TINCAN ELEGY (failsafe)

//LOCAL TRANSMISSION: ONLINE(click: "ONLINE")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ SIGNAL DECRYPTION: 15%(click:"15%")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ SIGNAL DECRYPTION: 48%(click:"48%")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ SIGNAL DECRYPTION: 67%(click:"67%")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ SIGNAL DECRYPTION: 100%(click:"100%")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ [[WHEN THE TEAKETTLE’S WHINE CONVEYS A DIFFERENT TUNE]]]]]]]

i mean, of course i think about failsafes. it’s part of the process. practically baked into our work. these satellites are tiny metal pods designed to be operated entirely by one person. “foolproof”, tennyson told us. [[“so easy a kid could operate it.”]] but after you spend too much time thinking about it, that lingering doubt [[starts to grow in the back of your mind.]]

that always pissed me off a little, whenever he said it with that condescending lilt in the back of his throat. if this equipment is really that simple, then how come this program is so exclusive? how come we’re out here wasting years of our life, doing such rigorous study?(click:"such rigorous study?")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ tennyson was always making snippy little comments like that during his lectures. “a word of advice,” he would call it, “colored by personal experience.” he wrote the book on these kinds of missions. it felt dismissive. patronizing, even.(click:"patronizing, even.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ but in hindsight, i suppose i can read it as [[i think about failsafes a lot.<-his idea of charity.]]]]

the very first time i had my doubts about our work was before i ever stepped foot inside one of these satellites. it was a conversation with jan, if you would believe it. the last time i saw him before his deployment.(click:"the last time i saw him")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ it was summer. courses were all on break, so we had the luxury of taking a bit of a breather. jan’s official deployment date wouldn’t be until mid-september, but he was still in town, continuing to conduct some research on campus.(click:"still in town")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ i remember him extending the invite to me, just a text message asking [[if i wanted to visit him for some tea.]]]]

[[i think about failsafes a lot.]]

i was surprised when he sent me the address and it was properly in-town; not affiliated with the academy at all. i didn’t think much of it at first, as [[i started my car]] and drove over. it was a truly suburban little set of streets; the houses were quaint, a real range of colors and shapes. i remember pulling up and seeing the garden, overgrown with native flowers; jan standing by the fence, waving me over. “my aunt’s place,” he explained.(click:"“my aunt’s place,”")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ that took me by surprise. i hadn’t put much thought to his family, before. i knew he must have had one, implicitly, but i always assumed they were at arm’s length; back east, or overseas somewhere. it hadn’t struck me that he was the kind of person who would hold [[those close attachments.]]]

i was still getting used to the car at this point — it wasn’t one i’d had for very long, but you had been insisting that i should get one, so i wouldn’t have to borrow yours. you were out of town, in any case. that was the summer you had scored your big research gig down south, so i couldn’t have borrowed yours [[even if i had wanted to.->if i wanted to visit him for some tea.]]

jan walked us around the side of the house and into the backyard — there was a beautiful set of trellises and an awning that opened wide into the kitchen. he handed me a pair of ceramic mugs and pointed me over toward the deck chairs, a kettle and [[a glass teapot]] on the small table between them. “i was just about to begin steeping,” he told me as [[i settled myself into the seat.]]

it was some sort of herbal tea; chamomile, maybe, or lavender. i watched has he poured the hot water into the teapot — the bloom of pressed leaves and petals unfurling, a slow arc of color cutting through the steam. it struck me, in that moment, that i couldn’t remember the last time jan and i had talked one on one. we chatted often in our study sessions, the five of us together, but with his accelerated courseload we didn’t often have cause to chat individually.(click:"cause to chat individually.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ as if reading my mind, he spoke up then, [[rousing me from my meditation.]]]

“i’m nervous,” the first thing out of his mouth. he fumbled with his empty mug. “i mean, of course i’m nervous, it’s pre-deployment jitters. everybody has this kind of stress before a big change. i had it before getting accepted to the academy, i felt it the exact same way in my stomach.”(click:"in my stomach.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ “but this feels different,” he pressed on, looking out at the trellises. “i’ve been spending these last few weeks reading transmission archives, listening to old interviews. i’m trying to prepare myself, and i just can’t shake the feeling that something’s bound to [[go horribly wrong.]]”]

i opened my mouth at that, and he cut me off. “i know what you’re about to say. those satellites are designed with safeguards, their safeguards are designed with safeguards, the whole spiel that tennyson has been giving us since day one of basic satnav training. and i know. these things are designed to be staffed in self-sufficiency for years at a time. they’re unbreakable. foolproof.”(click:"foolproof.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ he continued fidgeting with the mug in his hands at this point, cradling it by its handle. “but i’ve gone back and read the incident reports. i’ve listened to the tape. and we still get failures. we still get accidents. we can get the satnav process down to a 99% success rate, but there are still imperfections.” he placed the mug down on the side table between us sharply, its clatter drawing my attention. “where does that failure come from?”(click:"where does that failure come from?")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ i didn’t move to respond. [[i knew he had an answer.]]]]

he turned his head to look me dead in the eyes. “if the mechanism is perfect, that means [[the fault lies in the pilot.]]”

he took the teakettle in hand, then, and began to pour tea into our two mugs. my mind raced as i tried to think of a response. on impulse, i blurted the first thing that came to mind:(click:"first thing that came to mind:")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ [[“how long have you been having these doubts?”]] [[“that failure rate isn’t just on the pilots.”]]]

he turned his gaze away from me again. “probably about a year and a half, maybe a few months longer? i had the faintest seed of doubt right before i took my placement exams.” he shook his head, and spoke with a chuckle tinged with regret. “i thought if i shoved it down, i could stomach my concerns, i could take my placement exams. i thought, if they select me for solo deployment, if they decide to stick me up in one of those tin cans all by myself, then it’s a sign that i’m on the right track. it would be a sign that i could continue to swallow that doubt. that it would fade with my preparations.” [[“and did it fade, at all?”]]

he looked back at me at that. it threw me, for a moment, but then i tried to explain myself: “human error accounts for a portion of those failures, sure, but it’s not the only portion. acts of god, unforeseen circumstances, slip-ups from central command. you’re the only person on your deployment, but it doesn’t all rest on your shoulders.” i felt emboldened to press on. “besides, you’ve gotten to see the insides of those satellites. the test model they have back on campus, right? so you must know firsthand they aren’t one size fits all.”(click:"one size fits all.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ he chuckled. “yeah, knowing me i’m going to have to duck to make sure i don’t hit my head.” “that’ll be even more of a pain in zero gravity.” [[we shared a grin, at that.]]]

“you know what tennyson always says,” i continued. “just because it’s a solo deployment—” “—doesn’t make it a solo effort,” jan finished my sentence. “i know, i know. it’s just easy to lose sight of that when i’m counting down the days.” he leaned back in the chair, taking a sip of his tea. i watched the way he stretched his legs in the lawn chair, as if he was trying to savor the openness of the patio air. “well, have you shared your concerns [[with anyone else?]]”

“for a bit, very briefly,” he responded. “once i got my placement results, and received the confirmation that i was slated for a solo deployment. but after the celebration it died down, and that small doubt just started re-emerging again.” i took a sip of the tea; still a bit too hot for my mouth. i looked out over the backyard, following the trajectory of a bumblebee as it drifted lazily through the garden. i ventured another question. (click:"ventured another question")+(t8n:"dissolve")[“have you shared your concerns [[with anyone else?]]”]

“not yet,” he said. “i wanted to make sure i could talk to everyone in person. to make the rounds one last time before i go.” that made sense to me. august and pepper were still doing their road trip, and they wouldn’t be back to campus for a few more weeks. and of course you had [[your research gig]] going on at the time. “but i want to,” he continued. “and i want to get everyone together, one last time before i head out. a going-away party.”(click:"a going-away party.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ “a deployment party,” i offered.(click:"i offered.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ another small grin. “a deployment party. [[i like the sound of that.]]”]]

it was early enough in the morning that it was still cool enough for hot tea. i remember the forecast had said it would be a scorcher, later in the day, but the sun was still rising. we had [[plenty of time to chat.->those close attachments.]]

did you end up talking to jan, in the end? at his going-away party, or over a backyard tea the way he did with me? if he ever confided those fears to you, i never found out.(click:"i never found out.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ i imagine if you and i had talked it over, it would have made our own deployment easier, in the end. or perhaps it would have been too little, too late. [[i suppose we’ll never know now.->with anyone else?]]]

he laughed, suddenly. “god, i feel like shit. you’re taking your placement exams this fall. i’m telling you about all my concerns, the doubts i had about signing up for a solo deployment, and here you are. you’re all gonna have to make this same decision for yourselves in just a few months.” “i suspect some of us have [[a sense of our decisions already]],” i offered. he smiled at that. “well, in any case, don’t let my feelings color your judgement. we’ll all just have to talk it out at my deployment party.” i grinned, and raised my mug [[in a mock salute.]]

that was only partially true, when i said it. pepper and august were so attached at the hip by that point, and i knew that august wanted to transfer to central command. i figured they would both use placement exams as an opportunity to make the switch over, rather than opting for solo deployment.(click:"solo deployment.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ i didn’t speak for you. i couldn’t have known how strongly you [[i like the sound of that.<-had already made your decision]], at the time.]

i regret not making the time to go to his party, in the end. i really, really do.(click:"i really, really do.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ i recall getting the invitation, a few weeks after we’d had that one on one meeting. by that time courses had already started, and i was swamped with my TA work, and i had midterms coming up. i recall being stuck between grading papers, thinking, “i’ll pop in in for just a quick moment, say hi to jan before i duck out again.”(click:"just a quick moment,")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ [[i don’t recall why i didn’t actually follow through.]]]]

but the rest of that slow summer morning still sticks in my memory.(click:"but the rest of that slow summer morning still sticks in my memory.")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ me and jan,(click:"me and jan,")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ in his aunt’s backyard,(click:"in his aunt’s backyard,")+(t8n:"dissolve")[ a pot of tea and an easy silence [[shared between us.]]]]]

end of log(event:when time>2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[ [[restart?->origin]]]]