“Von Braun was no Nazi.  He was merely raised there.  Trapped.  Not unlike those fellas at NASA, being raised without ever meeting a black person.”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

He looked at Angela.  “Von Braun was stolen from the Nazis at the end of the war.  Let’s call it rescued.  Located and skirted out with hundreds of other scientists for their expertise before the Russians could get them.  Von Braun was the brains behind those V2 rockets fired at England.  Those were unfortunate but used revolutionary concepts.”  He looked back and forth at them.  “Don’t you two ever read any history books?”

Rickards pointed his thumb at Angela.  “She’s the know-it-all.”

“Von Braun and Houbolt helped lead the early Apollo program.  But they became adversaries over the best way to get to the moon—more specifically, how to land on it.  Von Braun wanted to use a gargantuan rocket to do it, while Houbolt argued it would be too dangerous and take too long.”

“And?”

“Houbolt was right.  And Von Braun eventually came around, though quite reluctantly.”

“What does all this have to do with you and Mike Morton?”

Townsend smiled, displaying a set of perfect white teeth.  “Who do you think was on Houbolt’s team?”

“You and Mike?”

“Correct.  We were part of the team to argue the use of a much smaller lander.  The math proved it was the most practical way to go—and ultimately the safest.”

“And… the bigotry?”

“I was just making a point—that differences, even in race, are quickly torn down once one side helps the other.  Our team was no different.  Sure, they were difficult at first, until the first major crack in the wall came, when Mike discovered a math error that could have killed the Apollo 11 launch team.  That destroyed a lot of that old-school hubris and we eventually became friends.  I still talk with a few of those fellas today.  There’s not many of us left, and I’ll tell you this, there’s not an ounce of racism in them anymore.”

“That’s great.” Angela smiled.

“Don’t get me wrong—it wasn’t like that everywhere, just on our immediate team.  But it was a step.  And an important lesson in being human.”

“You said you still talk to some of these old colleagues?” asked Rickards.

“That’s right.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know.  Every six months or so, I guess.”

“But not Mike?”

Townsend shrugged.  “I didn’t know where he was.  And besides, he always got talking about other things.  Strange things.  Theories the rest of us didn’t particularly share.”

“Do you remember his work on satellites?”

“Of course.  I was in a different department in those days, but I assisted him on a few of his birds.”

“Do you remember helping him on a project called CERES?”

Townsend’s brow dropped into a serious stare.  “I do.  Why are you asking?”