I’m running the duster along the edges of the floor in the corridor when I find it. It’s leaning against the inner edge of the doorframe of the gene bank, tucked neatly up by the wall. It’s so tiny that it isn’t a surprise I’ve missed it all these years.
It’s a shard from some kind of metallic container; a curved fragment of a larger cylinder, broken unevenly along a fracture line. I only notice it at all because the sharp edge catches the side of my thumb.
When my fingers touch the roughness of the engraving, I realize immediately what it must be. Slowly, I turn it over to see the letters:
vers, M.D.
Gasping, I drop it like I’ve been burnt.
Dr Silvers, M.D. It’s a fragment of the oxygen tank from my mother’s spacesuit.
I thought I’d found them all. I’d been so careful, all those years ago. I never wanted to see any reminder of my mother ever again. But apparently I missed this shard, lingering at the scene of the crime like evidence waiting to be found.
I can taste the sour tang of vomit in the back of my throat. I have to get rid of it. Now. Just knowing that it is on the ship, on my ship, makes me shudder.
I tuck it into my palm so I don’t have to look at it, feeling the metal leach the warmth from my skin, and walk as fast as I can to the airlock.
The seal hisses when I pull open the inner door of the pressurized airlock. I step into the chamber set into the hull of the spaceship. Through a porthole in the outer door, I can see straight out into space. If I opened that door now, I’d be dead in less than a minute as the vacuum pulled the air from my chest, taking my lungs along with it.
I don’t.
Instead I place the shard on the floor of the chamber, and return to the safety of my ship, closing the inner door. Looking through the window, the fragment seems harmless. It’s impossible to imagine the damage it caused.
I swallow, hard. I seal the airlock, and the system pumps to remove the air from the chamber.
In my mind, I watch the tank break, the way I have time and time again since it first happened.
I’d forgotten how cold it was against skin. I’d forgotten how shiny the steel looked when it was covered in blood.
The outer door of the airlock slides open in a silent, easy motion. The last remaining piece of my mother’s oxygen tank slips out into space. I catch a flash of light gleaming off its surface before it’s left behind in the wake of the ship.
Gone.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
314
From: The Eternity Sent: 30/11/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 17/04/2067
Attachment: L&N.zip [3 GB]
Good morning Romy,
I have some questions for you today, since I was so considerate as to answer yours. Even if yours were hypothetical and uninvited, it still counts. Promise.
Why do you like Loch & Ness so much? (I’ve attached the rest of the latest series, by the way. Enjoy!)
Even if the journey takes another nineteen years, would you turn the ship around and go back to Earth if you could?
I wonder a lot about what life is like for you, alone on your ship. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I’d like to hear about it.
J
From: The Infinity Sent: 17/04/2067
To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 10/07/2067
J,
Interesting questions.
I like Loch & Ness because it’s the complete opposite of my life. I’ve rewatched it so many times that the characters feel like real friends to me. Jayden is my favourite. He acts like he’s really cool and jokes around a lot, but actually he’s a total sweetheart. He’s hilarious too, and completely in love with Lyra, even though she doesn’t know that yet.
As to your second question, I actually did try to go back to Earth just after my parents died. I was all on my own, so I panicked and did what my eleven-year-old brain thought NASA would want me to do. I tried to turn the ship around.
You probably know that it’s not like turning a car around – it takes years and years to turn a spaceship around, obviously. You’ve had all the real astronaut training. Well, I didn’t have any of that. I thought it would be easy. I thought I’d be able to go back to Earth and let someone else take over the mission.
I’d also got really fixated on my dad’s dad, who was still alive at that point. All I could think about was going back to Earth and meeting my grandad for the first time. I thought he could adopt me. I knew that by the time I got back to Earth I’d be thirty, and wouldn’t need adopting, but I just ignored that. I was in denial.
Anyway, I marched up to the helm one day, hands on my hips, and ordered the computer to turn the ship around. It refused. I pressed a lot of buttons and did a lot of shouting, and it was still like, “No.”
Because I didn’t have the command codes, it wouldn’t give me access. It forced me to stay away from the controls until I’d calmed down – which took a good few months.
I think it was only when Molly started talking to me that I finally accepted I couldn’t go home. (Did you talk to Molly too, from NASA? Isn’t she just the best? I miss her more than anything else, now that the transmissions are down.)
In her first message, she promoted my authorization codes to make me the commander of The Infinity. I realized I could actually turn the ship around. So I tried again.
I got pretty far with it. I set up the instructions and coordinates and even ordered more fuel to be sent to the thrusters. But when I went to press the button, I just couldn’t do it.
I think it was because this person at NASA was giving me total control of a spaceship. Me, Romy Silvers. I was only fourteen, but I was really in charge. That made me realize how serious it was. They were all relying on me.
Our ships are about more than just us, aren’t they? Everyone on Earth is depending on us to get to Earth II. They’ve invested nearly half a century of money, time and research into getting us there. I couldn’t let them down just because I was scared.
I couldn’t change what had happened to my parents. I couldn’t change the fact that I was here, and that I was always going to be here, and my parents weren’t. So I just got on with it. This voyage was never meant to be easy. It was meant to be important.
Anyway, that’s enough of that, or it’ll spoil my appetite – and I’ve got tomato soup for dinner to look forward to! (That’s my favourite.)
That turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. Sorry if it got more emotional than you were expecting! There’s something about you that just makes me want to open up, I think.
R
PS Thank you so much for the rest of Loch & Ness. I know what my plans are for the rest of the day…!
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
293
I spend the morning making a model house out of dinner packets. I carefully cut little doors and windows out of the plastic, trying to remember what the flat-pack buildings in the stores look like so I can copy the design. I want to make houses similar to the ones J and I will be living in on Earth II. Then I’ll be able to picture what our lives will be like.