Rocket Girls

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Rocket Girls Page 11

by Housuke Nojiri

“If he makes a fresh start in Japan, I’m willing to consider it.”

  “What are your plans once you and your father go home? There are rumors you’re considering an acting career.”

  “I intend to go back to being an ordinary teenager.”

  The journalists laughed.

  Yukari didn’t see what was so funny.

  “Any idea why your father disappeared on his honeymoon?”

  “Not really.” Yukari had expected the question, but she had never got around to deciding how she would answer it. She certainly didn’t believe that nonsense story about shamans and spirits. Had the Taliho kidnapped him? Had he run off after a fight with her mother? She couldn’t answer because she had no answer.

  “Is it possible your father has some sort of mental disorder?”

  It was possible. Why should she deny it?

  “Yes.”

  Another journalist broke in. “So Matsuri is your half sister and your backup, is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Was there any rivalry between the two of you over who would be the first to fly?”

  “None at all.”

  The journalist eyed Yukari doubtfully. “But if something were to happen to you—an injury or an illness—Matsuri would move into the first slot.” There was a time when nothing would have pleased Yukari more, but now she was prepared to do whatever she needed to do to get her father home free and clear. “If that happened, you’re telling me there wouldn’t be any animosity between the two of you?”

  “We’re not concerned with who goes first.”

  “Maybe Matsuri sees things differently.”

  “I’m not in any hurry,” said Matsuri. There was no guile in her words.

  “I couldn’t help but notice you used the word ‘first,’ Yukari. So there will be additional launches?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t there be?”

  “Of course there will,” said Director Nasuda. “Once our technology matures, we may be looking at launches every week.”

  The journalists all but ignored Director Nasuda.

  “Yukari, you gave the ship its name, Tampopo. How did you decide on that?”

  “I wanted to name it after a flower, and ‘Peach,’ ‘Sakura,’ and ‘Sunflower’ were already taken.”

  “You’ll be flying alone. Are you scared?”

  “The rocket is put together well and I’ll be in radio contact with the ground, so I’m not really worried.”

  “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you reach orbit?”

  “If there’s time, I’d like to just stare at Earth.”

  “Is that why you wanted to become an astronaut?”

  “Well…”

  Director Nasuda looked at Yukari imploringly.

  “Yes, that’s the reason,” she said.

  “When did you first realize this was what you wanted to do?”

  “Elementary school probably.”

  “What prompted this realization?”

  “Uh…” Yukari hadn’t thought that far ahead. She racked her brain, trying to remember the details of the first Japanese to ride the space shuttle. “I saw an eclipse.”

  “That must have been the total eclipse in Okinawa.” This reporter knew his astronomy.

  Sweat beaded on Yukari’s forehead. “I’m not sure. I saw it on TV.”

  “Ah, of course.” That seemed to satisfy him. “Do you plan to continue pursuing your career as an astronaut?”

  “Yes. Well, sort of. I still need to finish high school.”

  “What sort of timescale are we talking about?”

  “I need to get back before the next semester starts.”

  “That can’t be easy, leaving all this.”

  “I want as many people as possible to have the chance I have.”

  Murmurs of approval rolled through the audience.

  Yukari’s first foray into public deception was a success. And she was just getting started.

  [ACT 6]

  “DON’T EVEN THINK about it,” said Yukari.

  Matsuri stopped with her hand on the curtains. “Why?”

  “Because they have telephoto lenses pointed at our window, that’s why.”

  “Oh, right.”

  The journalists swarming across the base were doing anything and everything they could to catch a glimpse of Yukari’s and Matsuri’s personal lives. They were prohibited from entering any of the facilities on the base without authorization, including the barracks, but since the journalists themselves were housed on the base, there was nothing to prevent them lurking just outside.

  “I’m sure they’re making reports right now,” said Yukari. “The lights in their room just came on. They must be back from training. To them it’s all freedom of the press. They couldn’t care less about our privacy.”

  Matsuri picked up her hairbrush and held it like a microphone. “The people have a right to know.”

  “Yeah,” she scoffed. “Who gave them the right?”

  “Don’t ask me.”

  “Do you have any homework tonight, Matsuri?”

  “Nope.”

  “What do you say we turn in early?”

  “Good idea.”

  Yukari and Matsuri changed into their pajamas. As they were about to go to bed, their door flew open with a bang and a female reporter with a brilliant halogen halo sprang into the room. A cameraman and lightning technician stood behind her.

  “Fujimi Television’s guerrilla reporter Keiko Momoi, here. You weren’t already asleep, were you? No, of course you weren’t.” Keiko Momoi’s voice dripped with condescension.

  “Who said you could be in here?” demanded Yukari.

  “Oh, you know.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “We’re not here to talk about me. Your public wants to know about you.”

  The guerrilla interview had begun.

  Yukari appealed to the cameraman. “You wouldn’t film us like this, would you?”

  Momoi answered before the cameraman had a chance. “I think those pajamas are darling. Did you pick them out yourself?”

  Yukari felt drained. The media was only interested in fluff, trivia. Did they really expect her to take these interviews seriously?

  On the other hand, if she snapped at her interviewers, she would be playing into their hands, and on camera no less. They could twist Yukari’s words to fit whatever portrait of her they wanted to present to the entire world. However vapid this reporter seemed, she was a professional who no doubt had an arsenal of tricks up her sleeve to fool Yukari into saying what she wanted to hear.

  Resigning herself to the situation, Yukari decided to answer each question as briefly as possible. “The supply department provided them.”

  “Oh, you poor thing. They don’t even let you pick your own pajamas? You astronauts are on a shorter leash than I thought.”

  “If you think so.”

  “You know, there’s a rumor going around the base that the capsule can only carry a petite passenger like yourself. Any truth to that?”

  “I haven’t heard any rumors.”

  “The rumor isn’t what’s important. Surely the astronaut piloting the rocket must know the truth behind the rumor.”

  “The rocket’s specifications haven’t been made public yet, so I can’t make any comment.”

  “We’ve also heard that because the capsule can only carry the weight of a young girl, you were essentially impressed into service. Can you comment on that?”

  “Actually…” Yukari bit her lip. Time for another lie. “Actually, I’m here by choice.”

  “Then it’s just coincidence that Matsuri happens to have the same build as you?”

  “Matsuri wants to be here too. Isn’t that right, Matsuri?”

  “Sure is.” Matsuri didn’t miss a beat.

  “And the stories we’ve heard about a male astronaut who quit the program?”

  How much did they know?

  “I don’t know anything abo
ut that,” said Yukari.

  “It’s been suggested that he ran away because the rocket was too dangerous.”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “I’ve reviewed the launch records—it’s been one failure after another lately. Aren’t you worried?”

  “The failures were with a different type of rocket.”

  “And why do you suppose they changed to a smaller, older model at the last minute?”

  “I don’t know!” bellowed Yukari.

  “There’s no reason to get upset, dear.”

  “We’re trying to get some sleep, and you come barging into our room trying to dig up dirt and you don’t think there’s any reason to be upset? Get out, all of you! Now!”

  [ACT 7]

  THE CALL FROM Yukari’s mother came while she was in the multi-axis trainer. Satsuki stopped the machine and waived Yukari over. Yukari took the call at one of the phones on the control panel.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “How’s my little teen idol doing?”

  One sentence and her mother had already set Yukari off. “What do you mean, ‘teen idol’?”

  “You’re a hero back here. The brave teenager who’s going to face the rigors of space alone. There’s a news van outside the house right now. I’m going to be on Good Afternoon, Japan.”

  “Don’t let them talk you into saying anything you shouldn’t.”

  “Director Nasuda briefed me on everything that’s out-of-bounds. Our stories should match up just fine.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want to turn on the TV and hear you talking about how I wet my bed when I was five.”

  “When have I ever said anything that would embarrass you? I’ll just be talking about how you’re an excellent student who was accepted to a good high school, that you were runner-up at the Shinagawa Track Meet—things like that.”

  “No! That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

  “I don’t see what harm it could do. I’m proud of you.”

  “Just promise me you won’t say anything, okay?”

  “Well, I’ve already been on a number of programs—”

  “Then don’t say anything starting today!”

  “Don’t be so Japanese, Yukari. Show a little pride in your accomplishments. You’re an astronaut now—you have to think globally.”

  “What do I have to be proud of?”

  “As stubborn as ever. Fine. That’s not why I called. The producer of the show I’m about to be on wants some footage of us talking on the phone. They’re ready to record right now.”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “It’ll only take a minute. I play the worried mother, you just have to follow my lead.”

  Bang!

  Yukari slammed the phone into its cradle. Seeing that the phone was still in one piece, she picked up a folding chair and brought it down on top of the phone. The base of the phone flipped over, and the cord snapped, sending the receiver skittering to the far side of the room.

  Satsuki stood up. “It’s okay, Yukari.”

  “I’m gonna smash this phone to bits.”

  “Just calm down.”

  “I hate it.”

  “I said calm down!”

  “I! Hate! This! Phone!”

  Yukari bashed the phone with the chair again and again.

  Satsuki grabbed Yukari from behind and locked her in a half nelson. She reached into her lab coat, pulled out a case containing a syringe, and jabbed Yukari in the right arm in the blink of an eye.

  The ketamine went to work at once, and Yukari grew quiet. Satsuki laid her down on a couch and wiped the sweat from her brow.

  “You’re only human,” said Satsuki. She returned her syringe to its case. “Better keep this handy until the launch.”

  Five more days—and it wasn’t just the astronauts who were feeling the pressure. The entire base was stressed to the breaking point.

  [ACT 8]

  IT WAS TWO o’clock in the morning. The upper bunk shook, and Matsuri’s head peered down over the edge, upside down. Her long hair streamed beneath her.

  “Hoi. Yukari. Trouble sleeping?”

  “How could you tell?”

  “How could I not tell. You’re even keeping me awake.”

  “Sorry.”

  The nap earlier in the day had thrown off Yukari’s schedule. Her body was exhausted, but her mind remained clear and alert.

  “Something on your mind?” Matsuri asked.

  “Nothing in particular.” Yukari sighed.

  “You people from the modern world worry too much.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “You and me eat together, sleep together, train together—but you’re the only one who ever worries.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Maybe a little magic will help.”

  “I’ve had enough magic.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s real easy, and it will work, you’ll see.”

  “If there’s gonna be a whole lot of singing, dancing, and that sort of thing, forget it.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s real simple. And you don’t even have to pay me for it.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Okay, come on. Get up,” said Matsuri, excited.

  Figuring she didn’t have anything to lose, Yukari played along. Matsuri opened the window just a crack. “We need a way for the spirits to get inside.” She changed out of her pajamas and into her grass skirt as moonlight spilled into the room. “Kneel down over here, Yukari.”

  Yukari complied without a word. Matsuri stood in front of her, her right hand holding her spear and her left resting on Yukari’s head.

  Matsuri began to chant in the same singsong melody Yukari had heard that night on the shore. Matsuri gently waved her spear as she sang. The seashell bracelets she wore on her arms rustled softly with the motion.

  “Relax,” said Matsuri. “It’s okay to fall asleep if you get tired.”

  Yukari closed her eyes. The song seemed to resonate within her. Maybe there was something to this magic after all.

  “I’m getting sleepy,” said Yukari.

  “Then sleep. Good night, Yukari.”

  “Good night.”

  As Yukari drifted off to sleep, a reporter burst into the room.

  “Asleep! Already? Come on, wake up, Yukari.”

  “Huh? You again?”

  Yukari had left strict instructions with security telling them to keep the media out of the barracks.

  This time the reporter had come alone. She was a small woman with short hair, and her skin had been bronzed by long hours in the sun. Yukari thought she looked familiar, but she couldn’t remember which station she was with.

  To Yukari’s surprise, the reporter had neither camera nor recording equipment. The only thing in her hands was a microphone, and even that was nothing more than a prop. Yukari was beyond asking why.

  “What made you want to become an astronaut, Yukari?”

  Here we go again.

  “I came here looking for my dad, and they asked me if I wanted to be an astronaut—they said I was just the right size. So in exchange for taking on an easy part-time job, they promised to help me look for my dad.”

  “I see. But you’ve found your father now, yes?”

  “Uh-huh. But that good-for-nothing deadbeat said I had to finish the job I started.”

  “You mean you’re not here by choice?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then you don’t enjoy being an astronaut?”

  Yukari shook her head. “The training’s a killer, and I don’t trust that rocket. It’s barely got enough lift to get off the ground. That’s why they had to go adding boosters and stuff.”

  “Why not have someone else go in your place?”

  “I thought about that for a while.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “I figure I’ve come this far and I might as well go into space at least once. And they have gone out of their way to make ch
anges for me. Who knows—maybe I’ve caught island fever too.”

  “That’s great.”

  “No, it’s not. Everybody here is crazy. They never think about how the things they do will affect other people. Not that it’s all bad.”

  “So that part’s true—you do want to go to space.”

  “Yeah, I guess…”

  “But?”

  “But I wish I could say it in my own words. Right now it feels like I’m always trying to sell something. And the lying…It’s hard to sound passionate about something that isn’t true.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t have to lie to me tonight.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have a good night’s rest, Yukari.”

  “Thanks. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  The reporter left, and Yukari crawled back into bed. Soon she was sound asleep.

  The next morning, Yukari awoke feeling more refreshed than she had in a long time.

  “I slept like a log,” said Yukari with a yawn.

  “Hoi. Good morning.” Matsuri was already up and dressed.

  As Yukari rubbed the sleep from her eyes, memories of the previous night’s interview came bubbling to the surface.

  “Do you remember that interview from last night?” asked Yukari.

  “Nope. I must’ve fallen asleep. How’d it go?”

  “Hmm.” Yukari inclined her head. “I don’t really remember. Probably the same as all the rest.”

  Matsuri walked over to Yukari’s bed. “You’ve done so many interviews you can do them in your sleep.” She smiled.

  “Hooray for me.” Yukari sprang out of bed and ran to the mirror in the bathroom. “T-minus four days!” she shouted, pumping her fist in the air.

  CHAPTER VII

  ENDLESS COUNTDOWN

  [ACT 1]

  IT WAS EIGHT o’clock in the morning on December 26. Billowing white smoke still hung over the launchpad, but the screen had already switched to a telescopic view of the unmanned rocket.

  “T-plus 128, 129. Solid rocket booster burn complete.” Kinoshita’s words reverberated through the control room.

  Already one hundred kilometers away, the rocket flickered and burned on the screen like a tiny torch. Two objects separated from the torch, trailing thin wisps of smoke.

 

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