Throughout the first round of testing, Mila had gone to sleep each night hearing Danielle Zion’s booming voice in her head. Lift more, run faster, climb higher. She’d expected a break now that the fitness testing was finished. No such luck.
No matter what the activity, if it took place in her gym, Zion was in charge. Here she was again, pacing the hardwood floor like the lord of her castle.
Now on their third day of testing with partners, Mila was optimistic about surviving yet another round. Her reaction time scores were superb, thanks to thousands of hours of playing BattleStorm. High enough in fact to carry Andi, who wasn’t as quick.
Moriya Ito, who headed up the instrumentation team, had put them through an exhaustive battery of dexterity tests, all of which required teamwork. Sorting nails and screws, assembling pins and washers, pushing pegs into holes of various shapes and sizes. Simple stuff until the second round, when they’d been given bulky work gloves and glasses that limited their field of vision.
Only one more afternoon of tests before tomorrow’s cut, which would take them down to sixty-four.
Zion split them into groups of eight, with one observer in a yellow staff shirt assigned to each group to keep track of scores and take notes on individual performances. Notes for the mysterious selection committee, no doubt.
Mila was intrinsically motivated to do well, but having Major Beaumont and her partner in her group brought out her best effort.
Just call me Jancey.
That was hard to do, especially since Jancey not only called her Todorov, she made it sound as if it came from a barking bulldog. Toloti’s name was even worse, like a throat-clearing.
Also in the group were the Fagans, Brandon and Libby, both MIT grads. Brandon was the robotics engineer whose company had built the Mars rover that launched a couple of weeks ago aboard Tenacity I. His wife was a NASA astronaut with a PhD in botany, but she’d never flown a mission. Still, their complementary skills made them a sure bet to advance.
Rounding out their group were Guillermo Rojas and Wei Chai. Throughout the morning, the two had provided comic relief trying to communicate with each other, one with a heavy Spanish accent and the other, Chinese.
“I want all groups lined up behind the cones,” Zion yelled. “On your butts, side by side with your partner.”
Mila’s mind flashed back to the games she’d played in primary school. Many of the Tenacity exercises they’d done as partners were quite similar to children’s games, but here the stakes were much higher.
It was undeniable she and Andi made an effective team. Only once had she really, really wanted to kill her. That was when Andi made a joke to the others about Mila eating poi with every meal. It’s high in fluorine, she’d mocked in a high, squeaky voice. Jancey had laughed. Snorted, actually. Mila wanted to crawl under a rock.
At the front of each line, Zion had placed several small wooden blocks of varying shapes. Toddler toys, the kind they stacked into castles, cars or monsters.
“Imagine you’re in space and your vessel suffers external damage. One of you has to put on the spacesuit and go outside to fix it. The other has to stay inside and read the instructions aloud. That’s what we’re doing here. First team in the line, come up to the front and have a seat back to back. One partner gets the blocks, the other gets the envelope. Inside is a picture of a structure using all the pieces. You’ll have two minutes to describe to your partner how to build the structure you see.”
A staff observer stood by to supervise the activity and record scores. And no doubt to keep anyone from turning around to sneak a peek at the photograph.
Mila and Andi were first in their line, and Mila got the envelope.
“Let’s make this a bit more realistic, shall we?” Zion handed out two pairs of gloves, one made of stiff rubber, and the other bulky canvas. “Put the rubber ones on first.”
“I feel like an idiot,” Andi said as she wiggled her fingers open and shut. “And don’t you dare say what you’re thinking.”
“Questions?” Zion allowed less than two seconds to respond. “Proceed.”
Mila ripped open the envelope. “This would be so much easier if I spoke Texan.”
“Or if I spoke Bulgarian gibberish.”
“Oops, I’ve loosened your tether. There you go…drifting away.” She rotated the photo until she was sure she had it upright. “Start with the rhomboid. Lay it flat on the floor with the smaller angle on the lower left side. Next, stand the trapezoid upright with the widest side as the base, bisecting the center of the rhomboid with the ends at two o’clock and eight. Now take the triangle…” Using precise angles and measures, they were able to reconstruct the sculpture with relative ease well before time ran out.
She bumped Andi’s fist in celebration as their team’s observer recorded their success on a score sheet.
Next came the Fagans, whose envelope contained a different photo. They got the pieces in the right order, but Brandon failed to specify the proper rotation of the base. Nearly perfect, but not.
“You didn’t listen,” he snapped.
“I did. You never told me the rectangle was supposed to be vertical.”
“You should have asked instead of assuming. One little mistake like that could knock us out of contention.”
Mila traded awkward looks with Andi as the couple squabbled, but she didn’t dare turn around. It wasn’t any of her business if Libby was willing to put up with being bullied by her husband. It probably threatened his masculinity that she, as an astronaut, was already in one of the world’s most elite clubs and he wasn’t.
Guillermo and Wei took their turn, talking hopelessly past one another. It would be a miracle if either of them advanced to the next round.
Zion clapped. “Last team. You’re up!”
By this time, Mila and Andi had moved back to the front of the line, close enough to hear Jancey and Shel struggling with the task. Shel confused the trapezoid with the rhomboid, and had trouble estimating degrees and centimeters.
“This is impossible,” Shel said. “We should have switched sides so I’d get the envelope. I’m no good on this end.”
“You have to focus,” Jancey told her firmly as the clock ticked. “You heard what Zion said. If this is an exercise in space, failure isn’t an option. Now pay attention. We’ve got less than a minute left.”
“I’m serious, Jancey. I can’t do it this way. The harder I try, the more confusing it gets.” Shel staggered to her feet, gripping her head with both hands. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was twisted in a look of pain.
“What’s happening?” Jancey rushed to her side, as did Zion and their team’s observer.
“That ringing…can’t you hear it?”
Mila jumped up also, moving closer in case Shel stumbled.
“Easy does it,” Zion said. “It’s probably just some pressure built up in the inner ear. Take her outside and walk her around.” She gestured for Mila and Andi to go along.
A blast of hot, humid air enveloped the four women as they stepped outside in the afternoon sun. Mila supported one of Shel’s elbows while Andi held the other. They guided her to a bench where she collapsed, still holding her head.
“I’m fine, ladies. Just trying to make it look good.”
Jancey checked her forehead, obviously worried. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I was killing you, Jancey. That guy in the yellow shirt…our observer. I saw him write something in his notebook when I was trying to make sense of what you were saying. He checked your badge, not mine. I don’t want to be known as the idiot who got Jancey Beaumont bounced out of the Tenacity Project.”
“Are you insane? You can’t just give up like that. One little test doesn’t mean anything. We train like this for a reason.”
Shel looked at Mila with pleading eyes. “Tell her. You saw the guy.”
Mila felt her stomach drop as she came under Jancey’s fiery gaze. “I did. He checked your badge and then made a mark on his clipboard.”
“So freaking what? He should have been writing that I remained calm. That I was clear and persistent.”
“I don’t think so.” It took nerve for Mila to disagree with Jancey, but this was important. “He frowned and shook his head. Whatever he wrote, it wasn’t good.”
“He frowned and shook his head,” Shel repeated pointedly. “The only reason I got this far was because all the tests have been visual up to now. I’ve had a problem with auditory directions ever since I was a kid. I have to record everything and transcribe it to make sense of it. I can’t even use a talking GPS in my car. It’s been a good run, but this is the end of the line for me. If I don’t pull out right now, your scores are going in the toilet.”
Jancey threw her hands up. “That’s it? How can you just give up like that? This is Mars we’re talking about. Do you know how many people would kill to be where you are?”
“And we both know I don’t stand a chance of getting there. It’s not even a real test because there’s no way you’d ever get sent to Mars with a journalist, not when half the people left are astronaut material. Do you want to risk losing your shot?”
“She’s right, Jancey,” Andi said. “You can’t take a chance on this. There’s too much at stake.”
The veins in Jancey’s neck rippled as she clenched her jaw. “If this is how you’re going to deal with adversity in space, I sure hope none of you end up going with me. Where’s your tenacity? Your persistence? Your determination?”
“She’s just being logical,” Mila said. She felt bad for Shel, who’d just fallen on her sword to save Jancey’s chances. “When you’re faced with a situation where one of you might succeed or both of you will probably fail, there’s only one rational choice. I’d have done the same thing Shel did, Jancey. At least for you. Not for Shel or Andi though. The stronger one must survive.”
Andi smacked her on the upper arm. “You think you’re stronger than me?”
“It’s stronger than I, and yes. Maybe not physically, but I can improve that during training. I don’t believe any amount of training will bring your concentration or spatial acuity up to my level. On a mission to Mars, those skills will be far more important than physical strength.”
It hadn’t been her intention to insult Andi. She only meant to dispel the tension between Shel and Jancey, and apparently she’d done that. Both of them were looking away and whistling innocently as if trying not to witness Andi’s humiliation.
“I’m not saying you aren’t smart enough to make the cut. Organic chemistry is very important in a long-term space project.”
“Damn right it is. Without me you’d starve to death, so don’t go thinking you’re going to cut my tether and let me drift off into space.”
Mila could have argued that she expected to be trained in the science of growing food and cloning protein, and that she was fully capable of learning it. Something in Andi’s red face told her she’d already said more than enough.
* * *
As much as Jancey hated to admit it, her chances for moving on were notably improved now that Shel had withdrawn. Not only was she free from the consequences of her auditory learning problems, she was reaping a clear advantage from being grouped with Mila and Andi for the rest of the afternoon. They were smart and capable, and took their tasks seriously.
They also were competitive with one another, and it made both of them better.
Mila in particular seemed to grasp how the small details added up to the big picture. She was confident of her strengths and determined to overcome her weaknesses. Logical, systematic, unexcitable. Perfect qualities for an astronaut.
The observers scurried around the gym passing out pencils and index cards.
“Something a little different this time,” Zion yelled from the center of the gym. “Not a test…just something to get you thinking about life on Mars. You may launch with three personal items. Assume that all of your scientific needs are met, as are your basic necessities of food and hygiene. I’m talking about personal items for leisure and comfort. Be reasonable. That means no bicycles or grand pianos. Write down which three things you’ll take.”
Thanks to her year-long mission, Jancey knew exactly what she’d take to Mars. A tablet computer so she could read or watch video without having to sit at the command console. She expected Mission Control to supply her with a steady stream of science articles so she could keep up with her field, though once she left for Mars, the scientific discoveries on Earth would have less consequence for her. Her work—her experiments and observations—would constitute a new subfield of molecular biology, one that depended solely on her dedication to sharing her newfound knowledge.
The other two items were critical to keeping her sane—her clarinet and a box of reeds that would last until supplies could be replenished within a couple of years by the next wave of colonists. There would be little time for leisure, but she understood after her year alone in space how important it was to make time for relaxation.
“I’ll go first,” Andi said. “I want my noise-canceling headphones. And I want an iPod that holds every piece of music I like. And third, I want my neck pillow, the one I use on airplanes.”
Mila nodded slowly. “Those are very good choices.”
“You’re going to say something smartass now, aren’t you?”
“You might consider it smartass, but I’m sincere in saying how much I appreciate that you included headphones so I wouldn’t be impacted by your desire to listen to music I don’t enjoy.”
“It’s better than that crap you listen to…Bulgarian choirs. They sound like elephants at a funeral.”
“I’ll have you know Bulgarian choral music is a centuries-old style that contains complex diaphony and dissonant harmony, all of which are culturally conditioned. It takes a trained ear to appreciate it. A trained Bulgarian ear. Whereas your music…what is it they say? It has a nice beat and you can dance to it.”
“Girls, girls.” Jancey was both impressed and entertained by Mila’s precision takedown, but with the observers wandering around taking notes, it mattered more to show they could work as a team without bickering. “I’ll go next.”
She listed her items, explaining their importance during her time aboard Guardian. When she mentioned her clarinet, she glowered at Andi, daring her to call it crap.
“I would take a Rubik’s Cube, a five-by-five,” Mila said. “I’ve only solved it once, and it took me weeks. If I had the time to concentrate, I’d try to figure out the algorithms so I could get my time down to under an hour. And I’m very interested in reading, so a tablet computer would be a good idea, especially since I could also use it to watch video and listen to music. Including tango music. I would enjoy very much teaching my partner the tango.”
Andi rolled her eyes dramatically and addressed Jancey, “Are you hearing this crap?”
Not only was Jancey hearing it, she was keenly aware that Mila appeared to be directing her comments to her and not Andi. That took chutzpah.
“And third…I have noise-canceling headphones on my list too. That way, my partner can do whatever she wants and it won’t disturb me.”
“Next exercise,” Zion bellowed. “Name one item you’ll take for your partner, the other person in your crew.”
“Andi needs her own tablet,” Mila said without hesitation. “Music’s fine, but it doesn’t stimulate as much as reading or watching video.”
“Who says I wanna be stimulated? The way I see it, we could be working fifteen hours a day. That’s enough stimulation for me. Besides, we can trade back and forth, my iPod for your tablet. That way you can listen to your dissonant harmonies.”
Jancey heard an undertone of grudging camaraderie between the two, but hoped for Mila’s sake she ended up with someone else if she were chosen to go. She needed a partner who was committed to her success, not one needling her at every turn. “I agree with Mila. I’d take along a tablet for you. If you never used it, I’d have an extra when mine wore out.”
“Fine, then I’d take an iPod for Mila. I can’t take one for you though because you won’t have any headphones.”
“Of course I will,” Jancey said. “The ones that come with our comm system are far superior to anything you can buy commercially.”
Mila scrunched her nose and nodded, clearly conceding she’d wasted a pick. “Jancey, I’d take along another box of reeds for your clarinet so you wouldn’t have to worry about running out.”
Thoughtful and selfless. Exactly the way a partner should be. “Thank you. Except I’d probably run out anyway, because I’d take a second clarinet for you. I’d teach you to play, and perhaps you’d train my ear in the Bulgarian tradition. It sounds very challenging, like something we could work on together for years.”
She held Mila’s look for several conspicuous seconds, biting her tongue to keep from adding that she’d love learning the tango.
Andi scoffed, breaking their gaze. “Thank God you didn’t pick a clarinet for me. I’d take a tablet over that any day.”
Jancey shook her head as she snapped their gaze, scolding herself. She didn’t need a distraction like Mila, not when both of them were fighting for a seat on Tenacity. Grace Faraday would say otherwise, that Mila was the perfect partner for a lifelong trip to a hostile planet. They had to get there first, and that wouldn’t happen if she didn’t focus.