Authors: Phil Stamper
Shooting Stars
Season 2; Online Content
LIVE UPDATE: Tune in live at 1:15 p.m. (CST) as we interview US Representative Halima Ali, who will discuss her new legislation to halt the government funding of the Orpheus project.
“Good afternoon. I’m
Shooting Stars
host Josh Farrow, and it’s my honor to welcome US Representative Halima Ali from Maryland. You may remember her as the most outspoken opponent of the government’s allocation of funds toward NASA. Congresswoman Ali, it’s good to have you with us today.”
“Thank you for having me. I admit, I was a bit surprised Josh Farrow, of all people, wanted me to come down for this interview.”
“We like to have all sides of the story, and one side of this NASA journey we haven’t touched on much is back in the news. Everyone wants to know, Do you think the government will be pulling funding for the Orpheus project?”
“I certainly hope so. And I don’t mean to be rude—I understand the repercussions of this, but the funds can be put toward so many more important projects.”
“Congresswoman, do you think that space travel is important?”
“I think all forms of exploration are deeply important. It’s gotten us to where we are today. But my constituents don’t have the faith in NASA to use the funding wisely. They’ve shown
this over and over again. I worry—excuse me for saying this, but I think sending six of America’s brightest humans to Mars can only end in disaster.”
“We’ve also been speaking with JET-EX, as you might have seen. What do you think of privately funded space projects? Does that bother you less?”
“I’m always going to think this money could be going somewhere more important. The infrastructure in America is crumbling, and we’re trying to build a base on Mars? Education is severely underfunded; our courts are underfunded. And I swear this isn’t a personal vendetta, but someone has to play devil’s advocate here. Someone has to challenge these rich idealists to make sure they’re not doing it for fame or attention. But can we get back to government funding for a second?”
“Of course.”
“As you have no doubt heard, I’m cosponsoring a bill that would remove a large portion of funding from this project, and the preliminary vote is tomorrow. NASA would still be able to operate, but we won’t be taking such a risk.”
“Interesting—and if that bill passes?”
“It has a good chance of getting through the Senate. I believe that this is our time to put an end to this and leave the exploration to JET-EX or whoever wants to fill their shoes. This wouldn’t result in any large layoffs, and NASA could refocus on things that are affecting our citizens now: climate issues, for example.”
“Well, I want to thank you for coming all the way here on
such short notice. This has been a refreshing conversation, and we at StarWatch will closely monitor the situation. If I may be honest … the way it’s looking, season three of
Shooting Stars
might be taking place at JET-EX headquarters.”
“Dad?” I ask when walking into the house. “Dad!”
It feels weird being the one yelling in the house. I bust into my parents’ bedroom—the door was open, don’t worry—and find him taking a nap in the bed. “Dad!” I shout. “I need your help.”
I briefly explain the situation to him. It takes a few seconds for my plea to register, but something must make sense, because he jumps out of bed and waves me out of the room while dashing to his closet.
Once he’s properly dressed, we get in the car. I roll down the windows, and we fly down the country roads that lead to the space center. When I pass the spot where Leon and I kissed, I feel a pang of guilt in my chest.
We pull into the almost deserted parking lot after Dad flashes his ID. Soon after we park, we break into a sprint.
“I need one person who worked on the satellite,” I say to Dad. “Also, one of the lead astronauts who StarWatch would find too boring to cover, and I’m going to find Brendan to talk about the mission and what happens to their team if it gets canceled.”
Dad flashes a thumbs-up. “On it!”
We break apart, and I bring up Flash’s scheduled video function. I prefer the live, impulsive act of recording something that’s not overrehearsed. But this has to be right.
My first stop is the lab where Brendan works. I call his name, and he looks up to me with goggles dangling from his neck.
“Oh, hey,” he says. “I’ve been watching your reports and doing some videos of my own. Still don’t know how to use the app much, but I have a few followers.”
“Want a few more?” I ask.
I tell him how when I go live with his video, I can promote his page and the followers who like it can start following him. He smiles, too eagerly, and I remind him not to get too cocky. As evidenced by all the harassing comments I’ve dealt with since the StarWatch story broke, the internet is a cesspool, and he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t go viral.
“Okay, start by telling us what you’re working on now. Then I’ll have you transition into what losing this mission would mean for your team, and for the country.”
He starts off hesitant, like he’s still not used to the camera, but when he delves into the new project his team is working on—one that’ll help transport the soil samples and rock
samples with minimal exposure to our atmosphere—he shines. He’s not a smooth talker, he’s not a natural behind the camera, but he’s real. And he really cares.
That’s what America loved about him the first time, and that’s why they’ll love him now.
I thank him and set the five-minute video to go live at 9:05 p.m., just after my live intro. As I enter the hallway, I spot Carmela running toward me. “Your dad told me what’s going on! Come, we can show your online friends the shuttle test room.”
A smile tugs at my lips. She cares so much. Everyone does.
Upon entering the room, she waves me over to her station. I point the camera at her.
“Oh no, Little Cal. Not this woman.”
“Come on,” I say. “People want to see behind the scenes, and they love the employees here. They loved Brendan.”
“Brendan’s young!”
“Come on!” I plead, still laughing.
“Fine. You stay on this side of my face.”
“Just give the viewers a quick autobiography,” I say, “and then you can show us around the test cockpit, okay? Act like all of America’s watching. Three … two … one …”
“Hello to all of you! I’m Carmela, and I’m supposed to act like all of America’s watching this. Well, you know what, I’m going to treat it that way.” A self-satisfied look hits her face. She’s found her platform, and the passion in her voice makes me lean in to hear her speak. “I live here in Texas—in
America
—because my parents risked everything to immigrate from Mexico
just before I was born. One in every six Texans are immigrants, and I am proud to be a part of that statistic. My parents, who encouraged me to follow my dreams and supported me through my studies, would be proud to know not only what work I’m doing, but how much I love the work I do.”
I hear the confidence propel her story forward. StarWatch rarely came in here, and when they did, they never gave her the space to speak. I’m reminded of when I covered the election. When I found a way to amplify my voice.
She transitions into a more instructional tone, detailing the tests she runs while pointing out all the features of the test cockpit. She gets inside and starts showing the viewers all the buttons.
“And don’t tell anyone I told you, but there’s no one as quick as Mr. Lewis on these trials. I throw him every problem I’ve designed, and he gets them almost always right. I’ve had to step up my game to throw him off.”
My shoulders pull back, and I stand straighter. Confident. Even if nothing happens, and the mission gets scrapped, Dad will be able to see what people think of him. And even if he’s frustrated right now, maybe he can learn that he was more than worthy for the job.
She goes on to detail some of the tests she does and why they’ll help in the Mars mission. I ask her why it’s so important not to delay it.
“Because I need a job, and they won’t need me if there’s no flight to prepare for.” She smiles at the camera. “But seriously, Calvin, you should know this more than anyone else. It means
a lot to these astronauts and to everyone on the team. It’s something that no one’s ever done before. But for me? I think Mars can be habitable someday. Maybe not in our generation, maybe not even in yours, but we’ll never know if we don’t take these first steps.”
A text lights up my phone screen, from my dad: “
Come to 4501 when you’re done upstairs. Satellite guy here really loves talking about antennas?
”
I end the recording with Carmela and set it for 9:15 tonight. I make a mental map of this show. If I spread them out, and if I bookend them with an intro and an exit, it’ll take up about an hour with minimal downtime. The barrage of short videos might be taken as spamming my followers, but it’ll be worth it if just a few watch them, or share them, or if it gets covered by other online media.
But I don’t get ahead of myself.
Within minutes, I’m on the fourth floor, scanning the rooms for 4501. I find it. I was expecting a large workshop area where half-broken machines lay around, but it’s just an ordinary office. Wooden desk, drafting table, large Mac.
“Ah, Cal. This is Kyle; he designed the antenna.”
“Sorry about the … you know.” I make an explosion gesture with my hand and widen my eyes.
He shakes his head. “It’s annoying. I’ve designed ten antennae before, and most of the launches have been canceled. This was finally built, and it was supposed to be my first one in space. And then, like you said …” He mimics my gesture. “Not to mention what it means for Orpheus V.”
“Wait, could you explain that a bit more on camera? StarWatch barely even explained what its purpose was, so you might want to get into that too.”
“You sure?” He looks back and forth between us. “Usually when I do my antenna talk, people get bored.”
I laugh. “I’ll cut you off if you get boring, but I’m sure that won’t be the case.”
He goes, then, and I never cut him off.
I go from office space to office space. I talk with the propulsion technicians who worked out the cause for the explosion, take viewers on an early model of the Orpheus V shuttle, and interview a round table full of engineers.
“And now, you.” I point the camera at my dad. “Go.”
“What? You don’t—”
“Dad, I already hit record.”
He looks away, and his face gets all flustered and red, but I just smile. He may be a lightning-quick space pilot, but it’s always a little funny to watch your dad shift uncomfortably when you put him on the spot.
“Right, so I’m Cal Lewis—Senior, that is—and I’m an alternate pilot for the Orpheus V mission. I was born in the eighties, but my mom hadn’t really thrown out a magazine since the fifties, so I grew up reading old
Life
articles about the Mercury Seven, and the Gemini and Apollo missions. I saw the first designs for space suits that made you look like a giant teapot, and I’d flip past eight or nine cigarette ads to get to anything with an astronaut. I was obsessed, and I always felt like I belonged in that world somehow.”
He talks about his career, his time as a pilot in the air force, and how he would have been content flying for Delta until he retired.
“But I saw the open call. I saw how NASA was trying to re-create the spirit and energy of the sixties. And here I am.”
“Do you think NASA did that?” I ask. “Did they re-create it?”
He laughs and slowly shakes his head. I see the wheels turning in his head as he thinks of a way to answer this. “No, they really didn’t. See, that spirit never left. No one ever woke up and was, like—hey, spaceships are boring. This NASA tried to shove it down America’s throat by bringing back the drama of the sixties and the fakeness of the ‘perfect’ family.” His gaze drifts above the camera to meet mine, and he smiles. “We
all
know there’s no such thing as a perfect family. But when that didn’t work, StarWatch bumped up the drama, and who could blame them? They just want viewers.”
He pauses, and I briefly worry that he’s going to end on that bleak note. But he looks away from the camera and takes a long breath.
“But there’s a lot to care about outside the drama. We’ll get to Mars. And not because we’re competing with Russia this time—we’re working together with Russia, with Canada, Japan, and so many countries in the European Space Agency. People always ask me what’s the point, and I don’t have that answer for you. But I think if you’ve listened to all the stories Calvin grabbed here, you’ll learn that the point is different for every person, and they’re all right, in their own way.”
His cheeks flush when he realizes he’s been pretty sentimental. So he grabs the phone out of my hand and points it at me. But I know what I want to say. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.
I smile at the camera, clear my throat, and go.
StarWatch News
Breaking News: Live Report
“This is Josh Farrow from
Shooting Stars
. I’m coming to you live from the StarWatch news desk with some breaking news from the Orpheus project.
“We’ve been told Cal Lewis Jr. has his own special planned this evening, covering the almost surely doomed Orpheus V mission. The video is expected to drop at nine p.m. CST, and we’ve got no clue what’s up his sleeve. But from the comments on his page, we can tell you—his fans, though most appear not to be of voting age, are very intrigued.
“Our experts say there’s little that can be done at this point. Tomorrow’s House vote is all but decided, but let us know what you think in our online poll: Cut NASA or Keep NASA?
“Let’s see what our viewers think.”