A lighthearted female voice rang out, “We will begin loading at this time. Please align yourself with your team. We will take teams by names assigned, alphabetically. Once one team has left in the elevator, the elevator will make its way back down to the lobby. Once the elevator has returned, the next team will come up. We thank you for your patience and cooperation.” The sweet voice cut out.
“Okay, then. Guess that means the Agricultural Team is up first,” said Spencer, clapping his hands together. “Let’s do this!” As he began walking towards the elevator, the rest of the team followed suit.
Hesitation overwhelmed me as I stepped onto the elevator. Was I really ready for this? We laughed and joked the whole way up, but everything felt surreal. The air in my lungs caught in my throat and threatened to suffocate me.
Once the door opened, we were greeted by Captain Idris. “Alright! Let’s get these MACE suits on and get this show on the road!”
Bright orange suits lined the metal mesh wall, waiting for us. Idris quickly handed each of us a suit and assisted us in putting them on over our white suits. They were heavy and bulky but made me feel more at ease.
MACE stood for Modified Advanced Crew Escape suits. Basically, if anything bad happened during launch, they were equipped with anything you could possibly need to survive. Individual knives, rope, and even lifeboats were packed into survival backpacks attached to the suit. Heavy helmets locked on, as well as gloves. They were bright orange to stand out and be noticed. There wasn’t a thing on the MACE suits that didn’t serve a purpose.
We quickly slipped them on and made sure everything was secure then donned our helmets, checking that they locked on correctly and that the built-in headsets were functioning properly. Communication would be nice, but once the launch began they would be shut off until we were stable. The flight crew would be able to communicate with each other, but for passengers it was unnecessary.
Lack of communication scared me, but also put me at ease. If I needed to cry, no one would hear me.
Once completely outfitted, Captain Idris helped us into the craft. Since it was situated horizontally until the moment just before liftoff, it wasn’t too difficult to get strapped in. The repeated simulations had prepared us for this. Checking twice to see that our straps were secure and fastened appropriately, he gave us a salute and dashed off to get the next team wrapped up. We all ensured that the oxygen feeding our suits was functioning properly and sat back to relax.
Once I was securely fastened, I took the time to look over our quarters. The stark white walls were bright, as were the seats. There seemed to be secured compartments inside the walls and there were no windows to look out of. Not being able to see outside scared me, and I felt my heart flutter for an instant. I calmed myself, though. I didn’t need to see outside. It was probably better this way. For something they made such a big deal about, it didn’t seem like this was going to be so bad. That was before my mind went crazy while waiting.
Being the first team to be loaded into the craft turned out to be the worst thing ever. We waited for what seemed like hours. Deafening silence inside our helmets echoed screams of anxiety. We sat next to our simulation partner, and the rest of the team sat in rows of two in front of us to put our minds at ease and make it feel more like the simulation. But I couldn’t have been further from calm. The beating of my heart pounded in my ears, until a voice came through our headsets.
Captain Idris spoke clearly. “We are all loaded onto the craft and will begin takeoff preparations shortly. Please be patient, and remain calm. In a couple minutes, the craft will turn vertically to align with the accelerators. Don’t be alarmed. Once we have reached a stable situation after takeoff, communication will come back up.” There was a long silence, until he added, “Let’s hope for a safe trip, okay, folks? See you on the other side.”
The radios cut off. I looked down to see my hands trembling. A few moments later, through the helmet, I heard a loud crash, and then we started to tilt upwards. Leaning my head back and wrapping my arms around my torso, I tried to relax. Slowly we turned until we were lying on our backs, looking up toward the front of the craft where a wall blocked us from seeing the flight crew. All we could see was the back of the seat in front of us and a white wall.
Realizing there would be no warning for the lift-off, I panicked. Quickly grabbing at my straps, I began to look around, frantic. Hyperventilation came quickly, and my helmet began to fog up. The claustrophobia and anxiety already present gripped me tightly, until I felt a hand grip my leg. Attempting to see through the fog of my helmet, I saw Garrett’s face through his visor. Mouthing words to me, since we couldn’t hear each other, his lips moved to say, “It’s okay. Calm down. I’m here.” Slowly the fog started to dissipate, and I could see him more clearly.
He held onto my leg, and I held onto his hand with both of mine. When the ship began to lift, the roaring was unimaginably loud. The entire craft shook but I never let my eyes leave his. I felt tears stream down my face into my ears and quiet sobs left my lips, but I never once looked away. Neither did he.
After about five minutes of commotion, everything became smooth. No more shaking, no roaring noises, just calm. Shortly after a voice came in through our headsets. “Houston, we have left
