Per Ardua Ad Astra
Chapter 14: Planning Personnel

Copyright© 2013 by normist

The next morning saw Susan and I taking the Shuttle to Washington. We did our high-level hop to avoid creating a sonic boom. Bob Mather was on the back lawn of the White house to greet us.

"We've got a problem for you to solve. Many of the scientists who attended your Conference have been on to us wanting to know when they can go into space?"

"Hold on! Let us get our breath back after our trip. How about a cup of coffee before we get down to business?"

"I'm sorry. Of course. Let's go to my office."

Once we were settled in his office with a mug of coffee in our hands, I asked Bob.

"Now, Bob, what is your problem?"

"It's these scientists. They seem to think that all they have to do to get a ride into deep space is to whistle as they would for a cab. They are all bending the President's ear. And he's starting to growl at me. What can we do?"

"First of all, let's make it clear that no civilians are going into space. To fly, they'll have to join up."

"That's going to cause an uproar with the older and more senior scientists. What do you suggest for them?"

"As I see it, we can organize the science people as a group within the Space Service, but not in the chain of command. They'll have their own command structure. I suggest that we organize them into two branches. Environmental scientists and life scientists each with their own commander. Give the senior scientist a rank of Lieutenant-Commander and his two group leaders a rank of Lieutenant. That way they won't be able to feel slighted by not being in the chain of command of the spacecraft."

"How about those who don't want to enlist? Those who are too old or too senior."

"We'll invite them to form an advisory body, to interpret and evaluate the data we gather. They can also suggest, but not command, what we do next."

"Yes, that seems like a good idea."

"Why don't you get the President's Science Adviser to help you evaluate the inquiries and applications?"

"I'll do that. Is there anything else you can think of?"

"Yes, I'd be grateful if would keep me in the loop so that I can vet them. One of the last things you want in deep space is to have incompatible personalities in close proximity."

"Right! I think the President is in today. I'll see if he's free." He picked up his phone and dialed. "Is he free? Tell him we've got the answer to one of his problems."

Bob quickly got an invitation to the Oval Office for us, and we went visiting.

"What's this Bob? I'm told you have the answer to all these queries about a free ride into space."

"Yes, or rather, Commodore Axon has."

"Good! Now, what do I tell them?"

"Tell them to apply to join the Space Service and put them on to Bob. He can send them an application form. That way they make themselves subject to Service discipline."

"And if they balk at enrolling?"

"Bill suggests putting them in a ground-based body that is only advisory in nature."

"That sounds like the answer. Make it so, Bob."

We left, returning to Bob's office.

"Now where," he asked, "do I get some Space Service application forms?"

"Get some from the Coastguard and the other services, then make up your own. If you like, you can send the result to me and I'll vet it."

"Thanks, I will. Have you got anything else?"

"I know it's a bit early, but who gives the go ahead to Lockheed Martin for building the spacecraft?"

"You do ... or rather you tell us to go ahead and we tell them."

"Right, Bob. Make it so.," I said with a grin.

With that sorted, we set out on the return journey to Holloman. When we got there, I decided to show my face in office before going to lunch, in case I had been missed. I should have gone straight to the mess. No sooner than Kate had told me that there was nothing that wouldn't wait until after lunch, then the door opened behind me.

The Seabees Major rushed in, saying "Commodore, can I have a word, Sir?"

"Yes, Chris. Come into my office," I said, and he followed me. "What can I do for you?"

"I've got a quick report, Sir, and a couple of questions."

 
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