Tomorrow

The lull of airtight pockets rattled their teeth against the backdrop of endless space. The cabin was dim, illuminated by hundreds of button lights that hummed little melodies. Jaysan's eyes were closed as he rested in his pilots chair. His helmet was strapped tight to his suit, creaking as the ship made micro-adjustments to its course.

The pilot to his right adjusted her suit, still keeping her eyes closed. She tossed and turned as her eyes rolled behind the lids. Jaysan woke to the subtle sound as the light of a distant star brushed past his cheek, over his head.

"Tara," he said, bringing his seat out of the rest position. "Wake up, Tara."

Tara woke searching all around her as if she was taking in her surroundings for the first time. She locked onto Jaysan and her body relaxed as she eased her seat upright as well. Controls that were locked onto a moving dashboard slotted tightly in front of both pilots, purring awake and powering up.

"How long was I out?" asked Tara.

"As long as I was," admitted Jaysan. "Bad dream?"

"I don't know," she sulked. "Never can remember them."

A large swirling expanse loomed into the viewpoint of the ship's cockpit. The planet was enormous and getting larger. The ship rattled as turbulence strained it's hull. Jaysan eased his hands onto the controls looking out the window with his mouth opened agape.

"Look at that," he gasped. "Can you imagine what those first settlers must have thought?" "I don't think I want to know what they thought," shook Tara.

"What?" squeaked Jaysan. "You have to be joking. To be the first to build something on this?" "A lot of those settlers didn't have a choice, Jaysan," hissed Tara.

Jaysan's attention was back onto their destination, aloof of the pouty expression staining Tara's face. A small point just above the planet's south pole became larger as they approached. The ship rotated slowly, aligning itself so that the poles became reversed and they were riding a horizon. Visible floating structures bloomed into focus like buds of a flower expanding open.

"Begin docking sequence," sounded Tara.

Jaysan nodded, flicking a couple of switches on his control dash. A holo-screen popped up that checked 'docking sequence initiated' with a fuzzy decimal that blinked.

The ship rolled again and turned to its side, though Jaysan and Tara stayed unaltered from their initial positions. The screen on Tara's dash counted silently from three to one. A low thud echoed through their ship when the counter reached zero and an automatic pressure hissed out at their landing.

Jaysan eased out of his seat as the dash slid back into itself, allowing him room to stand. Tara's console did the same and the two pilots walked down the ship's hull. Hues of light splayed into a rectangular shape creating a path down a darkened hallway.

Entry lights flicked on, struggling to keep aglow.

They walked slowly, Tara taking lead. A strong beam of light switched on from her chest, lighting the darkness the damaged hull could not. A lockway at the end of the docking hall rested ajar, lazily hanging from it's duty.

"Thank stars we don't have to rely on those anymore," sighed Jaysan.

"Pointless observations later," snarked Tara. She eased the lockway open with her hands, forcing a small remote to respond to her presence. Entry sensors turned to face the lockway, sizzling a bunch of lights into existence which could barely hold their charge. A low whine echoed in the station and a small, pulsing beep followed the silence. Suits floated around them in the half darkness, some with faces long extinct and rotten. Jaysan walked ahead pushing the suits out of his way.

'Control Bridge' was listed above the corridor he chose. Tara watched as his suit's light powered on and faded away. She gave a nod and noticed a suit drifting closer to her. Her hand extended, instinctively, which stopped it and a small, black book drifted out from it's hand.

Tara caught it, turning it over and examining the fine leather casing of it. She opened the book sending bits of paper floating which were marked with numbers and strange, old faces. Some were whole while others were shredded into decayed bits.

She looked back to the pages that lay open noticing a message imprinted onto the pages:

To my son,

I know not if this will make it to you before you arrive. If it does, that would be all for the better. If not, know that I would've been so proud to see you come aboard the station I helped build. I've enclosed $20,000 to help settle you into your new home. It's not much these days, but it should set you up for the time being. I don't want to see my son starving for food or a good room.

Sadly, they're moving us onwards tomorrow, so I won't be able to say hello to you. Work here on Jupiter is done and I still have $2,000 over my head. The tickets weren't cheap, but the hard day's will be worth it knowing I'll be able to see you soon. I love you and may you find me.

Your father,

James