by Jeff Pollard
“Oh you mean this old thing?” K asks. He hops in the air, and goes up four feet and lingers before slowly landing back on his feet between banks of solar cells. Brittany failed to notice the thin strand of cable connecting Kingsley to a helium balloon about forty feet above them.
“Why are you wearing a balloon?”
“One-sixth gravity simulator,” K replies.
“You've been in space. You've ridden the vomit comet a dozen times, they do Moon gravity.”
“Yeah for like forty seconds.”
“Aren't you interested in the bad news?” Brittany asks.
“Not especially,” K says as he steps up onto the ledge, inches away from a six-story drop to a grass field.
“What are you doing, get down from there!”
“It's cool. I got this,” K says.
“You're not jumping off the roof of a six story building!”
“Relax, it's one sixth gravity. It'll be like I jumped off the roof of a one story building.”
“How do you know!? Maybe it doesn't scale linearly like that, you don't know!”
“I'm a god damn rocket scientist, I do know. You want me to show you the math? Do I have to always show my work?”
“You shouldn't be jumping off the roof of a one story building, you'll twist your ankle,” Brittany replies. “At least have an intern do it first.”
“I do all my own stunts.”
“You do realize that your life isn't a movie right? Like, nobody's watching this, you don't have to act cool all the time.”
“I'm really something,” K replies. “So what was your bad news?”
“NASA changed the requirement for the lander, now they say. . .and he jumped of the bloody roof,” Hammersmith says as she watches Kingsley fall in one-sixth gravity. An elevator ride later, she is outside finding K sitting in the field.
“They changed the what?” K asks.
“They changed the requirement on the lander. It was 16 man-days on the surface,” Hammersmith says.
“They up it to twenty? That's not a big thing, the three of us will stay seven days instead of six.”
“No, it's still 16 man-days,” Brittany says. “They've now specified that they want four people for four days rather than a choose-your-own-adventure approach to it.”
“So we're short a crew-member,” K says. “Well, lets find us a customer.”
“Yeah, except every person who wants to go, doesn't want to go on the first mission. We got plenty of people with bucks, just no Buck Rogers.”
Virgin Colossus Casino Resort
Las Vegas, Nevada.
Kingsley enters the VIP poker room of VIP poker rooms with a slight limp. A group of mako sharks slither overhead silently in the aquarium. The Virgin Colossus is a Greek and Mediterranean themed villain's lair, I mean casino, that features a giant model of the Colossus of Rhodes standing over it.
“How do you like my card sharks?” Richard Branson asks Kingsley.
“Funny,” K says simply.
“What's with the limp?”
“Think I sprained it,” K says as he takes a seat at the table.
“How'd you do that?”
“Jumped off a six story building,” K replies.
“You know Bob,” Richard says, pointing to Bob Bigelow, “these are my friends Geoff and David, and I believe you might know Mr. Bond,” Richard says as he points to Daniel Craig.
“Can I get you a drink?” a model in a toga asks Kingsley.
“Guinness. Shaken, not stirred,” Kingsley replies.
“A what?” the waitress asks.
“I was doing a thing, you know, because of the Bond...” K gestures towards Daniel Craig. Daniel's not impressed by a joke he's heard a million times
“You want a Guinness shaken?”
“That's right. A shaken Guinness,” Kingsley doubles down.
“Yes sir,” the waitress puts on a fake smile.
“Good one,” Daniel Craig says sarcastically.
“What's the deal with the martini being shaken instead of stirred?” K asks. “When did we decide that we would idolize somebody for having a snooty drink order? Of all the catch-phrases you could have, why that? We could have an American spy named Smith, Bill Smith. And he shows up at an Applebee's to meet a secret agent that's undercover as a model-slash-nuclear-scientist and then a waitress could ask him if he's ready to order and he could then turn dramatically to camera and say, I'll have the bacon cheeseburger, hold the pickle.' That could be his trademark. 'Hold the pickle.' It could even be handy for those double entendres when he's trying to have sex with an assassin.”
“I came here to play cards,” Daniel Craig says seriously.
“Buy-in is ten million,” Branson adds.
“I've got the keys to a rocket,” K replies.
“Do rockets have keys?” Craig asks.
“Triggers the self-destruct mechanism. Does that count?”
“Another martini, shaken not stirred,” the waitress says as she puts down Richard Branson's drink, “and one Guinness Shake.” She plops down a mug that looks like it contains a root beer float.
The five men at the table stare at each other. The tension is palpable.
“I raise a hundred thousand,” Daniel Craig says, pushing chips out, then sits back and examines Kingsley, looking for any sign of weakness.
Kingsley drinks from his Guinness float with a straw, making a loud slurping noise just before he dramatically announces, “I call.”
Kingsley flips over his cards. Daniel Craig mucks his cards, admitting defeat without revealing what he was holding. The dealer pushes the chips towards Kingsley and deals the next hand.
“Like I was saying,” Bob Bigelow says, “these lunar habitats are gonna be really something. We're working on this 3d printer that can take in lunar regolith and print out basically concrete in whatever shape you want. We've got a prototype habitat, it's over-pressurized to simulate what it'd be like in a vacuum. And we've got this 3d printer robot working on building a lunacrete structure around it to give it extra protection from impacts and radiation. NASA's talking about putting up a bunch of these and then kind of burying them in the lunacrete. Pretty exciting stuff. You gonna buy some Richard, make a hotel on the Moon?”
“Oh no, you've got the wrong guy,” Branson replies, gesturing towards K.
“I might be interested,” K says. “You wanna buy a vacation to the Moon?” K asks Daniel Craig. Craig just stares back at him with his poker face.
“Speaking of the Moon,” Richard Branson says, “what's a ticket cost these days?”
“You wanna walk on the Moon?” K asks unenthusiastically, knowing that Richard is going to say yes, but that he's not interested in going on the first mission, which is what every person they've asked so far has said.
“Of course, who wouldn't want to walk on the Moon?” Branson asks.
“My wife,” Richard's friend David interjects.
“My wife too,” Geoff adds.
“What's with women and not wanting to go to space or do fun things?” Branson asks.
“I'm not staying at Virgin Moon if there's no women there,” Daniel Craig says.
“So what's the going rate?” Branson asks.
“How much you got?” K asks.
“That depends. How soon can I go?” Richard asks.
“You want to be on the very first flight?” K asks.
“Absolutely,” Richard says.
“Really?” K asks.
“You trying to talk me out of it?” Richard asks.
“Most people want to be on the second flight,” K replies.
“I'm not most people,” Richard says.
“I'll go,” Daniel Craig says.
“You want to be on the first flight?” K asks.
“I do all my own stunts,” Daniel says.
“We've only got one empty seat on the first landing,” K says. “I guess you
two will just have to outbid each other. Oh, and she'll be sitting next to you.” Caroline enters, wearing a silver gown, looking like she just stepped off the red carpet.
“Can I get a light?” she asks, holding out a long, thin cigarette. Kingsley reaches for Neil Armstrong's lighter in his breast pocket, but Daniel Craig beats him to the punch.
“Craig. Daniel Craig,” he says as he lights Caroline's cigarette. They share a moment of sexual tension like only a movie star can create.
“Would you like a drink?” a male model in a toga asks Caroline.
“Where did he come from?” K asks Branson.
“Don't order a martini,” Daniel Craig tells her.
“I'll have a G&T,” she says. “What do you take me for?” Caroline asks Daniel as she takes a seat beside him.
“You should ask Kingsley what he ordered,” Daniel replies.
“Are you drinking a milkshake?” Caroline asks Kingsley.
“Maybe,” K slurps the last of the glass.
Many drinks and many hands later, the poker game is still going strong, with the shadows of actual sharks floating over their table.
“Looks like you're the short stack,” Daniel Craig says to Kingsley as he eyes his chips. Caroline, quite inebriated, leans against Daniel and eyes his cards. Caroline and Daniel both keep their poker faces stoic and eye Kingsley.
“You putting me all in?” K asks. “One-hundred fifty million,” K says to Branson who is out of this hand.
“One hundred,” Richard replies.
“One-forty,” K replies.
“One hundred,” Richard replies. “I'm not going to negotiate against myself. You need a passenger and you can't get anyone who's willing to go on the first mission. So unless you find someone to bid against me, you're lucky I'm not lowering my offer.”
“How about it Craig, you got a hundred million?” K asks. “For a nice two week vacation to the Moon, you even get to sit next to the lovely lady.”
“I don't have a hundred million,” Craig replies. Daniel then pushes a hefty stack of his chips into the center. “That puts you all in.”
“Dick, why can't I just buy back in, this short-stack stuff is silly,” K says.
“We gotta keep an even playing field,” Richard replies. “You and I could throw down five hundred million and dominate the table cause these guys don't have the scratch to keep up.”
“Rich pricks,” Daniel Craig says. “Look how you do when you can't rig the game in your favor.”
Kingsley looks to the cards on the board, then takes another look at his two cards in the hole. He eyes Daniel.
Daniel whispers something into Caroline's ear. She smiles and nods her head. The two of them try to read Kingsley's face together.
“There's no reading to be done here,” Kingsley says dismissively. “I'm pot-committed at this point. I would have to be very bad at math to not call you.”
“So you call?” Craig asks, pretending to be bored by the delay. He takes a thousand dollar chip and runs it across the smooth skin of Caroline's neck. Kingsley stares. “Would you hold on to this love?” Daniel asks before slipping the chip into Caroline's cleavage. Caroline blushes.
Daniel picks up another chip and tosses it down the table. It lands on its edge and rolls into the middle of the table. “Oops. Would you retrieve that love?”
Caroline leans over the table, needing to reach as far as she can. She sits up on the edge of the table and hands the chip back to Daniel. She's practically sitting in his lap.
“You trying to unsettle me?” K asks. “You think I'm insecure? Like I said. I'm pot-committed.”
“Yet you haven't called yet,” Craig replies.
“That's because I'm thinking of re-raising you,” K replies.
“You can't re-raise me. You don't have anything left on the table,” Craig replies.
“That's not true,” K says, his eyes dart over to Caroline. Richard Branson is down-right shocked by this development.
“Well, there's some calamari calling my name,” Richard says and he takes his millionaire friends and the dealer with him as he leaves.
“Did you just bet me?” Caroline asks Kingsley.
“No,” K says. “But how much would she be worth? You've got another twelve million in your stack. If I push her in the middle, are you all in?”
“I won't tell you how I'll behave in a hypothetical. You make your wager.”
“Caroline,” K says. “Are you worth twelve million? Or are you worth more than that? Does this commoner have enough to match if I put you in the middle?”
“How much did you risk to get a peck on the cheek in the Grand Prix?” Caroline asks.
“Ten million,” K says, looking to Craig. “Euros.”
“He's bluffing,” Caroline says, staring at Kingsley.
“I'm all in,” Kingsley says. Caroline lays back on the table, putting her arms out, rolling in the heavy clay chips. She grabs up a couple million in chips and lays them across her chest. She looks straight up, along the table, to Kingsley.
“You want me to put in another four million dollars from off the table?” Daniel Craig asks. Caroline is laying with her feet toward Daniel, legs crossed. James Bond looks over the situation. “She knows what I'm holding. Is this your ruse? Do you two get off on this?”
“What makes you think she wants me to win?” K asks. Caroline plants her high heel on Daniel Craig's shoulder. In doing so, her legs are no longer firmly crossed and suddenly Daniel Craig has a very different view in the middle of the table. “Like you said. It's not about the money. It's about the competition,” K says.
Daniel Craig isn't so sure he hasn't just walked into a trap. “I'm worth twenty billion dollars, you think I got there with card-shark schemes?” K asks. “I'm gonna walk on the fucking Moon in six months. You think I care about a few million dollars?”
“I call,” Daniel replies. Kingsley tosses his cards on top of Caroline, revealing a pair of pocket queens to go with the queen on the board. “Three of a kind?” Craig asks. “That's too bad.” Daniel flips his cards in the middle, revealing a jack and a king. “Straight to the King,” Daniel declares. James Bond is the winner. Caroline sits up, chips cascade off of her and onto the table. Daniel helps her up and the two of them walk away, toward the VIP elevator. Caroline accentuates her hips as she walks, and Daniel Craig keeps a hand planted firmly on her ass. Kingsley watches as she disappears into the elevator.
Richard Branson and his pals return to the table. “What the hell are you thinking?” Richard asks. “You bet your girl? Are you serious?”
“Relationships are complicated, Dick.”
“So who won that hand?” Richard asks sarcastically.
“She did,” K replies.
“You a little more desperate for money now?” Richard asks. “How about I reduce my offer to 80 million?”
“Why'd you call me today?” K asks.
“For the poker ga-”
“No. I found out today that I needed another passenger. Then you just happen to invite me to a poker game the same night. You knew already didn't you?”
“ULA tried to book me on their mission,” Richard replies.
“And?”
“And I teased out their schedule and then I teased out your schedule. I want to be on the first mission. You're going first. So I'm flying SpacEx.”
“Hundred and twenty million,” K says.
“I could haggle this lower, but I'll be nice in light of recent events,” Richard says. The two men shake hands on it. “Too bad Daniel didn't hold out for more, he could have gotten a free trip to the Moon with that hand,” Richard adds.
“I think he did just get a free trip to the Moon,” Geoff adds.
“What are you a space pimp now?” Richard asks.
“You know the hotel business,” K replies.
Chapter 23
April 2020
“We're landing on August 4th, t
hey're landing on September 3rd,” Kingsley says while giving a presentation to SpacEx higher-ups and mission controllers in a dimly lit conference room in front of a projected touch screen.
“How do you know the exact date?” Josh Yerino, now an assistant Flight Director. “They haven't publicly announced any schedule.”
“I just know,” Kingsley dodges the question.
“Okay,” Josh knows not to ask.
“Which means we can't have any delays. We know we've all been fighting an uphill battle since the beginning of SpacEx. We've seen the power that lobbyists and influence have. We've seen numerous states ban the sales of Tezla while simultaneously asking us to build factories in their borders. We've seen elected and appointed officials make bad decision after bad decision because they aren't measuring their choices on the merits of the design. That's why we cannot allow ULA to beat us to the Moon. We need to do it faster and cheaper. If they come in second and spend more money doing it, it will be very difficult to justify choosing them as the prime contractor. Any slip-up now will give them enough cover to plausibly decide to pick the other guys despite us having so much lower prices. No slip-ups. No delays. Understood? Good.”
Kingsley turns to the next slide, showing an animation of the Moon with orbiting spacecraft. “Tomorrow we launch our fuel depot, and in a few days we insert it into a polar lunar orbit. On May 6th, we launch Pegasus 2 unmanned, we send it to lunar orbit, meeting up with the fuel depot. Because of the precession of the orbit, we only have a five-day window in which to land and return. So it's essential that we stay on schedule. Pegasus will deploy the Tezla Apollo,” Kingsley jokes, referring to the small electric roving vehicle. “Pegasus 2 will then return to lunar orbit, dock with the fuel depot, having proven herself a capable lunar ship. In June we will launch another Aquila fuel tanker to deliver fuel to the depot. Meanwhile the rover will be exploring the Sasserides and collecting samples while traversing to the Pegasus 3 landing site on the edge of Tycho Crater.
Then the calender becomes very important. On July 29th, we launch a Heavy with an Aquila, leaving the upper stage in LEO. On July 30th, a Griffin 3.0 carrying myself, Commander Bowe, and passengers Richard and Caroline, will dock with the Aquila, then use the Aquila's engine to perform the trans-lunar-injection burn. The Aquila will do a free-return to Earth for re-entry and possible re-use, while we will fire up the Griffin 3.0's engines to slow into lunar orbit. We will dock with the fuel depot, transfer to the Pegasus, and then we will take Pegasus down to the lunar surface near Tycho crater. We will stay for four days. This four day surface-stay, combined with a five-day window in the lunar orbiting station's orbital precession means that we have to land on August 4th or 5th. If anything pushes us back to August 6th or later, then we cannot stay on the surface for the required four full days. Understood?”
