Shera's Diary

Chapter Two

Doubt

By Kristen Gupton-Williams

Dear Diary,

I think Captain Highwind hates me.

I'm not sure exactly what I did, but clearly, I'm not living up to some sort of standard that he's expected of me. Although I'm still agonizing over those schematics of the oxygen tanks, over the last two months I have been delegated with working on the installation of the rocket's navigational systems.

Whenever I've seen him either near my office or at the rocket itself, I've tried to be nothing but pleasant to him. I always offer him a bright smile and a greeting and all I ever get back from him is a glare of annoyance. Despite this, I still feel compelled to keep trying. There's just something about him I, foolishly, can't resist. I guess what they say about jerks being attractive is true. I never thought I'd fall for that but somehow... He's not a jerk, though. I know there's something else in there that I just can't quite put my finger on. Maybe it's just all the stress on me.

It's got to be the stress. I think that's what's going on. Everyone in town feels it. The captain feels it. His life is on the line. If one of us just messes up one tiny detail… just one small item, he dies.

It's finally sinking in. I'm not just working on a rocket. I'm not just helping create a machine. No… at the end of the day, that man, the man I now both worship on some level and fear on another, his very life depends on my competence. If I fail, he dies.

Even if he turns out to be the worst human being in the world, I couldn't bear having his death on my conscience. Oh, please God in heaven-- what have I gotten myself into? I'm not qualified for this! I'm just a kid fresh out of school! What are they thinking! Why have they put me in this kind of position?

I'm sorry… I'm so freaked out right now. I'm going to cry so I've got to take off my glasses. I should call my mother. I'll write more later.

Okay, okay… I'm calmer now. I'm not going to lie, either. I finished that bottle of wine I had so if what I write gets a little out there, I'll be reminded why.

So there it is. The truth of the matter is that not one person in this town knows what's going to happen. Despite all the collective years of education, the degrees, the intelligence of those amassed here… not one damn person here knows WHAT is going to happen when Cid-- sorry, when the captain climbs into that rocket and hits the ignition.

Maybe he will be the first man in space, or maybe he will just be the first person to die in a space rocket. Either way, this town, or at least, all of us that are employed on this project, will share the responsibility for the outcome, no matter what that outcome may be.

That's what's probably going on with the way the captain treats all of us. He's keeping his guard up. He has to. He's the most knowledgeable person here in regards to the project and he needs to run "a tight ship" as he says. That man has the most to lose-- not only his dreams but his very life. If I were in his position? I'd be uptight, too. I'd be looking over everyone's shoulders.

I can't hold the way he acts against him. This is his entire existence.

He's incredibly brave to be doing this, that or foolish. No, he's not foolish. That's not the kind he is. He's not doing this for the thrill. He's doing it because he feels that it's his destiny. It's the reason for his being and that's why he's willing to risk his life for it.

I know I have had this hero worship complex over him since school. He's always seemed more of a legend than a real human being but… he is. He's just a man. An incredibly brave, intelligent man, with a faith in something more profound than I think anyone has ever really given him credit for.

Right about now, I could use some of that faith. I don't have it, though. I just have numerous schematics, plans for that rocket. My religion these days are those blueprints. I pour over them, day in and day out. I can't explain it, but I just know there is something that's being over looked. I don't think that's just my paranoia over Captain Highwind's life being on the line. I think it's very real, a gut instinct that I'm missing something on those plans. Something that no one else here has been able to catch, not even the captain himself.

What chance can I possibly have to figure it out if they can't?

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Dear Diary,

I went to school to become an aerospace engineer. I aspired to get a job with Shin Ra. I dreamt of the day that I might be able to emulate someone like Captain Highwind, or to even work with him.

I never imagined that such dreams could come true, only to reveal themselves as nightmares. Yet, I can't just quit. I can't leave. Not because I'm under any contractual obligation, but rather, because of the fear in my heart that if I go, the next person might miss something. That something could cost Captain Highwind his life.

I don't want to be here, but I'm just as terrified to leave now. It truly is a nightmare, one that I can't wake up from.

Every time I see the captain now… there's a pain in my chest and a burn in my mind. If he dies, I don't know how I'm going to live with it. I still try to act just as cheerful and upbeat toward him as ever, especially now that I've come to appreciate that no one else approaches him that way.

Maybe he still rarely acknowledges me, and when he does, it is still less than warm, but I can't help it. I feel bad for him. I think on some level he's lonely. He's been placed on a pedestal that keeps him isolated from the rest of the world. His fame and notoriety go beyond the likes of engineers such as myself. It extends far and wide, and when people that don't live here see and recognize him, they come over with that celebrity stricken behavior. I can tell that he hates that sort of attention, and I'm willing to bet that it's yet another reason he's built that wall around himself. It keeps a lot of those groupie types from bothering him too much. The stress of the life he leads, the possibility of death, and his dislike of strangers getting too close, has basically shut him off from the rest of the world.

I used to think, back in school just eight months ago, that it would be great to be someone like the captain. Now, I honestly pity him. He's got so much on his plate… so many impossible expectations of him from people. They forget that he's human.

I will never forget that about him. Even if he never cracks a smile at me, I'll never blame him for being like he is. At the end of the day, I think he's still one of the few people in this world left that still really, honestly, believes in something.

All I can do now is believe in him and do all that I can to see that his dream becomes a reality.

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Dear Diary,

I'm so confused.

The second in command of this project resigned today. He was directly under the supervision of Captain Highwind.

I've been told that I'm being promoted to the position. I asked the guy who told me why I was being given that job, when I am far from the most experienced person for it.

All he said was, "There are just reasons, Shera. Accept it."

I don't know what in the world that could mean. I really don't and now it means just a larger burden upon my shoulders, a greater responsibility. More blame should this fail, and once more, I feel the weight of Captain Highwind's life in my hands.

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Dear Diary,

I did get that promotion last week. For the last several days, I've been the Engineering Manager. What this means is, that all the various departments now come to me to run by their plans and give approval when needed. My job is to make sure that things are Kosher and if they aren't, it's then my job to pass it on to Captain Highwind for review.

This keeps me very busy and leaves me little time during the day to continue with my obsession over the oxygen tanks. Yes, I'm still stuck on them. I just know there is something amiss there. I'll see if I can talk to the captain about it soon. He's usually too busy for such things, especially when he's already given his personal stamp of approval to that part of the design.

For the life of me, I don't know why I was the one promoted.

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Dear Diary,

I am shaking like a leaf.

I found myself alone in the main design office after hours tonight. Captain Highwind was there, also. I was only half looking over my work-- in fact, I was mostly just watching him as he sat, hunched over a drafting table, scratching down notes.

Talk about a man obsessed. He was completely oblivious to the rest of the world as he worked, his pencil moving frantically over the schematics, writing here, erasing there. I didn't realize that I was staring as much as I was until about an hour after everyone else had gone.

He sighed, apparently done with his task, tossing his pencil down upon the paper, reaching up, and pulling his ever-present goggles from his head. His exhausted eyes slowly scanned over to me and I felt myself flush red.

I had been caught.

One of his eyebrows cocked and his eyes narrowed at me as they often did. Instead of his mouth pulling down into a scowl as it usually did, though, he almost seemed in danger of smiling, or… at least as close as he ever got to doing so. "What the fuck you starin' at?"

I shrugged and tried to blow it off. "Nothing, Sir."

His head bobbed slightly in something of a nod, and I awaited further cursing or degradation.

But it didn't come.

He leaned back in his chair and continued to look at me. "I'm hungry. Let's get the fuck outta here and get some dinner and call it a night. What do ya say? I'll buy."

I could have died. Profanity included, it was the most civil tone he'd ever had with me, and I realized that he was just so incredibly tired that, for the moment, he didn't have his guard up. The fact that he still was all right with asking me to accompany him despite that shell being down got my attention and I had no choice but to comply. After all, who knew if this sort of opportunity would present itself again? "That would be very nice, Captain."

We closed up the office and went to the nearby diner. I counted, and he managed to get through five cigarettes during the walk. I wish he didn't smoke like that. I hate to think what his lungs must look like.

Nothing at all was said between us for the duration of our meal, the awkward silence bearing down upon me until he sat down his after dinner tea and looked up at me.

"Rocket's comin' along quicker than I thought it would," Captain Highwind said to me, his eyes dropping away and back down to his hands on the table.

I nodded. "Well, there are a lot of people working very hard for you, Sir."

He made something between a grunt and a laugh at that. I think he was agreeing. I also think the fact he'd poured back four beers with dinner was getting the better of him. Furthermore, his Southern drawl gets more pronounced when he drinks. It's endearing-- very endearing.

Feeling braver than I ever had in his presence, perhaps from the beer he'd given me as well, I asked him the burning question on my mind. "Captain… why out of all the people that are here did I get this position? I don't feel that I'm the most qualified at all."

I'll never forget what he did and said after that for as long as I live on this planet.

Captain Highwind leaned forward on the table and looked me square in the eye. "I chose you, and before you ask me why, I'll outright tell ya. Shera, you ain't the most experienced one on this crew. I know that, you know that. What… shit… I'm gonna admit somethin' to ya and you gotta swear to me right here and now that this conversation never happened, all right? If ya do tell this to anyone, I'll kick your ass offa the program."

"I won't tell a soul, Sir." My heart was pounding in my ears. What possible reason could he have to want me as his top engineer?

Captain Highwind suddenly didn't look so hard and cold as I'd come to know him. There was something behind his eyes that I'd never witnessed before in this man. "This rocket is my life-- both literally and figuratively. If it fails, I fail. I die if this doesn't go right. There's a lot to be said for many of the very professional, aloof engineers that are workin' on this but… You're the only one on this team, Shera, who don't look at me like they do. To them, I'm just a piece of that machine, and they treat me like it. You don't. You treat me kindly all the time, no matter what I say or heft upon ya. I don't know why y'all are compelled to try and treat me like a friend but… I feel that ya do. Maybe I'm full of shit but…"

I watched as he suddenly dropped his gaze back to the table top, a profoundly uncomfortable air descending around him. "…out of everyone here, I think you're the only one that remembers that I'm a real person. I think you actually give a fuck about my survival through this. That right there makes you the most qualified one there is to oversee this project. I think it makes you a lot more thorough than many of the others who are just in a rush to see this thing done and go for the glory. You ain't in it for that, though. You're in it… because…"

As his cheeks took on a deep flush, I couldn't help but instinctively finish that sentence for him. "…because I'm the only one who cares about you and not the rocket."

"So I'm not out in left fuckin' field with that, then?" he asked, bringing his gaze back up to mine and leaning back again.

"Not at all, Sir. Your survival has become my greatest concern. I'm terribly afraid." I couldn't believe I'd admitted that to him. Then again, he'd just given me the first real indication that what I've thought about him deep down was actually correct.

"Shera… so am I."

I don't even remember if I was breathing when he said that to me. All of my speculations about him had been right, painfully, painfully right.

He looked over and out the window to his left. "Thing is, this is my destiny, one way or another-- live or die, failure or success. What happens, happens… and we're just along for the ride. Fate put me here for whatever reason she's got, and I'm here 'til the bitter end."

"Fate…" I felt that word slip past my lips as I followed his gaze out the window and over to the rocket, lit up in the night thanks to the lights that shone upon it. "So… why has fate pulled me into this?" I openly wondered.

"I dunno… but there's a reason for everythin'. Maybe it's about the rocket… maybe it ain't. Maybe this is just the way life is settin' you up for somethin' else that's gonna be important. Fuck, if I could see the future, Shera, I'd be a rich man for one, and not losin' sleep over this project for another." He said back to me, his eyes coming over to meet my own.

I cracked a smile at that, not knowing what else to do and in response, Captain Highwind laughed. He honest to God laughed! That's the first time I've ever heard him do that.

A few minutes later, he got up, tossed some money on the table to cover our check, and then offered me a smirk. "Well, Miss Shera, I'm headin' home. See ya tomorrow."

I gave him a smile and a nod. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl." He moved toward the exit, patting me lightly on the shoulder before vanishing from view.

I was scared before with just what I thought was going on with this project and in the Captain's mind, now having had it confirmed-- I'm downright mortified.

God in heaven I'm terrified. His life is in my hands, and that's what he wants? What in the Hell is the man thinking?

Deep down, though, I understand.

I think I understand…

Maybe I'm just deluding myself.