Page 17 of Atmosphere

Joan shook her head. “You’re fine.”

“I heard today is about Apollo 1,” Lydia said.

Joan and Griff both turned to look at her.

“Really?” Griff said.

“Yeah,” Lydia answered.

“Oh, gosh. I’m not sure I…” Joan said.

“You’re not sure what? That you can handle it?” Lydia said. “Because if not, then you should probably leave the program.”

Joan and Griff turned to the front of the room, and as they did, Griff raised his eyebrows at her. But Joan didn’t engage. Lydia was entirely right.

The instructor, a man with a crew cut who, Joan learned, was Jack Katowski, walked to the front of the room.

“It’s important that you understand what’s at stake here,” he said. “For those of you coming from the military, this will be less of a surprise. But for you civilians, this may be the first time in which you have embarked on an endeavor with this magnitude of risk. Going into space is not for the faint of heart. Great men have died in the pursuit of space exploration. If you are not prepared to face the sacrifices that may be required in order to serve this country in this unprecedented undertaking, it is best that you realize that now.”

Joan could hear people shifting in their seats, leaning forward.

“We have lost nine men here at NASA over the last twenty years. All but one during training or testing. Here today, I’d like to talk to you about the weight of what you are signing up for. And I’d like to start by making sure you all understand the significance of the Apollo1 fire.”

Joan looked at Griff and took a deep breath. She felt Lydia’s hand,ever so briefly, on her shoulder. And then it was gone. When Joan turned to acknowledge her, Lydia frowned and gestured for her to pay attention.

“As you are all aware, Apollo 1 was supposed to be the first crewed mission of the Apollo program, originally designated as AS-204. But in January 1967, a fire erupted in the cabin during a launch rehearsal. All three astronauts—Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee—were locked inside. None of them survived. At NASA, we honor the people we have lost by referring to them as being ‘on an eternal mission.’ But please do not let the euphemism soften what happened here—and what you all risk, by being a part of this program.”

He pressed a button. Within seconds, Joan realized he was playing the recorded audio from inside the cabin of Apollo 1.

“Flames!”

“We’ve got a fire in the cockpit. It—”

Every muscle in Joan’s body tensed as she heard a man screaming. And then another and another.

Joan could feel the tension in the room as they listened to the men’s increasingly desperate voices. Joan could hear their movements as they scrambled to get out. She could see it, could feel it. What it must have felt like to be trapped there, knowing they were going to die.

Joan could not get Frances out of her mind. How would Barbara explain it to her if something like that happened to Joan? How might Frances be forever changed by a tragedy like that?

Joan was not afraid to die. She had always felt that she was prepared for the nothingness that awaited her. She was happy, in some ways, to know that her body would decompose. That she would give back to the Earth all she had taken from it.

But Frances.

She might be fine with dying, but she was not fine with leaving Frances.

The transmission ended after only seventeen seconds. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. Joan’s entire body felt heavy, herlegs concrete, her head a magnet pulled to her chest. She could not look at Griff. But when she managed to raise her head, briefly, she saw that he could not look at anyone, either.

“Most of our days here at NASA are good ones. We achieve things once believed to be impossible. But there have been some days that we never see coming. Days that stick with us forever. That may cost some of us our lives. If you cannot accept that this risk lies ahead in all we do here,” Jack said, “now is your chance to make a different choice. To choose a different life for yourself. A safer one.”

The theater was quiet. There was no shuffling of feet. No one fiddled with papers. For a moment, Joan felt a strong sense that this entire undertaking was a mistake. Perhaps humans should not do this. The shuttle was nothing more than a pair of wax wings.

When Joan finally exhaled and looked up, Griff was pinching the bridge of his nose, and Hank was staring straight forward. Donna’s chest visibly rose and fell. Vanessa was so lost in thought, Joan could not even catch her eye.

Then Joan turned to look at Lydia. The color was gone from her face. The two of them looked each other in the eye.Could they do this?Could they really stay here in this room knowing what it might one day mean?

Not a single person left.

Days later, every member ofGroup 9 stood on the tarmac at Ellington Field in front of a fleet of Northrop T-38 Talons—white jet trainers with glass cockpits barely big enough for two people. The T-38s weresupersonic,meaning they could fly faster than the speed of sound. And they could go ten thousand feet higher than a commercial airplane.

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