Starship X-15

by Alan VanMeter

  Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

  “Anyhow, with me here is special agent Wilkins. He will swear you all in for the new clearances.”

  “Yes, if everyone would take one declaration each. Pass them around please. Now, before you sign this declaration, you will each recite after me. Please stand, hand over your heart, like you mean it. I… say your name…do solemnly swear to abide in all secrecy concerning the project named SCITSM, and spoken of by the code name Cart-smith; under penalty of high treason. I take this oath willingly and without intimidation.”

  Why is he looking at me? Okay… he’s looking around.

  “Now sign the declaration stating the same, and hand them back please. If you break this oath, you will be tried for high treason, the consequences of which may include the death penalty. Don’t break the oath, period. Thank you, oh, and I have a new ID badge for each of you, see me after the briefing.”

  Now the third man speaks. “Hello, I am Professor W. That is my code name, and is all you need to know. Now before I tell you what the name of our project stands for, I wish to bring everyone up to speed, though I know you already mostly are Doctor Clark. First take a look at the graphic of a gravity well. This familiar graphic doesn’t tell the whole story, can anyone see what is missing?”

  My hand is up! “It is only a two dimensional representation of time-space sir.”

  A smile and a nod from him, excellent.

  “Yes, so what would a three dimensional graphic look like?”

  Again my hand shoots up, “A vortex is all I can picture Professor W.”

  “Yes young lady. What is your name?”

  “I’m Devon Stanley, I work for Doctor Clark.”

  He looks at the Doctor almost accusingly.

  “I only challenged her with the graphic, and she figured it out.” Doctor Clark assures him.

  “Is that right? How far did you get along that train of thought then?” He looks back to me.

  “Perhaps that time-space may have properties of a fluid.”

  “Very good. That’s correct. So if we apply some fluid dynamics to the nature of time-space, perhaps we can understand its functions better.”

  My arm again. “I also thought that maybe the movement of time-space into a gravity-well like a planet, might be what gravity is actually.”

  He chuckles. “You’ve got a live one there Doctor. Yes Devon, and perhaps that explains why gravity is different on other worlds too. Fluid dynamics one oh one. The faster a fluid moves, the less pressure it exerts. In this case the gravitational kinetic pressure of time-space as it moves over matter. So a planet with less gravitational force perhaps has the fluid of time-space moving over it at a faster rate. Less kinetic pressure, and also perhaps experiencing a faster rate of time flow itself. It is the same thing after all.”

  “Wait a minute!” I hear myself objecting. “Wouldn’t that mean that time goes by faster too, say on a planet with lower gravity?”

  “Yes Doctor Stanley! Very astute. Now this stuff is very highly classified, as is everything concerning this project. This fact was indeed proven some years ago. The rate of time’s flow is faster on the moon say, and on Mars, but it is slower on Jupiter; compared of course with the rate of time’s flow on Earth, or relative to us.”

  “I’m not a doctor, Professor W, not yet anyhow.” I don’t know why I feel he needed correction, dumbass!

  “You should be. You’re way ahead of the field already. Now, since we know that there are gravity vortices, or sources of compression of time-space, we can then postulate that there are expansion sources of this fluid as well.”

  “The Quasars!” I almost shout. Calm down girl.

  Professor W. now laughs. “Right again my dear. Oh yes, you helped verify the true location of these phenomenon yesterday. Nice job, though it wasn’t the first verification, we did want a second opinion. Now, the mission of your team is to accurately predict the true locations of, not the apparent ones, and map the nearby stars up to twenty light years distance from us. Including your predictions of where, and how strong, or fast that there might be time-space currents flowing, all relative to Earth time. In essence charting the interstellar currents of the ocean of time-space fluid.”

  “No small task sir.” Doctor Clark sighs.

  “You are correct Doctor, but it must be done. You will link with a Doctor T at JPL for fluid dynamic modeling, only on the dedicated server. The brief file is accessible there as well, don’t print it out. For protocol questions, see agent Wilkins. Any other questions?”

  My hand goes up again, “What does SCITSM stand for?”

  “Oh, yes. Stellar Cartography Including Time-Space Movement.”

  “Nice.”

  “Remember to get your badges from me.” Wilkins voices with authority.

  I let most everyone else get their badges first, because I hope to talk to Professor W. Kiss some ass, maybe get some. He’s talking to another man who just came in with another fellow. I bet both are agents. Oh shit…no.

  Next agent Wilkins hands my badge to the agent behind him. “Ms. Stanley please follow agent Carson here.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Act innocent stupid!

  “He will give you your badge, please follow him.”

  “Sure.” Oh shit, oh shit! Stupid ass girl!

  They take me across the hall to another much smaller room. Just a desk and two seats.

  “Ms. Stanley, please have a seat.” Carson commands.

  “Sure.”

  “Ms. Stanley, I have to inform you of your rights. You are under arrest for falsifying sworn documents. This is a felony offense. You have the right to remain silent, and the right to an attorney.”

  NO! Damn it! You screwed up big time now dumbass!

  “Do you understand your rights?”

  “Yes.” I’m screwed.

  Agent Wilkins comes in, and sits down. Carson leaves.

  “Devon, you understand that you are in a heap of trouble don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” My tears are so very real.

  “Now lucky for you that Doctor Clark, and Professor W, both spoke up for you. They see something in you. So we have decided to give you a chance to make all the charges go away, and even keep your job, well a job anyhow. Sound interesting?”

  “What kind of job?”

  “Well, all I can tell you for now is that you will be immediately sent to NASA’s astronaut training program.”

  Oh wow! “Yes, okay. I’m in.” I can’t freaking believe it.

  “Fine, you leave in the morning. Agent Carson has your itinerary, and plane tickets. Your new ID badge will be held by us until you complete the training. You are to tell no one anything concerning for what you are being trained.”

  “I won’t, because I don’t know anyway.”

  “That’s the spirit Devon.”

  Chapter 2

  During the flight to Houston I can’t believe my luck. I should be in jail right now, instead I’m going to be an astronaut! I bet they send me to the ISS; that will be so amazing. Or maybe they want me to do something to the Hubble telescope. Either way, I’m going into space, hell yeah! But why me? Unless it’s something real damn dangerous…

  The NASA people greeting myself, and several others at the airport are nice, and very friendly seeming. All the others being met with me are wearing military uniforms, so I’m the odd-ball right away, great. One good-looking Air Force officer notices me, and flirts with his eyes. I flirt back.

  As we walk from the shuttle bus into the Johnson Space Center, he asks, “So, what outfit are you with Miss?”

  “Phillip’s Labs.” I smile.

  “Interesting, and what is your area of expertise?”

  I can’t say much more, but I let slip, “Astrophysics.”

  “Nice. Beautiful, and smart. You’ll make a good astronaut.” He smiles. I can see him kissing me. I hope so.

  “And you?” Keep it going girl, be interested.

  “Oh, I’m a fight
er jock. F-22 Raptor pilot.”

  “What’s your rank pilot?” I demand, with false scrutiny.

  “Major, ma’am.”

  Oh, now he’s curt is he? Well see about that. “Good, because I sure wouldn’t want to waste my time on a measly Captain or a Lieutenant.”

  “Oh? I would wager that you are trouble miss, what is your name?” He shakes his head in frustration. Good.

  “I’m Devon.”

  “Devon, I’m Rick. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Just then the NASA girl leading, shows us the cafeteria.

  “It is free of charge for all astronauts in training, and is usually open. Unless you have some dietary restrictions imposed.” Her smile tells us to expect just that.

  “Now I will take you to your quarters, please follow me.”

  Rick makes sure to walk next to me, good.

  “So Devon, where are you from?”

  “I was born and raised in Sacramento. How about you?”

  “Boise.”

  “Idaho!” I chuckle, but he is not amused. “You’ve never heard the joke, or what?”

  “What joke?”

  “What does a prostitute holler when a fellow waves a twenty dollar-bill?”

  “That’s not funny Devon, at all.”

  “No?”

  “Nope.” He is curt again.

  “Oh well, maybe next time.” I giggle at him.

  “Please don’t feel obligated, or compelled.”

  I can tell he’s got a real dry sense of humor, have to work on it.

  Our rooms are nice and private. Just a Twin Mattress bed, a small closet stocked with NASA workout suits of my size, and a separate bathroom, but it is better than a jail cell, by far. They have cut us loose to explore the amenities, or rest. I like rest. Latter I’ll try the food, and then get psyched for tomorrow when the training begins.

  I meet up with Rick in the cafeteria, he is just finishing his meal as I sit down across from him.

  “Well howdy stranger.” I giggle.

  “Howdy indeed missy.” He plays up his western drawl.

  “I see you’re a helpin’ yourself to the baked beans there fellar.” I too play up a cowgirl burr. “Ain’t ya afraid you’ll fog up the inside of that there spacesuit, somethin’ fierce?”

  His face drops in real worry. I love it! Now to press the issue. “I heard if there’s too much methane gas in the suit, it could ignite spontaneously.”

  “Oh shit.” He sighs.

  “No shit, just farts… that’ll do it.” I smile.

  “What did I do to deserve this?”

  “It’ll burn a fellar to the crisp, right quick. Yup.”

  “I’ll try to remember that Devon, thank you.”

  Shit, that’s condescending as all hell. “Oh, but don’t worry about it Rick, at least here in training. You just have to pop your suit’s face mask and let the water in, when you’re in the pool. But hold your breath because then you’re sure to sink.”

  He just sighs.

  “Well, I’m just glad that I sure won’t have the farts tomorrow, not from this dinner. I know how to balance my diet.” I give him a cute wink, I know it’s cute, I’ve practiced it.

  First thing in the morning they run us as a unit to get NASA flight suits. Mine fit nice and tightly... nice. Next we run over to a medical complex and are subjected to all kinds of strange tests. This takes the whole morning, and I hope we get to do something fun after lunch.

  There is no fun today it seems, for the rest of the afternoon we are given deep breathing tests for a couple hours with all kinds of vital checks by nurses. Then we have physical endurance tests along with all our vital signs being monitored. Tomorrow will be better I hope.

  It isn’t any better, just more exercise, all kinds. These people are crazy. Damn! Finally this day is also done, and I sleep so well. First thing the third day of training, we learn something exciting. How to don a vacuum suit; a space suit! Crap are they heavy, but they tell us they will be buoyant in the pool. I sure hope so. Rick isn’t so interested seeming any more, I must have frightened him, oh well… If he is just a frightened little boy, I don’t need him. There is so much to learn, that I am actually glad not to have any distractions. This afternoon we get to go into the kiddie pool side of the aquatic area. It is only eight feet deep here, and we have to demonstrate that we can adjust the pressure in the suit to attain a neutral buoyancy. In space we won’t have to be concerned with this, just in the pool. They also put weights on our suits to help. Tomorrow is the deep end. It is forty feet deep, quite a pool.

  The full on astronaut pool is fun! That is as soon as I figure out my buoyancy. They have a mock-up of part of the ISS down at the bottom. We don’t go in it today, but they tell us we will in a couple of days. That kind of seems daunting to me. Then next two days we swim, or rather float around in the sparkling clear pool. I like this exercise. The last day of the water sports they have us all attempt entry into the space-station mock-up, through a functioning air-lock. I do it the first try, and quickly too. Being small sized helps sometimes I guess. To exit the airlock, I have to re-enter the pool after the lock is flooded, and that is weird; chaotic almost.

  When I get out of the water, and then the cumbersome suit, they tell me I have passed this section of the course. I wonder what’s next. The following day they introduce us to ‘the whirling dervish.’ This device spins you around real fast to simulate high gravity. I puke the first ride, and that is a freaking mess! Oh god, it is all over my face and in my hair. The worst thing about the experience is that Rick has a chuckle going from seeing my misery. I hope he farts in his space-suit.

  I watch as it is his turn, and he pukes even more than I did. It is simply impossible to let it go. “Oh, Mister fighter jock! Now that is a freaking mess you made on yourself! How embarrassing.” I make sure to say it good and loud as he is taken from the simulator room.

  Rick coughs up some more puke, and then he moans.

  “Oh poor fellar. I thought he would handle it fine, ain’t them fighter jocks used to high G maneuvers? I thought they was. Go figure.” I laugh at him.

  He just moans some more.

  Rick is obviously embarrassed by his performance yesterday, as he hasn’t even glanced at me all morning. Today the NASA people are teaching us basic damage control aboard a space craft. They have an amazing putty which plugs small to medium sized holes instantly, preventing air leaks. After lunch we have to endure a low atmospheric pressure test in a chamber, all of us at the same time. I don’t remember going goofy, but when they show us the video of it, I am embarrassed to beat the band. I took off my top, and was fondling myself. The guys were certainly entertained, even if they were goofy too. Everyone watches the video together and I feel Rick’s eyes now penetrating me. I ignore him.

  In the morning we are taken to a mock-up of the space shuttle, and told we are to practice our specialized skills under realistic conditions, even though there are no more real shuttles in operation. We must work as a team. I am assigned as an assistant damage control officer. Everyone else has more responsibility; pilot, co-pilot, navigator, environmental controls, and communication officer. Rick is the pilot and we see a computer image of planet earth as we orbit. The scenario is to dock with the ISS, and deliver supplies. Everyone is busy besides me, and I just enjoy the radio talk. Suddenly there is a loud ‘thunk’ on the hull, followed by the hiss of air escaping. I un-buckle and jump over to where the hissing noise is. I have a bunch of the sealing putty on me and I locate the leak. My head starts to get light… just like in the chamber. Hurry. The putty has to seal… the hissing stops, and my head still swims. I hear more hissing.

  “Another leak!” I yell.

  “Negative Devon; that is air being added to bring the pressure back up.” Rick says in the intercom. “Good job on sealing that leak astronaut Stanley.

  “Affirmative!” I laugh.

  A few minutes later a huge impact jars the hull,
and the air began to escape rapidly. I can’t even begin to seal it, and neither can the DC officer. We go to helmets closed and sealed to breathe suit air. Adjusting the pressure to match the new vacuum environment is tricky, and I have to help my DC officer to do this on his suit. He gives me thumbs up as we get it right. Then Rick expertly docks the simulated shuttle craft, and we all depart the stricken craft into a non-pressurized airlock on the mock-station, where we endure the pressurization procedure in the lock.

  Now I truly feel confident that I can at least operate somewhat in space. Maybe this is more of a confidence builder than anything, but it seems to work. I sure hope I am going to the ISS, so I can hang out a while in space, checking things out.

  Two more days in the shuttle simulator, and then we learn the ISS protocol and damage control basics. This is the second to last day of the course, for me anyhow. An FBI agent met me this afternoon, and gave me my orders, and itinerary. I leave for Las Vegas the second morning following, and there is supposed to be a contact to meet me, holding a sign reading ‘Samantha Stuart.’ I guess this is my code name.

  My last day is only a half a day training on an EVA simulator. Again a very fun exercise, and then I don’t see Rick before I leave. I wish I had, just to tease him again by hollering ‘Idaho’, that was fun. My flight is crowded with party people heading to party city. It is fairly long, and I am glad to get off the plane. Sure enough I meet my escort with the sign. She says her name is agent Carol and she leads me to a car in the large garage at the airport.

  “Where are we headed agent?” I want to know.

  “I am to escort you to another terminal close by. That’s all I …”

  “Hey! Give me your money bitches!” A dirty mean looking guy has a knife!

  “Sure man.” She says calmly.

  “You too!” He menaces at me.

  Agent Carol suddenly spins a hooking reverse kick into his throat, and he goes down.

  I kneel and check him after he doesn’t move. “Doesn’t look like he can breathe.” I say after a second or two.