But what was he to learn from viewing a test firing? It was a stunt, obviously, designed to impress and overwhelm him. It was typical of Hans Udet; Dana felt immediately irritated at the waste of time.

He opened up his briefcase with a snap; as if in revenge he turned away from the landscape unrolling beyond the car windows and buried his attention in technical documentation.

The car delivered him to the Wasatch Division of Morton Thiokol, a few miles outside Brigham City. With a touch of Dana’s elbow, Jack led the way to a small prefabricated office module set on trestles a little way from the dusty road.

The test site was a bleak, isolated clutter of buildings, cupped by a broad crater-shaped depression in the desert. Low hills peppered with green-black vegetation rimmed the site. To the east, blue mountains shouldered over the horizon.

Jack pointed to a test rig a couple of miles away. Dana squinted to see in the brilliant light; he made out a slim white cylinder laid flat against the ground.

The office module, surprisingly enough, was air-conditioned, equipped with a refrigerator and some coffee-making equipment, and Dana breathed in its warm, moist air with relief. Inside, Hans Udet was waiting for him.

“Dr. Dana. I’m delighted to see you here today.”

Really? Quite a contrast to the last time we were up against each other, Hans, at the Mars mission mode presentations in Huntsville…

Dana shook the German’s hand, warily, and glanced around the office module. There was a cutaway model of the SRB, and artists’ impressions executed in the compelling, visionary style which had, Dana thought, become so much of a clichй from NASA in recent years. A loudspeaker taped high on one wall carried muted commentary on the progress of the test.

Obviously the office was a honey trap, designed to impress visiting decision makers. Like me. I suppose I should be flattered.

“We’re alone here?”

“Dr. Dana, this is a big day for us — the first integrated test firing — and I particularly wanted you to be here to see it. As my guest. Come; sit down. Let me take your briefcase. Would you like some coffee? — or perhaps cold beer—”

Dana accepted a glass of orange juice — chilled, it felt like, almost to freezing — and sat on a stackable chair.