Markov joins us outside. "There they are. The fugitive and his accomplice. Have you told everything we need to tell our Space Commando?"
"I'm letting him go over a few things without me breathing down his neck," I reply.
"And he is ready?"
"He'll have to be. There's only so much you can teach someone in this short amount of time. It took me years to get into space."
"Indeed," says Markov. He turns back around and returns to the hangar.
"I guess I should see if there's anything else I can tell Captain Awesome."
61
Assembly
Before we load the DarkStar onto the carryall truck, Admiral Jessup takes a stand on the flatbed to address us.
"I'll keep this short. We need to have this craft loaded onto here and taken up the road in twenty minutes. We're all used to working in gray zones. Trust me, this isn't gray. I have the authority to act on clear and present dangers — but Congress and the President have the ability to retroactively take that authority back." Jessup points a finger at me. "This man risked everything to bring us valuable information. He's not an officer, not a soldier. He's a private citizen who acted above the call of duty and because of that, even right now he's still in harm's way."
I get a few nods of approval, but I feel like an imposter.
Jessup continues his non-speech speech. "If this goes wrong, hell if it goes right, they can prosecute me and all of you. Now is the time to find something else to do if you're uncomfortable with that."
Predictably, nobody raises a hand or bows out. He chose these men and women wisely.
I look over and see Prescott flipping through the manuals on the bench. We're about to suit him up and load him inside the craft for the two hour wait to the launchpad.
For a guy about to be shot into space, then fired from a missile, he doesn't seem too worried.
God, I wish I had more time to teach him what I can.
I'm sure Bennet felt that way every time he sent one of us chimps into space. That's why he and Peterson took the responsibility of getting onboard the K1 themselves. Some things you can't leave to others.
"After we load the craft, we'll take a six person team to the assembly bay. They're expecting an emergency payload." Jessup points to a female Air Force officer with short black hair, "Captain Baylor will be in charge from the moment we leave this facility. She's supervised load-ins before and knows the right things to say. We need to keep the iCosmos ground crew, with the exception of the payload master, away from the spacecraft.
"We don't know who has ears in iCosmos, but even the most sincere person could tell someone who has been compromised and the mission will be a bust. And I don't need to paint a picture for you of the consequences of that. A high altitude nuclear magnetic burst would be devastating, no matter where it occurs. Let's just leave it at that."
A Naval lieutenant raises his hand. "Admiral, what happens if they don't want to give us access to the launch vehicle?"
"Are you asking what happens if they figure out what we're up to? We leave. There's no way we can take this thing up without their help. To be honest, if there is a problem, it'll appear clerical. We just say that we got the wrong information and turn back around." He points to Prescott, "The real stakes are for him. He's got to go up in that thing and pull off a miracle."
Prescott nods then goes back to the manual.
While Jessup supervises the loading of the DarkStar, I go over to Prescott to see if there's anything else I can help him with.
"You got this," I tell him.
"Thanks. I appreciate that. The fact that you're still alive is a testament to your training."
"Hah. No. I'm just really good at running away from trouble. You're the poor son of a bitch who has to run into it." I think about what he's about to do. "Don't cut the DarkStar loose and don't think this is a one-way trip. You're a hell of a lot smarter than I am and I made it back."
"Well, let's just see how things go," he replies.
Man, this guy is convinced that he won't make it back. I mean, I get it, that's the whole point of commandos and special forces types. They're the ones you send in who you know are going to act selflessly.
Back in the iCosmos locker room there's a wall of astronauts — the folks who made it into space starting with Yuri Gagarin and all the way through to the last astronauts onboard an iCosmos flight.
I was looking forward to seeing my name up there, but now realize that I have no place in a line-up with Yuri, John Glenn and Armstrong. Sure, Bennet and Peterson belong in that special category, but I was a guy flying something that had become routine.
Although technically, what I do share with Yuri Gagarin is the fact that neither one of us actually landed in our spacecraft. We both ejected before we hit the ground. He was acting bravely because he knew what he was doing. I was just acting out of self-preservation.
"Are you ready, Captain Prescott?" asks Jessup.
"Yes, sir." Prescott sets the manual down and walks over to the spacesuit. "Help me with this, Dixon?"
"Did you pee first?"
"Twice."
Laney is watching us from off to the side, double-checking the manuals and not hiding her anxiety.
Jessup and Markov come over to give Prescott some last minute notes.
I open the back panel of the suit so Prescott can slide inside. He stops and takes something out of his thermal pocket and hands it to me.
"Take my picture for my kid?" he asks.
"Yeah, sure."
Prescott stands in front of the spaceship and gives a thumbs up as I take the shot.
"Could you hold onto my phone until I get back?" he says as he slides his head through the neck section.
"Of course." I put it into my pocket and check the status lights.
I know he's not ready.
He's willing, but he's not ready.
Damnit, David.
"When was the last time you had a cardiogram?" I ask, looking over his chest panel.
"Never."
"Never?" I reply, trying to sound shocked. "But you haven't done any scuba diving in the past year, have you?"
"I was doing training in Coronado three weeks ago."
Markov steps over using his canes. "Is there a problem, Mr. Dixon?"
"Yeah… um… we don't let someone fly without a cardiogram if they've been doing diving at depth within the last six months. There can be serious heart problems."
"I'll be fine," says Prescott. "I'm sure lots of people go up now with tickers less healthy than mine.
"Uh… I mean it won't kill you… but there's a higher chance of blacking out. It's okay for a passenger, but not a pilot."
I catch Laney watching me. She's about to say something, but I glare at her.
"Can we get a doctor in here to do a test?" asks Prescott.
I shake my head. "There isn't time. They have to stress test you on a treadmill."
I don't have to do this…
"This presents a problem, Mr. Dixon," says Markov. "And what do you propose for a solution?"
"Well…"
Say it.
You came up with this whole bullshit story because you can't let this man go through this.
My mouth speaks before my brain can think."I'll have to go."
"Are you sure?" asks Markov.
No. "Yes. I think Prescott could pull it off, but there are too many variables."
"I got this," Prescott says.
I know his pride is at play here. "I know. But the heart thing…" I grab the sides of his helmet and start to unhook it.
Prescott looks at Jessup. "Admiral?"
"I agree with Dixon. We can't take the risk."
Prescott reluctantly nods and lets me help him out of the suit.
As he unstraps the gas mask and other equipment from his chest, Laney walks over and uses a free hand to help hold the suit. She leans in and whispers into my ear, "AFI eleven."