Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)
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“No, I’m here for my residency. I’m
originally from California, though I was born in China.”

“Really? Where?”

“I was born in Jilin, in northeastern
China. My parents immigrated to San Francisco when I was two.”

“Well, welcome to America. Our
gain, China’s loss.”

She drew a bashful smile and bowed
her head, “Thank you.”

A waitress arrived with the iced
tea and asked if they wanted to order now or take a little more time. Jeff
asked her to give them a few minutes.

As they perused the menus she
asked, without looking at Jeff, “Mr. Grey, what’s this all about?”

“Please, Jeff. If it’s alright with
you, can we dispense with the formality?”

“Yes, of course. I’m Susan.”

“That’s better. Susan, as I said on
the phone, I’m the Chairman – and owner – of Grey Aerospace. It’s a new,
startup company, conceived with but one objective: a privately financed manned
mission to Mars. And I need a flight surgeon.”

Her head snapped up from the menu,
eyes wide, “Goodness! That sounds rather ambitious. But I’m not a flight
surgeon. Not even close.”

“But you could be. How much time
have you left in your residency?”

“About two months.”

“And did you have any definite
plans after that?”

“I would like to pursue an
aerospace medicine fellowship, but I haven’t found one yet. It’s a rather
narrow field. Aviation medicine physicians are not all that rare. Why don’t you
just hire one that’s already certified?”

“Sure, they’re around. But
virtually all are firmly planted in their positions with career paths already
in mind. But more to the point, as this is an entirely private operation, with
little, if any, government involvement, we’re going to be breaking some new
ground and doing things a bit different than NASA and the rest of the
established aerospace industry. Frankly Susan, I need a fresh mind with fresh
ideas. Someone who can, as they say, think outside the box.”

“I see.”

The waitress arrived again to take
their order.

“Susan?”

“I’ll have the crab and bay shrimp
Louie.”

The waitress nodded, “And for you
sir?”

“I think I’ll try the seafood
fritter platter. And a bowl of chowder.”

She nodded, took their menus and
headed off.

Susan stared out the window
watching the river, while Jeff stared at her.

“Uh, Jeff, your company is in
California?”

“No. I own a home in southern
California, Long Beach, but the company is in Newport, Rhode Island.”

“You must travel quite a bit.”

“Some. Though I expect the frequent
flyer miles to start stacking up at an atrocious rate pretty soon.”

She smiled. “So, what exactly is it
that you would want me to do?”

“Frankly, you’d probably wear more
hats than anyone else in the company, except me. Aside from the obvious, flight
crew medical evaluation, you would be responsible for flight crew physical
training, nutrition, spacecraft and planetary habitat environment, exercise,
and psychological evaluation and training for a two and a half year voyage,
space suit environmental factors, and the list goes on and on.”

As he spoke, her eyes grew wider
and wider. “But I have no expertise in any of those areas.”

“But you can learn. You’ve already
proven that. Look, our first cargo launch is scheduled for eighteen months from
now, with crew launch in about four years. There is time, not a lot, but you
don’t have to hit the deck running. Honestly, we’ve all got huge learning
curves ahead of us. But to get there, I need a team that I’m certain will work
well together and get the job done. And I think you would fit in perfectly. But
on a bit grander scale, Susan, I’m offering you a seat at the table for the
most ambitious space mission ever attempted. One that will rewrite the books,
and in ways that we haven’t even foreseen yet.”

She lowered her head and slowly
shook it back and forth. “I don’t know. This is just so far beyond anything I’d
ever thought of or planned for. I just don’t know.”

“I understand and, trust me, you’re
not alone. In two weeks I’m having a small group of, let’s say, principal
players, gather at my place in Newport. We’ll go over the entire program and
plans in thorough detail so that everyone is on the same page and understands
exactly what they’re getting into. If you could come and see firsthand what
we’re going to do, I think it would help you make up your mind. And it won’t
cost you a dime, I’ll pay for everything.”

“I don’t know. It’s awfully short
notice.”

“Life altering event. Surely worth
a long weekend?”

She turned back to the window and
watched the river roll by. After what seemed an eternity to Jeff, she turned
back to face him. “Alright. I make no promise that I will accept your offer,
but I’ll come and hear you out.”

“I can ask no more.”

Lunch arrived and they both dove
in. Susan smiled at Jeff, appearing considerably more relaxed than she had earlier.
“I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

“Me neither. Famished. Um, might I
ask, being born in China, I presume it doesn’t say ‘Susan’ on your birth
certificate?”

She laughed, “No. It’s Tianshu.”

“Tianshu. That’s lovely. And do you
speak, would it be… Mandarin?”

“Yes, and some Cantonese.”

“That could be useful.”

 

 

Friday, June 15, 2012
(T minus 1376 days)

 

“United Airlines announces the
arrival of flight 242 from Chicago.”

Jeff slid off the barstool in the Federal Tavern and
took his time strolling back to the security checkpoint at T.F. Green Airport.
He was excited, but didn’t want to look… too excited. He had spent the past two
weeks frantically preparing for their arrival and the big day was here. The
time had come to plead the case for his sanity and the jury was about to enter
the courtroom. If he could not convince this stellar pool of talent,
intelligence, and education that his idea had at least some reasonable chance
of success, it was over – and he could take a long vacation in Bermuda and rethink
his life. Perhaps he could get Abby to come along and keep him company. A
mental image of her in a bikini, stretched out under the sun on a long sandy
beach, suddenly popped into his head and, for a moment, Jeff thought that might
not be an entirely bad idea anyway. He savored the image for a minute then
shook his head and filed the thought away for future reference.

As Jeff stood in the midst of the
crowd of people anxiously – or perhaps not so anxiously – awaiting the arrival
of their friends, loved ones or business associates, he wondered if any of them
had the slightest inkling of the momentous nature of the occasion. He half
wanted to grab someone, shake them and scream in their face, “We’re going to
Mars! Life on this little planet will forever be changed, and you can tell your
grandchildren that you were there when it all began!” But he figured getting
hauled off by the airport police could put a damper on the weekend. Ah well,
they can all read about it in the paper.

Looking toward the gates Jeff saw a
line of passengers heading in his direction. At the same time nervous, excited,
and a bit apprehensive, he squinted, carefully scanning the faces, hoping to
see a familiar one. He suddenly caught a glimpse of flashing red hair and
instantly connected it with Abby’s face. She was no longer sporting a bun, but
wearing the long copper tresses down, and the cascade of red waved and danced
as she snapped her head to the side smiling and making some comment to… Gabe.
Jeff smiled to himself; it was bound to happen as the first-class seats he had
reserved for the three women were clustered together. And there, half hidden
behind Gabe was Susan, attentively listening to the conversation, and
struggling a bit to keep pace with the long strides of the other two. As they
approached, Jeff tried to subdue his excitement and consciously rubbed his
palms on his trousers – clammy hands simply would not do.

Susan was the first to spot him. She nudged Gabe
with her elbow, pointed and waved. Gabe and Abby quickly peered into the
waiting crowd and finally landing their eyes on him, followed suit. Jeff raised
his arm high, smiled broadly and waved in return. He pointed toward an open
area and began threading his way through the crowd.

“Ha! My three favorite people all
in a bunch; I guess we can skip the introductions.”

They all laughed. Abby grabbed his
arm, “Yeah, Gabe and I had it sorted out before we got off the ground in
Chicago, and Sue joined the club before we were out of Illinois.”

Jeff shook hands with each in turn,
“Great to see you all. Did you have a good flight?”

They all nodded, “Yes,” “Just
fine,” with Abby noting, “I’ve never flown first-class before. Sweet. Thanks.
That was very nice.”

To which Gabe added, “I’ve never
seen
first-class before.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. I’m just so
glad that you could all come.” He saw that all of them were carrying some
manner of overnight bag, “Any checked luggage?”

They responded with a chorus of ‘no’s. “Great. The
car’s out this way,” and he led them off. He was thankful they didn’t all
arrive with steamer trunks, thinking, they know how to pack light, that’ll be
useful. A separate launch for hair conditioner, toiletries, shoes and 900
changes of clothes just wasn’t in the budget.

As they approached the terminal’s
front door Jeff stopped short. “Hold up a second.” He stepped over to Gabe and
gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Congratulations… Dr. Frederick.”

She smiled, a bit embarrassed,
“Thank you. You remembered.”

“Of course. I watched the webcast
of your commencement exercise. Very impressive.” Turning to Abby and Susan, “In
case she was too modest to mention it, last Friday Gabe received her Ph.D. in
Aeronautics and Applied Physics from Caltech.”

There were congratulations all
around and Abby added, “Oh, fine. There’ll be no living with you now.”

 

They piled into the Escalade, left
the airport, turned onto I-95, and headed south. “It’s about a 45-minute drive
down to Newport. Have any of you been here before? Abby, you’ve been here,
haven’t you?”

“No, never made it up this way.”

Gabe, sitting next to Jeff in the
front seat, said, “I have, once. Came down while I was at MIT just to look
around. Interesting place. Very pretty.”

“Did you tour any of the mansions?”

“Yes, a couple. They kind of add a
whole new dimension to ‘opulent excess’.”

Jeff laughed, “That’s a fact.”

A few miles down the road, Jeff
pointed to the left, “About five miles east, on the bay, is Quonset State
Airport. It used to be Quonset Point Naval Air Station but during a round of
base closures back in the early ‘70s, the Navy handed it over to the state. I’m
thinking I’ll need to get a plane pretty soon, vagaries of commercial airline
scheduling being what they are. That’ll be a good place to park it.”

Abby leaned forward from the back
seat, “What kind of plane are you thinking about?”

“Oh, probably a Citation.”

“Those are nice. Any particular
model?”

“I’m leaning toward a CJ3, plenty
of them around. Didn’t you tell me you’re rated in Citations?”

“Yeah.”

“Single pilot?”

“Uh huh.”

“Have you flown a CJ3?”

“Sure. A bit anti-climactic after
F/A-18s, but fun to fly, very forgiving.”

Susan turned to her, “What’s an…
F/A-18?”

“F/A-18E Super Hornet. It’s a multi-mission,
single-seat, twin-engine fighter and ground attack jet.”

“Is that what you did in the Navy?
You were a fighter pilot?”

“Yep. Flew Super Hornets for about
five years.”

“I didn’t think they allowed women
in combat.”

“Oh yeah. Not many in fighters but
there are a few, more every year. It took the Navy a while to realize that a
woman with PMS in the seat of a jet fighter could be a devastating weapon, but
they finally figured it out.”

Everyone laughed. Jeff said, “God
have mercy on the bad guys.”

 

Jeff turned east onto 138 and, as
they crossed over the Jamestown Bridge, pointed north and south, “This is Narragansett
Bay.”

Gabe looked south, “Lot of
sailboats.”

“Oh yeah. This is one of the
sailing capitols of the world. Newport is the home of the New York Yacht Club.
And, no, don’t ask me why the New York Yacht Club isn’t in New York; I have no
idea. Anyway, the America’s Cup was held here, I dunno, maybe a dozen times
from the ‘30s clear into the early ‘80s. Do you sail?”

“Me? No. I’ve never even been on a
boat.”

“Hmmm. We may have to rectify that
discrepancy in your
résumé
.”

“Oh god, I think I’d get seasick.”

“You get used to it.”

“Do you live on an island?” Susan
asked.

“Yeah, Aquidneck Island. But it’s
pretty big, about 20 miles from end to end.”

 

They crossed over the Claiborne
Pell Bridge and turned south through town. “Welcome to beautiful downtown
Newport.” He turned left at Mill Street, then right onto Bellevue. “There’s a
quicker way to get to my place, but we’ll take the scenic route.”

It was getting on toward 5:30 and
the late-afternoon sun was giving the spring countryside a warm glow. Abby
pointed out the window, “What’s that, the county courthouse?”

“No,” Jeff said, “that’s a house,
or at least it used to be. That’s called ‘The Elms’. I don’t know who
originally owned it, some turn-of-the-century industrialist.”

“That’s a house? Good lord. Gabe, I
see what you mean about ‘opulent excess’. Wow.”

Gabe chuckled, “Wait till you see
what they look like inside.”

“There are more?”

“Oh yeah, a lot more.”

“Have you been in there?”

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