Chuckling, he closes his own locker door. “Yeah, you’re right. I won’t.”
Ricky is a damn good diver, that’s how he made dive specialist at NASA, and he’s a pretty good swimmer. But he has yet to beat me.
Whenever I have time, I come to the NBL and swim laps. It started my first year at NASA when I was low man on the totem pole, learning the ropes during an EVA practice run in the pool.
Only select personnel are allowed in the water. Basically, astronauts and dive instructors/specialists. But after some good-natured trash talk, and Ricky recognizing me from my swimming days, I’m one of the few who can dip their toes in the NBL pool.
A few minutes later, my hands slice through the water, fingers spaced eight millimeters apart to increase the drag coefficient, propelling me forward. I’m wearing fins, as I always do. It isn’t required at NBL, but I like to use them as they reduce the kick rate by forty percent. Fewer kicks equal less splash. Less splash means a better view of the fascinating sight below.
And that sight is a life-size mock-up of the International Space Station, resting at the bottom of the forty-foot-deep pool.
Head down at a forty-five-degree angle, goggles on, I can pretend as I pass over the International Space Station below. Pretend that I’m an astronaut floating through the infinite vastness of space, doing my part to further man’s knowledge of his place in the world.
It’s the highlight of my week.
Or at least it was until Trish moved into my garage.
At the edge of the pool, I make the turn, passing Ricky on my way back. He flips me off under water, making me smile for a moment before Trish invades my mind again.
The woman is still living in her trailer. I haven’t seen her much. Just her hand as she waves to me from her window when I leave for work in the morning.
I have a huge house with plenty of space, modern amenities and conveniences, and Trish chooses to live in my garage.
It isn’t until the next turn, when the view beneath me ripples, that I realize Ricky’s caught up. Now Trish doesn’t have to be in the room to distract me; just the thought of her is enough.
Focusing on the conversation with my father and the upcoming black-tie event where I’ll have to do battle, I kick harder, the extra propulsion sending me farther and farther away from Ricky until I hit the wall.
“Damn it, Kincaid.” Ricky huffs, his arms crossed on the edge of the pool. “I thought for sure I had you.”
I laugh. “Dream on.” A few of my fellow EVA officers walk onto the floor, pushing along a cart of space suits. “Who’s going in today?” Whether running through a specific spacewalk or generic training for space flight, the NBL usually gets at least six hours of NASA-driven use every day.
In one smooth move, Rick hoists himself out of the pool and twists to sit on the coping, legs dangling in the water. “Some of the new class. Can’t remember which. I’m not diving with them.”
I follow suit and unhook my fins.
“Kincaid!” Rick and I both look up to see Vance Bodeaway jogging over. “What are you doing here?”
“Kicking this guy’s ass.” I hit Rick on the shoulder with one of my fins.
Bodie eyes Rick. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Hardy-har-har.” Rick gets up, shaking out the water from his ears. “Catch you later, assholes.”
I nod at him before he turns away. “See ya, man.” Tilting my head, I direct my attention back to Bodie. “What’s up?”
He holds out his hand, helping me up. “I got a question for you.”
“Shoot.” My mind starts replaying the different procedures for Space Walk Sphinx, the EVA I’m leading to make all remaining external wires on the International Space Station internal. A preventive measure I felt was necessary after space junk hit the ISS a few months back. Bodie is scheduled as lead on that particular EVA.
“You got a date to Jackie’s wedding?”
“Man, I’m honored a man of your prestige would consider me, but I’ll have to politely decline.” I run a hand back and forth through my hair, setting off a shower of water. “You’re a great guy and—”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I smirk at his confused expression. “So youweren’tasking me to go to Jackie’s wedding with you?”
He barks out a laugh. “Jesus, no.” He shakes his head, still amused. “I like to be the only Y chromosome carrier in the relationship.”