He stepped out of the taxi onto the corner of H Street and East Executive Avenue. The Washington air was so cold he thought the day might snap in two. He turned up his collar; drew himself together. He felt uncomfortable. The strict geometry of his suit made him feel like a patsy. It was the only one he owned. He pulled at the knot of his tie. He was standing in front of an unremarkable townhouse in downtown D.C. He checked his orders again. Dolley Madison House. He was in the right place. It didn’t make any sense. Why was the briefing here and not at the Pentagon? He’d been ordered to dress as a civilian too. The whole deal was odd.
The receptionist told him to wait in the auditorium, where he found thirty or so men, milling around, also wearing unfamiliar suits. They were, he could tell, all air force and navy pilots; the odd Marine flyer. He recognized Jim Lovell and Pete Conrad from the navy’s Test Pilot School at Pax River, their prime test center. Wally Schirra too. Harrison looked around for anyone else from Edwards. There was Howard Lane. And there was Deke Slayton. Deke was a prime pilot in Fighter Ops; a good guy, doing solid line-testing work.
Deke, Harrison said, approaching him.
Jim!
The men shook hands.
Fancy running into you here, Harrison said.
Fancy that, Deke said.
Any idea what this is all about?
Beats the hell outta me. Plenty Blue Suiters though.
Plenty navy too.
Uh-huh.
What’s his name? Harrison said.
Who?
Over there.
John Glenn. Flew the first supersonic coast-to-coast. Set a speed record.
That’s the one, Harrison said. Marine, isn’t he?
Yeah.
Jim Lovell approached them, smiling, and shook hands with Harrison.
Jim, Harrison said, this here is Deke Slayton. Jim finished top of his class at Pax River.
Pleasure, Deke said, shaking Lovell’s hand.
Edwards?
Deke nodded.
Harrison turned to Lovell. They still call you Shaky? he said.
Only Conrad.
Shaky? Deke said. Bad name for a pilot.
That’s pretty much what he had in mind when he came up with it, Lovell said. And here he is now.
Jim! Conrad said to Harrison. Good to see you.
Hey, Pete, Lovell said.
Shaky! Say, that was weird this morning, weren’t it?
Lovell laughed.
It sure was, he said.
What happened? Harrison said.
We ran into each other at dawn, Lovell said, in the parking lot, sneaking off base to come here.
We had strict orders not to tell anyone—including each other, Conrad said.
And we followed our orders to the letter, Lovell said.
My money’s on this being about space, Conrad said.
Smart money’s on a new type of rocket plane, Lovell said.
Here? Deke said.
Maybe, Lovell said.
X-15B is already being designed by North American, Harrison said. Then the X-20 will follow it.
That the one they’re calling the Dyna-Soar? Deke said.
Dynamic Soarer, yeah, Harrison said.
They’re space-planes, sure, Deke said, but they’re a way off.
Too far off, Conrad said. My guess is, they’re in a funk after the Vanguard fuckup.
That was bad, Deke said. Real bad.
Why the hell did they televise it? Harrison said. It made us look stupid.
Stupidest thing I ever seen, Conrad said. Two months after the Sputnik, Khrushchev laughing at us already; here’s our chance and the thing doesn’t make it six inches off the goddamn pad! Just does this little fart then collapses and— Boom, Harrison said.
Boom, Conrad said. What a joke.
What was it they called it? Deke said. Kaputnik?
Something like that, Harrison said.
So I’m sticking with space, Conrad said.
The men fell silent and scanned the room.
No Yeager? Lovell said.
No college degree, Harrison said.
Damn shame, Deke said. I thought they wanted the best?
Well, they’ve only called in test pilots under thirty-nine, under five-eleven with at least fifteen hundred hours of jet experience—and a college degree, Lovell said. Which must rule out a bunch of fellas.
Crossfield? Walker? Conrad said.
Too old? Deke said.
Civilians, Harrison said.
Right.
A man shut the door at the back.
Here we go, Harrison said.
The men took their seats and stared at the podium. A short man walked onto the stage. He looked as comfortable on it as the men felt in their suits.
Gentlemen, good morning, he said. My name is Doctor Robert Gilruth; you may call me Doctor Gilruth. We’ve asked you here today to discuss Project Mercury.