The pool measures 202 feet long, 101 feet wide, and 40 feet deep, extending 20 feet down from the elevated deck and then an additional 20 feet below the floor level. Its wall and floor are white, though they're smudged and darkened from years of repositioning model test stands. Spread throughout the water are life-sized component mock-ups of the ISS, looking exactly like some giant child's Tinker Toy set. Refraction causes the perspective to bend sharply away until it's obscured by the reflection of the ceilings and walls.
"Man, that is a deep looking pool," I say, leaning over to stare at the bottom of the clear water. My brain tries and fails to conjure up eloquence. It's busy, filled with thoughts of tumbling over the side.
The pool loses about 5,000 gallons per week in evaporation, and I can feel the moisture in the air. It's nothing like the awful humid summers we typically have in Houston, where the NBL is located, but the transition into the pool area does feel like passing through an insubstantial curtain. The air in the high bay smells faintly of chlorine, and it hums with pumps and machine noises. Scratchy PA announcements occasionally echo down from speakers in the distant ceiling.
