It's Rocket Science.

“It’s hardly brain surgery, Pablo.”

“I KNOW that, dummy. It’s rocket science.” Oscar was always stating the obvious. But he was good to have around in this sort of situation. I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a mad scientist when it comes to my inventions and sometimes I need someone like Oscar around to help keep me grounded.

Grounded. I suppose I should choose my words more carefully. The whole point of this experiment was to get OFF the ground. He’d be pretty defensive if I told him he was keeping me grounded. 

You see, Oscar and I are penguins. Flightless birds. Laughing stocks. “Oooh… look at the cute little penguins in their little tuxedos, waddling around… it’s adorable.” It’s patronizing, that’s what it is. I’m a Rockhopper penguin, by the way. I don’t even waddle. I hop.

So we started out in this work about 6 months ago. Our mission was humble at first. We just wanted to build a jet pack or two so we could see what it feels like to be a bird of flight. But the other penguins got wind of what we were up to and we couldn’t control the hype. 

Every penguin in the Antarctic was immediately smitten with the idea of taking off into the sky and we were flooded with more start-up capital than we knew what to do with. I’ll admit, I got carried away with the excitement and over promised.

There were a couple of problems with our plan. Although to call it a plan is pretty generous in retrospect.

First, I’m not exactly a rocket scientist. I’m just a bird with a dream and the gift of showmanship. We were short on expertise but rife with gumption. 

Second, materials were more than a little hard to come by in these parts. Oscar and I had to scavenge the ocean for debris and hope that we could scrap enough together to make something that even LOOKED like a jet pack. And then there’s the physics of the whole thing.

“We just need propellant!” I insisted to the rare investor that actually thought to ask me some difficult questions. It’s unbelievable to me that this was all I had to say before they jumped on board. Penguins really wanted to believe in the possibility of flight. It would have taken more effort to refuse their investments..

The third and biggest issue is that there’s not a single penguin out here with a credit card or a bank account. We trade in fish. All fish. And a huge pile of an extremely perishable commodity really didn’t do us a lot of good. We didn’t have a means to use it to acquire the materials we needed. Our venture capital rotted in a stinky steaming heap within days (thanks, Global Warming). We had nothing to show for it.

There wasn’t a single penguin in Antarctica that wasn’t out for our blood. You really have to try to get penguins to turn violent on you. But I suppose I have a gift.

Oscar is a loyal friend and colleague and he stuck with me through the tough times. We ended up leaving the village and have been holed up in an ice cave. We’re hoping to do our work in secrecy and come back to the village with a working prototype and find redemption. But progress has been slow.

A few days ago, things looked up. Oscar and I were out on the ice floes looking for scrap when we saw a few humans out in the distance. I hadn’t ever seen a human before, but I heard stories from a couple of people in our village. Humans had STUFF. Especially these; if you find a human in these parts, you can be pretty certain that they’re here for one thing: scientific research. We found actual scientists! I knew right away that we’d need to stow away and get over to their home base. It was sure to have everything that we needed.

We quickly did our best to hop and swim from one ice floe to another, making our way to the mainland. The humans were starting to approach their vehicle just as we arrived. Lucky for us, there was an open bed in back of their truck. I channeled all of my strength and took my strongest leap and found my way in. Oscar had a little more trouble (he had been going pretty hard on our fish bounty) but after a couple of tries and the help of my outstretched wing, he was in.

We had barely made it inside when the truck drove off. We were on our way!

We arrived at the station in no time. Oscar and I were careful to stay out of sight. We hung just behind the humans as they entered their facility and made it inside just before the door closed.

My eyes could not believe what they saw next. Everything was so bright. So shiny. So new. It was space age. Everywhere I looked there were knobs, dials and little lights. I’d say that it was the thing of my dreams, but that would be giving too much credit to my subconscious. It was beyond my wildest dreams. 

I could really make things happen if I had this sort of set-up. I instructed Oscar to duck into a closet with me and we hung out there until we stopped hearing footsteps. We’d have to work at night to avoid detection.

I intended to be very deliberate and to the point once we got out. We would search the facility for propellant, metal and other jet-packy type stuff. I was sure I’d know it when I saw it. But once we were free to roam, I realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

Oscar and I fumbled around from room to room, digging around through the materials on lab tables, in supply closets and cabinets, and on endless numbers of shelves. We didn’t leave a single corner unturned. We collected some tubes and containers and things. Perfect for the shell of our instrument. We found plenty of chemicals, but not a single human had the foresight to label one “propellant.”

“We’re going to have to run some tests,” I suggested. “Surely if one of these chemicals meets fire, it will explode. Presto wham-o. That one’s propellant.”

“So we’re just going to light all of this stuff on fire and see what explodes? Aren’t explosions usually a bad thing?” Oscar asked with way more skepticism than I was in the mood for.

“Unless you have a better idea…” I knew that was the best way to get Oscar on board with any of my plans. He hated coming up with the ideas and would do anything to avoid it.

“Nope, nope… I was just checking.” Oscar was falling right into my lap.

“Alright then. Well, there are some Bunsen Burners on the lab table over there. Let’s fire one of those up and get to work.”

I gathered all of the various bottles and jars of mysterious substances onto the lab table. I had heard that humans employed a specific method when they did science. I knew all of the steps; I was basically a scientist myself already. I had to start with a hypothesis. It was simple: “This may blow up if I set it on fire.” Next, I had to create a test. Again, easy: “Light the thing on fire. See if it explodes.”

I DID grab a pen and paper before we started and early into the experiments, I even took the time to write down each chemical before I took it to the flame. And I noted the reaction too. Some of the things didn’t do much of anything. Some sizzled. Some made the flame dance or burn hotter. But none of it had the sort of power that was going to send a penguin into the sky.

As I got through about a dozen of these tests and wasn’t getting the results I was after, I got a little impatient. I stopped writing stuff down and I started mixing chemicals as well, hoping that some sort of combination would give me the results I was after. 

I think you can guess where this is heading…mix enough potent chemicals and expose them to a flame and something is bound to blow up, right? Well that’s a mighty solid hypothesis right there. Because sure enough, I threw in a quarter heap of this and a generous pour of that. Add in a little bit of what I think came from that jar with the red cap… insert flame… KAPLOW! We were thrown from the bench and replaced by plumes of smoke. We HAD IT! 

Now… what WAS it? 

“SO THAT’S WHY SCIENTISTS ARE SO DANG PRECISE!” I exclaimed. “YOU NEED TO BE ABLE TO REPRODUCE THIS STUFF. Or at LEAST know how you got to the point you’re at.” I had done no such thing.

I tried a couple of times to recreate the concoction that led to my explosion. It took a couple of attempts and we accomplished a few minor explosions. Oscar and I were down quite a few feathers when I gave up on that approach. 

“Lets just take ALL of this stuff and put it into some glass tubes and put them inside a pack. You’ll light them on fire and I’ll be kissing the clouds”

We spent the night building and refining the jetpack. We stuffed it full of pretty much every bottle of everything we found in the lab. As daybreak approached, we returned to the closet to hide. Much as I wanted to fire up the jet pack and fly into the village in style, I knew it would have to wait until we were in front of everyone. We’d have to wait for another car to drive out near our village. Thankfully, by late morning, we heard a group of scientists preparing to do some field work and we got back into the bed of their truck.

We made it back to our village just before lunch. The penguins were starting to gather with their fish just as we approached. They were defensive and wrapped their wings around the fish tightly, looking at us with a mix of anger and skepticism.

“I DID IT!” I announced as the group was obviously working to distance themselves from me.. “I HAVE CREATED THE JETPACK!” Out loud, they did nothing more than grumble to themselves, but I did notice that everyone started moving back in towards me. I wasted no time. “FIRE ME UP, OSCAR!”

Oscar came up from behind and held a flame to the openings in my tubes. With a thunderous clap, I was sent soaring!

Now, I hadn’t considered my descent. But gravity is nothing if not consistent. There was really only one option for what would happen next.

Just as quickly as I ascended, I went down. As I got closer to the earth, I could hear the shrill screams of terror as the crowd ran from my estimated landing space. 

Thankfully, between some soft snow breaking my fall and my skull being good and thick, the whole experiment remained rocket science. Hardly brain surgery. 

 Everyone gathered around me as I worked my way up to a seated position. They were awestruck. And horrified. They wanted to know all about my experience. But not a single one wanted to try it for themselves. Perfect. I found redemption but nobody expected anything further.

And for the rest of my days, I was known as the penguin that flew.