Magnificent Endeavor

By V A Nelson

Whoever succeeds will have a dominant advantage in colonizing Mars and in producing military bases in deep space and on Earth’s moon. Although one nation had a head start, the other has recently developed new technologies that will help gain a competitive edge. A cataclysmic event will change the course of the story. This is the story of two great NASA scientists, Magnus Kolden and John Tellor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V A Nelson
• Release date: Jun 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310154065

V A Nelson

V. A. Nelson was born in Graceville, Minnesota. He graduated from Edina (Minnesota) High School in 1961. He earned his B.A. from the University of Minnesota in 1965 and his M.D. from the Medical College of Wisconsin in 1969. His wife, Debbie, and he were married during his senior year of medical school. They have three children and four grandchildren. He took further training at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center in San Jose, California (Stanford University), Queen’s Medical Center in Honolulu, Hawaii (University of Hawaii), McLaren Regional Medical Center in Flint, Michigan (Michigan State University), and at the U.S. Army Aero-medical Center in Ft. Rucker, Alabama.He served as a flight surgeon on army active duty from 1973-1975. In January of 1974 he proposed, to the army, an ejection system for helicopters using explosive bolts to release the rotor blades before timed upward crew ejection. The Russians now have it. In 1975, he entered private medical practice in Anoka, Minnesota. In 1978, he moved to Houston, Texas where he has been the Clinical Director of a University of Texas residency program, and the medical director of a hospital clinic.In May of 2004, he was assigned by the University of Texas Medical Branch to work in the Flight Analog Research Unit and in the Human Test Subject Facility at NASA’s Johnson Space Center. There, he supported work on countermeasures to the pathophysiologic effects of prolonged space-travel.In July of 2009, he contracted to work in the Soldier Readiness Center at Ft. Hood, Texas. He was present during the November fifth shooting and was one of the first responders to render medical care to the victims.

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Acknowledgements

Everett Anderson was one in a million! Not only was he a great teacher of high school English, but also was a mentor and friend to each student, without exception. He brought out the best in each student. He encouraged me and turned my life around. He was my friend until his passing away. I once told him that I would write a novel some day.

I could not have asked for better parents. My father served in the Army Air Corps during the first two years of my life. Following the end of the Second World War, my parents qualified for veterans housing on a block where all of the houses were built from the same floor plan. They worked hard and saved, but always put their children ahead of themselves. They were always there for me. I named one of the craters on the Martian moon, Phobos, after them in the novel.

I would like to express special appreciation to noted British author, Robert A.V. Jacobs, for his mentoring and for his editing and formatting of the manuscript and book cover. I would also like to express my appreciations to those who have helped me and given me encouragement. I appreciate Robert Baumer, Butler Eitel, Paul Horton, William Jepson, Curtis Ace Johnson, Mary Johnson, Stephen Lew, Bruce Nelson, Bryan Nelson, Cindy Nelson, and my loving wife, Debbie.

I also wish to thank Arthur C. Clarke, Michael Crichton, Clarence Kelly Johnson, Angela Lansbury, Curtis LeMay, Charles Lindbergh, James A. Michener, Carl Sagan, Rod Serling, Fran Striker, and Jules Verne for their unique gifts.

Thank you Compton’s Pictured Encyclopedia (1953 edition), Google, Google Earth, and Wikipedia.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Preface

Prolog

Book I: PROMOTING THE DREAM

Chapter One: The Flight.

Chapter Two: The Tornado.

Chapter Three: War Stories.

Chapter Four: Back To Houston.

Chapter Five: The Meeting.

Book II: PREPARATIONS AND TRIBULATIONS

Chapter Six: The Gestationarium.

Chapter Seven: An Old Friend.

Chapter Eight: The Incident.

Chapter Nine: The Start.

Chapter Ten: Trouble.

Book III: THE PROJECT TAKES FORM

Chapter Eleven: All Systems Go.

Chapter Twelve: The Secret Service Agent.

Chapter Thirteen: Lessons Learned.

Chapter Fourteen: A Windfall.

Chapter Fifteen: Just Deserts.

Book IV: DREAM FULFILMENT?

Chapter Sixteen: Making Progress.

Chapter Seventeen: Grand Opening.

Chapter Eighteen: The Monorail Ride.

Chapter Nineteen: The Hotel Station.

Chapter Twenty: Escape.

Book V: THE REVELATION

Chapter Twenty-One: The Volcano.

Chapter Twenty-Two: How Final?

Epilog: CONCLUSIONS.

ILLUSTRATIONS

Chapter 11: Tethers, Spacer Brackets

Chapter 11: Monorail Vehicle

Chapter 11: Schematic Diagram of Project

Chapter 11: Zero-G Station

Chapter 11: The Hotel Station

Chapter 13: Induralar

Chapter 14: Space Vehicle-Mars (Phobos) Base

Preface

Some of the engineering concepts introduced in this novel, are mine. Experts the fields of chemistry, meteorology, physics, or medicine, may not agree with some of these ideas. Hopefully, they will come up with some better alternatives.

The building of a space elevator has been in the minds of many for decades. Such a structure will greatly facilitate the transport of people and materials into orbit without the costly and inefficient use of rocket-powered vehicles. Many technical problems need to be solved before this can be possible. Not the least among these problems is to find a material of extreme tensile strength that is light in weight and can be constructed or extruded over distances longer than the circumference of the Earth. Induralar is that material. Magnetic levitation monorail vehicles are today’s technology and will be capable of extreme speeds in the thin upper atmosphere.

The first Mars mission discussed in chapter 14 incorporates propulsion by Variable-Specific-Impulse Magnetoplasma rockets. This is a technology presently under development that should provide a reasonable travel time to and from Mars. However, Mars missions will still take a considerable amount of time since one-way travel in each direction is only practical during a small time window when the planets are in close proximity to each other. The return trip will have to wait for the next planetary juxtaposition. Exposure to solar and cosmic radiation will be an extreme hazard in interplanetary travel. The Martian moon, Phobos, is the staging base for the reasons mentioned in the novel. It will be especially useful as a shield from cosmic radiation during the extended stay. Having participated in studies of microgravitational physiology at the Johnson Space Center and at the University of Texas Medical Branch, my personal view is that artificial gravity (continuous or intermittent centrifugation) will be the necessary countermeasure to the pathophysiologic effects of prolonged weightlessness.

Time will be the judge about the future use of vortex deflectors, hydroturbines, Induralar, gestationariums, sky cars, or Syntheglobin polymerosomes.

The misguided Abdul Nebi al-Mahmoudi perpetuates the violence he has learned from his father and uncle. His place in this novel is not intended to be a criticism of the Islamic faith but is intended to show the futility of terrorism, perpetrated in the name of religion, as a means to solve problems. History is replete with similar violence perpetrated in the name of Christianity or Judaism. I do not believe that one’s God, capable of being the creator of the universe, needs to be defended by (or condones) acts of violence.

Likewise, a distinction needs to be drawn between the industrious Chinese people and the oppressive Communist regime to which they are subject. Perhaps, someday they will enjoy a more democratic country.

Some foreign names sound like some English words. These similarities were used to create some humor on words, but were not intended to insult any language, country, or people.

This is a work of fiction. Certain famous real-life American persons were alluded to with respectful intent. Any similarity of other characters to real persons is coincidental. Some of this novel’s characters individually express their opinions. Some opinions may be those of the author while others may not be.

Enjoy the story.

Prolog

BEGINNINGS

And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the sons of men had built. And the Lord said, Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; and nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them.

Genesis 11

The old professor sat stoically behind his large, cluttered, mahogany desk examining the records of the graduate school candidate. The old bookcases, full of ancient as well as contemporary engineering books and journals of many colors, lined the walls to the ceiling of this office within the century-old engineering building. The four-foot wide windows behind the old professor displayed a view of the brick-walled adjacent edifice while providing dim lighting to the professor’s office.

Bushy white eyebrows and a large white mustache contrasted with the professor’s wrinkled and weathered tan face. Without the slightest head movement, the professor’s eyes occasionally looked up at the young candidate sitting stiffly erect in the chair. The eyes again looked down with a slight squint as they peered through the reading glasses hanging on the tip of the professor’s bulbous nose.

The professor again looked over his reading glasses at the candidate sitting across from him and stared for a few seconds. Young man, he hesitated briefly, your academic records, if not being remarkable, certainly meet our standards. If not, we would not be having this conversation. Our institution has a tradition of excellence and you know that admission to our graduate program is a highly competitive achievement. Professor Mallory has shared with me his favorable thoughts about your interview with him. I tend to agree that you are academically well qualified as well as making a good initial impression. We have many an excellent candidate. However, we are also concerned about his or her future career. How will his contributions reflect upon our institution? How will her character be judged? What are the motivations for choosing the engineering profession? Will he or she have a passion and love for engineering? Perhaps you will share with me your reasons for choosing engineering as your life passion?

The young man cleared his throat and said, Sir, it might be a long story.

I have all-day, young man. Take your time and convince me.

Well, ah, ... I would like to start by telling you about Magnus Kolden, a brilliant scientist whom I feel honored to have known all of my life. By knowing him, you will know my reasons.

We are all familiar with Dr. Kolden, interjected the professor. However, you are in a position to uniquely share with us a different perspective of this great man. Please proceed.

"Yes, well, I personally know of his tribulations and appreciate his courageous epic struggle to lead a team of scientists in the largest space-race endeavor in the history of mankind. His life’s story started before I was born but his destiny was ordained when an unusually cold January morning in nineteen eighty-six greeted the cheering crowd of spectators who had assembled at the Cape anticipating another spectacular space shuttle launch.

An era of fervent acquisition of knowledge, intense competition with the Soviet Union, and NASA efforts to perpetuate public support for the space program, had necessitated frequent shuttle launches. The race was on to send up crews for microgravitational experimentation and to provide for the transport of needed hardware into orbit. This was NASA’s twenty-fifth shuttle launch and the tenth trip for the Challenger. The successful launch of the Discovery was achieved a year ago, on the second coldest launch day in the history of shuttle launches, when the temperature was fifty-three degrees. This day, the coldest launch day, was much colder!

The Columbia had been launched only sixteen days previously from launch pad 39-A, and now, the space shuttle Challenger was ready as it sat in majestic grandeur on launch pad 39-B. Three inches of ice covered the surface of the launch pad and decorated its sides with foot-long icicles.

Following more than a week of delays, the Challenger was finally cleared for launch. The time was 11:35 a.m. EST. as friends and relatives of the crew, after enduring a two-hour further delay, waited the waning minutes of the countdown. Among the crowd of spectators, appearing oblivious to the frigid air, the excitement continued to escalate as the countdown passed the three-minute mark. Thick vapor was cascading down to the ground, dispersing around the launch pad as the service arm started to rotate away from the orbiter.

The tense final seconds of the countdown continued, ten… nine… eight… seven… The three hydrogen engines ignited in rapid succession! Six… five… four… three… two… one… A brilliant flash was seen as the two solid fuel booster rockets ignited their aluminum-powder containing fuel. A loud roar could be heard while this powerful giant began to slowly lift off of the pad and start the historic journey.

Many cameras followed the ascent of the orbiter as up, up, it climbed toward the heavens. As it approached twenty seconds of flight, it started a routine roll over onto its back. The upward ascent was maintained with ever-increasing velocity at an eastward angle of seventy-eight degrees. After a brief twenty-six seconds of flight, the main engines had to temporarily throttle down to sixty-five per cent power in order to avoid excessive structural stress while the brave crew traversed the zone of highest aerodynamic pressure. A strong jet-stream crosswind briefly buffeted the space vehicle at fifty-eight seconds into flight. Following the temporary throttle-down, the massive engines returned to full power upon entering into the thinner atmosphere at sixty-six seconds; this beautifully shining technological marvel, burning a thousand gallons of liquid fuel per second, continued its accelerating ascent and soared into eternity.

******

A cold winter’s night had deposited a few centimeters of freshly fallen snow glistening under the yellow streetlights in Lillehammer, Norway. The Norwegian sunrise is late during the winter season and its first beams were silhouetting the houses across the street. The pale gray sunlight formed a myriad of colors as it passed through the icicles streaming down from the overhang of the roof. The silence of this very cold morning was occasionally broken by the sound of a passing automobile. The date was January the twenty-ninth in the year 1986, the morning after the disastrous explosion of the United States Space Shuttle, Challenger. Many people in Europe and Africa were showing mixed reactions on this morning upon having just learned about the event.

Yesterday, the Kolden family celebrated Magnus’ seventh birthday. Many relatives stayed into the early hours of the morning, playing cards and drinking hot butter-rum in the warmth of the Kolden home, before enduring their homeward treks on a snowy evening.

Magnus was sitting quietly on his bedroom windowsill, staring out of the frost-framed window, at the freshly fallen snow. His attention was momentarily focused on the steam rising from the sewer cover. He marveled at the way it swirled as it climbed out of view. His inquisitive mind wondered why it spiraled in its ascent.

His temporary trance was interrupted when his mother exclaimed, Magnus, stop daydreaming! Hurry and take your bath or you will be late for school!

Fifteen minutes later, while finishing his bath, Magnus watched the water drain out of his bathtub. He saw the occasional bubble temporarily trapped in the drain. It looked like an eye staring back at him and winking from time to time. He imagined that a troll was looking up at him from under the bathtub while plotting to someday come out and get him.

He was intrigued by the vortex created as the last of the soapy water spun down through the drain. He wondered at the similarity to the rising steam he had earlier seen. He wondered as he finished drying off after the bath, Why do they spin rather than go straight up or down? After stepping out of the tub, he intently watched the shrinking wet designs that his feet had made on the tile floor.

His transfixed stare was interrupted when he heard some commotion in the living room where his mother sat down after just having switched on the television. Oh, my God! Oh no! cried out his mother. This cannot be!

Magnus, half-covered by a bath towel, ran into the room and saw the recording of the Challenger-7 explosion being re-run several times on their television. His mother was crying. He hesitantly asked, What happened?

The space shuttle with that wonderful teacher blew up! she exclaimed, as tears ran down her cheeks.

Magnus stood and stared while trying to comprehend what he was seeing on the television. After a moment of thought, he asked, Why did that happen?

I don’t know for sure, his mother replied while wiping her eyes. They say that the fuel exploded for some reason. Flying is very dangerous. I have never been in an airplane and never intend to be!

Why do they need fuel that explodes like that? Can’t they use something else that doesn’t explode?

It is the only thing that works to power the rocket engines enough to get things all of the way into outer space, I suppose.

Is there a better way to get up there?

Hrmph, I don’t know, frowned his mother.

Maybe they can hang a rope from a giant balloon or build a tall lift.

She impatiently replied, Perhaps, someday you might figure out a way if you study hard in school. You can accomplish anything you put to your mind. Now get dressed and eat your breakfast. You have to leave for school in ten minutes!

I think I will figure that out when I have more time. That should be an easy problem to solve, he replied as he slowly walked back to his bedroom. Airplanes must be very dangerous, he thought. He could still hear his mother crying in the distant room. He felt very sad as he briefly peered out of his window again at the freshly fallen snow.

******

The city of Tripoli, Libya, known as Arous Albahr Almotawasit (the Jewel of the Mediterranean), lies many miles to the south. It is a beautiful city of white brick buildings and brightly decorated mosques.

The time zone was only an hour ahead of the one in Lillehammer, but the sun was much higher in the sky. Instead of heavy, frigid air blanketing white, freshly fallen snow, there was a warm early-morning sea breeze softly carrying the aroma of lush vegetation. This breeze would later stiffen as the rising sun heated the desert. To the south of the city, the vegetation underwent gradual change until it finally surrendered to yellow and tan sand dunes and barren, rocky plateaus. Many date palms lined the narrow streets of the older parts of the city.

In a squalid part of the Tripoli slums stood a dilapidated, partially abandoned old building in which some of the bricks had crumbled. Inside this dwelling, six-year-old Abdul Nebi al-Mahmoudi was sitting on the floor with his mother. His lesson for the day was to memorize verses that she read from the Holy Qur’an. All morning, he has had trouble concentrating on his lesson due to the incessant noise caused by bursting firecrackers and small arms fire.

You have to learn this lesson before we can go to market at Souq at-Truck, she stressed.

Why are they making all that noise? he asked.

They are celebrating. Your father and your uncle have joined them.

I want to go out and celebrate with them.

No! You may not. Your father has strict orders that you must remain inside. Dear, it is dangerous out there with all of that shooting. You must learn your lesson for today.

What are they celebrating?

Your father will tell you when he returns.

Can you tell me now?

Please! You know that it would be improper for me to speak of such things. Your father is the head of the household and will be the one to tell you when he returns. Now, learn your lesson or he will be extremely angry at both of us.

An hour later, Abdul’s father, Mahmoud and Uncle Nageeb returned to their home. Abdul jumped up and ran to his father. Mahmoud looked over at his wife, Leila, and asked, Did he do well with his lesson for today?

She returned a shrug indicating that the day had not gone well. He looked back at Abdul with a stern look on his face. The penetrating stare of his steel gray eyes was one that Abdul has seen before. The quick-thinking Abdul sensed his father’s anger building and changed the subject by excitedly asking, What are you celebrating?

His emotionally labile father, quick to anger, but also quick to forget, replied, Today is a great day!

His uncle chimed in, My young man, you will tell your grandchildren that you remember the day of the miracle. Yesterday, Allah breathed holy fire on the infidel’s spacecraft!

Yes, he did! agreed his father. He showed them that his power is greater than is theirs!

Why did Allah do it? asked Abdul, taken back by the exuberance of his father and uncle.

His father answered, They have provoked the wrath of Allah by their arrogance and their irreverence! Their society is an abomination!

Can’t we live together in peace?

Mahmoud pounded his fist on the table while yelling, Absolutely not! I have told you many times before. Absolutely not! Allah hates them! We try to live in peace and they keep attacking us and invading our land! They are Shaitan’s legions! You are too young to remember when their oil companies were here, stealing our oil.

Uncle Nageeb added, Five years ago, a friend of mine, while flying an aircraft of our air force, was unlawfully shot down by two United States navy jets just off of our shore!

Another young man was also killed in this unprovoked attack! screamed his father. They were never punished for this! That is not all of the problems we have had. The Italian soldiers unlawfully invaded our homeland in the early nineteen hundreds. Many of our people died under their cruel occupation. The British and American infidels fought against those of Germany and Italy in the early nineteen forties. Both sides destroyed much of our country. No, they will not let us live in peace. They must all die and all that they own must be destroyed! With Allah’s help, they will fall into the great abyss with Shaitan, we will prevail, and the entire world will follow Shariah law!

Father, can I destroy the infidels?

You will be taught in due time, my son. For now, you must learn to read and you must learn the teachings from the Holy Qur’an. You must know the causes for which you will carry on the fight. You must know of the greatness of Allah! You may then become a great leader in our noble cause! To die fighting for Allah will be a great honor to yourself and to your family! To destroy the enemy will be a noble undertaking!

But, Mahmoud, we want something better for our son than fighting for…

Hush, woman! interrupted Mahmoud as he slammed his fist on the table. I am speaking to my son! Your uncle and I are carrying on the fight now. If we are killed in this great cause, remember us when you carry on the fight! Someday, you will honor your family as you destroy infidels! Now study your lesson. We will be back in an hour to see how well you have studied.

Mahmoud and Nageeb placed a bucket of water and some fruit upon the table before rejoining the activities outside. After his father and uncle departed, Abdul ran over to the comforting arms of his mother. He could see the tears in her eyes. He felt sad as he peered out through the open door at the windy, dusty, street.

******

An impoverished side street in a rural Mississippi town near a military base was the location of a shack that was not much better than the dwelling in Tripoli.

The rain was steadily pouring down on this dark and gloomy night. The unpaved muddy streets reflected the dim light from the distant intersection that was illuminated by a single streetlight. The occasional passing automobile splashed standing water onto the barren, weed-choked lawn.

The house’s wooden siding had not been treated in decades and the black, rotting wood no longer wore the coat of white paint that had adorned it in better times. Much of the front siding was swelling as it was absorbing the water pouring down from the gutterless roof. The roof had a noticeable sag in the middle. A mosaic of old green shingles and randomly colored replacements decorated the old roof. The upper half of the chimney had caved in at some remote time in the past. Apparently, it was not considered worthy of repair. The remaining screens still covering the windows had many tears and their bottoms bulged out with thousands of dead flies. One tree limb had penetrated the screen on the house’s side. It was oddly twisted in the space between the screen and the window where the terminal branches appeared to have vainly reached for their freedom.

The interior was illuminated by candlelight. Several pots were on the table and floor to catch the raindrops falling from the ceiling. A mother was sitting at the table while taking care of her baby boy. Little Johnny Tellor, I love you so much, she said as she was breast-feeding the baby. The little baby stopped feeding and looked up into his mother’s smiling face. He grimaced from a sharp gas pain but she was certain that he was returning her smile. Pretty soon he resumed feeding.

The baby’s father, an enlisted man in the military service, was receiving a housing allowance to live off base with his family. He was out drinking all day with his friends and had just returned to the shack. He opened the door to enter allowing the wind-driven rain to spray in. The curtains, which were next to the window over the kitchen sink, began to flutter vigorously. He stomped his feet on the floor several times, shaking off the water onto the floor. Close that door and take off your shoes if you are going to stay awhile! said the baby’s irritated mother. I could have used some help from you, today.

Where’s dinner? were his first words while glancing at the rusty stove.

With an expression of disgust molded into her otherwise kind countenance she answered, I obviously have not had time to fix it yet. As you can see, I have had to attend to little Johnny. I’m fixin’ to start dinner soon. If you had been helping, I could have finished it by now.

What? yelled the father. Nothin’ gets done no how! To hell with that damned baby! I’m goin’ out tonight and I need my food NOW! I work hard at that damned base and need to have some recreation when I’m off-duty.

Make it yourself, then. I’m busy, she said while turning her chair and facing the wall. All you’re going to do is run around with those bar flies, anyway.

He answered while shaking his finger in the air, Hell Grace, I’m goin’ to be shootin’ pool with my friends. Anyhow, we are shippin’ out in two weeks. Maybe then I’ll have some peace from this stupid baby cryin’ all the time.

How can you have fun so soon after we lost our astronauts in the explosion?

Give me a break, Grace. Who cares if a half-dozen honks got knocked-off?

Get out of here! I’m sick of your alcohol breath anyway! I wish you were shipping out sooner.

So do I! If you can’t even make supper, what are you good for, bitch? You even look ugly! I have more fun when you’re not around anyhow.

The father slammed the door behind him as he quickly departed into the rainy winter night.

Little Johnnie started to cry, as did his mother.

******

Evening came to the Manchurian city of Mudanjiang. A penetrating icy northwest wind was howling through the bare trees as it accelerated through the valleys. The cozy little home of nine-year-old Dong Tsai was nestled along a steep hillside.

Dong was sitting next to a warm fire along with his grandfather in a large recliner. His grandfather stood up and poked into the fire with an old garden hoe, causing some sparks to fly upwards while the burning logs were repositioned. The flames danced in the updrafts of the chimney that transported the sound of the howling and whistling outside wind. His grandfather lit up his pipe and slowly sat back down with Dong in the recliner.

Dong listened with intense interest as his learned grandfather told him about the history of Manchuria in the past century. His grandfather described the war against the foreign nationals trying to take over his country in the early part of the twentieth century. The Europeans and Americans called this ‘The Boxer Rebellion.’ Our people have always resented attempts by foreign empires to control us. We did what we had to do, he said.

His grandfather told him about the terrible treatment that his family received from the Japanese occupation forces in the nineteen thirties. The Japanese referred to our Manchuria as a Japanese territory named ‘Manchukuo’, he told Dong. Your great-grandfather, Wang Tsai, was a great patriot. He spied for Mao’s army against the Japanese. Unfortunately, the Japanese tortured a prisoner until the names of several men, including that of your great-grandfather, were disclosed. A Japanese officer cut off your great-grandfather’s head because he kept quiet and refused to cooperate. Our whole family will always be proud of my father, Wang. I will always cherish his memory. I will never like the Japanese.

I don’t like them either, grandfather. Kim throws rocks at them whenever he sees any Japanese boys.

I would not do that. It is better to avoid unnecessary trouble. However, wars are a different issue. I fought in the ‘War of American Imperialists’ Aggression’ in the early nineteen fifties. The Americans had already supported the blood-thirsty monster, Chiang Kai-Shek as he murdered tens of thousands of women and children in Formosa.

Formosa, Grandfather?

Well, ah, Taiwan I mean to say. They were friends of our enemies, the Japanese. Our brothers, the North Koreans were fighting against the United States puppet government of South Korea. The Americans and their allies, called the ‘U.N.,’ entered the war giving the government in Seoul an unfair advantage. We had to come to the rescue of our brothers in North Korea. If we hadn’t, the Americans and their allies would have crossed the Yalu River and invaded our homeland. I never trusted the Americans when they pretended to help us fight the Japanese. I certainly have not trusted them since they used Korea to attack us. You should never trust Americans.

Aren’t there some good Americans?

No, replied his grandfather, Hau.

Why not?

Because from early in life, they are taught to be deceitful, aggressive, and greedy. Their President Nixon visited here claiming to make peace with us. Not only did he lie to us; but also he was later found lying to his own government about that which they called ‘Watergate.’ That’s proof that you can’t trust them. They can’t even trust each other. Their spaceship exploded yesterday because they could not trust their engineers to assemble it correctly. Someday you will be the best engineer in all of China. The people will be proud of you. You will beat the Americans at their own games.

Who can I trust, Grandfather?

You can trust your family and a few close friends. Don’t trust anyone else, especially foreigners.

Dong stayed awake that night thinking about his grandfather’s words. He wondered if he would be as good of an engineer as his grandfather had predicted. What else would be in his future? How would he know who was trustworthy? Dong felt upset and sad that there were so few people that he could trust.

Book I

Promoting the Dream

Chapter One

The Flight

Following a moment’s hesitation,