[m]thirteen

The ship was drifting. It had been orbiting the earth for about 30 minutes now. There was absolute silence.

Richard thought it was terrible.

He was completely alone with his thoughts. Every once in a while, one of the consoles emitted some strange garbled static sounds. He assumed the ship’s computer was checking local radio communication to make sure its path to the earth’s surface would be clear when it descended – whenever that was.

Richard laid his head back on the chair. His thoughts turned to Madeline. That’s worth going home for, he thought again. He began to think about his job, and all the people he knew there: Bob from accounting, John across the hall, and Isaac in the cubicle next to him. His boss Mike. The janitor, Chris. He knew most of the people on his floor – if not well, at least by name – and as he thought about them, he realized how much they cared about him.

And how much he cared about them.

He thought about his house – his home. He thought about his neighbor, Jack, and Jack’s little min-pin puppy. He thought about the little old lady, Mrs. Martin, who lived across the street and liked to collect frog memorabilia. And what about the elementary school down the road? A lot of times the kids would ride their bikes across the his yard on the way home from school. He never stopped them, even though it often damaged his lawn a bit.

He thought about his home some more. If he was correct about the length of time he had been gone, then his favorite TV show would be in the evening. There was a half-finished copy of “The Return of the King” on his coffee table, which he read every day after work. There was a second draft of a cost proposal open on his computer, which he was hoping to give to his supervisor within the next week.

As each of these things went through his mind, he kept coming back to this thought:

That’s why I’m going home.

Richard was already resolute about returning but now he was even more so. All doubts were gone from his mind. It would take something pretty severe to stop him now… like aliens. Real aliens, not dream/nightmare aliens.

Suddenly, out of the static from the consoles came a voice:

“Attention foreign vessel! This is the United States Air Force, contacting you from the Kennedy Space Station in Florida. Please identify yourself.”

Richard jumped to his feet and frantically looked for the source of the voice. It was coming from a small speaker in one wall. He tried to find a microphone, but he couldn’t find anything remotely resembling one, so he began talking directly into the speaker.

“Hello, yes, uh, my name is Richard Smith, I was on the moon, and then I found this, uh, rocket ship, and now I’m headed back to earth!”

He smacked his forehead. I sound like an idiot, he thought.

Over the intercom, he heard the sounds of confusion. Lots of people were talking at once, and he thought he heard someone say, “I told you, the systems are never wrong about these things!” Then the first voice come back on:

“Richard, there’s a bunch of us down here who wouldn’t believe it until we actually heard your voice. We’re not sure how this is all happening but* o*ur* s&y*#t(ms* s$m*()w &)$*!@^$%^$%#&(**************”

The voice was consumed by static. Richard started yelling into the speaker “I’m sorry, you’re breaking up” and other such things, desperate to not lose the anonymous voice from earth.

Over the static, Richard heard the main console emit a strange sound. Looking at it, he saw the words

“ORBIT DECAYING. DESCENDING TO SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

The voice from earth then began to return, saying

“*****(*(!*$)%&#om*uter* sh*ow tha*t your orbit is decaying. You need to correct and maintain your orbit until we can set up a landing zone for your ship.”

Richard stammered, “Well, uh… there’s really nothing I can do about that. You see, uh, the ship is locked into a splash-down location, and we have no power to change it… and I –”

The voice started saying something, but it was covered by static, which grew louder until the speaker shut itself off. Richard stared at it. At least he knew that somebody was aware of his situation – several somebodys, apparently.

He looked out the porthole and caught his breath. It was the earth! This whole time, the porthole was facing away, into space. But now… It was breathtaking. Richard saw the continents and oceans, and all their contours. He saw clouds everywhere, and mountains peeking through them, and greens and browns and blues of all different shades and hues. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He soon didn’t have a choice, as the picturesque planet grew closer, and the rocket began to shake. He looked around the interior of the ship and saw that the speedometer was maxing out, and the main screen read

“ENTERING ATMOSPHERE. PLEASE FASTEN SEAT BELT.”

It didn’t take Richard long to get into the chair, as the rocket jerked & flung him into it. He quickly located the seat belt and fastened it securely around his waist. He was glad he did, because he could see flames licking around the edges of the porthole as the ship began to plow through the earth’s atmosphere. Richard thought the ship was going to be torn apart, as the geeforces began to press him against his chair. He began to feel his nauseous, and his the edges of his vision faded. He closed his eyes and used what little focus he could muster to pray for his life.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped. Richard opened his eyes. The flames were gone, and although his vision was still blurry, he could see that the console screen read

“ENTRY COMPLETE. BRACE FOR CHUTE DEPLOYMENT.”

The rocket ship jerked abruptly, slamming Richard against his chair and stunning him. He stared at the instrument covered wall in front of him as he felt the ship flip itself over so that it was pointing towards the sky. He could see the ocean through the porthole, approaching at a swift pace. He couldn’t tell how long the ship floated downwards,
but it

seemed

like

hours

before he finally felt the shock the ship hitting the water and saw the ocean sweeping by the window. The waves began to move up and down against the window, and he saw the parachute collapse into the water.

Richard’s vision swam. Now that it was over, the stress of his entire adventure was taking its toll on him, and he could feel himself losing consciousness. Still in a sitting position, he was on his back, facing upwards. He thought he heard the distant sound of a helicopter, as if from a dream. He then heard something clanging on the outside of the ship. Completely unable to focus, he barely saw what looked like a Navy Seal prying open the door directly above his head. The Seal leaned over the doorway and asked, “Are you Richard Smith?”

As images of Madeline flitted across his mind, Richard could hardly keep his eyes open, but he managed to gasp,

“Yes… but… you can call me… Rick.”

Then, he blacked out, passing into blissful, silent rest.

[m]twelve

The rocket was shaking, but not as violently as Richard would have expected. It wasn’t really shaking at all – it was closer to vibrating. This was accompanied by a sound that Richard could only describe as a low roar, which was getting louder. Across the room from the main console, a digital meter was rising along with the volume of the roar. It was labeled with values from 0% to “100%,” with different colors for different parts of it – 0-70% was red, 70-85% was yellow, and 85-100% was green. As the vibration and volume increased, the level of this apparent power meter climbed rapidly. Immediately next to it was some sort of speedometer that looked very similar to the other meter. It had no unit of measurement, and it rested firmly at “0.”

The rocket lurched abruptly. Richard peered out the small porthole. The ship hadn’t left the ground – yet. He glanced over at the power meter. It was in the yellow, and moving quickly towards the green. The ship was actually shaking now, and the roar was deafening. Since he couldn’t see the outside of the ship, Richard couldn’t tell what was causing the roar. He figured it was some sort of fire used to propel the ship, like what you see coming out of the bottoms of US rockets, but he wasn’t entirely sure. This was probably some sort of alien craft, and it might use a propulsion technology he had never seen before. Heck (he barely even noticed his use of the word this time), it could even be powered by squirrels running on little wheels, for all he knew.

Suddenly, the rocket leaped into the air, knocking Richard to the ground. He tried to get back up again, but the geeforces held him down. The rocket must be taking off, he thought – the roar was deafening now, and all the shaking had stopped.

With great effort, he managed to pry himself off the floor. He could see the sky moving by outside – or rather, space, and all the stars that filled it. He looked over at the power meter again. It had moved into the green and was hovering close to 100%. He looked out the again. The rocket was slanting a little bit in its course from the moon – he couldn’t tell if that was supposed to happen or not – and it was in such a way that he could see the moon’s surface. Looking down, he could see his cabin. He had shut the front door when he left, but he forgot to put out the fireplace again – there was still a thin column of smoke rising from the chimney. He hoped that the fire wouldn’t cause any problems later, but he chuckled to himself at the thought of befuddled scientists using satellites or telescopes or whatever they used to look at the moon and wondering what the heck was causing the smoke.

He stopped. He was shocked – he had never found humor in the discomfort or confusion of others. Maybe he was being a bit harsh on himself – no one was actually getting hurt in his hypothetical scientist situation – but still… he had never felt that way before. He tried to make himself solemn, but no matter how hard he tried, Richard just couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

Looking out the porthole again, he saw that the moon was moving away now. He peered over the edge of the window, straining to get one last look at his cabin, but it was out of sight. He sighed, and climbed into the swiveling chair near the main console. It was strange – he had only been on the moon for two days, and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant experience, but he realized that he was going to miss it.

The rocket shuddered, and an alarm began to sound. The main screen was flashing “POWER LOW.” Richard whipped around to the power meter – it was in the red and dropping quickly. He frantically looked around at all of the screens and buttons, trying to find some way to stop the power loss. He turned back to the main screen. “How can we be out of power?!” he cried, panicking. The screen flickered. He stared at it, and it changed to an image of the earth with a ring around it, the rocket, and an arrow pointing from the rocket to the ring.

“Huh?” Richard said. The screen seemed to react to his question, and a messages appeared:

“WILL ENTER PLANETARY ORBIT. SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard was still confused. “That doesn’t solve our power problem!”

The console chirped, almost as if it was annoyed.

“POWER NOT NEEDED TO MAINTAIN ORBIT. SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Before Richard could respond, the roar suddenly stopped, and the alarm faded away. He looked at the power meter. It was at 0%. The speedometer, however, remained where it was – “225.” Since it wasn’t labeled was units of speed, he couldn’t tell if that was 225 miles per hour, 225 kilometers per hour, or 225 inches per hour; he couldn’t even tell if it was slow or fast. He assumed it was fast, since he could still feel the geeforces, although he was somewhat used to them.

The console chirped again. It still said “SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard looked at it. There was an image of the earth spinning, with sections of the oceans outlined – he figured the computer must have determined all of the safe locations to land or rather, splash. He thought about this. He had seen all the footage of US space shuttles falling into the ocean with parachutes trailing behind them, but there was still something that didn’t make sense. So far, the console had responded to his questions, so he decided to voice this concern as well. He cleared his throat.

The console chirped.

Looking at it sideways, Richard said,

“So, uh… if we’re out of power, how can I control where we land?”

He couldn’t figure out why he felt compelled to say “we.”

The console responded with

“SMALL AMOUNT OF POWER RESERVED FOR REACHING SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard cleared his throat again. The console chirped again.

“If we’re already out of power, then how would we ever reach someplace in another part of the galaxy? You gave me that option, but wouldn’t we run out of power before getting there?”

The console chirped several times, as if it took offense to all his doubting questions, before displaying

“POWER CONSUMPTION CALCULATED FOR FASTEST ROUTE TO CHOSEN DESTINATION.”

Richard thought about this. That would mean that if he had chosed to go to Mars, it would have taken proportionally longer because of more effective use of power. He sat back in the chair. He was satisfied.

The console, however, was not. It chirped again.

“SELECT SPLASHDOWN LOCATION.”

Richard sighed. Looking at the spinning globe, he touched a location in the Atlantic Ocean near the east coast of the US. A ring began to pulse around it, almost like a radar beacon, and the question appeared: “LOCATION CORRECT? Y/N.” He tapped the “Y” and the console chirped in acknowledgment: “LOCATION SET.”

“When will we splashdown?” Richard asked, but the console didn’t answer. He repeated the question and still received no response. Frustrated, he kicked the base of the machine.

It chirped and displayed:

“DO NOT DAMAGE EQUIPMENT.”

Richard sighed and sank into the chair.

[m]eleven

The rocket was rather small and looked like it only held one person. It looked like your typical cartoon rocket, like what a child would draw and a mother would stick on the fridge. It was white, tall, and skinny, and it was larger in the center, but it was very fluid and streamlined. There was a small porthole in the side, a long needle-like antenna on the top, and three thin, red feet that swept out from the sides into little points on the ground.

As close to the rocket as he dared, Richard looked it over. He couldn’t find any seams where parts were held together or where a door would be. If there was a door, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to open it. It hadn’t been here before. Was it safe? Was there something inside?

He could feel an argument coming on inside his head again, so he quickly stopped asking questions. This looked like his only ticket off the moon, so he began looking for a way to get inside.

He tentatively reached out and put his hand on the smooth, sleek surface. It wasn’t cold, like he expected. He put his other hand on, and began to move them across the surface, looking for some sort of opening device. One of his hands slid into a small depression, and he heard a hissing noise above him.

Stepping back, he saw two pieces of metal sliding back to reveal a narrow doorway, and a very complicated-looking ladder emerged from below it and began to unfold and descend towards him. It slowed as it reached the ground and touched down gently.

Richard was amazed, a feeling he was getting rather used to. He eyed the doorway warily, as if a strange, tentacled alien was going to waddle out at any moment. He shook his head to clear out the images of the nightmare he had the night before.

He took a deep breath. He resolutely put his hands on the rungs and placed a foot on the lowest rung. This is it, he thought. This is my only chance. I’ve got to do it, and do it right!

He pulled himself up and began climbing the ladder. Since it was a small rocket, it wasn’t very far up, but it seemed to him that it took forever to reach the top. When he got there, he hesitated before stepping inside, but quickly made himself duck through.

Once he was inside, the door sealed shut. He whipped around and put his hands on it as if he could force it open again. He couldn’t even find a crack where the two metal pieces met, so he turned back around and familiarized himself with the cockpit. It was small, but not cramped, and full of blinking meters, buttons, and levers. It wasn’t dark, although he couldn’t tell where the light was coming from. There was a single red light blinking slowly on what looked like the main console. Richard moved over to it and looked at it closely. It was next to an empty keyhole.

Richard took a breath and took out the key he had found in his cabin. It was about the right size, so he put it in the slot and turned it.

The rocket whirred to life. Lights turned on all over the cockpit, and the whole ship was humming.

Richard looked around in amazement. There were so many lights, controls, screens, indicators, that he simply didn’t know what to do. He focused his attention on the console where he found the keyhole. There was a large screen with the words “SET COURSE.” near the top and a picture of a galaxy. He wondered why the words were in English. Maybe they were actually in some alien language and there was some translation technology in place that enabled him to understand them. He shook his head. There were just too many mysteries here, and he couldn’t understand a single one of them.

He couldn’t find any buttons near the screen so he touched it, and a box flickered around the tail end of one of the arms of the galaxy. The screen zoomed in on the area and displayed several galaxies with labels pointing at each of them. There were so many that the words were really small in order to fit them all on the screen. Richard squinted his eyes to read them and found one that read “SOL.” He touched the system that it indicated and the screen zoomed in again, this time focusing on his chosen solar system. There were nine planets orbiting the sun, several of them with moons, and there was a small arrow pointing at one moon in particular, orbiting a small, blue-and-white planet.

That’s earth! Richard thought, and his heart leapt. He quickly touched the planet, and, refocusing again, the screen displayed a message that said: “PROCEED TO THIS DESTINATION? YES/NO.”

He caught his breath as he pressed “YES” and the rocket began to shake. Images of Madeline flitted across his thoughts. He took a breath.

“THAT’S why I need to go home,” he said aloud.