Tuesday, August 10, 1982

LYNDON B. JOHNSON SPACE CENTER, HOUSTON

“You’re not going to let me fly.”

Joe Muldoon sat back in his office chair, which creaked under his weight. There was an empty Dr. Pepper can on his desk, out of place among the executive stationery and leather blotters; he grabbed the can and crushed it with a quick movement. “It isn’t like that, Natalie. I told you; I wanted to explain all this to you in person, myself, rather than let you hear it another way…”

“I appreciate that. But you’re not going to let me fly.”

“You’re not going to be the only disappointed dude in JSC. Look, I told you: because we lost that damn Saturn VB, and because we’ve had our budget pared even more — goddamn it, Natalie, the whole country’s been in recession for a year; that’s hardly my fault — because of all that we’re having to compress the schedule. And we’ve still got a deadline to meet. The crew of the first E-class mission will now fly a mission we’re calling D-prime, which will combine the objectives of the old D and E-classes. And—”

“So the D mission, my space soak mission, is gone. Joe, I know as much about Mars as anyone in the Astronaut Office. And you’re not going to let me fly.”

Muldoon made a visible effort to control himself. “Natalie, you have to believe this. It isn’t personal. Except that I don’t think this is such a loss. It’s precisely because you know so much that you’re a lot more use to me here, on the ground, than hanging around in some tin can in LEO watching the paintwork yellow. I need you here, Natalie. To teach us about Mars. To remind us why we’re going there in the first place.”

She thought it over, trying to contain her anger. “All right. What choice have I got? But I’m going to continue with my training, and my time in the sims, and I’m going to grab every bit of flight experience I can. And if you’re telling me now you’re going to stop me doing that, I’ll be walking out of that door, and I won’t be back. Mars expert or not.”

He held his hands up. “Enough! You’ve got yourself a deal, Natalie.”

She narrowed her eyes as a new suspicion entered her head. “ERA,” she said.

He looked baffled. “Huh?”

“The Equal Rights Amendment. It was thrown out in June.” She felt her anger blossom inside her, an unreasonable rage. “The political climate’s changing. Is that why you feel able to pick on me now?”