Because It's There?

Luz wondered, as she often did, why she was doing this. Over the years she’d come up with different “reasons,” but none of them felt true. Why was she out here? Why did Shackleton keep returning to Antarctica? Why did Hillary and Norgay risk everything to stand atop Everest? Why did Earhart attempt to fly around the globe?

She still didn’t know the answer, but she was certain that it was the same answer for all of them. Whether anyone else would embark on a twenty-one-year adventure, though, was up for debate. It didn’t help that Dr. Ondale had asked her the question just before she boarded. That ensured that it kept coming up in quiet moments.

As of nine years ago, Luz was the first human to do a fly-by of Uranus…and the fastest human in history, having reached a top speed of sixty-four and a half kilometers per second. So far, everything had gone closely enough to plan to be manageable.

Luz looked at the photo taped to the terminal opposite the camera and mirror. Her twenty-seven-year-old self, Dr. Ondale, and Custard, the toy poodle pup he’d just adopted. She pulled the picture free and held it next to the mirror.

Her previously golden-brown skin was now cadaverously pale, her once full cheeks sunken, her eyes darker. Her hair had gone mostly silver, with a few streaks of deep brown still trying to survive, and her single braid was long enough that, unless piled and pinned on her head, it floated into everything. It was, she guessed, nearly as long as she was tall.

She keyed her radio. “Solar Pebble to Mission Control. Completed slowdown slingshot around Mars. Approaching Earth for retrograde orbit and capture. Orbital insertion in nineteen days, sixteen hours, fifty-five minutes…mark. Current velocity, thirty-two point zero seven kilometers per second.”

A few minutes passed in silence before there was a response on the radio. “Mission Control. Roger, Solar Pebble. We have your telemetry from Mars Orbiter 11 and show you on optimal path. Looking forward to welcoming you home, Luz.”

“Thanks, Mission Control. I can’t wait to be back home.”

She wasn’t expecting a reply, but one came anyway. “Luz, this is Dr. Ondale. How are you doing?”

“Hey, Doc. I figured you’d be retired by now.” Luz sighed. “I’ve gone grey, but no wrinkles…so there’s that going for microgravity. Been working with the exercise bands two or three times a day…it gets boring out here. I’m uh, guessing I’ve lost most of my bone density and muscle, along with any spare weight I might have had. I’m really tired of the food packets and recycled water. The three things I miss the most are bread, wine, and the sun…not always in that order. Other than that, everything’s perfect.”

Luz realized, while sending the last message, that she hadn’t eaten in more than fifteen hours. She pulled out another one of the dreaded food packs and looked at the printing. Ugh, she thought, lasagna again.

It wasn’t that it tasted bad, although the texture was strange, but she would’ve given anything for a piece of crusty bread with butter and a nice glass of red. She wasn’t sure she remembered what bread or wine tasted like after twenty-one years, but she knew she loved it.

Bread was just one of the many foods that she couldn’t bring along. Not due to weight restrictions or anything of the sort, but because the crumbs could get into the electronics and cause serious damage.

She realized that she’d eaten the entire serving of “lasagna” while thinking about bread and hadn’t even noticed the taste or the odd texture. Luz chuckled to herself. Twenty-one years, and now I figure out the trick to dealing with the “space food”…think about something else.

As the days dragged on, the conversational lag got shorter and shorter, until she finally reached Earth orbit and was able to talk to Mission Control with less than a second of lag. The tiny windows of the ship had darkened and failed to clear up when she made the slingshot around Venus. One of those “manageable” things. The external camera worked, though it was often oriented in the wrong direction.

Like the windows, Luz had always darkened in the sun without fail. As pale as she currently was, she wondered if she would burn instead. She looked at the sun on the screen, currently the only thing visible due to the camera’s orientation. She knew the Earth was right there and a high-orbit lander should be approaching to make contact and slow her down, but it was hidden from her.

The radio chatter as the lander moved in position to capture when her elliptical orbit was at its aphelion kept her from thinking too hard about anything else. “Capture One, Solar Pebble. I have you on instruments. Maneuver to docking position complete.”

“Roger, Solar Pebble. Ten seconds to capture.”

The jolt was lighter than Luz had expected but the sound of the capture vehicle docking rang through the hull. The last time the hull had rung like that was when she impacted a small piece of ice twelve years back. It had startled her so much she’d jumped…not a good idea in microgravity. Her hand brushed over the scar on her forehead where she’d impacted the edge of the console.

The airlock alarm buzzed, pulling her back into the moment. She tucked the photo into the small bag of personal items she’d brought along and waited to leave the ship for the first time in what felt like forever.

The airlock opened, and a wave of sweet-smelling air washed over her. Oof, she thought, the air in here must smell foul. “Apologies to your noses,” she said, before she realized that the two figures waiting for her were in full hazard suits.

“Sorry about the suits,” the taller of the two said, “but we’ll need you to put one on and go through decon. Twenty-one years is a long time for bacteria and viruses to evolve.”

“Right,” Luz said, “makes sense.” She put on the suit with an ease borne of two decades of floating and waited while the decontamination cycle ran.

They led her into the main passenger area where a couch was prepared and waiting. The taller one removed her hazard suit and shook her hair free to float around her face like a blonde halo. “You probably wouldn’t be able to handle re-entry and landing in a seated position,” she said, “so we’ve got you set up here. Dr. Ondale is waiting on the ground for you. Welcome home.”

“Thanks,” Luz said, as she let herself be strapped into the couch. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I spent twenty-one years in the Pebble, and I still don’t know why.”

There was a slight shudder in the lander as they disconnected from the Solar Pebble and dropped it into a parking orbit. Luz closed her eyes as the first re-entry burn began. Each burn, each deceleration, was harder than the one before, until she felt the lander begin to shake in the atmosphere.

She tried to slow her breathing, control her heart rate. When the lander had slowed enough to be flying rather than hurtling through the atmosphere, she felt the pull of gravity. She could raise her head if she tried hard enough. It was easier to raise her hands, though she didn’t remember it ever being so difficult.

Once they touched down and rolled to a stop, there was a minor commotion in the cabin, until a gurney was wheeled in and she was transferred to it from the couch. As they rolled her down the ramp, the sun blinded her and she squeezed her eyes shut until they could adjust.

“Oh, we’ll get you inside as soon as we can,” a familiar voice said.

Shielding her eyes with a shaky hand, Luz looked over to see Dr. Ondale, followed by a grizzled poodle. “No hurry, Doc. Is that…?”

“Yes, that’s Custard. She’s a bit older now, like all of us, but she’s still here. He turned to the person pushing the gurney. “We need to get her out of the sun.”

“No, no,” she said. “I haven’t seen the sun or felt it like this in so long, I’d like to enjoy it a bit if that’s okay.”

“Did you ever figure out why?” he asked.

“No, Doc, I didn’t. Your guess is as good as mine.”