Peanut Sky Diving

Sky High: Visions Of Affordable Spaceflight

"Ignition."

A ragged sequence of bumps and bangs signaled rocket motor ignition. Linda was bounced and jostled in her snug seat. Maybe this tight packing case Jim and Norman had squeezed her into was a good idea. Then they had nailed the windowless cover on like a coffin lid. NO, don't think that! There is no point to sending a reporter on a one way trip. Space Capsules. That's what NASA always called them. I'm in a Space Capsule.

The noises became a sustained roar as the clustered motors began to work together, but the shuddering and bumps continued. The central part of the glowing display panel changed from -10 to -9.

...

An assignment! More than a week - all expenses. A feature article, about the Space Program. Linda had trouble believing that this outfit had something good for her. After several years of receiving only half a loaf she didn't expect much from the publisher. But it still rated as a break.

Her luggage was piled at the door before the call came. House sitting for two years! Sweet! No bills, and food money to boot. She could plunge into her writing and build the reputation - and contacts - that a professional needed.

The plan was working, but more slowly than expected. She built up contacts from her part time days, and made new ones. But all too often prospects involved next month, next quarter, next year. Then the couple called with a change of plans. Transferred home a year early. Two weeks notice had dwindled to eighteen hours. Linda was now officially homeless but she had no intention of intruding on her benefactor's homecoming. Before this call from the publisher she hadn't known what she was going to tell the cab driver.

...

The throaty roar and shuddering were building up. Linda could picture flame streaming from the end of the tubular sections. Long ugly yellow things, lashed together like a bundle of Dynamite sticks. Unfinished, with black notes jotted on them. And just big enough, when all lashed together, to prop up this tiny capsule.

The display changed from -6 to -5.

...

The cab had taken her to the airport. She smiled a lot and talked them into ignoring her excess baggage. The fact that it was a half empty red eye helped. Linda was mentally drafting "My Life as a Bag Lady." when a final cab delivered her, and her load, to the publisher's offices. She didn't talk to an editor, but to the legal eagle.

Free agent. No obligation. No liability. Prepaid expenses were considered an advance against payment for an acceptable article. Yes, certainly, necessary and appropriate expenses would be added to the publication's normal payment. Should she be invited to participate in any portion of Astronaut training, she could do so at her own discretion and of her own free will, with no liability construed to fall on the publisher.

Linda confirmed that she had spent a weekend skydiving. She was a certified SCUBA diver. She had made it up Mt. Rainier with a group. But the focus had been on pages of forms that spelled out NO LIABILITY in many different ways. All signed, witnessed and Notarized. The 'Next of kin' question surprised her, but she settled on her sister as the one who would get her excess baggage when and if... She was repeatedly promised that her questions would be answered after the formalities had been taken care of. Yet at the end of the day she found herself headed back to the airport with no answers except the confirmation of an Internet bargain flight in her hand. This publisher loved discount red eye flights. But Houston? Linda had expected Florida.

...

The roar and shaking seemed to double in strength every second.
Nothing could contain it - an explosion was inevitable.

By Richard Speck -

gregory the peanut goes sky diving

30 Aug 2011 at 3:25pm

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