Fluency by Jennifer Foehner Wells Page A

like an idiot, and headed for the door. “So, why haven’t you seen the capsule yet?”
    She raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want it to be a factor in my decision-making process. They’ve given me all the tests over the last few weeks, like you, I suppose. I must have passed. They seem to think I’ll be able to handle it, so now I’m ready to see it, I guess.”
    He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Well, then. This should be good.”
    All the big wigs were waiting in the hall. He greeted them co rdially and they walked together to the construction bays. The others stood aside, congratulating themselves, while he gestured at the capsule and explained a few technical things to her.
    He didn’t notice anything amiss, at first. She just followed along as he walked the perimeter, showing her the four rocket-booster shells that were about to be mounted. Then he opened it up and she climbed the short service ladder to peek inside. She sat down suddenly on the ladder.
    His eyebrows drew together. “Don’t you want to go inside?”
    “I—” she plucked at imaginary fuzz on her khaki pants. “Dr. Bergen….” She trailed off.
    He shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily as he watched her struggle, then took a step to stand between her and the men chatting nearby, barely aware of her now.
    She lost her composure completely. She glanced over his shoulder. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
    She spoke just above a choking whisper, “They told me this was the most advanced…they said no expense had been spared…the best and the brightest—oh my God, this isn’t a scale model, is it? This is it? It’s…this small? It’s not going to be any bigger than this for six people, for ten months, one-way? We’ll all be…inside there?”
    It hit him, then—how weird it must seem to someone outside the space program. Every candidate for this mission would gladly give up a leg to be one of the five going up in this capsule—but they all understood the logistics, the mechanics behind why it had to be this way. For her, it would be a shock. Of course it would. He couldn’t take offense at that, could he?
    Her eyes didn’t leave his face while he considered what to say.
    “Yes, Doc. This is it,” he said gently.
    She bobbed her head once and a tear fled down her cheek. She dashed it away, murmuring to herself so soft he barely heard it, and stood up. She laughed. It was forced, but she was actively re-taking command of herself. “I have a bathroom that’s bigger than this thing,” she said in a thick, pinched voice.
    He grinned at her. “Sure. But can your bathroom manage twe nty-five-thousand miles per hour?”
    She smiled and it lit up her face with such warmth. She stepped down and stuck out her hand. He returned the gesture.
    She squeezed his hand and covered it with her other one. It was a simple action, but such a full moment. “I think I can always count on you to give it to me straight, Dr. Bergen.”
    She saw him. She got him.
    That was it. That was when it really started. If he hadn’t a lready been falling for her, that would have done it.
    There were flashes going off, but he was barely aware of them as he stood there, absorbing that amazing smile. He wouldn’t rea lize why the photos were taken until the next day when he got the news.
    The average taxpayer would never see any of these photos. As far as the public was concerned, this would be the first five-man mission to Mars. Dr. Jane Holloway would be on an extended sa bbatical in remote Tibet.
    Nevertheless, it was an historic moment and would be doc umented for the classified NASA archives. One of the engineers that had designed the capsule bound for the Target, who was also selected for the team to man it, was showing it off to the newly recruited linguist-cum-astronaut for the mission.
    A copy of one of those photographs was one of the few perso nal items he’d been permitted to bring. It was tucked inside a