In Mission Control, moments from darkness, Joshua struck the key, power was restored and the entire room whirred back into life.
No the least bit pleased, Tot walked to Joshua.
Apologizing he said. “We both have the same boss.”
Tot accepted the apology, the reality, and the implications of that statement.” True.”
“Locks back online. Releasing!” a technician shouted.
The Flight Controller continued the countdown. “Nine, eight seven.”
Soft to herself, Tot said, “I Hope they’re out of the way in time.”
The Flight Controller continued, “Four, three, two, one. Lift off.”
The gravity load slammed me in my seat as the rockets of the Mars transit assemblage blazing with a purpose, slowly powered the package up with increasing speed into the dark blue sky, in a fiery magnificent spectacle that was a beauty to behold.
Proud the Flight Controller announced, “We have lift off.”
The room cheered.
But, an alarm sounded, silencing them.
A technician shouted, “Anomalous reading in engine six.”
Tot concerned, standing near the Fight Controller glanced at her console. Before she could voice her thoughts the Controller acted on the same one. “Let her go.”
Her staff shut down engine six, and jettisoned it from the nest.
Again an alarm sounded and then another.
The technician announced, “Engines –“
“Let them go!!!” The Controller boomed.
Two more engines were shut down and jettisoned from the nest.
Almost afraid, Tot glanced at the Flight controller and again before she could voice her thoughts, the Controller said. “Increase the burn time to max on the remaining engines.”
Looking extremely worried, Gardner, George, Kevin and Hemmingson with his princesses stood with Selena.
Soft, Gardner said. “This is not good.”
Hemmingson unbuttoned his shirt, fished with a fury inside for something; finding it, he kissed his crucifix; and Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, medal; closed his eyes; and made a swift silent prayer, while the group watched him.
He opened his eyes to see the group still looking at him with a mélange of expressions from shocked to surprised.
“What? Because I love naked women, I don’t believe in God. He likes them too. When Eve bit the apple then hid her nudity, God got mad and threw them out of Eden. It’s in the bible read it.”
They chuckled.
Sweating profusely and in intense pain, I fought for consciousness as my nose slowly began to bleed and Mission control continued to watch me on screen.
A technician shouted. “His biometrics are off the scale. Heartbeat erratic. Breathing irregular—“
In all my launches at NASA, I had never felt like this. It was a horrible unnerving feeling. I knew I was losing the battle for consciousness, as evidenced by the rate at which my nose bleed increased, and I passed out, lifeless, mission control lost the video feed and I began to have the most incredible out of body experience.
A technician shouted, “I’ve lost him—”
The group reacted with distress to news of my death.
The technician continued. “My consoles dead.”
Another technician shouted, “I have him on secondary. Patching in.” Relieved it was the console that was dead and not me, the mood lightened a little, very little. I was still unconscious.
Video feed of me returned. The group saw I was lifeless, with no voluntary motion, my body bouncing with the buffeting of the ship.
George tried to bring optimism to the group, “His nose is bleeding. That’s good.”
Selena questioned that. “Good?”
To comfort her, George gently rubbed her upper arm. “If he were dead, his blood would not flow.”
Sad Tot corrected him, “It would. The g’s he’s under would squeeze it out of him.”
George gave Tot a look filled with subtext and a gesture that stated, “I’m trying to keep Selena from panicking.
Tot returned with one that said, “Oops. Sorry.”
A technician announced, “He’s . . . unconscious. His vitals are low.”
Hemmingson still holding his crucifix and medal said, “See. Good news.”
Selena stood repeating to herself like a mantra, “He’s still alive. He’s still alive. He’s still alive.”
And, unconscious, I hurtled to my destination as a spent rocket was ejected and another ignited. While in silence, the group looked on at video footage of me comatose, unmoving.
A technician announced, “Escape velocity reached.”
Spent rocket after spent rocket was ejected as others kicked in and I remained still and unresponsive.
With no real joy at the accomplishment, for this Ahab was riding in his “coffin life-buoy”, The Flight Controller spoke. “Ladies and Gentleman the Mars assemblage has slipped the surly bounds of Earth. She’s deep space bound.”
The assemblage jettisoned the last spent rocket, the cocoon separated and the Mars Transit Vehicle, Patricia & Catherine Luce, continued on with its unconscious human pilot.
A screen displayed the actual and projected flight paths of the MTV in green, intersected by its projected Mars transit path in blue. A brightly colored box indicated where the two paths intersected, its departure terminus.
The Controller commanded. “Light off thrusters and correct course to initial transit terminus.”
A technician keyed her computer screen repeatedly and received no response. She keyed several additional buttons and again received nothing. Frustrated and frightened, she keyed her communication pad and whispered. “Alex, I’m not getting a response.”
The Controller not seeing her words made real said, “Come on people. We do not have all day.”
The technician said, “One moment ma’am.
Alex keyed his terminal and whispered back, “I have no response either.”
The technician toggled her comm. Panel, “Madame Controller, thrusters are not responding nor are any engine systems.”
“The problem?”
“We don’t know if they’re damaged or just not receiving our signal. I’m running diagnostics.”
The Controller keyed her com panel. “Flight Control, Flight Maintenance.”
A voice responded to her. “Roger. We’ve been following the situation and have techs working every angle. Some are in route to you to troubleshoot the consoles.
“You are a god among women. But hurry, we have a small window that’s getting smaller. Out.”
Tot standing with Selena, George, Kevin, Hemmingson and his princesses and Gardner, watched their staff respond to the crisis.
Kevin asked, “What’s wrong?”
Selena asked, “What’s right?”
Tot explained the second most pressing problem, “If we don’t correct the vehicles flight path soon, it will continue following the one it’s on and never reach Mars.”
Fighting back tears, Selena added. “Or Earth.”
Very sad, Tot hugged her. “Yes.”
Inspired, George asked Tot. “Can we contact Russia and arrange a rescue?”
Tot shook her head no. “Their rockets have insufficient fuel capabilities to reach him that far out and return.”
“Then have them board, render him medical assistance, make repairs and return the ship to Earth orbit.”
“By the time one can launch, he’ll be so far away they’ll never reach him.”
In silence, everyone watched the unresponsive ship near its departure terminus . . . and then pass it.
Selena cried out loud and Tot in silence and George took them in his arms. And my ship continued further and further off course.
The crew of mission control and my friends looked on disheartened.
Earth faded behind my ship to a tiny blue speck until she was lost in the sea of stars behind her.
The retreating bed of stars
in my wake dissolved into myriads of patterns as the ship headed further and further away and gradually aged over time, its paint fading, wearing, and darkening and its surface pitting from collisions with micro-meteorites, as it began a slow trundle in all directions.
Inside, its surfaces covered with dense ice of varying thickness condensed from the moisture in the long vanquished air, the soft spectral voice of myself as a young boy from the time oh so many years ago when I decided I would go to Mars singing The Rainbow Connection floated waif like.
“Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what’s on the other side?”
An apparition, young me still singing, my Lunar Module in hand, wandered throughout the ship, dissolving into rooms, walking along walls, floors, ceilings, flying, floating or just suddenly appearing in a room and disappearing, until arriving at the bridge.
So this was death. It was so different from what I imagined. In truth, I can’t say I imagined it to be anything. I was a young boy at one of the happiest times in my life wandering through the most tragic, aware and unaware.
And as I lived my life I was alone. The aware part of me was sad and wished for a chance to undo the past, but . . .
It was a sad and liberating time. I was missing with an indescribable pain, the people I loved alive and dead. Though at this point in time everyone I knew was long dead. And like the character in Edgar Allan Poe’s M.S. In A Bottle I was hurtling towards something, something no doubt amazing, but I was both the character and the manuscript in a different kind of bottle, a rocket.
And there I was young me on the bridge of The Mars Transit Vessel, The Patricia & Catherine Luce, singing The Rainbow Connection.
“What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing?
And what do we think we might see—“
Amazed, I came to an abrupt stop, as all of a sudden I stood before the iced over form of myself as an adult, sitting in the command chair. Not knowing who the stranger was, I approached me, the adult me, with caution, a ghost boy, appearing behind me, above me, over me in a vast multitude of impossible angles.
Hovering above me, young me saw through the hazy ice the name on the space suit “Stephen Young”.
In awe, young me said, “That’s my name.”
I gazed at the faceplate of the helmet trying to see who was inside, but I was unable to do so due to the extreme icing covering old me and everything in the bridge and ship.
Young me thought deep and hard for a moment; then my lips spread with an angelic smile. My eyes lighting up like a cherub while I inhaled deep and my cheeks ballooned as I blew towards the face plate of the frozen me.
Time slowed and my warm breath billowed out in frost, changing to soft curls of silver, gradually mixing with gold, then adding reddened fiery embers, until transmuted, my young breath was a raging inferno, gaining mass and momentum consuming all including old me.
And in a psychic place far, far away, old me hearing young me sing in my young, barely audibly, spectral voice The Rainbow Connection:
“Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices?
I’ve heard them calling my name.”,
with terror and amazing speed born of horror, dressed in a space suit wearing a patch woven with Earth at it’s center and the flags of all nation’s surrounding it, in zero gravity pulled myself through a dark, dark corridor in the Mars Transit Vehicle, as a demon fueled fire, from behind, raced towards and engulfed me, just as the sirens in their two ghostly, intertwining voice called. “Stephennnnnnn. Come to meeeeeeee.”
My eyes flew open with a loud, violent gasp and my heart beat with the strength and regularity of an Olympic sprinter in stride.
The heart monitor under my image spiked, a piercing alarm sounded, and the Flight Controller said, “He’s going into cardiac arrest.”
Mission Control staff looked to see what was happening and Selena buried her head in George’s chest.
I fought with the will of a world to control my heartbeat. Self administering CPR, forcing myself to cough with extreme violence over and over until . . .
I won and my heartbeat stabilized.
Blood no longer running from my nose, I let my eyes focus and saw that I was off course and getting worse and the thrusters were offline.
George planted comforting kiss on top of Selena and Tot’s heads. “He’s back.”
Selena and Tot whirled to see me key switches and the thrusters come online.
A technician announced, “Thrusters are online.”
Mission control staff applauded.
Selena trapped in a whirl of conflicting emotions said, “I don’t know if I can take three years of this.”
Tot grinned with mischief, “He’s a man. There will always be something. Interplanetary expeditions. Work, sports, another woman.” In play, she bumped her hips against Selena and Selena playfully bumped her back.
I continued to maneuver thrusters until I received an indicator on my console. “Initial Transit Terminus Reached and locked.”
I took a moment to look through the bridges window at the beauty of the cosmos before me and in awe said, “My God—“
I removed my helmet, so that I could see the universe with my own eyes and absently wiped away the blood on my face.
I keyed my comm. button and still in awe, spoke to the folks back home. “My God, so many stars . . . I had a grand speech laid out for this occasion, but at this moment it fails me. Can you see the beauty of all this?”
Screens lit up in mission control with images of the Heaven’s from the transit vehicle’s cameras.
“I wish all of you could be here now. Selena, Tot, George, Kevin, Gardner. Hemmingson—“
Hemmingson toggled a switch. “I am with you. In a way. I left a folder online for you, “Friends”; a pretty extensive DVD collection in your quarters for backup; and lots of lube. You'll be by yourself for nearly three years. You'll need it.”
Everyone laughed.
“Ahhhh. Thanks? . . . Selena. Wear white when I return.”
Smiling, Selena placed her hand on her soft, slightly protruding belly, grinning and tearing. “Yes, Stephen, I Will.”
Tot smiled and gave her a hug. She placed her hand on Selena’s belly, grinned broader and looked her in the eyes. Unbelievably happy, Selena shook her head yes and Tot gave her an even bigger hug and whispered in her ear, “Is it mine?”
Selena blushed uncontrollably, Tot laughed and staff watching the two unaware of Tot’s joke broke out into spontaneous applause congratulating the mother to be.
Unaware I was a dad to be, I prepared to continue my mission. “I imagine right now, the US and its coalition of usurpers are scrambling to expedite the launch of our stolen Mars vehicle, so there’s only one thing left for me to do.”
I keyed a number of switches and one by one indicator lights indicated the ships drive engines were ready for ignition. “In the immortal words of Slim Pickens, in the film Dr. Strangelove “Yeeeeeeeeeeeee—“
The ground crew joined me, “HAwwwwwwwwww!”
I keyed a switch. The engines burst into life and the ship began its travel to Mars, perfectly inline with its projected flight trajectory.
Mission control burst into more applause.
Tot keyed a comm button. “God’s speed, Mr. Young. Or should I say, Dad.”
To myself, I said, “Dad?”
Mouthing “Dad”, I puzzled over Tot’s words, then broke out into an amazing grin as they beamed me video of Selena with her hand on her belly.
“Thank you, Selena.”
“Thank you, Stephen.”
I thanked Tot too. “God’s speed, aunt Tatyana.”
All of mission control sent me off ”God’s speed.”
33. Friends
And so the long lonely voyage began.
* * * * *
Two weeks into the routine of the mission, following an Extra Vehicular Activity and making the final repairs to primary and backup
systems so that the ship could be controlled from Earth if need be, dragging and down, I returned to my crew quarters to see an indicator on my com panel displaying that someone was trying to talk to me. I keyed a button and live video played on the com screen revealing Tot and Se in a tight close up, grinning at me while holding a cake with lit candles and wearing party hats.
They shouted “Happy Birthday!”
“Thanks. I’d forgotten. So how are you two?”
Selena said, “You tell us.”
The close-up pulled away to show the two of them in my YSR bedroom in negligees, Selena’s motherly belly arching below hers just a little.
“I would say that you two are doing mighty fine.”
Tot grinned, “That Lube Mr. Hemmingson gave you—“
Selena winked, “Get it.”
Together they said, “Quick.”
* * * * *
Two days later, we celebrated Valentine’s Day.
Then we started spending all our nights together. I stayed on Eden time and with the camera in my room they saw me and I with theirs saw them.
It was an unexpected discovery, I’d been so busy with Mars as a mission that I’d never thought of using the video feed for life. And I used them for life, spending as much time as I could with my loves.
* * * * *
George’s eyes sparkling, he filled me in on our second mission. “Do to an unfortunate series of events, the U.S. was not able to make the launch window with our stolen Prometheus.”
I grinned, the sparkling in my eyes matching his. “Ahhhhh, that’s too bad.”
“I’ll be the second man on Mars.”
“I’ll save you some planet.”
We laughed.
“This time we will launch the Mars Transit Vehicle and crew separately and rendezvous in space. Less stress on the crews. More power to propel the MTV with a greater margin for error. Our shuttles are conducting operational test and will be ready soon . . .”
The Man Who Sold Mars Page 13