Vessel of Heaven

To Garrett Johnston, the intensive astronaut training was like Heaven, pushing his skills, and his being, to their limits. Unlike most of his compatriots, he had no doubts about his place in the mission, and the lessons, the lectures and the learning all made him feel that much more confident. That much more in control.

"Excellent work, Johnston," Colonel Anthony said. "Confidentially, I think that you're the most qualified member of the crew."

Garrett couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, sir. But I have every confidence in my fellow astronauts and their competence."

"Excellent. So you should." The Colonel lit a cigarette and offered one to Johnston, who declined. "All that I'm saying is that you're the best of a qualified group. I wouldn't want anyone else on the mission-except maybe a few career Air Force boys. But they didn't ask for my input on the crew." He dragged on the cigarette. "Just to train them. And, as head of your training, I think I'm qualified to say you're the best damn astronaut we've got going up there."

He stubbed the cigarette out in the steel and Lucite ashtray on his desk. "So tell me, Johnston," he continued, "how do you feel about the rest of your team? Unofficially, off the record."

Garrett fidgeted slightly, inhaling taste of dissipating smoke in the air. "Well, sir, I'd have to say I really do have every confidence in them. They may seem shaky, they may not be one hundred percent sure of themselves or that they belong on the mission, but I wouldn't hesitate to put my life in their hands."

"Good, because that is exactly what you're going to be doing." The Colonel reached for another cigarette but decided against it. "Let me tell you, it took a lot of pushing and string-pulling just to get the okay for this mission, and frankly if the administration hadn't been catching flak for taking so long, for letting the public lose interest, the first mission probably would have been a solo man. Even with all the damn chimps and dogs and whatever the Hell else's been sent up, the suits are still afraid of sending people. But we got it, thank God. And before the Russians or the French or anyone else."

Garrett didn't know what the Colonel expected him to say. He was a man more concerned about humanity, the world, nature. . . countries and borders seemed so artificial. He went for the safe bet. "Yes, sir," he said.

Colonel Anthony checked the clock. "You have another training session?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then get to it!"