Adrift

An alarm went off in the control center and the intercom voice system came to life.

“Warning! Warning! Sudden Impact! Sudden Impact!”

An asteroid the size of Manhattan came into view, and Space Viking I was about to crash. The only crewmember onboard never imagined she’d hear that alarm go off when she went through the academy. She treated it like the boogeyman—some fake, made-up terror that haunts you by manipulating your imagination. The boogeyman isn’t real, right? He’s not actually going to burst out of my closet, right? The sudden impact alarm isn’t real, right? It’s not actually going to go off, right?

But that’s the thing about fake, made-up terror . . . Once it has dug it’s claws into your mind, it can become as real as flesh and blood.

“Warning! Warning! Sudden Impact! Sudden Impact!”

Rebecca ran to her station and grabbed the brake lever with both hands. Only one hand was needed, but with her life seconds away from being over, both hands reached out. She pulled the lever. The brakes engaged. She screamed.

“Warning! Warning! Sudden—"

***

Breaking News / Chief Director of Space Viking Astronomic and Science, Dr. Rines PhD / Formal Address to the Nation on The Recent Tragedy of Space Viking I / Space Viking Headquarters / Front Lobby

Dr. Rines: We regret to inform the nation as well as the world that the Space Viking I crash landed on an asteroid three days ago. The astronaut and pilot on board was Rebecca Towerson. She was an excellent scientist, explorer, and visionist.

Reporter: Sir, is there any effort for a rescue attempt? How can you confirm that is what happened?

Dr. Rines: There will be no rescue attempt. The Space Viking I was the only vessel in existence capable of navigating through space. We were able to pull data and photos from the cameras located on the outside of the vessel when we received a sudden impact alert, but all data coming in seized soon after that.

Reporter: Sir, did she say anything before the crash?

Dr. Rines: The transmission log is currently under investigation and will not be disclosed at this time.

Reporter: Sir, what does—

Dr. Rines: Listen, everyone. Rebecca Towerson was a one-of-a-kind individual. Without her, the Space Viking I project would’ve never been completed. When I first met her, she told me that when she was a little girl, her dream was not only to make history but to send humankind further than it ever imagined it could go. I understand the recent events are terrible. It’s a tragedy, indeed. But I want each one of you to know that Rebecca Towerson accomplished her dream. She has made history, and she has sent us beyond what we ever imagined was possible. She will never be forgotten. Her legacy will live on forever.

Reporter: Sir, what will you tell her daughter?

Dr. Rines: I will not be taking any more questions at this time.

Reporters: Sir! Sir! Sir!

***

Rebecca’s eyes opened and for a moment she didn’t move. She lay still in her bunk. The room was dim, cool, and quiet. The soft hum of a control panel beside her produced a thoughtless ambiance. She looked at her watch. Did it matter what day or time it was? It was almost as interesting as it was scary to think about. Why? Well, because that was what day and time it was back on Earth. A place so far out of reach, its sight was swallowed by the blackness of space. She remembered the moment it all went to hell.

***

Rebecca was fixing her a cup of tea when the alarm went off. She alerted Earth before she left her station to fix the tea. It was protocol.

Towerson: Low traffic. Taking break.

Earth: Good copy. Enjoy.

Low Traffic meant a sector was clear of space debris (natural-made). This let Rebecca get up, stretch, relieve herself, eat, and rest. High Traffic meant the opposite and she would need to manually navigate the ship through whatever obstacles lay ahead of her.

She was knocked unconscious after the impact. When she woke up hours later, she went to the bathroom to vomit. Concussion—check. Engaging the break didn’t stop the crash from happening but it left the ship intact enough to be able to move and live about it. She was thankful to be alive, but she knew she only prolonged her death. She looked in the mirror and pieced together what happened. The list was short. Low traffic—check. Teatime—check. Asteroid comes out of nowhere—check.

 Rebecca walked back to her station and tried to send a transmission to Earth but the communication system was damaged. She walked to the window in front her station and turned on the outside light. It was terrifying. All she saw was a valley of grey rock before her. In that moment, Rebecca new Space Viking I was adrift, riding on an asteroid, and heading toward the void of the unknown. She analyzed and evaluated the ship’s condition. She only had one question to answer—can we get off this rock? After several hours of troubleshooting, she had her answer—No.

The crash happened three months ago.

***

The control panel warning light turned red, and the screen display lit up. She turned over in her bunk and looked.

Warning: Oxygen Level Low

Oxygen Level: 10%

Time Remaining: 15 Minutes

Action: Refill Immediately

Refilling wasn’t going to happen. The tanks were empty. She used all of them up since the crash. She was surprised she made it last three months. She could’ve made it last longer if she didn’t work so hard to troubleshoot the ship in the first week. It expended a lot of energy and that expended a lot of oxygen.

“Space Viking I to Earth. Over and Out.” Rebecca said and closed her eyes.

The minutes crept by, and the air begin to tighten around her. Suffocation was a strange feeling. It was like standing in the middle of a desert with thirty layers of clothes on. Rebecca thought she would be scared. She thought it would hurt. It didn’t. Her last visions were beautiful—overwhelmingly beautiful.

First, she saw herself as a little girl again running around in the backyard on a summer night in August. She paused to look up at the stars. Her little eyes watched in wonder as a satellite passed over.

Then, she saw herself up on stage graduating from the academy. She saw her mother clapping. Her mother had tears in her eyes. It made Rebecca cry too. I told you, momma, not to cry! Cause if you do, I’m gonna cry too!

Finally, Rebecca saw her daughter approaching.

“My little baby girl . . .” Rebecca said and smiled.

Her daughter held out her hand. “It’s time to go home, Mommy. It’s time now.”

That night, somewhere in the far reaches of space, Rebecca Towerson went home.

***

Annie Towerson got out of the passenger side door of her best friend’s car. It was her first day as a Freshman in High School. She was a bit nervous. Her best friend could see it. A few news vans were parked outside. Their cameras were up and ready to cover the story of the age.

“It going to be okay, Annie. My freshman year was a breeze.”

“It’s not that,” Annie replied.

“What, are you afraid to be the most famous girl here today?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t like it.”

“Live it up. You know you should.”

Annie walked to the front of the car and looked at the school entranceway. In large brick letters above the archway, it read, REBECCA TOWERSON HIGH SCHOOL

Her friend walked up beside her, put her arm around her, and looked at the large brick letters above the archway too. “Listen, Annie. You better not get any crazy ideas about becoming an astronaut, too, okay?”

Annie grinned. “No promises.”

Her best friend sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re killing me, Annie!”

A few students walked by, glanced, and began whispering to each other.

Annie’s best friend grabbed her hand and said, “Come on, Annie. Let’s go say hi to the cameras, shall we?”

Rebecca Towerson’s legacy was already cemented. Her daughter, Annie Towerson . . . Well, her legacy was about to begin.