ROCKETMAN

As I stared down at the ink shaped into the form of letters, my breath became shallow and I had to put in extra effort to get air into my lungs. The letter began to shake in my hands as beads of sweat formed across my forehead. The letter informed me that I’d been chosen to join others already resident at the Moon Habitation to test the long-term effects living in space had on the human body.

I should never have joined the Ministry of Space Affairs.

Initially, our job at the Department of Human Life in Space had been the search for life in space, but our mandate gradually devolved to developing suitable conditions in space for human life. All of a sudden, a department that had struggled to make do with the limited budget made available by the government was inundated with cash from powerful foundations and the global elite. They were largely responsible for air-filters becoming a fashion staple around the world, so seeking a new home was music to their ears.

With unlimited supplies of cash, it only took us a few years to set up the human habitation on the Moon. It was a big bubble at the top of the Moon which produced and circulated its own oxygen. The bubble was made possible through a collaboration between the best engineers and scientists money could buy. Emboldened by the oxygen production feat, the team turned their attention to recreating gravity, and they achieved it just a few months before I received the letter from the Ministry. I was being sent as a fresh test subject for the gravity system. The letter said I would return to earth after 3 years for tests and observation.

The grand achievements of the Ministry had created a space fad. Everywhere one turned, there were monuments, images, and even music celebrating our space program. We had buildings shaped like space stations and rockets; we had restaurants with interiors designed to look and feel like the Moon Habitation; we had numerous space-themed parks with all sorts of rides and games built to celebrate and show off our achievements in space; and we had endless movies with stories that revolved around space, just to mention a few.

I’d never been very particular about space travel. I didn’t grow up with posters of spaceships, Sci-Fi comics, and dreams of Mars. I grew up on my family’s ranch in the suburbs, caring for animals and producing what I would eat, and I loved it. That was what I knew and that was what I loved. I was more concerned with returning to the time when I could step outside my house without needing a mask to filter the air from the contaminated fog that enveloped the world than I was with going to the Moon.

The letter made me hyper-vigilant. I’d had multiple sleepless nights since I received it, and the few times I slept, I always woke up in horror at what I’d seen in my dreams. They were largely centered on the rumors flying around the Ministry about the Moon Habitation. Although many of the stories had yet to be backed with facts, they was too much evidence to dismiss them.

Living on the Moon Habitation had had damaging effects on the astronauts who’d been there from the beginning. The stories were centered on how the few astronauts who returned to earth for tests and observation failed to function properly upon their return. There were rumors at the Ministry that despite spending months back on earth, and despite millions invested in their rehabilitation, they’d been unable to walk, breathe properly, and they had to be kept on life support because internal organs, like the heart and liver, failed.

Rumor had it that they had to be placed in a contained space that mimicked the conditions in the Moon Habitation before they recovered some of their body functions. Their return was kept secret, and so were the reports generated from the tests and the observation. When it came time to return them to space, it was done under the cover of night. Our superiors gave a majority of staff at the Ministry a few day off – a first in many years – to get us out of the way. According to reports, they died a few days after arriving in space, along with a few others who’d also fallen gravely ill.

The fact that they’d been sent back in secrecy and that the reports had been kept under lock and key – even from my team which closely monitored the mechanical functions of the habitation – made it clear beyond doubt that the rumors were true. My opinion was further reinforced when, a few weeks later, the construction of a spaceship to transport some global elites to the Moon Habitation for vacation was suddenly scrapped mid-way through without explanation. I was even more confident of my opinion when my team was ordered to suspend, indefinitely, the design and construction of the extension to the Moon Habitation that would house the elites while they were on vacation.

Something fishy was going on, and I wasn’t interested in being a lab rat for the Ministry.

With the new turn of events, my workload reduced drastically. For the first time in years, members of my department were told to take “well-deserved” leaves-of-absence. I saw a window of opportunity and I grabbed it. 

***

My parents were long gone, so I decided the ranch – which hadn’t been used in years – was the best place to hide. It was off-grid, there was no mobile connection, and I bore a different surname from that of my parents, so no one would be able to track me there.

I filled up the hurricane bunker with enough supplies to last a month, and then I locked myself inside it. The bunker was hidden amidst undergrowth and trees about a kilometer away from the house, its location was enough reason to feel safe. I was to leave for the Moon Habitation in four days, all I had to do was stay in the bunker for a few more days than that then I could return to the surface. By then they would have found someone else to take my place.

Better to have no job than have no life.

***

Three days passed in the blink of eye. On the evening of the fourth day, I’d just begun to drift into sleep when I heard a noise from the surface. It cleared the sleep from my eyes and I sat bolt upright. The ranch was usually gravely silent, nothing ever happened in this part of the country, and even if it did, the ranch was too big for any noise to reach me. 

This noise was very close, and it sounded like the rotors of a helicopter. If it was indeed a helicopter, it was hovering over the ranch. 

My hands began to tremble and my legs shook visibly. My throat dried up and I found it hard to swallow. Despite the cool temperature of the bunker, my clothes began to soak with sweat.

I heard a loud thud. Whatever it was, it had just landed a few meters from the bunker. The sound of the rotors diminished, signaling that the helicopter had come to a stop. With the sound of the rotors out of the way, other sounds reached me from the surface. I listened keenly and concluded that they were the sound of people in boots running around.

They found me.

I looked around the bunker for a weapon, the only thing available was a baseball bat. I picked it up and returned to monitoring the sounds from the surface.

I’d hoped they were there to search the ranch, but my hopes were quickly dashed. I’d given them too little credit. The boots approached the bunker and surrounded it. I heard some muffled sounds, but I didn’t wait to decipher what they were saying, I rushed up the stairs leading to the doorway and checked the lock on the door. It was firm.

Someone tried to unlock the door just after I tightened it, but the door stayed put. As I stared up at the doorway, I hoped that would be enough reason for them to leave me alone. Maybe they would conclude that the door didn’t open because it hadn’t been put to use in a very long time. I saw a glimmer of hope when I heard the boots stomp away from the bunker. I heard some raised voices and then the rotors came back to life.

The sound of the rotors diminished as the helicopter flew off into the distance. I heaved a sigh of relief and I quickly regained full control of my hands and legs.

I’d just turned to return the bat to its place when a loud explosion came from the doorway. The force of the explosion threw me into the wall and the last thing I saw was dark smoke circulating around the room.

***

“Earth to Rocket 16, Earth to Rocket 16. Are you there?” came a female voice over the loudspeaker.

I opened my eyes slowly and took in my surroundings. I was surrounded by computer screens and hundreds of buttons. When I felt the thrust of engines pushing me forward, realization dawned on me. I scurried to the round window to my left and stared into a dark nothingness. When I dashed to the window to my right, my suspicion was confirmed. I saw the earth beckoning on me as the rocket carried me further into space.

“No! No, no, no, no, no!! Where am I? Why am I here?!” I shouted.

Memories of the events that occurred before I passed out returned with full force as I stared back at the earth. I’d lost the battle. The government wanted me in space, and they had me on my way there.

“Why are you screaming, sir?” 

“I don’t want to be here! Why did you bring me here?! I don’t want anything to do with the Moon Habitation!”

“He’s at it again, ma’am.” The lady on the loudspeaker said to someone beside her.

There was a short stretch of silence before another lady said, “Are we going to go through this again, Mr. Andrew?” she sounded frustrated.

“You took me to space without my permission! I demand to be taken back! I want out of here!” I retorted as forcefully as I could whilst trying to undo the seatbelt. I had to get out of there somehow. I didn’t know what to do or how I would do it, but I knew I had to get myself back to earth. The rumors were true, the Moon Habitation was unsafe. If the global elites wanted nothing to do with it, neither did I. 

“Mr. Andrew, I agree with you. There is no reason why you should be in the rocket, especially since you say you don’t want to. You must exit the rocket immediately.”

“Exit? Exit the rocket?!” I couldn’t understand her. What was this? A mission to the Moon Habitation or a suicide mission?

It was then I noticed I wasn’t wearing a space suit. I gasped, shocked that they would send me to space in my plain clothes. I raised my hands to the level of my face and as my bare skin stared back at me, I felt my heartbeat quicken to abnormal levels. 

Why would they do this to me? What did I do to deserve to be experimented with in this manner? 

I breathed in deeply and was relieved to find air streaming into my nostrils. 

“Mr. Andrew, you either exit the rocket of your own volition, or I will come there and get you out of it myself. The simulator is public property and every customer has a right to use it. We will not let you get in the way of our other customers’ enjoyment of their time in the park.”

“Simulator?” I grunted. “Park?” What did she mean?

A flicker of light in the window to my right drew my attention and I turned to it just in time to see the image of the distant earth dissolve into another image. I recognized the image that replaced it, and as I stared at it, I realized where I actually was and what the ladies over the loudspeaker meant.

As I moved closer to the window, I scanned the space-themed park I was visiting with my children that afternoon. It was one of the numerous space-themed parks with all sorts of rides and games built to celebrate and show off our achievements in space.