Space Task Group — 1969

“Have you seen what the Space Task Group is cooking up? Have you seen the report?”

Haldeman took a sip of his cola. It was warm. But it was still cola.

“No Sir. I heard the President talking about it. He’s expecting something sensible from Spiro…worries he’s gone native, too much time at the space centres…”

“The guys a joke. Paine has got him in his pocket. Mueller too, so help us.”

Ehrlichman briefly bristled at his colleague’s description of the Vice President.

“Ambitious?”

Haldeman leant back, covering his mouth conspiratorially.

“A fairy tale. Never seen anything like it. It’s got this grand sounding title, new rockets, the frapping Space Shuttle, these nuclear reactors, and Mars, of course.

Ehrlichman took his glasses off.

“New rockets? What’s wrong with the ones we’ve already got? Saw one head off to the moon last month…they seem to work pretty darn good.”

Haldeman shrugged.

“Why don’t you speak to some of Spiro’s guys? The ones he listens to: those old timers he brought with him. Lay the OMB stuff on thick — they’ll be all over it soon. Y’know, this is the VPs first big job for the President, he doesn’t want to…you know the sort of thing.”

Ehrlichman nodded.

“But what does the President want?”

Haldeman snorted.

“On space? Damned if I know. Doubt he does, really. Something that’s new, but not too new, not the damn Moon race — nothing to do with Kennedy. Something that plays well in the south, something that’s…”

They said cheaper at the same time.

“…give the man options. Spiro and Paine need to come with options. You know what he’s like, he wants to choose. A big thing, little smaller, and something tiny that makes us look like a joke. They’ve got to give him something he can say yes to.”

“I’ll speak to them.”