To The Moon and Back, Chapter 1

For as long as I can remember, my home has been the stars. Years growing up within the metal tub that we all have learned to call home. Dad says earth was beautiful in its day, and that I was lucky to be born there. Though I think he forgets that I don’t have a single memory of it. He loves to talk about how the trees would sway in the wind, whatever that means.

I do admire his stories and wish I had been born earlier to experience it all with him, he makes it sound like this magical place. Like as if I was as close to heaven as one could get. I never cared much for the planet though, later learning in class that smog and pollution had finally caught up with its time. Depressing if you ask me. Of all the things we as humans could have fixed, we never thought to address climate change? We made it a political issue, which, in hindsight, sounds very human of us. Good job world, now we have no climate at all!

“Come on Max! We are going to be late to board!” Dad said, his hand firm against the side of the door frame, eyes peering into mine, most likely wondering what I was still doing. I offered a smile before pushing away from my desk, closing the picture book I got last year for my birthday. I feel spoiled when I say those words. It's like a one and a million chance someone has enough points to buy a book of all things. I’m exaggerating of course, but for me and my dad, it's always been a struggle to have enough points to even support us on food. Regardless of all our struggles, he still manages to get me at least one present a year, and for that, I am lucky.

Dad says that the reason we explore and go out as much as we do, is so we can find a place just like Earth. I hope we do. There are millions of us floating around in subpods, most of us not lucky enough, or in other words, rich enough to be in the higherpods. Higherpods hold lots of people, I’ve heard that they hold up to 50,000, while us common folk only have 5,000 at most. My subpod only holds 2,000, and even now it's hard to live.

The funny thing about the higherpods is there are only 5, and to be honest I’m not sure how many subpods there are. The higherpods control the subpods, keeping us in order, I’m sure that’s why we are chosen to do their dirty work of finding a replica of Earth.

“We are almost never late”, I retort. “Almost, you said almost.” He replied back, a smile wide on his lips, his hands meeting my shoulders to usher me along and out of the room. Though I speak a lot of hot garbage about exploration, I cherish moments like these. These little adventures I get to go on. Ever since I turned 15, I was allowed to go scavenging with his group, and I’ll admit, it's all but boring most of the time, but there is nothing like finally being free from our floating tin can. The sights, the feel, even the bits of freedom matter to me.

“Hold the door please!!” He yells as we rush with our thousand pound bag thumping up and down on our backs. “Sorry Cap’n, ya snooze ya lose”, Mary yells back, hand slowly moving to hit the close door button. She was always the dramatic type, putting on a show, her hand inching slower and slower to the button. I was certain we weren’t going to make it before James' hand slipped through the tiny remaining crack, and the door squeaked as it opened back up. “Thanks, James”, Dad said through deep breaths as he and I both made a stop and entered the compact elevator. Squished up to one another, I could hear the faint laugh of Mary. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” He said, light heartedly to her as she shoved his shoulder in retaliation, everyone bumping back and forth as a result. “Just keepin' ya on your toes sir”, she beamed.

With a thump and loud screech of the elevator’s gears, the rickety mechanism hauled to a stop. My eyes drifted up to the floor number, we were two floors up from the launching pods, odd. Well, it was odd until, old miss.. whatever her name was, pushed her way past the hoard of giants towards the door. She was a sweet old lady, but I swear she's like 4 '11. “Have a good day miss”, I smiled, her name so far from my head it wasn’t even funny. As the doors close, I feel the eyes of Mary on me. “Miss?” She cracks a smile. “That’s Mrs. Jenkins you numb nuts.” She laughs loud, so loud my ears boom. “How am I supposed to remember everyone’s name,” I whine as if I haven't lived on this very space unit my entire life.

Rolling her eyes she let it go. I looked back to see James' expression hadn’t changed, he was a hard one to please anyways. So big and scary but I am almost positive there is a nice guy on the inside. I felt the familiar big hand ruffle my hair. My eyes darted up to see my dad and his calloused fingers whipping back and forth. I stood there quietly as he ruffled and messed with my hair. The more seconds that passed the more aggressive he got with it, exciting a chuckle out of me. He didn’t stop until the doors to the elevator opened, and by the end, my hair was all in a tuffled, knotted mess.

I hate confined places, call it whatever you will, but they freak me out. Elevators have never been a problem for me, but staying in a tightly packed one really starts to mess with my head. A ding hits my ears, the red fluorescent light grabbing at my eyes and I’m already amped up for action. I’m the first out the doors, walking the long hall of pods that house exploration units. Each unit gets their own pod and own number.

I’m not sure how many units there exactly are for each subpod, but I think they vary on the people per pod. Regardless, my subpod holds 7 different exploration ships. We get lucky number launching room 4, but our assigned number is 4589. The tacky tiled floor meets the beginning of the launch room. I dig in my bag for the laminated card that only a select few have before pressing it to the sensor, granting our access inside my second home.

I spring inside, placing my bag down on the metal desk to my left, scattering the tools that sat on it. My hand ran through my hair a couple of times, combing down whatever flyaways were left. Mary and James followed close behind, James picking up my bag from the desk and gently placing it on the floor, fixing all the tools that had been pushed aside. It's hard to explain the excitement I get when entering the launch rooms. The smell, the flooring, and how the pod looks all tidy and ready for launch.

The walls were covered head to toe in a metal foam, actively soundproofing the area, and keeping all vibrations and winds from messing with other levels. The ground is a neat gray flooring, heat resistant material built in to protect from take off and landings. The sweet old smell of rubber and a musk I can never quite put my finger on. I glide across the room to grab my gear out from the lockers. My suit standing stiff on its hanger, my untainted glass vials all in rows of 5, the way my belt pouch hangs.

I feel the kick start of anticipation coursing through me while my suit's silky texture runs across my fingers, the inside a stark contrast to the rough outer texture. Taking it off the hanger, I unzip and unlatch its patches, swiftly stepping into it. Just like always, it snugs up to my body, sealing away any outside air that dare try and get in.

A few minutes later Mark and Charlotte came into the room, the familiar latch click making my head turn. The group was complete and we were ready to roll. Since I was 17, I stood as the youngest of the group, meaning I was constantly under watch. Technically I was only supposed to be in a program, learning all the things I know now. Such as what to look for, how to collect samples, how to be safe, and so on.

My dad stands at the oldest at 45. Mary swooping in next at 37, James and Mark are around the same age since they are brothers, two years apart I believe with James being the older of the pair at 29 and Mark at 27. Then there is Charlotte who is 21, the closest to me in friendship and in age. I’d like to think we are just one big extended family, but James might think otherwise.
Despite his standoffish demeanor, I think he cares. Maybe.

There are perks to being the youngest though, I get to experience a lot in such a small amount of time, I get the lighter end of jobs, and observe a lot. I see everything, it lets me get a good read on people. I’ve been with this rowdy group since I was 15, and two years of watching the same people usually gives you a decent idea about how they act and what makes them tick.

Heavy steps rushed and walked past me, all flooding the pod, snapping me out of whatever wandering thoughts I had in my head, prompting me to join them. Usually, people my age have to wait until we are around 19 or 20 to be assigned to an exploration unit, and that's if you are top of your class and have been enrolled since an early age, but since my dad was the captain of the team, he could make things work.

The white panel opened up nice and slow, giving me the anxious swell in my chest as I waited. One by one we all filed in, James handed me my pack, my arm immediately falling to the floor under its weight. I could have sworn I saw a small smile creep onto his normally stoic face. Charlotte came up from behind, touching the small of my back. “Want me to carry that?” She asked, slowly moving around me until she was directly in front. “No, no, I got it”, I replied with a smile. “You sure? You can barely hold it.” When she offered her hand, I didn’t object. I placed the heavy pack in her hand and she took its weight like a champ.

Mark was busy loading the compartment next to the both of us, the storage just right of the entrance. I always wondered why it was designed that way. My dad says that just in case of emergencies, it's placed at the front for easy access. Mark stood on a little pop out ladder, shoving things into the storage compartments, so Charlotte handed him my bag. “Holy shit Char- what the fuck did you put in this bag?” She laughed a bit, watching him struggle. “Do I need to help you put things away as well?” In response, he just scoffed, telling her off. Very manly of him, I thought, eyes flickering between the two.

They always had some underlying chemistry I could never put my finger on. I thought it was sweet. Charlotte was sort of the opposite of Mark. She was soft spoken and kind while he was snarky and loud. But I think that’s what makes them click so well. Char and I have had conversations about it, and the more she denies it, the more certain I am that she feels the same way about him. I see the way he looks at her and vice versa.

Letting them bicker, I walked past the row of seats to either side of me that holds us all when it’s time to take off. I followed the row of seats down to the cockpit where my dad sat. He was in the very front, the interior a little tighter, but secure. He and Mary would often operate out of here. With her being a co-pilot and all, it made long trips easier since they could take shifts or manage the air pressure and look over other aspects.

“Hey, dad,” I spoke, making him do a double take. “Yea?” He responded, his attention split. I could tell he was trying to give me his attention but was occupied. “Where are we headed today?” Looking back down at the controls, he tests the usual buttons, hands fiddling with the mechanisms. “Umm..” I wait for an answer as he keeps working. I rock back on my heels, my hands meeting behind my back. With nothing better to do, I stared down at what he was doing, my question still registering in his mind.

“Gliese 667Cc.” My eyebrows raised, what the fuck was a glee 66 or whatever it was called. “Glee- C.. what?” My expression turned puzzled as he looked at me with an amused smile. “Gliese 667Cc, it's a planet thought to have life like Earth. That's why we are headed there today.” I stared blankly at him for a second, my hands moving in front of me, a smile curving at the edge of my lips.

Like Earth? “Does that mean it will have those pretty blue skies like in the pictures?” I beamed, lightly touching his shoulder. “If we are on schedule, then maybe, yes.” I gasped. “On schedule! Right!” I rushed off to get my stuff in order. From the way dad always explained Earth, I was so excited to finally see it for myself. Sure pictures are one thing, but the real scenery? God, I could only imagine.

There was always something so fascinating about spending every waking second searching for a copy of Earth. Through my dad and textbooks, I’ve always been tuned into the beauty of nature. There is a magic to learning about photosynthesis, or how certain proteins can make fungi glow. There is a lot to be learned, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to learn it.

Within ten minutes, everything was in order. I drifted to my normal seat, strapping in, the large black belts starting at my shoulders and cascading down to my hips. Mary sat beside me this time rather than up with my father, which is odd, even for her. I shot her a glance, but she just smiled and didn’t say a word. Though me and Mary weren’t the closest, keeping me on my toes was her way of showing she cared. It was like teasing was her love language.

If there was anyone who acted the most like a child, it was Mary. She loved jokes, pranks, and was a lot like a “cool” aunt. I’d like to think she is the comic relief of our group. Though Mary and I don’t have a lot in common, it's nice that she tries to be interested in what I like, even if it's for an ulterior motive.

James and Charlotte sat across from me while Mark was on the far end of our row. He is a funky guy, always insists on sitting there. I think it's because he is always on packing and unpacking duty and it gives him faster access. He turns it into a little game, always trying to beat his last score. But I don’t think he will ever beat his 1:03 record, even if we did have fewer things that day, he fights to the death it was his mad “skills”.

The familiar rattle of the engine firing up gives me goosebumps. Within seconds, I heard the creak of the outer launch door, its weight giving a heavy heave before squeaking itself to a stop. Adrenaline pumps in my veins, the ship itself rattling as we make slow movements out into the exposed darkness. Finally, I feel the pressure on my body, the shaking becoming more violent.

The sharp noise that rings in my ears for about two to three minutes makes my heart race, it slowly dying down the farther and faster out we go. The trip was long as expected, and we had to stay in our seats majority of the time. It was maybe 2 or 3 hours since we had launched but as soon as I started nodding off, we landed. It’s weird how the rock of the ship pushes me to sleep, as though it's hypnotizing. No sooner than we had landed was I out of my seat and bouncing around. Like any other day, I gathered things we would need for the outside journey. Clipping my belt bag to my hip, messing with how it sat. I counted how many vials I had and did all the safety checks necessary on my suit.

I jump at the sound of Mark yelling, him fisting the air. “1:02 baby!” He bellowed triumphantly. Off to the side I watched as James rolled his eyes and Charlotte laughed. Everyone spent a couple minutes making sure their suits and equipment were safe and secured, checking where usual leakage could happen. Basic protocol.

Placed neatly in the right corner of the door, Mark had laid out all the bags. Grabbing my bag, I hoisted on my pack with the help of James grabbing the top of it to transfer some of its weight. He then took his own pack, swinging it to his feet before handing out the leftover bags that yearned for their owners. Once everyone was set and I was given the ok, I walked over and pressed the ship's door.

It would have been cool if our door lowered like a drawbridge in some of those space-age comics my dad collected. Slow, but the next panel shows it wide open, all the characters striking power poses, lots of fog, and intergalactic guns in hand, but no. The metal clanked opening like a pair of creaky sliding glass doors. As the door opened, it sure took its time, it was unnecessarily slow, like.. Really slow. Guess that was the only thing true about the comics, now all we needed was the fog to nip at our ankles and then mysteriously disappear in the next scene.

As its last inches cracked open, the loud metal stairs crunched in the petals underneath, and the door banged against the outer aluminum layer on the ship, we were finally able to see where we landed. I’ll admit, I had taken several sneak peeks through the window, but nothing could have prepared me for my next few steps down the grated metal stairs.

Granted the pretty flowers below were burnt to a crisp and ruined upon landing, but the field we resided in was gorgeous. Once again I lead the group by being the first to step out, overcome with things I had never seen before, the warm rush of colors filling my eyes and soul. How beautifully the colors contrasted and meshed with one another. And straight above us was the watercolor sky, hues of blue and purple, perfectly in sync with the clouds that flooded the atmosphere.

A few steps out and I felt like the luckiest person alive. My eyes took me around faster than my brain could comprehend. The deep green grass with the purple flowers, long and wide trees covered in a variety of colored moss, the mushrooms that sprouted up alongside the tree’s roots, the dark and light colors or Roy-g-biv. There was so much color just in this area it put shame to the rainbow. I wanted to taste the air, feel the breeze on my skin, but I knew better than to be fooled by beauty.

I looked back at my dad who mirrored my expression, his smile wider than I had ever seen it. Making a pivot, I walked back over to my dad just as he waved the others over. I stopped short of his side, still in bewilderment at the painted sight before me. “Today, we make history. This place.. This could be it.” My dad boomed, his arms flying in the air as he spoke. That Hollywood smile plastered to his face.

“I need my groups of twos, samples are a must.” I watched as everyone eyed each other, mentally planning who would be with who. “Today we focus on pebbles, dirt, roots, and water. As you all know, the air-ometer hasn’t been working for some time, but I finally heard back from the big five, and it will be in next week.” He sighed contently, his hands placed on his hips. “Max is going to be my buddy today, so James, Mary, you two are together by default.” They both nodded, shifting their gear around, making arrangements for who holds what. “Mark, you are with Charlotte, and remember, if you find yourself alone, come back to the ship immediately, is that understood?” With a group of nods and smiles, his smile falters into one of a more serious undertone.

“See what I’m holding?” He asks while holding up one of the 6 radio-communicators. Each of us has one in case of emergencies or things go south. We radio in so others can help, and it would be full proof if the budget for exploration wasn’t so low. Often if not most, they don’t work, which kinda ruins the whole “here for emergencies” aspect.

“You know what to do when one or both of you are injured right?” Like an ocean wave, they all nod. Pointing to Mark, he asks, “So what do we do?” “We tend to the person first, then call for help,” Mark replies, prompting my dad to swing his hand, pointing to the left. “Exactly, and if it isn’t an immediate emergency, what do we do James?” He gives a glance making James look around awkwardly. “Uh.. just care for the person?” “And?” He questioned, waving his hands impatiently. “Anddd..” James trailed on but stopped when Dad huffed. “And make sure your surroundings are safe,” Dad stated, eyeing James for not knowing the answer.

He claps his hands twice and smiles. “Alright, get out there and get me some samples!!” And with that, we parted ways, all headed in different directions. This is the start of something great, I can feel it. This is vital, if we could make this work, and determine if the water and soil are safe, we could build life. We may have to take several more trips out to confirm things like air, but it will be worth it. This is a new beginning, a fresh start, and we were going to be the ones to make it happen. Create the life I never had and the life my dad once had.