“That would be me and Smith! We didn’t all get lucky enough to have someone not completely hung over in the simulator with us... This oughta be interesting, at least,” Jane said.
The entire class, including the architectural team and the chem team, watched as Jane and Smith entered the simulator together. First we heard Jane scream, and then the barfing began. Not just her, but Smith too, puking non-stop in the simulator. Once it stopped, the instructor shook his head.
Tapping on the mic, he said, “Well, that did not go as planned, did it? If this were real, your entire team would be swimming in puke, just like you guys are now! Looks like we have about a minute until the countdown begins again.”
Their screams were audible through the thick simulator walls. The instructor made them go again though. The puking didn’t stop, but thankfully, the simulations did. Jane and Smith stepped out of the simulator covered in vomit. The smell was enough to make anyone within a couple steps of them hurl.
“Okay, well, since these two idiots couldn’t hold their shit together, you have the rest of the day off,” the instructor lamented. “Thank God, because I am so done with you guys.” He shook his head and walked away.
Chapter Six
The next two days were filled with simulations to prepare us for what was to come. This included staying in a room with low oxygen levels for hours, highly stressful situations in which someone would have to correct the flight path of a pod before collision, or even just starting a fire from scratch. The idea was to give us basic survival skills in space. Some people were able to keep their composure, others not so much. With a bit of time and conditioning, though, everyone was able to at least handle themselves during takeoff.
The night before the launch, they called a meeting to discuss the next day with us.
“Good to see you all together tonight. This is it! This is the last night before takeoff, the last night on Earth. It seems almost sacred that we all be here together right now,” Captain Idris said. “Tomorrow we launch to Circadia, an unknown planet waiting to be discovered. Any hardships we endure, any difficulties we face, and any victories we achieve from now on will be history. History that we will make, together. We have brought together some of the smartest and hardest-working people in the world. Don’t let us down. Let’s make a new world we can all be proud of.”
That night I didn’t sleep. Launch anticipation had me firmly in its grip.
WHEN MORNING FINALLY broke, I was up and waiting when a loudspeaker announcement came rolling through the halls of the dormitories.
“Please collect your things and place them in the prepared tubs. Bring these tubs with you to loading to be stowed. We will launch at 1300. Thank you.” The male voice cut out, and I looked around my room.
I glanced from the pile of things I decided to take to the small two-by-four box sitting beside my bed, then got up. I rolled each piece of clothing that I had previously folded neatly to make more room. First in were two pairs of comfortable pajamas, then two pairs of jeans. My shirts were next into the box, with two long-sleeved shirts and two short-sleeved ones. They were a bit baggy, like all of my t-shirts, and plain. As I packed my underwear, I realized I had no idea how these items were going to be washed. There was supposed to be water on Circadia, but no one was sure it would be usable. The thought made me cringe, but I kept packing. Next was my light jacket and a heavy coat because I had no idea what the weather would be like, either.
By the time all these things were packed in the tub, there wasn’t a lot of room left. Looking remorsefully at the remaining pile of belongings I had intended to bring with me, I sat on the floor and cried.
Every moment that inched closer to launch time broke my heart a little bit more. We were starting over. Completely. We had no idea how long we would be there. We were all basically still strangers, with only the clothes on our backs to go with us, and that was about it.
Gathering my emotions and packing them into a tiny box, I stood up and looked at the mound of stuff. There wasn’t much more room, but I decided to prioritize. I had to have my clothes, so that was a no-brainer, but the next things I picked were three composition notebooks and a large pack of pens. If we were going to be writing history, like Idris said, I wanted to make sure someone recorded it. Wouldn’t it be amazing to be that someone?
After delivering my tub to loading, I grabbed a quick bite to eat from the shop. It didn’t occur to me at the time it would be my last meal on Earth, so all I had was a granola bar and milk. It didn’t taste that great.
Garrett sat across from me at one of the tables. “Hey, you ready?” I asked casually.
“No, not really,” he said.
“I’m surprised. I figured Garrett Wells would be the most excited. You will be changing history, you know? Famous forever,” I said, looking up and around as the imaginary paparazzi took their pictures. The dramatics made me happy and were the easiest method of communication for me. I was best at making fun of someone in an awkward situation.
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” He rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, resigned to the idea of leaving.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t have a choice in coming here. I didn’t want to be here.”
“You volunteered just like everyone else, right?” I assumed that, like me, everyone on the
