Part I: Why Rockets Fly
The community center basement smelled of fluorescent lights and old cigarette smoke. Frank Kovach pushed the last chair into a circle and set his bag of parts on the table. It was a Tuesday in September 2024, and he was fifty-eight years old, and this was his first class. There were supposed to be eight students. Four showed up. Jack Monroe, fourteen years old, arms crossed, staring at the...
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