Work Text:
Spring, 2019
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“Hey.”
“Stan! How are you?”
“I’m back in town, finally. Wanna grab a drink?”
“How about coffee? We can have lunch.”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
“See you.”
Xeno Wingfield hung up, slipping his cell phone back into his pocket, and continued with the rest of his morning with a bounce in his step.
His best childhood friend, Stanley Snyder, had been moving up the ranks in the Marine Corps, which, combined with Xeno’s busy schedule at NASA, left them with few opportunities to catch up in person. Whenever one presented itself, neither of them took it for granted.
Xeno ordered their drinks in advance of his arrival. He didn’t have to tell Stanley which coffee shop they’d be meeting at, and Stanley didn’t have to tell Xeno how he liked his coffee. (Xeno knew that Stanley likely would have preferred to have a beer with him, but more often than not, coffee was easier to fit into Xeno’s work schedule, and he much preferred its buzz.)
Right after he had received their drinks, Stanley walked into the busy coffeeshop. Xeno waved from the booth he had secured for them, and Stanley promptly joined him, sitting across from the other man.
Xeno pushed the coffee he ordered for Stanley over to him. “Same as always. Hope you don’t mind that I ordered for you.”
“Not at all,” Stanley said, taking a sip of the cold brew. “So… how’ve you been?” he asked, meeting Xeno’s dark-eyed stare.
“I’ve been well. My work has been manageable, and I’ve been getting more sleep lately. Our space probe Lucy is scheduled to launch in three years, to examine the asteroids orbiting Jupiter. zSpace has been a pain in the neck lately, but what else is new?” Xeno said with a weary but enduring smile.
“So you’re really not gonna bring it up…” Stanley muttered, almost to himself, with a slightly amused smile gracing his lips. He opened his coat and pulled something out of the inside pocket. He smoothed it flat upon the table’s surface, and its identity became clear: It was a fashion and lifestyle magazine dubbed Fair Isle — not something that the Marine would typically be caught buying or reading. But the reason for his possession of it became immediately clear. On its cover was the headline The Elegance of Science, accompanied by a striking photograph of a man in a sleek black coat and perfectly slicked-back hair, standing in front of a rocket on display — Dr. Xeno H. Wingfield himself.
Stanley spun the magazine to face Xeno. “You didn’t tell me you became a supermodel,” he smirked.
Xeno sighed. “I was going to tell you about this. I just didn’t consider it pressing enough to bring up first,” he said, pulling out his own copy of the magazine and placing it on the table. “I’d rather hear about what’s going on in your life first,” he continued, stirring his coffee.
Stanley scoffed. “Nothing in my life right now is as interesting as this is,” he said, giving the magazine a tap in emphasis. “Have you read it yet?”
“Not yet. I received an advance copy, but I’ve been busy. I’m dreading it, to be honest.”
“Guess we’ll be reading it together then,” Stanley smiled. "Was that your plan?"
"Well, yes. I didn't know that you'd have your own copy."
"I saw it on a newsstand on my way here. I had to do a double-take at first, then I couldn't not buy it. I should've bought more than one…"
"Let's just read this one first," Xeno said, pink dusting his cheeks, the image of hundreds of passersby seeing his face on that newsstand caught in his mind's eye.
“Alright,” Stanley agreed, and turned his copy of the magazine back around to face himself. They both thumbed through the pages of their copies, flipping past advertisements and pithy pieces about celebrities and politics, until they landed on the article they were both searching for.
Xeno and Stanley ordered lunch, and ate their panini sandwiches as they looked over the photos that had been spread across the glossy pages. One was the full cover photo, Xeno looking upward in front of a red, white and blue rocket pointed toward the sky, wearing the black coat Stanley had seen him wear before. In another, he was shown standing at the engine end of Saturn V, wearing a tailored black pinstripe blazer and pants, with a stark-white dress shirt underneath, the cuffs of its sleeves showing, and pure white dress shoes for added contrast, photographed seemingly mid-sentence, gesturing toward the engine’s boosters with an eager smile on his lips; still another, he wore a steel-gray double-breasted suit with pants to match, a gray dress shirt and sleek black shoes, but completing the outfit was a long, silvery silk scarf that emerged from within the suit jacket and wrapped around his torso, trailing down to where it nearly touched the ground. In this ensemble, he stood before a colorful mural that featured many of NASA’s technical achievements, Xeno standing in front of Mars, next to a painted rocket in flight, giving a sidelong stare to the camera.
“They picked some great stuff for ya,” Stanley remarked.
“They let me keep some of them,” Xeno said with a smile that suggested he considered that a small victory.
“Nice.” Stanley scanned the photos. “This one?” He pointed at a photo that featured Xeno striking a dramatic pose, his arms outstretched as he stood before a jumbo jet plane that carried a space shuttle atop it, wearing a long black coat adorned with decorative belts and silvertone buckles and accents, a pair of belts criss-crossing his chest to make a subtle but prominent X.
“Yes!” Xeno beamed. “Isn’t it elegant?”
“...When are you ever going to wear that?” Stanley said with a barely-suppressed chuckle. “You look like you’re about to go kill a vampire.”
“Shut up…” Xeno said without venom, but with a darkened leer.
Stanley flipped back a few pages, and his eyes wandered down to the text. “You haven’t read the interview yet, right?” he said, peering up at his friend.
“No…” Xeno sighed. “Let’s get it over with.”
They began to read:
The Elegance of Science
Interview by Wesley Adams
Science can be a daunting subject. Advanced sciences, such as astrophysics, can be most daunting of all. But to those who study them and explore them as a career, they’re both a stimulating challenge, and a complex tapestry that is a beauty to behold in its entirety.
Being able to see this inner elegance in the laws that govern our world can make nearly everything just that much more amazing and awe-inspiring — and for some, they translate this into their everyday life, including their personal style. Few do it better than National Aeronautics and Space Administration aerospace engineer and astrophysicist Dr. Xeno H. Wingfield, best known as Dr. Xeno by his colleagues.
Despite his young age, Dr. Xeno has rapidly garnered respect from many in his field, his profile rising as high as the rockets he helps design.
Much like his name, Xeno stands out from the rest, in more ways than one. While most employees of NASA are content to wear the uniform or typical office wear, his fashion sense has caught the attention of not only his co-workers, but also anyone who has spotted him at a press conference or simply going about his day. His long black woolen peacoat, accented by a pair of leather belt chokers around his shirt collar, give him a mysterious air.
It was this attention to his own personal elegance that caught the attention of Fair Isle.
I met him at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas. We had informed him that we wished to conduct a fashion photoshoot before our interview, and he was at first surprised, and a bit dubious, but on the day of our meeting he was eager, once he saw what we had brought along.
Dr. Xeno’s personal taste in fashion is heavily inspired by both the latest in men’s fashion, and the industrial age — a taste of steampunk brought into everyday wear. He chuckled at my mention of that subculture, saying that it was a blast from the past. When I asked if he had been fond of that subculture in his youth, he had no comment.
We toured the grounds of the space center during our shoot, as Dr. Xeno explained with enthusiasm the history and technical achievements of each rocket we saw.
When the shoot wrapped, I took a few moments to ask him some questions, to take a peek into his brilliant mind.
Fair Isle: Thank you for making time in your busy schedule to speak with us.
Dr. Xeno: Of course. Any occasion where the media takes genuine interest in science should be embraced.FI: In your email correspondence with us, your signature included the phrase, ‘Science is elegant’. In fact, the word ‘elegant’ appears in many of your public statements, and some would say it’s your catchword. Tell our readers: What is elegant about science?
Dr. X: Many things. How effectively it uncovers truths about our world and how it works. How its laws are loyal to none but themselves, working the same for a prince as for a pauper. And the sheer beauty of those laws in action — whether in motion, creation, or destruction. It can be wondrous, it can be terrifying, but it is always… elegant.
FI: Well put. Speaking of elegance, your fashion sense is sharper than that of a typical rocket scientist. Have you always been such a standout?
Dr. X: That’s a bit of a personal question, isn’t it? [laughs] But you would be correct. I never quite fit in during grade school… I didn’t mind it much, though. As for fashion, I have always appreciated clothing and accessories that combine time-tested classics with innovative style. I suppose I’ve never been content with simply adhering to the status quo… As in both science and fashion, never challenging the ordinary makes for a boring existence, right?
FI: You’re right. That reminds me of the ultimate challenge to the ordinary: Space exploration. Has this always been a passion of yours?
Dr. X: Yes, ever since I was a child, building model rockets in my backyard.
FI: Space exploration has always been met with some controversy and debate, as I’m sure you well know. As of late, private business and a handful of billionaires have set their sights on space, building rockets and filling the void that NASA’s withdrawn presence has left. How do you feel about this?
Dr. X: I think it’s brilliant. Fantastic.
FI: Many people have expressed their grievances, even anger about this, especially on social media. They say these billionaires’ funds would be better spent for the benefit of those living here on Earth, or taxed away.
Dr. X: The masses always have something to say these days, don’t they… whether or not they are knowledgeable in what they are speaking of.
FI: Such is the nature of the digital age.
Dr. X: Indeed. Well, let me first state that NASA supports these efforts. zSpace has already assisted us in making deliveries to the ISS. What these companies are doing is merely duplicating, refining and perfecting what our agency achieved decades ago, with the assistance of our data. NASA’s efforts have shifted to larger goals, those that are well beyond the reach of any individual, no matter how much money they possess.
FI: Right. Some fear that these billionaires will build their own colonies on the moon or Mars, to escape their responsibilities on Earth.
Dr. X: [laughs] Let me assure you, and your readers: Such a thing will not be accomplished within their lifetimes. The technology and infrastructure needed does not yet exist.
FI: Given your expertise in this subject, that is indeed reassuring, Dr. Xeno.
Dr. X: You flatter me. As for other grievances… Space exploration has always been a convenient scapegoat for society’s problems, hasn’t it? People point their fingers at NASA and say the government is wasting their money, yet overlook how many billions are consumed by the military every year. It’s different when the missiles are fired at another country in the name of defense instead of into space, I suppose.
FI: We’re getting a bit controversial here.
Dr. X: Are we? [laughs] Let me put it this way, then. There is never only one person to blame for society’s ills. Politicians, lobbyists, corporations, the systems they've built, all have had a role to play in creating the reality we see now. The wealthy will do what they have always done — spend their money however they please. The Wright brothers were private businessmen as well, you know. It is the government’s failing that the wealthy don’t pay their fair share of taxes and that NASA has to work within a limited budget, so any grievances should be taken up with them. In the meantime, just as the Wright brothers and those who came after them did, these men have begun something that was inevitable: the commercialization of space travel.
FI: But won’t that just be to the benefit of their equally wealthy peers, looking for expensive joyrides?
Dr. X: At first, yes. But the forward march of scientific progress will continue. As technologies improve, costs will come down, and someday even people like yourself may get to see Earth from space — something only a few hundred have done up until now. And with that access will come even further opportunities for new scientific research and technological development. Perhaps one day these billionaires will throw some of their excess wealth NASA’s way, giving us the funding that the government is loath to give out.
FI: I can tell by the look on your face that you have some grievances with politicians.
Dr. X: Oh, you really don’t want to get me started about that.
FI: I won’t. [laughs]
Dr. X: Now, I don't like all these men. Out of professionalism, I won't say who. But not all who have assisted in humanity's scientific progress have been likeable people approved by all. Need I remind your readers that a former Nazi scientist contributed to the Apollo mission to the moon?
FI: Now that is controversial.
Dr. X: It’s true, though. Look it up.
FI: I will. But, surely you’re not comparing-
Dr. X: Certainly not. I am only stating that not all those who have contributed to scientific progress have been saints. Fair enough?
FI: Fair enough.
Dr. X: Anyway. Much like how air travel began as a venture for the few and well-off, then slowly grew to become accessible for all, what these men are doing may well set the stage for all of humanity to take full advantage of space.
FI: As some have said, mankind is destined to become a spacefaring species.
Dr. X: Yes, surely. We must. Our future will depend upon it, one way or another.
FI: To wrap things up, do you have a message for young people, or anyone else who has a passion for science?
Dr. X: Yes. Don’t give up, even if it’s hard, unpopular, or there are naysayers standing in your way. Persistence is a scientist’s best asset. And, stay curious, and seek the truth.FI: Well said. Thank you for speaking with us today.
Dr. X: It was my pleasure.
Xeno looked up at Stanley, having finished reading the article. Moments later, Stanley met Xeno’s stare.
“That… was good?” Stanley said. “I kinda feel bad for the guy who interviewed you, though. You were a handful,” he said with a slanted smile.
Xeno chuckled. “I only told the truth,” he smiled back. “I’m surprised they left as much as they did. I liked the ‘This interview is not endorsed by NASA’ line at the end.”
“Think you’ll get in trouble?”
“What can they do? Fire me?” Xeno scoffed. “I’m one of the best minds they have. They’d be foolish to let me go.”
“That’s a big head ya got there,” Stanley teased, taking another sip of his coffee. “Well, it’ll get tongues waggin’ for sure.” He finished his coffee, placing it on the table and leaning back. “So, someday people like us could get to visit space?”
“Mm. It may be possible within our lifetimes.”
“It’d be great to go up there with ya. Especially if your work made it possible,” Stanley smiled.
Xeno laughed softly. “Well, it won’t be for some time yet. Surely there will be someone you’ll want to go there with by then more than me.”
Stanley scoffed. “I doubt it. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather see outer space with than my nerdiest friend,” Stanley said with a lopsided grin.
Xeno smiled back. “I’ll reserve a seat for you then. My treat.”
“Sweet. Though, we’ll probably be like, eighty by the time that happens...”
“Hmm, perhaps. Maybe a bit sooner.” Xeno’s eyes wandered down to Stanley’s shirt pocket. “We’ll just have to make sure we live that long, then.” He swiftly reached over and pulled the pack of cigarettes out of Stanley’s pocket, holding them just out of reach teasingly.
“Oh, dirty trick,” Stanley laughed. “Give those back.”
Xeno dodged Stanley’s attempt to grab the pack. “Nope. Not until you promise me you’ll quit.”
“Not. Fair.”
They dueled for a few moments, Xeno playing keep-away with the pack, until Stanley made a quick, decisive strike, catching the pack in his hand before Xeno could react.
“Got it,” Stanley smirked, tucking it into his pants’ pocket for safekeeping.
Xeno frowned at him. “Stan…”
Stanley saw the look on his friend’s face, and sighed. “Alright. I’ll try.”
Xeno smiled again. “That’s all I ask.”
He lifted his own coffee cup, reaching it forward for a toast. “Per aspera ad astra.”
Stanley picked up his cup, his smile reemerging. “What you said.”
Their cups met with a soft tap.
Spring, 5750
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Xeno sighs, stroking the metal of his newly-built rocket engine and smiling fondly at the memory that had returned to him.
“Looks like our dream will come true soon enough, Stan…”
He looks up to the clear sky, imagining the rocket that will someday fly into that wild blue yonder.
“...How elegant.”