she put the suits back together. They’d all been through a tough bit of abuse on this run and they needed some love to get them back to where they should be. She looked forward to Vanessa’s report on them, hoping none were on the verge of failing.
Suits. It was only two months since her son had washed out of crew training in the space program. They started young, during college, before they’d even finished developing. Their brains and bodies still growing and forming. He hadn’t been able to complete his walk on the surface that every young spacer does as a part of suit acclimatization. The psychologist said it was agoraphobia. He never even made it off the ground.
Francine had tried to talk to him about it. Tried to get him to tell her what happened but he just shook his head. They’d had a fight when she pressed him on it, Greg storming out of the apartment on one of his sullen walks. She just wanted to understand what went wrong. She wanted him to know that it was ok and that she knew it was scary and that was alright.
Mars surface on the Tharsis plains was probably a scarier place than out here, deep in the asteroid belt. At least in space, you’re not getting covered in micro-silicates that can eat through your seals if you stay out too long. She grimaced at the thought of it. Who was she kidding? There was nothing safe about wearing a space suit.
She didn’t think he was ready for space and that was a hard thing to admit. It could be tough out here and you needed a stable mind to do it. When things went wrong, you had to be steady. Even. She thought about her crew and their coping mechanisms. Winston spent a lot of time in his bunk, listening to old music and watching movies. Reggie, well, he took out his frustrations on the rest of the crew.
It could be worse. There were plenty of things Greg could do with that brain of his. Whether as support or logistics for the ships or some other job within the city, there were lots of options. She was really proud of her son. It made her ache when she thought of him. He was the most important thing she’d ever done and she had to spend her time up here in the belt, away from him and his life.
She sighed dealt three and flipped over an ace.
009
New Providence.
Greg was skipping his engineering class and feeling guilty about it. He’d been skipping a bunch of classes this term and wanted to see how far his teachers would let things slide. He didn’t care. It’s not like he was going to pass. He’d been ignoring the messages from his advisor asking for a meeting.
He’d been ignoring pretty much everything.
Part of him wanted to see how far he could slip through the system and where that would take him. He knew students in other sections of the school sometimes got recruited for work duty, but that never happened in the space program. They got all the good stuff, and the other students hated them for it. The word was getting around about his flunked test and some of the students were starting to sniff around wondering if a spot had opened up on the roster. They could smell blood.
Some ambient electronica generated from some old space recordings run through a pattern matching algorithm to produce backing beats and pads was pumping on the sound system. The floor was almost covered with discarded ration packs.
They might have a mouse.
The crazy thing was he wanted to talk to someone about it. About his suit test. But anytime someone else brought it up it just made him angry. He didn’t even know why, but he felt it. Just thinking about it now gave him a feeling of dread, tensed his shoulder muscles.
When those doors opened and the Martian wind blew sand and dust into the hangar, he just shut down. He never even made it outside.
Put it away. Read some of the news feeds. Mars Orbital was suspending shuttle transits pending some glitches in the station. Not that he’d be going up any time soon. One of the tunnelling operations north of Ascraeus Mons hit
Suits. It was only two months since her son had washed out of crew training in the space program. They started young, during college, before they’d even finished developing. Their brains and bodies still growing and forming. He hadn’t been able to complete his walk on the surface that every young spacer does as a part of suit acclimatization. The psychologist said it was agoraphobia. He never even made it off the ground.
Francine had tried to talk to him about it. Tried to get him to tell her what happened but he just shook his head. They’d had a fight when she pressed him on it, Greg storming out of the apartment on one of his sullen walks. She just wanted to understand what went wrong. She wanted him to know that it was ok and that she knew it was scary and that was alright.
Mars surface on the Tharsis plains was probably a scarier place than out here, deep in the asteroid belt. At least in space, you’re not getting covered in micro-silicates that can eat through your seals if you stay out too long. She grimaced at the thought of it. Who was she kidding? There was nothing safe about wearing a space suit.
She didn’t think he was ready for space and that was a hard thing to admit. It could be tough out here and you needed a stable mind to do it. When things went wrong, you had to be steady. Even. She thought about her crew and their coping mechanisms. Winston spent a lot of time in his bunk, listening to old music and watching movies. Reggie, well, he took out his frustrations on the rest of the crew.
It could be worse. There were plenty of things Greg could do with that brain of his. Whether as support or logistics for the ships or some other job within the city, there were lots of options. She was really proud of her son. It made her ache when she thought of him. He was the most important thing she’d ever done and she had to spend her time up here in the belt, away from him and his life.
She sighed dealt three and flipped over an ace.
009
New Providence.
Greg was skipping his engineering class and feeling guilty about it. He’d been skipping a bunch of classes this term and wanted to see how far his teachers would let things slide. He didn’t care. It’s not like he was going to pass. He’d been ignoring the messages from his advisor asking for a meeting.
He’d been ignoring pretty much everything.
Part of him wanted to see how far he could slip through the system and where that would take him. He knew students in other sections of the school sometimes got recruited for work duty, but that never happened in the space program. They got all the good stuff, and the other students hated them for it. The word was getting around about his flunked test and some of the students were starting to sniff around wondering if a spot had opened up on the roster. They could smell blood.
Some ambient electronica generated from some old space recordings run through a pattern matching algorithm to produce backing beats and pads was pumping on the sound system. The floor was almost covered with discarded ration packs.
They might have a mouse.
The crazy thing was he wanted to talk to someone about it. About his suit test. But anytime someone else brought it up it just made him angry. He didn’t even know why, but he felt it. Just thinking about it now gave him a feeling of dread, tensed his shoulder muscles.
When those doors opened and the Martian wind blew sand and dust into the hangar, he just shut down. He never even made it outside.
Put it away. Read some of the news feeds. Mars Orbital was suspending shuttle transits pending some glitches in the station. Not that he’d be going up any time soon. One of the tunnelling operations north of Ascraeus Mons hit
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