by Casey Herzog
Peter smiled back. “It's pretty special. Best to remember it now though. We won't be doing ten-minute trips in Zero G anymore. From here on, this is going to be every day.” His smile faltered as he considered this. There was a lot that would feel new over the next few weeks, maybe even months... How far into their six-year voyage would it take before Zero G felt as normal as gravity?
Within the confines of the shuttle trip, the joy of Zero G lasted approximately thirty minutes. Once the crew realized they were still tethered to their seats and unable to float more than a few inches in any direction, the novelty became less compelling. A few boys began to play the most tediously ironic game of eye spy, alternating between: green flashing light on the control panel and blue flashing light on the control panel. A few of the girls complained about the lack of recreation facilities. More commercial space shuttles were equipped with TV, cinema, music, and gaming systems to keep them entertained in-flight. As the attractive looking navigation officer pointed out though: “You're going to have to get used to long stretches of time like this.” And they would. In the event the Unity ever suffered a major hull breach, most of the crew would be forced to suit up and sit in a cramped corner of the ship while a select few tried to patch the hole and re-pressurize the ship.
Peter found sleep to be the best remedy for boredom. Having spent so long awake the previous night, it was easy enough to catch few hours of uninterrupted sleep. There was little point talking to the others. Now that the joys of weightlessness had worn off, the smiles were gone and the social norms of the cohort returned. Simply to avoid unnecessary conversations, he kept his eyes closed, even when awake. Of course, he would sometimes listen to the others. Around the nineteenth hour, he felt a little smug to hear two of the girls complain about their need to use the toilet. He wouldn't mention the diapers they were wearing again...but that was what they were there for. Learning to let go in your own suit was just one of the indignities they would need to become used to in this brave new world.
It was a little sad to think about, but by the time Pluto Cohort was able to dock with the Unity, its passengers were far too fatigued and irritable from their long confinement to fully appreciate stepping onto their new home and place of work. Even Peter, who had managed to catch a reasonable amount of sleep during the voyage, barely registered the moment when he floated lazily from his seat. While some more cautious souls like Nisha carefully moved by gripping the side rails and shimmying along, Peter kicked off from his seat with purpose, bouncing himself off the walls with reckless speed and purpose. It was a little clumsy, and he almost missed the first turn he needed to make, but it was still the faster method of movement. He was essentially a pinball and his arms and legs were the bumpers preventing him from falling off the table. He was not the only one moving through Zero Gravity this way. Most of the other boys in the cohort took off in this way, some of the most reckless trying to race each other.
“Cut that out troops, we travel in an orderly fashion. You're not a bunch of bumper cars.”
The boys, including Peter, looked back in surprise. The voice that had spoken was not a voice of experience. It was a young voice, not quite broken: a voice like their own. Alphred was nearby, holding one of the support railings, floating beneath them, and looking up with a fierce glint in his green eyes. It was the first order he had given as cohort leader, and pretty much the first word many had heard him speak at all. Peter looked to the two boys above him. They floated, silent and dumbfounded. They looked at each other as though trying to work out what they should do. Fortunately, the navigation officer was still on hand to help them.
“Disobeying your cohort command is no different than deliberately disobeying an order from any chief of staff. If I were you, I'd get yourselves tethered to the wall before Mr. Armstrong has to impose punitive measures on you. After such a long journey, I doubt you want to spend tomorrow in solitary confinement.”
Both Peter and the other boys reached out to the nearest wall railings and pulled themselves close to the wall as the rest of their cohort floated out of the shuttle and into the long corridor.
“Very good,” Alphred affirmed as he floated up through the midst of his team. All crew are present and accounted for Officer Stoker. Permission to lead the squad to the living rotunda?”
“Permission granted.” The navigation officer seemed to give the boys in the division another warning look before setting off in her own direction.
Alphred pursed his lips and set his sights upward...or was it downward? “Pluto Cohort, follow me and stick to the railing ladders for movement. Barreling down the center of the corridor is for emergency protocols only.” His warning given, Alphred led by example, using the rungs built into the sides of the wall to propel himself along the wide circular tube that was the Unity's main artery.
CHAPTER 6
Moving between the weightless space of the Unity and into its two centrifugal blocks was a tough challenge for the uninitiated. As you reached each ring, you were presented with four revolving corridors that spun about. This was the first challenge: floating into one corridor before it passed you by. This hurdle proved difficult for some of the more cautious members of Pluto Cohort, and some required assistance from a few of the chiefs of staff to time their movements properly.
Once you were in the corridor, something very strange seemed to happen. As you climbed the rungs of the ladder, the weightless started to slip away. Suddenly, your body had weight, and if you weren't prepared for it, you'd end up falling. This was more an embarrassment than an actual danger though, as you could only fall a short way before your body found that sweet pocket of Zero G again. By the time you reached the hatch and hoisted yourself into the rotunda - or hamster wheel – it was as if you'd returned to Earth once more. Your body returned to its proper weight, and you had to hoist yourself up through the hatch to come out onto solid ground. The rotundas spun at just the right speed to simulate Earth's 1G force on the body. Without this, no astronaut’s body would be able to resist atrophying from long periods inactivity. It also allowed one to live a far more ordinary life while in space.
It took a while before all of Pluto Cohort were successfully hauled into the rotunda. Peter fared better than most. Aside from a brief wobble when the gravity bubble hit him, he was able to make the transition between the weightless and weighted sections of the ship with relative ease. It gave him a smug feeling, and it was hard to stop a broad grin from sweeping over his features. To keep himself occupied with other things, he stayed near the hatch, lending a hand to help pull up those who were struggling to get on board.
After a few minutes, all of Pluto Cohort were aboard and lined up, those nearest the hatch looking down into it. They had all studied the way centrifuges worked to create artificial gravity on a space faring vessel, but it was a challenge for the eyes and mind to actually experience the effects in action. Peter stared into the hole, fascinated by the knowledge that he could descend down that ladder, let go half way down and find himself floating in Zero-G.
Suddenly, something more interesting than the hole in the ground caught Peter's attention. Walking past him was a girl wearing the familiar patch worn by members of the Pluto Cohort. However, his eyes had to take a double take when he saw her. She was tall, tremendously so. Alphred was the tallest male in the group, a full head taller than anyone else, and next to this girl he looked like a dwarf. Without any sense of irony, she walked to the cohort leader’s side and stood next to him, the action only helping to highlight the comical differences between them all the more. Alphred would have a hard time being taken seriously with this girl stood next to him.
“Cohort, before we move on to our new quarters and take our designated tour of the Unity in its entirety, it seems sensible for me to introduce myself and my second properly. I am Alphred Armstrong, age thirteen. I have been on numerous space assignments on Lunar Base and at the Gate. As our team has the longest distance to travel with this ship, I wish to see us all take the
name of our new home to heart. Unity. Unity is our mission, and it must also be our way amongst each other. I wish to see us working like a well-oiled machine. Our gears must mesh and work as one. I do not wish for us grind against each other, or wear one another down.” He went silent for a moment, and Peter noted his gaze falling on him. Were his words meant for him, or was he trying to discourage others from ostracizing him? Whichever it was, it wasn't good.
“I would also like to take the opportunity to introduce my second, Minerva Tharsis. We are very lucky to have Minerva attached to our squad. She is Martian born, and thus, has more experience flying and living in the void than some of us will ever hope to achieve.”
“Hello.” That was it. Minerva, the tall Amazonian who towered over the rest of the cohort gave a gentle smile and ran a hand over her bald head. It was a little bit anti-climactic, and a few of the guys gave each other looks, trying to suppress laughter.
After pausing a long moment for his second to add anything additional introduction, Alphred finally realized she was not going to add anything further. He cleared his throat and continued on with his obviously pre-planned speech. “Well, let us find our quarters. Due to the size of the ship and our need to economize on space, you will find your bunks are three high. There is not much room for privacy in your individual quarters.”
The cohort followed behind, some already whispering about who they would want to bunk with. Peter had a feeling their bunks would already be assigned to them, but that probably wouldn't stop people from trying to swap.
After passing the quarters for the other five cohorts on the mission, the troops were brought to their own block. The fifteen girls were made to line up with Minerva, and the boys with Alphred. Their leader looked to his watch. “We are due to begin our full tour of the ship in forty. Minerva, can you have the girls lined up and ready in thirty-three? I am anxious not to keep Chief Evans waiting.”
Minerva nodded, taking a moment to glance at her own watch. “Sure thing. Okay, let's go. Just so we're clear, the really long bunk is mine.”
Peter chuckled to hear the second. She was very straightforward and far too casual for Alphred's tastes, he guessed. Although he didn't want to make assumptions, her special snowflake status as a Martian was liable to make her as much a pariah in the group as he was. Though he didn't dare to hope, he wondered if they might strike some kind of understanding based on their unique positions within the group. He had thought she had glanced at him a few times as they walked down the corridor, but this could easily have been his imagination fueling his hopes.
A nudge from the person behind him reminded Peter the line was moving, and he shuffled obediently into the boys’ dorm. It was nothing special. There were fifteen bunks, arrayed just as Alphred had described. There was a wardrobe containing one size fits all uniforms for the cohort, along with a separate bin for used clothes. There was a shower cubicle to the right of the room, this on inspection was very basic: five partitions and five nozzles, with soap provided on a stand. Even when compared to the rooms they had endured as wards of the state, the space was considerably more Spartan than the group were used to.
There were no names on the bedposts, so the majority of the time was spent watching the boys argue about who would bunk with who. More important was the issue of who took top and middle bunks. Aside from Peter, Alphred was the only one not to get involved in the squabble. This meant, once again, he gravitated slowly to Peter's side as they watched the group argue and negotiate terms for their beds.
“That was quite a stunt you performed on Goswami. I continue to be impressed by your ability to suss out the needs of the cohort.”
“I don't know what you’re talking about,” Peter insisted, leaning his back against the wall.
“The diaper conversation you had with her. You played her annoyance and the cohort's natural dislike of you to help her forget the anxiety she was feeling pre-launch.”
“Wait, what? Are you saying the cohorts don't like me? Alphred you've hurt me, right here.” Peter clutched his heart and made his best wounded face.
“Look, can it will you; it's meant to be a compliment. Though, if you would prefer me to critique your methodology, it is something of a double-edged sword. Using your unpopularity as a tool will only get you so far. Play too much on their prejudices and you will find yourself permanently excluded from the cohort and unable even to use your current tricks in order to aid the team.”
“Well, if you have some magical friendship dust in your pockets you want to sprinkle on the others, feel free to go nuts.”
Alphred pursed his lips. “Nothing quite as convenient, but I am considering making you my third.”
“What?” Peter spoke too loudly and several heads turned to look on him.
Alphred looked to his cohort with a hard stare. “What are you looking at? Carry on sorting yourselves out, men.”
“Your third,” Peter repeated. “Is that even a thing?”
“It's an unofficial title, but it still has weight. It was one of the suggestions put forward by all cohort leaders that the Chiefs actually approved. We have no choice in our seconds, but to have a confidant who we can trust as our third seems like a smart move. There would be no official extra duties or responsibilities for you to perform. All it would mean is that during meetings with the chiefs, I could elect to bring you along as an extra voice at my side.”
“So am I good cop or bad cop?”
“Neither, I hope. You've already displayed a natural ability to read the cohort. You are a quicker study than I am, so I will rely on you to advise me of likely reactions to situations, which orders will cause contention, and the likely ripples cast over the group as we fulfill our mission.”
“Gee whiz, I don't know Alphie!” Peter said in a girlish tone. “This is just all happening so fast. Next thing you know, we'll be moving in together.”
“As good as.”
“What?”
“Those two bunks there are the only ones left. I call bottom; I like to get on my feet quickly when the need arises.”
Serendipity seemed bent on proving Alphred's point at that moment. A red light began to flash on the cabin wall, and a low, dull siren began to wail. The boys all froze at once, all debates about bunks and living arrangements forgotten.
“What the hell is that?” Peter looked to Alphred for answers.
“No idea.” Somehow, the cohort leader was in perfect control, not a wrinkle or hint of concern on his brow. “It's not a drill; none are scheduled. Do you want to find out what the trouble is?”
“What?” Peter felt more confused as he listened to his commander.
“All cohort leaders report to the bridge for an emergency.” Alphred looked to him expectantly. His body was already tensed and ready to move; he was only waiting on Peter.” If you agree to be my third, then you're in too. Your choice: stay here and guess what's going on with the others, or come with me and Minerva and get it straight from the horse's mouth.”
That was all the incentive Peter needed.
CHAPTER 7
The corridor was completely deserted. The space was filled with an eerie red glow, and no one was about. There were worried sounds and raised voices from inside the various dorm rooms, but that was all. Peter felt a lump growing in his throat, and a part of his mind demanded to know what had possessed him to leave the safety of the dorm in the first place. He was not given time to question himself properly, when a tall, lithe creature called out from behind him.
“Oh, hey.” Minerva was just as calm, if not calmer than Alphred. She walked at a casual pace toward them and looked at Peter with curiosity. “Hey, I saw you earlier. You're Peter Denver, right. I watched a whole documentary about you. Wow, that was moving stuff.”
“Yeah, that's me, but I think we have more important things to be thinking about right now, don't you?” Peter pointed to the ominous red bulbs lighting the corridor.
“Oh, that's nothing. Ninety-eight percent of the things tha
t can kill you in space do so quickly. If we were going all going to die, we'd be dead by now.”
“Huh, good to know.” Peter gazed blankly up at the bald-headed giant smiling down on him. Just how much more Zen could you get?
“Regardless, we should report to the bridge post haste.” Alphred began to move up the corridor to the access hatch.
Minerva and Peter followed after him, Peter moving at a jog, and Minerva walking quickly. With her long legs, she was able to keep up with the two boys without increasing her speed. Even through the alarm and the red lights, Peter was aware her eyes followed him with a childlike curiosity as they followed their leader to the open hatch.
Alphred wasted no time, climbing down the ladder, and then, letting go half way down to swim through the Zero-G. Peter let out a whistle, “I am never going to get used to this.”
“I know; I always love the subtle feeling of gravity creeping up on you as you go up and disappearing as you go down. It’s what I imagine ocean tides feel like.” Minerva grinned. It was weird to hear her talk about the ocean,never having been there, knowing she never would.
