“Everyone charge their glasses, because today we lost one of our own.” Chad turned his head slowly. “Look around. The walls of this place are covered with our history, and our heroes. Some made it to space, some even walked on the Moon. And many died trying. Spaceflight is hard, and it demands our best. Sometimes, even that isn’t good enough. This morning we lost a friend, a test pilot, a husband and father, and a damned fine astronaut on his way to the Moon.”
JW caught Chad’s eye. He was still carrying Tom’s folder, and he pulled a glossy eight-by-ten NASA portrait out of it and passed it up to Chad.
Chad held the photo above his head for all to see, saying, “Let’s honor Tom Hoffman.” He climbed down from his perch and headed for the wall reserved for the astronauts who had died. He found a space and carefully fixed the picture in place, stealing a couple of thumbtacks from the other photos. He raised his glass to Tom’s portrait and said, quietly, “The Apollo 18 crew resolves that we will do our damnedest to make you proud.”
He turned back to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, we drink to a man gone too soon. So his loss will not be in vain, let’s also drink to my crew’s success on Apollo 18.” He paused. “To Tom Hoffman!”
The room erupted in a toast that echoed from person to person.
Chad was too far away to notice the small tics of reaction on the faces of his two crew at his use of the word “my.”
There was a moment of quiet, and to lighten the mood, Luke shouted, “Tom loved a good party, and now that he’s on the wall, he won’t miss this one. Drink up, everybody!”
The jukebox started back up, the pulsing keyboard of “Crocodile Rock” joining the rising voices of the crowd and the steady percussion of the rain on the roof.
Kaz spotted Laura through the smoke and crowd, grabbed his beer and made his way to her. She smiled when she saw him, and then caught herself. “I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend, Kaz.”
“Thanks,” he said. “It’s a terrible thing. Can I get you a drink?”
She held up her nearly full mug by way of answer.
He touched her mug with his. “To Tom.” They both drank.
“I never properly thanked you for taking me flying,” she said. “I know it’s normal for you, but it was a rare treat for me.” She looked around sheepishly at the scientists in her group. “I’ve been boring everyone with the details, until today that is.”
“You helped me remember my own joy in it.”
“I’m glad,” she said. She stared at her beer for a moment, then met his eye. “Do you think Tom’s death will delay the mission?”
Kaz realized that most of the people in the room must be wondering the same thing. “No—we’re going to get the crew trained with their new commander in time.” He glanced towards the crew’s table, where Chad was now sitting alone, staring at the wall where he’d just stuck up Tom’s photo. Kaz realized that it was the first time he’d ever seen Chad lost in thought.
I don’t blame him. It must really be sinking in.
He looked around for Luke and Michael, and found them at the center of a group of veteran astronauts, all drinking with purpose.
Laura frowned. “How do you do that?”
Kaz looked at her, puzzled. “Do what?”
“Recover so fast. Even in the Lunar Lab we’ve been zombies all day. It’s why we came here tonight, in fact.”
Kaz looked away. “It’s hard for everyone,” he said. He looked squarely back at Laura. “The speeches have been made, and you don’t really want that beer. How about we leave?”
She glanced at her friends, then nodded. Kaz asked, “You have your Bug here?”
“Yes. Top’s up, fortunately.”
“Meet you at my place?”
Laura looked at him for a couple of seconds, then said, “Sure, why not?”
Both of them got drenched running from their cars into the house, and they sat on the couch with towels around their shoulders. Kaz opened a Chianti, rich and warm against the damp.
Laura took a sip, and sighed. Then asked, “So what’s the answer to my question?”
Kaz had been thinking about it. “Truth is, we get used to the idea somehow.” He looked out at the wet night, rain pouring down the window. “When my first good friend died on squadron, I couldn’t accept it. He was a better pilot than I was, superb hands and feet, and more experienced. But on that one flight he came straight down out of low cloud at high speed and hit the water. There was nothing left.”