Chapter 17• Stall
(Slight language warning this time around)
*Still Day 10 of Origenes Crisis*
October 25th.
I was 10 days in at Cape Kennedy, and the PAW Patrol continued to help me in ways I never could have foreseen.
I knew how to differentiate over fifty types of nuts, bolts, and screws simply by the sound they made when they hit the ground.
I could fashion a structure that could support and move Capn' Turbot's entire ship (The Flounder) entirely out of repurposed wood.
The most relevant gift at the time, however, was how accustomed I had become to having numerous cameras assault me without warning- Full Flash.
As we were told, the media had heard next to nothing about NASA's plans to bring Origenes back from the moon- just that the administration was "working on a plan of action."
The world would soon see us three as the fruits of NASA's plan of action.
The higher-ups decided that the announcement would be done in the form of a 'surprise' press conference, one of the two we would be required to participate in before flight.
(It was somewhere in the paperwork).
After that, we'd continue with our official NASA picture-taking onslaught.
The conference would be held outdoors, with the vehicle assembly building and our "Brand-new ride" in the background.
We were told that the questions would be limited, but we could go into as much detail as we saw fit.
I was excited, but that was likely because I had underestimated the aggressiveness of the photographers, who managed to intercept us on the way there.
Arlo, Weston, and I didn't even make it onto the tram before we were ambushed by a cascade of camera flashes.
"Holy cow! Is that them? Do they work here, anyone know?", asked one.
"Looking good boys! NASA isn't messing around", remarked another.
"Hey, that's Rocky from the PAW Patrol!", one recognized me.
I smiled and waved but thought it best to not say anything until a microphone was in front of me.
I had forgotten that we all had put on red armbands that bore our mission insignia alongside the NASA logo. If it weren't for the single soul who recognized me, we probably would have looked pretty indiscernible from regular NASA workers aside from the security detail that shooed them away.
Arlo leaned over to me, "It's only getting started here, from today on they'll want to know everything about us- privacy be damned."
"Forget going outside for leisurely walkabouts. In fact, they'll snap you through the windows if you aren't careful", Weston chimed in.
I was beginning to realize that this was going to be a far cry from the wholesome, local news channels back home.
These people wanted answers, along with candid photographs of their young, canine heroes.
After our tram pulled away, it was tailed by about three cars.
More cars blocked our route as we arrived at the Vehicle assembly building.
We were instructed to wait in our seats until a security convoy surrounded us at all sides.
There was a clear path of black rope that led to a space behind a stage.
It all looked as though it had been hastily set up but was nonetheless professional.
As we walked, several media members with suits and microphones franticly peered around the security team.
Although the noise level made it difficult to discern entire sentences, I definitely heard "Rocky!", "PAW Patrol", "Prime", "Backup", "Space flight", "Hasty construction", and things of that nature.
Soon, we found ourselves ushered behind the stage.
As self-conscious as I should have been, I was more excited about finally being introduced as an astronaut.
Soon, we were joined by Dr. Ulrich, Dr. Rosen, and Mr. Kingsley, all in formal attire.
"How are you all feeling? Ready to take on the press?", Dr. Rosen asked.
"You'd better believe it!", Arlo assured him. "Though Rocky and Weston are looking a little nervous to me! Might wanna check on them."
"Oh?", Dr. Rosen said, "It's getting to you two already?"
"It's loud, that's all", Weston said.
I nodded, though I had dealt with larger crowds back at adventure bay, I didn't want to brag on that just yet.
Soon, NASA media teams came and gave us the breakdown.
We were to let the others lead and take questions from only the reporters that had already been approved to speak to us directly.
There was only one main microphone for the reporters to share, so any other questions that got blurted out we were instructed to ignore.
Of course, that wouldn't stop them from asking.
I understood where they were coming from, after all. This was a major shock and breaking the silence with an announcement that a member of the PAW Patrol was being put on a canine astronaut crew bound for a lunar rescue mission was a bold move.
We were assured that things would go smoothly from that point forward, since our "interrogators" were behind a black rope, and we would be behind our table.
Before we went out, however, Mr. Kingsley knelt down to our level.
"I know you're all exhausted but do try to smile. Think about it from the perspective of our …. Um… 'audience'. You aren't just some puppies somebody brought in for 'bring your pet to work day', you are an enthusiastic, composed, and professional team of astros selected from a pool of the best", he said.
We agreed we'd do our best to represent NASA well.
I noticed a kind of pleading tone in his voice, as if he weren't telling us exactly why this conference seemed to carry a different weight.
It was important, of course, because it proved that NASA had actually been doing something other than twiddling their thumbs.
The clock hit 4pm and the official NASA stream went live.
People all over the world would hear, slowly but surely, that the organization that first put a man on the moon was finally going back.
Although the timing meant that many would hear after returning home from school or work, pretty soon everyone would know our faces in association to one another, even if my face had already been somewhat 'known.'
This was my first-time adventuring without Ryder and the pups. I would be standing without my squad, but I wasn't alone.
We followed Dr. Ulrich, Dr. Rosen, and Mr. Kingsley out in front of a crowd of about 200 people. Nothing I hadn't seen.
The previously low murmur gave way to a more excited grumbling. Cameras flashed wildly, although they would switch to non-flash at the wishes of the NASA team.
All of a sudden, you would have thought there was a crowd of 2,000.
I jumped up, front paws first, onto the sixth chair from the left.
The table cover was adorned with our insignia just above "Cygnus Recovery & Support V-3 Inaugural mission", as was the backdrop.
Although I couldn't see it, the still unfinished Cygnus vehicle sat within the opened vehicle assembly building a half-mile behind us.
Each spot had its own respective microphone. Mr. Kingsley opened up by wishing everyone a good afternoon and hoping they had been hydrating to combat the heat.
The crowd laughed, obviously still riding the wave of excitement.
"We've had plenty on our plates as of late, but nothing more pressing than the formerly orbiting Origenes telescope. We know better than anyone the extent of monetary investment sunk into that piece of machinery. For those of you wondering, it was I who gave the order to fire the satellite's reverse thrusters. I felt that putting it on a collision course with the moon was preferrable to having it fall to Earth in pieces", he said.
"And for that, I take full responsibility."
The crowd became deathly quiet, aside from the wayward camera shutter. Though I could make out a few nods among the group.
He continued, a smile creeping to his face as he looked over to the three of us, "Now, thankfully, we've been given a second chance. We have confirmed that, although it is damaged, Origenes is in a salvageable position!"
People began chattering and shuffling around, writing down Kingsley's every word in notebooks.
"We apologize for our secrecy, but these matters are highly sensitive as you know. I can say with absolute assuredness that we have assembled the best team around, and our staff is running at 100% efficiency for the upcoming mission- which will be launching in a few days' time."
The crowd went into an uproar, their questions couldn't wait.
Dr. Ulrich decided to speak next.
"We are happy to announce that, after a period of intense discussion, we have decided to bring to life a canine astronaut lunar operation. The first of its kind, with three talented dogs at the helm. Some of you may recognize a few, others may not recognize any, but Arlo, Weston, and Rocky here will be in charge soon and I have the utmost faith that they will be bringing back a telescope that works better than it ever did!"
The crowd erupted again, this time with a flurry of noise and flashes.
The three of us waved to our onlookers. Arlo was an absolute natural, waving as if he were a member of the royal family. Weston was a bit more reserved that I was, but I felt that this was as good a time as any to be myself.
I grinned, as if I were at the lookout being selected for a mission with Ryder.
I met eyes with a photographer who smiled back. I looked her way, pointed, and winked. I was met with a subsequent flurry of flash photography from the left side of the pack.
Slightly out of my character, sure, but I got caught up in the moment.
Dr. Ulrich went on as the noise died down, "Origenes was not just a venture of great monetary investment, but it also represents the human capital of spaceflight. The dreams of those who chose to go, and the cost that all of us find ourselves weighing whenever we take a break from our daily lives to watch astronauts at work."
Her words, although sincere, came in an unfortunate order.
I'm sure many could find a double meaning in her speech. It almost seemed like NASA was only considering a canine mission now because we'd already lost human lives on a mission dedicated to repairing this same telescope. Although, the more optimistic listener would probably assume that new problems call for new solutions. Nothing more.
Whatever the interpretation, the speech wound down and the first reporter was permitted to step to the podium opposite our table.
Mr. Kingsley had introduced the three of us again but had prefaced that we wouldn't be saying much until the second conference.
Unsurprisingly, the first reporter- from a local Florida Newspaper- asked the big question:
"So, why are you all starting the canine project now? Were any human astronauts available to fix the telescope?"
"Well, no. None of the human astronauts were anywhere near flight ready. The closest one with any experience in telescope repair is a veteran astronaut located about six hours north from the cape here. We'd already been experimenting with our module interiors for canine passenger accommodation, and we felt that this would be a good fit", Dr. Rosen replied.
As the first fiddled with his notebook to locate a good follow-up, another reporter stepped up, "So is this trip to the moon, experimental in nature?"
"Yes and no. It's nothing we haven't seen before, just a new model of spacecraft and new individuals to run them. Very similar to our plans for the Artemis missions, just as the Apollo missions before it", replied Mr. Kingsley.
Then another:
"So, will this be a new trend at NASA? Having canine astronauts work on more negligible issues and then the more…...traditional approach for humans? Potentially going back to the International Space Station and hopefully Mars when we're ready?"
At this point, we could all tell that an even more unsavory question was coming soon, so a change of subject was in order.
Dr. Ulrich decided she would be the one to shift the flow, "The canine astronauts can do whatever they want, it's their agency right now. They're here, the human astronauts aren't. We're focusing on this mission now."
The third reporter didn't seem that satisfied with the answer he'd gotten but stepped down from the microphone.
Most of the other questions that followed were ones that even I could have answered.
Specifics on the rocket, what still needed to be handled, where you could watch on TV, et cetera.
The Launch date and time were set, October 28th, 12:30pm.
And then, it was time for us to be put on the spot.
Since the conference was only set for an hour, they rushed to get a shot at asking us anything.
The first questions were basic.
Where are you from originally? Have you been inside of the final rocket yet? How do you feel about the mission?
Then, they got a bit more personal.
Reporter from a website I had never heard of:
"Weston, this one's for you. As lunar module pilot, do you have any concerns about the landing procedure- since this module is larger and heavier than any ever put into use?
Weston: "Well, with that heavier frame comes extra support, as far as landing goes. The bottoms of the craft are made to sink into the dust, of course we don't know how far it will sink where we plan to land. The controls are much more precise than you'd believe though, I can't begin to explain it to you-we don't have that kind of time- but we're aiming for two things here; gentle and as close to the planned Zone as we can possibly land."
Reporter from a rising, neutral news channel:
"I have a question for you, commander Arlo. Is this your first time in a leadership position?"
Arlo: "Well, no. I've been leading other puppies around the playground since I was about two years old. I assume you're meaning- Is this my first time in a leadership position over other astros? When you're flying by yourself, you're still the leader of your craft, but you've got people in your ear telling you what to do. But I'm really excited to have people actually with me this time, that's new. New and exciting."
Reporter from a SpaceX-affiliated website:
"You've never been in training like this before, have you?"
Me: "No I haven't. I'm kind of out of my element per se. But they say true growth doesn't come when you're comfortable."
*Pause for laughter I genuinely wasn't expecting*
"But yes, to answer your question, this training has been the most intense thing I've ever gone through- G-forces, sensory deprivation, simulated disaster scenarios- but every day that passes I feel more and more ready. It's crazy, but it works."
Reporter from local technology magazine:
"Hypothetically speaking, is there any contingency plan for landing too far away from the crash site?"
Weston: "I would rather us shoot too 'short' than too 'long' on the landing- meaning we'd rather get too close than to do what you're saying. We can't move once we're down there on the surface unless it's on paw. Despite having space for the rover, we don't have one for this mission. Instead, we need to hold the portable ascent engine components and get the telescope up, but trust me, I've got every scenario playing out in my head so we're going to give ourselves the best possible shot."
Reporter from a Boeing-affiliated newspaper:
"What if Origenes is too damaged-worst case speaking? I know you have access to Earth satellites that can take pictures of things on the moon, but those can only get so 'close' without actually sending a spacecraft of some sort up there."
Arlo: "We are entirely prepared to make the three-and-a-half-day journey to find out the truth. There will be a series of revolutions around the moon before we would even start the process of getting Weston and Rocky ready to land. We'll do our fair share of looking. If it's a smoldering mess, we're turning around and heading home. But if it's still looks salvageable, we're going to give it our best. We won't know until we get there."
Reporter from the American Association for State and Local History:
"Rocky, I know many may not know about your role with the PAW Patrol in Adventure Bay- one I hope this is only a temporary hiatus from- but do you think they're missing you back home?"
Me: …
I paused, not sure how to go about answering that.
The question seemed to drown out the noise all at once.
It hit me like a ton of bricks.
Ryder, the pups, the entirety of Adventure Bay- would only be just-then seeing this on television. They didn't hear it from me, but they heard it from the News.
And if they were busy, they wouldn't hear anything until they got back.
The others slowly turned to me, obviously waiting for the lengthy, nearing-uncomfortable silence to end.
Had I really let the excitement distract me from telling them how I was?
I was half expecting one of those weird mike chirps to come- the ones you see on television that emphasize awkward moments- like a record scratch.
I looked over to the NASA TV monitor.
"I'm- sure they are. But I'm positive that I miss them more. I haven't been as available to them as I was before, but I am not making excuses for that. I wouldn't be here without them, so my hope is that- well… I can tell them to their faces once I get back."
The allotted hour ended unceremoniously.
Of course, the second following Mr. Kingsley bidding the crowd farewell for the sake of time, we were bombarded with the frantic shouting of questions alongside well wishes.
I just knew anywhere between 3 to 4 thousand new pictures of me were born that day.
Back behind the stage, Dr. Ulrich enveloped us in a group hug, telling us how well we'd done.
When she released us, Weston looked like he could have killed her, although he didn't squirm or struggle when she'd first grabbed him.
"You know, I wish you'd stop treating us like we're your pets or something", he snapped.
She appeared shocked, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry about that. Have I been doing something wrong?"
"Oh my gosh, yes! The things you say, and the way you say them. It's almost like…. Every time you come around, I know something awful is going to come out of your mouth! I have to brace myself every day like I'm getting ready for a kick to the jaw for Christ's sake!"
Dr. Ulrich looked as though she could have cried.
Arlo and I weren't sure what to do.
Weston sighed, "Look, I'm sorry. I- Really, it's just. I feel like, whenever you come around- It's the only time I honestly feel like I can't do this!"
She gasped, and frankly I almost did too, hearing this come from Weston.
"Is that truly how you feel?", she asked before looking to Arlo and I, "What about you two?"
Arlo spoke first, "What I believe Weston is meaning is- and forgive me if I'm not representing your thinking- it's the way you prefaced the 'human capital' part of spaceflight with establishing the canine astronaut project. It kinda made it sound like humans are too valuable to risk, but dogs aren't."
At this point Mr. Kingsley had wrapped up his business and joined the group, from a distance so as not to interrupt.
"I heard that too, but I had hoped that wasn't what you meant", I said, "I know it wasn't."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"It sounds so obvious now", she said as she shook her head.
She knelt down, "I want to express my sincerest apologies to the three of you. No- anyone out there who I may have hurt by saying that, that's not what I meant- I'm…. not good at this PR stuff, I never have been."
"Okay Doctor, you don't have to do all that", Weston said, "The cameras aren't rolling."
"No. I do. I can't just stand here and promise to have empathy, I need to do something now. If I'm doing more harm than good during these days leading up to your flight, then….", she stopped.
Mr. Kingsley took his chance to jump in, "Hey now. It was just a little slip of the tongue, or like…. Just something in the wrong order. We're all out of position since-"
He stopped.
"Well, anyways…", he said. "I'm sure we're all just exhausted and trying to do our best given the circumstances."
Dr. Ulrich nodded, but she was still out of sorts.
I could tell she genuinely felt bad. I wanted to tell her that not one face in the crowd seemed upset by what she'd said, but I assumed she'd likely reason that the crowd was hearing all of the information for the first time- making them less likely to say anything that would have delayed the 'ask the astronauts' portion of the conference.
Mercifully, Sophie came out of nowhere and started bombarding me with questions about where I would be taking pictures next.
As she did so, Dr. Ulrich took her exit.
Our new itineraries stated that we'd be put on a tram and sent to building four.
As I hopped on, however, Arlo and Weston hopped on right next to me.
"Oh, hey. Let me scoot over", I said, not expecting to have anyone next to me.
"We may as well stay together", Arlo said, "makes for a good picture too."
"Oh wow, are we actually anticipating being jumped by photographers?", Weston said.
"I'm pretty sure you were the one who told us that first actually. Something about, not going outside and being harassed through windows", Arlo said.
"I did say that, yeah", Weston admitted.
Through all of this, Weston kept that icy energy about him, though his voice and his expressions would every so often convey the same emotions I was used to seeing from Marshall, of all people.
Don't get me wrong, Marshall was a complete goofball with a massive heart and would probably drive Weston insane if they ever met. However, I was beginning to see little notes of genuine joy and excitement. But also, frustration and fear.
I wondered if maybe the increase in non-hostile expression in regards to Weston was mixing with how much I was missing the pups- I wasn't sure.
Before we pulled away, I watched Mr. Kingsley tell the tram driver something. He then came over, told us we'd made the press conference perfect, and waved goodbye.
As we rode, Weston decided he wasn't done surprising me that day.
"Hey so, I'm sorry you both had to see that. That lady… I don't have any problem with her. I already wasn't in the best headspace today- the noise and all that. It's just that…... When I was a kid, I used to be super quiet. I mean, silent on all matters, good, bad, or otherwise. But when I started seeing things that weren't right or when I started to get picked on, I just thought saying something would have messed things up. I'm not sure what I was so afraid of or why I didn't want to 'ruin the fun', but… that's just how I was for a long time- too long."
I readjusted in my seat, trying to be as quiet as I could.
I hung on his every word, not knowing if we'd ever see this Weston again.
"I…. think we all have limits, and back then, whenever I was pushed too far, I'd just explode. Not anywhere near as tactful or polite as I tried to be back there. The second I raised my voice, everyone always looked at me like they were seeing me for the first time. The real me… It scared them, and then they started treating me differently because they weren't sure when I'd explode again."
He stopped. Something about his faced looked so young, not innocent but like he wasn't as guarded as he usually was.
I understood him completely.
I said, "It's funny you say that about not wanting to 'ruin things' with your feelings. Nowadays, so many people get encouraged for speaking up for themselves, like they're always validated. But not everyone gets that treatment. I know anger and sadness are negative emotions, but-"
Arlo cut in, "Even negative emotions can have positive uses- sorry if I'm leading what you're saying astray here- but, I think that we don't have to be afraid of being angry, or being sad, or being- well afraid. I mean, I'm afraid."
Weston chuckled, "You completely interrupted Rocky."
"Sorry, Rocky", Arlo said.
"No, it's fine, I'm definitely afraid", I replied.
"Well now you two know all there is to know about me. Now I speak up because, well….I'd rather not have my feelings always come as a surprise to people. Just wanted to get all that crap out of the way before it was too late", Weston said.
Just then the tram hit a bump causing the three of us to jump.
The timing made it an almost perfect "reset" to the conversation.
I had assumed we were all afraid, but there was something comforting about knowing just how afraid each of us were.
Arlo cleared his throat, "Nothing wrong with telling someone how they make you feel. Dr. Ulrich means well, but only dogs really know how dogs feel. I can do everything a human astronaut can do, but people will still look at us like we're each that long-lost puppy that they couldn't let go of."
"Well, in any case, I appreciate you two having my back when she turned to you", Weston replied.
I related to Weston a lot more than I realized.
I was grateful for that moment.
Just as our talk concluded, we pulled up to what we thought was building four.
"Good talk boys! We should do it again sometime", laughed Arlo, acting as if we weren't all going to the same place.
Once he hopped out, he looked to his left and hopped right back into an exiting Weston, narrowly avoiding a police cruiser that sped up to park next to us.
The officers hopped out and told us to stay back.
It was then we all realized the tram had taken us to building three- the same one our orientation had been in.
Only this time, it was swarmed with people, many frantically trying to fit their cameras through the doors.
About the same amount of media personnel that accosted us en route to the press conference were already being turned away.
"Why did we stop here? It looks like a president's here or something!", remarked Arlo.
Something important was definitely going on inside, I could feel it.
***End of Chapter 17***