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  “That’s all of them!” Jared yells. The larger mercury vapor lamps of the big room are slowly warming up and becoming brighter. It is like watching the sky light up at sunrise, only quicker. Details of the room appear and colors, mostly on warning or caution signs, become more vivid. The lack of decoration completes the feeling of being in a large industrial warehouse that must be almost the size of a football field and roughly the same shape.

  The rail extends into the room about two thirds of the way. As the lights reach their full intensity, it takes on a metallic black sheen, and lines delineating sections begin to appear. I guess it is about eight feet wide by two feet thick, balanced on six foot high trestles of concrete. It disappears into the staging platform which can be mounted by staircases at each corner. On top of the platform stand many sections of piping. I wonder what it is used for.

  “Welcome to the Magnetic Levitation Experimental Launch Facility,” he barks like a ringmaster during a circus performance. “The room you are standing in is one hundred and twenty feet long by two hundred and fifty feet wide. The ceiling is roughly one hundred feet above us with sixteen rows of eight, five hundred watt mercury vapor lights.” He is pretty entertaining.

  “How’s all that stuff used?” I ask, pointing to the raised platform.

  “Thank you for asking. I’ll be happy to answer any questions at the conclusion of the tour. Now, if you’ll follow me.” He slides a key into the control room door, opens it, and motions for me to follow. To the right is a stairway up to a second level. We walk up several steps, stopping to look over the handrail into the lower room.

  The front wall is mesh-reinforced windows; blast windows Jared labels them as he continues his spiel. I am only half listening. The far side is a mirror image of the door we came in and the stairs we are standing on. In the center of the room are six computer workstations, all facing the back where one large display takes up most of the wall. The part of Jared’s speech that does get through, confirms my feeling that we were in the flight and landing control area of the launch facility.

  “As we continue up the stairs...” cues Jared as we climb the stairs and enter the launch control area. At the top of the stairs, another closed door on the right exits the room, but we turn left and climb a second, short set of three steps. There are sets of four chairs around a pair of tables in this observation area. Along the back wall to my right are two groupings of framed pictures. A plaque below identifies the first grouping as the first and second launches from the facility. There are signed shots of the two crew members and the four passengers who went along on the rides. I look closely at the names, but none are very legible.

  I turn towards the front, walking past a table and chairs, and grab hold of the industrial steel railing next to Jared, who stands quietly lost in thought, gazing out the windows. They are the same mesh reinforced panes as on the first floor, though they make up the entire wall from floor to ceiling. On one of these I notice a jagged, starburst impact about six inches in diameter at the top of the right-hand panel. A crack runs down from it towards the floor, not quite reaching the edge. I want to ask about it but don’t.

  We are standing a few feet above and looking over a room of five monitoring stations which are facing forward out the window. On the center one I notice one green button and one red button, both under glass covers. It is easy to determine what their function is.

  Gazing over the top of these gives a breathtaking view of the concrete staging platform I had seen before we entered the control room for the tour. This is obviously the perspective displayed in the pictures on the back wall. I turn to look at the pictures again, becoming more aware of the details of the platform which has a space plane on it being readied for launch. “This is so cool,” I whisper, looking at Jared.

  We gaze out the windows for several more minutes. Looking at the long, black arm of rail disappearing into the tunnel, I wonder what a launch would be like. For the first time, I realize the rail is lower than the platform with a large, rectangular plate centered over the rail and level with the platform. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing.

  “The launch sled,” he answers. “The splane is mounted on top. Then the magnetic force drags the sled down the rail. It’s a lot like how catapults launch fighter jets from aircraft carriers.” Splane is the generic term we use for all space planes. I had read recently that there are now more than a dozen designs for these vehicles used for the short tourist hops out to the edge of space.

  Finally Jared says, “We better get to work.” The spell is broken as I follow him over towards the stairway on the wall opposite where we came up. He stops to look at the second set of pictures which I hadn’t seen up close. “That’s me,” he says, pointing at a little figure sitting with elbows on knees and head in hands on one of the stairs up to the maglev platform.

  “No way!” I say.

  “Yep. I was about four at the time, and Dad had brought me down to see what he did all day. Preparations had already been completed and there wasn’t much activity going on so he could get away with it. He told me to sit there and not touch anything while he got off the stairs and took the photo.”

  “That’s so cool,” I say again, looking more closely at the picture. I can’t tell it’s him but if he says it is, that’s good enough. “I’ll bet no other kids were that lucky!”

  “Yeah,” he replies. “And I didn’t realize just how lucky I was. It’s a shame the place had to close down about a year later. This would really be a great job if launches were still going on.”

  “I would like to have seen one close up,” I comment wistfully.

  “There are some hi-def video discs around here somewhere. Maybe we could watch one sometime.”

  We head down the stairs and out the doorway on the opposite side of the room. Twenty feet in front of me is another doorway. Above it is an ‘Exit’ sign and on the door itself are the words ‘Stairs to Train’. It is the entrance we had come through on our visit to the shiff a couple of weeks ago. In the dust on the floor I can see our footprints. “What a strange sign,” I mutter to myself, apparently loud enough for Jared to hear.

  He stops and turns to see what I’m talking about. “Dad said one of the guys that came out to work on the construction of this place had worked on the elevated system in Phoenix. That sign was his attempt at humor.”

  Looking to the right are two more doors in the wall. The farthest away is labeled ‘Storage’, the nearest ‘First Aid’. “Any idea what’s in those rooms?”

  “Been a long time since I’ve been in them,” Jared replies, “but we’ll find out before we’re done down here. Dad thinks there might be something interesting to use as a display in the storage room. C’mon,” he waves as he resumes his walk back over to where we had left our tools when we first came in. I follow slowly behind, curiously looking at everything there is to see.

  When we reach the tools, I feel my mood change. It is a bit of a downer, seeing the pictures in the control rooms, imagining the excitement of a launch and now being here just to clean the place. Jared picks up one of the long handled brushes and a coil of hose. “Get ready for just a little more fun,” he instructs me.

  “What fun is this going to be?” I protest out loud, picking up the other brush and the second coil of hose. I follow Jared over towards the rail platform, getting a good look down the tunnel. It is long. Even with the lights on, it’s ‘hard to see the end’ long. I feel my spirits sink lower. Jared still hasn’t told me how he is going to get us and the equipment down there. Then it occurs to me that the walls of the tunnel are at least forty feet tall and we don’t have any ladders. I don’t see anything that is going to help us complete our task and figure we are going to have to make a second trip to get more equipment.

  Jared’s brush and hose are at the base of the stairs up to the platform so I drop mine again. I look up the stairs which are about four feet wide, cut into and supported by a concrete wall over a foot wide. The platform, which seems much
bigger up close, extends over the edge of the support wall at the top.

  Jared has walked about half way to the other side of the supports and is motioning for me to join him before he disappears under the platform. As I walk over, I pass three more concrete support walls. Each forms a short passage through which I can see a slightly different view of the rail tunnel. Each of these smaller tunnels houses different equipment. In the shadows created by the now completely lit mercury lamps, I can make out ladders and planks in the first one, carts in the second, and tools of unknown use in the third. When I look into the fourth one that Jared has walked into, it’s completely blocked only ten feet in. This is the beginning of the rail’s support trestles which run perpendicular to the platform supports.

  A single bulb lights the small area which is roughly four feet wide and seven feet to the ceiling. Jared is down about eight feet, standing in front of four more electrical panels which have large diameter conduit exiting them and disappearing into the concrete above the boxes. He has already opened the door of the one in front of him, but I can see lettering on the fronts of two behind him which read ‘Rail 3’ and ‘Rail 4’. There is only one big switch in front of Jared and as he throws it, I hear a low hum rise up around me.

  “These power the rail,” he informs me, though I have already guessed it. “Each one adds more strength to the coils. We only need a little power for what we’re going to do.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Cleaning, of course, and this’ll help.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Sure. Dad and one of his engineering buddies went over the whole system last month. Then, when he told me we’d be working down here, he brought me down to learn about it. “You’ll really appreciate this,” he tells me. “C’mon.”

  He brushes past me heading towards the right hand stairway and continues up onto the platform. I follow slowly, cautiously curious. I’m about to remind Jared that we don’t have our tools, but then we aren’t going to use them up here anyway. It makes me wonder if the tour has resumed.

  I slide my hand along the banister going up the stairs quickly realizing it isn’t like the steel ones in the control room. I guess it is manufactured from some strong, lightweight composite material that is smooth and off-white. It shows little sign of age, even though the treads themselves are scuffed with the wear of many trips up and down by many people doing their jobs.

  There isn’t much on top of the platform. I can see stairs at the other end. Along the sides are the long sections of tubing framework I had seen earlier. They are made out of the same material as the banister. Some are standing on small wheels. “What are these for?” I almost have to shout at Jared who is headed for the sled. Up here it seems the size of the room swallows my words.

  “That’s the gantry to work on the splane after it’s mounted on the sled. Didn’t you notice it in the pictures?” I guess I hadn’t. I was too interested in the splane itself. I try to recall everything I had seen in the picture.

  “Hey!” Jared shouts, breaking into my recall. “How about a little help?”

  I walk over to the sled. Jared is standing on a platform that is two steps down from the main platform and spans the width of the rail. The edge closest to the sled is covered with a hard, black rubber material used to protect the sled from any damage if the two pieces ever touched. At the end closest to the sled, I can see the four runs of conduit from below, two on each side. They make ninety degree turns and disappear again into the concrete that supports the rail.

  The rail itself contains hundreds of huge coils of wire running its full length. I remember seeing them from underneath as a kid during those many times we had played on the outside section of rail down at the end by the graveyard. Now I can see how the sled curves around them. Then I notice that the sled already appears to be floating on the magnetic field.

  “Are you about ready?” Jared interrupts again.

  “Sure,” I reply faintly. “This is really fascinating.”

  “Well, you’ll get your fill by the time we’re done. Now help me with this.”

  What I momentarily assume are observation chairs between the steps when I first walk down, turn out to be low-backed, fiberglass bucket seats mounted on a frame about six feet wide made out of the same composite material. Jared is half bent over ready to lift the frame. I bend over and mirror his position on my end.

  “We’re putting this on the sled,” he says and begins to lift. Expecting the frame to be heavy, I give a yank and almost fall over backwards onto the steps. It isn’t heavy at all. I recover my balance and we carry the seats over to the sled. Jared is grinning. “I did the same thing when Dad showed me how this all fits together.

  “Now, see the holes on the sled? We have to fit the frame legs into it at the same time.” It’s a tight fit. “Now do these babies...” he pulls out a nearly two foot bolt hidden in the frame’s tubing and slides it into holes drilled in the sled frame to intersect with the legs we had just inserted, “and we’re almost ready to go.”

  I find the second bolt on my side and follow his example. It is then I notice the seatbelt hanging under the seat on my side. I look at Jared’s. He has already swung his up around the seat for use. Protruding from the rear of a console between the seats is a wiring harness which he connects to the sled below. “Let’s take a ride,” he says with satisfaction as he climbs around to the front.

  As I take my seat I become more aware of the slight vibration I feel in the sled. A strange excitement begins building inside me. I hadn’t expected this job benefit and now understand the meaning of all the hints Jared had given on the way down here; a ride on the launch sled! How cool is that?!

  Jared is already buckled in. My pulse begins racing as I click the seatbelt and pull it tight, while watching him pop open the top of the console. The tops’ halves part to reveal several switches, a three-digit, red LED numeric readout labeled ‘Speed in Knots’, and a stick controller. It appears much more sophisticated than my game controller and yet familiar, like one out of an abandoned fighter jet out in the graveyard.

  “Ready?” Jared asks, flipping switches causing status lights to go from red to green.

  “Ready!” I grab the frame of the seat, expecting to be thrown back by the acceleration.

  “Three, two, one,” he slowly counts down before beginning to push the joystick forward. I sense the sled moving gently on the magnetic cushion created by the rail coils. Anticipating an acceleration rush like I get on roller coasters, I close my eyes to enjoy the full thrill of the ride.

  Then we stop! I open my eyes. “What happened?”

  Apparently Jared has been observing my excitement. Laughing, he undoes his seatbelt. “What did you expect?” he manages between breaths. “A take off like a fighter coming out of a space cruiser? Can’t get that from throwing just one of those power switches.” His joviality wanes as he gets up, pleased with the prank he has pulled.

  I blush with embarrassment. “Ha, ha,” I mock, muttering “jerk” under my breath. But what did I expect? That Jared’s dad would let us go flying down the launch rail at nearly six hundred miles per hours? I see the absurdity of my expectations and begin to laugh at myself.

  “Had ya going, didn’t I?” Jared says, noticing my change of disposition.

  “That was a good one,” I congratulate him. “So what’s next?” I continue, wanting to move on.

  He shows me how the sections of gantry are mounted on the sled to span almost the entire width of the tunnel. Then we go down the stairs on the tunnel end of the platform. Between some of the platform supports are sections of scaffolding made out of the composite material. The lowest sections can be hung from the gantry on each side, and have ladders on them half the height of the platform. These are hinged to swing down, and can be locked to function as legs as well. We lay planks on the scaffold to give easy access to the face of the walls.

  Then we carry the four remaining sections up onto the platform. These a
re a little taller than the others. Two are inserted into connections over the leg sections. The other two are set in the middle to span the width of the gantry. We go back down the stairs to get the planking. Jared climbs up to put the planks in their proper place. This gives us access to the ceiling. I hadn’t expected that we’d be doing the ceiling, too!

  “You don’t expect me to walk across that, do you?” I ask as he sets the last one in place. There are no guard rails, nothing to catch you if you lose your balance.

  “We’re not done yet,” he says. “Look under the seats back by the console. You should find four coils of wire with hooks on the ends. Toss them up to me. And the crescent wrench, too!”

  I find the coils where he says, and the wrench, but I have to climb up where the middle sections meet to give them to him. “Keep the wrench,” he says, nodding to my left, “and climb that section of scaffold.”

  While I do that, he attaches the hooks on two of the coils to the center scaffold and gingerly walks the planking over to where I wait. An eye bolt accepts the other hook which also has a turnbuckle attached to draw the wires taut. I can feel the entire structure wriggling but it isn’t enough that anything comes undone. The legs supporting the lower scaffold are keeping the movement in check.

  I adjust the crescent wrench to the size of the turnbuckle and begin to tighten the guy wires. The structure quivers less as they became taut. Jared reaches for the wrench as I finish and taps the wires which give a low, metallic sound. “Just a little more,” he comments. He puts the wrench to the turnbuckle for a few more rounds. “Great! We have hand rails,” he informs me. “I can do the other side. You go swing the legs up and bring the brushes up onto the sled. Then we’ll be ready to go.” He is really enjoying himself. I have to admit, it is pretty amazing the way somebody engineered the whole system.