Reaching Orbit

Reaching Orbit

Frank Stein

The plane seemed massive for just a crew of ten. There were four of us tourists - going to space for the first time, and there were two shuttle pilots and two airplane pilots and two others who, well I am not sure what they did, they said that they made sure that nobody died.  So I was glad to have them.

The plane was an old airliner with a winged rocket perched on top. They were going to take off like a normal plane and when we got high enough, and if everything was okay, we would climb into the rocket and get launched into orbit. Both the airplane and the rocket were made of some aluminum alloy composite. It did not feel like it was the safest place in the world, but I guess they knew what they were doing. After all, you could not keep a tourists-to-space business going if you killed all your customers. 

We got in and got settled. There were about twenty regular airline seats, so no one sat that close together. We had gone through some training, so I had an idea of who the others were. 

MacArthur Jones, what a moniker, went by Jonesy - no wonder. He had made a lot of money in some tech start-up. He walked down the aisle in an olive-drab vest and khaki cargo pants. He would have looked more at home in a jungle than here, “Hey Kiddo, you ready for this?” 

I smiled and nodded, “Yeah,” I was the kiddo here—only twenty. Most of the crew was at least twice as old as me, and most of the tourists were three times as old as me. I had landed a spot after my dad had passed. We were saving up to go together. He had been a high school science teacher, which would have been a career-defining ride.  I just liked my dad and wanted to experience things with him. He died of a slow, persistent cancer two years before he could have retired. I felt funny about being here, but I guess I am honoring him. 

Sofia was a 70-year-old great-grandma from Eastern Europe. She had outlived a lot of her family. She had given up on religion and was searching for meaning here. I’m not sure how looking at the Earth or almost dying would help you find meaning. She sat up front, chatting with the remaining member of our quartet, Maya. Maya had crowd-sourced the funding for her spot. She was a social worker from Louisiana. It was said that she had the biggest heart, but she looked old and tired to me. 

I was looking out the window as the jet rolled down the tarmac. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, and my chest rattled as I saw my Dad’s face. I knew that he would not be joining me other than my memory of him. It was a younger face that I chose to remember. A scraggly beard and a crooked smile. That was so much better than the bloated face of death as he lay bedridden for the last two months of his life. How I had wished that he could have died and be done with the pain. He sat and looked at me with sad eyes, not having the strength to say anything more. How do you tell someone that you have always loved just to die already?  And this is the ending that we will have if we are lucky. Life sucks. I sobbed, rubbing the seam of my pants - wishing that I could squeeze his hand one last time. 

“You okay, kid?” Jonesy called across the aisle.

 I wiped the tears from my face on my sleeve. “Yeah,” I said, turning towards the window to hide my shame. 

“I get it. I lost my pop two years ago. It doesn’t get any easier.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it looks like we have a perfect day. Let's get you up into the Horizon Rocket.”

The limited training that we had took over. We were all on our feet and in the boarding sequence for the flight. The two shuttle pilots were already in their seats, going over the checklist. The passenger compartment was small, it was painted black so as not to take away from our view. I was assigned a rear seat next to Sofia, but if I had a mind to, I could have reached out and touched any of the passengers. The two crewmen “who made sure no one died” came through our cabin with their checklists, went back, and sealed our cabin from the outside. 

Sofia squeezed my hand hard. I was not ready for that, but it felt good to have some human contact. There was a small pop, and the rockets were ignited. We were pushed back in our seats. At this point, we could still feel the gravity, so we could feel the climb into the thermosphere. The way that the wings were below the windows, we could see nothing of the land below us. Outside, things had gotten darker. After a few minutes, the rocket rolled onto its back - revealing the Earth below us.

The curvature of the Earth was readily observable. Swirls of cloud perched over the deep blue of the ocean and the crust of the land looked very much like a topographic map, with greens and browns and tans exactly where you would expect them to be. 

“It’s hard to believe that all of human history, everything that we learn about, everything that we care about, happened there,” Sofia said, squeezing my hand harder. “I have watched my family grow and die. Die in wars, die in accidents, suicides, why?”

“Damned if I know,” I guessed that somewhere in my subconsciousness, I guessed that if I swore, I would sound more poignant. 

“When my Dad died, it was the hardest day of my life.”

“Try having a child die.” 

“No thanks.”

“You know,” I motioned to our home planet, “we are just like the scum that lives on the outer layer of that rock. How can we think that we are special? How can we think that our lives have any point?”

“You know kid,” Jonesy had turned in his seat, “I came up here looking for meaning. I made a lot of money providing crap to people. Things that they did not know that they wanted. Just making money hand over fist so that I could get mine. This,” gesturing to the Earth, “is not providing any answers. It’s all just a waste of time. Why do anything?”

Maya turned in her seat. “Look down there. See the way everything works together? The wind and the seas keep moving and make life possible. The old die, and the new is born. Now imagine if we had the will of all those people working together to make life better for each and every one of us.”

“Are you like a commie?” Jonesy pushed himself away from Maya as if in disgust.

“No. Just like everyone caring for everyone else. If you could make someone else’s life better, just a little less painful, wouldn’t that make your life worth living?”

“Helping people to just sit around and do nothing? They gotta their part. They should make their own damned money.” 

“Not everyone has the same resources or wants the same thing out of life. If someone wants to be a guitarist but is never good enough, should they suffer for it?”

“Yeah. They should find a real job and pay their way.”

Sofia let go of my hand, but she leaned over to me, “People always believe they are right. I don’t know what it gets you. Nobody wins.”

“So what do you think? Is there a right way to live your life?”

“You just have to be happy with your contribution. Did you raise good kids? Did you make the world a little better? 

“So, I should just give away all my shit? The poor will be poor again in a month, but I’ll be poor too. What will that accomplish?”

“Mister Jones, is there anything that you would die for? Anything that would involve your suffering for the betterment of mankind?”

“Sure, I would take my own life if I could guarantee world peace. A paradise for everyone. But it won’t happen.”

“How about something smaller? Could you think of anything realistic?”

“I would do the same to guarantee that my wife and kids would have a wonderful life after I am gone.”

“Then do that, Jonesy. But why wait until you die? Why not give them a wonderful life now?”

Jonesy sat quietly and stared at the Earth floating above him. He looked ay Maya intently, “It’s that simple?”

“It can be. Have you ever read any of the moral philosopher Peter Singer?”

There was no answer. Things got quite up front as they gazed at the Earth. It sounded like Jonesy had found a new perspective. I hoped that I could find one, too. I did not feel right calling the seventy-year-old matriarch next to me “Sofia,” but I knew nothing else to call her.

“Sofia, how do you go on? Losing parents and kids, brothers and friends? Don’t it all seem rather pointless?”

“It can if you let it. There are some cultures in the world that believe that there is no you; there is no me. We are all just one stuff. All connected. That can help. But there is something even neater than that. We are made of the same stuff that everything in the universe is made out of.  But we are conscience. We are the universe witnessing itself.”

I sat in silence. What she had said was interesting but hardly Earth-shattering. I looked up at the Earth and remembered my Dad. My face contorted, and tears came welling up. A single tear rolled down my left cheek. My effort to control my crying had attracted Maya’s attention.

“Hey Kid, I’m sorry, but we’ve only called you Kid. I know that you miss your dad. We all only get a short time on this planet. That one right there.” She pointed up at the Earth. “Did your dad make your life better?”

“Oh, yes…” I started, but an ugly cry moved past my defenses. Sofi rubbed my shoulder as I wept for several minutes.

“That is all we can do,” Maya continued. “Make the world better for someone else, or many someones. Honor your dad in that way.”

The pilot’s voice came over the intercom, “We are beginning our departure. Make sure that you are strapped in tightly. Our heat shield willl be covering the observation windows. We’ll be back on the ground in two hours. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

With the heat shields in place, the cabin was dimly lit. The ride was bumpy on the way to the surface, but I thought that my dad probably would have judged his life a good one. I am sure that he frustrated high schoolers with his too-in-depth knowledge of chemistry and physics, but he was a caring teacher and a good dad. I closed my eyes and tried to remember just the happy times.