Day 1

6 x 5 = 30 < 45

The sim handler, Harold, waits until no one else is around before answering. "We haven't been told much either, but I've been able to piece a few things together. Woolrich wasn't kidding when he said there were only four people on Earth who could do this mission, I think. The satellite is highly advanced, and I do mean highly. None of NASA's engineers were deemed knowledgeable enough to do this and it's our damned jobs to know everything about what we put up in space. So I looked into these guys. Weintraub was a Harvard grad, highly decorated math wiz, but disappears off the face of the Earth right after graduation. I couldn't find anything on anybody named Pierce O'Neil. For someone who is supposed to be one of the best in the world, he has no school record, no published papers, nada. And be careful who you talk to McMillan, people who work top secret projects end their careers working a desk job in Bumfuck, Alaska if they draw any negative attention. And you didn't hear any of this from me."

"Hey no worries buddy, I never give up my sources. Appreciate the insight though. I think I’ll go see how our new gusts are fairing. It’s clear that I haven’t missed a step here.

Dirk flips all the switches back to their off position before getting out of his seat. As he exits he’ll stop by Harold’s station.

"Thanks again pal. If you hear anything new,give me a call."

Dierdre catches up on her notes on both men and wonders why she is bothering. She's suddenly both despondent and elated about the mission and chuckles at the dichotomy of those thoughts. The textbooks would say that exhibits a very troubled mind.

"Ha," she snickers, closes her pad and goes to join the others to see how the training is progressing.