Rocket Man

Terry accepted the warm cup, then paid with an altcoin. Coffee wasn’t in his budget but a little taste of home was a priceless commodity.

He took a seat at an open nook which happened to have a window view. The outside world was bathed in a faint, white glow, reminding him once again that he was alone, stranded in a lifeless desert that extended beyond the horizon. He felt his blood pressure rise and took a calming breath. This had been his choice and he would live with it.

The window wasn’t real. A realization that made the situation even worse. It was merely a 4K projection of the outside world behind a meter of lunar soil. His imagination failed him as he attempted to peer through the glass rather than into it.

Terry held the cup beneath his nose then, closing his eyes, allowed the subtle blueberry-scone vapor to envelop him.

He was suddenly back home. Hallie was there, corralling the kids into the tiny hall adjacent to the front door of their home. It was time to take the kids to school and pandemonium ensued in the cramped hallway—everyone simultaneously trying to put on their shoes and make sure they had their backpack or briefcase. Hallie cursed. She had left her coffee on the counter, as she always did, while clinging onto a squirming Anne—their youngest—who was ‘NOT GOING’ today. Terry grabbed Hallie’s coffee from the counter and took a sip before handing it to her. It was Wild Mountain Blueberry, her favorite. He kissed her frown before they headed out, with a promise to be home early. Yes, he would work on the bathroom trim today.

A soft thud sounded in the distance.

Terry glanced at one of the nooks across the room to see a customer picking up a spilled coffee. No one else seemed to notice, except for the manager who hurried over with a mop, and even offered the man a complimentary iced latte. Everyone else in the shop was on their phone or laptop. Several people had even put on their VR headsets while they waited for the train.

Maybe he needed to relax more. Perhaps this business trip could even be serene. If only he could forget that he was a quarter-million miles from home—and trapped in a giant oxygen chamber with a crowd of strangers. At least the coffee here was delicious and had provided a splash of color to an otherwise monochrome trek.

But it was still too quiet here. Unnaturally so. It seemed as if every element on this satellite were sticking to a rigid design theme best characterized as ‘In-A-Vacuum.’

There were a dozen tables in this shop, and nearly that many customers, but barely a whisper sounded. It wasn’t just this shop though; the entire train station was subdued. Even the Orion Express, which was a maglev, was designed to be nearly inaudible to its passengers.

Perhaps he was the only one that noticed, or really cared. Everyone in the colonies wore earbuds or headsets around the clock, staying connected to Earth via podcasts and social media. Many of his co-workers stationed at the lunar colonies seemed to feel just as socially connected as they had on Earth, but Terry sorely missed the organic interaction and chaos of home.

Taking out his phone, Terry absently double checked the train’s departure time, then his clock. Another half hour... Then another six months. One-hundred and eighty-nine days to be exact. It felt like a lifetime ago when Hallie and the kids had seen him off, and his consultation project hadn’t even begun. His new job started in Montes Rook, and he still had quite a way to go. The Orion Express terminated four hundred miles from the job site, and he would have to take a rover the rest of the way.

Terry put in his earbuds and began to listen to a classic 70s mix as he sipped his coffee. He smiled as Elton John began to sing about the loneliness of space and couldn’t help but agree. ‘Rocket Man.’ That’s what Hallie had jokingly called him when he’d first told her about this project and that it would pay off their mortgage.

Terry finished his venti with a large gulp, then he tossed his empty in a nearby bin before stepping back into the central station.

It was only 9 o’clock; Hallie would still be up. He’d give her a call before heading out.

Hallie didn’t answer.

He called again. She wasn’t picking up. Was everything alright? She was a heavy sleeper. No. Airplane mode? No, he’d gotten her to stop that. Maybe—

“Hel-Hello?” A muffled voice answered.

Relief washed over Terry. It was Hallie’s voice. “Honey, everything alright?” he asked.

“Huh? Yeah, everything’s fine,” Hallie answered. “Why are you calling so early?”

Early? It was just after 9PM… Shit! “What time is it there?”

“It’s… 2 in the morning here,” Hallie said.

Terry massaged his temples. He and Hallie should be operating on the same time. It was 9PM here in Grimaldi Station, LTC-5 time zone. Hallie was in the Central Standard Time Zone, UTC-5. Thank you, NASA. Their idea of synching the lunar prime meridian with Houston time was inspired, and not at all difficult for moon travelers to follow. He shook his head, knowing that he should have merely checked the current Central Standard time on Earth before calling. He would remember that.

“It's nothing, Honey. Go back to sleep,” Terry said.

“K,” Hallie said in a groggy voice. “Love you…”

She was gone. “Love you too,” Terry mumbled.

Terry took his seat on the Orion Express and settled in for the penultimate leg of his journey. The maglev departed Grimaldi Station and flew silently across the cold desert. How long would it be before he could return? A hundred and eighty-nine days was the plan, but what project had ever gone according to plan? He wasn’t made for this kind of life. He was no Christopher Columbus or Marco Polo, only a desperate debtor. This was just a job, ideally limited to five days a week. Terry closed his eyes and imagined himself back home with Hallie and the kids, living in a house that was paid for.