Blast Off! by Nate Ball Page B

“Hey, nice hat.”
    â€œIt’s a helmet,” Amp said, offended.
    Olivia slapped her thigh. “Well? Can you throw us a bone here, spaceman, before your people show up and start shooting up the place?”
    â€œOh, that would not be good,” Amp said distractedly. He seemed to remember something, and started tapping again on his calculator.
    â€œWhat’s his problem? There’s no time for math,” Olivia said, turning back to me. “If we could just pump air inside this thing . . .”
    â€œWait as second!” I shouted. “That’s it. A pump! My bike pump! I have a needle thing I use to pump up my basketball.”
    â€œThat could work,” Olivia said. “Go get it, dude! We’re at T minus thirty and counting.”
    In less than a minute, I was pumping air into that bottle like a madman. The bike pump’s needle just cleared the end of the stopper inside the bottle. At first, the stopper popped off before much air got it, so I removed the needle and pushed the stopper in as hard as I could. Then I pushed the needle back in and we took turns pumping.

    Air bubbles rose up through the soda and the bottle became hard as steel.
    We set the bottle on the outdoor wooden table. I slowly pulled the needle out, but once it cleared the stopper nothing happened. “I thought something would come out of the hole,” I said.
    â€œLet me pull the stopper out,” Olivia said.
    â€œWait!” I shouted, but it was too late. Olivia was blasted with fizzing soda and the bottle shot across the table right at my stomach. I barely managed to jerk out of its way.
    It flew several feet in the air then skidded across the cement. It hit a big planter with a small lemon tree in it and spun around wildly several times, making a loud pshhhhhht sound, spraying soda everywhere.
    It had only lasted a few seconds, but Olivia and I jumped around like we had just won a million dollars in the lottery. We both gave Amp a high five—or a high three in his case.
    Soon, we settled down and stared at the now resting bottle.
    â€œGreat, but now we’re out of soda,” Olivia said.
    â€œNo worries. We just need some quick adjustments,” I said. I filled the bottle all the way up with water from the hose.
    â€œReally?” Olivia said.
    â€œYou two do know what you’re doing, right?” Amp asked. “Remember that I am the one who’ll be blasting off.”
    â€œOf course,” I said. “It’s all about the air pressure,” I added confidently, pumping air into the bottle I’d filled almost completely with water. The pressure rose till the stopper finally popped out, and that one barely made it off the edge of table.
    â€œWonderful,” Amp sighed.
    â€œAll part of the process,” I smiled, knowing full well that science was all about trial and error. “I guess that one was way too heavy to launch.”

    I filled the bottle halfway with water. Then I pumped while Olivia held the sides, pointing the rocket straight up from the table. That was much better, going almost ten feet into the air, but it still lacked the oomph we needed.
    â€œI have an idea,” Olivia said. She filled the bottle with just a cup of water and did all the pumping while I did the holding, leaning away so the bottle wouldn’t hit me in the face. That one finally popped off on its own, but it was a dud.
    â€œOkay, one-third full must be just right, Goldilocks,” I said, “like the first time in the lab.”
    â€œOkay, Baby Bear, but we still have a few more tweaks to make. And we better hurry, because it must be at least four fifteen by now.”
    â€œTime waits for no alien,” I declared.

18
    Launch
    â€œT hese should help shoot the rocket straight up and let us launch from a safer distance,” Olivia said, pounding a fourth wooden stake into the grass with a croquet mallet.
    We had agreed that in order for