That bubble of glass on top of the ascent stage, for instance. It would have given the crew an uninterrupted horizontal field of view, and 135 degrees vertically: it would have been like riding some superb helicopter down to the surface of Mars. But if the bubble was made of laminated glass, it would be too heavy; and lighter alternatives like Plexiglas would discolor and weaken under the intense, ultraviolet-laden Mars sunlight. And, as Jack Morgan was quick to point out, all that glass would overload the environment control system. So the beautiful bubble was discarded, in favor of small, LM-like, downward-slanting pilot’s windows.

And the five-landing-leg geometry was soon upped to six, to provide the broad-based craft with better landing dynamics. To guard against excessive forces on landing, the legs incorporated a crushable aluminum honeycomb, so they would compress, absorbing the force of impact…

It was an exciting, invigorating time.

Lee didn’t spare himself; he charged through the organization, checking, cross-fertilizing, collating, cutting through a lot of what he judged to be sterile crap.

Sometimes he’d realize he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept, or eaten. Sometimes, in fact, it was only a pressure in his bladder or bowels that made him attend to the human side of his needs at all.

Every day he went home in the dark and left in the dark.

It was incredible. He never even saw the apple blossom in his yard. He hardly saw his kids — two boys, Bert and Gerry, both high-school age — for more than minutes at a time.

He had a little more time with Jennine, but most of that he spent eating, or — if he was lucky and could relax — sleeping lightly.

He worried a little about Jennine, when he thought about it. She’d grown used to the stupid hours he worked, over the years. Although she knew and cared nothing about airplanes, Jennine seemed to understand that these bursts of activity were like brushfпres; they wouldn’t last forever, and then she would have him back. For a while, anyhow.

But she seemed a little more strained, this time, although he couldn’t quite figure out why.

They were both older, he supposed. That was one thing. And the boys were sure a handful.

But the MEM pressure would go away. She would get him back.

…But what if we win?

Then it isn’t going to go away. Is it, JK? Not until 1986, and that ascent stage lifts off Mars, and it’s all over.

But always, the work came crowding back in on him again, shutting out his consideration of anything else.

He kept two supreme goals in mind. One was meeting the proposal submission deadline, and the other was keeping the MEM’s overall weight within the design limits specified in the RFP.