The Weight of the Stars, page 13
“Because this is important to me—to her,” Ryann quickly corrected.
James’s eyes narrowed at the slip. He tapped his fingers rapidly against the table and bit his lip. You’re going to do this whether I like it or not.
Ryann stared at the words on James’s phone and didn’t say anything. She bounced Charlie on her lap. “If…,” she started slowly, “… you tell me no, I will respect that and stand by my word not to go. But I can’t promise that no one else will go, and I can’t promise that I won’t stop trying to help her get these transmissions.”
James bit his lip harder. What does this mean to you?
Ryann looked up and met his eyes. “I just want to be good to her. While I can,” she said quietly.
James nodded and got up. He walked over to the pile of boxes he and Ryann had tucked in the corner of the kitchen behind a tarp. He flung the tarp off, grabbed a butter knife off the counter, and began cutting the seals.
The boxes had been sitting there since the accident. Untouched for years. Ryann had gathered their parents’ things together intending to put them into storage or throw them away, but days became weeks and then weeks turned into months, and there they sat.
James seemed too upset to be bothered with handling things gently. He rifled through their mother’s research papers, tossing some of them on the ground. He kept opening boxes and discarding items haphazardly when they didn’t yield what he was searching for. Their mom’s ID badge clattered onto the kitchen floor, but he didn’t even stop to pick it up.
Finally, his fingers closed around a small brown address book.
James crossed the room and stood beside Ryann’s chair. He flipped through the address book, folded it open, handed it to her, and pointed to a name. Then he leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
Another way. Use it wisely.
He picked up Charlie, went into his room, and closed the door.
This letter is intended for Mr. Jiro Takanari who worked in the Engineering and Safety Center at NASA with Dr. Gillie Bird. If he is no longer in this position, please remit this back to sender or forward to his last known address.
Hi Mr. Takanari,
I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Dr. Gillie’s daughter, Ryann. I hope you are doing well.
I am sorry for contacting you out of the blue like this but I feel like you may be able to help me with something. Recently I became acquaintances with a girl named Alexandria Macallough. You may know her as The Uninaut’s Daughter. She has spent a lot of time and effort trying to receive messages from her mom and only has access to basic materials like radio scanners. SCOUT hasn’t given her access to any information and she really deserves to have at least something. My mom mentioned that you had been monitoring this mission, but I don’t know how much information you were able to get. It was also a very long time ago, and I understand if it’s no longer relevant to what you’re working on now.
I just wanted to reach out and find out if you have any resources, or can point me in the direction of someone who does.
I know we haven’t ever spoken, but I remember you being good friends with my mom. I hope that’s enough for you to at least consider it.
As you may know, I am the sole provider for my brother, James, and we are caring for a one-year-old boy. We have been attending school, but winter break just started and I would really like to use the free time to work on this.
Thank you for your consideration,
Ryann Bird
Dear Ryann Bird,
There are few things left in this world that could have surprised me more than receiving this letter. I remember your mother fondly and am pleased to hear that you and your brother are doing well.
I was unaware that Mr. Macallough moved to the area. However, I am very surprised that SCOUT has withheld data from the next of kin of their cohort. I do not believe that they would do so unless there were some extenuating circumstances. I am sure you will be able to explain in more detail at a later date.
It is very interesting to hear that you have been following the first Odyssey mission. NASA is a direct competitor with SCOUT but our research division has been following the mission as well. I’m certain that you’ve heard all the recordings Mr. Macallough has and I am limited by what I am authorized to share with the public, but if you are interested we have intercepted a full gallery of all the images sent back from the ship.
I would be happy to see you and your brother(s?) during your winter break.
Let me know when you are available to come by.
I am looking forward to making your acquaintance again after all this time and it gives me great joy to see you following in your mother’s footsteps in regards to your interest in space exploration.
Jiro Takanari
Mr. Takanari,
Thank you so much! I didn’t expect to get a response!
I wanted to ask you something about the Odyssey archive. Is there any way that me and some of my friends can come as well to see what you have from it? Mr. Macallough doesn’t have more than ten or so recordings and no pictures at all. Until recently, they were using some basic radio equipment to record what they can, and only when either of them are awake and available to monitor for messages.
It would mean the world to my friend Alexandria if she could get to hear more than she’s had access to.
If it’s too much, I understand.
Thank you for your time,
Ryann Bird
Dear Ryann,
As this is a military facility, the center is not open to the public. Additionally, the research lab dedicated to monitoring and archiving data from the mission is an internal department. I will only be able to get visitors’ rights for you and your siblings as next of kin of former staff. Additionally, you will be unable to take or record anything while you are visiting.
I hope you understand.
Jiro Takanari
Mr. Takanari,
I do, thank you.
Ryann Bird
4 DAYS
The Bird siblings rode nearly an hour to the NASA base on the back of Ryann’s bike. Ryann was wearing the only non-black clothing she owned—a gray T-shirt and blue jeans. She’d combed her short hair and pulled it into a tight bun. James watched her with curious dark eyes as she ran around getting ready. He’d opted to arrive as he was. This wasn’t an important day for him.
When they pulled up to the front gate, they showed their IDs to the armed guard and were fingerprinted before they were allowed into the parking lot.
Standing at the front gate was a tall elderly man with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for them.
Ryann parked as close to the gate as she could.
Mr. Takanari watched them calmly as they approached, Ryann nervous with her helmet tucked under her arm, James cold and curious as he’d been that entire morning.
“You’re taller than when I last saw you,” Mr. Takanari said, his eyes crinkling warmly. “You both look so much like Gillie.”
“Hi,” Ryann said bashfully. Mr. Takanari glanced over her shoulder at James. To Ryann’s surprise, James signed hello and then motioned to his ear, shrugging.
“I see. I am sorry,” Mr. Takanari said, clearly assuming that James lost his hearing in the accident that claimed their parents. Ryann was scandalized.
“Please follow me. I’m sure you’re both excited,” he said finally, and he began making his way through the security gate.
As soon as Mr. Takanari’s back was turned, Ryann whipped around to glare at James.
“You’re not deaf,” she mouthed. “That’s rude.”
James looked at her dryly. “Easier,” he mouthed back, then snapped twice and pointed. Mr. Takanari was getting farther away from them so Ryann jogged to keep up.
10 MINUTES
They went through two sets of metal detectors and had their belongings tagged and stored before they were allowed in. James looked irritated at having to relinquish his phone, but since he’d lied about knowing sign language to Mr. Takanari, he just had to deal with it.
Ryann was privately pleased that she didn’t have to carry her helmet the whole time, but James’s irritation put a damper on that. She squeezed his shoulder and nodded at him sympathetically. They followed Mr. Takanari down the hall to a set of elevators.
“The last time we met, you were here working on a diorama. Did you ever manage to finish it?” Mr. Takanari asked kindly.
“Eventually.” Ryann smiled. She had been working on a Science Fair project freshman year of high school and had taken a field trip to her mom’s office to finish it.
“That’s good to hear,” Mr. Takanari said. “You always seemed so interested in your mother’s work. I was more than a little concerned about what had happened to you after the accident. You know, in that way where you know that you will never know, of course. But you always were at the very back of my mind.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
They left the elevators and followed Mr. Takanari down a long hallway, past a few glass-walled offices filled with people. The closer they got to her mother’s former office, the more familiar everything looked—the posters on the wall and even some of the faces passing. No one stopped them or said hello, but it was nice all the same.
“We remodeled a bit but things should look pretty much the same,” Mr. Takanari said over his shoulder.
“They do,” Ryann said quietly.
“This way.” Mr. Takanari led them down a quiet corridor and through a series of open offices into a dark room with a screen that was so wide it nearly touched both walls. He spread his fingers across it and moved icons around, pulling up digital files and arranging them into a slideshow and audio queue.
“I was able to make a little presentation before you came,” Mr. Takanari said. “We have pictures from the launch day all the way up to last week when they reached Haumea’s orbit.”
“You don’t have any audio files, though,” Ryann said.
Mr. Takanari looked over his shoulder. “It is not a question of whether we have them. We do. It is a question of whether we are allowed to show them to the public. We are not. You see, this information does not belong to us. We are able to receive it because there is no way for SCOUT to prevent that. However, we do not own it and therefore we cannot distribute it the way we usually do. This information is not in the public domain, it belongs to SCOUT, and it can only be given out by SCOUT. The images, however, are under a different sort of federal regulation license and are in the public domain, unlike research data or personal transmissions, so luckily I am able to share them with you.”
He clicked a few tabs on the screen, then clapped the lights off.
THE UNINAUTS
The first pictures were of the Uninauts hanging out with one another. The girls looked incredibly young and very excited, but all fifteen of them had the same incredibly tense look in their eyes. Alexandria’s mom looked strikingly similar to Alexandria; the jut of her chin and the tightness of her jaw were the same. James glanced over at Ryann, his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“They were only seventeen or eighteen. About your age,” Mr. Takanari said, stroking his chin. “Very brave, all of them.”
The images shifted to launch photos and eventually to snaps of the Earth pulling away from them. Next, there was the moon and a few more silly pictures of the Uninauts, but as they flew past Mars’s orbit, the photographs took on a significantly more academic feel. More images of different angles, close-ups and zoomed-in parts of Jupiter.
James’s hand tightened in Ryann’s grip as he watched. She understood. He didn’t really care for science, he liked literature and history. This was probably the first time he’d seen pictures like these.
As they neared Pluto’s orbit, the images shifted to zoomed-in pictures of the stars and far away images of the sun. There were a few more images of the Uninauts peppered in, but fewer than before. They all looked much more serious and the pictures were more like portraits than candids. It gave Ryann an eerie feeling. Like they were trying to document themselves in the same way as they were documenting the stars.
Mr. Takanari watched Ryann and James watch the presentation until it ended, and then he turned on the light.
“You both look like you could use a cup of tea,” he said. James was looking hard at the ground, his ears lightly pink. He let go of Ryann’s hand.
“Yes,” Ryann’s voice cracked. “Yes, thank you.”
35 MINUTES
The cafeteria was surprisingly sparsely populated. Most of the staff seemed to be buying lunch and taking it with them instead of sitting at any of the tables.
Mr. Takanari left them at a table by the window and went to get their drinks. Ryann couldn’t see anything but waving grass and fields of corn as far as her vision stretched. James had shaken off the melancholy he’d had and was doing the face he made when he was trying to see the best in something.
Ryann reached over and covered his hand with hers. He startled, but then he curled his palm over so they were holding hands again.
Mr. Takanari came back and placed three steaming cups of black tea on the table. He pushed a small piece of chocolate cake toward each of them and sat down. “How did you like the slideshow?”
Ryann couldn’t quite find words to describe it.
Mr. Takanari didn’t look surprised. “How much do you know about the mission?”
“I did a project on it, then Alexandria told me about it. I know as much as I could find out myself, I guess.”
“I see,” Mr. Takanari said. “Did your mother talk to you about it?”
“A bit, but I can’t remember that much,” Ryann admitted.
“When we first met, I was sure you would find yourself working here someday,” Mr. Takanari said. “You were always running around asking questions and getting into things, and everybody used to tell your mom to stop complaining about it ‘because she had a little scientist on her hands.’ All she wanted was for you to sit down and read a book like James. What happened?”
Ryann shifted uncomfortably, but then she saw the grin tucked into the side of James’s mouth and it made her feel a bit lighter.
“I’m still interested,” she replied. “But I’m busy these days. I have a lot of responsibilities and I don’t have the time to focus on anything that isn’t a sure thing.”
Mr. Takanari frowned.
“I’m sorry if that’s disappointing to hear,” Ryann said.
“I see. Well. If you’re interested, I can tell you a bit about what happened, so you have something to take back to your friend.”
“That’s … thank you.”
Mr. Takanari nodded and sat back in his chair, wrapping his large wrinkled hands around his cup. “Your mother supported the idea at first. They were picking people from all over the world and she said something very beautiful about it, if I remember correctly. She said, ‘Diversity is a flower that blooms with greater beauty and greater strength each time it is cross-pollinated.’ And I believe she was right.”
THE LEGEND
“The issue wasn’t the mission, or anything like that. It was more about the backlash,” Mr. Takanari continued.
“Before NASA was absorbed by the U.S. military, it was an incredibly difficult time politically. Our military had the largest budget in the world and we had nothing. The work we did was of interest for international trade agreements, and we found ourselves in a good position to bargain for a merger.
“We received an incredible amount of funding and resources, and in exchange we tarnished our social positioning within the global scientific community. We ‘sold out’ as it was. As you can see, the lasting effects of that barely scratched our day-to-day operations—we just have more security and better coffee—but back then it was absolutely scandalous.” Mr. Takanari shook his head on that last word, like it pained him to say it. Then he continued.
“As an effect of this, SCOUT arose from our ashes. They were a brand-new company with a hotshot young founder who was radically invested in rebranding space exploration as a bohemian, stateless activity for the betterment of all mankind.
“He was personable and he made good, reasonable points and he really energized people about the idea of becoming pioneers. His global interest made him popular in the international scientific community and he received an incredible amount of support—both socially and financially.”
Mr. Takanari stopped to take a few sips of his tea, then cleared his throat hard.
“It was a disaster from the beginning. No one could get much information from them about their company and how they were doing. SCOUT was very shiny on the outside but intensely private—and they had a right to be. They were privately owned, unlike NASA, where we share everything, like you really should. Everything about SCOUT was dramatically different from all other space exploration programs, but they were so confident, that people sort of nodded and accepted it.
“Even the launch was shiny, and we were all so terribly impressed that he’d managed to pull the whole thing off. But when the news broke about … your unfortunate friend and her … incredibly unfortunate mother, it didn’t surprise much of anyone here. Of course it surprised everyone outside, but here in this office, in this community, it just seemed almost right. Something had to go wrong, it always does with space travel. At least it was this and not an explosion.”
James glanced at Ryann curiously, but she shook her head.
“Your mother was incredibly upset. But there wasn’t anything anyone could do. You can’t barge into SCOUT’s office and demand they drag their own rockets down from the sky.” Mr. Takanari waved his hand angrily. “We did try to petition that they be shut down, but that never went anywhere. You tell your friend that we did try.”
Ryann nodded. “What happened next?”
Mr. Takanari finished his tea and pushed the cup toward the middle of the table. “Hmm. After the petition went nowhere, we all appealed to the United Nations to draw up a series of accords that governed space exploration companies, requiring that certain information be made available within the international scientific community and additional safety and ethical measures must be decided upon by an international ethics committee. It was not the best outcome, but it was an outcome that improved things for the future. Your mother was very proud of it.”
James’s eyes narrowed at the slip. He tapped his fingers rapidly against the table and bit his lip. You’re going to do this whether I like it or not.
Ryann stared at the words on James’s phone and didn’t say anything. She bounced Charlie on her lap. “If…,” she started slowly, “… you tell me no, I will respect that and stand by my word not to go. But I can’t promise that no one else will go, and I can’t promise that I won’t stop trying to help her get these transmissions.”
James bit his lip harder. What does this mean to you?
Ryann looked up and met his eyes. “I just want to be good to her. While I can,” she said quietly.
James nodded and got up. He walked over to the pile of boxes he and Ryann had tucked in the corner of the kitchen behind a tarp. He flung the tarp off, grabbed a butter knife off the counter, and began cutting the seals.
The boxes had been sitting there since the accident. Untouched for years. Ryann had gathered their parents’ things together intending to put them into storage or throw them away, but days became weeks and then weeks turned into months, and there they sat.
James seemed too upset to be bothered with handling things gently. He rifled through their mother’s research papers, tossing some of them on the ground. He kept opening boxes and discarding items haphazardly when they didn’t yield what he was searching for. Their mom’s ID badge clattered onto the kitchen floor, but he didn’t even stop to pick it up.
Finally, his fingers closed around a small brown address book.
James crossed the room and stood beside Ryann’s chair. He flipped through the address book, folded it open, handed it to her, and pointed to a name. Then he leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
Another way. Use it wisely.
He picked up Charlie, went into his room, and closed the door.
This letter is intended for Mr. Jiro Takanari who worked in the Engineering and Safety Center at NASA with Dr. Gillie Bird. If he is no longer in this position, please remit this back to sender or forward to his last known address.
Hi Mr. Takanari,
I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Dr. Gillie’s daughter, Ryann. I hope you are doing well.
I am sorry for contacting you out of the blue like this but I feel like you may be able to help me with something. Recently I became acquaintances with a girl named Alexandria Macallough. You may know her as The Uninaut’s Daughter. She has spent a lot of time and effort trying to receive messages from her mom and only has access to basic materials like radio scanners. SCOUT hasn’t given her access to any information and she really deserves to have at least something. My mom mentioned that you had been monitoring this mission, but I don’t know how much information you were able to get. It was also a very long time ago, and I understand if it’s no longer relevant to what you’re working on now.
I just wanted to reach out and find out if you have any resources, or can point me in the direction of someone who does.
I know we haven’t ever spoken, but I remember you being good friends with my mom. I hope that’s enough for you to at least consider it.
As you may know, I am the sole provider for my brother, James, and we are caring for a one-year-old boy. We have been attending school, but winter break just started and I would really like to use the free time to work on this.
Thank you for your consideration,
Ryann Bird
Dear Ryann Bird,
There are few things left in this world that could have surprised me more than receiving this letter. I remember your mother fondly and am pleased to hear that you and your brother are doing well.
I was unaware that Mr. Macallough moved to the area. However, I am very surprised that SCOUT has withheld data from the next of kin of their cohort. I do not believe that they would do so unless there were some extenuating circumstances. I am sure you will be able to explain in more detail at a later date.
It is very interesting to hear that you have been following the first Odyssey mission. NASA is a direct competitor with SCOUT but our research division has been following the mission as well. I’m certain that you’ve heard all the recordings Mr. Macallough has and I am limited by what I am authorized to share with the public, but if you are interested we have intercepted a full gallery of all the images sent back from the ship.
I would be happy to see you and your brother(s?) during your winter break.
Let me know when you are available to come by.
I am looking forward to making your acquaintance again after all this time and it gives me great joy to see you following in your mother’s footsteps in regards to your interest in space exploration.
Jiro Takanari
Mr. Takanari,
Thank you so much! I didn’t expect to get a response!
I wanted to ask you something about the Odyssey archive. Is there any way that me and some of my friends can come as well to see what you have from it? Mr. Macallough doesn’t have more than ten or so recordings and no pictures at all. Until recently, they were using some basic radio equipment to record what they can, and only when either of them are awake and available to monitor for messages.
It would mean the world to my friend Alexandria if she could get to hear more than she’s had access to.
If it’s too much, I understand.
Thank you for your time,
Ryann Bird
Dear Ryann,
As this is a military facility, the center is not open to the public. Additionally, the research lab dedicated to monitoring and archiving data from the mission is an internal department. I will only be able to get visitors’ rights for you and your siblings as next of kin of former staff. Additionally, you will be unable to take or record anything while you are visiting.
I hope you understand.
Jiro Takanari
Mr. Takanari,
I do, thank you.
Ryann Bird
4 DAYS
The Bird siblings rode nearly an hour to the NASA base on the back of Ryann’s bike. Ryann was wearing the only non-black clothing she owned—a gray T-shirt and blue jeans. She’d combed her short hair and pulled it into a tight bun. James watched her with curious dark eyes as she ran around getting ready. He’d opted to arrive as he was. This wasn’t an important day for him.
When they pulled up to the front gate, they showed their IDs to the armed guard and were fingerprinted before they were allowed into the parking lot.
Standing at the front gate was a tall elderly man with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for them.
Ryann parked as close to the gate as she could.
Mr. Takanari watched them calmly as they approached, Ryann nervous with her helmet tucked under her arm, James cold and curious as he’d been that entire morning.
“You’re taller than when I last saw you,” Mr. Takanari said, his eyes crinkling warmly. “You both look so much like Gillie.”
“Hi,” Ryann said bashfully. Mr. Takanari glanced over her shoulder at James. To Ryann’s surprise, James signed hello and then motioned to his ear, shrugging.
“I see. I am sorry,” Mr. Takanari said, clearly assuming that James lost his hearing in the accident that claimed their parents. Ryann was scandalized.
“Please follow me. I’m sure you’re both excited,” he said finally, and he began making his way through the security gate.
As soon as Mr. Takanari’s back was turned, Ryann whipped around to glare at James.
“You’re not deaf,” she mouthed. “That’s rude.”
James looked at her dryly. “Easier,” he mouthed back, then snapped twice and pointed. Mr. Takanari was getting farther away from them so Ryann jogged to keep up.
10 MINUTES
They went through two sets of metal detectors and had their belongings tagged and stored before they were allowed in. James looked irritated at having to relinquish his phone, but since he’d lied about knowing sign language to Mr. Takanari, he just had to deal with it.
Ryann was privately pleased that she didn’t have to carry her helmet the whole time, but James’s irritation put a damper on that. She squeezed his shoulder and nodded at him sympathetically. They followed Mr. Takanari down the hall to a set of elevators.
“The last time we met, you were here working on a diorama. Did you ever manage to finish it?” Mr. Takanari asked kindly.
“Eventually.” Ryann smiled. She had been working on a Science Fair project freshman year of high school and had taken a field trip to her mom’s office to finish it.
“That’s good to hear,” Mr. Takanari said. “You always seemed so interested in your mother’s work. I was more than a little concerned about what had happened to you after the accident. You know, in that way where you know that you will never know, of course. But you always were at the very back of my mind.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
They left the elevators and followed Mr. Takanari down a long hallway, past a few glass-walled offices filled with people. The closer they got to her mother’s former office, the more familiar everything looked—the posters on the wall and even some of the faces passing. No one stopped them or said hello, but it was nice all the same.
“We remodeled a bit but things should look pretty much the same,” Mr. Takanari said over his shoulder.
“They do,” Ryann said quietly.
“This way.” Mr. Takanari led them down a quiet corridor and through a series of open offices into a dark room with a screen that was so wide it nearly touched both walls. He spread his fingers across it and moved icons around, pulling up digital files and arranging them into a slideshow and audio queue.
“I was able to make a little presentation before you came,” Mr. Takanari said. “We have pictures from the launch day all the way up to last week when they reached Haumea’s orbit.”
“You don’t have any audio files, though,” Ryann said.
Mr. Takanari looked over his shoulder. “It is not a question of whether we have them. We do. It is a question of whether we are allowed to show them to the public. We are not. You see, this information does not belong to us. We are able to receive it because there is no way for SCOUT to prevent that. However, we do not own it and therefore we cannot distribute it the way we usually do. This information is not in the public domain, it belongs to SCOUT, and it can only be given out by SCOUT. The images, however, are under a different sort of federal regulation license and are in the public domain, unlike research data or personal transmissions, so luckily I am able to share them with you.”
He clicked a few tabs on the screen, then clapped the lights off.
THE UNINAUTS
The first pictures were of the Uninauts hanging out with one another. The girls looked incredibly young and very excited, but all fifteen of them had the same incredibly tense look in their eyes. Alexandria’s mom looked strikingly similar to Alexandria; the jut of her chin and the tightness of her jaw were the same. James glanced over at Ryann, his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“They were only seventeen or eighteen. About your age,” Mr. Takanari said, stroking his chin. “Very brave, all of them.”
The images shifted to launch photos and eventually to snaps of the Earth pulling away from them. Next, there was the moon and a few more silly pictures of the Uninauts, but as they flew past Mars’s orbit, the photographs took on a significantly more academic feel. More images of different angles, close-ups and zoomed-in parts of Jupiter.
James’s hand tightened in Ryann’s grip as he watched. She understood. He didn’t really care for science, he liked literature and history. This was probably the first time he’d seen pictures like these.
As they neared Pluto’s orbit, the images shifted to zoomed-in pictures of the stars and far away images of the sun. There were a few more images of the Uninauts peppered in, but fewer than before. They all looked much more serious and the pictures were more like portraits than candids. It gave Ryann an eerie feeling. Like they were trying to document themselves in the same way as they were documenting the stars.
Mr. Takanari watched Ryann and James watch the presentation until it ended, and then he turned on the light.
“You both look like you could use a cup of tea,” he said. James was looking hard at the ground, his ears lightly pink. He let go of Ryann’s hand.
“Yes,” Ryann’s voice cracked. “Yes, thank you.”
35 MINUTES
The cafeteria was surprisingly sparsely populated. Most of the staff seemed to be buying lunch and taking it with them instead of sitting at any of the tables.
Mr. Takanari left them at a table by the window and went to get their drinks. Ryann couldn’t see anything but waving grass and fields of corn as far as her vision stretched. James had shaken off the melancholy he’d had and was doing the face he made when he was trying to see the best in something.
Ryann reached over and covered his hand with hers. He startled, but then he curled his palm over so they were holding hands again.
Mr. Takanari came back and placed three steaming cups of black tea on the table. He pushed a small piece of chocolate cake toward each of them and sat down. “How did you like the slideshow?”
Ryann couldn’t quite find words to describe it.
Mr. Takanari didn’t look surprised. “How much do you know about the mission?”
“I did a project on it, then Alexandria told me about it. I know as much as I could find out myself, I guess.”
“I see,” Mr. Takanari said. “Did your mother talk to you about it?”
“A bit, but I can’t remember that much,” Ryann admitted.
“When we first met, I was sure you would find yourself working here someday,” Mr. Takanari said. “You were always running around asking questions and getting into things, and everybody used to tell your mom to stop complaining about it ‘because she had a little scientist on her hands.’ All she wanted was for you to sit down and read a book like James. What happened?”
Ryann shifted uncomfortably, but then she saw the grin tucked into the side of James’s mouth and it made her feel a bit lighter.
“I’m still interested,” she replied. “But I’m busy these days. I have a lot of responsibilities and I don’t have the time to focus on anything that isn’t a sure thing.”
Mr. Takanari frowned.
“I’m sorry if that’s disappointing to hear,” Ryann said.
“I see. Well. If you’re interested, I can tell you a bit about what happened, so you have something to take back to your friend.”
“That’s … thank you.”
Mr. Takanari nodded and sat back in his chair, wrapping his large wrinkled hands around his cup. “Your mother supported the idea at first. They were picking people from all over the world and she said something very beautiful about it, if I remember correctly. She said, ‘Diversity is a flower that blooms with greater beauty and greater strength each time it is cross-pollinated.’ And I believe she was right.”
THE LEGEND
“The issue wasn’t the mission, or anything like that. It was more about the backlash,” Mr. Takanari continued.
“Before NASA was absorbed by the U.S. military, it was an incredibly difficult time politically. Our military had the largest budget in the world and we had nothing. The work we did was of interest for international trade agreements, and we found ourselves in a good position to bargain for a merger.
“We received an incredible amount of funding and resources, and in exchange we tarnished our social positioning within the global scientific community. We ‘sold out’ as it was. As you can see, the lasting effects of that barely scratched our day-to-day operations—we just have more security and better coffee—but back then it was absolutely scandalous.” Mr. Takanari shook his head on that last word, like it pained him to say it. Then he continued.
“As an effect of this, SCOUT arose from our ashes. They were a brand-new company with a hotshot young founder who was radically invested in rebranding space exploration as a bohemian, stateless activity for the betterment of all mankind.
“He was personable and he made good, reasonable points and he really energized people about the idea of becoming pioneers. His global interest made him popular in the international scientific community and he received an incredible amount of support—both socially and financially.”
Mr. Takanari stopped to take a few sips of his tea, then cleared his throat hard.
“It was a disaster from the beginning. No one could get much information from them about their company and how they were doing. SCOUT was very shiny on the outside but intensely private—and they had a right to be. They were privately owned, unlike NASA, where we share everything, like you really should. Everything about SCOUT was dramatically different from all other space exploration programs, but they were so confident, that people sort of nodded and accepted it.
“Even the launch was shiny, and we were all so terribly impressed that he’d managed to pull the whole thing off. But when the news broke about … your unfortunate friend and her … incredibly unfortunate mother, it didn’t surprise much of anyone here. Of course it surprised everyone outside, but here in this office, in this community, it just seemed almost right. Something had to go wrong, it always does with space travel. At least it was this and not an explosion.”
James glanced at Ryann curiously, but she shook her head.
“Your mother was incredibly upset. But there wasn’t anything anyone could do. You can’t barge into SCOUT’s office and demand they drag their own rockets down from the sky.” Mr. Takanari waved his hand angrily. “We did try to petition that they be shut down, but that never went anywhere. You tell your friend that we did try.”
Ryann nodded. “What happened next?”
Mr. Takanari finished his tea and pushed the cup toward the middle of the table. “Hmm. After the petition went nowhere, we all appealed to the United Nations to draw up a series of accords that governed space exploration companies, requiring that certain information be made available within the international scientific community and additional safety and ethical measures must be decided upon by an international ethics committee. It was not the best outcome, but it was an outcome that improved things for the future. Your mother was very proud of it.”
