Space in His Heart (12 page)

This
had
to end.

“Colonel, I don’t mind a few interviews and a
couple of photo sessions, but, really, I’m concerned about
Endeavour
.”

Jim stood and clasped his hands behind his
back as he studied the flats of Kennedy out his window. Deke
followed his gaze to Launch Pad 39B, the empty gantry breaking the
horizon as it reached into the eastern skies.

“I realize that,” the Colonel agreed. “All
the PR in the world won’t help if that shuttle is delayed and Micah
Petrenko gets any worse.”

“How is he?” Deke asked quietly, taking the
mention of the cosmonaut’s name as permission to open the delicate
subject.

“Same. He’ll be fine if we get up there by
the middle of February and get him the necessary medication. The
doctors feel comfortable we have about that much time. Of course,
they want him home. The Russians are anxious and, frankly, it’s
getting ugly. Remember, he’s the nephew of a diplomat.”

Deke nodded, happy to have his case supported
but not pleased for the sick man floating about on the ISS. “I’ve
been close to Skip Bowker for the past few weeks, sir. I think he’s
troubled and I’m concerned about its impact on launch prep.”

“I know that he’s been unhappy for a long
time. He’s an old space cowboy who lost his wife and
Challenger
in the same year. Not sure he ever recovered from
it. He may be tired of the game, but he’s still at the top of
it.”

Deke pressed on. “There’s no doubt Skip
Bowker is the best in the world and he seems certain that
Endeavour
is tight as a drum. But, there was a fuel leak on
Columbia
and no one can pinpoint why it happened or convince
me that it won’t happen again.”

Jim Price had to know the deadly results of a
fuel leak coupled with a common computer bug on the redundant
system.

“That’s why I’d rather be at the Cape than
smiling my ass off for Jay Leno,” Deke finished.

Colonel Price turned away from the window to
look at Deke. “NASA is very pleased with the results of this PR
effort. I know it’s a bit of a hardship on your schedule, but the
results, believe it or not, are already beginning to show. Work
with me for just a few more weeks. I’ve asked Jessica Marlowe to
join us so we can prioritize and arrange your schedule.”

The Colonel hit his intercom to call his
secretary.

Deke pressed his hands together and leaned
his chin on his fingertips, misgivings about the inspection
suddenly taking a backseat to the fact Jessica was on her way
in.

“I like that young lady,” Price confided.
“Very professional. Very smart. And quite effective at her
job.”

“Absolutely, sir.” One helluva package. “She
really knows her stuff.” Deke looked out the window. When he heard
the staccato click of her high heels on the tile floor, he
tightened in anticipation. Over the past few weeks, they’d reached
a working truce and managed to avoid each other except for
interviews, but she always elicited a definite physical response
that he was determined to hide from the Colonel. And from her.

She strode into the office with her usual
confidence and grace, a subtle and now-familiar, clean fragrance
coming from somewhere in the vicinity of her dark hair. “Thank you
for inviting me to join you.”

Price lightened up immediately, apparently
not completely immune to her charms either.

“Deke and I were just discussing his
schedule. You know,
Endeavour
goes up in nine weeks. We’re
focused on preparing for that mission to ensure it is entirely safe
and successful. Deke plays an important role in that area. However,
he certainly is playing an equally important role in our efforts to
reinvigorate NASA’s image.”

“Oh, he is, Colonel.” That sparkle danced in
her eyes like it always did when she got on this subject. “I think
we’re making good progress toward our objectives of positioning
Commander Stockard as a—a popular celebrity.” He knew she wouldn’t
dare say sex symbol in front of him.

“Does he have to go on Leno?”

“It is a wonderful opportunity, sir. After
the success of that photo release and then the interview in
People
, the timing’s perfect. The
Tonight Show
reaches millions of wom—viewers. It won’t take long.”

She flashed a quick look at Deke, none too
happy with him, he bet. They’d had this discussion in private
several times over the past few weeks and she was probably ticked
he’d brought it all the way to Price. She’d no doubt called in a
few favors to get him on Leno.

“It takes too long to get to L.A.,” he
said.

“Can’t you fly a T-38 and be there in a
couple of hours?”

He leaned back and returned her glare. “The
airfare is about a hundred grand of taxpayer money for me to fly a
T-38 to L.A. and about seventeen million if something happens to
it. How do you handle
that
in the media?”

“We haven’t had any negative reaction so far,
Deke, and you know it,” she replied. It’s been overwhelmingly
positive. You have a Q quotient—a popularity rating—of twenty-six
already. That’s really unheard of after only a few weeks of
publicity. You’re becoming a household name.” She turned to Colonel
Price. “This can only reflect positively on NASA… and the funding,
sir.”

Deke didn’t even listen to Price simpering in
agreement after she pulled out
that
trump card. Damn, he
couldn’t spend this much time away from Safety and Logistics doing
any more of this stuff. Each phase of engineering and safety
inspections was crucial and he wanted to personally run the
computer programs and touch those wires and peer inside each
crevice of that shuttle. He
had
to before it got on the
crawler and started its long, slow haul down the three-mile gravel
road to the launch pad. Then it would be too late. Another thought
nagged at him.

“Are you going to L.A.?” he blurted out to
her, realizing too late that he’d interrupted the Colonel.

She raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning to.
You’ll be escorted by one of our people out there. We have clients
on the
Tonight Show
as a matter of course. It’s very
routine.”

“Okay. Whatever.” He waved his hand in
dismissal, wishing he hadn’t asked. Wishing, for some infuriating
reason, that she’d said yes. Damn, this had to come to an end.
Quickly.

Colonel Price had clearly taken sides. “It
really makes sense, Deke. Take the T-38 to Edwards and you can be
back the next day.” The Colonel’s phone interrupted him and he
picked it up and turned away into another conversation.

“What
is
the problem?” Jessica
whispered at him, a sarcastic edge lacing her voice. “Do you really
think everyone’s going to fall apart without you for a few
days?”

He stared at her, unable to stop the smile
from creeping across his lips. “Only you, sweetheart.” Then he
thoroughly enjoyed the flush that spread over her pretty face.

* * *

Deke arrived at the Orbiter Processing
Facility at daybreak, knowing he had a few precious hours before
the pre-flight check of the T-38 and his solo flight to L.A. for
the Leno thing. He hoped to beat Skip Bowker to the facility,
although the man was known for his pre-dawn arrivals and late-night
departures as launch dates drew near.

There were only a few technicians around as
Deke ran his access card through the reader and entered the cold
and cavernous Hangar Two.
Endeavour
rested silently in the
center of the facility, still raised on its landing gear, the mouth
of the cargo bay opened wide in anticipation of the rest of the
gear and supplies that would be strapped into place prior to
launch.

The hangar was virtually soundless except for
the hum of a few machines and Deke’s footsteps as he walked back to
the technician’s offices that lined the north wall. He stuck his
head into the only one that was lit and occupied by Mike Biggars,
another engineer Deke knew well. “Morning, Mike.”

“Hey, Deke. What are you doing here? I was
just reading about you in the paper. So cool that you’re going to
meet Leno!” The wiry young technician held up a section of the
local paper with Deke’s picture in full color. A resident astronaut
appearing on The Tonight Show rated big coverage. At least it did
when he had an unrelenting she-wolf as a publicist.

“Listen, I need to get into the Pre-Launch
Inspection Check files while I’m here. Whose computer can I
use?”

“Scott Hayes won’t be in for a while. Right
next door.” Mike pointed with his thumb to the dark, glass-walled
office behind him. Deke nodded thanks, flipped the lights in Scott
Hayes’s tidy office, and powered up the monitor.

Using his own password, Deke quickly called
up the files and logs he needed. Scanning through each of the
dozens of sections, all detailing the painstaking inspection
process for every component of the shuttle, Deke frowned and leaned
toward the screen. There were so many holes. So much of these
routine things should have been done by now. All the wiring reports
checked out, but what about the forward reaction control systems?
It didn’t make sense. Some piece of the technical puzzle was
missing.

He called up another file and glanced around
Hayes’s perfectly ordered desk while he waited for the computer to
respond. In a standing file folder, he read the neatly typed
labels. One was marked PLUG RECS. Recommendations? He reached for
it just as the log he wanted flashed on the screen and stole his
attention.

Even more holes in this log. When he looked
up into the hangar, he noticed more lights were coming on in the
offices. He had to talk to Skip. Switching off Scott’s monitor, he
went in search of a second cup of coffee and Skip Bowker. He found
both on the floor of the hangar, with Skip standing behind one of
the massive exhaust systems of the orbiter Endeavour.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Movie Star.” Skip held
up his steaming cup in a mock toast. “Guess we’ll all have to stay
up late tonight, eh?”

Damn, this thing was going to ruin his
credibility along with his inspection schedules. “Don’t let me cut
into your beauty sleep, Skip. God knows you need it.” Deke put his
hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Got a minute? I just went
through the PLIC and I couldn’t find a couple of things. Can you
help me out?”

“What’re you looking for, Deke?”

“Forward reaction logs? Coolant tube checks?”
The list was longer than that, but he didn’t want to attack.

Skip cocked his head and looked askance at
Deke. “Not there? Both done, several times. These guys must be
getting a little behind on the record keeping, but I know they’ve
been done.” They started to walk together into Skip’s office.
“Listen, Deke, would you sign my copy of the newspaper? My niece
out in California is hounding me for something from you.” He
chuckled as he handed Deke a ballpoint pen. “Don’t worry about the
inspections, my friend. You got bigger things to do for NASA
now.”

Deke could feel his blood boil with Bowker’s
blatant kiss-off. The autograph business riled him even more. But
an attitude wouldn’t get him what he wanted.

“Yeah, well, my focus is still in this
hangar, Skip, and on these inspections. I hate to be such a pain,
but you know what’s at stake.”

Skip shook his head. “The next one’s the
biggie, man. Your first flight as Commander. The press ought to eat
that up.”

Deke caught himself before he swore under his
breath. “Forward those logs to me by email after they’re done? I’ll
be back tomorrow.”

“Sure, Deke. No problem. Now, here, can you
sign this right here under your picture?”

Deke grabbed the newspaper and scratched his
name with a pen Skip handed him. Without a word, he dropped it on
Skip’s desk and shot him a warning glare. “Email the logs right
away.”

He didn’t remember the file on Scott Hayes’s
desk until he’d already finished the T-38 inspection and taxied
down the runway. Damn it all. He had to get away from all this
distraction. As soon as
Endeavour
went up—safely—he would
use his impending command of
Atlantis
as the airtight excuse
to get off this assignment. He might miss that girl’s sexy smile
and snappy wit, but he wouldn’t miss what she put him through.

* * *

The day of Deke’s
Tonight Show
appearance started early for Jessica, who watched the sunrise
during a hard morning jog and was at her desk at NASA operations
before eight. She checked email and prepared for a mid-morning
conference call with the account team, including the L.A. people
who were handling Deke. She wasn’t surprised when her phone rang
before eight thirty, expecting Bill Dugan to check in early.

“Hello, Jessica. It’s Carla Drake.”

Oh, what a lovely way to start the day. “Hi,
Carla. How’s it going?”

“Awesome, Jess. And how about you, with a
client on the
Tonight Show
! Are you excited?”

For some reason, she hated that Carla knew
what was happening on her accounts. Sure, it was probably posted
all over the agency email loops, but it still irked her.

“Too busy to be excited, Carla. What’s
up?”

“I wanted to call and congratulate you.”

“Well. Thanks.” That couldn’t be all. It
wasn’t possible. “How are things at Dash?” She steeled herself for
the ultra-positive spin Carla would surely put on her relationship
with Jessica’s biggest client.

“Great. Surely you’ve heard about the new
campaign.”

“Mmmm.” Jessica clicked into her email for
distraction.

“Tony thinks it’s Silver Anvil material for
the agency.”

For the agency? Or for the
interim
account manager? “Super, Carla. Can’t wait to read the marketing
plan. When will I get it?”

“Oh, you have so much on your mind with the
space program, Jess. Don’t worry about it.”