And while theoretical knowledge was fine for the classroom, Buton had secretly harbored a desire to test himself against the vastness of space. This was the perfect opportunity.
Additionally, Jarod spent the money. It was gone. Mourning its loss was the idiomatic equivalent of crying over spilled milk, an activity Buton could not condone. It was time to move forward with a choice that they had all made already. He broke the lingering silence. “I’ll run quick diagnostics on the computers and make sure our equipment can integrate.”
Buton’s gaze went to Cleo, whose furrowed brow clearly stated that she was not ready to give in at this point. Having seen the futility of further arguing, Buton looked for another answer. How did others deal with similar situations?
A glimmer of an idea came to him. A roguish smile always seemed to work for Jarod. Perhaps it would do the same for Buton. The idea felt ludicrous, but nothing of more worth was forthcoming. He locked eyes with Cleo, stretching muscles unused to the effort, into what he hoped was a good approximation of a grin.
Cleo kept up her glare a few beats longer before Buton could see the corners of her mouth twitch upward. Fascinating. This was actually working. Cleo huffed and hid her mouth behind her hand. “Then I guess I’ll check the medical facilities.” She glanced at the misshapen form in front of them, and then gave Jarod a wry look. “From the way this ship looks, something tells me we’re gonna need it.”
Buton watched Cleo’s retreating form moving toward the ship with a mixture of relief that she had decided to go with them—and another feeling he could not quite identify. It was, however, quite pleasurable.
Rob ran off toward the ship, his prosthetic “feet” kicking up dust. He called over his shoulder, “I’m checking out the cockpit!”
Buton moved in the boy’s wake, the warmth in his face not fully attributable to the heat of the sun in the Texas sky.
* * *
Jarod jumped into the copilot’s seat, glancing over at the little man running through his launch prep and muttering to himself. Simon flicked a look at Jarod and held out his hand. “My fee?”
He winced and inhaled through his teeth. This was physically painful. Quite a bit more than he had thought it would be. So many memories were wrapped up in that car. So many memories were inside that car, come to think of it. And to just hand it over…
Jarod plopped the keys into the small man’s hand, using more force than he had intended. Simon wrung his hand in pain, the grin plastered on his face belying any real damage to his appendage. Jarod couldn’t keep the pout off his face, or out of his voice, for that matter. “Crew’s just about ready…”
Simon huffed. “What are they waiting for?” He thought for a moment, and then muttered out of the side of his mouth, “Maybe they want to check a urine sample?”
“I wouldn’t put the idea in her head,” Jarod mumbled back. Then, glancing over his shoulder as Cleo popped her head into the cockpit, he said, “Speak of the devil.”
Cleo gave him a smirk with no real humor in it. Her tone was two degrees above zero. Absolute zero. “The supplies are stowed. Everyone’s strapped in…” She trailed off, looking around the cabin. Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s the copilot? Regulations say that there has to be a certified copilot.”
Simon snorted and rolled his eyes. Jarod swallowed, and then raised his hand with a certain amount of trepidation. “That’d be me.” He did his best to sound apologetic. He was pretty sure it wasn’t working.
“You?” Her eyebrows crawled up her forehead. “You can fly a mean twin-engine, Jarod, but this…” She waved her arm around the cockpit, missing Simon’s head by less than a millimeter. “This is way over your head.”
“I passed the test yesterday…” The intensified glare from Cleo forced out the rest of the admission. “…with Simon’s help.” He flipped a few buttons, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. “Hey, I’m as legal as anyone.”
Cleo looked like she was beyond ready to blow her stack. Twice. “How many other surprises are you going to spring on us? What else don’t we know?” She huffed, and then drove her point home even further. “How many times am I going to ask that question before we’re done?”
Simon broke in to their argument with some sharpness. “Look. We’ve got a five- minute launch window. If we’re leaving today, I need everyone strapped in.”
Cleo continued to glare at Jarod, as if she were trying to bore through him with her eyes. The moment dragged on, and Jarod squirmed. “Cleo?”
She held his gaze for another long and uncomfortable moment before finally relenting. “Fine.” Jarod knew that tone well. She was anything but fine, and space couldn’t be much colder than the air Cleo was leaving behind as she stalked away.
Simon raised his eyebrows at Jarod, nodding toward Cleo’s retreating back. Jarod just set his jaw and glared at the controls in front of him. The little man chuckled at Jarod’s refusal to answer the implied question, and then spoke into his headset as he revved the engine. His voice echoed through the ship. “Hold on, everybody. If it isn’t glued down, kiss it good-bye!”
As Jarod’s stomach dropped out through the bottom of his feet, he thought that might be excellent advice.
* * *
Rob drummed his fingers against his armrest. He wasn’t nervous…okay, maybe he was a little nervous, but who wouldn’t be nervous to go into space in this piece of shiz? This feeling was like right before the roller coaster started moving, or the second right before stepping off the high dive.
This was going to be epic. As long as the Eureka held together.
As he sank back into his seat, Rob checked all of the straps that held him in one more time. The pilot Simon had told them to get ready, and Rob wanted to be more than ready.
And how cool was it that their pilot was a midget? Wait. He was supposed to say dwarf, right? No. Little person. That’s what it was. Uncle Jare used to tease him about the time that his dad had been managing apartments during a long hiatus in treasure hunting. One of their tenants had been a little person, and apparently a very young Rob had asked the man where his mom lived and why he could drive a car and Rob couldn’t.
Rob’s thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like some kind of click, followed by a whine and a groan. Then there was a click with a hum and a clank. Rob craned his neck forward to see what was happening.
Simon called out from the front, “Hold on, everybody! This happens all the time. No problem.”
That couldn’t be good.
A flurry of whacks and bangs interspersed with swear words filtered back to the hold. Then there was another click—followed by a whoosh and a roar. The entire ship vibrated. Rob could feel his teeth buzzing against each other, the humming resonating in his skull.
In addition to the vibrating, a very disturbing rattle was mixed in with the liftoff soundtrack. Rob thought he heard something break off the ship and tumble to the ground, but with all the other noise, there was no way to be sure. Oh, well, they’d find out soon enough, he guessed.
He turned his head to look out the port window in time to see flame burst out all around them. All was red and orange and yellow swirls and jets and fingers as the fire seemed to be doing what it could to crawl inside the ship with them. It licked the wall of crushed cars, melting them into a bizarre automotive Rorschach test. Rob was sure he could almost feel the heat from the jets. Like under his seat.
And then the ship started to rise. At first, it was only a few inches. As if the Eureka wasn’t quite ready to leave this world.
“Come on,” Simon growled up front. “Let’s go.”
Rob strained to see past the flames to the problem. Then he found it. The supporting struts. They were still firmly attached to the ship. Great. Everything was more than happy to fall off, but not the struts.
He didn’t know much about rocket launches, but he did know the ship’s hull could only take so much heat for so long. If those struts did not let go, they all might just fry right here,
in the middle of a junkyard.
Not cool.
Then the struts sprang open, and the Eureka surged forward like the best damn roller coaster ever. Rob felt as if his chest had been shoved into his back. Gravity pulled at his body, pushing the breath from his lungs, holding his arms and legs in place, pulling his face back like some kind of bizarre plastic surgery.
What had been a tiny wire poking him in the back before now threatened to pierce his spine. He tried to shift around to avoid it, but failed miserably. The g’s had him in their thrall.
Still, Rob could not keep the grin off his face.
The only thing he could do was turn his head to watch their “launchpad” consume itself in fire. Most of the flammable items were simply dust, but anything plastic blended in with almost Burning Man-like statue created by the stacked cars, which glowed fiercely. The highest burned a blinding white. Those farther away appeared a duller red. From the way the rocket blast hit the earth, it looked almost like the very dust from the yard was aflame.
Rob had never seen anything like it before. He was pretty certain he wouldn’t see much like it ever again.
The site grew smaller and smaller as their ship arrowed up into the sky. The launchpad was now a tiny dot still afire, while the rest of the sprawling junkyard mimicked a blazing maze. It was like one of those cornfield labyrinths, only made of trash.
Then the entire yard became a distant speck beneath them as the Eureka entered the clouds. Up and up, higher and higher. Rob had more experience than most adults regarding what lay below. He had gone down into the depths of the ocean more times than he could count. But other than the occasional commercial flight, he didn’t know much about being up above. And he had never gotten up this high before.
The sky took on a darker hue as their ship streaked toward the upper atmosphere. Rob felt his gut clench with excitement as they neared the border of space. The ship lurched as the solid rocket boosters detached. Rob watched as the small side accelerators took the boosters out to the side of the Eureka before they spiraled down toward the distant ocean. At least this relic wasn’t one of the old three-stagers. This thing might be old, but it wasn’t forty years old. That was a good thing, right?
Looking around at his crewmates, Rob saw reactions etched on their faces. Cleo was worried…big shocker there. Cleo was always worried. Rob guessed that visions of the ship disintegrating around them were dancing through her mind. No sugarplum fairies for her on this flight.
Buton, robbed of his laptop during the launch, had the look of someone trying to raise polynomial equations to the power of seven. Come to think of it, that was probably the exact thing that Buton was doing. Anything but actually experiencing the g’s of this awesome launch. The guy was wicked smart and totally cool in his own weird Gandhi-type way, but Buton didn’t know how to just cut loose and have fun.
Then the spaceship popped out of the atmosphere like a cork out of a wine bottle.
There! They had made it past the Earth’s atmosphere, and no one was dead. Rob felt the drag of gravity loose its grip on his body just as the bluish view out the window turned to velvety blackness dotted with points of bright light.
“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore…”
As Rob unbuckled his multiple seat belts and propelled himself into the air, Jarod’s voice reverberated throughout the hold. There seemed to be more than a little relief in his uncle’s voice.
“Thank you for choosing Ramshackle Flights for your space travel needs…”
Rob bounced off the ceiling and whooped. “This is awesome!”
No one responded.
“We’re actually in space! All right!” He tried to high-five Buton on his way past, but first off, he missed the angle, and then Buton was about three seconds too slow. So instead of a high-five, he almost got a smack in the face. Even that wasn’t enough to dampen his enthusiasm. He careened off the nearest wall.
Rob hated to admit it, but being in space was even cooler than being underwater.
* * *
Cleo watched Rob’s zero-gravity antics and bit her tongue. She was sure that he was going to bash into some sharp corner somewhere and that she’d have to stitch him up, but Rob wasn’t going to take kindly to her hijacking his fun.
Besides, he really was enjoying himself. Cleo couldn’t help but smile as he pushed off from another wall and zipped straight for Buton’s head for a second time. Buton diverted him without even looking up from the scientific journal he was reading on his wrist-tablet. If it weren’t for the lack of gravity, they might almost be back on the Rogues’ Gamble.
Jarod’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers once more, mocking an über-calm pilot’s voice. “If you’d all be so kind as to look out your port window…”
Buton smirked. “It seems our esteemed captain now fancies himself a tour—”
Cleo heard Buton cut himself off as his gaze found the window. She propelled herself over to his side, and found herself struck equally as dumb. The glowing blue-and- milk swirls of their home planet filled the tiny widow. There was a moment of reverent awe as they all breathed in the beauty of the Earth, a precious jewel that they had never seen from this perspective.
Rob breathed out in what almost sounded like a prayer. “Oh, mama!”
Cleo completely understood. All the irritation of getting out here in this tub vanished as the reflected radiance of the Earth’s surface suffused her face.
Even through the clouds of the weather patterns on the face of the globe, Cleo could pick out continents and oceans. She saw the American continents, the bottom of the North Pole, and the bulk of the South Pole. The wide stretch of the Atlantic was laid out to her view, as well as a strip of Africa.
As she peered more closely, she saw the darker area that was the Tongue of the Ocean. Somewhere down at the bottom of that sucker, the remains of the Rogues’ Gamble lay. As well as the shipwreck that started this whole crazy adventure.
Looking from this far above, the ocean was the same deep blue of an expensive sapphire. Hard to remember while up here how much life teemed below the surface. Cleo knew that life intimately, even better sometimes than she felt like she knew her own. So much training and experience had gone into learning all that she knew about that blue jewel-like surface down there.
What was she doing up here? She was a marine biologist. She belonged down there in that blue, swimming with its life, drinking in the multitude of colors there. Instead, it was this blue and white…and cold…ball. It was beautiful, stunning really. Cleo felt small and humbled.
She also felt more than a little useless.
* * *
Buton puzzled over his reaction to the view of the Earth from space. His mind had done what his mind always did—which was to quantify. It was a process so ingrained in him that, more often than not, he was unaware of it. The difference this time came in the disparity of his intellectual response and a more visceral one. Buton observed the analysis happening in the background, but he could not explain the more powerful feeling of expansion in his bosom. He grappled with a sudden urge to reach out and hold Cleo’s hand.
It felt amazing. It left Buton feeling more than a little disturbed.
Simon’s voice called out to the crew over the intercom. “Artificial grav should be coming online soon. It’s just taking a while for the sucker to warm up. Sorry, guys!”
The window’s perspective shifted as the Eureka came about, everyone’s view of the planet changed to one of garish lights competing with one another. The space station swam into view like some interstellar peacock, all bright feathers and raucous voice.
The space station spun around its own axis, which had been painted in what looked like a glossy black finish. The singular effect was one that made the center of the station almost disappear, while reflecting the multitude of lights surrounding it. It looked as if the station were revolving around miniature stars and comets, trapped in their gravitational pull. Buton squinted against the glare, trying to
make out the contours of the station in front of him, his eyes struggling to adjust.
Advertisements for everything from top-of-the-line spacesuits to vacuums to space-rated condoms blinked and flashed, interspersed with bizarre anime figures waving and encouraging them to buy, buy, buy. Buton again found himself disturbed, but for a far different reason. His stomach roiled as his mind tried to find an up and down orientation where there was none to be found.
Buton had heard rumors that some of the creators of this private venture hailed from Vegas, the other half from Disney. Watching the display in front of him, he was inclined to believe it.
One of the spaceships careened too close to one of the rotating arms, avoiding disaster only at the last moment. Lights and alarms blared while two polite-looking security cruisers in bright colors flanked both sides of the offending vehicle. The ship was escorted off to the far side of the station, where Buton could not see the resulting action.
Okay, maybe a little less Disneyland, a little more Euro Disney.
This station might look like it was all lip gloss, but there were teeth behind its pretty smile. Buton reminded himself to warn Jarod of that before he visited the bar or casino. Thinking further, Buton decided to alert Cleo instead. That would ultimately do far more good.
This could be an interesting layover.
* * *
Rob was getting the hang of this whole zero-gravity thing. He pushed off from another wall and zoomed across the hold toward the window for a look at the station. Then the artificial gravity kicked in.
Simon’s voice floated back to them. “Hey, guys. I got the grav to work.”
Yeah, Simon. Thanks for that one.
From his quite different and much more painful perspective on the floor, Rob watched his crewmates observing the insanity of the international space station. Ships arced in and out in intricate patterns, creating a tapestry to give the Mad Hatter a run for his money. Buton spun away from the viewport, his face a vivid green beneath his dusky skin tone. “I think I am going to be ill.”
Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) Page 29