by John Olson
She wouldn’t be getting any more personal attention from Bob Kaganovski. And once he reported back to Dr. Perez, she’d be on the next plane back to Alaska.
* * *
Saturday, August 25, Year One, 9:30 A.M.
Bob
Bob shifted his weight, flexing his calves to keep from passing out on the hot stage. Nate’s welcome speech was taking forever. A huge crowd had assembled on the rec field to watch the Ares 10 crew demo the Martian Rover. Bob scanned the glistening faces. Of course she wouldn’t be here. He hadn’t even mentioned the demo. And after his spectacular foul-up last night, he’d be lucky if Valkerie ever spoke to him again. She certainly wouldn’t have braved the 103-degree heat to watch him ride around in an air-conditioned Mars buggy.
Nate finally got around to introducing the crew. Bob waved to the crowd and did his best imitation of a sincere smile. Where could she be? He’d called her hotel room, the astronaut offices, the gym ... Nobody even knew her schedule. They were all too busy with the Johnson Space Center Open House. The campus was boiling with tourists. It was insane. He’d been forced to park on the street and run half a mile to make it to the demo on time.
Kennedy Hampton leaned over and whispered in Bob’s ear. “You look like you could use a stiff dose of antifreeze. Wanna help me warm up the Rover’s air conditioning?”
Bob shrugged. Anything to get off the stage.
Kennedy stepped forward and waved to the cheering crowd, then leaped off the stage, setting off a chorus of excited squeals.
Bob walked over to the side and took the stairs. Fighter pilots. Everything was a competition. Kennedy seemed to take Josh’s popularity as a personal challenge. Like a down-in-the-polls politician, he never passed up an opportunity to grandstand. Bob waited inside the roped-off area for Kennedy.
A peloton of women clung to Kennedy as he pushed his way through the milling crowd. Finally he arrived.
Bob followed him to the Rover. Women. Kennedy threw himself into the chase as if it were an Olympic event. Fine, let him. If that was the game, Kennedy could have the gold, silver, and bronze.
Kennedy opened the airlock door in the side of the mammoth six-ton, eight-wheeled Rover.
Bob leaped up the steps into the cool interior.
Kennedy followed him in and shut the door. “Okay, what gives, Kaggo?”
Bob plopped down into one of the rear seats and peered through the darkened glass at the crowd outside. “They’re expecting us to show off the Rover.”
“Not until you spill. Josh said your date last night was hot.” Kennedy sat down on the bench across from Bob.
“It wasn’t even a date. She’s new in town, and I was just showing her around.”
“And I’m sure she begged you to take her to the Outpost, seeing that it’s such a well-known landmark.”
Bob shrugged. “She’s interested in NASA, and I thought she might appreciate the history.”
Kennedy grinned. “Yeah, right. The Outpost is very historical. Come on, admit it. You were bringing her home to meet the family. You wanted to get Papa Kennedy’s approval.”
“Your approval? I’ve known her for all of about three days. We didn’t even hit it off.”
The airlock door opened, and Lex and Josh climbed into the Rover.
“Okay, Hampster. You’re the pilot.” Josh slid along the bench to sit beside Bob. “Pilot away.”
“We’re talking. Bob’s worried I’m not going to approve of his new girlfriend.”
Lex plopped down next to Kennedy. “Okay, Bob, spill!” She fixed him with an expectant look.
Oh, for crying out loud, not Lex too. “Come on, guys, the people are going to think something’s wrong with the Rover. Let’s get this show off the road.”
“Hampster?” Josh motioned forward to the driver’s seat.
Kennedy growled. “Come on. Y’all at least got to meet her. I’m in the cold here.”
Josh turned to Lex. “You’re the backup pilot.”
Lex shook her head adamantly.
“Okay, I’ll drive.” Bob stood up.
Josh and Kennedy pushed him back down.
Kennedy shot a pleading look at Lex.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be the martyr.” Lex went forward and climbed into the driver’s seat with a grin. “But if you guys don’t talk so I can hear, I’ll crawl back there and throttle you.” She started the Rover and drove it toward the field of rocks the grounds crew had brought in for the show.
Kennedy and Josh looked at Bob.
“Come on, guys. Lighten up. It was no big deal. Valkerie seemed lonely, so I offered to show her the sights.”
“I’ll bet you did.” Kennedy smirked. “What sights did you show her?”
Bob pressed his palms against his eyes. Good grief, they weren’t going to quit badgering him until he’d told them the last putrid detail. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I was really interested in this girl, but I blew it, okay? Another disaster for Kaggo. A foul-up of epic proportions. Satisfied?”
Josh’s face softened. Kennedy reached across the aisle and whacked him on the shoulder. “As bad as that Melissa woman?”
“Worse. She walked out on me. I had to insist on driving her, or she’d have walked back to her hotel.”
The Rover reached the field of rocks. Lex slowed down and let the beast show off its eight-wheel independent suspension.
“She must be nutso. Unbalanced.” Josh stood up and grabbed an overhead bar. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay, Kaggo? She’s the one with the problem.”
“No, it was my fault. I deserved it.”
Kennedy snorted. “You’re just out of practice. It takes a little time, that’s all. You probably started putting the move on too early.”
Bob shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“If you guys don’t talk louder, I’m going to start spinning donuts!” Lex shouted from the front. “Remember, Hampster. Nate thinks you’re driving.”
“So what happened?” Kennedy shouted at the driver’s seat.
“We started ...” Bob looked down at his feet. “I started talking about religion. I guess I was trying too hard to distance myself from … you know, that stupid tabloid article, but I ended up hurting her feelings—bad. I feel like scum.”
Josh laughed. “What is she, a Buddhist or something?”
Bob shook his head. “Not sure exactly. But definitely a born-again.”
“So what’s the problem?” Josh asked. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
Kennedy grinned. “You don’t get it, Josh. Women don’t like choirboys—not even the choirgirls.”
“So is she one of those protestor types?” Lex hollered. “Fresh off the fundie farm?”
“Not exactly,” Bob said. “But something I said really offended her. It was my bad.”
Kennedy thumped him on the shoulder. “Sounds like it’s her problem, not yours. You can do better than that. I know plenty of women who would love to go out with you. Real women. Not one of those all-show, no-go sadists you’re always chasing. How about tonight? I could set something up for dinner.”
“Forget it,” Lex shouted. “Kaggo’s too classy for your ilk. Bob, you need a lady of quality. I’ve got a friend who would be perfect for you.”
Bob shook his head. “Thanks, guys, but—”
“I bet things aren’t as bad with Valkerie as you think,” Josh said. “Are you sure you aren’t being too hard on yourself?”
“If anything, I’m being too easy. I was a jerk.”
“Maybe if you talked to her. Apologized. You could work things out.”
“Assuming I wanted to work things out.”
“Are you crazy? A girl like that could scratch my eyes out, and I’d still—”
The Rover ran up and over a huge rock. The entire frame tilted hard to the right.
“Take it easy, Lex!” Josh sat back down next to Bob.
“Talk louder, or you’re gonna get more of the same.”
“You heard the boss.” Josh nodded at Bob.
“Valkerie and I are at totally different ends of the spectrum,” Bob called out. “It could never work in a million years.”
“You don’t know that!” The Rover jerked to a stop. Lex turned in the driver’s seat and looked back at Bob with fire in her eyes. “You can’t just give up without trying. I saw the way you were looking at her last night. And I saw the way she was looking at you. You want to wonder the rest of your life what would have happened if? Talk to her. Tell her what you’re feeling. Maybe she’s not as wacko as you think.”
“No, I know what she is. Close enough anyway. I’ve been down this road before, and it doesn’t lead anywhere good.” Bob searched his friends’ faces. “Guys, this is ridiculous. I know I don’t get out much, but I can tell when a relationship isn’t going to work. Believe me, this is one of those times.”
“All right. Fair enough.” Josh shrugged. “But she seemed pretty nice to me.”
“I’m not saying she’s not nice. It’s just that ...”
“Just that what?” Lex strode back toward them. “You’re always shooting yourself in the foot. What are you so afraid of?”
“Not afraid. Cautious. Trust me. I know her type. I have all the reasons in the world to be cautious with born-agains.”
Bob stood up. The Rover had grown uncomfortably quiet. “Come on! Let’s drive over some more rocks.” He turned and looked out the window at the crowd, searching through the faces for ...
Good grief. What was it with him? He was such a moron. Hadn’t he learned anything after Sarah?
Let it go, Kaggo. From now on you’re thinking with your head. Your heart’s never given you anything but trouble.
Chapter Five
Monday, August 27, Year One, 5:00 A.M.
Valkerie
THE VOMIT COMET—NOT THE world’s most reassuring name for an airplane. Valkerie patted the thigh pocket of her olive green flight suit. Two genuine NASA barf bags lay inside. Of the twenty-plus pieces of equipment she carried in the thirteen pockets of her flight suit, the barf bags were the most accessible. Apparently they were the most likely items she would use.
She turned to search the faces of the three men sitting against the wall behind her: Nate Harrington, Dr. Abrams, and a green-suited trainer. Abrams looked mad enough to spit blood. Valkerie wondered when Harrington had sprung the flight on him. He had called her at 4:00 A.M. with the “good news.” The 3:00 P.M. flight with the ASCAN class was canceled, but if he was lucky, he could get the KC-135 at 5:00 A.M. What a thoughtful guy. With judges like him, who needed a jury?
Valkerie looked up at the timer at the front of the padded bay. They’d go parabolic in five minutes. She scanned the stack of cards tucked into the plastic sheath of her sleeve. Harrington wasn’t giving her any slack time. She’d have thirty seconds of weightlessness to free float, somersault, and walk down a patch of Velcro on the plane’s ceiling. Then after pulling some heavy gees at the bottom of the sine wave, the whole thing would start over again. She flipped through the cards. Forty cycles in all, and every one of them was a different test. Why even bother to try? Harrington had designed the whole thing to make sure she’d fail. She had talked to an ASCAN in the cafeteria, and he told her that his class didn’t even have tests. To him, the Vomit Comet had been something they did for fun. Right, some fun.
Valkerie forced down the anger rising in her chest. She certainly hadn’t been making many friends in Houston. Nate Harrington was willing to schedule a private flight just to get her out of the program. And Bob Kaganovski. Who knew what he must think of her? After the way she had treated him? His uncertain smile burned in her memory, making her sick to her stomach. She had been so unfair. It was worse than kicking a puppy.
A million butterflies began flapping in her stomach. What was happening? The plane wasn’t supposed to dive for three more minutes. She felt a sharp rap on her shoulder.
A man stood upside down on the ceiling above her. The trainer in the flight suit. “You’re upside down, astronaut. I want you on the ceiling standing in front of me—now!”
Valkerie looked up at the timer. Twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six ... Of all the cheap tricks. She unclasped her seat belt and started to stand but thought better of it just in time. Curling her knees to her chest, she thrust her feet upward and pushed off with her hands. She hit the ceiling harder than she expected and rebounded. Arms flailing, body twisting, world spinning, she fell slowly through space, hitting her back on the padded floor of the plane.
Before she could bounce off, she thrust her feet upward again, but this time more gently. The force of her kick sent her twisting toward the ceiling. She absorbed the impact with bent knees and planted her feet firmly on the Velcro strip.
Straightening her body, she swung around to face the trainer. Her universe inverted itself, and she and the trainer were right side up in a world turned upside down.
“How do you feel? Nauseous? Light-headed? Disoriented?”
Valkerie shook her head warily.
He tossed a ball to her. She reached out a hand to catch it, making a last-second adjustment when she realized it wasn’t going to arc back down. Down no longer had any meaning.
“Back somersault. Right now!”
Valkerie kicked free of the Velcro and tucked into a tight backward roll. After two rotations, she opened out her body and rebounded off the floor to spin back up onto the ceiling. “This is so cool! Can I do another one?”
A beep sounded, and Valkerie fell softly to the padded floor of the bay. The gees built up quickly as the KC-135 pulled out of its dive. She struggled into her seat and waited for the next dive. So far so good.
After half an hour of testing, using every dirty trick Valkerie could imagine, the trainer turned to the rear of the plane. Harrington scowled, shook his head, and turned his thumb down. Abrams looked as if he was about to be sick.
“The flight’s over,” the trainer said.
“Why?” Valkerie turned on Harrington. “We were supposed to do another thirty runs.”
“It’s clear to me that you’re going to pass the test. I don’t want to waste your time.”
“Waste my time? None of the other ASCANs even had to take tests. The Vomit Comet was supposed to be fun.”
“None of the other ASCANs applied four months late. You’ve missed a lot of training. It’s only natural that you need to work an accelerated schedule. As soon as we land I’ve scheduled you for two hours of physical training, followed by—”
“Physical training!” Valkerie wanted to shriek.
“Is something wrong?”
Nothing except that I’m exhausted. “Um, not really.”
“If you can’t hack it, just say so.”
“I can hack it.”
“Good. And after PT, Perez has you on console at SES.”
“SES?”
“Systems Engineering Simulators. Building 16. It’s all here on your revised schedule.” Nate patted a manila folder on his lap. “I hope you appreciate this. Perez had to bump Bob Kaganovski to get you a slot.”
“Thanks.” Valkerie bit her lip to keep from screaming. All Bob needed was another reason to hate her.
* * *
Monday, August 27, Year One, 9:00 A.M.
Bob
Bob groaned as he stepped out of his Mustang. It was already 9:03 A.M. An overturned tanker had cost him the two most productive hours of his day. He hurried through the parking lot toward Building 29. A limo cruised by him and stopped outside the building. Probably a Congress-critter doing a little fact-finding mission on the taxpayers’ nickel. The driver popped out, came around, and opened the door.
Kennedy Hampton stepped out. “Thanks a lot, Senator!”
A jowly man in a business suit sat inside. Bob’s jaw fell open. “Hacksaw” Axton himself. The guy was bad news for any kind of science program. He made Proxmire and his bozo Golden Fleece Award seem like the good old days. Why was the Hampster hobnobbing
with a jerk like Axton?
Bob hurried toward Building 29. He’d almost reached it when he heard a shout.
“Hey, Kaggo, wait up!” Kennedy strode up, shaking his head. “You missed a chance to talk to Axton.”
“I’ve got nothing to say to guys like him.” Bob opened the door. What in the world?
“Mornin’, Dr. Kaganovski, Commander Hampton,” said the security guard.
“Good morning, Shane.” Bob raised an eyebrow at the brand-spanking-new X-ray machine. “Planning on starting an airport?”
Shane grinned at him. “New rules. Just came down from The Man. No big deal. Just put your briefcases here and walk on through the metal detector.”
Bob put his briefcase on the conveyor and stepped through the white arch. No beeps. Bob grinned back at Kennedy. “Guess it didn’t notice the M1 battle tank in my back pocket.”
Kennedy followed him through. “Kaggo, listen, you need to learn to deal with these politicals, okay? They pay our salaries—”
“Yeah? Well, last time I checked, I pay their salaries too.” Bob walked with Kennedy toward the Hab bay. A security guard stood outside the door. Huh? Did they think someone was going to walk off with the Hab?
“Can I ask you something?” Kennedy followed Bob into the bay. He didn’t seem that surprised by the new guard. “How’d things go with the flight docs a couple weeks ago?”
“Lousy.” Bob threw his briefcase on a desk and logged on to a workstation. “They wanted my hide, and I served it to them with a parsley garnish.”
“Bob, something’s coming down. Axton’s not talking, and Nate is twitchier than a hound dog on a coon hunt.”
“It’s me,” Bob said. “If you threw me overboard, the storms would magically calm down. I guarantee it.”
Kennedy studied Bob with a puzzled expression. “You really are paranoid, know that?”
“Where did you hear that? From Hartmann?”
Kennedy laughed and disappeared into the Hab. “I’ve got news for you, bud. It ain’t exactly a well-guarded secret.”