The Loneliest Girl in the Universe
Page 5
I will be for ever in your debt if you could grant me this favour.
Yours faithfully,
Commander R. Silvers
Message to Dr Molly Simmons as follows:
Molly,
I really hope you get this message. I’m completely out of other ideas for how to speak to you.
I’m so worried about you, and I just can’t stand not knowing whether you’re safe any more. Are you OK? Please, please be OK.
I hope your sister is safe too. I hope she’s not fighting in the war, or at least that she’s not on the front line.
More than anything, I just want to hear from you again. I’ve been very lucky, as I have Commander Shoreditch of The Eternity to talk to. His support has been incredible. But I miss you so much it hurts.
Stay safe, for me.
Romy x
I stay up late writing fic, practising the piano on the helm’s touchscreen and basically doing anything possible to avoid going to sleep. I can’t have another dream about the astronauts. I can’t handle that, not on top of everything else.
I’ve had the nightmares since I was four, when we lost the astronauts. The sight of hundreds of corpses has been impossible to erase from my mind. I don’t really remember a time before the astronauts began to haunt my nights.
Dad used to let me sleep in his bunk in those early days when my mother wasn’t sleeping at all. When she just stayed in the sick bay, trying and failing to fix what had gone wrong.
Some nights, Dad would wake up screaming from nightmares too. I think that made it worse. For everything else that upset me, Dad was there to make it better. A problem with the ship? He knew what to do. A headache or injury? He could fix it.
But the astronauts – they scared him too. They scared him more than they did me. That left me petrified. If my incredible, brave, genius father was helpless against them, then what hope did I have?
There was nothing to be done back then but wait it out.
All three of us tried our best. I suppose the lingering nightmares are a small price to pay for what happened to them. I got off lightly, compared with my mother.
I wake up shivering at five in the morning to find myself still at the helm, my head pillowed on my arms and a fic open on the computer. Line after line of Js fill the page. I must have fallen asleep with my head touching the keyboard, typing Jayden’s name.
jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj
I delete the letters and go to my bunk.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
330
From: The Eternity Sent: 10/10/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 01/04/2067
Commander Silvers,
I’m writing because I don’t know what else to do any more. I’ve spent the last few months wishing and hoping that NASA will get back in touch with us. But it looks like the DSN communications aren’t going to be reinstated for a while yet.
I’m at a loss. I can’t stop thinking about my friends. They’re all stuck on Earth in the middle of a war, and I can’t even make sure they are safe. I don’t know if they are in a war zone or not.
Although it’s only supposed to be an official communication line for emergencies, I’m really glad I can at least speak with you, Commander Silvers. If you don’t mind, I think I might send you more frequent messages from now on. I don’t know whether you’ll welcome these messages, but seeing as you can’t tell me one way or another just yet, I’m going to keep talking to you anyway. Feel free to ignore my chatter or not, as you wish.
Whatever happens on Earth, at least it won’t affect our actual ships. Not even the largest nuclear bombs can stretch this far, I hope.
Commander Shoreditch (but you can call me J. We might as well drop the formalities at this point, don’t you think, Romy?)
From: The Infinity Sent: 01/04/2067
To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 30/06/2067
J,
I’m so sorry. It never even occurred to me that you wouldn’t have heard from your family and friends since the war started. I hope this war ends soon, for your sake more than my own.
Of course you can talk to me, if it will help you. It would be comforting for me too. We can be interstellar penpals.
Romy
I keep catching myself gazing into nothing, hands loose at my sides. I’ve got a horrible feeling that I’m falling into a trap, but I can’t work out what kind of trap it could possibly be.
I’m sure it’s just paranoia. My brain is playing tricks on me, in the same way it always does whenever I see a flicker of light and become certain that there’s someone just around the corner, watching me.
The war can’t hurt me. I’m only a bystander. It’s not my problem. Whatever “nuclear bombs” Commander Shoreditch – J – thinks are being let off on Earth, they can’t touch me here.
My brain doesn’t seem to want to listen. I’ve got that familiar worry about everything going wrong. I need to make sure I’m ready. I need to know how everything on The Infinity works, in case there’s an emergency. I’m on my own now, at least until The Eternity catches up.
If I get ill, there will be no one to help me. No one to fix me if I break. I try to ease my worries by giving myself a medical exam. I take my pulse, my temperature, and my glucose levels using a urine sample.
The readouts tell me that I’m fine. I can’t quite believe them. I decide to start checking myself every week. I can’t get ill. I need to be OK.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
328
From: The Eternity Sent: 18/10/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 03/04/2067
Dear Romy,
It’s harder than I thought it would be to talk to a person who can’t reply. I’m not really sure what to write about. I suppose the best place to start, if we are actually going to get to know each other, is to tell you about myself. If nothing else, that should make our first meeting a little less awkward.
Here’s a short history of Commander J Shoreditch. I’m a 22-year-old male. I studied medicine at college. In my second year, I decided that I just couldn’t spend another three years studying, so I did the obvious thing and applied for a job at NASA.
At the time, they were looking for trainee astronauts to prepare for the new mission. I somehow conned my way into the position, probably helped by the fact that the program director was an alumnus of my college. I am perfectly willing to take advantage of my privilege.
I’m pretty honored to be chosen, even though my entire job is to grow old in space, as a caretaker in the service of humanity.
Which brings us up to today, which I spent marathoning an entire series of a TV show. Clearly I have quite the illustrious career.
You’re writing back, aren’t you? I hope you are. That would make this whole sending-messages-to-a-stranger thing a lot less weird. I can’t believe you won’t read this message for over a year. I feel like I’m talking to the future.
J
J is only twenty-two! That’s so much younger than I was expecting. I suppose it makes sense to send out young astronauts, so they aren’t old by the time we reach Earth II, but still – twenty-two. That’s only a few years older than me.
No wonder it’s so easy to talk to him. We’re peers. I’ve never had a peer before. And twenty-two is close enough to my age that it’s not—
I mean, it’s a bit weird, but … Jayden was only twenty-two in Series 1 of Loch & Ness, when Lyra was nineteen. That’s almost the same age difference as between me and J, plus or minus a few years. OK, three years.
But still. It’s close. Close enough for— I don’t even let myself think what for.
My body suddenly feels too big for me, too grown-up and strong for the young girl inside it. I’m not ready to be this person, in this situation. I can’t think about this. I refuse.
It’s enough just to know how old he is for now. J is twenty-two, a boy, clever and funny – and, be
st of all, apparently interested in talking to me. It’s flattering in a confusing, lovely way.
From: The Infinity Sent: 03/04/2067
To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 02/07/2067
J,
I’m so glad you finally told me about yourself. I had been wondering who you were. It’s amazing that you’re only 22 and you’re an astronaut. That’s so impressive.
I’m not really sure what to tell you about myself in return, but here are some facts about me.
• I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t related to me.
• I’m never going to see planet Earth.
• I’m the only person to have ever been born in space. (I know you know this one already. But this is the only interesting thing about me! I’m really boring, honestly.)
• I love writing.
• I can tell you more things I’ve never done than things I have done.
Romy
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
327
Today, in my endless search for every bit of data from Earth that I have saved on my hard drive, I somehow found myself looking through the old security footage from the ship. Recordings from years ago are still archived, stretching all the way back to when I was a baby. From before everything went wrong.
I find a clip of Dad in The Infinity’s kitchen, feeding me some kind of mashed-up food and cooing to me gently. The cameras are in the ceiling, so the angle is too high to see our faces – just the top of our heads in the corner of the picture. The rest of the shot captures the curve of the clean white wall, the chrome fittings shining in the fluorescent lights.
I can tell that I’m happy. My chubby arms wave around, knocking the baby food across my high chair. Dad tips his head back and laughs. I can make out the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. My heart bumps.
He leans over and kisses my forehead before he starts cleaning up.
I watch until the door slides open as my mother enters the room and starts talking to Dad. She’s smiling.
Suddenly the ache in my throat is gone. Here is my mother, smiling, laughing, joking. This is what my parents’ marriage must have been like, when my mother could look at Dad and me without seeing the faces of the astronauts.
She looks like a different person. Contented and carefree. The recording shows me the mother I might have had, if things had been different.
I close down the file, feeling worse than I did before.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
322
From: The Eternity Sent: 07/11/2065
To: The Infinity Received: 09/04/2067
Romy,
I’ve been trying to imagine what kind of messages you’re sending me. Presuming that you are, and that you’re being friendly, I’ve come up with a few questions you might have asked. So I’m going to answer your hypothetical questions. That way you don’t have to wait months for answers!
What do you look like?
I’ve got brown hair and brown eyes and all of my teeth. I’m five foot nine.
When’s your birthday?
In seven months, twenty days on June 27th. Hope you got me something nice!
What do you think Earth II will be like?
I have no idea. That seems so far off that I’ve not even thought about it yet. I like the two suns. I’ve been running simulations during my training and it all looks kind of like a giant desert.
Speaking of the training – is yours as algebraic as mine? I thought we were supposed to be starting a new civilization, not solving Fermat’s last theorem!
Before the launch, NASA Earth told me that you’ve been studying astrophysics since you were eight. That’s really impressive, Romy. I can’t believe you’re only sixteen and you’re at the same level as I am. You’re really cool.
Do you miss your family?
I don’t really have much family. Both of my parents died when I was young. You don’t need to tell me that you’re sorry or anything – it’s not your fault, right? Anyway, it was a long time ago. Though time doesn’t really make any difference to pain. It never disappears.
I still catch myself making a note of scandalous things to tell my mom (she was a really big gossip). I still remember the smell of my father’s cologne.
I still get unbelievably angry when I think about how young they were when they died. It’s so unfair that preventable things happen to good people, just through carelessness. That pain hasn’t dulled at all.
Anyway, the answer to my self-asked question is that I always miss my family, but that’s nothing new.
What’s your favourite animal?
Seals. Whenever I get sad, I watch videos of seals on YouTube. They’re basically mermaid dogs, and they are all giant idiots. I love them.
What should I do about my [miscellaneous illness]?
Take some penicillin and/or vitamins. I told you, I dropped out of college after two years. I can’t help you much.
So … was I close? Are these the questions you’ve been asking? Was I even in the vicinity of being close? Do you care about my life at all?
J
I’ve got really bad period pains today, so I decide to make a blanket fort. I balance blankets over the top of the lounge area so that the sofa, set into the floor, turns into a tiny, comfy cocoon.
The fabric tinges the light a peaceful shade of pink, and I curl up inside my fort and listen to the softest classical music I can find. I reread all of J’s emails, one after the other, coming back again and again to the description of what he looks like, from today’s email.
Brown hair and eyes. Five foot nine.
I sketch a doodle of how I picture him in my head. He comes out looking like Jayden Ness, with a mess of tight curls on his head, and long eyelashes surrounding eyes filled with warmth. He’s smiling a bright, brilliant smile, one hand raised in a wave.
I carefully tape it to the wall next to my bunk so I can look at it before I go to sleep. With J and Jayden to look at, I feel safer. Like they’re watching over me.
From: The Infinity Sent: 09/04/2067
To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 05/07/2067
J,
Your last message was like seeing inside my own head. The way you feel about your parents – that’s exactly how I feel about mine too. It’s like you’ve been reading my diary. (I don’t write a diary, but still.)
I really am sorry they died, even though you told me not to say that. You don’t deserve to have had such a horrible thing happen to you. I can’t stop thinking about you being left alone like that. I just want to go back in time and give you the biggest, warmest hug you’ve ever had.
How did they die? Did you decide to apply for The Eternity’s mission because of their deaths? You don’t have to tell me if it’s too raw. I still can’t even think about my parents’ deaths, let alone talk about them. It just – it feels less real if I don’t focus on the details.
On a lighter note, happy belated birthday for … last year. Ahem. Well, it’s the thought that counts. Maybe this message will get to you by your next birthday instead.
Happy 23rd/24th/25th birthday! [delete as applicable]
You did answer some of the questions I was wondering about, thank you. That made talking to you with this long delay a bit less frustrating.
I have one other question for you – what do you look like? In my head I keep picturing you like Jayden Ness from Loch & Ness. The way you described yourself sounded a bit like him, and he was studying to be a doctor too before he joined the supernatural police. (Plus Jayden is a selkie, so he turns into a seal, your favourite animal!)
Also, I have to admit that I’m not the physics genius you’ve been told. Ever since my parents died, I’ve been finding it really hard to do any calculations at all. Every time I try, my brain just seizes up.
It sounds like maybe you felt the same way, when you stopped studying medicine. Did you quit because the pressure made it hard for you to focus? How did you fix that when you joined N
ASA? I’ve tried everything, and nothing works. I’d love some tips.
R
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
319
Today the computer alerts me that the annual maintenance tasks for the ship are overdue.
Dad and I used to do them together. He would make it into a game, asking me to hand him tools as if I was his assistant. We would do the more simple things first, like recalibrating the thermal management system to the correct temperature for the life support, and cleaning the filters of the thrust boosters. When I got bored and went off to play, he’d do the difficult jobs.
We used to carry our lunches with us and take long breaks to eat them, even though it would have taken all of five minutes to go back to the kitchen – the ship isn’t very large. But Dad said that was missing the point of a good old-fashioned picnic. We would sit on the floor in the corridor and eat sandwiches, sipping lukewarm tea from a Thermos flask.
Once, my mother came across us while we were eating our picnic. By the time I was about nine, she tended to keep to herself. I hadn’t seen her in weeks. I remember she just looked at us. I could tell she had absolutely no idea what we were doing, or why – even though she’d been the one to teach me about the importance of maintaining the ship in the first place, back when we created our model of The Infinity. When she saw us sitting there, she just turned and walked away. Dad stopped talking mid-sentence. I touched his arm, but he looked at me like he’d forgotten what we were doing there too.
That memory hurts. We’d already lost her, and I didn’t even know it.
When I find myself staring into space, I shake myself and go back to reading through the computer’s instructions for the first task. I need to replace a circuit board which is running on lowered efficiency in the sun room.
I use the 3D printer to make a new board, and open up the back panel of the UV light. Using a small screwdriver, I swap the old board for the new.
A memory I didn’t know I had appears in my mind: following my mother around while she changed a circuit board in a door lock. I must have only been four. I remember tugging on her overalls, begging her to play with me. I remember her grabbing my arms and pulling me away from an open panel.