NASA in Space

by Jenna Brotsky

CHARACTERS

DALLAS: An astronaut, beauty queen, lion tamer, award-winning photographer, fashion model, actress, and spokeswoman for several small toothpaste manufacturers. But mostly an astronaut.

L. PASO: An older astronaut, three years from retirement. Texan accent.

HOUSTON: Second most senior member of mission control.

ROGER: Newest member of mission control.

COLLEEN: Second least senior member of mission control.

AUSTIN: Most senior member of mission control.

SPEAKER AUSTIN: Austin’s voice over the speaker system (to be played by a different actor than Austin)

SETTING

It’s ten to twenty years in the future. The stage is divided in two. Downstage right is the mission control center of NASA’s Space Headquarters, currently orbiting the moon. There are a number of large impressive computers, plus COLLEEN’s laptop, sitting on a large desk-like counter. Behind the desk is a giant panel of buttons. Furthest stage right, there is a water cooler and table with sub-par spread: bagels, muffins and the like. There are two desk chairs, and one small stool or other less impressive chair. On a raised platform upstage left is the cabin of a spaceship, complete with the ship’s controls and two pilot’s chairs.

NASA IN SPACE

Jenna Brotsky

Lights come up on stage right. Enter ROGER and HOUSTON, with HOUSTON walking backwards like a college tour guide, talking.

HOUSTON: …and this is the main control room. That’s my chair over there, and that’s Colleen in hers, hi Colleen (he half-waves, COLLEEN smiles over her shoulder) and yours is right over there. (He points to the stool) And I’m sorry.

ROGER: Oh, no problem, Mr. Waters. I know I kind of got sent up last minute…

HOUSTON: Yeah, I don’t know why they’d send you up the day a mission ends. Anyway, make yourself at home, kid.

ROGER: Will do.

Looking around, he crosses over to stand by COLLEEN. HOUSTON goes over to the food spread and starts preparing something for himself.

ROGER: Uh, hi.

COLLEEN: One sec… (she types something with a flourish, then spins around in her chair to face him) Hi there! Welcome to the NASA Orbiting Moon Base. You must be Roger Thatch.

ROGER: Yeah, that’s me. And you’re… Colleen?

HOUSTON: Wait, Roger Thatch?

ROGER: Uh, yes.

HOUSTON: Seriously? And you signed up to work at NASA?

ROGER: I don’t see the problem.

HOUSTON: Come on. Roger Thatch. Roger that. It’s a little confusing, don’t you think?

ROGER: Well, it’s not really that—

COLLEEN: Oh, give him a break. It won’t be that big of a deal.

HOUSTON: Just wait until we have a situation! Then see how big a deal it’ll be.

COLLEEN: We’ll be able to handle it. I’m sure there’s something in the handbook to fix this.

Suddenly, a red light starts flashing and a siren starts up.

ROGER: Oh my god, what is that?

HOUSTON: Proximity alert! I guess Dallas and Paso are landing?

COLLEEN: What?! But they aren’t supposed to land for another twenty minutes at least! (she whirls around to face the computers again and hurriedly yanks on a headset) Dallas? Dallas, this is Colleen calling. What’s going on up there? Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. What?! No, no, no! Hang on! (she whips back to face the others) Houston, we have a problem.

ROGER: Geez, you’d think you guys would be tired of that one by now.

HOUSTON: What one? You know what, never mind, first tell me the problem, Colleen.

ROGER is visibly confused, and then makes a face of realization as COLLEEN starts speaking.

COLLEEN: Man, Houston, you’re not gonna believe what’s going on up there. Dallas says they can’t land because… because…

HOUSTON: Because?

COLLEEN: Yeah, you really aren’t gonna believe it. Let me put Dallas on the screen. (she turns around and starts pressing buttons)

HOUSTON: Oh god, no, do not make me talk to her—

Lights go up on stage left. Both PASO and DALLAS have their backs to the audience.

DALLAS: Hello! Hello? Colleen, where’d you go?

COLLEEN: Screen’s behind you, Dallas.

ROGER: Dallas and Houston? What are the odds?

DALLAS twirls around in her chair. She’s in a spacesuit. Her hands are clasped in distress, but she brightens when she sees the imaginary screen (facing the audience).

DALLAS: Oh, goodness, there you are! It’s so confusing, you know, ‘cause the windshield’s the other way.

HOUSTON: Dallas, think about what you just said. If the windshield is there, the screen can’t be.

DALLAS: Well, I’m the one talking on it. Shouldn’t it just be wherever I’m facing?

HOUSTON smacks a hand up to his eyes and forehead.

HOUSTON: I told you not to make me talk to her…

SPEAKER AUSTIN: What’s going on? Why’s Dallas on the big screen?

ROGER: (looks around wildly, up at the ceiling) What the— who’s that?

HOUSTON, COLLEEN and DALLAS: Austin.

HOUSTON: The station’s head. Talks over the speakers, checks in for the big problems. Cool guy.

ROGER: …Austin? As in Texas?

SPEAKER AUSTIN: I’m from Massachusetts, actually. Little town outside of Boston. But what’s going on?

COLLEEN: We have a little landing problem. Dallas?

DALLAS: Oh, Austin, it’s terrible. You see, even though I am an exceptionally talented person, you know, what with being an astronaut-beauty-queen-lion-tamer-model-actress-spokesperson and all, there are some things I can’t do.

ROGER: Did you just say queen lion tamer?

DALLAS: (laughs brightly) Oh, no no no, I said beauty queen lion tamer. Two separate jobs. But I do them both. I guess some people are just naturally gifted. (HOUSTON makes a gagging motion. COLLEEN swats him on the arm.) Except I don’t happen to be naturally gifted for landing spaceplanes.

HOUSTON: …So?

DALLAS: Well, so, normally that’s, like, no problem because I go on missions with people who can. Like Leonard. (she gestures to PASO) Except, right now, he’s asleep.

SPEAKER AUSTIN: …So?

DALLAS: So! I promised him I wouldn’t wake him up.

SPEAKER AUSTIN: But this is an emergency.

DALLAS: Austin! Are you honestly suggesting that I break my word?

ROGER: But it really is an emergency, isn’t it? I mean, aren’t you supposed to be landing soon?

DALLAS: Oh, new guy. You’re new, so you might not understand this yet, but the four-time consecutive Miss National Aeronautics and Space Administration simply cannot break her word.

HOUSTON: You must be kidding. Or is that something Miss NASA doesn’t do either?

DALLAS: (laughs at his silliness) No, no, Houston! Miss NASA can joke all she wants. But breaking my word? To the elderly?

ROGER: The elderly?

COLLEEN: She means Paso. He’s… what is it now? Seventy-nine?

SPEAKER AUSTIN: Eighty, I thought? This is his last mission.

HOUSTON: Right, so, let’s have his last mission not end in fiery death. Dallas, just poke him or something. He’ll understand.

DALLAS: But—

COLLEEN: Dallas, I’m sorry, but you need to wake him up. Protocol is very clear on this. The senior pilot of any mission needs to be awake when landing takes place.

SPEAKER AUSTIN: There, you see? NASA rules trump the Miss NASA code of conduct, I’m sure.

DALLAS: Oh, Austin, don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s no way you could understand this. You’ll never be Miss NASA. And I’m sorry Colleen, but the same goes for you. Especially not if the thing Houston said is true.

COLLEEN: …What thing? (turns to glare at HOUSTON) What thing?

HOUSTON: Dallas! Come on, now, I told you not to bring that up. God, why do I ever talk to you?

DALLAS: I’m sorry, it just slipped out! Besides, lying by omission is not something my lawyer advises me to do as spokesperson for the top twelve toothpaste firms in the Midwest. (Beat) Or as Miss NASA.

COLLEEN: Yeah, whatever, what thing, Dallas?

DALLAS: Uh, uh, well, I guess I should sign off for now. Page me if you come up with a solution to the fiery death thing!

She spins around to face the dash, mashes buttons furiously. Lights go out on stage left.

COLLEEN: What thing, Houston?

HOUSTON: Um. Well, nothing big. Just that you, uh, bat for the other team, you know. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! You should know, I’m totally supportive of it. Especially if it was, say, in front of me. In bikinis.

ROGER: Wait, what sport do you play in bikinis?

COLLEEN: Yeah, I don’t get it either.

HOUSTON: No, it’s not a real team, it’s just. Um. You know, you… prefer flowers to stems.

ROGER: Who doesn’t prefer flowers to stems? I mean, have you ever heard of a professional stem arranger?

HOUSTON: (Mentally continuing the metaphor) No! Oh god, no! No. Never. Look, I just mean… screw it. You’re gay, Colleen.

(Beat)

COLLEEN: Um. No, I’m not.

HOUSTON: Yes you are.

COLLEEN: No, I’m pretty sure I’m not. I’ve been married. In fact, you’ve seen pictures of my ex-husband.

HOUSTON: Yes, but he is your ex-husband! What does that tell you?

COLLEEN: That after six months of marital counseling we still wanted to raise our son differently and decided to separate?

HOUSTON: Or: that you’re gay! I mean, you never look at any of the guys around here.

SPEAKER AUSTIN: Oh for Chrissake, Houston, just because she shot you down doesn’t make her gay!

COLLEEN: Oh my god, Houston! Is that what this is about? Because it’s not that I’m into women, it’s that I’m not into you.

ROGER: Ooh. Ouch.

COLLEEN: I didn’t mean that to sound mean.

HOUSTON: No, I’m sure you meant your stinging rejection in the nicest possible way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go work on the fiery death issue.

He turns his chair away and wheels it as far away from her as he can go, back to the audience.

ROGER: Um… maybe we should work on that, too.

COLLEEN: Yes, but there’s nothing much we can do. Dallas is the only one on the ship with him.

ROGER: Well, what about his radio? Couldn’t we just page him on that?

COLLEEN: …Oh. Yes, yes of course! That should work. Hang on, let’s see which button goes to his mic. (She turns around and reads carefully across an enormous panel of buttons) Okay, we’ve got D. Rails (that’s Dallas), H. Waters (Houston), J.D. Austin, C. Yu (that’s me), the blank button—that’ll be yours now—a-ha! L. Paso.

ROGER: L. Paso?!

COLLEEN: Uh huh. His first name is Leonard.

ROGER: Yeah, but… (sighs) Nevermind.

COLLEEN: Now, we just press the button, and we should get— (Beat) nothing.

ROGER: Nothing?

COLLEEN: (panicky) Nothing! He’s not answering!

ROGER: Well, maybe it’s broken?

COLLEEN: Oh god, oh god, what if it is? Austin, can you—

SPEAKER AUSTIN: Just checked, don’t worry. The line doesn’t seem to be broken; all the radio equipment is fine on our end, and their ship reported no problems the whole mission.

COLLEEN: But then why won’t he answer?!

ROGER: Maybe he turned it off?

Silence. Everyone mulls this over. HOUSTON turns back around to face the others and the audience.

HOUSTON: Well, he has been locked up with Dallas for three weeks. Maybe stupidity is airborne.

SPEAKER AUSTIN: And maybe the board was right and we shouldn’t have sent him out at his age. Anyway, this is big, and I can’t do anything to help in case of crash landing if I’m—

COLLEEN: Crash landing?! Crash landing?! Austin, you don’t really think—

SPEAKER AUSTIN: Unfortunately, I do. I’m coming down to you guys.

HOUSTON: But you’ve never come down!

SPEAKER AUSTIN: What can I say, we’ve never been in this bad of a scrape before. I’ll see you all in a second. Over and out.

There’s a loud sound like a Star Trek door whooshing open. Enter AUSTIN stage right. HOUSTON’s jaw drops; he tries to pull himself back together.

ROGER: Wow, that really was a second!

COLLEEN: Oh, yeah, we have one of the best elevators ever designed.

AUSTIN: Hey guys.

COLLEEN: Austin! Hi!

HOUSTON: What? Oh, no way!

AUSTIN: No way what?

HOUSTON: You’re a woman!

AUSTIN: (glances down at herself) Good observation.

HOUSTON: You can’t be a woman!

AUSTIN: I can’t?

HOUSTON: No, I mean. Not like you can’t can’t, but just that you… and… yeah, you can’t!

AUSTIN: Um. Why not?

HOUSTON: Because! I… you… and. And your name! You have a guy name!

AUSTIN: What are you talking about? Austin’s a surname.

HOUSTON: Yeah, no duh, Austin’s a surname. You think I’m some kind of idiot?

AUSTIN: Not until today, but yeah, I’m getting there.

HOUSTON: No, look. I know Austin’s a surname. But your first name is J.D.

AUSTIN: So?

HOUSTON: So! J.D.’s a boy’s name!

AUSTIN: Not always.

HOUSTON: Oh yeah? When’s it not?

AUSTIN: Oh, gee, I dunno. Maybe when it stands for Jessica Dolores?

HOUSTON: But… then… why don’t you go by that?

AUSTIN: By Jessica Dolores? Houston, you know me. Do I seem like a Jessica to you?

HOUSTON: Well, no.

AUSTIN: How ‘bout a Dolores?

HOUSTON: Really no.

AUSTIN: So there we go. My parents named me horribly, ergo, I go by Austin.

ROGER: I’m sorry, but I kind of thought you were a man, too. I mean, on the speakers, you sounded…

AUSTIN: Oh yeah, I know. They make me sound kind of masculine.

Loud alarm bells go off, everyone jumps.

COLLEEN: That’s the ultra-proximity alert! They’re within a mile of the station, now. What do we do, what do we do?

AUSTIN: Okay, everybody stay calm. We have to be able to contact Paso somehow.

COLLEEN: How? The mic’s off, Dallas isn’t helping and even if she were, he’s a really deep sleeper!

AUSTIN: Well, there must be something!

HOUSTON: I don’t think so, doll face. These might be our last few—

AUSTIN: I’m sorry, did you just call me doll face?

HOUSTON: Uh… yes. But, come on, you’re attractive, and I always wanted to go out with a bang.

AUSTIN: Oh please! That’s like the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard.

COLLEEN: We don’t have time for this! They’re going to crash into us and we’re all going to DIE unless we find a SOLUTION!

ROGER: She’s right. Look, aren’t there rules for crises like this?

HOUSTON: Oh, sure, let’s just get out the NASA handbook and look up what to do in case of imminent explosion by spacecraft impact.

ROGER: No, not that! I mean, isn’t there a radio for emergencies? He can’t just turn off his mic in the middle of outer space without a backup, can he?

AUSTIN: No, he can’t! We have the emergency frequency! Man, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.

HOUSTON: Aw, don’t worry your pretty little head about it, doll. You probably just got too emotional to think clearly— curse of your sex.

AUSTIN: Oh really? Then why didn’t you think of it?

HOUSTON gets ready to answer, realizes he has nothing, and slumps in defeat. Beat. He straightens back up, realizes he still has nothing, and bows his head.

AUSTIN: That’s what I thought.

COLLEEN: I’ll punch the emergency frequency button.

She turns back to the panel full of buttons, and starts dragging the desk away from it. Behind the desk is one giant button marked “SNAFU.” She whacks it and more alarms go off. Lights come up on DALLAS and PASO. PASO jerks awake, and starts tugging at his helmet (it takes a moment to come off)

DALLAS: Omigawd! What are you guys doing? That sound is terrible!

AUSTIN: Oh, you know, nothing much. Saving your life.

DALLAS: And ruining my hearing in the process!

PASO’s helmet finally comes off.

PASO: Well, I’ll be hogtied! What’s goin’ on?

COLLEEN: Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! It worked!

HOUSTON: Hey, Paso! No time to explain, can you take the controls before you crash into the station?

PASO: Uh. Sure? Lemme just face the dash. (He turns around in the chair, evidently sees how close they are to the station.) What in tarnation?! Dallas, why’nt you hit the brakes? Ah, never mind, I gotta land this bird! Talk to y’all when we’re safe and sound.

DALLAS: Over and out! And shut off that noise!

Lights go out on the ship. COLLEEN hits the button again. The alarms go off, and she gives ROGER an enormous hug.

ROGER: Whoa!

COLLEEN: My hero! You saved the day!

AUSTIN: Totally! Roger, we all owe you our lives.

HOUSTON: OH! Speaking of “owe,” what are the bets this time? I’ll put five on last year’s crown.

AUSTIN: I’ll take that bet!

COLLEEN: Not me. But I’ll put five on high heels.

HOUSTON: High heels? Doesn’t she have to wear the boots?

AUSTIN: Yeah, I’d definitely put up five against that. And five on some kind of party dress.

HOUSTON: I’ll go in on both of those.

ROGER: Wait, what are you all betting on?

COLLEEN: You’ll see in a bit. Let’s get the landing pad ready.

She takes ROGER’s arm and starts showing him something on the computer. They’re clearly talking, but it’s done as a background.

HOUSTON: (crosses to AUSTIN, puts an arm around her shoulders) Well, I don’t know about you, doll, but I’m happy to be alive. What do you say we… celebrate?

AUSTIN: Houston! (She breaks away from him) What is wrong with you today? We’ve been friends for a long time, and all of a sudden you’re coming on to me? And you’re doing it really badly.

HOUSTON: Look, Austin, I’m just reevaluating our relationship. Don’t you think it’s time for a change?

AUSTIN: No, I don’t. Things are just the same as they’ve always been, except that—

HOUSTON: Now you have boobs that I can see.

AUSTIN: ...Smooth. But, yes, now you know I’m a woman.

HOUSTON: Yes, exactly! You’re a woman! And that means all the feelings I’ve been having for you over the last few months are, well, valid!

AUSTIN: You have feelings for me?

There’s a loud clunking noise.

COLLEEN: Okay, they’ve docked! They should be in in just a minute, now. (She and ROGER cross over so they can watch stage left’s wings.)

HOUSTON: Well, maybe “feelings” is the wrong word. It’s more like, I thought, “Hey, he’s funny, and cool, and if he were a chick, I’d do that.”

AUSTIN: Lovely.

HOUSTON: And now that I know you are a chick, we can do—

AUSTIN: Nothing. We can do nothing.

HOUSTON: What? Why?

AUSTIN: Because! Since you found out I was woman, you’ve been nothing but sexist and rude. I’m not even sure I want to be friends, let alone—

HOUSTON: Fuck buddies?

AUSTIN: I can’t believe I ever liked you.

HOUSTON: You liked me?

AUSTIN: I did. Not anymore.

HOUSTON: Why didn’t you say anything?

AUSTIN: Why didn’t you?

HOUSTON: Well, if you’d been honest from the beginning, I would have been too!

AUSTIN: This has nothing to do with “honesty”! This has to do with you being a jerk and me wanting nothing to do with it.

HOUSTON: Oh, sure, you want nothing to do with it, I gotcha. I guess I’m just imagining how low cut that blouse is!

Note that AUSTIN is wearing a polo with one button undone.

ROGER: (unsure) Uh, guys?

AUSTIN: This shirt is perfectly decent, and I’m hardly wearing it for you, anyway!

ROGER: Guys?

HOUSTON: Yeah? Then who are you wearing it for? Paso?

ROGER: You guys—

AUSTIN: Ugh! I swear, Houston, your head’s shoved so far up your ass it’s a miracle you can even find your way into work.

COLLEEN: (shrilly and barely contained) Shut up! Both of you shut up! They’re docking! It’s a delicate operation and we have to do it right!

HOUSTON and AUSTIN: (startled out of their fight) Sorry.

The clanking and whirring of machinery can be clearly heard from off-stage. There’s a sound like a garage door opening. Enter L. PASO and DALLAS, both in spacesuits, and remove helmets. DALLAS has a small tiara sitting atop her head.

HOUSTON: Ha!

He holds out his hand and AUSTIN hands him a five dollar bill. DALLAS and L. PASO unzip their suits. DALLAS is wearing a knee-length gown under hers.

AUSTIN: I’ll take that back now, if you don’t mind.

She snatches the bill out of HOUSTON’s hand. DALLAS and PASO are busy taking off their boots. DALLAS is wearing high heels inside hers. COLLEEN pumps her fist.

COLLEEN: (over her shoulder to HOUSTON and AUSTIN) That’s five from both of you.

They grumble, but walk over and both give her the money. ROGER raises an eyebrow, but DALLAS herself is entirely oblivious, shaking out wrinkles in her dress and smoothing her hair.

PASO: Well, now, it’s good to be back at the station. Sorry about the little scare I gave y’all. Dallas ‘splained on the way in how my little nap almost cost us our lives.

COLLEEN: Oh, don’t worry about it. No big thing.

HOUSTON: No big thing? We all almost died!

AUSTIN: Go easy on him! After all, it’s Dallas’ fault.

DALLAS: Hey! That’s not fair! As Miss NASA, I have to keep my word.

HOUSTON: And as an astronaut of NASA, you have to take an aptitude test. How in the hell did someone as stupid as you ever pass? What’s our next mission’s copilot: a brick wall? Because if you qualify, it certainly would!

DALLAS: You are so mean sometimes! Austin, I can’t believe you like this guy! (Beat) Oops.

AUSTIN: (sighs) It’s okay, the damn cat’s already out of the bag. And I don’t like him anymore. I should get back to the booth anyway. Welcome home, Paso. (She stalks off angrily: exit stage right.)

DALLAS: Ooh, snap! Tell me, Houston, how does it feel to have been rejected by three of three female coworkers?

COLLEEN: None of whom are gay, for the record!

DALLAS: None?

COLLEEN: None.

ROGER: Wait, three of three? Does that mean—

HOUSTON: Unfortunately, yes. She hadn’t opened her mouth yet, or I would never have tried.

DALLAS: Hey!

HOUSTON: Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go catch up to the woman of my drea— I mean a really hot woman who I want to have a lot of sex with.

HOUSTON exits awkwardly, stage right. As nears the wings, he starts running a little faster.

PASO: Well, I’m fixin’ ta take the rest of that nap. I’ll see y’all later, then. (He exits stage right)

ROGER and COLLEN: Bye, Paso.

DALLAS: Bye, Leonard! I should go, too. My fans are probably eagerly awaiting my triumphant return to Earth, so, I gotta update the Dallas website.

ROGER: The what?

DALLAS: My website! Double u double u double u dot dallas rails superstar dot com. I told everybody that I’d be back to Earth today, and I’m sure all nineteen of my readers are waiting for the next update!

ROGER: But… you’re not on Earth. You just returned to the orbiting moon base.

DALLAS: (Beat) Do you have a point?

ROGER: …No. Nice to meet you, Dallas.

DALLAS: It sure is. Bye, guys! (She exits stage right as well, a little unsteady on her heels)

COLLEEN: Bye, Dallas!

ROGER: Bye. Wow. So, that’s Dallas.

COLLEEN: That’s Dallas.

ROGER: Geez. Hey, I wonder if Houston caught up to Austin?

COLLEEN: I’m not sure it matters. He’s not only blown his chances, he’s… dropped nuclear bombs on them.

ROGER: Yeah, really. I guess inner-station romances don’t tend to work out, huh?

COLLEEN takes a step toward ROGER, puts a hand on chest and looks up at him, smiling coyly.

COLLEEN: Not necessarily. I can think of one that might work just fine.

ROGER: (Surprised) Oh.

Hesitantly, they lean in, and kiss. It lasts a little longer than either of them expect. They pull back and smile.

ROGER: I think I’m gonna like working here.

Lights out. Curtains drop.