Read Back to the Moon-ARC for Free Online

was a model of the International Space Station flanked on each side with Russia’s Mir space station and the U.S. Skylab. Along the north wall were models of each of the rockets that had carried humans into space. The east wall was graced with models of rockets that carried only satellites and unmanned spacecraft. The south and west walls were the windows that made his corner office, and high above each window, just out of direct line of sight, were hanging models of spacecraft—well over a hundred of them.
    Gesling took the seat directly across from Childers, and both men sat down at about the same time.
    “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Childers began. “Your text said it was important but not urgent. I don’t get many of those. Usually everything is urgent and important.” Childers, with his full head of closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair, looked the part of a corporate executive. He could have been the CEO of any large business or a Wall Street executive. He had “the look”—the look of a man with money and power.  
    “Well,” Gesling started. “Gary, you know I am dedicated to this flight. I’ve worked my butt off getting ready. I’ve been with you for seven years, helped you make the pitches to the board and the regulators, faced the media, and I even took that low-blow interview for 60 Minutes that made us—both of us—look like fools eager to part with our money. But I’ve just about had it up to here with some of the pantywaists we’re taking to space.” Gesling quickly moved his right hand to his forehead as he completed the last sentence and then dropped it back down to his side.
    “I’m a pilot, and a damned good one. I flew for the Navy and faced hostile fire more than I’m supposed to admit. That ‘police action’ near Indonesia just about became a war between China and us, and let me tell you, for those of us in the planes, it sure felt like war. I’ve been chewed out by the best the U.S. military has to offer. You’ve given me a few that I’d just as soon forget. Dodging missiles is a piece of cake compared to what you’ve asked me to do—and I am not talking about flying Dreamscape . She’ll be a pleasure. It’s the damned customers that are driving me crazy!”
    “You’ve got to be kidding” was all Childers could manage to say. Gary Childers was not usually a man at a loss for words. From the look on his face, he seemed frustrated with Paul. Paul couldn’t understand why.
    Looking exasperated and more desperate than a Navy fighter pilot should ever appear to be, Gesling directed his gaze downward to the floor and then back to Childers’s face.  
    “I am not kidding,” Gesling told him. “Take Matt Thibodeau, for example. First of all, he showed up for the survival training late. While he was there, he kept taking calls on his satellite phone and basically tuned out most of the time. He won’t work with his seatmate—says she’s ‘too bossy’ and will hardly give her the time of day. He’s not yet been able to seal his pressure suit correctly and insists it’s everyone else’s problem but his own. He doesn’t have a clue how to share the emergency air supply and shows absolutely no interest in learning. On top of that, he pukes every time we fly parabolas in the trainer and refuses to acknowledge that it is his responsibility during the flight to clean up his own mess. I cannot and will not clean up this arrogant customer’s puke when we are on our way to the Moon!” Gesling gritted his teeth behind his pursed lips. His jaw muscle tightened tensely.
    “And then there’s that Sudanese guy, Sharik Mbanta. Who does he think he is? Sure, his father is filthy rich, but that is absolutely no excuse for him trying constantly to sleep with my trainers. Sharon and Tara are good at what they do, and, yes, they are both pretty good-looking. They are also both very married, and Tara has two kids! But that doesn’t stop Mr. Mbanta. Oh, no. If he