Adrilles 1c

It took almost a decade for humanity to coax the first tentative tendrils of green out of Mars’ surface. After that, many more years of constant care and monitoring, dozens of spaceships launched to experiment, water and feed this plant so far from anything familiar. Its roots found purchase in the red ashy soil, its leaves drank in the dry ambient light of LEDs overhead. That was the first step into life making it to other planets, and the one I was taking now was going to be my last, I was sure.

All it took to get me on a ship to Adrilles was intense apathy and a biosignature: a promise to make something of my currently lacking life. There were many brighter stars to choose from already employed at NASA: Victoria McCarthy, enthusiastic and excitable worker, with straight-A grades in every subject and a relentless pursuit of her goals. Ernie Watts, a quiet, dedicated man, often found with his back in an unhealthy slouch, bent over a book. Emily Fraser, ambitious to the extreme, determined rule-follower who always had her smiling eyes on the public as they met her gaze with admiration. None of NASA’s astronauts were willing to risk (or, more accurately, sacrifice) their lives to rot on a mission to an exoplanet two light years away, to throw away what remained of their career.

The space company then turned to the public, phrasing the question far more agreeably: Who would be willing to undertake a training program here at NASA to be sent on a mission to planet 1e45, or Adrilles? And then - Warning: there is a high probability that fatalities may occur. Be ready to give up your lives for the pursuit of knowledge for all of humanity. They screened and interviewed the thousands that remained, then picked at random. Years of training later, three decades after the groundbreaking success of plant life on Mars, they had assembled a patchwork crew: Andrei Watts, former electrician, Lyla Miller, yours truly, former engineer, Ruby Barnes, former artist, and Ivan Woods, former lawyer, who now were about to launch off to unknown territory. We were still unsure, indecisive, but what had led me to this moment wasn’t to be denied. 

I’d struggled through higher education into an unforgiving industry and life, and typed into my name on a form to give my life away to the greater good. At no moment in my training did I ever rethink the decision, my family never urged me to stay, instead shrouding their faces with resignation. You’ve always been stubborn. NASA knew that we might change our minds and squirrelled us away to their center, with lodging, comfort and food, like a hastily written apology. That first night in the bunk beds, whispering in the dark like children about to be caught out after curfew, we’d formed a tenuous bond over how we’d found ourselves among the academics at a world famous, space-exploring company. Still, the uncertainty manifesting itself in my stomach was disquieting. Choking, even, vines wrapping themselves around my throat and wringing me out from the inside. What I saw now were white fluorescent lights, blue markings, orange suits and the pale faces of my fellows. Ruby had her eyes tightly shut, however unsafe it might have been; Andrei was stone-faced, gripping the bar tightly; Ivan repeatedly making his way through every safety check, seemingly muttering under his breath. I looked composed, or at least I thought I did. This was just any other practice run of how we would do it on the day, a simulation, a performance I had rehearsed many times. I’d been running through it in my mind, too, while in quarantine before launch. We were strapped in, ready to go. 10 minutes, flying past, stretching into- 

10 seconds. 

10

No - I can feel the doubts bubbling, writhing up and- 

9

Time to accept it, I have to go-

8

It’s fine, it’s be fine, we’re cleared-

7

I’ll live, leave the wild-eyed fear behind-

6

I can feel the rumble of the engine beneath me, the power unfurling, the fuel lighting-

5 

We’re still locked down, trapped-

4

All I can hear is the roaring-

3

We’re going, going-

2

No more choice in the matter.

1

We’re off.

 It was mandated by law that we had to stay conscious until we were past anything vaguely Earth, and now I hate that law. There was nothing I wished for more in that moment than to be wrenched out of this state of worry and claustrophobia, unable to fall or fly. 10 minutes more of this I was obligated to suffer, unable to embrace the possibility of death on a suicide journey. Fretting while I could do nothing but look out of the window at a rapidly shrinking blue dot, everything I could see was a reminder that I was going. Everything I could feel, the sensation of the sharply accelerating spaceship itself, a reminder. The vibrations of the machines, the blinking red light on the corner of the screen - a sudden sickening sensation in my gut. Ten minutes traversing the endless black, silence pressing in on all sides. Eventually, it fell into a rhythm, even the instinctive jolts of adrenaline and fear meant to be keeping me on my toes slipping away, fading into some state of emotional and physical exhaustion, as if my ascent, every metre of space put between me and earth drained my reserves, left me as a being hollowed out by apathy, drowned with unfamiliarity. I ignored the syringe as it slowly lowered, making small mechanical clicks and groans. From here, it was five years of nothing, until we arrived.

A red glow awoke me, creeping up the sides of the room we were in, shifting to hues of orange and yellow. 

“Congratulations, you have arrived. Please prepare for landing.” 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? In a strange, alien way…” Ivan mused as we stepped out onto the ashy ground. Everything here was different. The purple hue creeping into the sky, the beginning of a shoreline curling in a half-crescent around thick tresses of muddy green and yellow matter, the streaks of displaced dirt radiating from craters and dark splotches of clouds hanging still on their lavender background. 

“It’s unnerving.” I want to go home, I almost said. Back to the usual nothing. Ivan stopped and turned, fabric of his spacesuit crackling as he moved. His expression was indecipherable under the dome of shining black glass, but I could feel the sincerity in the way he held himself. 

“We’re here now, aren’t we? We’ve got to learn to appreciate what’s here, why we’re here, and the efforts of everyone it took to get us here, or this’ll all be for nothing.” The radio delivered his words slightly distorted, but the meaning was clear. I sighed and pretended to study the landscape more thoroughly. My heart rate was steadily climbing now, and I couldn’t banish thoughts of Earth from my mind. I wasn’t supposed to miss a place that had never been home.