Station Breaker

2 Glitter Menace

Acting as casually as I can, I finish sliding my chest unit into place and make sure all the lights are green. I double-check it, even though half a dozen people will take a look before I get into the capsule. Spaceflight is supposed to be routine now, but not that routine.

"What's up, Dixon?" asks Bennet, looking up at me from his wrist display.

"You know, suicide pills are a lot easier to pack," I say in the weakest possible way as I point to the pouch with the gun.

He glances past me and sees the mirror. "Watching me suit up? I didn't know you were into that."

This kind of locker room trash talk is a bit out of place for Bennet, not to mention the fact his son is openly gay and a Republican US Senator elected in no small part because of his father's support.

He's clearly trying to avoid the topic.

I press on. "Seriously. Is that some new SOP I don't know about?"

Bennet takes his time as he examines his readout then walks up to me, standing toe-to-toe, our chest units almost touching.

"Dixon, there are things you need to know and things you do not need to know. I do not have time to tell you all the things you need to know. What I can tell you is that what you thought you saw doesn't exist in your world. Understand? But I'll humor you and tell you that because of certain security requirements for our payload, I'm required to take certain precautions."

He gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder and smiles. "Don't worry, son."

I've seen the cargo manifest. We're just bringing standard supplies to the US-iCosmos Space Station. There are no military or spy agency payloads I'm aware of.

But would I know? A line item that says 35 x 55 x 20 cm box weighing 2.4 kilograms listed as "Replacement carbon dioxide sensor monitor" could be some NRO long-range LiDAR sensor designed to scan foreign satellites or something or other.

"I'm proud of you, Dixon. This is what it's all about. You're going do to fine."

That's the Halston Bennet I know, the man who trained me and dozens of others in the iCosmos program — the guy we secretly try to emulate.

"Gentlemen, you all set?" says Stephanie Peterson as she enters our locker section. Technically part of the cargo, she's a NASA astronaut we're taking to the Station.

An athletic, imposing former Air Force pilot, she's also the man I want to be when I grow up.

"I was just explaining to Yoga Boy how things are going to be."

"You just do whatever Halsy tells you." She gives me a wink.

I want to ask her if she knows about "Halsy's" gun. But by the informal way those two talk to each other, I get the feeling that if he's up to something she'd either know, or be in on it.

Yoga Boy. Ugh. Bennet once caught me doing some stretches before a pool dive and never let it go.

He's a great instructor but never lets you forget who the real men are — the men and women who served in the military and were part of NASA's astronaut program. They were accepted from the best and the brightest. The twee poseurs like myself are just pretenders.

"Astronauts to the press room," Renata calls to us from the door.

"Let's go, Dixon," says Bennet as he gives me a friendly pat on the back. "Time to tell them what it feels like to be about to have your space cherry popped."

It's disorienting the way he just can switch right into the avuncular instructor whose calm voice walked me through my underwater and zero-g training on our 727 Vomit Comet jet.

It's hard to call it a "press room" when at the moment it's a mostly empty auditorium with just twelve internet bloggers.

On a real mission, something besides a FedEx run, the room would be full. Today we get anyone with more than ten Twitter followers and nothing better to do until their parents come home.

It's kind of embarrassing and nothing like the newsreel footage I grew up watching of astronaut press conferences.

Vin Amin, the CEO of our company, insists that we do this before every launch.

"Watch out for that one," Peterson whispers to me, singling out a girl in crutches wearing a glitter-speckled t-shirt and purple streaks in her hair. She looks to be between nineteen and twenty-five.

I pretend everything is totally cool and my hero didn't just emasculate me moments before the most important day of my life. "I'll be careful."

"No, seriously. She once asked the NASA director a question about a contractor funding overrun that he didn't have the answer for. It nearly cost him his job and killed the program."

"Seriously?"

I give the girl a hesitant glance. Leaning on metal arm crutches, from some kind of condition, she doesn't look threatening…

I keep a wary eye on her anyway as Renata starts our briefing. There's also a mischievous curl to her lips, like she's holding back something clever, that I find alluring.

Bennet explains how excited he is to be part of this program. Peterson talks about how thrilled she is to be going to the Station and what kind of research she's going to do.

I make an inane comment about being eager to ride shotgun — actually saying the word "shotgun," and catching myself too late. Thankfully, the joke passes by and I feel pretty sure Bennet isn't looking at me with daggers.

Renata opens it to questions. The menace in the glitter shirt shoots an arm into the air and almost drops a crutch.

Renata manages to avoid her as long as others have their hands up.

There are the predictable questions about what it's like to be an astronaut from a group of people who look like the most adventurous thing they'll ever do is move out of their parent's basements.

I get a couple technical ones about the new version of our space capsule.

Finally, the only raised hand is glitter girl.

I can see Renata's hesitation. "Okay, Laney Washburn, you're our last question."

"My question is for David Dixon. As one of the first astronauts to not have prior NASA or military training, what's it like to be the odd man out in a capsule full of veterans?"

Did she just call Yoga Boy out for being a poseur?

I probably stutter and take longer than I should. "Well Laney, the mission of iCosmos is to open space up for everyone. That starts when a regular guy like me gets a chance to fly next to a couple of real heroes like Captain Bennet and Dr. Peterson."

She smiles at my answer. I mentally clap myself on the back.

Before Renata can end the briefing Laney blurts out another question. Teetering on her crutches she asks,"When will people like me be able to fly for iCosmos?"

By "me," I think she means handicapped.

Gut punch.

I flinch.

I hope Bennet's gun is loaded and I get the first bullet.

Thankfully, Peterson jumps in and saves the day telling Laney that both NASA and iCosmos have a program for making space accessible to all Americans.

Laney smiles at her answer, but keeps her eyes on me. I get the feeling she asked the question just to make me squirm.