by Lauren James
The simulation is easy. Apparently it gets harder and harder, but I haven’t put in enough hours to get to the advanced levels yet, when the flight simulator will expand into a planetary exploration system.
I’m happy to stick with this, for now. I really don’t want to learn all the extra things I should be worrying about just yet – like growing crops in uncultured soil, or building houses or raising farm animals. The thought of landing is more than enough.
Plus, the flying simulation really is fun.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
355
Today I decide I need to do something other than staring at my empty inbox in my pyjamas, hair and stomach in knots. Molly always tells me that keeping busy is the best way to stop worrying. Instead, for the last few days I’ve been sitting around grinding my teeth in blind despair.
I need to push away some of my negative thoughts and just get on with my life.
I think I’m going to make jam.
First, I need to pick some strawberries from the sun room, which is part of the science labs. I don’t really go in the labs much, unless the computer forces me to do some kind of check. But the sun room is my favourite exception.
It’s not really a sun room – that’s just what Dad used to call it, because when I was little I got confused about how photosynthesis and UV radiation worked, and why plants could grow in space.
It’s actually just a lot of plants in a nutrient solution, sitting under an array of lights. The plants are an ongoing source of seeds to add to the seed bank, ready to grow in the newly created soil of Earth II.
Gardening is also officially endorsed by NASA as being good for astronauts’ mental health – which I can confirm. Plants are easy and uncomplicated in a soothing, reassuring way. They just want light and air, and the containers do a lot of the work adjusting the water and nutrient and aeration levels. I get to enjoy the benefits without the pressure of something else relying on me for survival. The fresh produce is also a bonus.
I pick every ripe strawberry I can find, peeling apart frilly-edged leaves to find the juiciest ones hidden underneath the vines, and pinching away dead leaves to make sure all the plants have enough room to grow. My fingers are stained pink by the time I’m done.
I have to resist the urge to eat them all there and then. Instead I eat handfuls of sugar snap peas and radishes and runner beans. The tomatoes are almost turning red, so it shouldn’t be long before I can make fresh tomato soup.
I think I’ll change the light cycle of some containers from summer to autumn. I can harvest the broccoli. Maybe the Brussels sprouts. I’m trying to grow some bonsai trees, so they’ll shed their leaves in the autumn cycle. I’ve always wanted to see crispy red leaves fall to the ground and try crunching them under my shoes.
Neither of my parents were really interested in gardening, so I took responsibility for the sun room as soon as I was old enough to understand how not to drown the plants. I loved the strange, waxy texture of the leaves, and how plants could be so fragile and strong all at once. It’s difficult to imagine the precious organisms spreading across an entire planet without anyone to take care of them. Somehow they survive on mountains and in deserts and underwater without any defences.
I take my harvest back to the kitchen and microwave the strawberries until they’re soft and hot, then pour in a whole bag of sugar. I can only find a dessert spoon to stir the mixture with, so I have to keep dropping it when my fingers get too close to the jam and start to burn. The smell of the molten fruit gives me hiccups.
I microwave the mixture again, bending over to look through the window at the rolling red liquid. My mouth starts watering, just imagining the taste. I try to ignore the hiccups, which won’t go away.
It’s only when the jam is ready that I realize I don’t have any jars. I pour the hot liquid into my mugs, lining them up on the worktop, and cut circles out of old food cartons to press down into the surface of each. I’ll probably eat it pretty quickly, anyway. I can drink from a bowl until then.
I lie upside down on the sofa and gulp down water, pinching my nose, but the hiccups persevere.
Unable to resist, I eat four spoonfuls of jam straight from the mug. It’s so hot that I scald my tongue, in a way that means I won’t be able to taste anything for days. It gets rid of the hiccups, though.
And finally, finally, I feel a little better. I can do this. I can survive alone until Molly finds a way to speak to me again. I believe in her. It won’t be long. She won’t give up until she’s fought everyone who tries to stand between us. She’s going to come back to me.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
354
When I check my inbox for messages, it’s still empty.
Determined to ignore it, I force myself to do some studying. When Dad was alive, we used to spend hours training while he taught me everything that an astronaut could possibly need to know. I was getting quite good, for an eleven year old.
Back then it didn’t matter that I didn’t know everything, because if there had been an emergency, Dad would have dealt with it. If it was a good day, my mother might have helped too.
Now that it really does matter, I find it harder to focus. I pull up some astrophysics problems and read the first question.
A twin leaves Earth on a spaceship of mass 3 x 10² kg, which is travelling at a speed that an Earth-based observer measures to be +0.600c. After the spaceship has been travelling for 8 light years, the second twin departs Earth in a faster spaceship travelling at a speed of +0.750c, as measured by an Earth-based observer.
According to the theory of special relativity, what is the difference between their ages when they arrive at a planet 27 light years away from Earth?
Immediately I know what I’m supposed to do. I can barely write fast enough to keep up with my brain, scribbling down time dilation equations and drawing diagrams of the forces, masses and accelerations involved.
I get swept up in the joy of stretching myself, of being able to feel just how clever my brain can be sometimes. When I look at a problem and immediately know what to do, it feels like I’m flying. Sometimes I have dreams about doing maths, just because that feeling is so wonderful.
But then, as always, I start criticizing myself. A voice in my head tells me that I don’t know what I’m doing, that nothing I’ve written is right. I start panicking that really I’m not clever at all. I know, deep down, that if there was ever an actual emergency where I needed to use this stuff, my mind would go blank. I wouldn’t be able to do it. My brain would jam, clogged up with that imaginary pressure and fear.
It’s been like this ever since Dad died. I just … stopped studying. I couldn’t – and wouldn’t – learn this stuff without him. When NASA found out, Molly was put on my case to restart my training.
It’s amazing how quickly the advanced astrophysics dropped out of my mind. I’m learning things now that I used to know – things that Dad made sound so easy to eleven-year-old Romy. But now, I’m always finding fault with myself. I usually just look up the answer at the end of the textbook. It’s frustrating.
I’m erasing my failed calculations when a notification in the corner of the screen catches my eye. My heart skips a beat. A message is coming in.
I open the program for the detector, unable to resist watching the data packet arrive at the transponder. I need to know. Is it from The Eternity or Earth? Please, please, please let it be Earth. Let it be Molly.
The message trickles in, fragments at a time.
From: NASA Earth Sent: 02/07/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 08/03/2067
TRANS [Message incomplete]
I jiggle my knee, wishing I could hurry it up.
TRANSMISSIONS [Message incomplete]
I should go and do something while I wait, instead of sitting here watching it, but the scared feeling won’t go away. Something important is happening, and I can’t make myself look away from the screen.
TRANSMISS
IONS POSTPONED. WA [Message incomplete]
Transmissions postponed? Again?
R ON EARTH. [Message incomplete]
War on Earth. There’s a war happening on Earth? I wait for more, but that’s it. That’s the whole message.
From: NASA Earth Sent: 02/07/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 08/03/2067
TRANSMISSIONS POSTPONED. WAR ON EARTH.
MOLLY
How could a war stop her from communicating with me? I wrap my arms around my chest, gnawing at a sore spot on the inside of my cheek where I’ve torn the skin from chewing at it. It would heal up if I left it alone, but I know I won’t. I’ll prod and rub at it until it’s sore and inflamed.
Molly said that international disputes meant that NASA weren’t allowed to use the DSN antennas to communicate with me. If a full-scale war has broken out, it must be stopping NASA from accessing the antennas at all.
I’m itching for more information, desperate to know just what is happening on Earth. What kind of war is it? Will there be actual fighting, or is this just a political stalemate?
I sit at the helm for hours, staring at the detector and hoping to see even a single letter more. But there’s nothing. War has started on Earth, and I’ve been cut off.
What do I do next?
I fetch my teddy from my bunk and snuggle my face into his fur, breathing in his familiar scent. My mother made him for me out of an old pillowcase before I was born, to keep her hands busy while Dad was working.
My conception was a surprise (or as Dad used to say, a “happy accident”). NASA hadn’t planned for any children to be born until the ship arrived at Earth II, so there was twenty years’ worth of food piled on top of the childcare supplies in the stores.
To make sure that I had a cot to sleep in and nappies to wear, Dad had to sift through the endless towers of supplies in the ship’s centre. Apparently, my mother kept trying to help. He had to make her stop, in case she hurt herself. Instead, while Dad excavated the depths of the stores, she spent hours sewing me a teddy bear. The fur’s starting to unravel now, but I still love it.
However much I hate to think about her, I can’t bear to give up my teddy. He’s a reminder of the happier times during my childhood. So I keep him, despite everything.
I’m still staring into space when another message arrives, this time from The Eternity. For the transmissions to arrive so close together, Commander Shoreditch must have written it as soon as he read the message from Earth. Despite my worrying, I note how nice it is of him to think of me like that.
From: The Eternity Sent: 30/07/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 08/03/2067
Commander Silvers,
I just heard the news from NASA. I’m not going to lie, I’m more than a little worried. Before I left Earth there were a number of ongoing political tensions, and I knew war was a possibility, but somehow I still never expected it – or thought that it might affect my mission.
I can’t really process what’s happening. It’s like the world has become a completely different place already, only a month after I left.
I hope you’re OK, Commander Silvers. This is a big thing – it’s perfectly natural if you’re a bit unnerved. I’m here if you need to talk. I know how much it can help to speak to someone, even if you know there’s no reply coming anytime soon.
Commander Shoreditch
I’m so tired of being abandoned. Commander Shoreditch’s message is reassuring, but it hasn’t helped. I’m exhausted, in every way.
Losing Molly is bringing back the awful feeling of when I lost my parents – less severe, but exactly the same. It’s this horrible drop in my stomach, like when the artificial gravity malfunctions and everything stumbles, tilting sideways momentarily.
Love takes so much energy, and it just leads to pain. I think it’s probably best for people to be self-sufficient. If I was strong enough to be independent, then I wouldn’t be so desperately lonely, I’m sure of it.
I just want someone who holds on. Someone who won’t ever let me go, whatever tries to tear us apart. Is that too much to ask?
I’LL HOLD YOU
by TheLoneliestGirl
Fandom: Loch & Ness (2042)
Relationship: Lyra Loch/Jayden Ness
Tags: Hurt/comfort, canon-compliant
Summary: Lyra gets hurt in the field.
Author’s Note:
I’m not sure why I’m sending this any more, when I know Molly won’t be able to read it.
“Jayden,” Lyra cried, grabbing on to his arm. “It hurts.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, mixing with the rain.
Jayden’s hands were pressed against her stomach, trying to quench the flow of blood from the werewolf bite. She could see it trickling between his fingers, staining his skin a red so dark it was almost black.
“Lyra! Don’t you give up on me, Lyra, not yet. I need you. Just hold on a little longer,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. It was a circle of heat in the cold numbness spreading through her. “Lyra, I’ve got you. The ambulance is on its way.”
“I can’t…” she gasped.
“You can, Lyra,” he said fiercely. Teardrops clung to the tips of his long eyelashes. “You can do anything. You’re stronger than you realize. I believe in you, Lyra Loch.”
“We never even…” she said, thinking of all the missed opportunities, the almosts. They’d never even kissed, and now she was going to die.
“We will,” he said, and she could feel his breath, soft against her cheek. “We will. This isn’t the end.”
Then she heard the sirens, and summoned up all her strength. “We will,” she repeated.
fin.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
346
From: The Infinity Sent: 16/03/2067
To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 20/06/2067
Hi Commander Shoreditch,
I hope all is well on The Eternity. I’m writing because I’ve been going through all the news articles that NASA has sent me over the last three years, looking for information about Earth’s political climate and cursing myself for not reading about it more thoroughly in the first place.
There’s been the usual political tension between countries for months, but nothing that I would expect to become a full-blown war this quickly.
Besides which, how could a war even have affected the DSN facilities that NASA uses to communicate with our ships? The telecommunication antennas are located in countries with very strong alliances – the United States, Spain and Australia. For them to suddenly engage in war doesn’t seem feasible. Not as I currently understand it. At the very least, NASA would still have access to the antenna in California. They should be able to send short messages regularly as the earth rotates and points the antenna in our direction.
In the past, NASA have filtered the information they transmit to me, leaving gaps in newspaper articles. I think they
censor out any media content with a personal connection to me and The Infinity so I don’t get upset.
It makes sense that they’d do the same for news about the war. I think they were trying to stop me from panicking.
You have more recent knowledge of Earth’s political situation. Please tell me everything that you know, even if your response won’t reach me for months. I can’t work out how the jigsaw pieces fit together in a way that explains this situation.
Romy Silvers
I wonder where Molly is now. I think I’m going to carry on sending her messages every day, along with any fics I write, just in case there’s a chance she’s reading them. She’d be worried about me if I stopped.
I just wish I knew if she’s still there. I hope Molly is waiting in the lab for permission to send me messages once the war has died down.
What has she been doing while her last message travelled through space towards me?
Is she dead?
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
338
; I think I’ve worked out a way to contact Molly. I need to get in touch with someone on Earth besides NASA. Even if they’ve stopped using their antennas because of the war, there must be someone else picking up signals, on some continent, in some other organization. If I can just get a message to them, they might be able to pass it on to Molly somehow. Then she can let me know if she’s OK.
I find a list of all the government space agencies around the world, and track down the coordinates of their antennas, satellites and space stations orbiting Earth. It’s a long shot – some of the organizations might not exist at all any more, or might have shut down their operations because of the war too – but I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t even try.
From: The Infinity Sent: 24/03/2067
Predicted date of receipt: 05/12/2068
To: ESA; ISRO; CNSA; JAXA; RFSA; AEM; APSCO; UKSA; ISA; ASI; KCST; KARI; CNES
Subject: FAO Dr Molly Simmons – URGENT
Dear Sir/Madam,
This is Commander Romy Silvers, broadcasting from the NASA spacecraft The Infinity. I am transmitting this message to Earth in the hope of reaching someone who is still scanning for signals from deep space.
I wish to be put in contact with Dr Molly Simmons, an employee at NASA who used to be in charge of my communications with Earth. I have received no information about her whereabouts, and since the war started she might have relocated, but I know that she is a trained psychologist and therapist with a degree from Harvard University. Her sister is a general posted at the military base on Antarctica. She has a cat called Nino.
If there’s any way for you to determine the current location of Dr Simmons and send her this message, I would be very grateful. I would like to know whether she is safe during the conflict on Earth.
