“She’ll be fine. Just rest and make yourself at home. We can go shopping tonight to get anything you might need, okay?”
“Thanks, Winona.” Naomi watched her go, then stretched out on the bed, resting her leg on a pillow. Before she knew it, she was asleep.
Chaska waitedfor the microwave to finish cooking his frozen burrito, his gaze moving over the printed memes and comics taped to the break room cupboard doors. Someone had added a few new ones this morning.
“Holy shit!” read one that featured an image of a man with a horrified expression on his face, telephone in hand. “You used Imperial units?”
Chaska chuckled. Yeah, that stupid mistake had cost NASA a Mars Lander.
“Engineering: If you’re not tired, you’re not doing it right,” read another.
The microwave beeped.
Chaska took out the plate and carried it, together with a cup of coffee and a jar of salsa, to the table. While he ate, the system schematic of the propulsion module for the Comet project ran through his mind. With a propellant load of 90 kilograms of hydrazine, the system was intended for the final orbit trim of the new Comet ST-5, a joint project of scientists at the University of Colorado-Boulder and NASA. RMSA—the company Chaska worked for—had been contracted to build some of the electrical systems as well as the launch and propulsion systems. Scheduled for launch in three years, the Comet ST-5 would spend its life hanging out at a Lagrange point monitoring space for comets and asteroids. It was Chaska’s job to find a way to build a system that was responsive enough to get the satellite precisely where it needed to be in space without increasing overall weight or blowing the hell out of the project budget.
He’d taken a couple of bites when Casper, his supervisor, walked in with the new hire, who was in the middle of his orientation day. The kid was fresh out of college—some fancy school back east—but the freckles on his face made him look younger. He wore a suit and tie, Greek letters engraved on his tie pin. A frat boy. Apparently, the kid was unaware that the dress code was strictly jeans and T-shirts.
“Hey, Belcourt, I’d like you to meet Sheldon Moore. He’ll be taking the vacant seat on the avionics team. We’ve got high hopes for him.”
Chaska stood, shook the kid’s hand. “Chaska Belcourt.”
Sheldon gave him a toothy bro grin. “Hey.”
“Chaska here is our propulsion systems genius. He’s also a world-class rock climber and designs gear for search and rescue operations in his free time. He could be making bank off patents, but he lets other people use his designs.”
That part about being a world-class climber was an exaggeration, but what Casper had said about the patents was probably true. Chaska didn’t care about the money. He designed the gear to make rescues safer and easier, not to line his pockets.
“Yesterday, he was out on a rescue,” Casper said. “Belcourt here not only found the girl and saved her life, but he helped agents track the bad guys.”
Sheldon looked confused. “Track?”
“He’s Lakota. Grew up on the reservation. Pine Ridge, right?”
Chaska nodded, wishing his boss would shut up.
Casper missed the cues, kept talking. “We try to be flexible with his schedule so that he can participate in rescues. He’s earned that privilege.”
“Cool.” The kid made an awkward attempt at a high-five, which Chaska did not reciprocate. “Way to go, chief.”
Chief?
Nice.
In his teenage years, Chaska might have responded to an insult like this with rough words or fists, but time had given him more control over his temper. Now, he chalked up shit like this to ignorance. “I think you misheard my name. It’s Chaska, but you can call me Belcourt.”
“Let’s let Belcourt get back to his lunch. We’ve got a Monday development deadline and a meeting with the NASA team.” Casper guided Sheldon out of the break room, his voice drifting back to Chaska. “Can you find your way back to my office? We should talk, but I need to have a word with Belcourt first.”
The kid’s first day with the company might well be his last.
“Sure. Yeah.”
Casper stepped back into the break room. “I’ll talk to him. He’s young. He didn’t mean anything by it.”
“They never do.” Chaska sat again and finished the last few bites of his burrito, his mind shifting back to the Comet ST-5. His cell phone buzzed.
A text message from Win.
I just left Naomi at our place. Will be home as soon as I can. Grab something for dinner on the way home?