Chow briefly paused to rethink whether or not he'd put away the teacup and newspaper from last night's "calming session." He was sure that he had. With that, he continued up the stairs and into the shower.

"Standing room only?" The conference room was crowded when Chow arrived. "And I'm here two hours before separation," he muttered to himself. Two large monitors hung from one wall of the room while a dozen or so computers lined the conference table, each showing something different on its screen. Seating was not ad hoc. Even here, in a secondary conference room, one could not simply pop in to observe. Each person in the room was supposed to be in the room, and that included Anthony Chow.

As he entered, he looked around to take a mental note of who else was there. He didn't like being surprised.

Today Chow would be an observer. With a doctorate in biophysics and a medical degree, there wasn't really much for him to do on a test flight with no humans aboard. Engineers would be monitoring the detailed information from the systems and subsystems of the Altair-power, propulsion, communications, and navigation. Unless there were questions about human health or relating to the planned crew health experiments that they were to undertake during their upcoming manned flight, Chow would have the pleasure of watching history from the inside with nothing to do.

He stood there and psychologically fed on the energy of the people in the room. Given that level of energy and sense of purpose, one would think that this modest conference room holding almost four dozen people, was actually mission control rather that simply a room down the hall from it.

"Tony! Come here a minute, would ya?"

Chow recognized the voice as that of Helen Menendez, the other mission specialist who would be going to the Moon with him as part of Commander Stetson's crew. He respected Helen and trusted her implicitly, but he couldn't say he really "liked" her. At times she could be downright antisocial. But she was good, very good, at what she did. Not only was she near the top of her field, geology, but she was cross-trained in all things mechanical. If a moving part was on the Altair, you could bet Helen knew where it was and all about how it worked.

Chow rose from his not-yet-warm seat and moved down the table to lean over Menendez's shoulder as she stared intently at the computer monitor in front of her.

"Tony, are you as excited as I am? What's it going to be like? Leaving the Orion and all of us going to the surface in the Altair? We've been training for years, but seeing it happen on the screen in front of me with no crew seems kind of creepy."

"Hmm." Chow thought about it for a moment and rubbed his fingers through his hair. "Helen, I honestly don't know. It doesn't strike me as creepy. It just seems, well, wrong. Empty. People are meant to be there. What's the point if it doesn't happen with people?"

She said, "Wrong. Yeah, that's it. Wrong."

"Uh-huh." He hesitated. "Is that all you wanted?" Having all-work-and-no-play Helen Menendez call him over for what amounted to idle chitchat at a moment like this was simply not normal.

"No, not really. I'm just excited. That's all." That and the fact that her blunt approach to just about everything at work and outside of it had alienated a sizable fraction of the people in the room. "I just thought you, of all people, might be able to understand. Never mind."

With that, Menendez reverted back to the business at hand. And that no longer included off-topic conversation with Anthony Chow. He immediately regretted his reaction to her overture.

Chow returned to his seat and reviewed the mission-summary reports from the previous thirty-six hours. With only a few minor exceptions, all had gone according to plan and all systems were working nearly flawlessly. Only a few hours previously, the Altair lander had used its engines to accomplish the Lunar Orbit Insertion (LOI) burn, slowing the vehicle down so that it could be captured into orbit around the Moon. Depleting about forty percent of the fuel in its tanks, the Altair was now poised to burn the remainder in its descent to the surface.

Having separated from the Orion a few hours previously, the Altair was about to perform a totally automated descent and landing on the surface of the Moon. The more Chow thought about it, the more he regretted his response to Menendez.

She is right to be excited, he thought to himself as he felt his own heart rate increase. he thought to himself as he felt his own heart rate increase. We should be there. We should be there.

Chow looked up at the monitors in the front of the room. The one on the right showed various camera views from the Altair. One was toward deep s.p.a.ce, with what appeared to be the Orion as a point of light in the distance, barely resolvable as more than a point in the sky. The one to the left showed the interior of the lander. Finally, the bottom portion of the screen showed the gray and brown landscape of the surface of the Moon moving rapidly beneath it.

It was this view that caused Chow to relive the most vivid portions of his recurring nightmare. He lost touch with what was happening around him in the crowded conference room and remembered how it played out in his dream....

It was always the same. He was not with his crewmates and colleagues on the surface of the Moon. Instead, he was alone. He was standing in the crew cabin of the Altair, looking across the desolate lunar surface and feeling afraid. Afraid because he'd just learned that the ascent engine that was supposed to loft the top portion of the Altair, called the Lunar Ascent Vehicle, was not functioning. The ascent vehicle was supposed to carry the crew back into s.p.a.ce for a rendezvous with the Orion and the trip home. But, at least in his dream, the engines did not light. He was trapped. Alone.

In the dream he could hear the voice of his wife telling him that she loved him and would miss him. He recalled hearing the voices of his friends and family tell him similar things as he frantically sought a way out of being trapped on the lunar surface to die. And the people who spoke to him on the radio included his now-dead parents, both of whom told him how much they loved him and what a hero he would be. In the dream he wept, and, in many cases, he awoke from the recurring dream with tears running down his face.

Alone. Trapped. Facing death. No way out.

No way out. Nowhere to run except out the airlock and across the barren and very dead lunar surface.

It was a nightmare he didn't dare to tell anybody other than his wife. And he didn't tell her about most of them. There was no need to give a shrink any reason to ground him from the mission.

He was sure he was having just a private moment of inward reflection, but when he snapped out of his stupor for a moment he was positive that everyone in the room had noticed his lapse. As he looked around, however, he discovered that no one was paying him any particular attention. They were either focused on their individual data streams or engaged in conversation with others nearby.

"Whew," he sighed. Relieved, he resumed scanning the status reports. To himself, he asked, Am I ready for this? Do I need to see a counselor? Will the dream ever go away? Am I ready for this? Do I need to see a counselor? Will the dream ever go away? Another part of himself answered sinlengly, Another part of himself answered sinlengly, Suck it up, wussy Suck it up, wussy. Give up a trip to the Moon? What, am I nuts?! Give up a trip to the Moon? What, am I nuts?!

Thirty minutes later, the command was given and the Altair's four liquid-hydrogen and oxygen engines fired for the second time, slowing the twenty-two-ton lander and causing it to move closer to the lunar surface. The onboard radar and extensive lunar-terrain maps were correlated and cross-checked as the lander began its descent.

The landing site for this practice run was to be near the lunar south pole, though not nearly as close to the Aitkin Basin as was thought to be the leading candidate for the next flight-the one with people aboard-the one that would be his.

The descent to the surface would take only twelve minutes, and to those in mission control and in all the conference rooms throughout NASA it would seem like hours. Since 2004, tens of thousands of engineers had been working for this moment, and most were now glued to their televisions and computer monitors, holding their collective breath.

"Landing in three minutes," came the voice from mission control. All the chatter in the conference room now died down to nothing-all would be listening for the proverbial pin to drop.

"Landing in two minutes." Still no one in the room with Chow spoke.

"Landing in sixty seconds."

With that, Chow averted his eyes from the big-screen monitors at the front of the room and scanned the faces of those in the room with him. He had always been more interested in human emotions than machines. Though he'd always been fascinated by all things s.p.a.ce, he'd never considered the traditional engineering fields. They were all about the toys-he wanted to understand the people that went to s.p.a.ce. He was eager to experience the Moon and not worry so much about how he was to get there.

Menendez's eyes were fixed on her own screen, and she seemed totally oblivious to the images coming back from near the lunar surface being returned by the Altair's imaging system.

Though many others in the room were similarly transfixed by the raw data, most had now placed their attention squarely on the monitors as the lunar surface loomed closer and closer, yet a quarter million miles away.

"Ten seconds, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one....We have touchdown!"

The room remained silent for another minute as all who had held their breath released it and erupted in smiles. Spontaneous applause broke out and then almost everyone in the room stood up so that they could clap even louder.

"Alright!" Chow heard one of his colleagues a few chairs to his right proclaim. "America's back on the Moon. No more boring robotic landers and ridiculous rovers. By G.o.d, we're going to put boots in that dirt!"

Chow smiled and nodded in agreement but was lost in his own thoughts at the moment-his boot steps would be among the first ones back there. His feet would be on the Moon sometime within the next year. The bad dream didn't even cross his mind....

Chapter 6.

"Paul, come in." Gary Childers sat back and propped his feet up on his desk. The Bluetooth earbud on his left ear was blinking. Gary touched the side of the apparatus and motioned for him to wait a second and to have a seat. Paul Gesling looked around the office and saw the video-teleconference monitor was on. The familiar red hair, horn-rimmed gla.s.ses, and ever-cheerful face of Caroline O'Conner was smiling back at him from the other side of the digital screen. He smiled and waved back.

"Hi, Paul. Looking forward to seeing you two out here tomorrow," she said.

"Right. I'm taking my trainer out this afternoon and should fly in sometime tonight." Paul sat down and angled his chair where he could see both Gary and Caroline. Caroline was the media-relations liaison, public-relations expert, and general all-around marketing guru for s.p.a.ce Excursions. "What's this about?"

"Not sure. He called this a bit ago, but my BlackBerry doesn't show a subject for the meeting." She shrugged.

"Okay. I guess we wait." Paul turned and watched Childers, who was rocking back and forth in his chair and talking a mile a minute about buying something short. Paul guessed there was a broker on the other end. Finally, Childers tapped his earbud and hung up the phone.

"Paul, glad I caught you before you left for the airport." Paul grunted and nodded. "Caroline, is everything set up for the press conference tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir. No hitches as far as I can tell."

"Very good. We need to talk about our demeanor tomorrow. Not sure if you two have had time to watch, but NASA just did the automated landing on the lunar surface." Gary looked over at Paul and then at Caroline. Paul guessed it was to judge his reaction. As far as Paul was concerned, he didn't really care. If he had sixteen billion dollars a year, he was certain that he could land a pickup truck, a marching band, a full-fledged circus, and a swimming pool equipped with synchronized swimmers right in the middle of the Sea of Tranquility. He wasn't that impressed. Apparently, his expression showed it.

"That right there, Paul. That expression! You can't make that face when NASA and the Moon missions are brought up." Childers didn't frown at him, but he didn't smile, either.

"I understand what this is about," Caroline said. "We've talked about this, Paul. No matter how you feel about NASA and how they are performing their mission, we must show unified and enthusiastic support for it. We cannot afford to look like naysayers, pessimists, or anti-s.p.a.ce in any way. It will hurt us and everything we've worked for."

"What? I wouldn't say anything."

"Paul, just stop. We're not accosting you for your opinion." Gary held up his hand and started in. "h.e.l.l, I agree with you. The best success NASA has had since Apollo has been unmanned. Oh, sure, the shuttles were successful, at flying up and down and round and round in low Earth orbit. The public doesn't really care, or we'd still have shuttles. And all these stupid little robotic controlled rovers rolling around on Mars? Give me a break."

"Gary," Caroline said, "The Pathfinder/Sojourner Pathfinder/Sojourner was a great public relations success for NASA. We studied it in graduate school. The thing had over a million hits a day to the mission Web site for the first couple of weeks." was a great public relations success for NASA. We studied it in graduate school. The thing had over a million hits a day to the mission Web site for the first couple of weeks."

"Nonsense." Gary laughed.

"It is a fact, Gary. You can look that up."

"Oh, h.e.l.l, I know it is a fact. The nonsense part is that the million hits meant a d.a.m.ned thing. How many kids are in the public-school system in the U.S.? Hmm? Do you know that statistic?" Gary tapped his knuckles on his desk when he asked.

"Uh, no, Gary. I don't." Caroline looked perplexed, as if she didn't see the relevance.

"Well, I do. I've studied this industry long and hard. The public doesn't give a d.a.m.n about the robot rovers. The so-called success was due to every science teacher in every public school having the fifty-four million students in the U.S. log on to the Web and write a homework essay about it. That is how the thing got so many hits. And clearly, less than one fiftieth of the students managed to do this. But the fact that the hits lasted a couple weeks probably accounts for a lot of them." Gary wrapped his knuckles against the desk with each point he made.

"I agree with Gary on this. And look where they chose to land!" Paul finally joined in. "They landed in the desert, for G.o.d's sake. You know what the official NASA mission description for the rover mission was? Rhetorical question. Don't answer. I can tick them off one at a time. Let's see...Number one, to prove that the development of faster, better, and cheaper s.p.a.cecraft is possible for a cost under one hundred and fifty million dollars. Number two, to show that it is possible to send a load of scientific instruments to another planet with a simple system and at one fifteenth the cost of the Viking missions. Those d.a.m.ned things were just under a billion dollars back in the seventies. And number three, to demonstrate NASA's commitment to low-cost planetary exploration by finis.h.i.+ng the mission with a total cost of under like three hundred million dollars or so, I forget the exact number. Oh, and that was including the launch vehicle and mission operations. Do you see anything exciting in that? Oh, and by the way, land in the desert so there will be no way that anything exciting will be found."

"This is good stuff, Paul. What else? What about the desert?" Gary asked. Caroline just shook her head at the both of them.

"Well, they landed in the desert, right? What do kids want to find in s.p.a.ce? What do old people want to find? What does everybody want to find? Aliens! Everybody wants to see aliens, dammit all to h.e.l.l. Don't lie and say you don't."

"Uh, Paul," Caroline muttered.

"Let him finish, Caroline."

"So, n.o.body really believes we'd find aliens on Mars, but what about life? We might find life. At least water, which everybody wants to believe is the key to finding life. Any kid with a good pair of binoculars can look at Mars on a clear night and tell you where you should land your s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p if you want to find water." Paul looked around to see if they understood him. The businessman and the marketing major didn't seem to get it. So he told them. "The polar ice ice cap. There is an ice cap on Mars. Oh, some of the planetary guys will tell you that it is all dry ice, but others will tell you that it can't be all dry ice. Some of it must be water. The odds are at least better that we'd find water at the edge of the ice cap, where it meets the desert, rather than in the middle of the bone-dry desert! The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter, the cap. There is an ice cap on Mars. Oh, some of the planetary guys will tell you that it is all dry ice, but others will tell you that it can't be all dry ice. Some of it must be water. The odds are at least better that we'd find water at the edge of the ice cap, where it meets the desert, rather than in the middle of the bone-dry desert! The Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter, the Phoenix Phoenix, the Opportunity Opportunity, all of them saw evidence of water. The MRO took pictures of what looked like lakes, the Opportunity Opportunity took pictures of puddles of water, and the took pictures of puddles of water, and the Phoenix Phoenix actually had water drops form on it and the camera sent back images of the droplets running down the structure on the thing. But how many people in the general public know that? NASA's PR people suck." actually had water drops form on it and the camera sent back images of the droplets running down the structure on the thing. But how many people in the general public know that? NASA's PR people suck."

"You about done, Paul?" Gary smiled at him. "If you need me to, I can get Burt Rutan on the phone, and you and he can go off on NASA and how they screwed us out of going to s.p.a.ce. It would be therapeutic for both of you."

"What?" Paul was surprised. "I thought you were on my side."

"Paul, I'm on the side of my company making a whole bunch of money," Gary said, not really tongue-in-cheek. "And if it means we need to cheerlead for NASA for a while, then that is the side I'm on. I don't really care if they have done what they should've done in the past. They are what they are, and they are the nation's s.p.a.ce agency. We are a s.p.a.ce company. Therefore, all things s.p.a.ce are good! Sis boom bah! Rah rah rah!" Gary waved his arms like he was wielding pom-poms.

"So, what are we saying?" Paul asked.

"Don't be so slow, Captain." Caroline smiled at him. "This is marketing, Paul. We have to market ourselves positively. Negative campaigns are never as successful as positive ones. All things s.p.a.ce are positive. They must be. From now on."

"You understand us, Paul? I let you vent for a while. That's good sometimes. But it must be done in private. Now, forget about all that and start studying the cool things, the unique things, the amazing things that NASA has done and is doing. They are are sending four people to the Moon within a year from now. That sending four people to the Moon within a year from now. That is is pretty d.a.m.ned amazing." pretty d.a.m.ned amazing."

"I see," Paul said, still not really seeing.

"Make sure you do, Paul," Caroline added. "Thinking about the cool things when you discuss NASA will change that expression on your face."

"You don't get it yet, Paul," Gary said. "Focus on the good NASA is doing overnight, and then you'll see. Have a safe flight out. I'll see the both of you tomorrow."

Chapter 7.

Paul Gesling was glad to be back in Nevada and away from his metaphorical near-death experience at the hands of CEO Gary Childers in Kentucky. The desert was familiar territory and one in which he felt perfectly at home. And he also preferred being on the "engineering" side of the ma.s.sive facility and not the "pa.s.senger training" side. He wasn't due to be there with the whiny rich brats, aka customers, until tomorrow.

Gesling, like most Americans, had watched the moderately publicized landing of NASA's Altair the day before with a mixture of amazement and disappointment. Amazement at what humans could accomplish when challenged and that we were finally on our way back to the Moon. Disappointment with the time it took for America to get back to where it was in 1972. Overall, the landing was flawless-except that there were no human astronauts on board. That in itself was a big enough flaw to keep people from tuning in. Americans, h.e.l.l, the rest of humanity, could not care less about another robot probe sending back video images of a place that it seemed n.o.body would ever set foot on. On the other hand, playing it up as the precursor to the very near manned flight did spark some optimism around the country. At least it boosted Paul's flagging enthusiasm about what he and his crew were soon to accomplish themselves. They were about to take five paying customers on nearly a weeklong fly-around of the Moon. It was to be their own Apollo 8 moment.

He was on his way to a press briefing. The NASA unmanned Moon landing had boosted interest in all things s.p.a.ce related, and s.p.a.ce Excursions was high on the list of many reporters for that "next day" follow-up story.

Gesling walked into the conference room that had been modified to accommodate the press and was immediately startled by the number of reporters there. He had expected maybe ten or twelve, most of them local, but the room was packed with what he quickly estimated to be fifty or more. There was standing room only in the drab tan-paneled makes.h.i.+ft press room. He recognized the big names like CNN, Fox News, and the networks, but there were others: China Daily, China Daily, the the London Times, London Times, and the and the Times of India, Times of India, to name a few. to name a few.

Already at the podium stood Gary Childers and Caroline O'Conner. Kentucky had come to Nevada. Although he wasn't late, Gesling was the last one to arrive, and he hoped it didn't leave a bad impression with Childers. He and Childers were on shaky enough ground as it was. Paul walked briskly to the front of the room and stood behind and to the left of his boss.

"So, as we can all see," Childers said, "our brilliant captain has arrived, and so I'll turn this over to him." Childers motioned at Gesling to step up to the podium.

"Ahem." Paul cleared his throat to buy some time so that he could remember what he had planned to say. "Good morning. Thanks for your interest in s.p.a.ce Excursions. I'm sure we all saw NASA put on quite a show yesterday by landing the Altair on the lunar surface." There were sounds of affirmation, some heads nodding, but there was little in the way of enthusiastic applause-typical reaction from a press corps only interested in drama to sell advertising time.

"We're very pleased with our nation's success and look forward to seeing the test flight successfully completed. That said, we're gonna beat 'em to the punch. And"-Paul paused for his own dramatic emphasis-"we're gonna do it with people. Real live human beings that are customers who paid to train and become astronauts." Despite what some bloggers had to say, Paul and Childers and the rest of the company did not view the government's s.p.a.ce endeavors as compet.i.tion, and he only wished them well. h.e.l.l, Childers had originally begged NASA to sell them a seat on their mission, but NASA had for all its existence resisted sponsors.h.i.+p and commercialization. The original s.p.a.ce tourists used Russian flights. The Russians understood capitalism, or at least commercialism, better than NASA. That was a funny bit of historical irony in Paul's mind. But in the end it came down to dollars. s.p.a.ce Excursions was in the business of making money and commercializing s.p.a.ce. It was the government's job to explore and do the costly endeavors of s.p.a.ce science. It was industry's job to follow and turn the public investment into profit through commercialization wherever it could.

"So, you're all here to learn about our company, s.p.a.ce Excursions, and we're here to answer whatever questions you may have.

"As Mr. Childers said, I am Captain Paul Gesling. I'm a former Navy pilot, and thanks to Mr. Childers I am proud to have been chosen to be the captain and pilot of Dreamscape Dreamscape for its maiden voyage to the Moon." for its maiden voyage to the Moon."

"There isn't a person I trust more with my s.h.i.+p than Paul Gesling," Childers interjected. From the press's point of view, these two appeared to be more like brothers separated at birth instead of a boss and his employee-especially not a boss and employee just past a rough patch in their working relations.h.i.+p.

Childers then launched into a short history of the company. He explained why he had founded it and how it was going to revolutionize and commercialize s.p.a.ce exploration. He took a couple of questions and then gave the floor back to Gesling. "And now, I'll let Paul explain a little bit about Dreamscape Dreamscape and how he's going to get our customers to the Moon and back again. Paul?" and how he's going to get our customers to the Moon and back again. Paul?"

Gesling stepped back to the podium and promptly picked up the telescoping aluminum pointer Caroline had made sure was ready for him. Though not technophobic, Gesling very much preferred the solid aluminum pointer to its jittery laser cousin. He never trusted that those darned things were eye-safe. He then picked up the remote control from beneath the podium and turned on the projection system.

Immediately behind him, the projection wall came to life with an image of the Dreamscape Dreamscape on a runway. The camera's view was from a helicopter that circled the parked s.p.a.ce plane to allow viewing from several angles. Paul tapped the screen, pointing out parts of the s.p.a.cecraft as he talked. on a runway. The camera's view was from a helicopter that circled the parked s.p.a.ce plane to allow viewing from several angles. Paul tapped the screen, pointing out parts of the s.p.a.cecraft as he talked.

"Dreamscape itself is the reusable-s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p part of a two-stage-to-orbit rocket. The first stage of the rocket is a supersonic combustion ramjet, or scramjet. Based on the technology work conducted by NASA through the early 2000s, s.p.a.ce Excursions picked up where NASA left off and perfected the technology. Lifting off from the Nevada s.p.a.ceport, test flights of the scramjet first stage reached upwards of twelve times the speed of sound, flying to successful landings at s.p.a.ce Excursions' alternate landing site in Australia in just under two hours. Instead of carrying both rocket fuel and oxidizer, as do most conventional chemical rockets, a scramjet scoops oxygen-hence the term itself is the reusable-s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p part of a two-stage-to-orbit rocket. The first stage of the rocket is a supersonic combustion ramjet, or scramjet. Based on the technology work conducted by NASA through the early 2000s, s.p.a.ce Excursions picked up where NASA left off and perfected the technology. Lifting off from the Nevada s.p.a.ceport, test flights of the scramjet first stage reached upwards of twelve times the speed of sound, flying to successful landings at s.p.a.ce Excursions' alternate landing site in Australia in just under two hours. Instead of carrying both rocket fuel and oxidizer, as do most conventional chemical rockets, a scramjet scoops oxygen-hence the term oxidizer oxidizer-from the atmosphere to mix with the propellant to make the rocket go. Without having to carry all that heavy oxidizer, the rocket is much lighter and very, very efficient."

The image behind him came to life with a video of the Dreamscape Dreamscape flying indescribably fast from one end of the frame to another. The video appeared to have been shot from a chase plane that was quickly left behind by the supersonic flying indescribably fast from one end of the frame to another. The video appeared to have been shot from a chase plane that was quickly left behind by the supersonic Dreamscape Dreamscape.

"Instead of having to be carried to a high alt.i.tude and using rockets to achieve high airspeeds before the scramjet begins operating, as was the limitation of the NASA design, s.p.a.ce Excursions found a way to throttle the engine at low airspeeds. Our design begins flight as a conventional jet aircraft, starting its journey from a dead stop in the Nevada desert. Once airborne and above twenty thousand feet, the scramjet fires and our ride to orbit begins."

Another video began to play at this point. Clearly an animation, the video showed the separation of the Dreamscape Dreamscape from its scramjet first stage and its ascent into s.p.a.ce. from its scramjet first stage and its ascent into s.p.a.ce.

"This is where the fun begins." Gesling was clearly in his element and enjoying every minute at the podium. "At an alt.i.tude of about twenty miles and a speed of Mach twelve twelve, the rocket engines on the Dreamscape Dreamscape will ignite, pulling the pa.s.senger-carrying rocket away from its scramjet first stage and into a trajectory that will take it to a three-hundred-mile low Earth orbit. That's just above the alt.i.tude of things like the International s.p.a.ce Station and low-flying satellites. Following in the footsteps of Virgin Galactic and doing it one better, we've already taken flights not only into s.p.a.ce, but also into orbit-a much harder task. Getting into s.p.a.ce is comparatively easy. Accelerating to the orbital velocity of seventeen thousand miles per hour is another task altogether. And will ignite, pulling the pa.s.senger-carrying rocket away from its scramjet first stage and into a trajectory that will take it to a three-hundred-mile low Earth orbit. That's just above the alt.i.tude of things like the International s.p.a.ce Station and low-flying satellites. Following in the footsteps of Virgin Galactic and doing it one better, we've already taken flights not only into s.p.a.ce, but also into orbit-a much harder task. Getting into s.p.a.ce is comparatively easy. Accelerating to the orbital velocity of seventeen thousand miles per hour is another task altogether. And Dreamscape Dreamscape's two stages accomplish this nicely."

The animation continued. Seemingly floating high above the Earth, the Dreamscape Dreamscape maneuvered close to a large cylinder that was also in Earth orbit. As Gesling resumed speaking, the two were moving close together. maneuvered close to a large cylinder that was also in Earth orbit. As Gesling resumed speaking, the two were moving close together.