Blue Gemini

by Mike Jenne

  In the ring at the middle of the gym, two welterweights of the base boxing team sparred, exchanging less-than-enthusiastic blows as a frustrated trainer yelled at them to be more aggressive. Several other boxers lifted weights, thrashed speed bags, or skipped rope. The place smelled of sweat, bleach, and Ben-Gay analgesic balm.

  Glimpsing Tew, Carson lowered his fists and removed his rubber mouth guard. “Sir?” he asked, seemingly not knowing what to make of Tew visiting this hallowed shrine to combatives.

  “We need to talk, Major. I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Yes, General?” replied Carson, removing his bag gloves before adjusting the white cotton tapes that encircled his hands and wrists. He used a towel to mop sweat from his forehead.

  Tew glanced around before quietly speaking. “We’re sending Ourecky away. He’s finished what he came here for, and I’ve made arrangements for him to study for his doctorate.”

  “That’s great, sir. I hate to see him go, but I’m happy for him. I know that’s something he wants to do.” Bending over at the waist, Carson tightened the laces on his high-top sneakers.

  “You’ve grown sort of close to him, haven’t you? You two have become friends, right?”

  Carson stood up and said, “That’s true, sir. I wasn’t very fond of him at first, but . . .”

  “That’s where the favor comes in, Carson. You’ve probably heard rumors that we’re shutting down Blue Gemini.”

  “I have, sir. Is it true?”

  “No,” replied Tew emphatically. “Quite the contrary. Carson, I want Ourecky out of here for his own good. That said, I want you to personally walk him through the out-processing. I want him to believe the rumors and to believe that we’re closing up the shop for good.”

  With his arms hanging at his sides, looking perplexed, Carson asked, “Why, sir?”

  “I don’t want him looking back. Ever. I want him to focus on earning his doctorate, because that’s what’s going to be most beneficial to him and the Air Force in the long run. Also, just from a security perspective, we want the fewest number of people knowing what we’re doing. It’s need to know. Ourecky did his job here, and now he’s leaving, so there’s no need for him to know what we’re doing in the future.”

  “Sir, I’m a bit confused here. You’re going to tell him that Blue Gemini has been cancelled?”

  “I’ll do nothing of the sort,” snapped Tew. “We’re just going to tell Ourecky that we didn’t achieve the requirement for the forty-eight-hour simulation, as it’s written in black and white, and he can form his own conclusions from there. We’re not going to lie to him. Moreover, you will not tell him any different, not if you intend to eventually fly. Do you understand me, Major?”

  “Understood, sir,” said Carson.

  “Carson!” yelled the trainer from the ring. “Want a workout? I need someone to wake up Mister Shum. Maybe you and your fists could help.”

  “Give me a minute, coach,” answered Carson, holding up his arm. “I’ll be right there.”

  “So we understand each other? Good,” said Tew. “Bring Ourecky around this afternoon, and we’ll break the news to him. Sorry to disturb your workout, Major.”

  1:30 p.m.

  Carson escorted Ourecky into the generals’ office. With bloodshot eyes, looking much like he had just rolled out of bed, which he had, he was unshaven and pungently in need of a shower.

  “Relax. Have a seat, gentlemen,” said Tew cordially. “How about some coffee?”

  “No, thanks, sir,” croaked Ourecky hoarsely. “I’m fine.”

  “Thanks for coming back today, Captain. I know that you were supposed to be off, and you’ve certainly earned a break,” said Tew. He nodded towards Wolcott.

  “Okay, here it is, skins off,” announced Wolcott. “Bad news ain’t like cheese, so it won’t get any more palatable as it ages.”

  “Bad news, sir?” asked Ourecky.

  “Yeah, pardner. I’m sorry, Ourecky,” said Wolcott, sliding a red-bordered paper across the table. “I know you’re seein’ this for the first time, but these are the benchmarks that we had to achieve in order to move on to the flight phase. Item number twelve states the requirement for the forty-eight-hour simulation. It’s right there, neatly spelled out in black and white.”

  Perusing the paper, Ourecky yawned audibly. “I don’t understand, sir. I thought that we . . .”

  “We were one minute and thirteen seconds short, Scott,” mourned Heydrich, hanging his head as if someone had just shot his favorite dachshund. “It was my fault. I didn’t adequately anticipate the impact of the random drop-in events, like the delayed paraglider deployment. It’s not your fault, Scott. You couldn’t have handled the situation any better than you did.”

  “One minute and thirteen seconds?” asked Ourecky.

  Wolcott nodded. “One minute and thirteen seconds. Doesn’t seem like much, does it?”

  Ourecky swallowed, grimaced, and asked, “And Blue Gemini?”

  “Not your concern, son,” replied Tew.

  Ourecky looked like he had been gored with a poleaxe. Silent, Carson gritted his teeth and clenched his fists under the table.

  “And now, the good news,” declared Tew. “Assuming the likelihood that things might take a turn for the worse, I’ve been working on some contingencies on your behalf.”

  “Remember, hombre,” drawled Wolcott. “Before you climbed into the Box on Tuesday, I told you that we would make danged sure that you got what you deserved.”

  But he doesn’t deserve this, thought Carson.

  Tew handed Ourecky a thin manila envelope. “On Tuesday morning, you’re to report to the Manned Orbiting Laboratory project offices in El Segundo, California. You’ll remain there through May, and then you’ll proceed to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where you’ll be enrolled as a doctoral candidate.”

  “MIT, sir?” asked Ourecky. “Doctoral candidate? PhD?”

  “That’s correct, Captain. Of course, you’ll go as an Air Force officer, so you’ll incur an additional service obligation, but I think that’s a small price to pay.”

  “I agree, sir,” said Ourecky, obviously still coming to grips with the situation. “It’s quite an honor. But what will happen to the people here? Major Carson? Gunter? All the others?”

  “Again, Ourecky, that’s not your concern,” said Tew, extending his hand. “You worked hard while you were here, and we want to do right by you. As for Blue Gemini, son, things don’t always go the way we plan. In any event, it was an honor to serve with you.”

  Solemnly shaking Tew’s hand, then standing at attention and briskly saluting, Ourecky said, “The honor was all mine, sir. Truly.”

  “Thanks for everything,” said Wolcott, sticking out his hand as well. “You gave it your best, buster, and that’s all that matters. I wish the best for you in California and at MIT.”

  Crestfallen, Ourecky shook Wolcott’s hand. “Thanks for the opportunity to serve, sir.”

  “It was a pleasure to work with you, Scott,” said Heydrich, hugging Ourecky and then wiping a tear from his eye. “I know that you’ll do well at Cambridge.”

  As Ourecky turned to walk out the door, Wolcott said, “Just hold fast out there in the reception area, pardner. Carson will follow shortly, and he’ll help you pack up today and process out on Monday. He’ll be with you every step of the way. Shut that door behind you, please.”

  Carson shot Tew and Wolcott an angry glance and said quietly, “Are you sure you had to do it that way? Now, Ourecky’s going to go through life with this weighing on his conscience, thinking that he failed us at a critical moment. It’s not right.”

  “This was my decision, Major,” snapped Tew. “And I would caution you never to question my judgment again. Have a seat. We still have another matter to discuss with you.”

  Still tired from the last two days, Carson plopped down in a chair. “Sir, I’ll do as you ask and get Ourecky on his way to California. I’ll stick to him lik
e glue. He won’t know anything.”

  “That ain’t what this is about, pardner,” said Wolcott, lighting a cigarette.

  “We need to review crew assignments,” declared Tew bluntly. “Of the two crews in the bullpen, which do you consider best prepared—currently—to fly a mission?”

  “Howard and Riddle, by far, sir,” replied Carson. “No question in my mind.”

  “That’s our assessment as well,” noted Wolcott. He puffed out a large smoke ring, which hovered lazily in the air before impacting the tiled ceiling.

  Tew scratched his chest through his shirt and said, “Carson, I’m going to tell you something, and you are not to discuss it with the other crews, until I instruct you otherwise.”

  Carson nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Our unmanned shot in February has been scrubbed. We’re still launching in February, but it will be a manned shot. Granted, it’s only going to be a practice mission against a simulated target, but we’re sending up a crew. After that mission, we will send up operational missions at three-month intervals to intercept, inspect, and destroy hostile satellites.”

  “We’re goin’ to orbit, Carson,” added Wolcott excitedly.

  Carson took a moment to absorb the new information, realizing that he had finally earned his ticket to space, and then smiled. “Well, sir, that’s excellent news.”

  “You are not goin’ on the first mission, pardner,” said Wolcott, as if he could divine Carson’s thoughts. “You’re far and away our best pilot, but I won’t tear up another crew just so we can pair you up with a right-seater who may or may not be able to work with you. Besides, since this is just goin’ to be a low-pressure practice run, we don’t necessarily want to play our first string quarterback.”

  “But it’s the first mission, sir.”

  “Granted,” interjected Tew. “But it won’t be your first mission, Major.”

  “Here’s what we’re offering, pardner, on a take-it-or-leave-it basis,” said Wolcott. “No later than the end of the day, Mark and I will make the call on who flies first. We’re leaning towards Howard and Riddle, but regardless of our pick, that first crew will have top priority on all training resources. We want you to train them. Now, there’s the matter of the next mission, which will be our first operational mission. We intend to pair Ed Russo with you.”

  Carson cringed at the mention of Russo. Just the notion of being jammed into a spacecraft with him was enough to make Carson nauseous.

  “Now, pardner, this next part will probably be the stickiest burr under your saddle. We’ve determined that the critical place to fill is the right-hand seat. With your in-depth working knowledge of the intercept process, it would be much easier to shift you to the right seat, and put Russo on the left side. Besides, Russo is senior to you.”

  “And what are my other options, sir?” asked Carson.

  “None, if you want to fly the first operational mission,” said Tew. “You fly with Russo or not at all. If you won’t, we can leave you in a trainer position, working under Gunter Heydrich, until our next crop of pilots comes in. So you can either voluntarily choose to fly with Russo or you can ride the bench for a year while preparing the other crews to fly. Your choice, Major.”

  “And what if I elect to leave Blue Gemini, sir? What if I choose to resign my commission?”

  Wolcott snuffed out his cigarette and said, “Carson, I don’t know if you read all the fine print before you signed, but you don’t have the option to resign your commission. You belong to us for at least the next five years. If you want to quit Blue Gemini, feel free to do so, but you best be mindful that you won’t be heading to Southeast Asia, if that’s what you envision happening when you leave here. No. In fact, Carson, you’ll be renewin’ your friendship with Major Agnew.”

  “And where is Major Agnew, sir?” asked Carson.

  “Can’t exactly tell you, hoss,” replied Wolcott. “But I’ll give you a hint. Before you board that plane, you’ll be drawin’ two sets of extreme cold weather gear, much like the stuff you used at Eielson. The second set is for when the first batch eventually wears out.”

  “I’m sorry, Carson, but you didn’t leave us with a lot of options,” said Tew. “You’re an excellent pilot, but you’re fortunate that you’re not sitting in Leavenworth right now, given your childish antics. Assaulting a senior officer is a serious court martial offense. Be back in here at sixteen hundred, and let us know your decision. And if you breathe a word of this to Ourecky, then you won’t have a decision to make, because I will make it for you.”

  Carson stood up, saluted Tew, and left. Wolcott chuckled and said, “Good thing I didn’t mention that we’ve both assaulted plenty of senior officers over the course of our careers, huh?”

  “You just had to remind me, Virgil, didn’t you?”

  Wright Arms Apartments, Dayton, Ohio; 6:20 p.m.

  As he trudged up the stairs, Ourecky’s head swirled with all the things that had to be accomplished. He wanted to ask Drew to join Bea and him for dinner sometime over the weekend, but Carson just seemed angry and distant most of the afternoon. Ourecky couldn’t decide if Carson’s ire was something that he had caused. One minute and thirteen seconds, he thought, literally months of hard work undone in one minute and thirteen seconds.

  Bea met him at the door. “Let’s go dancing, Scott,” she said seductively, slipping her arms around his waist as she kissed him. “It’s been a dreadful week. I just want to do something fun.”

  “It’s been a horrible week for me, too,” muttered Ourecky, sliding out of her grasp. He slipped out of his coat and hung it on a peg by the door. He shuffled toward the couch, took a seat, and patted the worn upholstery. “Bea, I have something to tell you, and you’re not going to be very happy about it.”

  “Scott Ernst Ourecky!” she exclaimed, wagging her finger at him. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to flight school. You promised.”

  “Nothing like that, Bea,” he responded. “Please, please sit down. Something happened at work today, while you were out shopping, and I had to go back to the base. General Tew wants me to go to California for a while. Bea, I’m really sorry, but I have to leave on Tuesday.”

  “California?” she asked, furrowing her brow and frowning. Then she smiled, ever so slightly, licked her upper lip, and said, “California . . . California. So, Scott, how long will you be there?”

  “A few months. At least through the end of May.”

  “Where in California, darling?” she asked calmly, picking up a Delta Airlines in-flight magazine from the coffee table. She opened it and quickly flipped through the pages to a map in the back of the magazine, which depicted Delta domestic routes and cities in the United States.

  “El Segundo. It’s near Los Angeles. Right by the airport, in fact.” He looked at her, surprised at her unruffled demeanor. “Bea, aren’t you even the least bit upset? I’m going to California for a few months. I’m leaving on Tuesday.”

  Studying the map, she pursed her lips and smiled. “Oh, Scott, you are in the Air Force so it’s not a shock that they would send you somewhere on temporary duty. At least you’re not going overseas, to Vietnam or Korea or someplace horrible like that. California is nice. We have a route to LA from Atlanta, so I can just catch a flight over, spend the weekend with you, and then come back in time to fly on Sunday afternoon. It’ll be great, Scott. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Stunned by her response, Ourecky strained to make sense of what was happening. Maybe it was just because he was dog-tired, but everyone seemed at least one step ahead of him, or that there was something that they all shared that they weren’t willing to share with him. He was sure that Bea would be distraught with his news, at least momentarily, but she was taking it all in stride. In fact, she was beyond being calm and collected; she seemed downright happy.

  “That’s not all, Bea. After I go to California, I won’t come back here.”

  “Really? Where would you go?” asked Bea. She sipped some
red wine from a glass she had left on the coffee table and then handed the glass to him.

  He finished the wine. “Well, the Air Force wants to send me to MIT for my doctorate.”

  “Really? That’s great, Scott. That’s what you wanted to do after you left the Air Force, and now the Air Force is going to pay for it? That’s excellent.”

  As tired as he was, something she said just didn’t mesh. And then it came to him. “How would you know that the Air Force is paying for it?” he asked, setting the glass on the end table.

  She looked at him for a moment, smiled hesitantly, and then answered, “Well, I just assumed that they would pay for it, dear, if they’re sending you back to school. And I’m sure that they’ll want something for their investment, won’t they?”

  “Yeah. I’ll have to stay in for three more years.”

  “That’s worth it, Scott. More than worth it.”

  “So do you think you might consider going to MIT with me? I know we haven’t set a date, but maybe we could get married after I come back from California.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” she replied. “A good plan.”

  “And you don’t mind going to Massachusetts?” he asked.

  “No, Scott. I don’t mind at all. I just want to be with you, wherever you are.”

  Contingency Stocks Commodity Warehouse # 2

  Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio

  9:45 p.m., Friday, January 24, 1969

  “Wow, man, cool,” said Yost, grinning as he jingled the ring of keys around his finger. Providence had arrived; he just could not believe his good fortune. “Are you sure?”

  “I am,” asserted his supervisor, Master Sergeant Kroll, a large man of Estonian descent. “Really, Yost, you would be doing me a huge favor. I know you’ve fallen on some hard times lately, what with Gretchen leaving you and cleaning out your bank account and all, so I guess I would be doing you a favor, too, so let’s just consider it a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  Yost was so overjoyed that he was almost moved to tears. It was almost too much to ask for, a heaven-sent opportunity to reverse his present circumstances. “Okay, let’s go over it one more time, just to make sure that I’ve got it all down. I don’t want to let you down, Bob.”