t know what tomorrow’s weapons will
be.
The Cold War is over. What
should we be learning? What is someone else learning? There must be possibilities
we’ve missed or ignored in the thermonuclear domain.
These probably will not be
weapons. We wouldn’t have missed many possible weapons.
Look for a thermonuclear
surprise.
~
2.
Expect it to emerge from
places where most people don’t get old.
These will tend to be Third
World nations, of course, but rich ones. Don’t laugh; the Soviet
Union was an oversized Third World nation with a space program, if you
look at it that way. We could evolve others.
Long-lived people are too
careful. In this nation’s courtrooms, juries too often behave as if everyone
had a right to live forever; as if every accident, every personal or public
disaster, were somebody’s fault. Hell, we’re lucky somebody is still building
ladders. The United States will no longer do dangerous research, and nukes
are likely to provoke hysteria.
I offered the IDA a first-stage
rocket lifter as a possible nuclear surprise.
France might not shy from
such research. They’ve gone big with atomic plants; they’ve had practice
with radioactives; Madame Curie was theirs. They’re already in
the launching business.
Any Soviet country might
have access to KGB records. The KGB is likely to have acquired data from
the Nerva
thermonuclear rocket motor project, and the atomic airplane too. Though
nothing ever flew, the records would be a head start. And they had the
only
working space station for many years.
~
3.
Half my friends in the space
industry think we can get to orbit in one stage.
Half of those are sure of
it, but I think any of them would change their minds in the face of a good
argument or working multi-stage hardware. Mitchell
Clapp has always been persuasive with his succession of spaceplane
designs that refuel at high altitude. Kissler Aerospace got a certain distance
with two-stage designs. Some friends still say, "God loves the two-stage
rocket," when they speak of low Earth orbit.
There was a time when it
was known that the emphasis on a recoverable rocket should go with
the first stage. The first-stage lifter faces the least stress from winds
and reentry heat. It doesn’t have to make orbit, or ride the nose of another
rocket and survive the vibrations. It only has to go up and down. Build
it versatile so it can launch a variety of second stages; the first of
these would be throwaways.
A first stage also needs
greater thrust. Takeoff is the most dangerous time, and a second stage
mounted on top has to be under enough force to stay put against vibration.
Tradition says: launch at four gravities.
No problem. Just build a
big enough motor.
Then we built the shuttle
instead; but the logic still holds.
~
4.
Build a first-stage lifter,
and build it thermonuclear.
Build it like the Soviets
built the Soyuz.
They wheel it out horizontally, with the top stage (of four) unsupported.
They lift it to vertical on the field and launch in up to 60 mile-per-hour
winds. It’s that brutally strong. It would make a decent bridge.
Given the potential exhaust
velocity of a nuke motor, you don’t mind it being heavy. Build it strong.
I picture one big tank full of liquid hydrogen, one big motor, and one
flat side with fittings for anything you might want to launch.
With the second stage gone,
there would be only the empty tank and the motor. It’d come back to Earth
like a silvered Mylar birthday balloon weighted at one end: butt down all
the way. Land with the rocket working at low thrust, like Heinlein and
Flash Gordon always intended. Heinlein would have filled the tank with
water.
~
5.
Where will it come from?
France has the ambition,
the launch sites, and the familiarity with radioactive materials. Their
commercial launch concerns are partly supported by government funding.
Some of the Soviet offshoots
might have or might acquire the knowledge and the plutonium.
China might buy both from
any of them. China has wealth as well as poverty.
The OPEC countries might
buy the skills; they’ve got the Sahara as a launch pad; probably they already
have the plutonium; the ancient Muslim love of knowledge might resurge
even in Iraq or Iran. Oil pays for it all.
And even the United States
might not be entirely shut out.