Bye, he said.
In Houston, she put down the telephone and sat thinking for a minute, then got up and walked into the garden. She walked around and around, circling the perimeter, then sat down on the grass and cried.
Harrison was in Wolfie’s, in downtown Cocoa Beach, when he heard the news. It had been a good morning. Deke had called an unscheduled pilots’ meeting first thing. The conversation was lively as the men took their seats around the table and waited for him. Consensus was, he was going to announce the crew selections.
Gentlemen, good morning, Deke said, walking into the room. Let’s get to it. First thing. If I have a guy, and I keep him around, he’s eligible to fly. That’s it. Second, there are no copilots here. We have commanders, and we have pilots.
Harrison smiled.
All astronauts are created equal, Deke said. But some are more equal than others. And I gotta plan long-term. Fellas, we’re going all-up now. We don’t have time for Von Braun’s baby steps, so we’re getting rid of any dead-end equipment and tests. Coupla things before we go on. Glenn’s out of the running.
He retire already? Gordo said.
A few laughs.
Kennedy’s not gonna let him go up again, Deke continued, so he won’t be flying Gemini. Neither will Carpenter.
A few more laughs.
So that’s you nine, plus you Gordo, plus Wally and Gus.
What about Shepard? Borman said.
Grounded, Deke said.
The men exchanged glances.
You serious? Conrad said.
Serious as hell. Doctor says he can’t fly. He’s been having some problems with dizziness since May. Turns out he’s got something called Ménière’s disease. It’s an inner ear problem. He’s out, at least for now. But who knows.
Shit, Borman said.
We gotta do something, for Al, Conrad said.
Already did, Deke said. I’ve given him my old job. He’s now in charge of the Astronaut Office. I’ve resigned my commission from the air force and I’m now a civilian employee of NASA. Assistant director for Flight Crew Operations.
Deke? Harrison said.
General LeMay grounded me permanently because of this goddamn heart thing, so I quit. If I wanna go up someday, I gotta keep flyin. And as a civilian, I can fly NASA aircraft, as long as I’ve got a qualified copilot with me. And as long as that copilot isn’t Al.
More laughter.
That’s as good as I’m gonna get for now, he said. I’ll be keeping up my astronaut training with you fellas; see what the next few years bring. So. The first manned Gemini missions: Grissom-Young. We need to find out if a manned spacecraft can maneuver in space. Backup crew: Schirra and Stafford. That’s Gemini III. The first two will be unmanned tests. Next up, Gemini IV: McDivitt-White. We’re thinking, first EVA. Ed, you fancy taking a walk in space?
Guess I could give it a try, White said, folding his arms behind his head and sitting back.
You’ll have Borman and Lovell backing you up, Deke said. Gemini V, first week-long flight. Cooper and Conrad. A hundred and twenty orbits. Guidance and navigation. Backup: Harrison and Armstrong. Gemini VI, first rendezvous in space—we can’t land on the moon without it. We’ll be using an unmanned Agena that we’ll send up in advance. Give us something to rendezvous with. Schirra and Stafford; backup Grissom and Young. Gemini VII, long duration. Fourteen days in space. Borman and Lovell. That’s gonna be tough. Two weeks in a tin can with Frank.
Hey! Borman said.
All that, Deke said, is subject to change. We’re in the middle of selecting a third group of astronauts—fourteen more pilots—so we’ll come back to crew selections for the remaining missions after that. Bobby Kennedy wants a black astronaut, but we can’t find a black pilot that’s good enough. It’s not racist, just the way things are. A pilot either has it or he doesn’t. Nothing else matters. If anyone asks you about it, or mentions the name Ed Dwight to you, tell em to speak to me. Now. What else? Gemini is a manned system, start to finish. Laid out the way a pilot likes things. Gus did that, working with McDonnell. You can buy him a beer. That’s it, gentlemen, except for this: the program doesn’t need a scandal. I don’t give a damn what a pilot does in his spare time; if he plays around or not is his business. It’s not my concern unless it affects his work. Which is what a messy divorce would do. Land yourselves one of them and it’s a one-way ticket back to wherever you came from. It’s not a moral thing, it’s not a PR thing, it’s a practical thing. I don’t want anything distracting you from your job. Now, that all said, what say we head down to Wolfie’s and grab a bite?
It was Lovell who first noticed that something was wrong. The men sat at a long table drinking beer and eating sandwiches. Wolfie’s had a radio, usually tuned to WXBR. But the music had stopped.
Listen, he said to Harrison, holding up a finger. That’s Kennedy, isn’t it?
Harrison stopped eating and listened.