Chapter 8 –The Traveler Speaks: Part 3

More background on Mira as her story intersects with the nanobots.

As time went on, especially the last two years, things have been better.  I guess I’m growing up a little…I’m so sorry for what I put my dad through, he didn’t deserve it.  It wasn’t all bad though, NASA had a fleet of aircraft and my dad was checked out on most of them.  It was totally against the rules, but sometimes, after most of the employees on base went home, he’d check out one of the astronaut’s aircraft, the T-38’s, put some telephone books in the back seat for me to sit on, and we’d fly together. 

 

Dad was a Gulf War era Naval Aviator.  Unfortunately, he attended a Tail Hook symposium just after the war and a few of the other aviators got out of hand, I don’t know exactly what they did, but some Senator demanded that everyone who attended the symposium at the time to have a black mark entered on their record.  Literally, it was a black mark…  The Senator then went about making sure that no one with a black mark ever got promoted.  My dad was just about to make Lieutenant Commander, and despite the fact that he was always among the best when it came to rankings and fitness reports, he was passed over for promotion.  So, after 12 years of service, my dad was forced out.  One of his old commanders took care of him and got him this job.  It worked out for him, he loves it…  No one ever questions his judgment or why he’s out flying at night.  All the support staff love him too…he always takes care of people and treats them right.  He’s a man of his word, and I loved that about him.  Not quite a Dudley do right…but you could count on him.  And people did.

 

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I really led a privileged life.  What kid gets to grow up living on Cocoa Beach and hanging out at NASA almost every day?  We’d go flying at night usually so the chances of me being spotted by someone who would question him were minimal.  His justification for the flights was to keep up his currency and achieve his annual minimums.  If he flew at night, he’d be getting both night and instrument time…which was true.  The fun part and the illegal part of it was, once mom was gone, he took me with him.  All the old stogy “mom rules” were out the door, along with what most would consider common sense safety rules.  I missed her, but not her rules.  I was always with dad on this…if we decided we wanted to do or try something, there was no stopping us.  One thing dad taught me was how to identify and manage risk.  If you do that, you can successfully jump off cliffs, ride bikes in traffic, swim with sharks…you name it.  Managing risk…that’s the key, not stogy rules. 

 

Like I said, the guys working the flight line loved my dad and got a real kick out of this little strawberry blond, perched up in the back seat of a fighter jet.  Those guys were my real family for the better part of my life.  The paraloft guys even kept me supplied with safety equipment.  I had a special black flight suit, parachute, harness and helmet…the whole nine yards you could say.  They told dad it was good practice for them to design and modify my equipment…I thought it was great.  Like visiting an uncle who always had a present for me, we’d always stop into their shop before flying.  The guys took me in as one of their own, like I was a secret pet.  For years, every week or two, on a Wednesday or Thursday night at Patrick Air Force Base, you’d see a T-38 taxi out around sunset and blast down the runway in full afterburner. 

 

Our favorite T-38 was a black one with upgraded engines.  Sometimes we’d head out over the ocean and watch the sunset but my favorite, was to fly over Disney World in time to see the fireworks from above.  Sometimes we’d just practice approaches and landings.  I puked hard the first few times because I’d get motion sickness.  Being in a G-Suit, breathing the oxygen through a mask, the claustrophobic feeling of a helmet and harness was not bad for me…what took getting used to was the vertigo I’d get after the sun went down.  My dad, of course, figured it out and took me to a Space Shuttle simulator.  After he showed me what all the instruments meant, especially the attitude gyro, things immediately got better.  I learned to visualize a horizon even when there wasn’t one by using the attitude gyro.

 

Over time, dad let me take the controls.  At first, all I could really reach was the stick…I learned what all the buttons and switches did and he taught me all the emergency procedures.  Said I would have to remember them if something went wrong because he was getting old and couldn’t remember…hahaha dad…not funny.   As I grew, the guys kept upgrading my equipment…for my 11^th birthday, they painted up a special helmet for me, it was hot pink with a Hello Kitty emblem on the side.  So cool.  At that point, I could reach the engine throttles, so I learned all about those. 

 

By my 12^th birthday, I could reach the pedals.  The funny part about that was, I was all excited to reach the pedals, but for this aircraft, you really didn’t have to touch them except to ground taxi.  Centerline thrust is the way to go dad always said.  The doctors say I’m supposed to be 5’9” tall eventually; I’m probably 5’7” now.  For my 12^th birthday, my dad let me complete instrument approaches and practice actual landings in the landing pattern.  We’d flip around the channels of the local bases to see if they were busy.  I really liked flying up to NAS Jacksonville because when we made the radio switch to Jacksonville Center, he’d let me do all the radio calls.  Jacksonville Approach controllers got used to hearing my voice on the radio too.  I’d check in, and they’d give me special treatment, sometimes allowing me to cut off others in the pattern so I could get two approaches in for their one…haha.  Sometimes it’s extra cool being a girl, I never once complained about getting the red carpet treatment from my little family down there.  For a few years, I had listened to all dad’s radio communications and had my hands on the controls to feel them as he flew so, when he finally got the nerve to let me fly, it was as if I already had a few hundred hours of flight time…because I did. 

 

Ever since then, he has let me have more and more control until finally, he was letting me do the whole flight from takeoff to landing.  I’m so thankful for that time we got to spend together.  We never had one incident, no one outside of our NASA family ever knew… 

 

So, now I’m 14.  For all these years, I’ve learned to cope by staying busy learning and doing things…and now here I sit, trapped.  Alone.  Talking to inanimate objects….I feel like a homeless lady, wandering around talking to the voices in my head.

 

My dad was working on a big project for the last few years and I really didn’t know what it was all about.  NASA had been ordered to study the oceans and global warming, but somehow, they had funneled budget funds into a space exploration project.  I didn’t know if the idea was to colonize Mars or send humans beyond the solar system, but the rocket they were building was spectacular.  It made the Space Shuttle look like a tinker toy….but to me, it was obviously built to be a one way trip, wherever it was going.  I actually got to visit the command module as it was being built…much larger than anything I had witnessed before including the Space Shuttles and it included a huge cargo bay.  I was amazed; it was the size of a basketball court.  I wondered what they would be hauling…and to where. 

 

I loved being one of the “Minutemen” at Cocoa Beach High School.  If I wasn’t with dad, I was at school, swimming or playing waterpolo.  I don’t know if you can see me or not, but check out my abs!  Six pack baby!…and I can out swim, out run, just about anyone.  That’s what waterpolo did for me…plus, I love competition of any kind. 

 

Some say I’m overly competitive…but as long as I’m just playing hard and not giving anyone anything, I feel like the accusations are unfounded.  Now, if I was cheap-shotting people or taking short cuts…that’s different.  If I play something, I play to win.  Oh, and not during waterpolo or swimming seasons, because they’d pull me from playing, but sometimes I’d just skip school and hit Cocoa Beach. 

 

The school would call dad, and he’d come find me on the beach.  It was cool though, he’d just sit down next to me and watch the waves come in.  Sometimes, and I never admitted this to him, when I just wanted some quality dad time, I’d even tell the attendance lady I was skipping before attendance was even taken so she could call dad first…  I think he knew.  Sometimes, he’d have something important going on and take me back to work, but other days, he’d just grab his swim suit out of the trunk and we’d go catch some waves together body surfing.  As long as I was getting my way, I was peaches and cream to dad.  Total manipulation...

 

I liked a few of the boys on the waterpolo team, and probably would have gone out with them if they asked but, I don’t mind admitting it, I’m a daddy’s girl.  And dad set the bar pretty high for me as far as my interest in boys goes.   I was intentionally hard on boys, especially if they were nothing but self-interested meat heads just looking for some kind of trophy. 

 

I had a hard time with the nerds too…seriously?  Call it sexist if you like, but I don’t want to be out on a date and be the one most likely to win a fight or provide security.  No, although I did look for someone like me who was both an athlete and able to keep up an intelligent conversation, I just kind of gave up figuring I’d have to wait a few years.  No big deal though, I had dad.  He said I had nothing to worry about…early on I felt like a tomboy of sorts but then around 12, 13, I started to get some curves and felt better about myself.  I guess I started believing dad more too…I still feel a little self-conscious but, I like how I feel in shape, and I’m feeling more happy now in my skin. 

 

I tend to avoid the crowd with the right hair and right clothes at school…the last couple of years in middle school were the worst, so I was glad to hit high school.  Unfortunately, the same pretentious crowd was there, so, more reason to skip out and head to the beach or practice.  I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have the sports or dad.  It would have been tough.

 

In the last month though, we stopped flying and dad grew much quieter…and sad.  I really didn’t know how to reach out or what to say to him but I knew something was wrong.  I went to visit him at work one day…and I was able to walk around unescorted as usual but, he was nowhere to be found.  Not in his cubicle…not on the flight line, so I made my way over to the ship.  It was now on the launch pad, looking like it was almost ready to go but not fueled.  I never wanted to go close when they were fueling anything, liquid oxygen is nasty stuff…just plain dangerous.  One of my favorite flight line guys made a mistake with the LOX cart while servicing one of our aircraft and the thing exploded and killed him so, LOX is not my friend.  Anyhow, I climbed the tower with the help of security and made my way to the cockpit…sure enough, dad was there.  Sitting quietly, hands on his head.  I sat down next to him, “hi dad, what’s wrong?”

 

That’s when he told me.  “I’ve been working for the last couple of years on this project.  Remember how we used to have fun thinking about being space explorers?  The idea was to put a colony on Mars.  Initially, a one way trip, but with more to follow to keep them supplied.  We had to set them up with enough supplies to get set up and survive for a year and I think it would have worked. 

 

This was big, but it had to be kept secret because of the current political winds.”  “So, what happened?”  I asked, “What changed in the last month?”  “It’s catastrophic,” he said as he turned to me and looked me in the eye, “the earth is going to be hit by an extremely large meteorite and we only found out about it in the last month.”  “So, we’ve been hit by meteors before” I said, “what’s the big deal?”  “This is a big one…they say it’s almost the size of the moon, and it’s approaching the earth at an unusual angle, from an area in the sky that no one really looks for meteors.  It approached the sun and slowed down as it got pulled by the sun’s gravitational field.  The experts predict it will approach the earth relatively slowly, but the impact will be catastrophic…we don’t even know if the planet itself will remain intact.” 

 

“So, when is this all supposed to happen?”  I really didn’t believe what he was saying.  “Four days.”  I slumped back in the chair…”so what is the plan for this rocket dad?”  “We have received word that a handpicked crew, picked by the administration, will launch just before the impact.  A lot more has been changed though, our payload has been modified in secret, even from us, and we don’t know who the crew is.  They have taken over our project.”  “So, some political appointees get to be saved while the rest of the planet burns?”  “That’s about it…and I’m not sure it’s the wrong decision totally.  Somehow, we have to save someone…but it worries me that we are not sending the right people or that they have the right gear to live autonomously on a hostile planet like Mars.”  “So, what will you do?  What’s the plan?”  “The plan is to hope we are wrong about this meteor and it misses the earth….but for now, the plan is to cooperate and do what we can for this team…we start fueling this afternoon.” 

 

“Oh, dad…”  I whispered as I started to well up.  “How can I help?  Can I stay here with you?”  “Yeah, I’d like to spend as much of these days as possible with you…but there is work to be done ok?” “OK,”I said, “I’m in.”  So, for the next couple of days I was at his side taking care of anything that I could from fetching coffee to running administrative errands.  It was nice, every time I came back from an errand, I’d hug him…”I love you dad”  He’d put his arm around me, “I love you too.”  He treated every moment as if it was our last…I guess he had a better understanding of everything than I did.

 

On day three, with the fueling almost complete, I was walking through the office and heard the director on the red phone in a heated discussion.  Something was going on so I went to dad immediately…”Something’s going on dad.”  “Yeah, I know.  We have orders to launch the rocket today, not tomorrow.”  “What about the political appointees?” I asked.  “They aren’t coming…I don’t know why, but we are ordered to launch the rocket without a crew.  The payload is loaded, the computers are programmed…it’s all on automatic but, without a crew.”  “When is the launch?” “In about an hour…I’ve got to go up and make sure the command module is buttoned up and set to go.  Would you like to come with?”  “Sure, dad.” 

 

So, we walked up to the pad and up the stairs.  The liquid hydrogen fuel was cold and condensation gave the humid Florida air momentary bursts of coolness.  It was nice.

 

Once in the command module, dad looked over everything.  Meticulous attention to detail was his trademark with things like this.  “Have a seat, Mira” he told me. 

 

Once done, he came over and sat beside me.  “So, have I mentioned that I love you? And have great faith in you?”  “Yeah dad, all the time…I love you too.”  “Well, now is one of those moments where hard decisions have to be made…and I’m not sure if I’m making the right one but…trust me ok?”  “What?”  “Take these sleeping pills, strap in and become the explorer you’ve always dreamed of.”  “dad…no…” 

 

I didn’t know what to think…”Listen, I can’t go with you…by later on today, the Earth might not even exist…this is the chance of a lifetime…take it…and don’t look back.  I love you.”  I couldn’t say no to him, I know he wanted to save me somehow, in a way he could not save mom years ago.  Finally, he had some power over the situation…at least a little power.  “OK dad…”  So, I took the pills…and the last thing I remember was him hugging me with tears in his eyes, “I love you sweet girl…” 

 

Those are the last words I heard.   They still echo in my mind.  He cinched me up tight, made sure I was all set…and that’s all I remember.  Now…I’m not sure where I’m headed, when I’ll get there, what I’m supposed to do…but mostly, I’m just overcome with loneliness, and of course, deep sadness.  Right now, it’s looking less like an adventure of exploration and more like a fate worse than death.  …and why am I talking to a computer?

 

I know this one…Avril Lavigne, ‘I’m with you, right?’  Perfect…. it does sound great in here…lots of reverb.  I liked the Backstreet Boys one too….the meaning of being lonely…Thanks for the music, I actually don’t feel as alone now…ironically.

 

Since waking up, I am afraid to touch any of the controls but the view of the moon has been more spectacular each day.  Looks like we are going to zoom right past it so I’m looking forward to seeing it up close.  Not even the shuttle astronauts got to see that.  Beyond that, I don’t know.  Perhaps you can help?  I see we have thrusters, but I don’t know how much and how long they would work so I didn’t use them.  I really want to rotate the ship around to see what has become of the earth.

 

"It feels like bedtime now…  For tonight, I imagine you take requests…I’d like to hear a couple of songs before I go to sleep.  Oh, and I’d like to wake up early tomorrow…for my wake up, I’d like to hear ‘Radioactive’ by Imagine Dragons ok.  Right now…I’d like to hear ‘See you again’ and go to sleep with some Chad Valley, perhaps ‘Shell Suite’ and ‘Evening Surrender’?  Do you have those?  OK…see you in the morning.  The moon is beautiful isn’t it?…."