The Heavy Space

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The nervous beats, overcoming one's body, that feeling of fear corroding your insides whole, while externally frozen in fear. The shrieking sound so deafening, that it nearly sounds exactly like the silence, that’s always bound to come. I sometimes wonder, if we all screamed at full loudness all at once, would it sound just like our silence?

I wake up from my dreamless sleep, to the cool air coming from the side vents of my bed, letting me know that it is 6 am, and that it is time to get up. Because of the nature of my position here a Ervandelise Mission Base, it’s best to find a non auditory way of waking the team up, so that we won’t be anxious during our missions. I don’t think I’ve had a dream since 3970, 3 years ago, when I had made the half year mark of my training.

The black sleeping is something I’ve gotten used to. But it doesn’t come without its downsides. People can recall memories immediately, especially when confronted with something sensory from that memory. Maybe you'll hear a song and recall the first time you danced with your partner, feel a chill and remember the first time you’d gone ice skating, or taste icecream and remember when your parents let you eat it for the first time. All beautiful things that we hold dear, things that we can hold onto, as long as we can hold onto our minds.

Because of my space traveling, our memories slowly become, every feeling attached to thought, attached to sense, wiped. We have to focus on the mission. Focus on staying there. So I can recall memories at only an extremely small level, and my senses have become detached. With every waking day I forget more and more about my life, because I can’t feel it. As a person who grew up during the beginning of the war between Earth and Gianzia, I lived through the 12 year war, destruction, the murdering of families, the orphaned children, and devastated society. I can’t remember losing my parents now, or what they looked like. But I can’t feel the loss of them anymore either.

I walk out of my room, and walk this long corridor that goes past the rooms of all of my peers on base. The worst part of the morning is walking down this long, gray hallway, lined with yellow and red tape, for 10 minutes to reach the rest of the site. My room is at the end of this dreaded corridor. It's a suffocating place to be, and the faster you walk, the more intense the claustrophobia feels. It gives me a slow warming feeling, like an oven preheating, until it gets the hottest it’s supposed to, and stays at that constant heat. It seems like my body’s natural response to not knowing something, feeling that something is happening I haven’t figured out. Like something is coming, that I'm not prepared for. And just like that, POP!

“Fuck, De’, you think you’re so funny!” I yell with my head down, as Deon cups my entire neck downwards with his large hand. “You know I hate that, especially in the morning.” I worm my way out of his hand and start to walk as fast as possible to get away, and I walk pretty fast.

“I know, I know. But I only did it… because you can’t stay upset, on your birthday.” He pants and smiles as he jogs alongside me. For someone 6’1, he can’t seem to catch up with someone a foot shorter, and that made me feel just a little better.

“Oh, I can’t?” I smirk, and walk even faster, and now he's running. The fact that I can beat him cheers me up immediately.

“Fine! I’ll give you your present after the mission then!” He yells, defeated, from down the corridor with his arms outstretched, as if he thought this would’ve made me turn back. On any other day I might've, but he annoyed me so early, and so I'm not going to let him have that.

When I make it to the cafeteria, only 6 of us are here. We don’t need to be ready until 8:30, but the early bird catches the worm, that worm being the not cold cinnamon apple oatmeal and coffee.

The news about what’s happening back on Earth is always playing, Leader Jegol renewing the peace treaty with the Gianzian Leader, his reelection, the creation of 24,000 new schools for all of the children over the years who’ve been left without shelter or educations. Things were never good before the war had started, but at least the worst possible outcome of war seems to be over, and things are starting to return to our normal amount of shitty.

“I would like to thank Chenoli Mattsurben, Gianzia’s leader for coming to our wonderful planet this past weekend to renew our treaty, so that our worlds can coexist in peace. Our wonderful shared planet, Jidusa is being explored day after day, by our brave team up at Ervandelise Base site, all in hopes to create a foundation for life in our territory within the next 3 years. We will build and expand our community, and be a united people once again.” The Leader speaks with such passion, and I want to believe that we'll be able to live on Judisa soon, but that can’t happen with the rate that we’re losing troops.

“Hey, he recognized us!! It’s been a while, considering that we're at this, like, everyday.” Lisanne chimes, raising her fork with a peach on it.

“C’mon be grateful he’s even said anything considering that Earth is still 3 minutes away from collapsing.” Greg laughs into his food, like the terrible state of our home is amusing. I think that must be how he copes.

“I’ll be grateful when he sends me some better fuckin’ food. We’ve been eating the same chicken stew for about 3 weeks, and we were promised a menu change.” Justin grunts at his oatmeal, dreading taking another spoonful.

“Listen, I like our food, and that’s because I have TASTE.” Adri clicks her tongue like this is the most affirmative statement she’s ever made, and all at once, everyone starts shouting about how she must be joking.

“...raveler Emerson Segura, who lost his life during a mission 3 months ago today, on August 21st. May his death not be in vain, nor the 1,978 deaths of our brave travelers within the past 8 years. May our God rest their souls, and let’s make our world better, in their honor.” the 135 by 207 inch screen buzzed his name, and all went silent. 3 months.

“Honja, are you alright?” Lisanne is next to me, and puts her arm around me and asks me, peach and oats still on her breath. The peach smell made me feel a pang of anxiety, but I didn’t move away. Everyone looked at me with slight pity, and awaited my response.

“I’m okay guys, thanks. I appreciate the concern.” I politely shake off her arm and eat another spoonful of my oats, as everyone watches.

“Woah, wait, isn’t it… your birthday?” As Greg finishes the word birthday the smile on his face grows exponentially larger. Now everyone is staring again, but this time with smirks. Anything is better than pity. “You know what that means. BIRTHDAY BATH” he yells, and I dread what comes next.

Because there isn’t much we can do when it comes to birthday celebrations, we work with what we’ve got. Whatever we’ve got an abundance of on that day it gets thrown at the birthday person. And we all happen to be eating the same oatmeal this morning.

It comes so fast, from every angle. SPLAT, SPLAT. It’s getting everywhere. I can feel the different consistencies of everyone's breakfast, sticking to or sliding down my arms, the breast of my uniform, on my newly cleaned shoes, and worse- my newly washed coils. I am not in the mood to redo my hair, but I’ll have to.

The main cafeteria door slides open and Commander Jones comes in. Fucking fantastic.

“Mission Travelers,” he says, as we all stand up straight at once in our places. I can tell he knows what’s happened but he is definitely not thrilled about it. “Mission Traveler, Honja Heraldson.”

“Yes Sir.” I assert, with oatmeal floating in my bangs.

“You are first to travel today, you have one hour to be cleaned up and ready to go.” He looks me up and down, expressionless. I’d like to think he’ll go out the door and laugh about this, rather than leave the room irritated, which is most likely what he actaully does.

“Yes Sir.” I hold my composure, and then hear Greg mumble “First, on her birthday?”, and I can’t help but turn and wince. I am fine with my orders, and I don’t need the commander thinking I care about my birthday more than the future of our humanity.

“Oh yes, happy birthday, MT Honja” he gives a polite smile, but I can tell it took great effort to even do that. He turns, and puts his hand behind his back and heads for the door. Right before exiting, he says, “Everyone else has 30 minutes to completely clean this up, or it’s oatmeal for dinner. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste” he turns his neck back to us, “Right?”

“Yes Sir, I mean, NO SIR!” Lisanne asserts as she trembles. She’s a new MT. She's still got her senses at 100%. Her memories aren’t yet wiped either. I can only hope she treasures them.

I rinse the goo out of my hair, dreading to have to de-dry it in order to participate in my mission. As the oat rinses down my back, I feel a slow burning warmth in the middle of my torso, the middle clenching, heating and heating. I decide that I am feeling this way because of the Leader mentioning Em. It has been 3 months since the day I lost him. We all did, but we knew each other before Ervandelise. 15 years. The only loved one I can remember, because we had the chance to create new memories, new moments, and when the old ones were nearly gone, we could replace them with the present. But now, there is no present. And I have to deal with the fact that I’ll never get to create a new moment with him, and that at some point, I won't remember him for everything he was. I may even forget what he looks and sounds like. And I haven’t been able to digest that realization yet, or at least my body hasn’t. But it is only a matter of time before the Void starts.

I’ve got the suit on, and all I need is my helmet fastened, and my Exdocazine shot, that’ll help me stay outside for a longer period of time. The Equipment Technician reaches to help tighten my helmet, and after she's sure that it's sealed, she gives me my shot, and says “All set!” with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Most of them are like this anyway, polite distant, and unfeeling, so it doesn’t bother me. She goes through the thick and heavy door behind me and presses a button to close it.

This door takes about 15 seconds to close, so I always stand and see if I can do a difficult math problem before the time is up. Em taught me to do this when we first trained, so I wouldn't be so nervous. Today the number that pops in my head is 3975, which is random to me, but also in our decade so maybe it's not completely random. But somehow, this number makes me feel uneasy. Or maybe it’s the shot. I try to square root my number, instead of dwelling on it.

The square root of 3600 is 60, 3975 minus 3600 is 375… wait I don't think that's how you do it? Fuck let me start over. So-

And the timer is over. It goes black for what always feels like forever, and then the door opens, to enter the vestibule that leads to space. I walk through, and this door closes much faster than the other, but not at a specific time that I could ever confidently relay, because it feels different every time. Finally the door going out to space opens up, and I’m on Earth’s territory of Judisa.

I walk around, doing my normal round of putting sensory indications for the rovers to explore where there may be inhabitable areas underground. Because it's not completely safe to breathe up on the land without an oxygen tank, and there are some spots where breathing is impossible, we have to proceed carefully. Unless we are underground, where there is inhabitable land and enough air to breathe, we should always have our oxygen tanks supplying us through our helmets.

I feel an unusual weight come over me, and then I feel that warmth, again, in my core. It keeps getting tighter and tighter. I fight it off for about a bit, before I call to go back. I can usually do this for longer, but I start to feel heavier and heavier, and hotter, and like I can’t breathe, and I begin to think there may be a crevice in my helmet.

“MT H Heraldson, I think my helmet may be compromised, I’ve got to go back, I don’t think I'm safe in the area I’m currently scouting. Permission to leave site.” I say, the pant in my request growing with every word.

“Permission granted Mission Traveler. Proceed QUICKLY, and with caution of your area.” says the Mission Director whose voice I don’t recognize. I’ve never met any of them, so this isn’t odd, but he must be new. He is one of 6 we’ve had this year.

Somehow, when he says quickly, I feel like I’ve got all of the power in the world, and the walk begins to feel shorter, and shorter, until I am back at the base door, feeling like it's only been a fraction of what it took to cover all of the ground I did. I’m not complaining though, and I wasn’t keeping track either.

When I get back, the ET helps me take off my helmet, and quickly scurries off examining it, with great force. She had turned and twisted it so fast, it’s amazing to think that she could see anything that fast, but it is her job. I strip my suit and my huge bun droops down, like it hasn't dried much since I had washed it earlier. Was it more damp than when I went in? Most likely it was sweat. Since the new procedure changes last nearly a year ago, my hair has been feeling more moist, but it must be the new suits that we got when the base was upgraded.

I leave the Mission Sendoff Center, and walk for about 7 minutes to my room, to take a short nap, because for some odd reason I feel more tired than usual after a mission. It's a quiet walk back to my room, except for the buzzing of air vents and machinery attached to the entirety of the ceiling, that come down at least a foot and a half. I don’t enjoy hearing the machinery, so I think about a new song I heard on the radio the other day and sing it to pass time. I like to find songs to fill the silence because it’s nice to know that I can learn, and remember things for at least a little while. The new song is As The Rain Falls.

The tension in the air, the wind and rain in your hair, oh baby I wanna stop and give you all of my love, and be with you until I see the sun, but If I couldn't see it again I’d be okay, because when the rain falls, you’re my conscious, you make it a beautiful day.

I always question why the word is conscious and not conscience, but I can’t exactly ask Lester Badrol, can I.

I enter my room, sit carefully inside my bed, and set a timer for 15 minutes. The capsule door closes, and I lay there and feel myself falling asleep. I feel my damp loose bun on my neck, almost acting as a pillow. And like that I’m out.

“…ja. honja, HONJA!” I see gray sand and hear a familiar voice calling for me in the distance. It sounds like Emerson.

“EMERSON!” I yell back and start running. The farther I run the more and more water that surrounds my feet, like something I can faintly imagine from before the war. I run and run, and I see more water, until it’s up to my torso. I can’t go towards him and farther.

“HONJA, FIRES-” he gurgles these words as I frantically try to get to him. “FIRES-” he gasps, like he can't breathe.

“EMERSON I”M COMING!” I am frustrated and I feel an urgency like I might die, or like he might die. I throw all my body weight forward but it's not enough, and I feel like I’m not moving.

“FIRESPRAY” he screams in agony, and I hear one last gasp, and then nothing.

“Emerson? EMERSON?” All I can hear now is my thrashing. I feel tighter and tighter in the chest, and feel as if the water around me is warming up, like it may burn me alive.

I shoot up out of bed, panicked and crying, my head touching the top of the capsule pod. How am I crying? I haven’t cried in almost 3 years. Is this even possible? And suddenly I remember why I’m crying. The water, Em, and whatever he kept on repeating. I look at my timer and see I’ve gotten 7 minutes left. Wait a minute, did I just, dream?