William Watches Gemini VI-A Hold on the Pad

Morning light had reached the far edge of the table. William held his cup beneath his chin, watching the countdown on a small screen.

The footage was from December 12, 1965. Gemini VI-A stood on its pad, preparing to meet Gemini VII in orbit. Even the extra letter carried an interruption: the original Agena target had been lost in October. Engineers had found another way to arrange the meeting.

The numbers fell. William stopped drinking.

Ignition showed beneath the rocket—a brief, fierce brightness. Then it stopped.

He waited for the upward movement that would make sense of the flame. The rocket stayed where it was. On the screen, the countdown gave way to a hold.

William put down his cup. Its base made a small, surprisingly distinct sound against the table.

He leaned closer, looking for a change he might have missed. Nothing rose. He knew how easily a person could mistake the beginning of a sequence for its completion. Still, he had already pictured the rocket clear of the tower.

The people inside it had not gone anywhere.

He looked at the paused clock. The cup was within reach, but he left it there. There would have to be checks, decisions, another attempt; wanting the next number would not bring it.

Outside, a vehicle passed through a patch of sunlight. William stayed at the table with the small screen, waiting for the second attempt.