LOUDSPEAKER: IGNITION MINUS 45 MINUTES...
Paul Keller tripped the sequence switches at control monitor 23 in accordance with the countdown instruction just to his left. All hydraulic systems were functioniing normally in the second stage of the spacecraft booster point 1 minus 45. Keller automatically snapped master control switch to GREEN and knew that his electronic impulse along with hundreds of others from similar consoles within the Cape Canaveral complex signaled continuation of the countdown. Free momentarily from data input, Keller leaned back in his chair, stretched his arms above his head, and then rubbed the back of his neck. The monitor lights on console 23 glowed routinely. It used to be an incredible challenge, fantastically interesting work at the very fringe of man's knowledge about hmself and his universe. Keller recalled his first day in Brevard County, Florida, with his wife and young daughter. How happy they were that day. Here was the future, the good life... forever. And Keller was going to be part of that fantastic, utopian future.
LOUDSPEAKER: IGNITION MINUS 35 MINUTES...
Keller panicked! His mind had wandered momentarily, and he lost his place in the countdown instructions. Seconds later he found the correct place and tripped the proper sequence of switches for checkpoint 1 minus 35. No problem. Keller snapped master control to GREEN and wiped his brow. He knew he was late reporting and would hear about it later. Damn! he thought, I used to know countdown cold for seven systems monitors without countdown instructions. But now... you're slipping keller... you're slipping, he thought. Shaking his head, Keller reassured himself that he was overly tired today... just tired.
LOUDSPEAKER: IGNITION MINUS 30 MINUTES...
Keller completed the reporting sequence for checkpoint 1 minus 30, took one long last drag on his cigarette, and squashed it out in the crowded ashtray.