Page 6

Derek desperately wants to walk away from this conversation and pretend that Bill has said nothing. A bolt? Really? A loose bolt...a bolt that sticks...a latch issue. It all sounds like the kind of thing that could seriously derail the mission, and, in this moment, there is nothing Derek Trager wants more than to be the commander of the Gemini orbital mission.

Derek exhales loudly. "I hear you. And your concerns have been registered. But if Arvin North says all systems are go on this, then do you really think I'm the guy to put a halt to an entire mission?"

Bill looks around in a way that borders on frantic. "I think the two of us bringing our concerns to North would carry some weight."

"And just your word alone wasn't enough?"

It's Bill's turn to exhale. "I didn't talk to him yet."

Derek gives a huff of a laugh as he looks at his silver wristwatch. "We're less than three hours from liftoff, Bill, and you haven't even brought this up with him yet? Instead you came to me?"

"I couldn't sleep last night," Bill admits. "I wanted this to come off without a hitch, even if I'm stuck here on the ground. Believe me," he implores, "there's nothing I want more than to see this mission be a raging success. But I tossed and turned and thought about the things I know and the tests we've run, and I can tell you one thing, Trager: even more than I want Gemini to be successful, I want to avoid a catastrophic event of any kind."

It's this--this right here--that finally does Derek in. The use of the word "catastrophic" feels to Derek like a gross overstatement of the issue. He would never intentionally brush off a major concern and put the lives of himself and his fellow astronauts at risk. No sane person would. But is he willing to throw the whole mission at this point on a hunch that kept Bill Booker awake last night? It's a predicament. He knows that his response here matters.

"Bill," Derek begins, feeling resigned. "You know that I care about safety as much as you do--as much as any of the other guys do--but I can't help wondering how much of this is tied up with your own ego."

Bill takes a step back as though Derek has slugged him. "What?" he booms. "You think that this has something to do with my own ego? That's crazy. And selfish. I would never--"

"Bill," Derek says in a low voice, motioning with his hand for Bill to bring the volume down, as his words are echoing throughout the cavernous space. "Everyone knows you've had a tough go of it this year, okay? We're all aware of your ex-wife," he says in a near whisper, referring to Margaret, Bill's first wife, who had taken her own life on the Fourth of July. "And we know that you've been under some...stress."

"Stress?" Bill says, not replicating Derek's lowered voice. "This has nothing to do with my personal life, or my ego," he splutters, "this has to do with the safety and integrity of this mission and nothing more."

Derek can feel himself closing down internally. This has gone far enough. He holds up one hand to stop Bill. "I've heard you, and your complaint is noted, as well as your apprehension. I hear you, and I feel that you do care, Bill. But I still think that I'm going to do whatever Arvin North says. If he pulls the plug on this, then so be it." Derek throws both hands in the air. "Otherwise, I'm going to get suited up and ready to go. Is that fine with you?"

The shutters have closed behind Bill's eyes and he nods now, looking distant. "Fine. You should do that."

As Booker strides away, Derek stands in the corner a moment longer, watching his colleague push at the heavy metal door angrily. It slams against the wall outside, sending the loud echo of Bill's discontent ringing through the enormous room.

Derek shakes his head. He'd never intentionally ignore danger. He just wouldn't. But he's the commander of this mission, not Bill Booker, and his gut says that it's time to press ahead, not pull back.

* * *

“Propulsion?” Bob Young says, holding a checklist in hand as the three astronauts sit in the cockpit.

“Go,” Derek responds.

“Life support?” Young says in an almost mechanical voice. Derek can both hear and feel the excitement and the nerves in his copilots’ voices and body language.

Murphy Hendricks leans over to check the various switches and stats in front of him. “Go,” he responds.

“Communication?” Young says.

“Ground control,” Hendricks says into his headset.

“Ground control, check,” comes the slightly scratchy reply from someone inside of the NASA mission control center.

“Go,” Hendricks replies.

The men proceed to check the environmental controls, the emergency procedures, and mission objectives, and then they verify the functionality of all their tools and the instruments they’ll utilize for the mission. Finally, with system checks done, they review the launch procedures and settle in to mentally prepare themselves for the countdown.

For some of the men, this moment of quiet reflection is best spent praying to or communicating with their higher power. For Murphy Hendricks, it’s a time to close his eyes and look like he’s sleeping, but Derek knows full well that Hendricks is singing the lyrics to a song from start to finish in his head, imagining himself on stage with his drum kit as he performs for a crowd. Bob Young is definitely someone who prays, so Derek leaves him to it. And for himself, Derek prefers to think of the faces of the people he loves.

Maxine appears before his eyes, resplendent in her frothy robe and nightgown. The gentle swell of her belly is visible as she leans forward to pick Wendy up from the couch and hold her on one hip. He’s loved Maxine since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, but never more so than after she became a mother.

Ryan, their firstborn, is everything a father could want from a son. He’s polite, but with a sharp mind that’s always working. In the first thirteen years of his life, he’s given both of his parents a real run for their money, asking the kinds of questions that make adults look at one another with raised eyebrows, as if to say:How on earth do we answerthat? Ryan, as a small boy, was king of inquiries like: Who puts the sun away at night? Who is Santa Claus’s boss? Why are there both sharksandalligators? Good questions, all, and ones that Derek replays in his memory now as he smiles at the blinking lights on the panel before him.

Wendy, his baby girl, light of his life…her small, adorable features swim before him as he thinks of the way she waits at the screen door for him to come home, calling out, “Dada! Dada!” with such excitement that his heart nearly explodes. And this new baby—whoever he or she turns out to be—will complete their family in ways that none of them can even anticipate.