Harry - Season 3
Monday, May 15 2006
Kennedy Space Center, Launch Pad 39A
Standing on pad 39A was like getting to hold hands with a pretty girl for the first time. Harry had been seven the first time he’d visited the cape, but then and every time after, he’d never really, truly, honestly believed he’d ever set foot on the rotating service structure.
Or any other part of the pad, for that matter.
“You all right?” Charley, his guide asked. She smiled up at him knowingly, bright eyes looking out just beneath the bill of her hard hat.
“Yeah,” Harry said, taking in the place. “She’s a little rusty.”
“It’s supposed to be used more often than this. It’s been out of business for close to nine months. Use keeps these things shiny.”
“So where are the egress baskets?” Harry asked.
“They’re off the fixed service structure so they’re more accessible to the astronauts.”
“Can you show me?”
“Of course. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” She asked. Harry imagined she’d talk about the concrete in the fire trench with the same gleam in her eyes. She seemed excited about absolutely everything
“How long have you been working here?” Harry asked, hoping to sound conversational.
“Just a few weeks,” she said. “I’m an intern. My classes are such that I have some time to start learning now. NASA is great that way.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Harry said. “I’m ready to start a graduate program myself.”
“Florida Tech is a great school.”
Harry followed her down the first access ladder they came to. “I’ll have to look into it.”
*****
Monday, May 15 2006
Kennedy Space Center, Launch Pad 39A
Harry looked down the length of cable to the termination point almost a quarter of a mile West of the tower. It went without saying that it was tested to at least 150 percent the weight of a fully suited astronaut, or 750 pounds or so. That would be a static test, and rightly so. Any astronaut worth having would sit still and behave themselves in a situation requiring the egress system.
His new boss had tasked him with an independent safety evaluation. Ignoring the fact that it wasn’t what he’d trained for, it did look like a simple enough problem to prove the system out, but it would wait until tomorrow.
He wanted to do some more thinking to make sure he had his ducks in a row.
“Harry? You still with me?” Charley asked from beside him.
He looked down into those same bright eyes. . . They really were an amazing shade of blue. “Yeah. I’m good. I was just thinking.”
“About what? I mean, it’s cool and all, I’d like to ride it. But it’s just a basket and a cable.”
Harry smiled. He’d been that young. . . Not very long ago at all, honestly.
“It’s also my assignment.”
Her cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Oh. I see.”
“I haven’t been doing this very long myself, but one thing I have learned is there are a lot of little, ordinary pieces that go into making spaceflight possible.”
“You don’t strike me as a little ordinary person, Harry,” Charley said with a shy grin. “I don’t think you could learn to be one if you tried.”
*****
Monday, May 15 2006
Kennedy Space Center, Launch Pad 39A
Harry stood at the base of 39A looking up at the escape cables. He knew he’d have to confirm, but he was certain that whoever designed the safety protocol would have done it straight-line. So much weight in the basket, if it survives the entire length, it’s good. Excess weight in the basket was supposed to simulate shock loading.
The only way to confirm the process was to find a different basis to test. Repeating the same thing wasn’t apt to come up with a different resolution.
Shock is just that – shock. It’s non-uniform loading. Dead weight running the length of the cable doesn’t really replicate shock.
Only shock does.
Harry pictured an apparatus like an industrial tamper – basically a reciprocating power source connected to a flat plate via a spring-loaded cylinder. While he was sure a commercially available appliance could be adapted to the job, he figured NASA would want a design for a custom-made unit.
That was just how they worked.
He also saw a cable running from the basket down to a dead-man on the ground. Something solid enough to jerk the basket to a stop in the middle of the cable. It was never supposed to happen, but that’s why it was called a contingency. Just because it wasn’t supposed to happen didn’t mean that it couldn’t happen.
“You all right, Harry?” Charley asked.
He nodded and smiled. “Yes ma’am. Just finishing up a staff meeting.”
“You’re something else, you know that?” She gave his arm a gentle pat. “Can I buy you supper?”
*****
Monday, May 15 2006
Sleepy Oak Apartments, Titusville, FL
It was after eleven when Harry parked his car. For transitional employee housing, the condo was pretty nice, but he looked forward to getting out of it once Stephanie got a house taken care of. Regardless of how nice it was, it still felt temporary.
All things come in time, Harry thought as he started walking.
“Harry!” The hushed squeal he heard as he passed the pool jolted him back to reality. “I should have known you were staying here!”
Cringing inwardly, Harry turned until he found its source, Charley.
Bathed in moonlight, she’d obviously not been out of the water for long. Maybe six inches shorter and three years younger than him, she looked confident in a white bikini that was small enough that it would have been tough to spot in the daylight.
“Hello, Charley.”
“Are you just getting home? Why so late?”
Harry shrugged. “My supervisor wanted a status report on my findings and a potential plan drafted out.”
She reached out with a free hand and patted his left arm. “Oh, you’ve had a long day! I’m sorry I bothered you. You must just want some rest.”
“It’s all right,” Harry said with a hint of a smile. He felt her pull her hand back and watched her tuck a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear. “It is bedtime, though.”
She picked up a fluffy white towel and started drying herself. “Yeah, it definitely is. I should have been in bed a while ago.”
Harry nodded. “Good night, Charley.”
She’d bent over to reach a foot, still patting herself dry. With a little grin, she looked back at him. “Good night, Harry. Sweet dreams.”
*****
Monday, May 15 2006
Sleepy Oak Apartments, Titusville, FL
“You’re calling kind of late.” Stephanie sounded tired.
“Yeah, the boss is pushing a safety evaluation. It’s not really my bailiwick, but I’ll get there.”
“Harry, if it’s not your thing, why do they have you doing it?”
“They liked the debris model. They figure that since I was good at that, I’d be good at this.”
“Will you?”
Harry smiled a little. “Good enough. It’s not hard, and I guess it’s good for junior personnel.”
“You could be doing more.”
“I’ve done less.” Harry blinked back the sting in his tired eyes. “So, what are you wearing?”
Stephanie laughed. “I can’t do phone sex. I love you, but I just can’t, Harry."
“A guy can hope. You could just make something up.”
“Maybe I can come see you. Wouldn’t that be better?”
“It’s that flowered number, isn’t it? The one that stops just below your-“ Harry heard sheets rustling over the line and knew he was right.
“Wearing what I know you like helps me miss you a little less.”
“I miss you too, beautiful. And yes, it’d be great to see you. Suppose the great machine could cut loose of you for a long weekend?”
“It shouldn’t be a big deal. They never do interviews on Fridays anyway. I’ll talk to the boss tomorrow.”
“And check into some plane tickets?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Of course,” Stephanie laughed. “I need to come make sure all those nubile interns know that what’s mine is mine.”
“Always a good idea,” Harry said conspiratorially. “I’m ready to be reclaimed.”
*****
Tuesday, May 16 2006
Kennedy Space Center Headquarters Bldg., Merritt Island, FL
Harry knew he was off to a good start when he found the average industrial tamper weighed about 140 pounds and would easily fit in an escape basket. Adding 350 pounds of steel to it wouldn’t be too hard, and would certainly be cost effective. Together, that would put the apparatus weight at 150 percent of the average maximum weight of a suited astronaut, as well as introduce his shock mechanism.
His supervisor ruled out a braking mechanism, allowing that it was too far outside of the rescue system’s operational design to assume it might seize in the middle of the escape track. While Harry’s engineering training insured that he considered any possibility, he took the minor critique in stride.
After all, the boss was the boss.
Steel, on average, weighed about 490 pounds per cubic foot. He’d need about seven tenths of that, give or take a bit. Plates would both be easier and provide backing to prevent inadvertent damage to the rescue basket from the tamper if it was placed correctly. It was a plan, and a simple one at that, which made it a good one.
Harry leaned back from the notes forming on his computer screen with a little satisfaction. It wasn’t as glitzy as his shuttle debris project had been, but he knew it took all sorts of projects to make space happen.
“Harry? Phil says we’re going out to lunch today. You ready to go?” Charley looked radiant as she leaned over his cube wall.
“Really? Yeah, I guess it’s fine,” Harry said as he got up and followed her out of the cube farm toward their waiting supervisor.
*****
Tuesday, May 16 2006
Brasas Grill Brazillian SteakHouse, Merritt Island, FL
“How are you two getting along?” Phil Connor asked between bites of fillet mingon.
“Fine,” Harry said noncommittally.
“Perfect,” Charley glowed. “I’m enjoying working with Harry.”
“Good,” Phil said. He turned to Harry. “I’d like you to involve Charley wherever you can as you execute the rest of your project. Let her see what you do, and try to give her some of the simpler tasks to perform on her own. It’d be good experience for both of you – her to have some project involvement, and you to do some delegation.”
Caught squarely between the legitimacy of the request and the memory of Charley’s skin glistening in the moonlight as she stepped out of the pool, Harry managed no more than, “Yes, sir.”
“Young people like yourselves are the hope of our field.” Phil smiled and nodded. “What do you guys think of Florida? Have you visited here much?”
“I came for launches when I was growing up,” Harry said. “It’s not Texas, to be sure.”
“How about you, Charley?”
“I was born and raised in Miami, myself. It’s nice up here,” she said as she tucked into her salad. “It looks like there’ll be less storms up here, which is good. More sunlight to enjoy.”
“Beach rat?” Phil asked conspiratorially.
“Beaches, surfing, snorkeling. . . anything that puts me in the sunlight.”
“We’re glad to have you here, Charley. There’s lots to be learned from people like Harry.”
Charley looked at Harry, and seemed to resist moving her hand to touch his. “I intend to maximize the experience, Mr. Connor. Thank you.”
*****
Tuesday, May 16 2006
Kennedy Space Center, Merritt Island, FL
“Harry, are all fabricators that way?” Charley asked.
“What way?” Harry grinned. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back. She was obviously searching for words that were staying one step ahead of her, caught between genuine curiosity and a desire not to venture out of the bounds of professionalism. After a few minutes, he decided to let her off the hook. “I can’t speak for all fabricators, and I haven’t been at this too long myself, but it’s been my experience that the best people don’t follow a very conventional path.”
“I figured they’d be more businesslike.”
“We’re taught to respect different cultures, right? Chinese, Japanese, French, that sort of thing, right?”
“I guess so.”
“I don’t have a lot of experience myself, but it seems like fabricators, for instance, are their own cultural type as well. You’ll come to find out that when you’re surrounded by a certain type of people, you can’t really help but adopt some of their habits. Fabricators, for instance, are very detail oriented – their work commonly comes down to fractions of millimeters. They have to be very attentive when they’re working. So, when they’re not actually fabricating something, they tend to kind of. . . cut loose.”
“But. . . cartoons?”
“The last one I worked with extensively was a soap opera fan.”
They walked quietly toward their office building as Charley tried to process her own confusion. “Were you a fabricator?"
Harry laughed. “I take it you think I’m a little odd, too?”
She grinned and shrugged a little.
“I’m an engineer. I can’t turn it off the way a fabricator does. There’s a part of me that envies them for that, actually.”
“You’re all business.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether it was a statement or a question. In the end, he answered honestly. “I hope not.”
*****
Tuesday, May 16 2006
Kennedy Space Center, Merritt Island, FL
“You all right?” Harry called across the parking lot.
Charley looked beyond forlorn. “My car won’t start.”
As bad as Harry wanted to go home, he wasn’t leaving anyone behind, particularly a young woman. “Won’t crank, or won’t start? There’s a difference.”
“Nothing happens when I turn the key.”
“Any lights come on?”
“They’re really dim,” she said.
“The battery’s dead,” Harry determined, half to her and half to himself. “Come on, let’s go find you a battery.”
She stood immobile. “I can’t let you do that.”
“And I can’t leave you here in a parking lot. If you feel guilty, you can buy the battery.” Harry waved his arm in a ‘come here motion’. “You’ll have to do that with anyone anyway. I promise you, I work cheap.
She shrugged, collected her things, and came Harry’s direction. Harry noticed the moment he sat down behind the steering wheel – his car smelled wonderful. He’d noticed the fragrance wafting in the air and assumed it was Charley, but now it was obvious.
It was also obvious that he couldn’t say anything. There was no good outcome to admitting that he found a college girl attractive. Chasing her out of his mind wasn’t working – he was stuck at the image of her in her bikini again.
“We’ll grab a battery, toss it in, and you’ll be off to the races,” he said with a smile. “Nothing fifty bucks or so shouldn’t solve.”
“I hate that I’m being inconvenient for you.”
“Buckle up,” Harry smiled. “Let’s ride.”
*****
Tuesday, May 16 2006
Kennedy Space Center, Merritt Island, FL
Her hand on his bicep crackled with electricity. The appreciation in her eyes was bigger than the satisfaction that he’d been right and fixed the problem.
“Can I buy you some supper?” Charley asked. Her lips parted in a smile that Harry found very cute. “You know, to show my appreciation and all?”
Harry took another breath, considering all the possibilities he saw in her eyes. When he shook his head, it was definitive. “It’s my grocery shopping night. I have to go, or the store will close and I won’t have anything to eat tomorrow. You wouldn’t like me when I’m hungry.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me, Harry.”
“Most things are,” Harry smiled as he turned to his car. Over his shoulder, he added, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He drove away toward the grocery store, certain that his weekly shopping day had just changed, and believing that this must be a little like what an animal felt like fleeing from a predator.
The truth was simple. He missed Stephanie. Charley was a gorgeous girl, where Stephanie was a beautiful woman. There were so many differences between them in terms of experience and intellect, there really wasn’t a contest.
But Charley was here, and Stephanie still wasn’t.
Men just shouldn’t see their female colleagues in bikinis.
His cell rang at exactly the right time. “Hey Steph.”
“How’re you?”
“Missing you.”
“Can you hold out until the end of the week?”
Harry let out a sigh. “It’ll be tough.”
Her voice was husky. “I miss you that way too, you know.”
“You do, huh?” Harry laughed.
He could see her nod over the phone. “Want me to pack anything sexy?”
“How about your swimsuit? We could hit the beach. It’s supposed to be nice and warm.”
“Sure. Nothing. . . else?”
“I’d just take it off,” Harry laughed.
*****
Wednesday, May 17 2006
Sleepy Oak Apartments, Titusville, FL
There was a part of Harry that knew he was taking the cancellation of his project too hard. Sideways of the fact that it wasn’t really his field anyway, it was a fact of life that projects came and went under the best of conditions. The original safety analysis was double-redundant to 150 percent of the worst-case weight scenario.
Even NASA knew it was getting carried away in the name of safety by looking for another evaluation.
It was still a bummer, though.
As he looked up at the stars and enjoyed the warm, bubbling water of the hot tub, he recognized the fact that he really just missed Stephanie. . .
“Harry?”
He started at the voice – he hadn’t heard footsteps or the safety gate creaking open. He’d definitely been lost in his own world.
“Hi Charley,” he said without looking.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“I ain’t really here anyway.” He didn’t even look her way until he heard water lapping around her legs as she made her way down the steps.
“It’s hot!” Her black one-piece was obviously backless, cut high and snug in all the right places. With her hair up, she was all long legs and graceful neck, and she was smiling down at him, framed in the light of the full moon behind her. There was a not-very primal part of him that stirred instantly at the sight of her. She was truly beautiful, and he knew she wasn’t seeing his wedding ring.
“I’m going to leave you to it. I should be in bed already.”
She took his hand as he walked by. “Don’t go be lonely all alone. Stay here and be not lonely with me.”
He smiled at her. Warmly, he hoped. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “I’m old, and it is hot. Too hot for me. Can’t risk a heart attack.”
“You’re sure?” She asked with just a hint of a pout.
He nodded and slowly pulled his hand back. “Have a good night, Charley.”
*****
Wednesday, May 18 2006
Kennedy Space Center Headquarters Bldg., Merritt Island, FL
“Harry, can I see you for a minute?” Phil Connor asked.
“Sure.” He rolled back from his desk and followed his boss into his office.
“Close the door please, Harry.”
That’s never good. Harry Thought.
“Harry, I want to apologize to you for how that safety project business came down. I know you feel like you wasted your time, but sometimes, that’s just how this place operates. We have to pursue some things until we’re sure there’s no point in pursuing it, even if it does seem a little pointless at the outset.”
“I’m here to do as I’m told, sir.”
Phil smiled. “How’s Charley doing?”
“She seems very capable.”
“You two getting along together okay?"
“Fine, sir. She’s a little young and I’m a little old, but we’re figuring it out.”
Phil nodded. “The generation gap seems to come more quickly than it used to. She’ll be going back to school too, but I’d like her to stay on under your wing, Harry. I think it would be good for both of you. We’ll keep her on part-time under the same stricture as her internship.”
“That’s fine, sir. We’ll work it out, but I don’t have any projects pending.”
“As you know, part of the response to shuttle loss has been to stage a second mission on the pad as a rescue bird any time we’re flying. I’d like you to audit the plans, with particular emphasis on trajectory to orbit. I’d like to see if there’s a better plan to get to orbit in a hurry, emphasizing speed over mission longevity. We’d have fuel to use in those circumstances, so let’s make sure we’re meeting that mission goal as quickly as possible.”
“I can do that, sir,” Harry said as a smile tugged at his lips.
“I figured so. I’ll let you get to it, Harry,” Phil said as he rose to shake Harry’s hand before he sent him on his way.
*****
Saturday, May 20 2006
Sleepy Oak Apartments, Titusville, FL
Stephanie’s dress was just the right amount of Florida. Dark blue fabric for evening, but form fitting up top with a flouncy skirt, she looked like a million bucks. Harry wanted to believe it was a post-sex glow, but in reality, it was just her natural demeanor that made him feel so alive with her on his arm.
“Hi Harry. Who’s this?” Charley asked as they passed each other on the sidewalk near the parking lot.
“Charley, this is my wife, Stephanie. Steph, this is Charley, an intern I’ve been working with.”
The women shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Emphasizing their dinner reservation, Harry pulled his wife away just short of abruptly.
Charley was undaunted. “I’ll see you Monday after class, Harry.”
He tried to hide his discomfort behind a smile. “Have a good weekend, Charley.”
“She makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t she?” Stephanie smiled knowingly.
“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Very.”
“It’s okay that you think she’s pretty.”
“I think you’re pretty, too, Steph.”
“Nice save, Harry.” She took a sip of wine. “How many passes did she make?"
Harry chuckled uncomfortably. “More than a few.”
“And you didn’t—”
“Stop missing you? Not one single time.”
“You’re a weird dude, Harry Parson.”
“You married me, Stephanie.”
She smiled into her wineglass. “So, are we doing this? Staying in Florida?”
“You good with it?” Harry asked.
“We’re going to have to learn how to buck a hurricane instead of fly season."
“There’s always going to be something.” Harry shrugged. “That’s a hell of a dress, Steph.”
“Want to go home and take it off me?”
“Yes,” Harry smiled. “But I want to take you dancing first.”
“You can’t dance, Harry.”
“No, but I can hold you while you do.”
