“I agree with you, Sondra, but we’ve got our orders, and time is of the essence,” Boomer said. “We’ve been tasked to bring up supplies and technicians to help detach the Skybolt module, and we’ll also be flying more supplies to the ISS as well. I think we’ll be doing a lot of flying in the next couple weeks.” He looked over the spaceplane crewmembers before him. “John, Ernesto, and Sondra, you have a year of training or more and are checked out as mission commanders in at least two of the spaceplanes, so you’re going to go operational and fly as mission commanders before graduation.” All three of them wore excited smiles and gave each other high-fives, and the others looked dejected. “Don, Mary, and Kev, you guys might not get much spaceplane time for a few weeks, but you can keep up your studying and double up on the simulator and MiG-25 time. Kev, you’re closest to the one-year cutoff and you’re checked out as MC in the S-9 and S-19, so you may be called upon if this thing drags on.
“Now, Russian president Gryzlov threatened to attack any spaceplanes overflying Russia after ten days,” Boomer reminded them all. “I think the guy is doing nothing but chest-thumping, but we just don’t know for sure. So if you think there might be too much danger—even more than we normally have in store on every flight—you don’t have to fly. No one will criticize you at all if you decide to bug out. We’re not in the military: we’re contractors, and although we put our butts on the line every time we step into those flying machines, we’re not expected to work in a combat zone. We take enough risks already to not have to fly with missiles or lasers being fired at us, right? You don’t have to tell me now—tell me in my office, in private, and we’ll redo the schedule.”
“I’ll tell you right now, Boomer: I’m flying,” Ernesto Hermosillo, one of the senior student pilots, said. “Gryzlov can besar mi culo peludo.” The others in the briefing room all clapped and said they would go as well.
“Thank you, all of you,” Boomer said. “But I know you haven’t spoken about this with your families, and it has to be a family decision. After you talk with your families, if you want to cancel, just tell me. Like I said, no one will think less of you.
“We have one S-29 and one S-19 on the line, and two more 19s ready to go in a few days, so here are the assignments,” Boomer went on. “Gonzo and Sondra in the S-19, and myself and culo peludo Ernesto in the S-29. Because I anticipate doing some spacewalks when we arrive, I’ll be prebreathing.” He handed out the other assignments, always pairing up an experienced spaceplane commander with a student mission commander. “Get your physicals, we’ll all be in EEAS or ACES suits, and will probably stay in them for several days. Ernesto, we’ll brief right after we suit up during my prebreathe. Questions?” Boomer fielded several questions and shared a little nervous banter with his crews. “Okay, guys, the countdown has started for the first two birds. Let’s pay attention, work smart, work as a team, and everyone comes home. Let’s go.”
Sondra stayed behind after the others left, a little flash of anger in her eyes. “Why am I flying with Gonzo?” she asked. “Why can’t I fly with you?”
“You’re not checked out as MC in the S-29, Sondra,” Boomer said. “Ernesto is. Besides, I’m giving you and Gonzo the stop in Washington. You’ll get to meet the vice president and take her up to Armstrong.”
Instead of being surprised or happy about flying the vice president, Sondra was still angry. “I’m just a couple months from finishing the S-29 mission commander course,” she said petulantly. “I’m a better MC now in any of the spaceplanes than Ernesto will ever be.”
Boomer’s eyes rolled in surprise. “Whoa, whoa, Sondra. We don’t talk smack about fellow pilots, even in private. We’re a team.”
“You know it’s true,” Sondra said. “Besides, the damn thing practically flies itself—it doesn’t even need an MC. You did it because you’re pissed because we’re not sleeping together anymore.”
“I did it because you’re not checked out as an MC in the S-29, Sondra, simple as that,” Boomer said. “Besides, I made the decision not to sleep with you. Brad and I were working closer and closer together on Starfire, and I didn’t think it was right.”
“But it was okay when I started training here, wasn’t it?” Sondra spat. “You knew I was seeing him back then.”
“Sondra, I’m not changing the schedule,” Boomer said. “Fly with Gonzo or don’t fly.” He looked at his watch, then at her. “The countdown has started. Are you going or not?” In reply, she gave him an angry scowl, spun on a heel, and stormed out.
Boomer ran an exasperated hand across his face, confused and conflicted about what to do in this situation. But he resolved to put this personal matter out of his mind and concentrate on the task at hand.