by Michael W. Garza
Mission Commander Carl Mathews stood on the forward control deck of the space shuttle Kepler. His brow creased as his stare hardened. A gloomy expression covered his square jawed face; his black hair was in disarray.
by Michael W. Garza
Mission Commander Carl Mathews stood on the forward control deck of the space shuttle Kepler. His brow creased as his stare hardened. A gloomy expression covered his square jawed face; his black hair was in disarray.
by Michael W. Garza
William Bradford stared at his computer screen with a blank expression. He was hidden from view in cubicle 536. There was an endless sea of identical cubes surrounding him. The steady hum of monitors, printers, and copiers filtered in over the shaky office walls.
The fourth floor of building A6 in the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center was a world away from the new programs drawing all of the attention and budget of the agency. Bradford adjusted his thick rimmed glasses and thought back to better times when was a recent graduate who longed to be a part of President Kennedy’s dream.