Abraham Lincoln Gabe In Space

They called it a Sharkie because it had a peculiar shape, sort of like a shark. The astronauts didn’t care if they were referred to as the “pilot fish”, didn’t care because it was just a good ship to them and they didn’t want to argue about silly-ass names the civilians hankered for. That’s all it was, Gabe thought, just names that Generals and general contractors thought would appeal to the public. Maybe they were right, though Gabe couldn’t imagine how they found time to think about it. Most of the time that he saw them, they were as endlessly busy as he was. Somebody was always building the ship, wiring the ship, fitting the ship, welding, pasting, riveting, inflating, deflating, testing. It was a wonder that the ship didn’t get worn out by so much traipsing back and forth before it could get into space! Gabe, most of all, felt like he’d spent 24 hours a day on the ship lately, almost never leaving it, almost never going home without having an emergency call to come back and test a new connection or a new fit. Could he operate the buttons in the dark or if he lost his sight? Was it possible to return to earth in the Shark with injured men or an injured pilot? Everyone hated to talk about it, but the sensible ones knew they had to plan for it and for all other contingencies. Everyone on the team knew it intimately, Gabe grinned inwardly, like they’d know a woman at a late-night bar who had bad breath.

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