"Robert Tine - The Astronaut's Wife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tine Robert)

as they went over the air between Mission Control and the shut-de itself.
Jillian stood at the open French windows of her house. Far on the horizon, thrusting up into
the blue of a Florida morning sky like a skyscraper, was the shuttle and the ugly steel fretwork of
the attendant gantry. She stared out through the humid air, not quite able to believe that her
beloved husband was strapped into a seat atop that strange, rather alien contraption.
The countdown to liftoff had started and was well along. Jillian could imagine the voice. тАЬT-
minus 14, 13, 12, 11...тАЭ
Suddenly Jillian felt a chill and she wrapped her arms around herself. She trembled slightly.
тАЬTen, ignition on. T-minus 9, 8, 7...тАЭ
From far off came the sound of a low rumbling. тАЬSix... Engine start...тАЭ The rumbling grew in
intensity as the sound waves moved across the flat landscape.
тАЬFour, 3, 2, 1. Zero and liftoff...тАЩтАЩ
The window in front of Jillian vibrated slightly as the sound ricocheted off the thin panes. She
reached and touched the trembling glass, as if connecting herself to the sound connected her to
the
craft quivering on the horizon. It was as if the shuttle was anxious to be gone, desperate to shake
off the bounds of tiresome gravity.
Spencer spoke for the first time. тАЬMission Control, this is Victory. We have left the pad...тАЭ It
was a remarkably prosaic way of saying that tons of volatile fuel were burning up, pushing
another huge hunk of metal into the sky.
тАЬRoger that, Victory,тАЭ Mission Control responded. тАЬYou are go for throttle up...
тАЬMission Control,тАЭ Spencer answered, тАЬwe have throttle up. It is a fine day for flying,
Houston...тАЭ
 Jillian watched as the shuttle emerged from the vast blizzard of smoke, its snub nose pointed
straight toward the sky. No matter how many times Jillian had seen a launch, this great eruption
of smoke and steel, she always felt that the module rose out of the dramatic upheaval slowly and
tentatively, as if straining to make it into the sky like a weak fledgling new from the nest. It
seemed to move so slowly that she half expected the entire contraption to fall over, sloping to
one side like a tottering drunk, unable to stand the forces of staying upright for another second.
She did not know she was holding her breath, but she was.
Two minutes into the flight, the boosters were used up and separated from the craft. Whle they
appeared to float gracefully away from the main body of the vessel, the separation was actually a
gut-wrenching yank that no matter how many times Spencer felt it, it seemed as if the whole ship
was
being ripped apart. You never got used it.
тАЬMission Control, we are standing by for SRB separation,тАЭ said Spencer, bracing himself for
what came next.
Even worse than that first separation, though, was the next phase of the flight which came a
mere six minutes later. After about eight minutes of flight the shuttle was shaken by a terrifying
explosion, and the huge external tank separated from the main body of the vessel.
тАЬSeparation confirmed,тАЭ said Spencer. The trim of the vessel changed dramatically. It seemed
to have been shot out of a sling, picking up speed at a dramatic rate as it lost weight. тАЬHouston,
we are at eighteen thousand knots and accelerating.тАЭ
The fire was blinding. The roaring of the engines deafening. The sky had changed in color,
from dark blue, then pale, then darkness. Houston came up:
тАЬYou are go for main engine shut-off.тАЭ
Abruptly the overwhelming roar of the engines vanished and there was no sound. No sound at
all. The silence was so complete and so sudden you could almost feel it.
The silence was pierced for a moment or two as Alex Streck fired short burns from the
shuttleтАЩs pair of maneuvering engines. Those small blasts pushed the craft over the momentous