by B. C. CHASE
MCC: Are you still there, Jim?
“You better respond. She thinks you went away,” Commander Tomlinson says.
ISS: ONE MIN
“Now why did you want to show me this?” Commander Sykes asks.
“I just thought it was an odd thing for her to say,” I said.
“Maybe a bit odd. But remember, you’re talking to NASA’s psychiatrist.” He smiles. “In previous missions, I’ve found NASA’s psychiatrists to be eccentric at times, but they just want to help you stay happy.”
“Okay,” I say, “Thanks.” I turn back to the computer.
Commander Sykes slaps me on the shoulder and says, “Thanks for bringing this up, though. Communication is key.” He exits the module.
ISS: OK IM READY
MCC: Have you experienced difficulty sleeping?
ISS: AT FIRST YES. NOW OK SLEEP
MCC: Do you have any health concern you would prefer to discuss with me?
ISS: NO
MCC: Have you had any time for recreation? I know you were interested in the golf simulator.
ISS: NO. TOO BUSY
MCC: Is the flight plan keeping you too busy for recreation?
ISS: YES
MCC: I’ll talk with the flight director about that. It is important for you to have time to kick back and relax.
ISS: THIS ISNT THE VILLAGES. IM OK
MCC: How do you feel about your quarters?
ISS: NICE
MCC: How do you feel about your workload?
ISS: KEEPS ME BUSY
MCC: Are you sure you’re not too busy?
ISS: NO. GOOD WORK.
MCC: How do you find the food?
ISS: HEALTHY
MCC: Have you been able to eat anything from the Horticulture Modules yet?
ISS: YES. PIECE OF LETTUCE.
MCC: How did that make you feel?
Oh, good grief, I think. How did a piece of lettuce make me feel? How am I supposed to answer that?
ISS: LIKE RABBIT
MCC: Funny. Have you felt homesick?
ISS: NOT A BIT. MY TRUCK HAD LESS SPACE THAN THIS RIG
MCC: Great, it sounds like you’re doing remarkably well, all things considered. We will chat again in two weeks. If you want to talk with me at any time, I will be available. Just let MCC know.
ISS: THANKS
MCC: Is there anything else you want to discuss? Anything at all?
ISS: NO
MCC: See you in two weeks for your checkup, Jimmy. But remember, I am here for you any time you need me. Just let CAPCOM know.
∆v∆v∆v∆v∆
One of my least favorite things about sleeping in space is that if I wake up and need to go to the potty, I have to exit my portal and wander through the station to the nearest facilities, which happen to be in Node 3. As I’m floating through the dimly green-lit tunnel, I see a hexagonal-shaped thing ahead of me. It has a camera in the center and a little arm on the bottom. It floats in mid-air, watching me. Then it turns and drifts out of view. I know what it is.
The SPHERES are one-cubic-foot satellites that inhale gas from the Space Station’s atmosphere, compress it, and use it to thrust themselves about. On the front, they have a camera, a cell phone display underneath, and an arm for manipulating objects and using rudimentary tools. The camera is kind of reminiscent of an eye, but it is expressionless and cold as it stares at you. Funded by DARPA (the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency), they have been under development for twenty-one years, with the ultimate goal of roaming Earth orbit to make repairs on big satellites, dismantle enemy satellites, and perform other tasks to which the public is not privy. Now they are capable of navigating the entire space station under their own power, and they actually do this once every night, taking an inventory of all the supplies on the station. They are also capable of recognizing, following, and monitoring specific astronauts. NASA developed this capability so that they could carry tablets or other devices and follow the astronauts around as they worked—like Santa’s little helper elves. Also, if an astronaut has experienced a health issue, they can monitor that astronaut twenty-four seven and, if the astronaut is in distress or becomes unconscious, sound an alarm and request assistance. With their cameras, they can record everything they see. Such video files are automatically streamed to a public drive over the station’s Wi-Fi network, so anyone could go in and look at them.
As it is, the SPHERES have been used solely for inventory on this mission. That must be what this one was doing. I don’t see any sign of it again as I float up and through the modules to the toilet. I close myself in and go about my business.
When I open the accordion door, I almost jump out of my own skin. The SPHERES is floating there, its camera pointed right at me. The way it just sits there in my way, is creepy. Finally, I push it aside and navigate back through the module. As I float around, I feel like I’m being watched. I glance back to see that the SPHERES is following me. That thing, as harmless as it looks, is starting to scare the bejeebers out of me. I rush back to the Habitation Module as quickly as I can and, flinging open my hatch, fly into my quarters. The SPHERES has kept pace with me, and is there about to help itself in, but I slam the hatch in its nose.
Stupid Piece of Highly Expensive Redundant Equipment for Space, I smugly think. (It only took me twenty minutes to come up with that.)
Nineteen
It is now day twenty-four. I am looking out the lounge window. Neither the Earth, nor Venus, are anything more than dots in the sky, no more extraordinary than Mars, Jupiter, or Saturn. Commander Tomlinson has added sixties musicals to his repertoire of wakeup selections.
Shiro emerges from his hatch. He floats down and comments, “You look out the window a lot.”
I nod, “It’s beautiful out there.”
“But no Earth anymore?”
“Nope,” I reply.
“Are you sure you’re not looking out all the time because you’d rather be at home?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, just asking,” he says.
Yeah, there’s no doubt he’s a psychologist, I think. And, just maybe, he’s right.
Since our first interviews with the flight psychiatrist, the flight plan has been dramatically loosened up. Katia, Tim, Nari, Shiro, Kurt, Sarah, Shelby, and I have been playing poker together. I’ve been bluffing my way to vast hordes of chips, but now they’re starting to catch on to me. To my disappointment, Shelby still won’t let me try out the golf simulator. I’m informing her that keeping me from happiness is making the healing process take longer, but she won’t see reason.
Commander Tomlinson has mellowed a lot. It makes me hope the feedback I provided to the flight psychiatrist did some good.
One additional thing that has done some good is that Houston has examined the Canadarm2 program and found a problem with the code. Apparently, there was a diagnostic mode: a set of preprogramed instructions left over from the testing stage of development which should not have been included in the flight software package. Somehow, the diagnostic mode had been activated. Houston is patching through new software that fixes the issue.
My second interview is today.
∆v∆v∆v∆v∆
MCC: This is Alexandra. It’s nice to talk to you again. How are you, Jim?
ISS: GREAT
MCC: We provided more time for recreation in the flight plan. How does that make you feel?
Good gosh, I think. Do I have to be touchy-feely about everything? Isn’t there something I’m aloud to just not give a darn about?
ISS: GOOD. THANKS
MCC: Are you ready for Venus?
ISS: YEP
MCC: How do you feel about your quarters? Still think it’s nice?
ISS: YEP
MCC: How do you feel about Commander Tomlinson?
ISS: GOOD
MCC: Do you have any of the same feelings you did previously about Commander Tomlinson?
ISS: NO
MCC: Is ther
e anything you’d like to share about any of your other crewmates?
ISS: TIM BLUFFS A LOT IN POKER
MCC: Funny. How is your arm?
ISS: HEALING. SLOW
MCC: Any pain?
ISS: ITS OK
MCC: How do you feel about the food you are eating?
ISS: HEALTHY
MCC: Have you had any additional food from the Horticulture Modules?
ISS: LETTUCE. LETTUCE. LETTUCE
MCC: Everything else has not yet matured?
ISS: YES
MCC: I’m going to ask you some serious questions now. I’d appreciate if you can be honest with me. It is very important that we understand the dynamics of the team for this mission so that we can facilitate the best possible team cohesion.
ISS: OK
MCC: Have you been having any dreams lately?
ISS: YES
MCC: What kinds of dreams?
ISS: I WAS SUCKED OUT INTO SPACE. I DIED.
MCC: Has it made you anxious?
ISS: NO
MCC: Good. Don’t worry. That won’t happen. What else?
ISS: FISHING
MCC: Fishing on the station?
ISS: NO AT HOME
MCC: The Station is your home, for now. It would be good for you to think of it that way. Any sexual dreams?
Sexual dreams? What is this about? This is inappropriate, I think. However, being a psychiatrist, I figure she probably has her reasons. I don’t want to be dishonest or recalcitrant. So I tell the truth.
ISS: YES
MCC: Commander Sykes told me that he has been having dreams about Katia and Nari. Have you experienced the same thing?
Now I’m totally uncomfortable. I am not going to talk about this. A man’s dreams are supposed to be private. If they weren’t, we could project them from our heads for very bizarre and sometimes unspeakably naughty prime time TV.
MCC: Don’t worry, this is perfectly normal and expected. Throughout the history of spaceflight, crew members have experienced such dreams. It is not something to be ashamed of. If I know whom your dreams have focused on, I can better assess the dynamics of the team.
I feel like I’m not talking with Alexandra Iara. I’m talking to Sigmund Freud, and I don’t like it.
MCC: Have you had dreams about Katia?
ISS: NO
MCC: Nari?
ISS: SHE IS MARRIED
MCC: Shelby?
ISS: NO
MCC: Sarah?
ISS: NO
MCC: Tim?
ISS: NO, NO MEN
MCC: You are not being totally honest with me. I understand this makes you uncomfortable, but it is a necessary conversation. Am I to conclude that you are having no sexual dreams about the men, but you are having sexual dreams about all the women onboard?
I have not been having sexual dreams about all the women onboard. I only had one dream and it featured only one woman in a very awkward context. I wish I could set the record straight. I wish I had never indulged in this creepy conversation in the first place.
MCC: Do you feel you have an appropriate outlet for your sexual energy?
ISS: I’M 75
MCC: Seventy-five-year-old-men still get horny. ;-) You do not need to be embarrassed. Do you find any of your crewmates attractive? Are you attracted to them?
I’m a flesh-and-blood male. Of course I have noticed that there are young women on board and they are easy on the eyes. But I do not want to make any of them my mate. I am not attracted to them.
ISS: NO
MCC: Katia told me that she is attracted to you.
I don’t believe this for a second. I think, though, that I have figured out exactly what Alexandra is doing. This is some kind of sexual harassment probability assessment. It’s a “me too” test. She is trying to determine how likely I am to harass one of the other crew members. Before they give the go-ahead to continue the mission to Pluto, they want to make sure nobody is going to become a harasser.
ISS: I AM LIKE KATIA’S GRANDPA. THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE.
MCC: No, she is strongly sexually attracted to you.
ISS: I HOPE NOT
MCC: And why shouldn’t she be? Of all the members of the crew, you are the strongest, the most confident, and the most reliable.
ISS: THANK YOU
MCC: Girls like Katia and Nari and I are attracted to older men. They have something the young guys don’t. They’ve been there, done that, and they know what they want. They’re not worried about what we think about them, and that makes them irresistible. It’s just a fact of life.
ISS: IRRELEVANT TO THE MISSION
MCC: I noticed your magnetism the first time you came to NASA.
ISS: I DON’T REMEMBER MEETING YOU
MCC: We haven’t met, but I saw you around.
I feel like a rat in some kind of perverse experiment. I decide it’s time to shut this conversation down right now.
ISS: WHAT IS NASA’S PLAN? ARE WE ABORTING MISSION?
MCC: You want to go home?
ISS: MAYBE
MCC: I don’t know what the plan is. I’m sure they will send it, soon. Do you have any other questions for me?
It seems to me she’s the one who’s been asking all the questions.
ISS: NO
MCC: Remember, I am here for you any time you need me. Just let CAPCOM know. If not, see you in two weeks.
Twenty
It is now day forty-six, and we can see Venus clearly for the first time. It is a yellow crescent smaller than a grain of rice held at arm’s length. It boggles the mind to think that, within three days, we will reach it. Apparently, there has been a lot of wrangling on the ground as to whether the mission should be aborted. We have been told by MCC that even the White House has been heavily involved in that question.
Today, though, Houston promises they will give the verdict. It won’t be a moment too soon because Tim says the computer needs to be programed for the maneuver in advance.
I’m busy in my Horticulture Module. The sounds of the bees buzzing about are calming, though it can’t be easily heard over the hum of the equipment.
The compost is produced in small batches. In the first stage, we dump about a bucketful of soil (a mixture of peat moss, cow manure, organic matter, and nutrients) into the first round bin. Then it’s whatever organic waste I have collected from throughout the station (the toilet waste is sanitized first, mind you) or our plants have already dropped (dead leaves and such). We pour in a little water with a microbial solution and we put the bin on a machine that is able to mix it up with the lid on. We pop a bowlful of worms in, and then it sits for weeks. The worms go about their business breaking down the organic matter and by the time you open it up again you have a wonderful piece of the Earth waiting to be pressed into the containers.
There is very little inorganic trash produced on the station. Even the plastics are a corn-soy product, so after heating them, we can throw wrappers into the compost, too. The worms gobble them right up.
The Horticulture Modules are now looking lush and are very inviting, as long as you keep the lids on the compost, which we do. Some of my favorite time is spent clipping dying leaves, planting seedlings, and saying “hello” to my worms. I have become a little attached to them, in a way, but there are too many to give them all names and, to be completely honest, it’s hard for me to tell them apart. They are my little spacefaring companions, and if they don’t keep busy, I won’t get to eat any tasty produce, so I offer them as much encouragement as I can.
I don’t devote the same affection to the bees. They look friendly and buzz around happily, but I know they’re hiding powerful stingers under their skirts and I’m never quite sure about their intentions—especially when I approach them to steal a little honey.
As my flight plan time allotment in my Horticulture Module comes to an end, I look around to survey my work. Seeing all the greenery makes me wish there were some birds in here, twittering and flitting about. Or at least some but
terflies would be nice. I wonder how birds would fly in zero-g. Probably a bit chaotically. One flap could send them straight to the ceiling. On the other hand, the bees are doing okay. Heck, had I been in charge we would have had a lot of important nature experiments going on up here, that’s for sure.
As it is, the plants and worms and stinging bees will have to do.
I exit my module and drift down the tunnel past the next Horticulture Module entrance. Just as I am about to float up the tunnel for Node 1, I hear a strange noise from all the way down the other side of the tunnel. Curious, I drift down to the end of the tunnel, hearing the sound again. I peer through the last Horticulture Module portal window on the hatch.