Page 6 of Supernova

“Hey, baby,” Ed says, letting his hand snake beneath the covers and find Frankie’s lushly rounded hip. He slips his palm over the satiny fabric and jiggles her lightly. Frankie does not respond. “Sweetheart,” Ed whispers, scooting closer so that he’s wrapped around his wife’s body like a single parenthesis around an important word. “Are you awake?”

He tries this move roughly once a week, and his success rate is about the same as the Pittsburgh Pirates--which is to say that it's not very successful at all.

Frankie stirs as Ed moves his hand from her hip and lets it drift around to the soft swell of her belly. He loves the way his wife’s entire body is smoothed and rounded. Each curve of her feels like home.

“Can I kiss you, Francesca?” Ed whispers as he puts his lips to the back of her neck and nuzzles her hair. He is ever hopeful that she’ll turn around in his arms when he does this, meeting him in the dark and showing him that she wants what he wants; that she feels this same need to connect and to be one, but she rarely does. When they'd first gotten married Frankie had tried, and sometimes he felt like she was only going through the motions for his benefit, but at least she'd welcomed him into her arms. Lately, she hasn't been receptive to his gentle advances at all, and this is hard for Ed. He kisses her neck again, desperately hoping for a tiny glimmer of desire to spark between them.

Instead of responding, Frankie’s body goes limp in his arms and she does not turn around. Ed pulls back, disappointed. He won’t beg, and he won’t be a nuisance to his wife—that’s not the kind of man he is. He’ll wait patiently until she wants him as much as he wants her, even if it kills him.

Ed flips over onto his back and puts one arm over his eyes. He breathes deeply and counts backward from 500, praying for sleep.

"Sir," Ed says the next morning, stopping just short of a salute as he greets Arvin North in the hallway at the newly-christened Cape Kennedy.

"Maxwell." Arvin North is a bit like the Wizard of Oz to the men of the space program: he wields unseen powers, and is almost a total enigma. To Ed, Arvin North is just as intimidating as any drill sergeant he's ever met. "Speak to you for a moment?"

"Yes, sir," Ed says, following North into his office. The door closes solidly behind Ed and he waits to be asked to sit.

Arvin North nods at a chair absentmindedly. "Good news," North says once they're both settled. He steeples his hands in front of his chin, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. Ed can see a smudge on one lens of North's thick glasses. "I've been asked to select one of my men to go to Seattle and join the crew at Boeing for a series of tests. I'd like you to go."

Ed's heart flips in his chest and he fights the urge to put his hand over it. "Me? Seattle, sir?"

Arvin leans forward, scooting his chair closer to the desk as he reaches for a manila file. He opens it and drops it on the desk with a slap. "Yes. I see that you've got some very specificexperience, most recently with the SERE program." He looks up at Ed, obviously waiting to hear more about this.

Ed clears his throat. "I do. Prior to coming to NASA, I was career Air Force, sir. I helped to implement the program, which, as you know, stands for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape, as a special training for military aircrew who might find themselves held hostage or in extreme conditions." He pauses here.

Arvin North has clearly worked with many, many military men in his career, and he says these next words carefully: "You were a POW yourself."

Ed feels his throat constrict; the best he can manage is a nod before going on. He inhales deeply. "I was. In Korea. And I learned a lot about survival."

"I would imagine." North gives him a long, respectful look but doesn't ask any questions. "My apologies for putting you on the spot like this without warning, but I'd like to hear more about the way you think that your training and expertise might dovetail nicely with the space program."

Ed is taken aback; he'd come into work this morning expecting nothing more than the usual trainings and meetings. He sits up straighter and wipes both palms down the legs of his gray slacks. "Well, sir. I think that SERE focused intensely on survival and on being put in the harshest conditions imaginable. We also explored the psychological aspect of captivity, and I think that applies to how it must feel to be in space--to some extent. I also think that because a certain amount of danger is inherent to space travel, being prepared for conditions that go beyond what a human normally expects would be highly beneficial." Ed is gesticulating with his hands at this point, the excitement building in him as he realizes just how closely his SERE training parallels what he might experience in space.

Arvin North nods and looks to be deep in thought as he considers Ed’s words. “Right, right,” he says, tapping his fingertips against the top of his desk. “Which was my thought. And I’d really like to see one of my men get involved in this, so I’m offering you the opportunity. You’d spend about a month in Seattle.”

Ed feels lightheaded at being singled out for an opportunity like this one. “Wow, sir, thank you,” he says, separating his hands and then bringing them together again. “I’m honored.”

“Wonderful.” North stands. “I’ll get you more information as soon as I have a file with all the details. We’re about a week away from Christmas, and you’d be expected on the west coast by January third. Does that sound doable?”

Ed gives a single nod. “Absolutely.” If Arvin North had asked him whether he could be on Pluto by January third, his answer would have been yes. “I can make that happen.”

North is quiet for a long moment. “And your wife—the Rockette, right?” The slightest flicker of something passes over Arvin North’s face. It could have been amusement, awe, or curiosity, but he wipes it away as quickly as it appears. “Will she be fine with you being away for a month or more?”

Ed frowns at this. Frankie had known when he signed on for this job that him being gone for an undetermined length of time would potentially be part of the deal. “Of course,” he says, picturing Frankie’s face as he says this. “She’ll be thrilled for me. And she was a Rockette, yes, but now she stays at home.”

Arvin North watches Ed but says nothing for a long moment. “Though it’s none of my business, Maxwell, may I ask whether there are children in the works?”

Ed nearly cracks a grin at North’s wording of the question, but he understands that the man isn’t trying to be funny, just delicate.

Ed clears his throat and runs his thumbnail down the inseam of his pants. “We’d like children,” he says carefully. “We’ve been married three years, and I know Frankie would love to be a mother.”

Arvin North looks at the blotter on his desk and picks at an imaginary fleck of dust there. “I ask not to be intrusive,” he says. “But I do concern myself with my men and their families. I’ve found over the years that if a wife isn’t happy, the chances of a man’s own unhappiness skyrockets. Marital discord goes hand-in-hand with a general sense of well-being, and that extends to the workplace. And, perhaps unfortunately, our workplace requires a man to have his head on straight. We aren’t just a factory that’s cranking out widgets, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, sir.” Ed looks right at Arvin North. “And I will make sure that Frankie is one hundred percent on board before I leave for Seattle. I can promise you that my home life won’t interfere with the way I do my job.”

Arvin North does a slow, pensive nod and looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t. “Well, then congratulations on this appointment,” he says, standing. Ed follows suit, shaking Arvin North’s hand when he extends it across the desk. “I’ll let you get back to the day’s events, and, like I said, more information will be forthcoming.”

“Thank you, sir.” Ed leaves the office before letting his face break into a huge, wide grin. He’s been selected from the pack to do something exciting and important, and it’s going to take all his willpower not to crow about it to the other guys. Part of being an astronaut is the ability to put the team and the mission ahead of yourself, and to exhibit some humility when it’s called for. No, Ed won’t tell the other guys about being asked to go to Boeing, and he’ll make sure that when he tells Frankie, he has a plan in place to ensure that she’s happy and occupied while he's gone.He has a lot to think about, and he needs to keep his wits about him—and to keep his mouth shut about the whole thing.

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