Life Beyond

It was 2:08 ante meridiem Universal Time, and the Electro Boyz were already blasting at maximum volume. Annika, aroused by the pulsating synthesizer, groaned and fumbled for the temperature dial on her sleeping pod. Aside from the electronic beat vibrating through her skull, the cold was also a shock to her senses. Space was cold. Very cold.

Her fingers, nearly frozen, continued to twist the dial, but to no avail. Finally cracking her eyes open, she saw not the simulated wallpaper of her sleeping pod’s screen, but the fluorescent ceiling lights and sharp wiring of the satellite’s interior. Someone had opened her capsule.

Annika sat up abruptly and swung her legs over the edge of the pod. Not bothering to rearrange her crumpled sheets, she exited the capsule and slammed the lid down. By now, the speakers had switched to a different band.

From the adjacent chamber, Annika could hear a loud, inconsistent crashing noise, not unlike the sound of metal pans being thrown against a wall. She scanned her finger on the touchscreen embedded into the wall, and the metallic doors slid open with a familiar whooosh. At the center of the chamber was a small girl, seemingly overwhelmed by the flashing screens on every wall.

“Punk,” Annika muttered, as she made to disable the system.

Midway through a drum solo, the music came to a halt. The little girl, eyes wild and brown hair matted down with sweat, ceased her dancing and frowned. 

“Stars above, Geni are you crazy? It’s 2:00 am!” Annika finished disarming the system, and all the screens became flush with the wall before turning transparent. The dark expanse of space stretched across each surface.

Geni glanced innocently back at the clock above her own capsule and shrugged. “I wasn’t aware of the time.”

“Liar. You knew I was sleeping! You opened my pod!”

“I did no such thing. It’s not my fault if you forgot to seal yours last night.” She shrugged again, to Annika’s irritation.

Annika clenched her teeth and stalked out of the room.

“Sweet dreams!” Geni called after her.

Annika stomped back to her room and angrily barricaded it. She hated being here—hated living with fourteen-year-old Geni and hated floating around the galaxy in a tin can. For exactly nine years, five months, two weeks, and four days, she had been here, orbiting some solar system with nothing but the vast sea of darkness to look at and only the stars for company—oh, and Geni of course. She had not set foot on solid ground in nearly a decade and had become accustomed to the sterile facilities of the satellite, as well as the daily routine that came with living in space. Every morning she checked the ship’s vitals, recorded the food supply, took a shower, did some exercise. With the exception of Geni’s activities in the early hours of the morning, every day was the same.

Sometimes Annika wondered if her parents knew that she was here—up in space. She wondered if her parents, wherever they were, thought about her too. Or if they were even alive. She faintly recalled that people aged differently in space as opposed to on Earth. She didn’t remember much about her life on Earth, only that it wasn’t a good one. Shortly after she was born, her parents left her at a children’s home to be raised. When the orphanage reached full capacity, the head caretaker entered every child in the Earthen Expansion Program run by the government. Half of the orphans were selected, run through vigorous training, and then sent to orbit Earth for the remainder of their childhood. The instructors at EEP had said this was supposed to be a solution to the increasing overpopulation on the planet. When she had asked if she would ever return they told her that, yes, the goal was to “retrieve” them when they entered adulthood so that they could live a normal life on Earth. But things almost never went according to plan. Upon the launch of their spaceship, a compromise in the structure forced all the passengers to evacuate onto individual satellites mid-course. Thus, Annika and Geni were left alone in the middle of the galaxy.

Annika didn’t know much about Geni’s past life—Geni had been too young to remember many details. But over time, the girls learned about each other by observing the other’s habits and idiosyncrasies. Being Geni’s senior by three years, Annika had taken over the responsibilities of asserting any order to their daily lives. Every morning she prepared their meals, and every night she made sure Geni was enclosed in her capsule by 9:00pm. She didn’t particularly enjoy being the head of their so-called household, but part of her believed that the stars were watching her and that one day she would be allowed to go back to Earth for her good deeds. It was a childish notion, but then again, she had never really had a childhood.

A new sort of music started blaring from the speakers, but Annika was already sealing her capsule.

“Show me the sky.”

A pale blue backdrop scattered with streaks of white filled her vision. On the edge of consciousness, Annika could not distinguish the backdrop from a dream.

Annika rewoke to the harsh sound of pounding on glass and felt her capsule quaking. The sun shone blindingly in her face, and for a moment she thought they’d crashed on Earth. She quickly cleared the simulation away. Though the trembling had subsided, the pounding still resonated in her bones.

Looking down at her through the glass screen was Geni, her fist poised in the air, unsure whether Annika was awake yet.

Annika started out of bed before realizing she had not yet unsealed her sleeping pod. Slowly, she unhitched the inner latch and released the lid. She lowered herself onto the floor and lunged for Geni. Grasping the girl’s shoulders, she shook her torso back and forth until her arms grew tired of the motion. Before she could stop herself, her hand was cutting through the air. Her palm was a clap of thunder, loud enough to fell cities.

“That was the last straw! You do not have a right to hack into my room at—” She glanced back at the clock display, but paused upon realizing how late in the morning it was. “—at whatever time you feel! I’m sick and tired of you tormenting me like this!”

Geni opened her mouth to respond, but instead began to massage her stinging cheek. After a moment she said, “We’re so close. So close.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and Annika could sense the desperation in her voice. She was about to apologize when something flickered in the outer chamber.

“What do you mean?” she asked at last.

Geni brushed past her, but waited at the exit for Annika to follow. Geni led her through the hallway connecting their rooms, and then through the sliding doors to her own chamber. The walls were still set to transparent mode, but instead of the endless darkness and twinkling stars, Annika was left staring at a swirl of green, blue, white, and yellow. Most amazingly, it seemed to be expanding.

“Geni, what is this? Did you program this?”

Geni shook her head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to show you. This is the closest we’ve come in orbit to Earth.”

Annika ran her fingers down the glass barrier. It was so vivid, so real. She was amazed that something so huge and so far could seem so close to her. She had observed the Earth from afar, from among the glittering constellations and the endlessness of space, but up close, it was surreal. And more than anything else, Annika wanted to be there.

“Geni, you said this is the closest we’ve been in years?”

“Yes. Not since year one.”

“And the chances that we’ll ever be this close?”

“Well, since our orbital pattern is irregular...it could be years…another decade probably.”

They were passing the planet quickly; wisps of white slipped beyond view.

Annika ran to the nearest port and swiped through the satellite’s vitals. She cleared the screen and pulled up the craft’s emergency procedures.

Geni approached her from behind, and watched as Annika redirected their course. Annika only stopped to consider what she was doing when Geni rugged her arm back.

“No, Annika. No way.”

Annika shook her off and refocused on the panel.

“Anni, we’ll burn up entering Earth’s atmosphere. We have no place to land, and we’ll probably die before we crash and kill a hundred people upon impact,” Geni protested.

“Geni, don’t you see? We will either die up here all alone when our food supply runs out, or we could die trying to change our fate. Geni, I want better for us. I want to see the stars from Earth, not the other way around. I want to live—to really live. I can’t do that in space, I just can’t.”

Geni glanced back over her shoulder, at the Earth that was fading from view. Then at Annika, whom she had known nearly her entire life. “Okay. But we’d better not die.”

“Roger that.”

Seconds later their satellite was hurtling towards Earth. The small spacecraft rattled, and this was what Annika imagined it felt like to be inside a washing machine. They were being tossed about the chamber, and their satellite about space. It was the most intense—and most thrilling—experience that both girls had ever had.

All they had to do now was survive re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere and hope for the best. Even as they were being thrown across space, Annika knew she had made the right decision. Because all she could think about was vast canvas of color rising up to meet them, and the endless possibilities ahead.

The satellite’s fluorescent lights began to flash: a warning. Debris was burning up beside them, and yet all Annika could focus on was the precious land approaching. Through the flames even, her dreams had never been so close.