Chapter 15 - Mission

   Once they got there, it was honestly like any other giant airport. With one exception, and that being this thing was huge in scale and scope. It was a big commercial enterprise, that had required both huge private investment capital as well as government grants and funding. The military, NASA, everyone pitched in oversight and expertise to get it going.

   The basic plan was straightforward. Private investors wanted to commercialize a space station. They envisioned a big resort in the sky. It would be the only one of its kind for quite some time, and you can charge the rich and elite? Anything to go to the most exclusive resort in the world. Actually, off this world. You got to see space. Experience low and zero gravity. Go for rides on orbital shuttles. See what previously only astronauts had enjoyed. A view of the stars without atmosphere ruining the clarity. A view of the moon, bigger and clearer.

   And, that earth from space view. A huge, blue, gorgeous blue marble. The pretty white clouds. Yeah, the rich elite that could pay king's ransoms to get to experience this? Gave up a king's ransom for a stay here. The accommodations for them? You lived like royalty while you were here. No expense had been spared in that regard. And, like any exclusive resort? Employees.

   Once you have a certain high number of employees, spread out over enough ground and in this case even sky? It eventually becomes like trying to track ants, really. Fortunately, the ants are grouped and more or less do their things. They follow each other in trains of ants, coming and going and doing. A large town or a small city had sprung up around this enterprise. Smaller companies associated with the big thing they were drawn towards. It drew tourists and visitors and the curious. More smaller businesses spring up to take advantage and encourage more of it.

   It was public to get to the town around the biggest airport in the world. It was private to get onto the airport grounds itself, and they were vast. It was joked that the infamous "area 51" was a mere backyard as compared to this. And if you want a gigantic airport, with room to expand any time you got the itch as you wanted or needed? If you're smart, you pick a big, flat area. Hey, the mid-west is perfect. The airport and the town that had sprung up around it, was its own zip code.

   The open and flat area, was optimum for the airport itself. But for security concerns? It was the exact opposite. Uncountable lines of fences. Security guards were practically a small private military operation of their own. You can't walk rounds here, you drive or fly.

   You just have to get inside, though. And with one of the biggest name pilots driving his car, coming in for his routine flight schedule? Really easy. They pulled up at the security gate, one of many. The guards on this shift, knew the car, the face driving it.

   "Benny. Fancy meeting you here."

   "Hey, Bob. How's the night going."

   "What. People coming in, people going out. Less people after dark. Its a living."

   "Yeah. Another day, another supply flight."

   "Passenger?"

   "Oh. This is Joe. He's my guest. VIP. Teaches at a university, close to getting doctor tacked onto his name."

   "No problem. Here. Sign him in..."

   Another friendly smiling guard was at Joe's passenger window of Ben's nice sports car. Ben had told him to go with both drivers license, and the university ID. They were well used to academics coming and going, this was a big technology enterprise and lots of R&D going on. Another professor, doctor, or almost doctor? Beyond routine and down into the mundane minutiae of everyday. The guard copied the IDs, and took a picture of Joe. Ben signing his guest on for a personal tour, made it compulsory. A visitor's badge with picture was on him in no time flat.

   Ben smiled and waved, after some small talk and drove off towards one of the giant hangars.

   "Told you how easy that would be. You act like everyone and their uncle and grandma don't go in and out of a place this big. And you gotta be nice to all the public. Rich people? Like to be treated swell. Tourists on tour, that can't afford the resort up there? Those tours make as much money as the resort itself, they say. Gotta be nice to them tourists, too."

   "See? If anyone tried anything, they know who you are. But in our case? Ain't a concern for our mission."

   "Yeah. I knew this place was big, but Jesus..."

   The giant half circle hangar looming up ahead? Kept getting bigger as they approached it. The closer you got? The bigger you realized it was. Joe marveled at the size and scale of the hangar.

   "Wow. That? Is one big hangar."

   Ben chuckled.

   "Carp? I was waiting to tell you. Always fun for new visitors. That? Ain't a hangar. That... is like one of those little outbuildings, on the edge of the farm. You ain't seen the big barn yet. Just wait."

   It was indoor parking. Little courtesy carts to get around in, were simply lined up everywhere. When you parked them? They recharged batteries. Charging parking rails were all over. If yours went low? You just grabbed another. It was career jobs to simply buzz around collecting stranded carts and putting them onto a charging rail. Like the kid that collects the stray shopping carts across the store parking lot. One guy was dragging a train of them in, probably routine maintenance.

   You parked here, and took a little cart to get around in. There was a row of vending machines, small kiosks selling food and convenience items. A tiny diner with a counter and a few small booths. A small restaurant for a better meal. Ben led him to the diner counter at the one corner and introduced his buddy, Joe. Call him Carp. Bright guy, teaches at a university. Ben knew everyone, and everyone knew him. This was routine, they had planned on this.

   We're not hiding. Its a secret what we're going to do? But we want as many people as possible to know our names and that we were here. That way, the military and the boardroom of suits after it happens? Can't try to cover it up. Far too many people will have met Joe's VIP guest, the nice friendly professor. They would be armed with his easy to remember name, and even his nickname. There would be no covering it up, too many people would be able to spit out a name of who had gone with the well known pilot on his last flight. If they even attempted it? Investigative journalists would be combing the town, offering money and prizes to anyone who could toss them a tidbit.

   Human nature was an impossible enemy to fight. The media had its own army, and a story this big? They would be out in force. It would only take one low level employee to share the name, nickname, and what university the pleasant smiling professor had talked about. With everyone he met.

   When they eventually had left, Ben was still early for his flight. Ben drove the little charged up cart to another docking charging parking rail, and switched out for a fresh battery, and they went through the same routine. The giant white thing in the distance, grew in size as you got close. This time? It was even bigger and much more impressive. Ben was waiting on this, and enjoyed the wow it got out of Joe.

   "I know, Carp. There was a first time for me, too. I was even used to the big military hangars, and I was still impressed. Ready to be amazed again? This is one of the smaller hangars. The main ones? Are even bigger."

   "Wow."

   Joe found himself saying "wow" a lot. Ben's world was big. Big thing to have for a career. As a pilot, it was a big job to have in that career. And the buildings and grounds? Big was the only way to describe it. He had a fairly big house, and some nice toys and creature comforts. The only thing small about his life? His wife wasn't a big girl. About his age, she had kept herself fit and trim for her pilot husband. His kid? Really looked more or less like a young Ben. Hitting his teens, and starting to fill out. Ben really did have a big, beautiful wonderful life. It was perhaps all the more insidious that he had gotten such a horrible terminal condition, that would rob him and his beautiful wife and kid of it one day soon, no matter what he tried.

   After using showing up early for work to show Joe around in yet another of the ubiquitous service carts, it was time to hit the locker room. Pilots had their own locker room, naturally. Pilots always were special. Military, commercial... pilots always had their own everything.

   The other pilots joked with one another, it was male camaraderie. There were female pilots naturally, just not nearly as many of them, and they were in their own locker room. Joe got changed into his flight suit. One piece zip up affair. The cabins were armored and pressurized, there was no need for pressure suits and all that. From day one, the aim had been to make this all "normal" to regular people. One day to make it as routine as taking a commercial plane trip.

   "Hey, Ben. Who's your date."

   "Guys? Meet Joe. They call him Carp. Joseph Hall Carpenter. University professor, about to get a doctor on his name. I'm showing him around. He's going to be working around this stuff, doing research. Engineer doing calculations on paper? Should get to see what he's working on."

   The pilots were friendly, shook hands and all that normal interaction. And, its still a group of men in a locker room. Human nature, trumps all.

   "Hey. You like your blowjobs from university professors? I try not to judge, Ben."

   "Ha ha. I'm a married man."

   A catcall came from the next row of lockers behind them.

   "Hey! I'm a married man, too. Doesn't mean the occasional blowjob ain't a nice perk to the job, you know."

   The chuckling and mild laughter erupted and subsided. Ben raised his voice to carry over to the next locker row it had come from.

   "Let me rephrase then. Me? I'm happily married. Unlike you? My wife, will blow me."

   Everyone enjoys the raspberries show men give each other, and if you get a good one back in return, it ups the ante. When the commotion died down, Ben asked pretty much everyone, if Steve was on flight line security.

   "Yeah. You're good to take your boyfriend up."

   More chuckling. More mild apologies for teasing the VIP visitor inadvertently, by teasing Ben in front of him.

   Ben grabbed a work phone out of his locker, and took it with him as Joe followed.

   "Hey Carp?"

   "Yeah."

   "I'd say enjoy the show? But... I already know you will. Enjoy your first time."

   "I heard its pretty."

   "Pretty? No. We used to call it the greatest show on earth, getting up there to see it like that. Then we realized. It is the greatest show, just the greatest show is the one that's not on earth. Enjoy your first time."

   More whispered chuckles. Blowjob jokes, because most pilots used taking a girl up to impress her to make dating super easy as a perk. Joe finally got the last joke. First time. He laughed over his shoulder.

   "First time. I got it. Good one, guys. Nice meeting you..."

   The pilot yelled out as they were retreating to go.

   "Ah. Ben? Bring him to the pilot's lounge when you come down. Can't let a VIP visitor eat with the great unwashed masses, you know."

   When they were getting ready to get in and get in line to get out and taxi for taking off, Ben went through his pre-flight checklist with a technician on hand that vouched for maintenance and inspection. He smiled at Joe, who was wearing another pilot's one piece zip up, a gift from an unlocked locker room. Ben had explained this was routine, its how it was done. Joe knew it, and watched it all work just like Ben had said.

   Steve the main guard, was smiling when he came over. Ben was smiling back. It was obvious they were sharing something outside the conversation.

   "Ben."

   "Steve."

   "Didn't know Chuck was taking co pilot rides to re-certify."

   "Aw, Steve, you can't expect every little scrap of paper to end up on your list. It happens. The universe? Is a big and imperfect thing."

   Steve chuckled. This was obviously a normal routine for a G-ride taking place.

   "No problem. Guy looks like he's in good shape. Hell, he looks as fit as the pilots."

   "Don't worry, Steve. Chalk up a ride on your account. If I don't scratch your back? One of the other boys will."

   Steve smiled. As long as he got his own G-ride in return for looking the other way that an off duty pilot was riding along to re-certify off the books? His life was good.

   Ben leaned in and spoke low.

   "Steve?"

   "Yeah..."

   "Gossip?"

   "Sure. What's the skinny."

   "My ride. University research professor. You know I was military, before this."

   "Sure. You're Big Ben, the Ben-hog."

   Ben had flown a lot of combat support missions, in the Warthogs. It was his nickname from the service that carried over with him into his civilian pilot job. Ben-hog, was his chosen call sign everyone on the radio knew him by in flight. Joe already knew this. Ben had briefed him thoroughly in preparation for their mission. Ben had said that a private mission? Is still a mission, none the less.

   "I was contacted. For a favor to the military. Research professor. Mathematics and physics. From a big research university. Get the picture now? They asked me to squeak him up for an informal look at... you know what."

   Steve nodded, he got it.

   "Right, right. Not a problem. Chuck took a co-pilot ride, getting ready to re-certify."

   "Thanks. And don't tell anyone, Steve. The military doesn't want the public to panic, but... they take that thing very seriously. Just no one wants to spook the herd of sheep."

   "All good. Get checked out, and get up there."

   "Steve..."

   They shook hands.

   "Ben."

   Steve smiled and went back to his guard station. That, was another part of the plan. Drop hints, that it was a secret military thing. Now? Steve could be counted on, to have a great secret tidbit to share. Human nature again. If you don't want someone to tell? Easy. Just make it routine and don't mention it. You want to practically guarantee they'll whisper it to someone? Just as easy. Shh. Its a secret. Don't tell anyone.

   Because as Ben had briefed him on it? Steve was a guard who could be counted on routinely, to let G-rides happen. Steve, enjoyed getting a G-ride for letting a G-ride take place. Steve also? Had so many G-rides of his own that it was routine for him. People would pay anything to bribe their way into a G-ride. Nice sideline, to be able to sell his G-ride for cash or other favors he wanted to enjoy.

   And such a man? Could be counted upon. To get the most bang for the buck, with his secret. Reporters? Would be waving money around. Steve? Had secret insider gossip. Secret military mission, for a look see was what he heard. And right from the horse's mouth, too. He could pass a lie detector test on it, if it came to it.

   And, just like human nature was a given? The nature of the media had its own character and nature that could be well counted upon. Everybody and their uncle knew G-rides happened. It was an open secret. Everyone would quickly discover that Ben, the hero pilot that gave his life and somehow got rid of the scary anomaly in the sky? Had a G-ride with him. A research professor, from a huge and well respected research university.

   The hints of a secret military mission? The hero pilot that pulled this off, was a decorated former combat pilot? The story wrote itself. With no selfless hero to interview, the media would rush in a herd to the widow and kid. Flashing "hero pilot's wife" under her teary eyes. Everyone would know who she was. And if the insurance company tried to steal the huge life insurance policy Ben had for his wife and kid? There would be hell to pay.

   Why, Ben hadn't committed suicide. He had given up his life, knowing he had a terminal condition... and made his last bit of healthy life count. The story was too big, and too good not to run with and get all the mileage the media could wring out of it. Ben-hog, the hero pilot. His mysterious G-ride passenger. Some unknown research professor from a research university with him. They wouldn't know how, but those two had given their lives and somehow made the scary thing disappear.

   Experts were all over talk shows and interviews. It was a four dimensional object, and we can't make one. We didn't even know they could exist. It almost has to be alien advanced technology. And? On some secret military mission... the hero pilot, and the hero research professor... had somehow destroyed it.

   The military would wipe its brow and breathe a sigh of relief. The space station corporation? Would wipe its brow and breathe a sigh of relief. The public? Would wipe their brow and breathe a sigh of relief. If an alien invasion had been about to appear out of that thing and take over earth easily with their advanced technology? We were all safe now.

   But the time for planning and taking the easy guesses at what everyone would think, know, and therefore do afterwards? Ben's rule was paramount. Focus on one thing. The mission. Its easy, but you focus on it all the more.

   They taxied out to the runway, and waited in a queue. Other pilots from the locker room traded little in-jokes with "Ben-hog" on the radio, chattering before takeoff. Some said things like "tell Chuck I said hello". Joe realized, that simply everyone knew there was a G-ride taking place. It was obviously an open secret to the point of being a wink and a nod joke.

   Their turn finally came, and they lined up on the big, wide, flat runway the mid-west afforded the world's biggest yet airport. Ben went through pre-flight authorization.

   "Supply flight 37. Requesting tower permission for take off."

   "Thirty seven? Tower. Mild crosswinds, under 5 miles per hour. Conditions are great. Thirty-seven, go, go, go."

   "Supply 37. Say again."

   "Tower. 37 is go, go, go. Have a safe flight, Ben-hog."

   "Roger that, tower. Ignition..."

   The rumbling and apparent power was breathtaking. These were the biggest scram jet engines ever, and their was no mistaking there were multiples fired up and heating up quickly to operating temperature. Ben continued conversing on pre-flight with the tower through his warm up. A large metal gate was up and they were against it, preventing their movement prematurely.

   "Tower? 37 is almost up to op temp. 37 requesting gate drop."

   "37? Gate dropping, in 3... 2... 1... go, go, go."

   They began moving a little slower than Joe had expected, but speed gained gradually. Unlike being in a car approaching top speed though, this ride seemed to have almost no upper speed limit. The wide runway, with bright painted lines? Became a blur in no time.

   The breathtaking power? That had been nothing. As Ben continued to ease what was obviously the gang throttles forwards, it became all encompassing. The pressure pushing Joe into his seat was stifling. He was feeling G's like no sports car ride with an experienced driver could ever give him. This was what military pilots and astronauts alone had enjoyed up until now. Speed was just a measure of how fast you were traveling. Acceleration is a mathematical number representing how quickly that velocity is going up.

   "37. Approaching stall..."

   "37, you're looking good."

   They suddenly hit whatever speed the wing configuration needed to lift up and get going. They began to climb, and the baby elephant sitting on Joe began to take on weight steadily. Acceleration seemed limitless. It was like being a little kid, and your much older big brother played the game of sitting on you in the big overstuffed easy chair in the living room. Just the big brother was gaining weight by the second.

   "37? Climb to 200 for leveling."

   "37 here. Altitude 200 plus. Level."

   "37? If gauges look good, go scram at will. You look fine from here."

   "Tower? 37 here. Stability, good. Temperature, good. Going scram..."

   "Hey Joe. You enjoying the ride, buddy?"

   "Holy shit... you could sell tickets at the amusement park all day and night long, if this was the only ride you had... my god..."

   Ben laughed.

   "Joe? You ain't seen nothing yet..."

   Ben clicked on tower communications he had clicked off for private cabin talk, and was back on line with the tower control.

   "37. Going scram... in 3... 2... 1... engaging scram..."

   "37? Have a safe flight, see you when you get down from heaven..."

   Scram jets were essentially ordinary jet engines under it all... at first. These were the largest ever, and the back end was crammed with them, too. But what a scram jet does? When it gets up to operating temperature, then operating speed... there's no more jet control needed. It becomes actually, nothing more than a shaped open metal container that can take the heat. The jet fuel? Now simply dumps in. The air coming in is coming in so fast that as the air inlet narrows, the heat of the air goes up way beyond what's needed to ignite the jet fuel normally sprayed and ignited in.

   When you switch over from jet to scram? Its a whole new ballgame. The fuel? simply dumps, gets compressed and ignites under huge compression. The nozzle shape squeezes it out to generate the highest thrust possible.

   So. When Ben switched over to scram? Their slight upwards angle they had taken to climb, went positively ape-shit. The elephant on Joe's lap suddenly swelled to adult proportions. The older brother on him in his easy chair? Was morbidly obese. He couldn't shift in his seat already, and he was pressed back more firmly. Ben was used to this, Joe was enjoying his virgin experience.

   The gentle upwards angle they had been on? Became an easy climb. The wing configuration that had been ungainly at low flight speed, was now at lower operational speed. The clumsy cargo bus with wings? Suddenly became responsive and not at all ungainly.

   Ben was pushing another set of ganged throttles forwards now, and the scram system was slowly ramping up to its full potential. The game plan? Maximum velocity, use it and go as straight up as you can. As their top velocity leveled off, Ben reported achieving top speed, and that all was well. As things leveled off? High speed doesn't throw you back into the seat. Only acceleration does that. The elephant lost weight, and gradually disappeared.

   "And how was that."

   "Ben... holy shit..."

   Ben chuckled.

   "I know. I'm used to it, this is my job? Never gets old, baby, never gets old. I love this, I could do this forever."

   "Wow. I can't believe this is your job. People would pay to do this for a living every day."

   "I know. Great, isn't it."

   "I can see why you like it."

   "Like? This is love, Carp. True love."

   Ben had to switch back to tower.

   "Tower... 37 on initial climb."

   "37... you're looking good. 36 is reporting steady speed, as soon as you go 45, we're getting ready to release 38 behind you."

   "37... going 45..."

   "37? Report when you have 45 locked."

   In short order, they maintained 45 degrees up as a climb angle, and the computer could take over and make the automatic adjustments to maintain the optimum climb angle no human hands and eyes could ever hope to manage.

   "Tower? 37 has fly by wire engaged. 45, steady as a rock."

   "37? Enjoy a safe flight. Releasing 38. Report any speed losses if we need to adjust 38. 37, when you hit operating altitude, take a vector from station one. Tower? Over and out."

   After a while of maintaining the 45 degree climb, a new voice cut in. This one? Was a lot more informal, and had that mild sing song of an almost slightly musical quality to it. The voice of routine when things were going well.

   "37, 37. Station one tower."

   "37 here."

   "37, you're looking good. Getting ready to serve customer 36. 37? You're next in line..."

   "Station tower, 37... waiting on beacon vector."

   "37, as soon as we get 36 ready to park? We'll release beacon vector to 37. As always, confirm beacon vector and navigation lock. If you have any issues, let us know."

   "37 is all good. Waiting on beacon."

   "We're on a climb, Joe. The air? Is getting thinner. That's going to lower our speed. But, the gravity is lower up here, that helps make up for it. Station one is low gravity. The navigation beacon will shoot us a vector. We'll lock on that, and let the station know we got a lock on them. Then? I'll level up, and go in slow on rockets. We'll take a break while they're unloading and loading, and... get assigned an orbital shuttle, and you can see what dad does all day at work."

   "This? Is really fun, Ben."

   "Yeah. It is. Hey, whoever said, a mission can't be fun once in a while."

   "37? You're losing climb. Looking good. Start leveling out, and we'll issue you a beacon vector."

   "Station one? 37... beginning to level..."

   Joe felt his stomach do a little lurch as leveling out happened. It felt like when you're a kid in the car with dad, and dad goes fast down a hill to hit a bump and let you feel it, for fun.

   "Station one, the parking garage in the sky... 37? You should have your beacon vector. Confirm a lock, and park pretty when you get here."

   "37 has beacon vector lock. Going off manual."

   "Station one, will bring you in nice and gentle."

   They gave up navigation to automatic. The system could fire the rockets now, and as their speed wore off? Little rocket blasts would adjust course with very little rocket usage. It was cost effective to allow this to happen.

   Joe felt like a little kid, as the automatic system brought the cargo shuttle in and "parked" it, so to speak. One they were on the "ground", a big cart came out and hooked up and slowly towed them around.

   "That's the electric mule, we call it. Electric motor, geared down like a spit motor for all torque, no speed. They'll park us where they want us."

   "Hard to believe, they can move us so well."

   "Remember. We're low gravity now. Things are easier to lift, easier to drag and roll. When we get out? First timers like to jump and see how easy it is to jump high. Up here? You can jump higher than any pro basketball player, easy. But, enough gravity that things stay put, and you don't get zero G sick. Cherries tend to puke in zero G, first time. Your stomach is used to stuff sitting still, not floating around."

   "Wow. No wonder people love this."

   "They say? Low gravity sex is the thing. Of course, I never brought my wife up here, and tried that."

   Ben rolled his eyes and winked. He had obviously done it more than once. A perk for an orbital pilot's wife to make her girlfriends jealous. Another reason for the girls on the ground to scratch each other's eyes out for the chance to date a pilot next.

   Steve's counterpart up here on station one, greeted them as they got out and down and Joe got his taste of low gravity. Ben was used to it, and knew he could just jump down and land softer than on the earth's surface.

   "37. Flight went good?"

   "All good, Kurt."

   "I had you down for solo, Ben-hog. I see you're plus one."

   "Chuckles tagged along for a co-pilot run."

   Joe's zip up flight coveralls did say "Chuck" on his name badge sewn on, after all.

   "Fine. We have enough beer and hookers to go around. Chuck? Congratulations on losing the beard..."

   Ben and Kurt smiled, G-rides were as routine as stealing an extra piece of cake at a birthday party. No one really cared. Free PR, after all.

   They hit the pilot's lounge. Ben explained it would take a while to unload all the cargo off of their shuttle, and would eventually reload it for their return trip. Which was an irony that was not lost on Joe.

   The pilot's lounge was nice, as you would expect. Pilots in the military are all officers, and even in the civilian world, were treated like minor executives. Civilian officers, basically. The other pilots teased Joe, while calling him "Chuckles". Hey, you lost some weight. Looking good, Chuck. See you lost the beard, the wife got tired of you giving her thighs rug-burn, huh?

   Chuck was obviously a pilot that was a little heavier, and had a beard. No one cared. They all took G-rides now and then. Among themselves? They shared freely. Ben made sure the pilots all knew Joe's full name, his nickname, his university and that he was a research professor. The pilots in joke seemed to be they called it bring a kid to work day.

   Around the other pilots in the lounge, Joe noticed Ben's insignia's. He had more stuff on his uniform, more patches. After joshing with the other pilots, Ben explained what everything was. A patch for good safety record. His higher rank, from extra time here. One was that he was a trainer, he taught new pilots. Orbital certified patch, he could fly orbital shuttles not just the big cargo runs up and back. An orbital safety patch, for good record. A good conduct patch, for never having had a disciplinary incident on his record. A rescue patch, that was his ability to handle a pod and nudge it to safety where it could be grabbed easily. A rescue trainer patch, his uniform was just studded with patches.

   He said he had every patch he could get, for a while now. And the only patch he would miss out on? Retirement patch. When you left in good standing, you kept your flight uniforms, and you got your retired patch.

   Ben had achieved the top status he could, in his career.

   He smiled at Joe when they were out of earshot off in the corner of the lounge.

   "Yeah. I've had a good life. I honestly can't complain. Wife and kids. Great family life. Good pay and benefits. My job? Its a roller-coaster ride. Joe? Not bragging, but... for a little while there? I had a good run. I honestly thought I had it all."

   Joe smiled back.

   "You do have it all."

   "Do I?"

   "The hell you even missing out on. You did it all."

   Ben smiled and shook his head gently.

   "They do say. If you don't have your health? You don't have anything."

   Joe looked away politely.

   "Yeah."

   Ben went on, chuckling.

   "All the experts. What do they tell us? Don't smoke. Don't drink too much. Eat right. Exercise regularly. Don't get overweight. Look at me. I did all that, like a religion. Now look at me. Turns out it was all a bunch of bullshit. I could have smoked like a chimney, and it wouldn't have touched me one little bit. I'm barely over 40. I should have enjoyed the occasional slice of cheesecake."

   Joe couldn't say anything, so he said nothing. It was all rhetorical.

   "I hope they have beer and cheesecake where we're going, Carp."

   Joe finally could face him and look him in the eye on that one, with a grin.

   "I don't know, Ben. But you know what? We're going to find out. They gotta have something."

   As check out time came, Ben smiled and let Joe enjoy new timer fun with low gravity. Getting to pick up heavy objects, amazed at the extra apparent strength it gave him to be in low gravity this high up.

   Eventually though, it was time to go. Ben-hog had been assigned an orbital shuttle, and it was loaded for his first drop off to one of the other stations. Clothing run had been his shuttle run up, a routine cargo flight. Some new uniforms for other workers around the stations, some were back from laundry. The rich people in the resort sent their suits and dresses out for dry cleaning, and it was on the run as well. The uniforms were the first runs, and the rich people's dry cleaning was the final run.

   The rich people would have to make do without a few expensive suits and dresses, not a big deal considering what Ben was giving up. That was how Joe saw it.

   The other stations were higher up, some in really low gravity, and some in close to zero. All stations were in stable orbit. You can't send up stations this big, you make them on the ground and bring them up piece by piece and assemble them. Station one had been the original station, and was once like a big construction warehouse. Now, it was a warehouse and change over point. Supplies waited here to be shipped out or back down, and people were cargo as well sometimes.

   Workers unloaded and sometimes reloaded cargo to go back to Station one. Joe found waiting at the other stations to be even more fun. Higher up, they had varying degrees of more weightlessness. The jumping, the pretending to be a superhero picking up impossibly heavy objects. It really was fun. Ben said it was a pity he couldn't have lined up a very low gravity "space cherry popper" for him, but they didn't have hookers up here.

   Ben when no other shuttle was around? Had another surprise for Joe.

   "Joe. When you were little. Your dad ever put you in his lap in the car, in some big empty parking lot? You know, let you steer while he worked the gas and brakes."

   "Yeah. Sure."

   "All orbital shuttles have co pilot controls, you know. I shut them off. If I developed a control malfunction? I could turn yours on, and take that seat when I'm solo."

   He showed him the basics, and let him give the jets little bursts. You could spin around if you fired too long and morph a turn into a spin. He showed him how to fire straight a little burst, and let the momentum carry him. Little touches of jets to correct course, reverse jet burst to slow down, stop, or even back up.

   It really was just like dad letting you try out the steering wheel. Ben could flick a switch and take back over if need be. But if they were alone in the sky, it wasn't dangerous. It was a lot of fun. Joe found it ironic, that his first taste of this much excitement and now fun? Would be his last, one way or the other.

   Ben "bumped" a tower control wall, to tease them inside. He got chided, but it was a routine fun thing. Learn how to drive, Ben-hog. The orbital shuttle safety trainer? Should know better.

   The other pilots would gently "bump" each other, to have fun. It was very low gravity, it wasn't like a normal collision down on earth. The orbital shuttles were all somewhat rounded. It scared Joe, but as per usual, Ben chuckled and explained it.

   "These orbital crafts? Are all assembled in low gravity. Its a titanium framework, and special resins are vacuum cast with special titanium dust. Its called... "sintered resin", as a technology. Thick as hell, lighter than normal. Tough as anything. We're experimenting with a new station? Seeing how it goes to make a little station out of all sintered resin construction once the titanium framework is bolted together. Its all in zero gravity. See how it goes. That works out? This is all going to get even more routine."

   It went without saying, he would miss seeing it come to fruition. Seeing more and more regular people get to afford a legal G-ride, a stay at a resort that they could save up and afford. Zero gravity sex would be a huge attraction, once regular people could hope to afford it.

   Eventually though, it was time. Instead of heading for the rich people's no expense spared resort in the sky? They developed a radio communications problem. The main problem? Seemed to be Ben flicking it off. Against all regulations, he shut his transponder off. His craft would be perfectly visible on the traffic controller's screens, but would no longer show his craft number.

   Orbital cargo craft 88? Was anonymous now. He told Joe it was time. They were near enough to communications satellites, which were everywhere by this stage of the game? That phones worked great, even better than on the ground, really. Ben sent his prearranged messages to his wife and kid. Then? He called her and got her on the phone. He told her he loved her, and was thinking about her.

   She wanted to know if anything was wrong? He sounded funny. He smiled, chuckled. Told her everything was just fine. They exchanged I love you's, and he told her to make sure to tell his boy. That dad said I love you to him, too. Then? He ended his call. Joe's turn. He sent all his prearranged messages and videos out. He got Adelaide, his precious Ada on the phone, and went through basically the same routine as Ben had.

   "Honey? I have to go now. I want you to know? I didn't leave you, I didn't take a little Ada vacation. Will you promise me something?"

   "Anything, Carp. Just tell me where you are."

   "I promise you, Ada. You'll find out, soon enough. Do me a favor though."

   "Sure."

   "In your spare time? You remember when you told me, that you were the mysterious mathematics student, that worked up a few equations, to see if my ideas worked?"

   "Yeah, Joe."

   "Anytime you get bored, anytime you think of me. Just... go through a few more now and then. Take your mind off of things. It will go a long way towards my research proposal being taken seriously. I just know I'm right."

   "Joe? You're scaring me, honey. Where are you. What's going on."

   "Shh. I don't have much time now. I have to go. Ada? I love you. I'll always love you. Don't ever wonder about that."

   She assured him she loved him just as much, then he said goodbye.

   Their goodbye's and messages and manifestos sent? The cabin was quiet now, with the communications off. They were far enough away they couldn't be seen, except on radar. The warning beeps of the restricted airspace system had gotten so annoying, that Ben had shut the audio of that off as well.

   "You ready, Carp. It's time, right?"

   "It is. You saw the news feed, same as I did. The anomaly? Has gotten the biggest it ever has, just as I predicted. Do it."

   Ben flicked his transponder back on, then turned on communications.

   Frantic voices on the radio now.

   "88! 88! We have you tagged on flight control now. Respond, 88!"

   Ben smiled.

   "Station one? This is 88."

   "Ben? The hell's going on! Why are you near the bogie? What happened to communications, we lost your transponder. Do you have systems back? Ben!"

   "Station one? Clear the channel. This is important."

   "Go ahead, 88."

   "Tell my wife I loved her. You guys are about to find out? I was getting grounded soon. I went terminal. Nothing I can do, nothing they can do for me. I love all you guys, and I loved this job. Greatest job in the whole world, and off of it."

   "Ben? What the hell are you doing. Get away from the bogie!"

   "Station one? Steve can fill you in on what's really going on."

   "Ben? Which Steve! We have thousands of employees, on the ground and up in the air! You know how many Steve's there are? Which Steve!"

   "Steve, ground security. On flight check out."

   "Ben? What the hell are you doing..."

   "Station one? I was a combat pilot. My passenger? Has something he thinks can shut the bogie down. As a combat pilot? You carry the fight directly to the heart of the enemy. You show them, that they can be touched. Station one? I'm a dead man walking. I'm going to take bogie with me."

   "Ben? Don't do this..."

   "Station one? 88 is a new call sign. This is now Air-hog 1. I'm starting my attack run now. Sit back and watch the show. Do me a favor? Tell the boys I flew with, that I said it. Air-hogs forever. We die with our boots on. Rain hell, and paint the devil on the ground... over and out."

   Ben flicked the communications off.

   "Well, Carp. Was that a little too... over the top?"

   "No, no. Very... retro action movie. I liked it."

   "You ready Joe?"

   "As ready as I'm ever going to be. Hit it."

   Ben backed up, then turned around slowly and got stationary. He flicked transponder ID back on. He took a long run, firing all rockets straight. He picked up speed. Just before the last orbital shuttle delivery, he had the rockets reloaded. They had wasted some fooling around playing while working. Letting Joe have fun when no one was around. It had been deliberate, he had wanted an excuse to have full rocket fuel just before he did this.

   He just headed straight, dead on and squared up to the black anomaly that had recently grown in size to its biggest dimensions yet. Little adjustments to keep on target. He hit the "bogie" at full speed.

   Joe had assured him, it would get bigger at 3:30 in the morning, their ground time. It had. And, at 4:00 am? It would close and disappear.

   When they made contact? Orbital shuttle 88, which had reassigned itself as "Air-hog 1"... simply disappeared off of radar. The transponder, that added an ID next to the screen blip the traffic controllers watched? Both blip and ID winked off instantly.

   They disappeared shortly before 4:00 am. The anomaly everyone was so nervous, curious, and scared of? Disappeared within seconds of 4:00 am.