Sunday, November 16, 2014
Truth and Beauty 3-3
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Half an hour later he was showing his ID at the Navy Yard gate, and ten minutes after that he was boarding a wherry for the victualing wharf. He strapped himself into his seat, put on the headphones given to him by the wherryman, and selected the Yard’s traffic departure control channel to listen to as a sort of background to his jumbled thoughts.
“Seven-victor-X-ray, seven-two-niner. You are clear for take-off path delta-three-two-seven.”
“Seven-victor-X-ray, seven-two-niner, delta-three-two-seven, ten-four.”
“Alpha-quebec, seven-seven-niner. Proceed next in queue for departure.”
“-lpha-quebec, seven-seven-niner. Next in queue, ten-four.”
“Alpha-quebec, seven-seven-niner. You are clear for take-off path beta-one-one-four.”
“-lpha-quebec, seven-seven-niner beta-one-one-four ten-four.”
“Zulu-sierra, six-three-seven. Proceed next in queue for departure.”
The wherry shook slightly as the pushback tractor engaged, then shook again as the wherry’s grounding clamp detached and retracted, and they were in motion, trundling across the cracked tarmac to one of the launch pads. Through the windows Jack watched the slow dance of the Yard traffic, dark shapes with flashing lights gliding between the steady beacons that marked the taxiways. In spite of it all, a smile found its way to his lips: he was going back to space.
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