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single-engine plane by himself, but even more intense. He felt really alive, and the fear of getting caught no longer crossed his mind.
    “That’s correct,” he heard himself respond. “I’m supposed to observe the test run.”
    “The rest of your crew is already inside,” the tech responded, starting forward toward the simulator. “If we hurry we can make it before it begins.”
    Thad’s eyes widened. He had assumed he’d be observing the test run from where he was standing. Well, in for a penny, in for a one-hundred-million-dollar simulator . There was no turning back now. He quickly followed the man toward the massive machine.
    A second later, he was a few feet away from the giant hydraulic crane. The MBCS’s nose cone was right in front of him, and the tech headed for an open hatch affixed to one side. The tech pointed through the oval opening.
    “You guys have the coolest fucking toys.”
    Thad wasn’t sure he was even breathing anymore as he stepped past the tech, bending his head so he didn’t hit himself on the simulator’s ceiling. Before he could blink, he was inside the cockpit of the space shuttle. At least, a mock-up so realistic no astronaut in the world would be able to tell the difference.
    In some ways, it was like the interior of an airplane. Except a million times more . There were triangular viewing windows ahead, windows on either side—and every other surface of the thing was covered in switches, diodes, buzzers, and levers. There was already a man strapped into the pilot’s seat to Thad’s right. He couldn’t tell if the man was an astronaut or a technician, because he was wearing what looked to be gray-on-gray overalls. But there was no doubt he knew what he was doing. His hands were flicking around the switches, beginning what had to be the launch sequence. Without looking up, he gestured toward the other chair—the commander’s seat.
    Thad felt another moment of extreme panic, which he quickly swallowed down. As he told the tech, he was just there to observe. That was the charade he had invented, and that was the charade he was going to stick with. Just a lowly co-op who had been sent by his mentor to witness the monthly check of the Space Shuttle Simulator.
    It took a moment to figure out how to strap himself into the commander’s seat. There were seat belts coming from every angle, and a holster that went around his chest. When he was done, the pilot said something into a communicator attached above their heads, and Thad heard the whoosh of the hatch sealing shut behind him.
    “Let’s finish the checklist,” the pilot grunted, and Thad quickly looked where the man was pointing.
    There was a printed checklist attached between their seats. Because Thad had his pilot’s license, he was at least barely able to follow what was going on. He didn’t know where anything was located, but he was able to mimic the pilot’s lead, flicking a switch here and there, reading an alternator or a temperature control.
    “Fire it up,” the pilot said.
    And the next thing Thad knew, the entire cockpit began to shake. At first, it was a low tremble, but then the thing was really jerking up and down, like a paper airplane riding across the top of a thunderstorm. And suddenly the whole cockpit tilted all the way on its back, nose pointing up. Thad stifled a gasp. To his surprise, the window ahead of him no longer looked out on a converted airplane hangar. Thad was looking at the sky. They weren’t windows; they were high-definition monitors, playing feedback from a real shuttle launch.
    A second later, Thad was slammed hard into his seat. The view through the windows became one of pure motion, streaks of light like laser beams flashing before his eyes. The noise of the engines was like thunder reverberating around him in truly deafening peals.
    Thad realized he was shouting, in pure unadulterated joy. Maybe the pilot noticed, maybe he couldn’t hear over the din of the mock thrusters—Thad