The Orthogonal Galaxy (45 page)

“
Blade, get dressed. We’re
due at the gym in 10 minutes.”

“
It’s too early fo’
this!”

“
You heard Gilroy. 5:30
AM!”

Blade closed the door, and
Paol listened through to hear his partner cursing lowly as he
shuffled around the room getting ready for their first day of
training. Abruptly, the door opened, and Paol, leaning against it,
almost fell into the room. Blade looked disheveled, but he was at
least attired in a sweat suit that was given to him for his workout
sessions.

At the gym, the trainers
got acquainted quickly with the physical capabilities of each man.
Paol was noted for having more endurance than his counterpart, but
Blade had spent some time at the gym at prison, developing upper
body strength. Both had their work cut out for them, and their
trainers spent the session showing them the various cardio,
flexibility, and weight-training exercises that they would need to
do. Both were expected to return to the gym each evening after
dinner.

“
But we’ll be swamped
hittin’ the books,” Blade objected.

“
The books will be
meaningless if we can’t get physically prepared for this
mission!”

Blade nodded and accepted
the order without further criticism.

Throughout the day, the
recently released criminals were introduced to teachers and flight
trainers as well. Large quantities of downloads to their iText
Readers indicated the vast reading and memorization assignments
that were given to both. Cockpit acronyms, pre-flight checklists,
safety guidelines and more were given to them on just the first day
in the simulator room.

Upon leaving the simulator
building, the pair squinted in the bright sunlight and found their
way to the cafeteria, with the help of some other NASA employees
who happened by when they realized that they were hopelessly lost
on the sprawling Johnson Space Center campus. Paol opted for the
chicken Caesar salad with breadsticks, while Blade chose a bowl of
Italian minestrone and a club sandwich.

“
How we gonna learn all
this stuff ‘bout the airplane?” Blade asked after blowing on the
soup in his spoon to cool it off. “We got tons to start memorizin’
tonight, and we ain’t even been to the classroom yet!”

“
Well, we begin by
beginning now,” Paol said reaching in his shirt pocket for his
iText Reader. Turning on the blue-white display he asked, “What
does HMDS stand for?”

“
Uh… Head-mounted display
system,” said Blade and then slurped down his soup with an
approving nod of his head. “Mmm... good stuff.”

“
Close,” encouraged Paol.
“It’s Helmet-mounted though.”

“
Well, the helmet mounts
on the head, don’t it?”

“
Yes, but it’s the display
that we’re talking about, and it mounts on the helmet.”

“
Ok, wise guy,” said
Blade, pulling out his reader to continue the duel.
“HOC!”

“
Hands… off Control.
Right?”

“
Yeah, I started ya’ off
light, so fer extra credit, can ya’ name the two types of
HOC?”

“
Easy,” Paol said with a
snicker indicating that his companion was taking it way too easy on
him. “There’s gloved control, where the position and motions of the
hands are calculated through glove-mounted motion control sensors.
And there’s optical-sensing control, where image sensors
continually scan the cockpit for visual detection of location and
motion.”

“
Ok, since ya’ seem to
have soaked up everythin’, what’s the pros and cons of the two
systems.”

“
The gloved system can
utilize finer motion controls. For example, to indicate a right
roll maneuver to the aircraft, the right index finger makes one
clockwise rotation. For a left roll, the right index finger makes a
counter-clockwise rotation. You can use the same finger for both
motions. However, with optical-sensing control, there is a chance
that the optics will not be able to discern the direction of the
roll, so the right index finger is used for right motion and the
left index finger has to be used for a roll to the
left.”

“
Nice job, Paol. Now, can
ya’ tell me what the right middle finger is used fo’?”

Paol hesitated and
strained to remember. “Yeah, I remember talking about this one—give
me a moment.” Rubbing his forehead and straining to remember, there
was just so much that brain could absorb from the first day of
instruction in the simulator room, and the teachers really did
fire-hose them. Thinking out loud, he continued. “I’m sure they
talked about the middle finger gesture. I just—just don’t
remember.” He looked up at Blade for an answer. “You stumped me,
Blade. What is the middle finger used for again?”

Smiling in triumph for
finally stumping his fellow astronaut, Blade stated
matter-of-factly that “of course, when pointed up, the middle
finger gesture is used to indicate someone’s vehement displeasure
with another individual to whom the back of one’s hand is
extended.”

Paol chose the worst of
all times to put a large bite of salad in his mouth, as he laughed
involuntarily at the joke that was played on him, and the salad
found its way back onto the plate. After wiping his mouth with his
napkin, he turned towards Blade, doubled over in laughter. “If I
were a less civil man, I would try the gesture on you to make sure
I got it right.”

“
Hoo boy that was a good
one,” Blade said as he struggled to regain his breath. “But, all
kiddin’ aside, I think it should be used as a legitimate
signal.”

“
Yeah? And why is that?”
Paol said trying once again to consume his chicken
salad.

“
Just think ‘bout it,
Paol. If I’m caught in the crossfire, and my plane gets riddled
with bullets, I’m gonna be in such a state of panic that I ain’t
gonna remember no hand signals—except one. When I realize that I’m
so totally screwed, I’ll extend both middle fingers to indicate my
vehement displeasure with the bastard that gunned me down, and it
will save my life, as I hear the pleasant cockpit voice say, ‘Thank
you fo’ choosin’ to fly the XJ-20. Fo’ yer safety and protection,
the vehicle will now eject yer seat into the
atmosphere.’”

Curiously, Paol poked at
the display of his reader while Blade finished the joke. His smile
was quickly replaced with an open-gaped mouth.
“Unbelievable!”

“
What?” said Blade as he
tried to peer in at Paol’s LCD display.

“
I just searched the XJ-20
manual for ‘middle finger’ and it came up with this: ‘Extend both
middle fingers towards the top of the vehicle in order to open the
canopy and complete seat-ejection sequencing.’ Looks like you’re
not the first to think of that clever little usage of the
ubiquitous hand signal.”

Blade continued to chuckle
while concluding the conversation with a final thought. “Great
minds thinks alike!”

“
Ok,” Paol said steering
the pair back on track. “We need to finish this lunch, and get back
to business. What does MPS stand for?”

“
Main power system,” Blade
fired back quickly. “When comin’ up from a cold start, the first
step is to switch on the MPS.”

“
And then what?” Paol
drilled.

“
Uh.... Put the ignition
in standby... er... idle the throttle, and the OBC, or on-board
computer, takes over fo’ the rest of ignition
sequencing.”

“
You are a quick study,
Blade Slater,” Paol approved with a bow of the head. “I’m glad to
have you as my partner on this adventure.”

Humbly, Blade deferred the
recognition. “Ah, we got a long way to go, my friend. I suspect
that we’ll be needin’ each other lots to get through this
effort.”

Noticing that time was
limited, they finished their lunch quickly and quietly, each
consumed in his own thoughts.

During the afternoon,
classroom instructors were impressed that both students were
farther ahead of schedule than expected. Expectations were high for
Paol, but nobody could’ve imagined that a high-school dropout and
drug-dealing convict would already have a strong grasp of
trigonometry and calculus. His math instructor attempted to stump
him with question after question on differential equations,
analytical geometry, infinite series, trigonometric equivalences.
Blade was able to work through nearly everything, balking only
occasionally for a quick prompt from the teacher. Paol was much
more rusty, having been farther removed from some of the more
abstract concepts. Blade seemed naturally geared towards the
subject, however.

Paol was quicker than his
younger cohort in a chemistry overview, but both performed
admirably in both static and dynamic physics. Blade, however, was
much softer in the computer sciences. He had studied these topics,
but had little opportunity for hands-on study or experimentation
during his prison years. Paol understood this field through many
years of experience.

As the pair left the
classroom at 4:15, they conversed lightly but felt the weight of
the mission that lay ahead.

“
Boy, this reminds me of
my college days,” Paol reminisced.

“
It’s a darn shame I
didn’t apply myself and go on to college. Learnin’ is so
exhilaratin’. If I only knew then…”

“
But here’s your second
chance,” affirmed Paol with a smile and slap on the
back.

“
This time’ll be
different, fo’ sure. This time, I’ll take the bull by the
balls.”

Paol gave a start at the
imagery invoked by this adage. “I don’t think you want to do that,
Buddy.”

“
Why not?”

“
I think you want to take
the bull by the horns.”

“
Nah… from what I hear,
everybody takes the bull by the horns… I’m takin’ it one step
farther.” Blade laughed jovially and enjoyed his newly coined
saying. Paol appreciated his partner’s optimism.

“
Anyway,” Paol redirected
the conversation. “Looks like we survived the first day, Blade ‘ol
buddy.”

“
Not yet, we
ain’t.”

“
Why not?”

“
Tons of books to hit
tonight, and Kai ordered me back to the gym too.”

Shaking his head in
understanding, Paol replied, “I’m starting to wonder whether we’re
more likely to die during the mission or before the
mission.”

…

The embrace was powerful
and emotional. Tears fell freely on each shoulder and even the
three bystanders were moved to emotion. Closest to Paol Joonter and
his wife were their two teenage sons, ages 12 and 16. Paol looked
at them through blurry eyes, trying to imagine what they would make
of their lives while he was gone. By the time he returned from his
mission, they would be in their 30s.

Blade Slater stood farther
off, in the corner of the room. His lips were tightly pursed, and
his eyes glistened with tears, which had not yet rolled down his
cheeks. His emotion was one of joy seeing his dear friend reunited
with his family after the long months apart. But it was also filled
with the emptiness of not having a family to call his own. While
his mother visited him a few times shortly after he had been
sentenced to the U.S. Penitentiary in Atlanta, her visits became
farther apart, until finally he lost all contact with her. His
uncle visited a couple of times as well, but they weren’t
encouraging to Blade. Instead, they were just reminders of how he
had failed and missed the opportunity that his uncle had offered
him. How could he have been so stupid? His thoughts were broken as
he heard his name.

“
Blade!” It was Paol. “I’d
like you to meet my family.” With his arm wrapped tightly around
his wife’s waist, he introduced Blade to each of family member, and
Blade graciously received his sons with a warm hand shake, but his
wife refused Blade’s hands, preferring instead to throw her arms
around him and kiss him on the cheek.

“
Thank you, Blade,” said
Joyera with red and swollen eyes. “I was made aware from my
husband’s letters that when I couldn’t be there for him—you always
were. It meant so much to me that Paol had been placed in the great
company of a decent and good man.”

There was no sound of sobs
from Blade, but the tears which had previously been contained now
flowed freely down his face. “I’m so glad to meet you all. Paol’s
told me all ‘bout each of ya’.”

After brief cordialities
and deepened introductions, Blade excused himself. He was glad to
meet Paol’s family, but he also knew that Paol needed time alone
with them.

“
I’ll just head be headin’
back, then,” Blade stated awkwardly. “You all have so much to catch
up on.”

“
Are you sure you won’t at
least come have dinner with us?” Joyera asked imploringly. Blade
felt like family to her, through the descriptive closeness to which
she had grown by reading each of her husband’s letters from
prison.

“
Ah, no, Ma’am. Thank ya’
kindly, but Kai—that’s my personal trainer—has given me strict
instructions to be in the gym every evenin’.”

“
Well, Blade, it is a
pleasure to meet you. We’ll be seeing you soon.”

Paol waved his family
ahead of him, and as they left the visitor’s lounge at Johnson, he
confronted his friend. “You gonna be ok, Blade?”