Providence Found

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say; but if there was anyone in the United States Space Command who could challenge that theory, it was Sgt. Walter O’Malley.

“You slackers better get back to work on that airlock before I come out there and start cracking skulls!”

Like a pinball trapped between two bumpers in a pinball machine, Sgt. O’Malley’s command ricocheted inside the helmets of every engineering cadet outside the spacecraft and, even though everyone knew the commander’s voice had burst into their helmets through the intercoms, Graham Finley could swear he had seen a shock wave jump across the vacuum of space between the window of the bridge and his position 50 yards toward the rear of the spacecraft.

“Quite a feat!” he thought as he briefly pondered the amount of energy it would take to generate an audible compression wave in a near perfect vacuum.

He yawned and stretched as he turned away from the angry, gesticulating image of O’Malley berating them from the bridge. The Sergeant was now merely a character in a silent movie. All it had taken to tune out O’Malley was a quick twist of a knob and then …

Bliss!

He continued to reflect on his musings from just a moment earlier.

“Yes. O’Malley just might be the one to prove that theory wrong! Vacuums dare not challenge the mighty “king”!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the younger cadets looking at him with a mixture of confusion and outright terror. He clearly wanted someone in a position of authority to acknowledge that he had gotten back to work, and Finley was the closest thing to an authority figure in their squad. But it was also apparent that he was mystified by Finley’s nonchalance in the face of O’Malley’s wrath.

“Freshmen!” snorted Finley to himself. “They need to lighten up! Nothing is so important in this world to justify being on task 24/7! I mean, look at that view!”

The Providence had escaped Earth’s orbit a day earlier and was now well into its second training run of the year 500,000 miles from Earth. Both the Earth and the moon were now visible through the polycarbonate arc of Finley’s helmet. He no longer needed to turn his head to take them both in.

He floated casually in place, twirling his air hose to pass the time. He reluctantly acknowledged that O’Malley’s wrath came from a tiny region in his heart where good may actually dwell. Out here, in the wilds of space, it was better to stay focused and on task than to allow oneself to drift into a sleepy complacency.

Finley’s job was akin to that of a lifeguard. He was expected to keep a watchful eye on the younger cadets to make sure they were following the proper repair procedures. Slow, methodical precision was the best way to ensure a safe, successful spacewalk. Once in a while, some wisecracker would try to prank one of the younger cadets and it was Finley who had to quickly snuff out these adolescent wildfires in the making.

He winced as the memory of his sophomore year came flooding back in.

Two cadets had been horsing around pitching a wrench to each other with increasing force to see who might “drop” the wrench first. It was probably one of the stupidest things he had ever seen in his time at the academy.

After about 5 pitches to each other, the wrench flew off in the direction of another cadet who was keeping her eye on the job. She didn’t notice the wrench flying at her with the speed of a softball. The wrench had glanced the side of her helmet and chipped a part of the visor.

In the pressurized cabin of the spacecraft, this might not have been such a big deal but in the vacuum of space, it was potentially lethal.

Finley shivered as the memory further enveloped him. The girl’s face had gone white, and her eyes had bulged with terror.

Her mouth had opened wide in what was clearly a very vocal protest...

His mind reeled and his body ached with barely suppressed panic as he recalled his musings from just a moment ago, but now his thoughts were no longer musings. They were harsh warnings…chilling reminders….

“But,” he thought ruefully as his mind returned to the present, “no one can hear you scream in the vacuum of space. Or so they say.”

Finley shook himself hard as the cold reality of space sank back in and sapped away his spirit. He glanced again towards the bridge. O’Malley’s stare was even more icy than the void just outside his space suit. It was if O’Malley had reached across the span between them and given him a forceful kick in the hind parts. He cursed himself for the brief period of carefree negligence, switched his mic back on and then solemnly returned to his duty.