Space in His Heart

  “He sounds like fun.”

  “Right. So does parachuting until you pull the string and nothing happens.”

  Jo sighed. “Well, I guess you’re right to be careful with the R&C rules. The air stinks around Carla and I think she’d love nothing more than to see you crash and burn. Even though she acts like a big cheerleader for you.”

  “What about Tony Palermo?”

  “What about him? He adores her.”

  “I know how good that can be.” Jessica remembered the many times the agency president had called from his corner office at the New York headquarters to tell her she’d been singled out for another promotion or a great new client.

  She would not give Carla ammunition against her. Deke Stockard wasn’t worth abandoning her dreams of success.

  “Jo, I just have to get the job done here and get home. No matter how appetizing the astronaut might be.”

  “Darlin’, you’ve yet to meet a man you thought was more exciting than your job.” Jo laughed softly. “So be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As soon as he figures that out, he’ll be so turned on by you, you won’t stand a chance against Captain America.”

  Chapter Nine

  Colonel Price leaned back in his plush leather chair and listened to Deke lay out an airtight argument why, after subjecting himself to media training, a photo session, and two interviews, he should be allowed to drop the PR assignment.

  The Colonel nodded but it didn’t fool Deke. His arguments were falling on deaf ears.

  “It seems we really need you in several places at once, Commander. Wouldn’t you rather do an interview with Jay Leno than struggle with Skip Bowker over inspections? He’s got legions of engineers there and they’re right on schedule with mission prep.”

  Deke called on every ounce of military training not to react, but he felt his jaw tighten. The Tonight Show? Two months from the launch?

  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 com
e 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.”

  She clicked out of email and switched the phone to her other ear. “I’ll be up at Christmas to meet with the client, so do me a favor and send it. I’ll want plenty of time to review the program in advance.” Don’t cut me out, sister.

  “You won’t need to see the client, Jess,” Carla said, far too smoothly. “By then your new position will be announced and Dash won’t be on your account list anymore.”

  A slow burn warmed Jessica’s stomach. “What new position?”

  Carla was silent. Ominously so. “Uh, didn’t Tony tell you yet?”

  The hair on the back of Jessica’s neck tickled with a gust of the political winds Jo had warned her about. “Tell me what?”

  “We
ll, when you get back—unless you’ve fallen in love with Florida and decide to stay—”

  “No. I’ll be back at the scheduled time, after the shuttle goes up on February thirteenth.”

  “You’ve been named the head of the new Emerging Technologies division.”

  Jessica squeezed her eyes shut and tried to make sense of the words.

  “Congratulations,” Carla added.

  “What in God’s name is Emerging Technologies?”

  “The gold mine of accounts I used to run in Silicon Valley when I had my own agency. About five of them have committed to R&C as the foundation of our new high-tech division. Bill Dugan says you’ve become a technical whiz, so it’s a perfect place for your skills.”

  Anger and denial flooded through her. She was getting Carla’s cast-offs. A bunch of bankrupt dot-coms and start-ups with no budgets. She modulated her voice with practiced precision. Pick your battles. “I don’t think I’ll be taking that assignment, Carla.”

  Carla tsked into the phone. “No? I’m surprised. But, if you’d like me to talk to Tony for you, I will. Since you’re so far away.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll handle my own negotiating.” She had to get to Tony and make him understand. She had worked too hard to get strangled by the strings this conniving bitch had been pulling behind her back. “I have to go, Carla. I’m in the weeds with work today.”

  “Oh, sure, Jess,” Carla cooed. “I’ll be watching your astronaut on TV tonight. I saw the piece in People. Yum-my.” She lowered her voice and laughed. “I hope you’re getting a piece of that, honey.”

  The rush of blood walloped Jessica’s head. “Oh, Carla. You do have an active imagination.”

  “Come on, girlfriend. Give me the details.”

  Girlfriend? Revulsion rolled through her. “Sorry, no details. Gotta go.”

  She hung up just as Stuart came in her office, before she had a chance to compose herself.

  “Hey—you don’t look so good.”

  She swallowed hard and did her best to wipe the emotion from her face. “I’m fine.”