The Dreams of a Technician
By Freyna
“Hey! Get your ass in gear! You work like a snail! Even the moon’d get tired waiting around for your ass!” Cid yelled.
I swallowed my anger at my own incompetence. For months now, I had been an engineer, specializing in spaceship life support systems. And not one person could blame Cid for his impatience; we all knew his passion for flying. That and the small fact that he was to be the first man in space. Besides, we were more like a family than ‘colleagues’. Not that that made his anger any less real. Almost choking, I manage a feeble, “I’m…I’m sorry.”
Cid gestured wildly with his hands. “Don’t take so much time checkin’ that frickin oxygen tank!” He paused and released a theatrical sigh, “Shera,” he said to me, “being careful’s good, but it won’t do any good no matter how many times you check that oxygen tank. That thing wouldn’t break even if hell froze over.”
He’s probably right; yet, I swear there’s something wrong.
“But…”
“No buts!” he interrupts, “You’re not stupid, so be more efficient!”
“I’m sorry,” what else can I say?
“You damn well better be,” he shot back. Then he storms out, leaving me alone in the engine section of the rocket.
The clock says it’s nearly midnight, and after looking around, and it looks like I’m the only one left working here.
So I slide onto the ground and think.
He really wasn’t such a bad guy, just over exaggerated. I’ve known him for years, yet everything I know about him I’ve learned in the last few months. We come from the same city, but were merely acquaintances with knowledge of the other’s skills. I’ve always looked up to him, perhaps you could say I somewhat idolized him. Is that why I take his crap? Maybe. Or maybe it’s because I feel more for him than I care to admit. It helps to know that he really doesn’t mean it. He’s one of the best men I know under that tough exterior…and besides that, he usually acted nicer than he had.
Rumor had gotten around that Shinra would be withdrawing its funding from the Shinra Space Program if the rocket, called the Shinra 26 was still on the ground by the first of September. Things have gotten tense around here of the late; it’ll be even more so today, as it is the thirty-first of August, or has been for a few minutes. The president of Shinra had recently begun complaining of lack of results. It seems they had recently found an enterprise more profitable than our little expedition here. Everyone knew that it would take us six months to make enough money to send the Shinra 26 into space by ourselves. It was not a time period we were willing to wait out. Suddenly, my vision blurred.
Cid’s dream, his goals of reaching outer space had infected us all. I don’t think I’d be able to bear disappointing him. He wanted this more than he wanted anything in the world, and I wanted to give it to him. I would have liked to say that all results were satisfactory, but the condition of the oxygen tanks were critical to this launch. All we had worked for could be put in jeopardy because of the results of two oxygen tanks. Having the pilot die would hardly be a good thing. And it would be all my fault. “Well,” I think to myself, blinking away the tears, “there’s no way I’m going to working on anything if I pass out from exhaustion tomorrow…today.”
So I headed down to our growing little town. All of us working on this project have moved away from our homes in different parts of the world to partake in the building of the rocket and the mission to outer space. What began as a makeshift camp has now become a village, a village we call Rocket Town, completely dominated by engineers. The sky was a deep navy blue, but the moon brightened everything like a miniature sun. Many of the houses had bright little windows, through which one nervous or excited technician after another contemplated the launch, while others were opaque in their darkness. It within one of those houses that Shera slept.
Launch Day
I was up early that day, running tests on the same damn oxygen tanks. And the same ones were showing unsatisfactory results: tanks number seven and eight.
Suddenly, the rocket came to life. So this was to be my fate. The launch would incinerate me, but there was enough time for me to make the final arrangements. Cid has given me a vision, the only one I would die for. Imagining our Captain in space with our rocket made me happier than words could possibly express. But still knowing that I had a time limit, I immediately went to work.
Suddenly, the intercom blared, “Cid! We have an emergency situation! A mechanic is still in the engine section of the rocket!”
“Godammit!” I hear him yell, “ who is the little ^%$#@!?” I turn a little switch.
“It’s Shera, Captain. Don’t mind me, go ahead with the launch,” “I’ve made my peace” I say to myself. My mind is set and I won’t have it any other way.
“Shera!? What’re you still doing in there?”
I tap some buttons and red numbers come to life in front of my face, “I was still concerned.” I gestured towards the numbers despite his inability to see them from the cockpit, “The results of the oxygen tank weren’t satisfactory.”
“You stupid little bitch! It’s gonna get so hot in there that there ain’t gonna be S*%+ left when we blast off! You’re gonna die! You know that, doncha?” He’s starting to panic. I can hear it in his voice, so I forgive the language. I fiddle around some more.
“I don’t mind.” I hope I sound convincing, “If I can just fix this, the launch will be a success. I’m almost done.”
“Almost done?!” I hear him shriek, “You’re gonna die!”
I snort. That was a fact I had come to terms with already. Suddenly, alarms come on. I hear another voice, “Cid! We must start the countdown. We won’t make it if we don’t!”
“Starting engine!”
Again, the swearing starts, “Hey, wait a minute! Shera’s still in here!”
The engineer asks, “What are you going to do, Cid? If we cancel now, it’ll be another six months until the next launch!” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
“GOODAMMIT, Shera…you wanna make me a murderer?!” I finish with one oxygen tank.
“Captain!” I yell.
“Shera?!”
“Tank number 7 check is complete. Once I complete tank number 8, it’s all clear.”
“Come on, Shera…hurry up…you’re going to die…”
“Thirty seconds until ignition. Beginning countdown.”
“Hey, wait a minute! Shera’s still in here!” My face softens, but my hands continue to work. He really does care. What he fails to understand is that he brought this love for this project to me and that I would give up just as much as he would to see the Shinra 26 into space. He had already clearly stated countless times how this would be THE moment in his life, and how he would risk his life just for the chance to pilot a spaceship into space. And it’s not just the project I care for either. Cid…has become dear to me. There’s no stopping me anymore, it’s too late anyways. Unless Cid decides to stop the rocket from lifting off.
I wish he would not take such pain in this, but I have no more words of comfort for him. His voice comes through again.
“What…what am I…what am I supposed to do…?
“Fifteen seconds until ignition. Internal temperature rising.” And yet, the oxygen tank is not yet done. If only one malfunctions, then the other seven should be able to take over. At least I can rest knowing I’ve done a good job. The best I can do.
“Five seconds until ignition”
“Oh man, the moon…outer space…my dreams…” A tiny whisper from the cockpit.
“Four”
“I wish I could comfort him”
“Three”
“Show him how much I care for him”
“Two”
“He’s got a wonderful dream; it’s going to come true.”
“One”
“And now, that dream has become mine.”
B…L…A…S…T… O…F…F…