Giovanni was trying very hard to learn. A little too hard.

He knew this wasn't a vacation. Obviously, he knew. Humankind was at great risk. He knew that too.

Now did he understand the whole statistics of it all? No. Was the science mumbo jumbo he was hearing giving him a migraine? Totally. Did he understand any of it? Absolutely not.

But he could certainly try. Giovanni also wanted to know why everyone was so grumpy toward him. Grumpy wasn't even the right word. Indifferent, aloof, and stiff were more like it.

Although Dr. Foxxman was the only one with enough guts to actually hand his ass back to him, the other passengers did not exactly welcome him with open arms. They barely even said a word.

Nevertheless, the next two weeks began with the newly-appointed Commander passing around the supposed Shuttle Memoranda. The papers were spiral-bound together and significantly heavy.

This was no memorandum. It was a mini textbook at best.

Giovanni glared at Logan as he got closer and handed one to the man beside him. The AA lady called him the Command Module Pilot earlier.

Logan mirrored his dark look when he dropped a memorandum in his lap. "Read it" was all he said.

No shit, doctor was on the tip of his tongue but he held it. There was a reason he flunked through school, for Christ’s sake.

He leaned back in his seat with furrowed brows, staring intently at the book in front of him. His eyes darted back and forth across the pages, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar jargon and complex concepts.

Giovanni flipped through the pages, searching for some sort of explanation that would help him grasp the subject matter. Any subject matter. He ended up reading the same paragraph over and over again, as though the words were written in a foreign language.

Despite his frustration, Giovanni refused to give up. He thought of his phone, which he was asked to surrender before getting on the flight. Google would be a huge help right now.

Forty minutes later Logan emerged from the sleeping deck and Giovanni hurried to flip through the pages. Every word sounded like gibberish to him and his head hurt.

Most of the other passengers were through with it now and they went about the vehicle to begin their next tasks. Giovanni scowled. How rude.

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He was no astronaut. How the hell was he supposed to digest this shit?

Giovanni debated telling them so in colorful words, but the only thing that would achieve was a certain someone reminding him that he wasn't supposed to be here. And the Lord knew he'd had enough of Dr. Foxxman to last an entire week.

"Are you okay, sir?"

Giovanni waited ten seconds before looking up. His head was seriously banging. That was when he realized his head was buried in his hands. He must have been like that for a while.

"You good?" the voice asked again.

Giovanni sat up. "Totally."

Dr. Foxxman, for some reason, saw it as an invitation to slide into the seat beside him. "Could have fooled me."

Giovanni picked up the book and resumed his useless attempts at assimilation. Once more he forced himself to read through a full page of science mumbo jumbo.

By the time he was done, there was a dull ache in his temple yet he still didn't understand anything.

"Do you need help?"

He laughed. "Why would I need any help?"

"You look like you're about to get a brain freeze."

"Excuse me?" The man sure liked to speak his mind. Giovanni scoffed again. What a pompous prick.

That Blessing lady was by the pilots' seats now. There was a beeping device in her hands which she used to scan her face. He recalled Logan calling it a Xianometer earlier.

It was used to measure the level of the chemical imbalance in a person's body or something like that. The gist of it was that it showed whether a person was nauseous enough to pass out due to motion sickness. If it was too high one would have to take a self-imposed time out.

At least that was what Giovanni understood. Logan invented it a few years ago.

Through the side of his eye, Giovanni could see the said man sitting with his arms crossed, as though waiting to be asked for help. Genius, yes, but pompous, nonetheless.

"I don't need you to dumb anything down for me."

It was probably his imagination, but he heard the man chuckle beside him, arms still crossed over his chest. “I don't think that's even possible. Those are very complex terminologies."

"You're telling me."

Suddenly the book disappeared from his hands. Logan glanced through a couple of pages and then proceeded to explain it in layman's terms.

He fleshed out the part about the shuttle's capabilities, the instruments on board; what they did, and when they would be needed. He expatiated on the working shifts, deck duties and something called EVA.

"To function properly, we all require adequate sleep. As a result, I made certain that the crew members' pre-flight circadian rhythms were not disrupted. After removing their spacesuits, all crew members are expected to sleep at the same time. Work schedules have been carefully planned to allow for an uninterrupted— radio quiet —six to eight- hour rest period during each 24-hour period.

"To keep the crewmen from drifting in zero gravity, loose restraints will be provided. On the lunar surface, a hammock or another form of bed will be provided."

"What is a hammock?" Giovanni inquired.

"You'll know it when you see it," Logan replied, deadpan. "For comfort, there is an appropriate combination of cabin temperature and sleepwear. Anyone on the crew can dim the instrument lights, cover their eyes, or keep sunlight out of the cabin. Also, equipment such as pumps and the lights have been adequately muffled."

Lastly, he explained the eating and sleeping schedules, as well as the need for radio silence during the latter. He even had the audacity to smirk at him when he was done.

Giovanni wasted no time in snatching the memorandum back from him. A pompous prick indeed.