Nice, Walker said.
Seemed appropriate, Harrison said. It’s good to see you, Joe.
Place ain’t the same without you, Walker said.
That so.
Damn sight safer, for one.
Thought I’d give some of the other fellas a chance to do some proper test work.
Real generous of you, Jim.
Well I’m a generous guy.
How’s Grace? Walker said.
She’s good. How’s Pancho?
Still pissed at you.
Well, I’m not gonna change that anytime soon. Maybe they’ll let me name a crater after her or something.
This really happening, ain’t it?
Yeah.
First lunar landing, Walker said. That’s the ultimate flight test. Y’know, if I was younger, I might have applied myself.
A girl approached them from a tight circle of friends who watched from the end of the bar.
Walker looked at Harrison, then laughed.
Howdy fellas, she said.
Howdy, Harrison said.
My name’s Lucy, she said.
Pleasure, Harrison said.
Nice to meet you, Walker said.
Are you an astronaut too? Lucy said.
Joe’s the best test pilot you’ll ever meet, Harrison said.
When you going up? Lucy said to Harrison. He glanced at Walker.
Soon, he said.
Yeah? she said.
You live round here? he said.
For now, she said. Wanna come to a party?
Maybe later.
Well, all right then.
Okay.
Okay.
She smiled and slipped back to her friends who looked over at him and bowed their heads and giggled and he sighed and turned back to his drink.
Holy moly, Walker said. Maybe I should’ve signed up after all.
Let’s go get some air, Harrison said.
The next morning, the nine rookies were up before dawn. Henri always made sure his kitchen was well stocked with steak and eggs and coffee—a pilot’s breakfast. Wally had left at midnight for the crew quarters up at Hangar S. Deke had gone with him. The tradition, formed after only four flights, saw Deke wake the slumbering astronaut on the morning of the flight and take him to breakfast with Walt Williams, Bob Gilruth and Marvin Hoffman, the flight surgeon. Then the astronaut would get suited up, taken out to the pad and inserted into the spacecraft.
Jolly Wally had been laughing and joking and lollygagging it up all morning. He gave off the aura of a man about to go on a fishing trip, not into space. Even after they sealed him into the capsule, he was still Wallying around. Then they lit the fuse and blasted him into space.
Schirra stayed in beercall buddy mode all the way up. He’d named his spacecraft Sigma 7 and would make six orbits to Carpenter’s three; the objective to use half as much fuel and land on target. Carpenter, distracted by experiments, had gotten behind on his checklist, wasted fuel, almost fried on reentry and landed two hundred and fifty miles off-target. It was a near-fatal fuckup; some were even saying he’d panicked. Schirra was determined to show the world that a real pilot could still hang his hide on the line the old-fashioned way and coolly bring it home; a real operational flight test. And he did exactly that. Everyone from the flight director down celebrated that night in downtown Cocoa Beach, then poolside at the Holiday Inn. There were so many of them, with contractors, support staff, the contractors’ support staff and NASA personnel, it felt like they were an occupying force celebrating a victorious invasion. Even Von Braun’s German rocket team were out, knocking back pilsner and Glühwein and singing Oh du lieber Augustin long into the hot night.
When Harrison woke the next morning he swung his legs out of bed, lit a cigarette and called Grace.
Are you okay? he said.
Yeah, she said. You?
Yeah, he said. Sorry about before.
It’s okay, she said. Me too.
He said he wouldn’t be home for a few more days, perhaps even a couple of weeks.
A couple of weeks? she said.
Uh yeah, he said. Deke wants us to get familiar with operations while we’re down here; Von Braun came down for the launch too, so we gotta go meet him as well.
Jim, a couple of weeks though …
Probably be more like a week, no more. Don’t worry about it.
That’s easy for you to say. Guess I’ll see you, then.
Don’t be like that, he said.
I need you here, she said.
Kennedy—
I know what John Kennedy said, she said.
We’ve only got seven years, he said.
Sure sounds like a long time, she said.
Not if you want to travel a quarter million miles into space, it isn’t, he said.
Guess I should be thankful you’re only in Florida.
I miss you, he said.
I miss you too, she said.
I’ll be home before you know it, he said. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Enjoy having the place to yourself.
Sure, Grace said.
Invite the girls over, he said. Maybe do a dinner.
Good idea.
Okay then.
What about clothes?
I’ll pick up some new stuff down here.
Okay.
I’d better go, he said. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Okay then. Bye, she said.