Chapter 13• A piece of home
*Still Day 7 of Origenes Crisis*
/
To think that my day began so hectic, and yet I ended up on the single most comfortable memory foam beanbag on Earth, watching the minutes melt off of the clock.
There was no better feeling than the feeling of accomplishment.
I had plenty of treats at my disposal. Of course, being surrounded by food and amenities was a constant thing at NASA.
Unlike the other times, I didn't feel like partaking.
Nothing kills an appetite quite like almost passing out in a spinning death chair.
In fact, I couldn't exactly confirm nor deny whether I did pass out.
Apparently, the plan for the downtime that ensued was to "Keep me calm and focused."
In truth, these moments that seemed pre-ordained for relaxation were the moments I found myself the most anxious.
In the quiet, my brain decided to fill the silence with noise.
What ifs…...What about this…...When this happens…...How will you handle it?
When my thoughts attacked me, the best thing I could do was close my eyes and breathe.
Tune out all the noise.
"My thoughts are not me; I am not my thoughts."
Once I opened my eyes, I saw a note slid under my door.
I walked over to the note and read the address.
It was from Adventure Bay.
My tail instantly began to wag, which hadn't happened all that much since I had relocated.
I opened the envelope, it read: To Rocky, our one-of-a-kind-Soon-to-be astronaut,
The letter wasn't too long, but it meant a lot that they'd sent it.
It read:
"Dear Rocky, NASA told us to be short, but we'll try our best.
We are all so proud of you, though you already know it! We just know you're doing everything you can to reach the moon. They haven't told us much, but we know that whoever you end up alongside will always be in good hands. We miss you so much, the lookout just isn't the same without you. Everyone around town is asking about you, but we know that we'll all see you when the time is right. We hope you're eating well too, and Marshall demands that you take pictures to show us while you're there. But don't get in any trouble, please. We really hope to see you soon. Please be safe and remember- We love you!
Sincerely, Ryder and the pups!
P.S. That Bakery you like is giving out free things with green icing- Donuts, Cinnamon Rolls, and Cookies shaped like you- They're a hit!"
I read it collectively in their voices. Just seeing their words and knowing who it was coming from…. A tear came to my eye.
All things aside, I really did miss them. In fact, I felt bad that I hadn't dedicated more time to missing them.
My schedule was, quite literally, flinging me by at warp speeds.
Somehow, through the writing, I feel like they'd held back the urge to say, "it's alright if you don't make the cut-just come home to us!"
Then again, who's to say they even knew that much?
In any case, I knew that they were still supporting me all those miles away, and that made me ecstatic.
As I went to put the note somewhere special, I noticed something.
On the back of the note, there was an 8-digit PIN written in very light pencil on the back: 4753- 6190.
I mulled over what it could have meant- obviously something I was to keep to myself.
I memorized the number and erased it.
Maybe Ryder and the Pups had some kind of surprise in store.
For the first time in days, I decided to take a nap.
Much like my previous sleeps, I didn't dream about anything.
But when I awoke, it was almost like there was a presence in my room.
This kind of thing happened to me somewhat often, as if residual dream leaked into reality at the exact second I regained consciousness.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
I opened it and Sophie gave me her signature "Oh thank goodness!"
"I knocked earlier but I forgot what time it was. You were sleeping, I'm sure. It's been a lot, I know"
"Have you been sleeping alright, Sophie?", I interjected.
"Well, there will be plenty of time for sleeping after we return you safely from space, my friend", she said still speaking as if I had already been selected for the mission, "Until then, there's always caffeine treats."
"Is it, distilled in some way that makes it healthier for dogs?", I asked.
She chuckled, "Oh my dearest Rocky, if it were bad for me, I'd have been dead a long time ago", She said rather matter-of-factly.
"But, I came over to tell you that your next simulation training just got pushed up two hours!"
"Perfect, I had just run out of things to do", I said.
Sophie led me outdoors to a tram depo, although there were no trams to be had.
It was still raining, but Sophie had an umbrella ready the second we got to the door so not even a drop touched me.
Since I was going to be underwater soon, rain didn't bother me as much- at least not at that particular point.
The Umbrella was big enough to keep both of us underneath it, though Sophie quickly became agitated.
"So unprofessional, all I ask is that people stick to the schedule", she said.
Just then, another NASA worker opened the door behind us.
"Oh, you all got the memo, right?", she asked.
"Yes, all of us aside from the tram drivers", retorted Sophie.
"Well, you're an hour early so we can't really blame them", she replied.
Sophie's eyes went wide, "Wait. I was told that the underwater training simulation had been moved up two hours."
"Oh yes, well they've since moved it back an hour", was the reply.
A light bulb went off in my head as I remembered what time it was.
Sophie huffed, "I wish I was in charge; I really do. This is the type of stuff that kills morale dead. Next thing you know, they'll cancel the whole thing and tell us we could have gone home three hours ago!"
The NASA worker laughed and apologized for being the bearer of bad news.
"No worries, I think I'll go grab some juice and I'll be back", I said, not even knowing where the nearest 'juice-getting' place was.
It looked like Sophie bought it.
I walked back indoors and the second I rounded the corner; I picked up the pace.
While I knew it was a bad idea, I couldn't help sitting and listening to the two NASA workers that I'd "met" on Day 4.
They met like clockwork- same time; same place- every day it seemed.
I was learning so much- so much that others weren't telling me.
So, back to my hiding spot I went.
Eavesdropping was an invasion of privacy, I knew- so I planned to thank them somehow after everything was finished. Or at the very least, learn their names.
Just as I'd thought, they were in their usual spot for that time. I crept into the tail end of their conversation.
"I'll tell you something about that place, it's got a flat-top grill that's probably been imbued with the grease of 200 years of burger-making", said Worker 1.
"It can't be any better than that place with the 100-year-old grease vat, who knows how they keep it good all those years", said Worker 2.
"No, no, no, there's no way. Maybe I was just eating it wrong", said Worker 1.
"We'll just have to go back then", says Worker 2.
Well Rocky, I thought, this is what you get for eavesdropping- a whole lot of nothing.
The garden-variety conversation continued for ten minutes.
I thought about walking away multiple times, but I didn't.
Suddenly, a third voice chimed in.
"Hey, I'm trying to tell as many people as possible now that I've got permission", #3 said, "Did you hear?"
"No", said the others.
I shook my head, as if I were an actual part of the conversation.
"Looks like the engineers are having a lot of trouble with the launch escape- I've only heard grumblings but some of the upstairs-folks are….well…"
He got quiet.
I leaned closer, almost putting my ear around the corner.
"….they said it might be better if we just didn't have one."
The launch escape system was the first disaster prevention device for astronaut safety.
Basically, like a mini rocket on top of the big rocket, its function is to fling the part of the craft where the astronauts sit, incredibly far away from a potential explosion- be it on the launchpad or after the rocket left the ground.
In the moment, I didn't think the person meant it in the way it had sounded- that dogs weren't humans so there wasn't a need to protect them if something went wrong.
The third continued, "I'm sure they were just blowing smoke, but I wanted to tell folks before they change their mind. Personally, I think we need one, but a deep fix won't come before the deadline, obviously. In the case that-"
He stopped.
Suddenly, I heard sniffing. Rapid, inquisitive sniffs.
My eyes went wide as I realized the third voice was one of the canine employees, one who could definitely smell me. I turned and bolted down the hallway.
By the time he poked his head around to see where I had been, I was already walking through a door to go back to Sophie.
At the very least, he saw my tail.
He was incredibly close to seeing me, far too close for any comfort.
But, Chase's nose was unmatched, and I had been outrunning him for years- at least playing games at the lookout.
As happy as those memories made me, especially in the wake of receiving my letter, I decided that I had way too much to worry about.
I had faith that the engineers could make it work by the 28th of October.
So, I made my return to where I was supposed to be.
After chatting with Sophie and the NASA lady, who's name I learned was Ruth, the tram had come to pick me up.
After boarding, we set off for a building I had not yet been to. A circular building on the periphery of the NASA campus.
As we drove, another pair of headlights appeared through the rain behind our tram.
We were in a convoy, something I was used to of course, but this one felt more…... intense.
Almost as if I were going into battle.
Although the rain distorted the visibility, I could still just make out the launchpad in the distance.
Unlike other tram depots, this building had a garage of sorts, so I'd be able to hop from the tram to the door after we stopped.
After being led down a series of white hallways, I came to a white room filled with NASA workers- again.
I began the long, arduous process of being properly put into my suit.
Said suit was entirely white, no logo and no green. It seems that I would have to, quite literally, earn my stripes.
From what I understood, my training in the underwater simulator would just be a more accurate version of what I had already been doing, since being underwater is the closest thing we could get to recreating the weightlessness of space.
I had been in diving suits for water rescues with the PAW Patrol. Nothing but thin layers protecting me from the water.
As much as I hated thinking about it, I just told myself that the spacesuit was a much better version of what I had already used.
I was briefed on what this simulation was to prepare us for- the possibility of crew members needing to perform an Extra-vehicular activity while orbiting either the moon or Earth. We would all need to know how to repair the modules while they were still together, as well as apart.
The launch suits, as I knew, were made to withstand g-forces and keep you breathing. The entire interior was memory foam, insanely comfy, with no points of pressure- even at the joints.
In this simulation, since we'd be underwater, our suits would be fed oxygen for the first time exactly how they would in space.
After one last run-through of my responsibilities, I was led out into a room that housed the largest swimming pool I had ever seen.
The pool- called the Neutral Buoyancy Laboratory- was about 160 feet deep, which was dizzying to me.
But it had to fit the models of the spacecraft.
These models were precise to the very last detail, though they would not be fixed in place, they were connected to the sides of the pool by wires.
While the spacecraft would not move around very much in space, it would slowly rotate to maintain the thermal balance inside.
This time, our harness would be for safety and survival, not just to pull on us to simulate moon gravity.
If anyone felt unsafe, there would be an emergency ripcord on the suit that would activate the winch on the side of the pool to pull you out.
This was called "bouncing", although it wouldn't be a smooth ride and it would be impossible unless you were outside of the model spacecraft.
"When in doubt, bounce", was the advice given to me back when the process was first explained.
It was at that point that I saw just how many people it took to put a training like this together, as the building felt like its own bustling miniature city. It felt like a train terminal, and I wanted to take full advantage of the experience regardless of my own comfort level.
My NASA friends finally informed me that I was ready to go and closed my helmet visor.
The built-in ventilation system came to life, but it didn't really help.
It seemed as though my temperature woes were destined to continue.
Every time I put the thing on, I felt like I was on the sun, and it only got hotter the more I worked.
As I walked around the perimeter of the pool, I saw the two who would be joining me.
It would be me, Arlo, and Weston- a three-dog team taking on the same simulated mission.
Great….
Unsurprisingly, Arlo was the only one to acknowledge my arrival.
He pointed to the right side of his helmet.
The radio!
On cue, my radio system turned on.
"Rocky, can you hear me?", his voice came into my right ear.
"Yes, I can! Can you hear me alright?", I said.
"Loud and clear", he said.
Then in my left ear was mission control, "Hey Rocky, these are the boys back home. How's Comm-check?" (communication's check)
"Com-check- All good here", I replied.
"Copy that", said Mission control.
There we stood on the far edge of the pool with a wire connecting us to large winches. At the commencement, I'd be lowered down into the depths as it spun forward.
"Alright, just give us a second, we're going through pressure check on suits, standby", said Mission control.
The workers, of which there were dozens around the pool, behind computer screens, and likely some we couldn't see, would soon be able to check how things were going within our suits- air-wise.
In this simulation, our team would have Arlo in the Command Module pilot's role, Weston in the Lunar Module pilot spot, and me in the Mission Specialist position.
"How have thing's been?", Arlo asked, surprising me. "Training's kicking everyone around right now it seems."
"Oh yeah, it definitely wasn't what I expected", I replied. Since Arlo had been in NASA before, it would only be natural for him to know how the others were progressing just by sight.
"Well, I'm just glad to see you're still with us", he said, "I've been here for 3 years and still haven't gotten used to it."
"You say that as if people are dropping out or something", Weston chimed in, little patience in his voice.
"Be honest, Weston, if they came to us right now and told us that they couldn't secure our compensation after this is all over, you'd leave right away, wouldn't you?", asked Arlo.
"Probably, any smart person would. At least the possibility we'd be paid is better than jumping through hoops when you know you won't be", Weston said.
"Rocky and I would stay, I'm sure. Payment or no payment", Arlo replied.
"I'm sure you would", Weston said, unimpressed.
"I'd forgotten all about the compensation part", I added. "But I guess there's no shame in walking away from something that calls for all sacrifice and no reward. But still, I just wouldn't feel right about letting the telescope die."
I don't think Weston expected me to say anything, especially anything reflecting partial agreement with him.
"What did I say?", Arlo turned to Weston and laughed, "Almost like he was built for NASA, any purely selfish reasons?"
My eyes gleamed, "I've always dreamt of going to space, the moon especially", I answered.
Arlo smiled back, "Yeah, me too."
Weston didn't say anything, but he at least looked my way.
Several NASA workers approached us and attached our final available umbilicals to the emergency harness.
We were ready to get to work.
I hadn't realized it yet, but my suit was already doing its job, circulating the good air, and filtering out the bad.
I couldn't hold back the habit of holding my breath as I was lowered in.
I shuddered as my entire world took on a blue, distorted filter.
"Here's your lights", said mission control.
Although the room was lit, it was dim under the water, so the flashlights on either side of my helmet would light my way.
It took about 1 minute for all three of us to be lowered to the spacecraft replica in our bulky suits.
We would spend two, grueling hours doing all manner of things underwater.
Taking a "tour" of every inch of the spacecraft exterior, simulating minor repairs, and seeing what panels we could fix on our own.
The main concern would be the possibility of external damage that could put the crew at risk when reentering the Earth's atmosphere.
Any one of us may need to go outside of the spacecraft to do repairs during any part of the mission. Though, if absolutely necessary, the backup crew could be readied within hours to come get us.
These tasks were necessary sure, but it was nothing like looking at labeled diagrams.
The ship that would serve as our lifeboat in space was a sophisticated, heavy machine.
Although simulated, all of our "crisis" work had to be done while using a toolbox underwater- work I had always done with a pup-pack, and therefore was another hurdle to jump over.
If nothing else, we got great experience with calling each other by our respective roles over comms using NASA protocol.
My only differentiating factor was Zuma's book, which I had read cover-to-cover ahead of time.
We all took on a calm and collected focus when the job started.
We all knew what it meant, all of our actions would be seen and judged now that we'd been seen operating in near-zero gravity.
I once again managed to keep myself together and soldier forward- minute after minute.
I was surprising myself pretty much every day, but I didn't even want to think too confidently.
At just over the two-hour mark, I noticed a peculiar change in my helmet.
I smelled something…off.
As I sniffed Arlo said, "Hey Rocky, we're gonna need the Triple tap again."
"Copy", I said, reaching my clunky glove into my massive tool pouch to retrieve a rather obscure metalworking screwdriver with three taps.
At this point, Weston was definitely irritated at the equally obscure nature of these repairs.
"MC (abbreviation for mission control), how likely is this scenario, really?", he asked.
Mission control responded, "Should the separation of the first stage be a little rough, it's possible that a panel could be blown up and into the second stage- therefore preventing a clean split between the second and third stages for parking orbit, copy?"
"Copy", Weston said.
Even I could see where Weston was coming from, since it would only be about a few-minute span-if that- between the launch vehicle (First stage) of the rocket disconnecting and the second stage doing the same.
Going into an emergency orbit with the second stage still attached meant that any astronaut brave enough to go outside of the craft to fix it would be sitting right on top of the explosive charges meant to propel it away from the third stage.
Still, if NASA was confident its technology was enough to tell us when something was wrong, I had confidence too.
Ironic confidence, since I knew something was likely wrong with my suit too.
Arlo sighed, "Yeah, were also gonna need that egg-beater drill."
"Copy that", I said.
Minutes passed as we worked to remove the "embedded" panel, which was actually just a half-panel welded into the side to simulate an accident.
The odd smell became much more noticeable.
A few more minutes passed, and I could feel my heartrate going up, which meant the biomedical observers could see it too.
All of us crouched on the exterior of the rocket, huddled around a foot-long stretch of shielding on the side of our precious spacecraft model.
The damage left behind was now the larger issue, as any weakness in the exterior could be a potential breach for heat to get through.
All the while, my situation was getting worse.
"That should be good", said Weston as he held the damaged piece, "there's a way we can carry on without needing to extract more, since we'd be breaking away from the second stage anyway."
"Copy, MC can we get an internal pressure check", Arlo asked, which would normally be done by a crew member on the inside of the craft.
"Roger that, standby for pressure check", was the reply.
MC gave us a made-up number.
The next step was to seal the breach, which could be done using packets of glue-like liquid heat shield that were given to all of us in the case of emergency.
In a way, it was like a strong version of black cement that you applied like spackle. You had to use a specific tool in order to properly heat, spread, and dry the fluid in Space's minus 454.67°F or minus 270.43°C temperatures.
At that point it couldn't be ignored, my eyes started to strain, my vision blurred slightly.
Why? Why me? Why now? Haven't I been through enough!?, I thought.
I knew what protocol said I should do- and probably should have done the second I noticed, and yet actually performing the action was a different beast.
I froze- packet of unopened heatshield spread in my paw.
Mission control asked, "Rocky, is everything ok?"
I coughed and my next inhale felt like I was breathing in smoke and fire.
I gasped and just managed to get out, "Bounce!", and pulled the cord.
And bounce I did.
Protocol dictated that the others had to bounce too.
I saw the jets of water shoot out from the front of my suit at a speed way faster than I expected. Within seconds, I shot out of the water like a hooked fish.
All of our suits were set up to fire off at different angles and follow the path of the harness pieces hooked to the ceiling to avoid hitting one another.
We all ended up next to each other hooked into the winch contraptions.
About twenty NASA workers descended upon us.
The radios offered only static.
The first worker lifted the visor of my helmet.
The first thing I noticed was that one of the water jets had pierced the bag of heatshield spread and my entire bottom half as well as one of Arlo's arms was charcoal black.
Though, since we hadn't started pressing it, the goopy substance began sliding off of our suits like melted butter.
I was also thoroughly exhausted, so my speech came out in jagged, breathy gasps.
"Sorry- about- that", I said to Arlo.
"What happened back there?", he asked, noticeably shocked.
"Jesus!", Weston exclaimed, finally having his visor removed.
He was out of breath, more so than the rest of us. He likely had the wind knocked out of him from the force.
"I-I smelled something. Something weird. Like…. something was leaking into my suit", I said.
Several of the workers looked to one another. Some murmured.
One grabbed a tablet and shook his head.
One said, "We had leak detection active during the whole exercise, we didn't pick up a thing."
Suddenly, I could feel the eyes on me again, just like before. This time, no one believed me.
Shock, curiosity, concern, frustration, confusion, irritation.
Some had their hands on their heads, others paced back and forth trying to piece something together.
Many stared blankly.
I started to panic. I had to convince them I wasn't crazy.
Just like the last time when I punctured my suit and nearly passed out from overheating.
No! I didn't want to mess up like this, even if I gave it my all and they selected another pup for the mission, I'd rather that than this.
"I know I smelled something, for sure I did", I said loud and firm. "It felt like I was about to die."
I heard murmurs. I wonder if they were accusing me of anxiety or inexperience.
I looked so pathetic.
At that time, Maddox came to the front of the group.
A pit formed in my stomach. He had appeared almost as if summoned by the chaos- and the last time we'd spoken, he was telling me how I would have died from the micro-tears I unwittingly put in my glove during my telescope-fixing simulation.
He approached me, then he sniffed my helmet. Nothing.
My heart dropped. Then he grabbed a tube that was previously attached to the back of my suit and smelled that.
He gagged and his face turned red.
"Oh man, Maddox don't tell me this kid made a mess of his pants", Weston said, somehow conjuring enough air in his weakened state to produce a condescending laugh.
"Oh, No. That's definitely a leak, for sure. No clue what, but he did the right thing", Maddox said.
The same workers whose gazes and opinions had previously stricken me with fear and dread now heaved sighs of relief.
At that, the few NASA workers who weren't looking at me turned back to me.
A few laughed.
The next minutes were ones of rapid inquisition and movement.
I had a chance to smell the tube myself.
It reeked of what smelled like burnt plastic and something I could only liken to spice.
Space suits like ours use lithium hydroxide canisters to remove carbon dioxide.
Apparently, my suit's air supply pack, being hastily applied to my new suit, was receiving more than the typical medley of Oxygen, Nitrogen, and Lithium Hydroxide.
What should have been caught by the leak detection was a combination of excess Nitrogen and Lithium hydroxide in my suit as well as an 'anomaly' in its lining- the source of the burning smell.
I sat alone in a side room of the same building, workers scrambling around to their respective stations.
I knew I wasn't in trouble, so I just sat and awaited the run-down and paperwork that I knew would be coming.
A group of technicians finally approached me once the emotions of the time died down. For whatever reason, I expected Kingsley to be among them. No idea why.
Some apologized for putting me in such a position, others told each other that trusting the astronaut would always be the best course of action.
Even though I still hadn't been placed on a crew, that meant trusting in me.
Though one of them told me that the smell would have become much more noticeable before I had a chance of passing out- as far as I was concerned, my nose saved my life that day.
Maddox came to me and apologized personally. I told him I didn't mind.
"That wasn't in any way fair to you, it's our mistake and we'll make a better tech update by launch-day", he said.
"Thank you, I'm just glad I wasn't freaking out over nothing", I said.
"Well, you may have already saved countless lives by speaking up today. If we kept on using this suit design and software, any number of disasters could have occurred in the future", he said. "Don't let it go to your head, but your trust in us means…...something."
I nodded.
My brutal day 7 was finally over, so I was eventually led to the exit to wait for a tram.
All of our suits were swiftly taken away, Arlo and Weston's being cut off of their bodies to save time and ensure they didn't inhale anything nasty either.
As I left, however, I passed several NASA workers.
They smiled, waved, and even applauded me as I went.
I walked by Weston, who still seemed a bit rattled and irritated. I smiled.
Arlo stood talking to a NASA director named Frank.
Arlo didn't turn his head but, as if he sensed my presence, slapped his paw on my shoulder as I walked past him.
Frank looked at me and said, "Wow, that's one Tough, Competent, Steely-eyed missile man right there!", loudly and for all to hear.
I grinned.
Although I wasn't one to brag out loud, I had to agree with him.
***End of Chapter 13***