Arco finally said something. He leaned close and in a surprisingly deep voice said, “Mike took lessons to learn to dance like that.”
Ell looked at Arco, eyebrows up again. “Do you swing dance?”
He nodded.
Ell tilted her head at the dance floor, lifting one eyebrow in question.
Arco shrugged and started out to the floor, taking Ell’s right hand in his left. When they reached the floor he pulled Ell under his arm to twirl her onto the floor. Ell misjudged the width of her “fat pants’” hips and they had a little “butt collision” as she twirled under. Arco carefully led her through some more turns, then cuddles. He was a good dancer though and Ell thoroughly enjoyed it.
Eventually they stumbled out of the club and went for a 2AM “breakfast” at Centro, an old Mexican food place a couple of blocks from where they’d been dancing. Mike and Emma carried on a spirited conversation during the walk over but Arco said nothing. Once they had a booth at Centro, Mike said, “So what do you girls do for a living?”
Emma laughed and put a hand to her hair, fluffing it, “I’m a fashion model.”
Mike’s eyes widened, “Really?!”
“No silly! You have to be at least five-eight, like Ell-en there.” she pointed to Ell making a little grimace at her in apology for almost using her real name. “I’m only five-four.”
Ell said, “Yeah, I’d be a fashion model if only I was as thin as Emma.” She rolled her eyes.
“So seriously, what do you do?”
Emma said, “I waitress and take a few classes.”
Ell said, “I work for a company out in RTP, what do you guys do?”
“We work for SAS. It’s in RTP too. I’m a statistician and Arco there, he’s a programmer.” He grinned, “Hard to get anything done with him in the next cubicle, talking all the time!”
“Really?” Ell said, looking at Arco and trying to imagine him speaking entire sentences.”
“No!” Mike laughed. “Though when you get to know him he does occasionally speak spontaneously. When you google ‘introvert’ his picture comes up”
Ell snuck another glance at Arco who was blushing and staring at the table. “Well, he’s a great dancer! That doesn’t seem all that introverted to me.”
Arco grinned shyly but gratefully at Ell.
The conversation migrated to other topics and they broke up to go home. In the car on the way home Emma said, “I liked Mike. What did you think of Arco?”
“He was nice. Awfully quiet though. I thought I was introverted until I met him.”
“Hah! I’ll bet that’s the last time we see ‘Ellen’ out in public!”
Ell shrugged and blushed, “Maybe.” She felt a little embarrassed to realize how much her appearance actually did mean to her. When she was Ell, she thought her attractiveness was unimportant. But when she was ‘Ellen,’ she realized that it did matter.
***
Ell grinned as she looked around the group. “Things are looking pretty good group. Let’s update everyone’s particular projects.” She turned to Braun, “Rob?”
Braun looked around, “You’ve probably all heard D5R bought an island in the Bahamas. It had a jet capable airfield for the succession of rich people who’ve owned it in the past. We’ve got two used Lear jets. One to refit as our spacecraft and one to fly back and forth to the island. We’ve been testing the integrity of the one we’re refitting and have patched a few leaks. We pumped the cabin up to two atmospheres pressure to be sure nothing would rip out or pop loose out in space. We’re flying them to the island tomorrow with the rocket engines on board ready to be installed in place of the two rear jet engines. Also, of course, a passel of attitude thrusters to use in space and the airlock connector that should hook to the Space Station. We’re taking a bunch of aircraft engineers and mechanics. We should be ready to lift off for space next week!”
Vivian looked aghast, “You’re not sending people up in an untested craft?!”
“No.” he laughed, “unmanned for the first few flights until we’re sure a window isn’t going to pop out in the vacuum.”
She frowned, “Do you have space suits?”
He shrugged, “Not like you’re thinking of probably. Nobody’s made a space suit that you can actually do much in yet. If you try to use them at full atmospheric pressure in a vacuum they’re inflated so tightly you can hardly move. To use them very well at all you have to be at a lower pressure which means you have to slowly decompress to that lower pressure to keep from getting the bends. It’s a huge hassle.”
“What do you have?”
“We’ve got ‘emergency bags.’ Essentially they’re carbon fiber bags that are shaped like jumpsuits. They have a hole your head sticks out through that can be sealed with a glass bubble in case of an emergency decompression. In such an emergency we’ll inflate them full of good old North Carolina air through a port. That port will stay open the entire time we’re in space as assurance against getting into a pocket of stale air in the ‘spacecraft.’ So in case of an emergency decompression all you have to do is shut the bubble over your head. You won’t really be able to manipulate your environment very well in it though because it’ll be blown up so hard.”
Vivian rolled her eyes, “Doesn’t sound very safe.”
Braun shrugged, “The plane shouldn’t be affected much by decompression so it can just fly you back down to earth.”
“What if it can’t?!”
He shrugged, “If it can’t, having your hands free probably won’t help you much either.”
Ell turned to Marsden.
Fred said, “Vivian and I have set up an assembly line to make ports that are ready to energize. We’ve made hundreds of the small ones, dozens of the bigger ones and we should be ready to test a ten centimeter port today now that we have the new high power lines.”
Ell narrowed her eyes at him.
He said, “Is something wrong?”
“Oh! No, I’m just worrying about people out there that may not be our friends. Let’s stockpile most of your extra ports off site in case something happens to this facility.”
Vehement exclamations rose from the group.
Ell waved her hands in a calming motion, “I’m probably just paranoid ‘cause I’ve been kidnapped a few times. But I was just thinking about what would happen if someone set this place on fire?”
Eyes widened all around the group.
Roger looked around the metal building. “It doesn’t look like it would burn.”
“It would if you turned some of the RP-1 loose in here first.”
He swallowed, “I guess it would.”
“Also,” Ell said. “Viv, lets dip the electronic modules for the ports in ‘Dexin.’” Dexin was a relatively new epoxy used to cover proprietary electronics because it was almost impossible to remove without destroying the circuits imbedded in it. It had metal shavings in it to conduct heat and frustrate x-rays.
They looked at her wide eyed.
Ell grinned at them, “I’m sure I just worry too much. Ben, what’s happening with ‘Armstrong’?”
He grinned widely, “He’s working great!”
She winked at him, “And where would Armstrong be at present?”
He waggled his eyebrows, “Orbiting the moon! Due to land at Tranquility Base in…” he looked at his watch, “forty five minutes or so… if you guys’d like to watch?”
Cheers erupted from the group.
Ell smiled at their enthusiasm. When it calmed she said, “And this afternoon at 3 we’re knocking off early for our biweekly social hour and a send off for Rob and his crew as they take off for the Bahamas!”
“Where are we going?” someone in the back said.
“I was thinking about another picnic at my little farm but, it being August, it’s pretty hot. Fred has volunteered his racquetball club where we can hang out in air conditioned comfort. He says those of us who don’t play racquetball can play ‘wallyball’ in one of the courts.”
“Volleyball in a racquetball court. You can play balls off the walls.”
***
Clarkson knocked on Dennison’s door and entered at a growled, “What?”
He unplugged his AI and waited until Dennison had unplugged his. “Donsaii. Gymnast, physicist, CEO of D5R. All the same person!”
“You’re kidding!”
Clarkson shook his head.
“Who’s funding the place?”
Clarkson shrugged, “No one seems to know. The PIs can’t find the articles of incorporation or figure out who’s on the board either.”
Dennison rolled his eyes, “Am I the only one that ever gets anything done around here? We’ve got enough trouble with the Vulcan 5 without these pipsqueaks pulling the rug out from under us! God almighty! Get out there and make things happen!”
Clarkson pressed his lips together against a retort about who’d pushed them to leap to the Vulcan 5 motor based on test stand firings without waiting for it to establish a track record on actual launches. Instead he turned and left Dennison’s office without saying anything.
Dennison jacked his AI back in, “Get me Sonny.”
***
The D5R crew gathered excitedly in the big room to watch the moon landing together on the big screens. The rocket was descending so the center screen showed black space and the four peripheral screens showed the moon at their inner edges. Brian said, “You’re bringing it down far enough away that you won’t scrub out the astronauts’ foot prints aren’t you?”
Ben’s eyes widened, “Oh! I didn’t think of that!” He grinned at Brian’s indrawn breath, “What do you think I am, some kind of idiot? Of course we’re coming down off to one side to protect those historic foot prints!”
The inner parts of the screens slowly filled with more and more of the moon. Then someone drew a breath as the Apollo 11 Lunar Module Descent Stage came into view in the top screen.
A few minutes later Armstrong had settled into place on the lunar surface. “Where’s the flag they planted? Did someone get here before us and steal it? I’ve seen it in videos.” Roger asked.
Brian said, “No it was blown over by the blast of their takeoff. Buzz Aldrin saw it happen. It wasn’t in very firm soil and was pretty close to the module. I think I see it lying down off to the side there.”
They all stared in wonderment. Fred, in a tone of reverence said, “Should we take back a souvenir?”
“Nah, it’s historic, leave everything there. But do take some photos from all sides, then grab some moon rocks and bring him home.”
“OK, but check this out.” Ben said with a waggle of his eyebrows. On the screen Armstrong’s arm came into view holding a stake with a small plaque at the top. The arm brought the sign up close enough that it could be read in the camera. “Here landed the second visitor to this desolate place. ‘Armstrong’ a robotic mission from D5R. He also ‘came in peace for all mankind.’”
A few minutes later Armstrong had planted the stake and then lifted an inch or so off the surface. It skidded slowly around the periphery of Tranquility Base getting views from all angles for the cameras. A great deal of excited talk and pointing to the various items left on the surface went on. Finally it skidded off across the surface looking for some interesting looking moon rocks to send back. The arm to gather them with as well as the port they would be sent through were both fairly small. Therefore they had to settle for pebbles that would fit, rather than some of the more interesting rocks they saw that would have been too big. The arm picked up a pebble, moved toward Armstrong and disappeared from the view of the camera. A moment later, with a clink, the rock fell into the five-gallon jar sitting on the table. It bounced a couple of times as cheers went up around the room.
Roger went over to the jar and tried to lift the port apparatus off the top of it. Ben frowned, “Roger, what are you doing?”
“I want to look at our first moon rock!”
“The port on top of that jar is connected to the moon dummy. The jar’s full of vacuum. That’s why you can’t pull the lid off. If it wasn’t for the vacuum we could just let the specimens fall on the table.”
Roger colored, “Oops! That was dumb.”
Everyone shared a little laugh at his expense. Though a number of the others had forgotten about the vacuum themselves, none of them volunteered that embarrassing information.
Armstrong continued scooting around the Moonscape picking up pebbles and sending them through the port into the jar.
Several interesting pebbles it picked up proved to be too large for the port. Ben exclaimed, “Next time Armstrong needs to take a hammer!”
“Are you going to post this video on the net?” Fred asked.
“Yeah!” A couple of the team shouted excitedly.
Feeling like a wet blanket, Ell said, “Let’s hold off a little while until we’ve done a few more of the things we want to do. I’m worried that once this goes public we’ll be completely swamped with publicity and attention. We won’t get much done once that happens.”
The group groaned in disappointment but finally agreed that it would be better to hold off until they were ready for the notice the video would bring.
Chapter Four
Dennison unjacked his AI and slid into the booth at the rear of the IHOP. The taciturn Sonny Jones was already there. Dennison wondered momentarily, as he had in the past, if “Sonny Jones” was an alias. Sonny, as usual wasn’t wearing an AI so Dennison didn’t need to ask him to unjack. In the odd accent he had cultivated for these meetings Dennison said, “We’ve got a problem suited to your unique skills.”
Sonny lifted his chin questioningly without saying anything.
“There’s a facility called D5R in the Research Triangle Park in North Carolina that supposedly is launching rockets to orbit with some new kind of technology.”
Sonny shrugged disinterestedly.
“They need to have a ‘setback.’ We need samples of the ‘tech.’”
Sonny’s eyes narrowed but still he said nothing.
Dennison waited a moment, then said, “How much?”
Sonny said, “Ten grand to look it over and price it.”
Dennison rolled his eyes but agreed. Sonny’d been worth his high prices on previous jobs.
***
Fred Marsden sat down next to Ell on one of the bleachers outside the main racquetball court at his club. That court had been converted to a “wallyball” court for D5R and a number of the researchers were enthusiastically playing that racquetball court version of volleyball. He nudged her, “How come you’re not playing?”
“Oh! I don’t think I should. I used to play volleyball in High School and I’m afraid my competitive spirit might get me in trouble in a ‘fun’ game like this one.”
He frowned, “What do you mean.”
“Well, having played volleyball competitively I’m afraid I might not ‘tone it down’ enough for a friendly game. Don’t want to spike the ball into someone’s face.”
He tilted his head. “Want to try racquetball instead?”
Ell leaned back, shaking her head.
“What, are you ‘too competitive’ at that sport too?”
Horrified that he seemed to have plucked the thought from her mind, Ell said the first thing that came to mind, “Oh, no! I just don’t know much about it.”
Marsden almost stopped chiding her because he hated playing with beginners, on the other hand he did want to put her in her place after her comment implying that she was too good for a friendly game of wallyball. “Come on. It won’t hurt you to lose a game or two.” He got up and started off to the club desk as if he expected her to follow.
Ell looked at his retreating back, then back at the wallyballers, then back toward Marsden who waved her on impatiently. With an imperceptible sigh she got up to follow him, resolving to lose quickly and graciously.
Marsden checked out a rental racquet and protective eyewear han
ding them to Ell. He removed his AI headband to put his own goggles on.
Ell removed her AI too, feeling naked without it. Normally she even slept in her headband. She put on the racquetball goggles and they stepped into the court next to the wallyball court.
Marsden quickly explained the rules and objectives then said, “We’ll hit a few balls to warm up.” He hit a nice soft shot up the middle of the court to Ell. Beginners, even fairly athletic ones, usually had a hard time placing the ball or knowing where it would be after it bounced so he was pleasantly surprised when she returned it right back down the center of the court. Her shot was too soft and barely reached the front wall. He scooped it up and hit it to her again. This time she hit it a little harder and it struck the front wall about where his had. They took turns hitting and he was happy to see that she seemed to be able to control the ball pretty well for someone who hadn’t played before.
For her part Ell was desperately wondering how she was doing. Once she had a feel for how hard to hit it the ball, the game seemed surprisingly easy. She wondered how points were to be won when the ball always went where you expected it to go.
Marsden hit one up and off the ceiling, it came down struck the back wall. He expected her to “whiff” it like most beginners would when they encountered their first ceiling shot. In fact she was pretty far out of position when the ball came down to hit the floor. But, with the startling quickness he’d seen when she was in the Olympics, she leapt to position and hit it, exclaiming, “Wow, that one wasn’t where I expected it to be!”
With amazement Marsden realized that, out of position and leaping to the ball late, she had nonetheless replicated his own ceiling shot almost perfectly. “You ready to try a game?” he said, wonderingly. How good will she be able to play? Sure she was the world’s greatest gymnast, but that’s a completely different sport isn’t it?
Rocket! An Ell Donsaii story 4 Page 16