Pegasus In Space

Chief kept his opinion of special instructions he didn't know about to himself, though he examined the additions carefully. There were some odd things about that kid. Was it wishful thinking on the admiral's part that Reidinger would pass without a hitch? Or did the admiral know something about the kid that he didn't already know from scuttlebutt?

Instruction nearly came to a halt on the day when the chief considered Reidinger was ready to put on his space suit for the first time. He had already drilled the kid on the special tongue-switches and pressure points in the headpiece. "Minute your helmet's locked in place, you gotta have air and it's smart to have your comunit operating, too. You got that?"

"I got it, Chief."

"Now, Reidinger, you start with the pants of a space suit, like this," and Silversmith stepped into his pants, one leg at a time, and demonstrated the private connections. The kid looked squeamish. Well, if he wanted to get into space, he'd better get used to it. When Silversmith had the pants on, he sat down. Activating the automatics, he held his arms above his head as the upper part of his suit lowered slowly, enclosed his arms, and enveloped his torso until it settled on his shoulders, leaving his head free. There had been many changes in space suit manufacture since the Russian Yuri Gagarin was launched above the Earth. If they were now less cumbersome they were still awkward to put on. Even if a man could get suited up by himself these days.

Reidinger gave the most imperceptible shake of his head.

"What's the matter, Reidinger? It's simple enough. Step in, plug yourself up to the sanitary stuff, sit, then activate this button," and the chief touched the control again.

"I can't do it that way, Chief."

"Whaddya mean, you can't do it this way? Only way you can…" The chief stared, shook his head, because the kid was somehow in the pants with the top coming down over him and the chief knew no one could get into a space suit that fast.

"You gotta attach the evacuation tubes," he said.

"I did." The kid's face fired up.

"I didn't see you," the chief said bluntly.

"I did. I just have to do it differently."

"I'll just check you out on that," the chief said, separating his words angrily. Giving a practiced heave to his feet, he strode over to Reidinger who got to his feet, oddly more graceful than most their first time in a suit. The chief lifted the kid's right arm to see the readout on the belt. "How'd you do that?"

"But I did, didn't I?"

"How'd you do that?" the chief repeated.

"I'm a kinetic." Reidinger offered that as a complete explanation. That did nothing to mollify the chief's growing annoyance. "I don't move the way you do." With that, the helmet lifted from its rack and settled over the kid's head. Without assistance, it locked into place. "Like this." His voice was muffled.

The chief stared at his suited pupil. Automatically he grabbed the kid's shoulder and twisted him to inspect the suit lights. If the kid suffocated himself, who'd they blame? Air was flowing and the comunit light was green. The chief snapped his mouth shut on a desire to snarl at the kid. He got control of his temper.

"All right then, let's run through the purpose of all those fancy switches so I know you know why you're pressing what."

The chief's tone bordered on the sarcastic. He swallowed his disappointment when Reidinger ran through the additions, naming each one correctly. Of course, neither wore jetpacks for this session. If, and the chief paused lovingly after the conjunction, if the kid got any further in his EVA training and ever needed to use a suit's jetpack.

"All right, Mister Reidinger!" The chief placed his helmet on his head and locked it into the safety position with a jerk that almost put him off balance. He backed up to Reidinger. "You check my EMU lights now."

"All green, Chief."

"Right, Reidinger." The chief moved with accustomed ease from the ready room to the airlock. He almost wished that the safety net was not in place outside. That the kid would freak out when he saw nothing between him and anything else beyond the airlock. He hadn'tplaced a bet since that went against his scruples. Now he wished he'd had Chief Turnbull place an anonymous one with Kibon. Winning would do much to absorb his growing irritation. Then there was his suspicion that the kid had somehow faked the sanitary connections. It'd be his own fault if he messed himself.

The chief punched his glove at the wide pad that closed the inner hatch. He waited until it had cycled from green to red. He walked to the outer one, and his peevishness increased when he saw how smoothly Reidinger moved in the EMU, like he was still gliding. Chief tried to damp down his reaction but this skinny kid in a custom made suit that must have cost the Station critical credits was getting on his wick.