The Space Programme trumpeted our involvement with the project. One on the ground, one in space with a probe. They dug into the archives a few hundred years and found an old programme name: Gemini. How we laughed.
Something malfunctioned, the probe wouldn’t jettison; so my brother flew on joining the probe in a fiery death. Sleeves rolled up, faces strained we listened to him sing on the radio as the static grew. Not a dry eye, he sang to himself, to us, to the world? We hailed him a foolish hero as the results from the probe poured in.