Page 5 of Lunar Blackout

Before I realise it I am staring at him, his rather large pecs holding my gaze, hypnotic as they bounce ever so slightly as he walks past. I swear when he is close to me he flexes them independently to each other!

I finally force my eyes up to his. He has spotted my staring and is smirking at me, so the flexing was definitely him showing off. He winks as the door to the changing rooms whirr open again and then he’s gone. I increase my treadmill’s speed by fifty percent in the hopes it will burn away the magnetic pull I feel to that man, and going by the blood that has flooded my groin area, the pull my dick has to him too.

***

The director of the UBNSA has decided to grace us with his presence for our first day of training. Doctor James McCrimmon was elected as Director after the last AGM of the constituent organisations from Wales, Scotland, Cornwall and England, and this time, Scotland came out on top. Apparently the McCrimmons have had dreams of space travel going hundreds of years, and their family essentially started the Scottish Space Industry single handedly.

Dr McCrimmon watches as the human centrifuge comes to a stop. Two workers go and open the hatch and a slightly pale Winston steps out and walks over to the two of us.

“I will never get used to that.”

“Can’t deal with the extra gravity, Smith?” McCrimmon teases with a smile.

“It’s not that, it’s the speed spinning round in a circle at the start and end, it’s much easier to deal with when the rocket is just going up.” The director slaps Winston on the back. I didn’t realise they were this pally.

“My turn,” I say quietly as I go to walk to the machine.

“Actually,” a female voice I don’t recognise calls as a door whirrs open, “the Spitfire simulator has just been installed, so if you wouldn't mind coming now, we can get the Director back to his busy schedule.” She does realise that Winston’s and my schedule is much busier than this bureaucrat’s, doesn’t she?

“My wife, gentlemen. Professor Teck, astronaut, physicist, and a pain in my backside.”

The couple kiss.

Teck is well known for her bravery in space; whenever there’s a dangerous mission, she’s the first to volunteer. There are whispers that she’s been selected to command the first mission to land on the Moon.

We walk into the vast room in the basement of the building where the Spitfire space plane is waiting for us, and I must say it is beautiful. It’s slightly smaller than the real one, but it is magnificent nonetheless.

The entire body is black, the underside covered in heat-resistant tiles, the flags of all the nations on this island present, along with the UBNSA logo. I can’t help but reach my hand for it, and it seems Winston has the same idea as our hands accidentally land on the same spot. The milliseconds that his hand is on top of mine feel like hours, and I shouldn’t admit it, but I miss his touch once he moves away.

Teck opens the access hatch at the rear of the shuttle, and we crawl through the sleeping quarters to the command section at the front. The Spitfire is much smaller than the American space shuttle of the 20th Century, with no compartment to launch satellites into space. It’s been purely designed as the best option to travel in space and return on land rather than via a splashdown.

The UBNSA has also learnt from NASA’s mistakes and is launching the Spitfire on top of the rocket, rather than on the side of a fuel tank, so that if there is an emergency, the rocket can jettison itself to safety.

Winston and I take our seats as the entry hatch is sealed shut. This is the first of many times that we’ll have to be locked together, me and the man who has no memory of breaking my heart. I need to regain control of this situation, especially after how I behaved at the banquet last week.

“Right boys,” Teck’s voice comes through the comms system, “you’re locked in for now, but the simulation system won’t start. Turns out the IT boys neglected to update the computer systems, so that is currently rebooting. So just pretend that you’re orbiting the Moon and chatting away while we get this sorted. Remember there will be around 40 minutes where you’ll have no contact with earth at all. Think of this as training for then.”

I turn to look at Winston and see him staring at me, his mouth open as if he’s trying to say something but failing. It’s now or never for me to regain control over this situation.

“Can we just start a new slate? Ignore the past, forget it all, and certainly forget me crying on your tuxedo’s lapel last week.”

“Iolo —” Shit I think that’s the first time he has ever got my name right.

“It’s fine. There’s no point bringing up the past when it’s only going to upset us both, me because it’s reliving something that hurt me, and you because you clearly have no recollection of it, and seemed genuinely upset last week when you found out you’d hurt me.”

He’s considering my words. It’s rare you see Winston in silent contemplation, but he is beautiful when he is. “Iolo, I’ll agree, as long as this is us moving on, and we do start fresh, but also, if you promise that one day you will tell me what I did.”

I intend to refuse him, but his eyes turn into those of a puppy as he punctuates his plea with a “please?”

“Fine. I agree.”

“Good!” He reaches his arm over to me for me to shake, and I grab it. “Friends?”

“Sure.” I actually feel a small weight lift off my chest.

“Right you two,” Teck’s Irish accent snaps me back into the reality we are in. “Systems are back up and running now, we are going to run through launch and re-entry today, to check you both know what you’re doing should there be a failure in the autopilot system. Not to turn this into a test…”

“Remember,” the director cuts in, “whoever performs the best in these simulations will be named Captain of the mission.”