The Calculating Stars (Lady Astronaut, #1)(105)

He blinked. “Oh.” He set the pages down and smoothed them. “I see. That would have been useful information to know earlier.”

*

Between dozing through the orbital mechanics classes, we also had advanced pilot training. We were often broken into groups of three and sent to different facilities to use simulators or specialized equipment. Some of it was old hat, like the “Dilbert Dunker,” which I’d done for flight school as part of the WASPs.

But there were some unexpected twists. When I showed up for the Dilbert Dunker with Jacira and Betty, they gave us swimsuits.

Specifically, they gave us little blue bikinis.

In the dressing room, I held up the skimpy material and frowned. “Last time I took this test, we had to do it in a flight suit.”

Jacira shrugged and unbuttoned her blouse. “I have learned not to be surprised at what Americans do.”

“Don’t look at me.” Betty pulled her blouse off over her head. “I didn’t do any advanced training when I was in the WASPs.”

Jacira and I exchanged a glance. The application had required four hundred hours in high-performance aircraft. I didn’t know how they did things in Brazil, but skipping that as a WASP would have been a surprising lack.

Regardless of my training, I had a choice of wearing the bikini or doing the test in my clothes, so I pulled the scraps of fabric up and did my best to make sure that they covered everything they were supposed to cover. Maybe they were going to give us the flight suit when we got out of the locker room.

Betty finished changing first, and headed out of the dressing room. She stopped right outside the bathroom door, then turned around and came back in. “Elma?”

“Yes?” I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my midriff in a vague attempt at modesty.

“There are reporters here.” Strain tightened her face. “I didn’t call them.”

Nodding, I continued to secure the towel, as if it took all my attention. “Thank you for the warning.”

The Miltown in my purse whispered promises of calm, but I was about to go through underwater training. I couldn’t afford to have my reflexes slowed even a little.

Scowling, Betty strode to her bag and pulled out a tube of lipstick. “Goddamn it. What part of ‘exclusive’ don’t they understand?”

Rolling her eyes, Jacira pulled her long, dark hair back into a ponytail. “They are about to dunk us underwater. Many times. And you are put on lipstick?”

Betty shrugged. “With the bikinis, it’s pretty clear what kind of a test this is going to be. I aim to pass, ’cause I sure as hell ain’t going to pass orbital mechanics.”

I almost went out the door as I was. I was a physicist and a computer and a pilot, not a pinup girl. And yet … and yet, I could hear Mama saying, What will people think? She had always been on me to “gussy up” a little. I knew what the rules were for women. “Goddamn it.”

Turning back to my bag, I slammed it open and dug through it to find my own tube of lipstick. The pill case rattled in the bottom of the bag, and I hesitated over it. No. I needed my reflexes fast for this test. I’d survived the press conference, and for most of the trial, there would be thousands of gallons of water between me and the reporters.

The silver lipstick tube gleamed in a corner of my bag. It was slick beneath my fingers. I pulled the lid off, twisted it, and applied a thick red coat to my lips. The makeup ladies at Mr. Wizard would be so proud.

Jacira watched and shook her head. “No. This is not why my country sent me.”

“It’s not why I’m here either.” I capped the tube and straightened. “But lipstick won’t keep me from doing my job.”

Betty snorted. “Wearing lipstick practically is my job.”

“You don’t really…”

“Yep.” She surveyed herself in the mirror and dropped her lipstick back in the bag. “I didn’t have the flight hours to make the first cut, but Life was able to pull some strings to get me into the testing. After that? That’s been all me, but I still owe the devil their due.”

Given a choice, would I have made the same bargain? Oh yes. Yes, I would have. “Well. Shall we face the devil?”

“Heh. Most of these are just minor demons.” She strutted toward the door. “Wait until Life hears about this. Then you’ll see the devil incarnate.”

I followed her to the door and thanked God for the towel. Cameras snapped and flashes went off as the three of us made our way to the Dilbert Dunker. And I had my first heart-sinking moment of realizing that Betty was right.

Let Betty pose for the camera. I focused on the actual test. The Dilbert Dunker sat at the deep end of the pool, up on a stand. The bright red metal cage had a pilot seat inside and sat poised above a set of rails that led into the pool. Ah … I’d spent so many hours learning to escape a water landing that it seemed almost nostalgic.

The problem was that training for an underwater escape began in the pool, outside the Dunker, with an obstacle course. They hadn’t set one up. They were going to start us with the Dunker. We were being set up to fail.

The Navy test admins turned around to watch us. Or, more accurately, to watch Betty.

I could hardly blame them. How did she manage to sway like that without coming out of the bikini? The fabric was blue, but you could see it turning red just from the heat of her walk.