Chapter 16• Welcome
*Still Day 9 of Origenes Crisis*
/
My immediate reaction was, of course, relief.
At last, I did it!
One exhale and all of the heat in my throat was gone.
I knew that sooner or later, reality would set in, and I'd feel the crushing expectations of what came next.
But the brief respite from the stress was a beautiful feeling.
We were adjourned to another conference room where the three members of the prime crew would sit down with our flight director.
I wasn't surprised about the two joining me.
Apparently, they had already been chosen for the positions and the Mission specialist seat was the one that caused the most discussion.
Arlo would be given the Mission Commander title and serve as the Command Module pilot, responsible for sitting in the "driver's seat", orbiting the moon alone while Weston and I did what we could on the surface, and rejoining the two halves of the spacecraft together after the Lunar module- and hopefully a fixed Origenes telescope- had successfully lifted from the surface.
Hypothetically speaking, if something happened with the Lunar Module's ascent engine and we ended up stuck on the moon's surface, it would be Arlo's duty to leave us behind and bring Origenes home.
The Lunar Module Pilot seat was filled by Weston, who would be responsible for getting us down to the surface and supporting me while I worked on the telescope.
The idea of spending extended amounts of time with Weston was not a thrilling one, but I felt that now, he had to accept me.
If the higher-ups saw me as the best candidate, there was nothing he could do.
I hoped so, anyway.
Just like many other occurrences, what was once the quiet wing of a building now bustled with high activity.
Everyone was rushing around, as if they finally had permission to put things in motion now that the prime crew had been named.
Arlo, Weston, and I.
We all sat at the table together, as if the flow of time had sped up and we were the only ones unaffected.
Although, we had plenty to think about.
To my surprise, Weston was the first to break the silence.
"Thank God they picked someone, I thought we were going to be there 'til midnight", he said.
Arlo agreed, "I'm positive the big-wigs in there were only concerned about the money they were losing just sitting around."
Arlo then turned to me.
"I think Kingsley was gunning for you to be the mission specialist since day one, he's not that good at being subtle."
"Well, I thought it was weird that he came to see me himself, but it just showed me how serious everything was", I said, "And still is…..."
"That's funny, an intern hand-delivered a letter that said they needed me. It would have been nice to have heard it from someone else before orientation….", Arlo said.
"Yup, me too. Guess an email was too risky", said Weston. "Though I'm not entirely sure who or what we'd have to be so concerned about."
"Did they happen to ask you who you wanted to fill the Specialist spot?", I asked, afraid of what answer I'd get the second I said it.
They looked to one another and then back to me.
"They didn't take our input into account", said Weston, this being the first time he'd looked at me in a while.
"Ah, well…", I stopped as I saw Mr. Kingsley himself approach the table.
"Well, looking good prime crew!", he said, shaking each of our paws.
His presence alone made each one of us smile.
"Sorry if I had to do the more 'hands-off' approach- that was not my choice. But now, you're probably going to be sick of me before long."
"About that, are we absolutely certain we're the one's going, or is there some kind of condition in place that we aren't being told about?", Arlo asked.
Weston and I looked to Arlo, then to Mr. Kingsley in anticipation.
"Yeah, I can see why you'd ask that. Nothing seems set in stone when it comes to this thing, but I'd say you're in and you aren't going anywhere barring some unforeseen emergency", he replied.
I sighed again, relieved that the initial push seemed to be over.
Mr. Kingsley noticed, "Don't get too relaxed though Rocky, this is when the real work begins. You all have been doing fine focusing just on work, but now you're going to have all of the 'fun stuff' on top of your everyday preparations."
"Talking to reporters, photo shoots, waiting on each other for more 'rousing' three-person simulations?", said Weston sarcastically.
"Yep, that's what we're getting at", Kingsley said.
Weston groaned.
"Okay, so it says on the itinerary that we have a little break before talking to Dr. Ulrich next", Arlo said.
"Oh yeah I almost forgot about that", Mr. Kingsley said.
He grabbed my itinerary, balled it up, and tossed it in the trash can across the room.
"Nice shot", Arlo said.
"You… you could have at least recycled that paper", I said quietly.
That was too much for Arlo to bear, as he burst out laughing.
"You know what, you're right", he said, retrieving it and finding a recycling bin.
After Arlo composed himself, Mr. Kingsley continued.
"You all are on a new itinerary now, and I'll be in direct contact. All you have to do is call."
He handed us three cell phones, all of them identical down to the Origenes model lock screen.
"These are for contacting me and me alone, so use them", he said.
He then pulled out his personal cell and sent us all a text:
"Meet in room 290 in a half an hour :)"
"Until then, gents!", he said with a smile and walked down the hallway.
Weston and Arlo immediately got up and went separate directions without saying a word.
I was left to sit with my somewhat mellow thoughts.
In all honesty, I was sad that Soot hadn't made the prime crew, since he was the only other astro that went out of their way to talk to me.
From what I understood though, he was training as a Command module pilot, which made me wonder if my underwater training alongside he and Arlo served as the committee's testing for who would be commander of the prime crew.
If Soot had made the prime crew, he would have been replacing Arlo-not Weston.
I still worried about how things would work between Weston and I.
Just then, Reece walked into the room.
He and I had never spoken. In fact, all I knew about him came from other people, though his storming out of orientation left quite the impression. No-one could say he wasn't a passionate astronaut candidate.
Though I figured that he and Lucille, since they were the only other astros in the meeting with the committee, were the two I beat out for the Mission specialist position.
He didn't look mad this time though.
"Hey, I just wanted to stop by and say congratulations to ya", he said, extending his paw.
I shook it.
"Thank you, Reece. I really appreciate it. They didn't talk your ears off afterwards, did they?", I asked.
"Oh, you know it. They can't just relegate you at NASA, they have to tell you exactly what you did wrong, what you should have done, and the super unlikely chances that you get moved up", he replied.
"Man, I guess I shouldn't take that as a surprise, coming from them", I said, then added, "Erm- I'm sorry about that."
"So, word on the street is, ya barely edged me out in technical know-how. I don't really mind being the second-fastest- or….well… third fastest 'gun' in that department", he said.
"Oh gosh… I had no idea", I said.
He shrugged, "Don't stress it, Reserve crew isn't bad at all. Plus, I didn't really want to be the first to do this. They also told me that being on a reserve role means I'm automatically moved to backup crew next time, and then prime after that. So, I'll get my flight one of these days, you just worry about your own plate for now, yeah?"
"Yeah, I gotcha. Best of luck there, Reece", I said.
"Hey! It's not goodbye or anything, but I'll see you when I see you. Erm…...let's say launch-day, since I have no clue when or if our new itineraries will line up", he said.
"Yeah, thanks again….", I said with a smile, "Until then."
He smiled and left, but as he crossed through the doorway he stopped and turned to someone. He made a face, almost as if he were convincing someone to enter.
And then, through the same way the White Labrador took his exit, a familiar Border Collie made her entrance.
She looked somewhat reluctant to give me any praise.
"Hey, so….", she cleared her throat and composed a straight face, "you took my advice about getting yourself together and made the cut."
I put a front paw behind my head.
"Oh, well. You're right, I guess I did", I said.
"Well, that's good. You'll be going to the moon like we wanted for you. Congratulations on that", she said.
"Thank you, Lucille. It still doesn't feel real, but neither does any of this. I think I already told you that, but I'm ready to make my mark up there", I said, hoping that I spoke enough to not create any silence between us.
That would have been a nightmare.
"From what I heard, you picked up G-force training much quicker than I. Not much I could have done in that area, so at least I won't be staying up at night wondering how I let myself slip", she said.
My first instinct was to tell her that it would have been hard for anyone and that she shouldn't worry, but I stopped myself.
She didn't need to hear someone tell her that.
"I think my time with the PAW Patrol until now really helped me more than I realized", I said.
She nodded her head, "Well, just know, I'll be taking your spot if you get sick or something- I won't feel bad about it either."
"I understand", I responded.
She turned and made her way towards the door, but then turned back.
"Also, good luck. Really. It's not going to be easy fixing that thing, but I think you could work a miracle same as I", she said.
I nodded, "Thank you."
I decided to spend the remaining two-thirds of my break walking around the new building I'd found myself in.
Since a team of "helpers" hadn't tracked me down, I decided to take advantage of the freedom.
I walked through room after room, being careful to only look in the ones with doors open.
Some rooms were empty, others were packed to the brim with supplies that had yet to be unloaded, and others still were full of schematics and diagrams on chalkboards- almost as if they hadn't been touched since NASA launched its first rocket in 1926.
What I came to notice from the people I saw, however, was a drastic change in attitude towards my presence.
Word had traveled fast it seemed. People went out of their way to speak to me out of nowhere, almost as if I were a celebrity.
I wasn't just getting an errant smile every now and then, I was being encouraged.
Everyone's enthusiasm for my success was infectious, mostly because I could tell it was sincere.
It was beginning to dawn on me what a drastic difference a few days made in my life.
I worked my way back to room 290 just in time, as I continued to converse with a convoy of new "fans" that had found me during my excursion.
More awaited me inside.
Mr. Kingsley, Arlo, Weston, and I found a seat on the far side of the room behind a table.
Important looking people started approaching us in order, giving their best wishes meet-and-greet style.
What shocked me most was the high level of diversity among them.
They all thanked us, as if we had already done them proud.
Every now and then Mr. Kingsley would lean over and whisper something to me about the person I had just talked to.
"That guy was the main architect of the Origenes program in the first place, he's got a lot riding on this"
"Basically, the CEO's best friend"
"Good job, that used to be my boss"
"Their family has been in the Rocket business for four generations"
"Your friends will never believe you met her, remember the last name"
As overwhelming as it was, it also reminded me a lot of working back in Adventure Bay, or rather back when I was a constant face in the working core of the PAW Patrol.
Back in the early days of our operation, we'd get mountains of questions and letters about our jobs.
People asked if we got paid, if we were happy, how many lives we thought we'd saved, and so on and so forth.
After almost exactly an hour of this, the room cleared out.
I turned to see Arlo and Weston looking miserable and exhausted.
"Don't worry boys we're almost done", Mr. Kingsley said with a smile.
"You know what, I'm just gonna be up-front and say I don't believe you", said Weston as he rested the back of his head on his seat.
"Hey now! If you're this tired now, how do you think working on the moon is going to go?", asked Mr. Kingsley.
"The way I see it, I would have been so bored on the three-and-a-half-day journey to get there that I'd be begging for something to do by the time we actually hit the surface", Weston replied.
"Look, Arlo is literally falling asleep over here", he added.
Arlo, who had been noticeably nodding off, re-righted himself.
"Ooops, sorry. It's been a long….well- week. Plus, I had some very aggressive paperwork going on before that lengthy council meeting", he said.
"Alright, point made", Kingsley conceded, "I guess we'll just fast-track the last bits and see Dr. Ulrich tomorrow."
He then led us down the hall into a large, multipurpose room.
It was packed wall-to-wall with booths. Each one was stacked tall with NASA-branded everything.
And I do mean everything.
Hoodies, shirts, shoes, shorts, hats, magnets, blankets, thermoses, book covers, mugs, glasses, briefcases, candles, bonnets, maps, globes, posters, tablecloths, cookware, pocket watches, notebooks, dog beds, even non-toxic chocolates.
And yes, beanbags were included in the "loot room" as well.
We were given a huge cart and were told to grab whatever we wanted.
I was a bit hesitant, since I wasn't one to take a mountain of stuff I didn't need.
I grabbed a pen and then immediately put it back.
At the sight of this, Mr. Kingsley gave me the option to send some loot back home to Adventure Bay.
I liked that idea, especially so the pups could have things too.
I was taking quite long to look through things, but I stopped when I saw Arlo, Mr. Kingsley, and Weston in front of the last booth of branded attire.
But it was unlike the others.
"I was hoping to show you the mission insignia in a more professional manner, but this has to do I guess", Mr. Kingsley said.
Displayed on a television was our mission insignia, the seal that would represent our venture to the moon- sink or swim.
It wasn't anything terribly fancy, but I liked it.
The central symbol was a half paw- half human hand. This was obviously to signify that this venture had canines in the astronaut positions and humans in- well, every other job. An inter-species project.
Encircling the half hand- half paw were the trails of two shooting stars that formed a disconnected circle
Although it was somewhat hard to see, within the circling shooting stars was another circle made up of a thin chain with a few broken links.
I wondered what that was supposed to signify.
The center, the stars, and the chain were all white and filled in with dark blue.
However, there were three bright yellow, eight-pointed stars above the top half of the seal, I assumed to symbolize the three astronauts.
Under the screen sat a few things branded with the seal- tumblers, folder casings, tiny flags that sit on tables- things like that.
"Pretty soon, that thing will be everywhere", Mr. Kingsley said.
Arlo, Weston, and I stared- the same expression across our faces.
In that moment, I felt like I shared a bond with every other astronaut before me. The same fuel pumped through our veins.
Yep, it was definitely beginning to feel real.
*The next day*
*Day 10 of Origenes Crisis*
The sun rose on my first day as the Mission Specialist, set to leave the planet in three days.
Sleep was- well…. sporadic.
I hadn't even been awake 5 minutes before Sophie knocked on my door.
"Rocky, oh my gosh! I didn't get to tell you congratulations! I knew you'd get picked, politeness like yours can't be taught- I really believe that, you know!", she said.
"Thanks Sophie! I really couldn't have done it without you", I said through the door.
I heard a pause followed by a rustle of papers.
"Let me guess, we're running late?", I asked.
"Absolutely! But I suppose they can't start without you, so just move at a modest pace, alright?", she said.
"Can do!", I replied.
After getting myself together, I was once again on the move.
This time, in addition to Sophie, 7 attendants accompanied me wherever I went.
And everywhere WE went, we encountered a whirlwind of activity.
People were rushing everywhere, as if their very lives depended on them getting to their respective destinations.
I was taken to a room with a window overlooking the Lunar module and Command module mock-ups (recreations) that we had gotten to know so well.
As expected, Weston, Arlo, Mr. Kingsley, and Dr. Ulrich all sat waiting.
"I promise, we'll feed you after this- skipping breakfast doesn't help anyone- but this right here is important", Dr. Ulrich said.
"We don't need you to feed us, just point us in the right direction and let us do our thing", Weston shot back at her.
"You're right, that's what I should have said, my apologies", Dr. Ulrich replied.
Mr. Kingsley took the reins, with Dr. Ulrich only interjecting when necessary.
This was essentially just a rundown of how the mission would go (again) and what we would be responsible for at that moment- minus all the fluff.
The crew, more specifically Arlo, would be taking command of the NASA-constructed Cygnus RSV3- standing for Recovery and Support Vehicle-in its third iteration.
My personal curiosity for machines tempted me to ask what improvements were made from the first and second models, but it didn't seem like the proper time.
From the time we'd lift off, NASA would have periods of control and would hand them back to us with due warning when the time was right. What we needed was practical know-how for our respective roles.
For the Lunar Module pilot position, Weston would be the one getting the two of us down onto the moon alive, alongside our equipment for raising the telescope from its crash site.
Commander Arlo's role in the command module seemed appropriate. Although an untrained eye might see it as taking a metaphorical 'back seat' by not going down to the moon with us, Arlo would be the one taking us all home eventually. After the command module separates from the lunar lander, it would orbit the moon for as long as it took to get the job done. Afterwards, the lunar module would lift off of the surface along with the telescope, and Arlo would engage rendezvous sequence to bring the two halves back together.
As Mission specialist, my time to shine would come once Weston had put me in position to work on the telescope from the inside out until I could either fix it or declare it too damaged to save.
The plan at launch, as it stood, was for NASA to remotely steer the rocket up until the point where its first two stages detached.
Stage one being the most important, magnificent, and dangerous- The Launch Vehicle.
The Cygnus Launch vehicle produced 5 million pounds of thrust (2267961.85 Kgs).
Not quite up to the 7.6 million of the almighty Saturn V, but the still staggering amount of force made my head spin.
I was beyond ecstatic to be anywhere near such a machine, never mind having a "ticket" to ride in it.
The thought alone made me smile, though my nerves tried to stop me.
If all went well, we'd be "100% in charge" by the time we went into orbit around our home planet.
Dr. Ulrich obviously had experience in giving important information presentation-style.
A television mounted on the wall cut to a live feed of the main hanger of NASA's Vehicle assembly building (VAB).
My eyes went wide, and I gasped a bit louder than I wanted to.
She smiled. I guess she had me right where she wanted me.
We watched as a massive heavy-lift crane held the uppermost stage of the rocket over the bottom half- which comprised the aforementioned launch stage.
This process was called "stacking".
What was even more impressive, however, was the immediate sense of scale offered by the workers on the rocket.
About 8 engineers sat underneath the suspended top and ate their lunch with thousands of pounds of metal lofted mere feet above their heads.
I envied the amount of faith they had in the cables holding it up.
"I echo Rocky's sentiment, since they never let us see it outside of pictures", Arlo said. "So, it will be fully stacked soon, right? I can't imagine any more delays if we want to get out of here in a timely manner."
"Oh yes, by day's end the completed three-stage beauty will be ready to roll out. We just need to stack, attach the external tank, and place the tiles", she replied.
Dr. Ulrich swapped camera views and showed us the rear.
"Woah, so after it's fully put together it will be taller than the statue of liberty!", I said. "Minus the pedestal."
"That's right, base to torch! I can't wait until you all see the finished product. Undoubtedly one of- No, THE most sophisticated piece of engineering greatness on the planet!"
As she continued talking, I couldn't help but be swept up into the wave of anticipation.
Dr. Ulrich taught me things about the rocket that even I didn't know.
For one, Dr. Ulrich explained the clean-burning liquid fuel that the rocket would use, not just in its launch stages, but also to lift either the landing module and/or the telescope off of the moon.
Since this was originally supposed to be a human-crewed spacecraft, it was originally meant to be the first rocket to use "hybrid" fuel.
Liquid fuels, in our case liquid hydrogen, would be a potentially safer choice than solid or hybrid rocket fuels.
These fuels were still in varying levels of production and testing. An admittedly dangerous trade- everything from algae and candle wax to Plasma and Kerosene were being considered.
Hybrid rocket fuels, seen as safer alternatives to solid and liquid ones, would operate in a system where an ignited oxidizer would be forced into a tank containing only solid fuel.
However, we didn't have any kind of time to test these different fuel dynamics, which may or may not produce the thrust necessary to get the massive thing into space.
Our rocket would be liquid fueled, where fuel and oxidizer would be held in large tanks and fed into the rocket chamber separately, where they mix and burn.
Valves would be used to throttle different parts up and down during flight. Our NASA confidants on the ground would be in charge of all of this, so there was nothing we could really do about the choice.
Of course, as a pup with a deep love for the planet Earth, I was happy to be a supporter of a potentially clean-burning rocket.
Although technically it was a 3-in- one rocket carrying two separate engines inside of it.
The "fuel-heavy" nature of the mission was enough to make anyone unnerved, since the risk of a catastrophic explosion lurked pretty much anywhere.
I decided to speak up about my concerns.
"So, Dr. Ulrich. Is there anything we can do about the extra engine we're carrying? I mean, the descent engine is attached to the lunar lander of course, but I'm talking about the mobile one we have for the telescope.", I asked.
"Well, getting in a rocket ship is always going to carry rocket-risks, you're smart, you know that", she said straight-forwardly. "But, the ascent engine that you will bring to the telescope will be assembled once you're on the moon. My advice- move one container at a time before you combine and fire. We made sure that no outside stress will impact that, there's a timer for everything that will give you plenty of time to get far from it."
"Provided we land in the designated zone- not too close, but not too far from Origenes", Weston said, "Otherwise we'd have to drag those things over an ungodly distance."
Arlo also chimed in, "This is easy for me to say since I get to disconnect from the two of you", he paused for a laugh, "but the storage units all have springs and padding so that the walls buckle and nothing inside gets jostled, not even when the stages separate. You know, while we get tossed around in the cockpit."
"My advice….", Weston said, "Each of us picks a barrel and we make it our separate responsibilities to check them once we get down there. Communicate every time you're moving them and keep the other one in storage no matter what- it's gonna save a lot of headaches."
"I agree, precaution is always best. But still, setting a wheat field on fire doesn't make a ton of bread- you need yeast, flour, and other things you know! So, don't fret about that", Mr. Kingsley added.
"Excellent metaphor there", Dr. Ulrich laughed.
After conversation would down, she asked us how we felt.
We all answered pretty much the same.
We were ready to move forward- not much else to say.
Soon thereafter, I was left with just Weston and Arlo.
A few leftover papers sat on the table. Arlo grabbed one sheet and a pen. A smile crept onto his face once more.
"Okay boys, so I'm sure you both know. We get to name this bad boy!"
"I completely forgot about that", Weston and I belted out at the same time.
Arlo smiled, "Just like the great astronauts of the past! We have to make them good though, this is how we'll be remembered. Plus, it's literally the only creative liberty we get to express."
"Wanna name the whole thing 'Molly Brown' and call it a day?", Weston said apathetically.
"What. No! I love Gus Grissom, but we can't steal his flow like that", Arlo protested, "Besides, we have to name the Command module and the Lunar lander separately. You know, codenames, so we know what each one's doing while we're split apart. The rocket already has a name."
"Command module- 'Molly'. Lunar module- 'Brown'. Done.", Weston replied.
"You are no help at all", Arlo said and turned to me. "Rocky, got any ideas?"
"None at all. I mean, I want it to be serious, like we aren't trying to make a joke of things, but I don't want it to sound like we took things too seriously", I said, hoping I made sense.
What I thought would be a quick process ended up eating almost an hour.
The papers quickly filled up with a multitude of names that were crossed out within minutes.
Finding one that any two of us agreed upon was an order as tall as our new rocket.
Arlo then broke a period of silence when we had no ideas.
"I've got it! We'll name the Command Module 'Germania'!"
Weston and I looked at him.
"Why Germania?", I asked.
"I am so glad you asked", he said with a smile, "I grew up in a city with a historic Germantown in its interior. Main street was super close to my house. In addition to some unreal baked goods, the symbol of"-
"A flower! It sounds like it would be the name of a flower", Weston interrupted.
Arlo snatched a piece of paper Weston had been holding and corrected him, "No, it's not a flower to my knowledge. But there were always statues of her in the fountains, on murals- in fact they even renovated a place and uncovered an 19th century Germania carved into the stone molding near a huge chapel-building.
She's a strong female figure, meant to be a symbol of unity and peace. People will love that! I'm not German myself but I just thought it sounded cool. A symbol for home too, at least for me", Arlo concluded.
I nodded.
"I mean, that's as good a reason as any", I said.
"Ok Arlo, so YOU got to name YOUR vehicle, don't leave us without anything to go on", Weston said.
I thought long and hard, but the ideas stopped flowing.
"I can't think of anything that goes along with 'Germania', I mean this isn't Peanut Butter and jelly or anything like that", I finally said.
"Dear lord, please don't tell me you were actually entertaining the Command module 'Peanut Butter' and Lunar module 'Jelly' idea", Weston said.
Arlo and I laughed, but Weston was serious.
"Well, your lunar lander is going to be called 'Imbrium base' once it's on the surface, NASA already established that", Arlo said.
"I mean, we can just Google a popular fictional name and use that, or we can take an old-school Apollo module name and just use one of those- like as a 'tribute' or something", Weston replied.
"Oh, that's no fun", Arlo said.
"Well, hasn't NASA used the name 'Endeavor' like three or four times already?", Weston protested.
At Arlo's observation, I thought of our Lunar lander's appearance.
I thought of how tall it stood, its foundation-the way it would become a sanctuary for our work as we'd try to bring Origenes back to workable shape.
"Lunar Module- 'Chapel'!", I spat out, then immediately regretted it.
"Okay, that's fine", Weston said.
"Works for me", added Arlo, "Germania and Chapel against the world!"
"Wait, maybe not- after all- maybe it would be seen as sacrilegious or maybe- too much to the contrary. Maybe…... we should think of another one", I stammered trying to think of every possibility.
"Nah, I'm not dedicating any more brainpower to this", Weston said.
"I think we've got it. Once I tell Kingsley, it's not our issue anymore. We're the ones in the driver's seats now. They can't expect complete political correctness from the team they picked on short notice", Arlo said.
"Yeah, let the historians talk about it afterwards, I say", Weston shrugged.
I conceded, "Alright then, I didn't want to be the one to just pick the name, but I don't see any harm in it."
"In a perfect world, they won't either", Weston said.
Just like that, we had the names of our Command and Lunar Modules.
Germania would be the mothership, our life support, our only hope to get us back to Earth.
Chapel would be our ferry down to the surface, the lifeboat carrying astronauts to the face of Earth's nearest celestial neighbor- the only hope the damaged telescope had.
Well, ourselves- in addition to the technology- would be the only hopes.
Our new schedules had a bit more wiggle room, but we could all tell we'd run into picture-taking time.
"Oh man, I had forgotten about the pictures! I look a mess", said Arlo.
"I can't really tell a difference", Weston said.
"Just be sure they get your good side! These will be the ones that will hang on the mantles in your homes. Millions of people will know our names and faces soon", Arlo grinned.
"Well, I guess you're right, as soon as NASA makes it public, we'll be kinda…. famous", I said.
"You're already famous Rocky", Arlo smiled and left the room.
He was right, in a way. If only he knew how I had been feeling those months beforehand.
Before I could find a mirror and fret over my appearance, however, Weston cleared his throat and walked beside my chair.
"Rocky, I hope you realize the severity of this position. I mean, I get you're young but you can't treat this like a little kid would", he said, reviving his stinging fashion of speaking when only he and I occupied a room.
"Aren't you only a year older than me?", I asked, as I stood up.
"A. That doesn't matter. And B. My age isn't any of your business", he snapped.
I sighed, "You know what, you're right…... But I can't-", I paused, "I can't see how we're going to carry on if I can't say a handful of words to you."
He seemed surprised at my tone of voice, but he backed off a bit.
"I…...suppose you're right. I haven't been very…...agreeable with you", he said. "Arlo has had a little over a year to chip away at me, a luxury that you didn't have."
I leaned my head to the side, hoping my expression conveyed how I was actually feeling for once. It was my turn to be unimpressed.
"This entire operation, it just rubs me the wrong way. I mean, Dr. Ulrich herself shouldn't have any power over us, and wouldn't if our stances mattered."
I frowned; although anyone with eyes could tell that he wasn't a big fan her.
I could tell this was kind of important to him, so I didn't interrupt.
He went on, "It has nothing to do with her being a lady either, in fact- I hate that one of the first things they did was give us each a 'secretary' to ourselves. Have you noticed that they're all women? It just gives me a weird 1960s condescending feeling deep down. Combine that with this rushed, makeshift well…. Everything- and you've got a recipe for a mission that isn't worth it."
I failed to see how his concerns, valid or not, could in any way be alleviated if all he did was passively take his frustrations out on me.
Instead, I said, "Well, if you asked me, it's not like these 'secretaries' wait on us paw and foot or anything. In fact, I haven't really felt like I 'worked' here until we were actually appointed to prime crew. So basically, yesterday going into today."
He looked surprised, "Wow, that's something I actually didn't expect you to notice. Color me impressed."
It was odd to me how he'd go from cackling at me like I was a puppy learning to walk, and then taking on the deadly seriousness that even I had to agree with.
He cleared his throat, "Still, I don't know why they're capping it at 3 astros. More is better if you weren't going to use humans."
I hadn't given that any thought, but it seemed like a good point. Why was the limit 3? Was it just for tradition's sake?
Weston, in that moment, seemed to concede something. Like he was fighting a battle and lost in an instant.
"Arlo made CM pilot, so he'll be leaving us to our own devices at the critical juncture of the mission. It falls on our heads, pup", Weston said, "To get this done, we've got to work together."
I wasn't too keen on him calling me that, but anything trending towards a positive interaction with him felt worth it in my eyes.
"I know better than to sabotage a team's success if my feelings are the issue", he said.
He extended his paw.
"Is this your way of saying you wouldn't have picked me if you had the choice?", I asked.
He shrugged, "NASA had to have seen something. Who knows? Maybe the fact that we got picked means we were the dumbest of the bunch after all, or at least the candidates who asked the least important questions."
I didn't know what to say to that, but I shook his paw.
"Just don't get too comfortable, this doesn't need to come anywhere near 'friendship' levels- just working acquaintances", he said, as if it was necessary he reiterate.
"Sure", I said.
"I just hope, for our sake, that you know what you're doing", he said.
"I do", I replied.
***END of Chapter 16***