Chapter 10• Armogan
(Slight Warning for language this chapter)
*Day 4 of Origenes Crisis*
/
I woke up the next day completely out of it, as one could imagine.
I had collapsed into my own bed in a heap and slept on the covers. It was particularly odd that I had no memory of the route I had taken to get there.
I only remembered filling out a report, following a NASA worker, and walking into my quarters.
My NASA welcome basket as well as the goodies Ryder and the pups had given me sat untouched.
I dared to check the clock.
5 minutes before my alarm would sound.
Great….
As I readied myself for breakfast and thought on my first flight exercises, I supposed that my emotional triumph over my phobia was both mentally and physically exhausting.
Still, I knew it would only get harder from here.
I opened my door and none other than Sophie greeted me.
They weren't lying when they said I would rarely get time alone.
"Hey, before you get to breakfast, I should let you know that you've earned a bit of a nickname after yesterday", she giggled.
"After one day? That's kind of impressive since I've never had a nickname", I said, puzzled.
"Wow, really?", she said perplexed. "That's odd. I could think of a few, Rocky Top, Rocky Road, Rock and Roll, Rock Paper Scissors…."
I was impressed.
"You're right. Though, I guess my actual name already sounds like a nickname", I laughed.
"Well, since yesterday a lot of engineers, staff, and even some of the astros were talking about the way you came out of the model upside-down. So, they've been calling you the BAT!"
I tried not to sound disappointed, "The….Bat?"
Sophie must have read my expression.
"OH, don't worry. I'm sure they all mean it in good fun. Besides, I think it's pretty cool", she said.
I felt a bit better.
As I strolled into my own personal cafeteria, I felt compelled to ask, "Do all astros have to eat alone or is it some kind of 'by department' thing?"
Sophie shook her head, "I don't think the brass want you eating together until they have a team set in stone."
"That makes sense", I lied.
"Of course, that will be you and the other two who get to tag along", she said with a smile.
I smiled too.
She looked at the clock. "Oh boy! Already behind. You eat up quick and I'll see you soon."
She darted out of the room, papers scattering behind her.
I decided to keep breakfast small, despite the massive display of food on the table.
I knew that flight training awaited me, though I wasn't too concerned.
Hopping out of bed and into the air patroller for spur-of-the-moment air rescues was something that I had ample experience with.
Although no-one was keeping track, I was second only to Skye for total airborne missions.
Lots of things needed fixing at heights that construction crews couldn't reach, many more than you would think.
Cell towers, billboards, stadium spires, Clock towers- I even assisted two military planes undergoing mid-air refueling when their fuel line broke.
Still, those Air Patrol suits were made especially for us, just like every iteration of our pup-packs.
There was no time to worry- Astros don't worry, I thought to myself.
I found my way to the tram depot, which was located directly West of our building.
I saw several electric golf carts, some attached to one another in intervals of two, three, and four.
At the head of one two-cart tram was none other than my driver Whit.
I told him Good Morning and hopped in the back cart.
He took off.
He grabbed a microphone on the console so he could talk to me over the deafening noise of wind and aircraft.
I had remembered that Whit had shared with me his great skill at reading lips in a prior conversation.
"I'm taking you to hanger 22, right on the runway."
He added, "Great weather for flight training!", as he looked at me through the rear-view mirror.
I nodded in agreement.
Our ride was about 20 minutes, but it gave me a great look at the scale of the NASA complex.
Important-looking buildings gave way to large swaths of greenspace and a massive runway system akin to that of two airports sandwiched together.
The majority of the traffic were various cars, trams, and vans all emblazoned with the NASA logo (in both variants).
"So, uh…... have you heard about any of the others? Like, how they're doing", I asked.
"Well, I heard that Reece character is finally starting to shape up", he replied.
"Oh, that's good", I said remembering that look of fury and betrayal on his face before storming out of orientation.
"Yeah, I only hear so much chatting with the other drivers", Whit chuckled. "Almost like they've got you living on some kind of isolation protocol."
I laughed. But he wasn't lying.
He pulled alongside what I assumed to be hanger 22 and told me he'd see me later.
After I waved goodbye, I turned to find a side door to the complex with a dry erase board.
On it were the words- "ROCKY- Astro#X 10am"
Under my name and time also read- "CALLUM- CMP. 4pm" followed by "Come on in!"
I followed the instructions, hoping to find Callum waiting there ridiculously early to flight training, just so I'd have someone I "knew" to talk to.
Instead, I saw a beautiful, two-seated, Douglas TA-4F jet sitting majestically center stage.
Underneath it sat two pups, both of them mixed breeds. One had a mix of rust-colored and grey fur, the other light brown and gold.
Both looked a lot like me, splotches of color on each paw and one color dominating the area immediately outside of one eye.
They conversed and laughed back and forth until the rust-colored pup saw me.
"Oh, there he is. Beat it, Yester!"
The brown and gold pup raised his eyebrows at the other, waved to me, and took his exit through a door on the far side of the hanger.
The rust-colored pup wasted no time.
"Rocky, I have been waiting days to meet you my friend", he said as he shook my paw. "I'm Lieutenant MacGyver."
"Wow, Nice to meet you…sir. Might I add, that is a strong name", I said.
"Yeeeaaah, I've never actually seen the show, but my owner named me after another dog with the same name. Apparently", he replied.
I laughed.
After shooting the breeze for about ten minutes I learned that MacGyver was 6- same as me. He had joined the Air force at the recommendation of his owner, who was a captain. In fact, the military made a special program for aviator pups on account of his prowess in the air. He was also a huge PAW Patrol fan.
"Man, the first time I heard about you guys, I knew I was in good company. That Skye girl is amazing, I knew it was only a matter of time before they got you all flying."
MacGyver was certainly enthusiastic, yet not necessarily energetic. He spoke deliberately yet sincerely- you got the feeling that he wanted you to be the important one in every conversation.
I had met a kindred spirit, finally.
"I have to ask about the air patrol, sorry I'm biased", he smiled.
"No need to apologize. I don't mind answering questions. I mean, it wasn't until I left home that I realized that other cities didn't have pup-teams running around solving everyone's problems", I said.
"Well, they really should. Humans don't seem to be as willing to help strangers. But that's a whole other wheel on the river. I just wanted to get inside your head a bit. Like, did you happen to get any training with your gear or was it kind of a 'get up and do it' kinda thing?", he said.
"The latter. To be honest, the PAW Patrol has always been a 'learn by the seat of your pants' type of deal. You would go days without having any action and then have to hop in the air patroller to search for a missing hiker in the jungle right after helping an old lady pick the topmost peach from the tree in her front yard. You just…. learn on the fly out there", I said.
"Hmmm", he uttered as he threw some supplies into the cockpit. "Well, you should probably get changed into your shiny new suit and we'll see if that's a good thing, yeah?"
He handed me a NASA-branded garment bag. I ran to go change. In honesty, it was just as Sophie had said, it fit me to the very last dimension.
It was a bit unexpected, but incredibly comfortable at the same time.
By the time I had returned, MacGyver was gesturing for me to climb up into the second seat, right behind him in the plane.
The way these jet trainers worked was simple, the person (or pup in this case) in the front seat controlled the aircraft and would be in charge of passing the controls to the back seat pilot if need be.
I had already read the premise of my flight training over the course of my stay.
While those competing for the module pilot spots did super specific training and simulations, I was to get as accustomed as possible to the G-forces necessary for rocket-flight.
The equipment team had once again thought of everything. My flight suit featured multiple slots that perfectly fit the straps in the cockpit, despite the fact that MacGyver and I didn't exactly have the same builds.
In only a few minutes, I was flight ready. MacGyver closed the canopy, like closing the lid on a coffin. It was a far cry from my open, form-fitting hover pack.
I felt the jet's engine roar to life under me, wondering if the Cygnus launch vehicle would be anything remotely similar.
"Your body is gonna need to adjust to the suit a bit, so I'll just go 'foot-off-the-brake' here and cruise to the end of the runway", MacGyver said, then added, "Don't worry, I'll give you fair warning before I kick this thing into high-gear."
"Thanks, I'm a newbie when it comes to craft like this. I mean, the air patroller can reach some high speeds, but that's more of a 'comfort and efficiency' kind of vehicle where this one is-
"Made to chase down other planes and blow them out of the sky", MacGyver said in a rather cold tone.
"Yeah", I said sheepishly.
The engine started to hum a bit louder.
"Here, turn on your radio and we can talk that way", he said.
I put on my flight headset, which had been draped around my neck for the time being.
Since the radios were live, I only felt it natural to say something.
"Have you ever flown this model before, the Douglas I mean?", I asked.
"Oh yeah, though I've never used the two-seater. It's actually wired so that I can't pass you the controls even if I wanted to, or else I'd let you see how it feels once we get up there", he replied.
He then paused and looked to the sky.
"Thank God, couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day to do it!"
I looked up too, not a cloud in the sky.
"How you feeling back there?", he asked.
There was a very distinct difference as I wore the suit. I was aware of the concern of blood circulation to the brain, in humans as well as dogs. There were very deliberate points of pressure in the suit, most noticeable at the joints.
I could feel the blood flow in my appendages. What was once an uncomfortable sensation started to bring me a sense of calm.
"Laser-focused, honestly", I said.
"That's what we like to hear, just tell me if your vision gets narrow."
There on a clear runway we sat. Somewhere, 238,900 miles above us, the Origenes telescope would be trudging through the moon's gravity if it hadn't crashed already.
I remembered what day it was, what time it was, and how long it takes to get to the moon. In a stressful collision course, the telescope's orbit would decay mile by mile and it would skid onto its temporary resting place- the cold and unforgiving lunar surface.
We could only hope and pray that it would land on the light side of the moon, or we would be facing an entirely different beast.
The state I was in definitely allowed for more contemplation, unlike the atypical zones I found during sensory deprivation and being inside that darkened spacecraft model.
Time seemed to speed up in a way, yet I could see and acknowledge every second as it passed. Maybe that's what you get, spending time with someone you enjoy being around after coming to a strange new place.
"This waiting period isn't for building anticipation, just to let you know. Not like the 'brushing phase' during a 7-minutes in heaven stint", MacGyver laughed.
His metaphor, although unexpected, brought a smile to my face.
I was assuming he was referring to brushing your lips against another's during a 7-minutes in heaven kiss and not the literal brushing of one's fur- but I dared not share with him that I was disappointingly absent in experience on the first matter.
The elder-brother spirit seemed to hop from canine to canine, showing up at random as I met knew pups.
"I'm just hoping the schedule grants me some flexibility, so Sophie doesn't chew me out when I'm late", I said.
I instantly regretted saying this, even as a joke, since Sophie had been nothing but wonderful to me.
"It wouldn't be your fault; I'm waiting for air-traffic to green light me. Only plane on the runway and it's like I'm in bumper-to-bumper traffic!", he said frustrated.
A few moments later I noticed something flash green on his dashboard. He hit it and the light went out.
"Finally!", he said. "Alright Rocky let's kick it!"
I couldn't turn my head all that well so I couldn't see what was happening to the ailerons, rudders, or whatever else was on the plane, but it's safe to say I wasn't in any way prepared for MacGyver "hitting the gas."
Similar to a commercial plane starting its engines, the jet tripled its speed while still on the ground. The roar was incredible. MacGyver chuckled as the plane jumped off of the tarmac and ascended into the sky.
I remembered my first time with my PAW Patrol flight gear, I even remember long before then when Ryder strapped me into Skye's harness for a rescue for the first time ever. In both cases I had been paralyzed with fear.
This time, I felt entirely different. The entire world bent and curved underneath us and the sky became a ceiling.
MacGyver talked me through everything he did. Every maneuver, which were fairly simple and deliberate, would serve as steppingstones towards me being able to handle the power of a NASA Rocket's ascent.
Much like the Starship's Raptor engines, the Cygnus engines were labeled as "c7's." This name was likely given because they didn't have an official name for them, but the scale in the schematics showed that they were absolutely massive and powerful.
Minutes and hours meant nothing at that point, neither did schematics and diagrams. I loved every minute off the ground. Although I hated water more than anything, I was never a fan of heights either.
After a while, MacGyver leveled the plane out and we cruised. By that time, we actually were hitting clouds- flying through and eventually above them.
"Nothing like this right here! I mean I feel it less than I used to because I've done it so much, but I still feel it. What about you?", he asked me.
"It's beautiful. I just don't want to get too hyped…You know, since a space mission isn't going to be anything like it.", I said, knowing how much I'd miss a blue sky.
"Wow, listen to you- talking like you've already made the cut."
I realized something about MacGyver. All the time I had known him (not even an hour at that point), I kept comparing him to the PAW Patrol. The aspects of Chase, Skye, Marshall, Tracker, even Ryder that I saw in him.
I saw just how limiting that was, although I did it all the time. I didn't want to compare; MacGyver was all of the patrol rolled into one dog. A dog I was glad to have met.
"I don't want to interrupt your moment, but I wanted to ask you what you thought about NASA's image. Logos and whatnot."
I thought it was a strange choice of topic, but I answered him.
"Well, I honestly like them both- both logos I mean. Simplistic red one- "The Worm" they call it. People seem to like it because its 'retro'. I like seeing them on things, doors, vans, stuff like that. But the one they call "The meatball" is my favorite. I see it and immediately recognize what it means. Though I never liked that name- I mean it's blue, not red- why call it a meatball? I hear they're planning to use both like they do on the SpaceX rockets, so that helps", I said.
"Okay, I see. Well, you know, the red logo is actually more akin to aeronautics- the second A in NASA. There used to be so many planes-experimental stuff- with the "Worm" on it too. It was more than just rockets you know. Plus, it got the nickname from a critic of the logo itself, which I always think it's funny that they took the hit and ran with it", he said.
"Ah, that's actually a really good case for 'the worm', now I kinda wish I had said that one", I said.
"Nah, don't back off of your opinion like that. You stand by your 'Big blue marble' logo", he replied.
I laughed, "That's a really good name- It looks more like a marble than a meatball for sure."
The clouds began to break up underneath us, revealing the land below.
"I can tell you're pretty educated", he went on, "Not one of these guys who gets a position and then coasts because they've already claimed the opportunity. So, what do you think of the 'image of the astronaut'?"
He was calling on my historical knowledge now, which I valued much more than technical know-how.
"Well, Astronauts used to be looked at as crazy people- you had to have a screw loose to hop on board those crazy rockets. Mercury, Apollo- Gemini especially- just an ICBM that you stuck a little life- pod on top of. Just the label of a 'test pilot' makes me nervous. I mean, tech was faulty, and people were nowhere near as reliable. After NASA reached the moon, they actually became heroes. Super manly and dependable people. Then, as time went on, the image started to shift. It was suddenly 'cool' to be an astronaut, even without the push for national triumph. But just because launches got bigger and louder, doesn't mean the dangers weren't there still", I said, thinking on the tragedies that came before and still could come in the future.
"That's the truth", he said.
"Then, somehow along the way. People just saw Astronauts as kind of nerdy, no longer as awesome. Then we forgot about them entirely. Nowadays we think of college-interns and billionaires when we hear of people going to space. And that's just humans, you know? I mean, dogs can do the job just as good. I mean the others…...", I trailed off before I could knight them all as 'better than me.'
MacGyver didn't say anything for a while.
I sighed, "There's a lot to think about."
After a few seconds MacGyver spoke.
"Well, tell me about the air patrol- oops little dip here", he said as he turned the plane 100% vertical.
If I could have turned my head the left side of my vision would hold only land- the right side, only sky.
We were perfectly perpendicular to the ground, and it was an uneasy feeling.
I answered, "As much as I loved it- like, I couldn't say it wasn't any fun, especially when we all would fly as a team together. But I was always meant to be on the ground. Recycling and fixing- uh….stuff."
"Uh huh…", he prodded me on.
"M-My air patrol pack is literally the only one that doesn't have anything special about it. Just two thrusters to help me hover. I mean, Rubble has his flying hoverboard- matching his personal affinity for snowboarding- Chase has a glider, Marshall's has water cannons, Skye's pack can actually approach the speed of sound if she wants, heck- even Zuma's has a special tweak that lets him speed through the water. Mine's just-plain, I guess."
"Ahhhhh", he said. "That seems to bother you, huh?"
"I mean it would bother me too", he added.
There was no use in lying, it wasn't like anyone from home could hear me.
"Yeah, it did…. Because it fit me so well. I- well- I wasn't super memorable or called upon super often. Most humans only think I'm 'cute' because I'm a mixed breed. But people seem to forget about you if you aren't continuously in the public eye. Ryder and the pup's love me of course, but…"
MacGyver spoke up, "Well, I'm sorry to say you won't get that treatment here. It's the complete opposite. If you do this, humans everywhere will remember you forever. The whole 'dog in space' thing is kinda funny to them, even though we function in many ways better than they do- given the environment."
He paused again. "It's the dogs you've gotta watch out for here…. unfortunately."
He then re-righted the plane.
I let out a sigh, happy he didn't turn it upside-down.
"I'm really impressed with you Rocky. I was expecting you to pass out after that shift, but you carried conversation like a champ!", MacGyver said proudly.
I tried not to smile too obviously, but I was proud of myself.
After a while, MacGyver looped back around, and we landed right back at hanger 22.
The landing was smooth. Although I missed the sky, I thought being back at the ground would be a welcome prospect.
He popped the top after we rolled to a stop.
Yester, Sophie, and a few suited NASA folks awaited us.
The second I touched the ground; I fell to my stomach. The ground felt so hard, almost as if it was pulling me and shifting at the same time. MacGyver pulled me back to my feet before it could become a scene. To the others, I'm sure it just looked as though I tripped.
Sophie came up first, "Well, it looks like we're going to have to cut the debrief and get you back on a tram."
"Nonsense", MacGyver chimed in, "We have to debrief, it's Air force protocol!"
"Forget Air Force protocol", Sophie protested, "Rocky absolutely needs to get to his Module layout, switching, and egress training!"
"There will be plenty of time to Layout, switch, and egress later- me and Rocky need to unpack what went on- I threw a lot at him after all", he said.
Yester chuckled. Sophie shot him a look.
Yester cleared his throat and reassumed a straight face.
Sophie grumbled, "This is going to throw things off. We're working with miniscule wiggle room here."
"Well, then I guess we should stop jabbering and start talking. MacGyver said walking off and gesturing for me to follow.
I looked at Sophie first, "Don't let him talk your ear off", she said.
I followed MacGyver to a small building right next to hanger 22, outside of which sat the tram that I assumed would take me to my next spot. Behind that tram sat another, Golf-cart sized vehicle in idle. This one had a massive cooler in the back, emblazoned with the aforementioned "big blue marble" NASA logo. It was billowing with frost.
"Oh yeah, that's for you. Juice cart! It's good to have not just for hot days, I think cranberry and tomato are good for high altitudes and things like that", my aerial guide said.
I opened the back and was surprised. It was almost like my recycling truck back home. Inside held every juice flavor and flavor combination you could imagine alongside water. Every box was rectangular and was stacked on top from edge to edge for maximum efficiency of space. It was like opening a door to another world.
I made the quick decision of half-watermelon, half-blueberry and hurried inside the small building.
We sat at a table, only the two of us were present. A voice recorder was built into a console in the wall nearest MacGyver. He hit a button and started talking.
"Well, I know that was wild, especially coming back down to Earth. Space is gonna be a hell of a lot worse", he said.
I nodded.
"It was a lot, I know. But we're doing accelerated learning to get you ready- well, as ready as possible", he said.
I nodded.
"Is there anything you want to ask me?", he asked.
"Actually, yes", I said.
My quick response seemed to catch him a bit by surprise, despite the fact that he prompted me.
"Do you think I stand a chance at being selected?", I asked.
Then it was his turn to give a quick answer.
"A chance, yes. But if I were in charge, I can't say I'd send you, even given your reputation."
I did a half-nod to his comment. He continued.
"To be honest, I think your 'team' is well- balanced in the other two spots. Arlo in the command module and Weston in the Landing module", he said, referring back to the orientation's seating groupings that we were told didn't mean much.
"It's just that third spot- your spot, that I can't really say. That's the spot the others are looking at. They won't say that, but it's plainly obvious to me", MacGyver said, being careful not to divulge who exactly he thought could be added or removed from the trio to reach his standards.
He paused, then looked at the device on the console. He pressed a button, seemingly to pause the recording.
"In all honesty, I have a close friendship with Reece- the lab. He's from the Air Force. He signed up about a year after Yester and I did. And I'd be remiss to say I didn't think of Lucille. I know you know her Rocky."
I nodded.
"She's brilliant. Technically sound, works well with others. I saw how quiet and shy you got when I brought up that 7-minutes in heaven make-out game", he said with a smile. "Even so, I know you know what a smart girl looks like."
I nodded.
"Jeez, what is the dating scene even like for you up at the old Adventure Bay?", he asked with a laugh, clearly spurred on by my lack of a reaction.
"Umm... well…kinda nonexistent. Mostly humans live there, you know. Not many new pups are just walking around looking for love. I mean…. I guess life is full of chances that we never see- so we never took them, so…... who knows how many I've missed", I said.
I had to sit with what I had said for a second. A girlfriend was always something I wanted, but it always seemed to be just out of reach for me. I couldn't find a reason why, just maybe that you can't micro-think your way through everything in life.
"Honestly, Lucille was built for that Mission Specialist spot you're in", he said steering things back on course.
I found it interesting how he claimed to be close to Reece yet continued singing Lucille's praises with such a wistful look on his face.
Or…maybe I shouldn't have.
"Now, if you pull yourself together and kill it during G-force training, you may be at the 'discussion table.' But if you want my complete honesty, unless you and I start hitting the intensive maneuvers- and I'm talking 'Big-boy' stuff that even I'm not used to doing-"
He stopped again.
"You might just want to prepare to hear 'not this time, maybe next time'. There will be other flights you know", he said.
Whatever high I was riding from our inaugural flight was gone.
Would I even want it if it wasn't this flight?- If I couldn't save Origenes? If I had to spend even more time away from the pups? If I trained until my body gave out, just to hear 'no' again? Just to be stagnant, grounded, and alone again?
I saw the image so clearly, just like I always do. The other astros pretending to be empathetic- pretending to care about my pain. Making their best attempt at 'sincere' apologies.
"Oh, you'll go next time, I'm sure of it", assures Sophie.
"I'm sure there's something you can do on the moon, maybe in a year or so", says Arlo.
"It's an honor just to be considered, remember that", reminds Walt.
"We couldn't put you in that position, we just can't leave anything to chance", chant the NASA higher-ups.
"Trust that those above us made the right decision, you'll get over it", snaps Lucille.
"You just weren't made for it- simple as that", jeers Weston.
These hypothetical voices pound in my head- all audible, echoing, and to me- brutal.
"You know what MacGyver, I fear you're right", I finally said. I looked down, then up at him.
"But I want to be the one to decide when I'm beat. Not a suit and tie guy, not some general, not another astro, not my family. But me!", I said.
I surprised even myself, but it felt great.
"I'm not like you at all, because I didn't sign up for this- Air force, NASA, or otherwise. I was SELECTED, which means someone saw something in me that I missed. So, I'm gonna run with that- don't be afraid to flip that plane around again when you're with me. You know what? Feel free to do it again, because I want to go to the moon more than anyone else right now", I said.
I didn't stumble; I didn't stutter.
MacGyver was quiet. He smiled- then frowned.
"Damn, Rocky", he said, turning to the recorder next to us. "I really wish I had recorded that part."
****End of Chapter 10****