Fantastic Voyage - Part 1

During her training program, Rita had read various books about the history of space travel. She had marvelled at the things she learned. For example, Apollo 11 was powered by a computer with a miniscule processing power of 64 kilobytes. Her kitchen dustbin with the automatic lid used more than that. Another example: Laika 3, Russia’s historic space mission at the turn of the 22nd century, was the first manned mission to leave the solar system. None of the astronauts survived the return to Earth; their sanity was crushed by the isolation and existential turmoil that accompanied outer space’s opaque vacuum. The pilots, disregarding all of their training, could not bear another three years away from Earth, so they overrode the automatic flight controls and prematurely diverted the ship back towards Earth. Of course, no human can anticipate the random movements of asteroid clusters in outer space. Their ship was destroyed, but not before the crucial data was transferred back to mission control thanks to a computer that transmitted an incredible 7500 terabytes of data per second.

The Laika 3 tragedy led to innovations in space travel. By 2118, space agencies across the world had implemented Mandatory Automatic Control, or M.A.C., on all shuttles. Programmers would predetermine a course based on projections of asteroid trajectory, and every mission would rigidly follow the programmed schedules. The humans that accompanied the shuttles no longer had control of the ships under any circumstances. Their sole purpose was to make sure the ship stayed intact. Rita had just been accepted into the training program for the Canadian Space Agency when M.A.C. took effect. Throughout her two years of training, she had witnessed numerous successful missions because of this new system, so the fact that the agencies appeared to trust computers more than humans did not bother her too much.

Rita now stood in the common area outside of the dorms aboard shuttle CA-55. It had been ten years since her graduation from the training program at the Canadian Space Agency. Her jet-black hair, woven with tight curls, was now sparsely populated by wayward strands of gray. Her brown, tired eyes gleamed as she gazed outside of the large window that revealed the great beyond. In the distance, she could make out the cosmic mixture of asteroids, stars, nebulae, and planets that she knew as the Milky Way. It resembled a cup of tea with food coloring and glitter swirling around inside. The light that emanated from the distant stars and nebulae provided a thin layer of illumination against the outlines of everything inside the dark rooms of the shuttle. Rita was a member of the three-person crew that composed the soon-to-be legendary mission, Puck 3. It was the C.S.A.’s third collaboration with Roscosmos. The name “Puck” was an homage to the love for ice hockey shared by Canada and Russia. Cute. Rita cared little for hockey, but her reservations about the name of her mission were unimportant. She was on the first manned reconnaissance voyage outside of the Milky Way. It had taken the shuttle four years to leave the galaxy, and it had taken one more year to approach the vicinity of the planet that Rita’s team was sent to investigate. Control had named the planet ‘X-Terra’. The atmospheric readings were identical to those of Earth, and the imaging provided through drones and satellites showed a remarkable resemblance between the structure of Earth’s continents and those on this new planet. Rita had been containing her excitement for the past few weeks, but with only one day left until the final approach, keeping her composure had become quite a struggle.

The door to one of the rooms hissed, and when a weary groan slipped through the opening behind the door, Rita knew who was about to appear behind her.

“Can’t sleep, Alexei?” Rita asked without breaking her gaze from the window.

“Eh, the ship tells us it’s midnight, but back in Omsk it’s ten in the morning. I woke up to tell my girlfriend good morning, but I couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards.” Alexei’s gruff croak turned into his regular eloquent diction by the end of the sentence. Alexei spoke perfect English with the slightest hint of a Russian accent. His hand passed through his buzz-cut hairdo before he stretched out his short frame and turned to Rita.

“I’m glad it’s you out here and not Barbara. She would try to get me into her ‘deep’ conversations. I can’t stand those.”

“She’s been struggling, Alexei. Not all of us can handle the strain that these kinds of missions put on the mind. She’s trying to get through it.”

“Yeah, of course. She deals with it by talking our ears off. She deals with it by crying and sniffing all night. She deals with it by over-compensating with extremely joyous and energetic morning logs. After five years, it takes a toll on me, Rita. Anyway, is there any chocolate cake left?” After airing his grievances, Alexei puttered towards the food storage roomThe slap of his bare feet on the cool metal floor complemented the shuttle’s gentle hum. Rita let out a resigned sigh.

***

CA-55 was a marvel of astronautic technology. Gone were the days of clunky designs with cramped interiors, disorganized clumps of wiring, and noisy machinery. The C.S.A. paired up with Apple’s designers to create this ship. Its sleek white exterior with rounded edges and large windows encapsulated a spacious interior that looked more like a luxury new-age penthouse than a shuttle. The machinery was all hidden away under the suave bumps and curves that coated the silver interior. Thanks to M.A.C., it was not necessary to make the controls accessible to the crew. The only evidence of the crew’s importance was a control panel on the bridge, where the astronauts would program repair orders and other tasks as the mission progressed. Each crew member was graced with a large dormitory, a single bed, and sufficient storage space. No need to suffer over deliberations regarding which unique personal item to bring on your mission anymore. Bring as many as you want!

Despite the increasing luxuries over the years, psychological hardship still pervaded crew members. Luxuries were no match for the distance from home and the existential battering that the void dealt. A prime example of an existential beatdown victim was Barbara. This was her final mission. Her nest of gray hair sat atop a petite frame that was marked with wrinkles of late middle age. She was a brilliant astronaut, but her veteran status meant that the numerous missions she participated in whittled her mental strength down until it was a twig that threatened to snap at any moment. It was a wonder that she even passed screening for this mission.

Shortly after CA-55 replicated a sunrise, with orange lights cascading into the rooms before transforming into a brighter white radiance, the crew gathered around the control panel on the bridge. Barbara tapped an area of the screen, causing a small green light to blink intermittently in the corner. She leaned forward so that her thin lips were close to the built-in microphone.

“Gooooood morning! It’s Barb here, with the log for April 3rd, 2130. It’s a beautiful Thursday morning here on CA-55.” Barbara’s musical voice seemed to traverse every possible octave. Alexei rolled his eyes and glared at Rita, who shrugged him off. She knew he was right about her overt positivity being a defense mechanism. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? Barb was definitely faking it.

“We’ve approached the vicinity of X-Terra. I’m so excited! After this log, we’re gonna put on our gear and prepare for CA-55’s landing protocol. Other than that, we’re all doing well, aren’t we, guys? It’s the same-old-same-old around here, Rita’s quiet as a mouse and Alexei’s music taste is intolerable!” Barbara craned her neck and ogled at Alexei and Rita before mustering up a resoundingly pathetic wink to accompany her wild smirk. She was greeted with blank stares from her audience. Tough crowd.

“End of log. See you tomorrow morning!” Barbara tapped the record function to on the screen to end the log before letting out a happy sigh. The blinking green light held and intensified before shutting off, signifying the end of the recording.

“It’ll be so nice to walk on a place that looks like Earth after five years stuck on this ship! It’s such a shame that we only get to explore for a couple of hours before we have to return to the shuttle,” Barbara said.

“Yeah, but if it’s really that much like Earth, it should kill some of our homesickness,” Rita responded while donning her spacesuit. The rest of the preparations for landing took place in silence. When the crew strapped themselves into their seats, CA-55 began the landing protocol.