Among The Stars

Every star up there, every sun to a stellium of planets, and some people still believe we are the only life in the universe.

I used to hate gardening. One weekend, I agreed to cut my boss's lawn. At the time I was young, and the money seemed like a million bucks. But after two hours I was sweating my arse off and had done fuck all with the whipper snipper. The Sun killed my skin, leaving me to strip off dead flakes. My muscles clogged like rusty gears, and I had to crab walk to the fridge the next day. Was the money worth it? Maybe.

But believe it or not, even the most grueling jobs on Earth began seeming luxurious when compared to soaring through the vacuum of space in an actively malfunctioning clump of metal.

Alarms snapped any line of thought. Sparks flew like angry whips of a cat's tail. Every monitor showed the one word no one in space (or anywhere really) wanted to see:

ERROR.

ERROR.

ERROR.

The centre console hummed with a static screen, displaying something different than the trendy new blaring logo of danger. I clung to the top of the ladder and stared at the debris blocking my path like one big and sadistic game of space Donkey Kong. One huge slingshot off the ladder was all I needed. Maybe I'd get a little cut up, but in reality I thought it was better than waiting for the ship to tear itself apart. White-knuckled, I mapped out the path. It was either now or never. And yet, every muscle in my body refused to budge.

“You want to send me to space…?” Never in my life would I have believed those words would come out of my mouth. No, really. If I went back in time to my younger self and told him that a space adventure was in my future, he would have laughed in my face. Although, if I was to go back, I would warn younger me about that ratbag David who pinned all his crimes on me and got me into this situation in the first place.

“It's more than a ten year trip.” A woman sat across from me, her tight business suit reminding me of funerals. “Upon return you will be exonerated. Any valuable data brought back will be awarded with further compensation.”

Maybe she had just come from one… or maybe she was attending mine. I was thinking, not entirely listening.

I had noted a flicker of disdain curl on her tight, pale lips when she first walked in. A stoic mask of indifference had settled snugly onto her face when she sat down.

“If I come back…” I grumbled. Even so, the temptation of getting out of there and getting paid was sounding like something to consider. What else was I going to do, rot in there for the rest of my life?

I should have just rotted in prison. The ladder had begun shaking (or maybe it was just me). Gaps peeked through the debris, exposing the centre console. You’re being a coward! Don’t think about it, just do it! My body launched itself without my total consent. I slammed my side into a crate labeled ‘FRAGILE’.

“Oomph!” I clutched my ribs. Pain flared up. I was hardly able to catch my breath before hurling directly into the opposing wall. Glass sliced into my arms, sending droplets of blood floating through the cabin.

More alarms buzzed, and the added slosh in my stomach meant the ship was moving faster. The ‘FRAGILE’ box spun back around for another round. I launched myself, arms outstretched. Glass flakes nipped into my skin. I reached the box, grabbing the top and vaulting over it. The momentum propelled me forward. Another stretch outward brought me within an arm's length of the pilot's chair. Nails grated against the material. I was thrown past, sailing into the wall of monitors head first.

Darkness.

“No matter what angle you look from, you see life.” Dad said stupid stuff like that when he was drunk. He always had a fascination with the stars and planets when he was drunk. I couldn't tell you how many times he pointed out Venus or Saturn. From my point of view it was nothing more than a landscape of boring white dots. I wanted to go back inside. I was cold and had been dragged from my room to be out there staring up at something I had seen a thousand times before.

“Uh huh,” I muttered, shivering. He pointed up at a blinking white dot making its way over the canvas. I recognised it as a satellite immediately. I lost it quickly.

“It would look clearer if there wasn't any light pollution.” He sighed.

“I know, right?” I said, trying to sound interested. I inched closer toward the beckoning glow coming from inside. He noticed.

“Aren’t you lonely? You know, staying in your room all the time?” I flinched, trying to pass it off as another shiver. Why would he say that?

“I’m not lonely.” I answered too quickly. The air felt frozen with awkward tension now. If I moved, the iceberg might crack.

His tone softened.

“If you’re ever alone, just look up. There's a whole bunch of families up there.” For a moment it felt as if he wasn't speaking to me at all.

In the darkest corner of my mind, something responded.

He looked at me. I looked back. He opened his mouth, his lips sounding out syllables, but his voice was torn apart by blaring alarms. One thing remained.

Laughter.

ERROR.

ERROR.

ERROR.

I swatted at the air. A sharp jolt of pain erupted from my left palm. I woke up screaming and disoriented. A church bell went off in my skull. The lights seemed brighter. I moved to cover my eyes, thankfully noticing the shard of glass protruding from my palm. I followed a clump of red liquid that bounced off surfaces and debris. My non-injured hand found the source of the liquid: a split on the back of my head. Pain hooked its fangs deeper as I pressed on the sensitive area.

Everything gradually came back into focus. As I floated above the ladder once more, a screeching sound drew my attention. The centre console had spun around, one of its screws having come loose. I reached down, retreating onto the ladder.

The light still seemed too bright.

Debris moved in shifting pathways. When one opened, another closed. Just like Maze Runner, I thought. Except gravity didn’t work like that. With each pathway memorized, a new one took its place. ‘FRAGILE’ box, swarm of glass shards, a monitor, empty food packet, keyboard, opening, ‘FRAGILE’ box, monitor, clump of splayed wires, opening… damnit. If I messed up again, I wouldn't have another chance.

The entire ship groaned for a moment. I hadn't noticed it before, but the room had gotten hotter. The worn tank top stuck to my skin, the white fabric painted with blood and sweat. Uncut hair plastered itself to my forehead. Half of the screens suddenly sparked out of power, the other half buzzing with static. The centre console was still on, maybe more grainy, but on. The smell of burning metal filled the cockpit.

Wait, burning? This was space was it not? Unless…

The ladder began to shake once more. I clambered down, dread coursing through my veins. Gravity was heavier.

The lower chamber of the ship was just as much of a mess as the cockpit. Similar objects and debris floated around and crashed into one another like a space landfill. The smell of burning metal followed me. I unlatched a sweaty palm, reaching out and brushing away an empty water sleeve. My breath hitched. Instinctively, my eyes tried to widen only to recoil.

Oh, fuck.

“This will be where you will eat, sleep, and whatever else you do.” I had learned her name was Lucy. Not from her, of course, but because her folder had her name on it. She gestured around the cramped space, her movements reminding me of how real estate agents gave tours of houses.

“I don’t do that kind of stuff,” I said, leaning against the doorway, a smug grin creasing my cheeks.

“Don’t do what?” she asked, tilting her head back with an eyebrow raised. She tapped impatiently on her folder.

“You know…” I frowned. I hadn't expected to be caught so off guard by her question. I opened my mouth. She raised a hand, shutting me up. Probably for the better.

“Are you going to step in or not? You’re going to be living here for a long time.” She folded her arms over her chest, sticking out one hip and tilting her head to the side. Her lips, pursed into a tight line, lifted at the corners ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I know. I read the contract or whatever.” I glanced down, my eyes flicking back and forth from the flat steel floors of the ship to the grated bridge that locked the ship in place.

“I told you that when—” She sighed, rolling her eyes at my inattention. She flicked back to the claustrophobic space, muttering something. Her eyes landed on the ladder embedded in the wall. “You don't need to go in the cockpit except in an emergency. If that happens, reach the centre console.”

Her words pierced through the staring contest I was having with the doorway.

“The centre console has an auto-repair system, but it has to be manually activated.” She turned back to me. I nodded, saluting her. She rolled her eyes. I caught the sigh she tried to hide.

“It can’t do outside repairs. You’ll need to do that manually.” She paused, letting the words sink in. She stifled a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. You will get the proper training.” She flipped her folder open, scanning the page. “You know how to do basic electrical repairs, don’t you?”

I nodded. She must have had a file on me.

“Good, that's all you will most likely need.”

“Most likely?” She didn't answer. My eyes traced around the outside of the ship now. It looked like a cross between a fighter jet and a science class model rocket. The ground below stretched to the point where I almost threw up. I quickly stepped inside, the snug claustrophobia setting in.

“Why is this area so small if this rocket is like fifty metres tall?” Where was my furniture going to go?

“Fuel. You want to come back, don’t you?”

Couldn't argue with that. Something nagged at me.

“I’ve been meaning to ask; what's the point in sending me anyway? Can’t you just send a probe?” I walked up beside her. She gave me a blank stare.

“Classified.”

Great. I wanted to press harder, but I knew she wouldn’t budge. She turned back to what she had been facing before. An oval of thick glass looked out upon a field of tarmac.

“I’m almost jealous.”

I blinked, flicking my eyes towards Lucy. Her mask slipped. Her voice had gone eerily soft, her eyes unfocused.

“I always wanted to see it up close.”

I blinked again, raising an eyebrow. The question that popped into my head sounded dumb. She meant space, the stars, right? But the way she said it made me feel like she meant something specific.

“See what?”

The Sun.

That giant sphere of death filled the oval window.

Even squinting at it made me recoil. Oh, it wasn’t the lights getting brighter, it was just light in general. I must have been out for longer than I thought. I scurried back up the ladder. The debris had settled, growing heavier. I glanced below the maze. If I pushed myself under it, I would only get a small faceful of glass.

The threat of being the only person to ever fly so close to the Sun tended to give one motivation. Launching from the ladder, I snaked below the maze, my arms and cheeks dotted with blood as I pushed aside clumps of shards. I reached the base of the chair, pulling myself up and within reach of the centre console.

Thank fuck. It worked.

My hands flew over the screen. The auto-repair screen popped up. As it activated, the ship rumbled to life, then came a roar from the thrusters. Alarms silenced. The remaining screens turned idle, the ERROR message vanished.

Just as I felt my muscles untense, my breathing halted.

RELEASE DOCK ONE

RELEASE DOCK TWO

RELEASE DOCK THREE

EXIT AND ACTIVATE MANUALLY.

On the screen sat a blueprint with three helpful lines pointing me to my death. The blueprint showed the outside of the ship. Damage. Great.

A part of me knew this was coming. Still, that didn't stop the nausea from taking over. Now that the adrenaline was retreating, I couldn't do anything to stop the thick paste of vomit from painting the floor. Once done, I looked back to the screen. All three lines pointed to a single point on the back of the ship. That should have worried me more.

Even with the suit's insulation, the heat was unbearable. Tether, tools, oxygen, helmet, tools — everything was checked over and over again. The airlock hissed closed behind me, my hand hovering over the ‘INITIATE’ button. Now was the time for your final prayers. The button flattened, an eerie red glow flicking on before the pressure lock clicked open.

Silence.

For a moment I forgot how to breathe, the toolbox in my grip loosening ever so slightly as I was lost in the welcoming embrace of space. I tore my eyes away from the siren of space, stepping out of the airlock.

Hooks clicked into place. Each movement felt wrong, like defying gravity would get me a spot in hell. The blueprint in my mind guided me forward. Don’t get your tether caught on anything. Don’t let the slow pace irritate you. Yes, I know the suit is bulky, deal with it.

A vibration out of sync with that of the thrusters caught my attention. I looked forward, putting my hand out instinctively. Something heavy slammed into me. The ship floated from my grip. Panic exploded as I clawed for anything to grasp. Everything was still and silent.

Then force yanked me back in, slamming me against the hull.

The tether.

There wasn't enough time to regain composure (not that I had much to begin with). I kept moving. I stayed more alert, inching myself along the blueprint.

Eventually I reached the treasure.

Three sealed compartments.

They didn't seem damaged, maybe a little discoloured, but other than that…

Beside each compartment were switches, and above each switch it read:

“Dock one…” I muttered to myself.

I glanced around, noting the severely damaged areas of the ship. I glared back at the compartments before reaching out.

Three switches flipped. Three green lights.

The vibrations ceased.

The compartments slid open. Inside, nestled comfortably, were three smaller versions of the ship. Thin screens on them flicked through numbers at rapid speed.

Coordinates.

The compartments lifted from the rocket. I watched, both confused and awestruck. If you were to blink you would miss them launching from their chambers and vanishing into space.

I blinked.

My eyes scanned each pod. Two of them were gone. One remained. The numbers on the screen danced frantically, arguing over which number went where. I looked out to see where the others had gone.

I noted the lack of vibration.

The thrusters were cut off.

A gradual realization dawned on me.

Earth.

They went to Earth and left me behind.

I scrambled back to the airlock. Each hook made reality heavier. Was this why they needed manned ships? It was the Sun. Probe rockets couldn’t return because of the damage. I was there to make sure it got back.

I reached the airlock, slamming my hand into the button.

Nothing happened.

I slammed it harder.

Nothing.

Silence.

I was trapped.

I slowly drifted back towards the final probe. The numbers still argued amongst themselves. The Sun rotated into view. It was closer. Without thrusters we were being pulled in.

Strangely, I had stopped shaking.

She should be jealous.

I hadn't laughed since this began… no, way further than that. Back under the stars with my father before the accident. But facing the embers of beauty, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

People wanted one of two things: knowledge and wealth. I was no different. I hated gardening. But maybe in the future, with kids and a big backyard, I would have enjoyed it.

The probe stared up at me. Could the knowledge it carried help someone? Was it worth more than me? Would my life be meaningless if it died with me?

I gently pried the probe from its compartment, taking a closer look. The problem was easily fixed with some tinkering.

Closer.

The screen went blank before lighting up with coordinates locked in place. I expected the probe to launch. It sat patiently. The compartments must have had a spring mechanism that pushed them out once they knew the way home.

Hotter.

I unlatched a screwdriver, taking the edge and scratching letters into the side of the probe. I squinted my eyes, holding the probe out in front of me.

Perfect.

It slotted back comfortably into place.

Before it disappeared I caught the jagged letters scratched into it:

‘ERIS’

Now the entire world would know my name.

Within an instant it vanished.

The ship was deathly silent now.

I faced oblivion.

It was bright.

You were right, Dad. It wasn’t so lonely up there.

Anyone who believes we are alone has never truly looked up. Each star is a life. Some tell stories of war and destruction, while others sing of serenity and peace. Life speaks in all manner of art. We are one of those lives, and we have so much to share.