Mission Zavier

You stand just on the inside of the door, your sister behind you. You’re about to leave on the trip of your life. But it’s not just your life. The lives of nine others, as well.

You call to your sister. “Bye, Eliza! I wish you could come with me!”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. You’re going to be late! Go!” Eliza shooes you over the threshold of your house. “I love you, don’t forget. We’ll miss you. . .come back soon.” she trails off, her eyes watering.

“Love you too, Eliza.” You wrap your sister in a hug.

A tear rolls down her cheek, onto your shoulder. “Go save him,” she whispers. 

“I will.” You hold back your tears.

You hold her tight for one more second before letting go. You pick up your suitcase and walk to the car. As you drive towards the station, your thoughts drift to all the people you’re leaving behind for this- Eliza, your sister, the one you’re closest to; Ashanti, best friend of both you and Eliza; Clay, your neighbor, the one who gave you the confidence you needed to go on this trip; and so many more.

One person is the most important of all. Tears you held back earlier stream down your face for him. Your brother. He was an astronaut. After a supposedly successful mission, he didn’t come back, but you’re going to save him. Hopefully, he’s where you’re going. He has to be. He’s got to be.

Your thoughts drift to the trip itself. The trip! It’s not so much of a trip. . .more like a mission. Yes, that’s it. A mission. Instead of a “trip to help out some people,” I’ll think of it like a. . .a “mission to save the world!” You laugh.

A few minutes later, you pull into a parking spot. You grab your bag, and walk up to the station.

It isn’t just any station. It’s a space station. And you’re not just going on any old shuttle. You’re going on the Zavier U.S.!

As you walk into the station, you see a little sign up ahead that’s probably used for tours. That’s weird. . . As far as you know, there aren’t any tours at the space station. At least, there haven’t been any since the new head of space travel mysteriously took over.

The sign has a little picture of the Zavier U.S.. It shows its interior and has a description. “Zavier U.S. is a super elite, special shuttle, designed specifically for quick space travel and rescue missions. It was built by the ISAATC (International Space and Air Travel Corporation) with special extra sleeping quarters for those being rescued.” From the picture, the shuttle seems to have taken the minimalist style to the extreme, with a dark, matte interior and a lighter exterior. The color scheme seems to resonate with the rest of the station, which is blinding white with darkly tinted windows the walls them every now and then, with black floors on the inside.

“You there!” A voice calls. You turn, wondering if the voice is talking to you. “Yes, you. Are you one of the voyagers going on Zavier U.S.?” A man walks toward you. His name tag tells you who he is: Jeff Bazos, Head of Space Travel.

“Yes, I am.” This is the mysterious new head. . . 

“Come with me, please.” Jeff Bazos walks swiftly away.

You jog after him. His strides are long. He seems strict, and you know better than to ask where you are headed.

“We need to hurry. The astronauts only have about three to five hours left before they’re out of oxygen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeff Bazos halts suddenly, and you slam into his shoulder. “Sorry, sir.”

“It’s alright. Go stand over there, please. The other voyagers are there too.” He points to a little group of three people off to the side. There is a larger group of professional-looking people with name tags close to where you stand.

You walk over. “Oh, hey!” One of them calls. “Are you a voyager too? I’m Jack. That’s David, and that girl right there is Ashley. What’s your name?”

You introduce yourself. Before you can say anything else, Jeff speaks up. He clears his throat loudly, and everyone falls silent. Clearly, Bazos is an important man.

“Hello, everyone. Today we are here to see off the voyagers on the Zavier U.S.. Their mission - referred to as ‘Mission Zavier’- is to rescue five astronauts found floating in the void. For anyone unaware, they floated into our radar a few days ago. We radioed them, and their oxygen levels are very low. We are not sure exactly who they are or how they got there. They claim to be astronauts from a mission we sent off a while back, even though that mission was recorded as a success. If they are who they say they are, this is not just a ‘little jaunt into space.’ This is a rescue mission.” There is a glint in Jeff’s eye.

You laugh. The words resonate with your thoughts in the car from earlier. Your little dub of “rescue mission” seems to have aged like fine wine. 

“Excuse me, sir! Is your name. . .” Jack squints to read the name tag. “Jeff. . .Bazos? Isn’t that the name of-” David tries to hold in a laugh.

“That is my name, yes. Nobody else I’ve ever heard of has my name.”

“But there’s this one man- I think you may have heard of him, just maybe- his name is Jeff Bezos, with an ‘e.’”

“His name is very similar to mine, but it is not the same name, young man. Does this ‘a’ look like an ‘e’ to you? You pronounce them differently, too. Bazos versus Bezos. It’s completely different! Now-”

Jack turns to you and whispers, “they sound the same to me.” He laughs.

Jeff Bazos continues his spiel for a few more minutes. He gives the crowd of professional-looking people some details about the trip, which is a part of ISAATC’s Space Travel Experimental Volunteer Program. Finally, he closes his speech. “And now. . .thank you to our four brave volunteers, who signed up for Mission Zavier. and the pilot, who. .  did not.” He nods. “You may enter the Zavier U.S.!”

He gestures grandly to the shuttle.

You, along with David, Ashley, and Jack, plus the pilot, enter the shuttle. It is nice, but clearly only for quick trips. The pilot turns around. “Listen, kids. I didn’t pay attention to Jeff’s preliminary speech, but I know what it’s like in space. You are probably unqualified, and unprepared. Vastly. But please, keep your heads on. We have a mission to accomplish. This could be my one chance to actually be a useful pilot. I want to succeed, with no casualties. It’s dangerous, and I don’t want any of you to die. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh,” the four of you agree.

“Alright. We take off in two minutes. I recommend you get these space suits on, quickly, and then get into these seats.” He points to a pile. You grab the top one and put it on. You feel like the Michelin Man. “Helmets on!” The pilot yells from the front, where he’s already suited up.

A voice comes over the radio. “T-minus 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. . .blast off.” 

You almost start singing the Little Einsteins theme song.

Jack looks terrified. Ashley’s eyes are closed. David is also relatively scared, but not as much as Jack. You wonder why they’re on this mission. For you, it’s personal. You have to save your brother. But for them. . .?

Time passes. To you, it seems indefinite. But it harbors space for thoughts (Am I really in space? Yes. Did I know-),which are interrupted by an announcement.

“Attention. . .you can now move about the shuttle. Carefully. Very. Carefully.” It’s Jeff Bazos’ garbled voice. “Please be careful. This shuttle is new, and I don’t want-”

“Jeff, please!” The pilot yells. “Over,” he adds as an afterthought.

The radio falls silent.

You get up and walk over to one of the little windows. Space is amazing. It’s an endless entanglement of beauty. Standing there, you finish your thought from earlier. Did I know what I was signing up for? No. But not because it’s dangerous. Because it’s so breathtakingly and unexpectedly beautiful. Sure, you’ve seen pictures on google, but are pictures really the same as seeing it in person? No. A picture of a crystal clear stream with a mossy, cascading waterfall can in no way sum up the beauty of actually hearing the water, seeing it with your own eyes. It is the same with the nebulas, the stars, the planets, everything.

It is silent in space. Beautifully silent.

Nobody dares to break it.

The shuttle flies on. . .

And on. . .

And on. . .

Until-

“You four!” The pilot is the first one in about an hour to cut the tranquility in half. “There’s something on the radar. It’s not one of ISAATC’s shuttles. . .it might be what we’re looking for.”

The Zavier U.S. flies towards the object, and as it gets closer, you can see it better. It resembles a shuttle, crudely patched together, but still stable. It’s not a conventional model. Definitely not one of ISAATC’s more popular, more successful ones. The Zavier U.S. gets closer.

The window you’re looking out of is directly across from a window on the foreign shuttle. You try to see inside, but it’s dark. As you’re squinting through first the helmet, then the meters of space between the shuttles, then through the dark other window, something appears. 

BAM! 

A hand smashes against the glass. A person pulls themself into your field of vision. They are not wearing a spacesuit. You had not gotten around to taking yours off, as up until recently you had been staring into space, quite literally.

“Guys! Come here; there’s a person in the shuttle! I think this is it!” You call.

“Mission control, we found them. Over.”

“Zavier U.S., anchor to the ship and get them on. Over.”

“Roger that. Over.” The radio clicks off. “Alright, buttercups. Toughen up. It’s time to go into space. David, put your suit back on. We’re going to anchor the ships at the door, then get the survivors on. We leave the other shuttle here, and anyone left on it after ten minutes. Bazos’ orders. This is a rescue mission. The less time in space, the better. Get ‘em on, get out.”

All of you nod at the pilot. “What, too scared to talk?” The pilot laughs. He’s rather condescending.

Once all space suits are on, the pilot maneuvers the Zavier U.S. to the other shuttle’s port. “Alright. Jack, go open the door. Make sure your helmet is secure.”

“Yes, sir!”

“The rest of you, wait here.”

A minute later, Jack comes back. “Done. It’s all in place- nice and lined up- too. Good job, pilot man.”

The pilot scoffs. “I didn’t get this job for nothing,” he mutters. 

You glance at him. You don’t really like the pilot.

“Alright. Let’s go. You there, quiet one.” He turns to Ashley. “You seem like the type to faint at the sight of blood. Are you okay with going first onto the foreign ship? I have to stay back here to pilot.” He doesn’t give her time to respond. “Okay. She’ll go first, then the rest of you. Get anyone alive on the ship as fast as humanly possible.”

Ashley nods, her large helmet bobbing up and down. She steps into the other shuttle. You follow her, and Jack and David follow you.

The neighboring shuttle is run-down. It seems dingy, with people’s clothes thrown everywhere. You walk farther in, turning down the path not taken by any of the others. You need to look everywhere for survivors.

You find the one that you saw through the window, and help him back into the ship, where Jack is waiting with another survivor. He says he’s been tasked by the pilot to help any survivors into the sleeping quarters, and to nurse them a little. You give the astronaut into Jack’s care, and go back into the opposite shuttle.

You take a different path this time. Now you’re looking for your brother. He won’t be wearing a spacesuit, most likely, but you are. He won’t recognize you for anything except the Michelin Man.

You walk into a room and suck in a precious breath. One of the five astronauts on the shuttle is in the room, but he’s not moving. He is draped over a bag in the corner, as if. . .

You walk towards him. There’s no doubt about it. He’s dead. You turn him over, to get him off the bag. A paper lies on top, with messy scribbles. You skim the paper. 

Space, space. . .blah, blah. . .

Ah. 

You stop skimming and go back up to the thing that caught your eye. 

Jeff Bazos rise to power- assassin? Where is old head of space travel? 

An entry in a different pen reads: Jeff is plotting. We must stop him. He stopped tours. Is sending young adults into space as part of a “program.” will not hesitate to leave them behind.

You have just discovered very important information. You put it in your spacesuit. You’ll show it to the pilot later.

Just as you turn away from the body, something shiny catches your eye. It’s a picture frame. In it is, obviously, a picture, but the picture looks very familiar. You gasp, and your eyes water.

The picture is of you, Eliza, and your brother, Sam. Which means. . .

“Sam!” You fall over the body. You take off your helmet. Staring at it through blurry tears, it is obviously Sam’s body. How did I not see it before? His cheekbones are showing, and you can see his ribs through his shirt.

His shirt. . .

It is his favorite. Was.

You sink to your knees beside his body. The one reason I signed up for this, the one promise I made, the one. . . you dissolve into another bout of sobs. Eliza, I’m so sorry.

“Hey!” A voice startles you. “We got everyone. What are you. . .” David trails off. “Oh. Did you know him?”

“My. . .my brother,” you choke out.

“I’m sorry. . . But really, we have to go. Now. Pilot man said he’s leaving in two minutes.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a second.”

“He said to come now or. . .he’ll leave you here.” David shakes his head. “What’s wrong with him? He said that in his pep talk earlier too. Bet he doesn’t mean it. Come on.” He turns around, gesturing.

He doesn’t look back.

You stay right where you are. I’ll go in a minute. I will. I’ll leave Sam here. I will. I have to. 

And you do.

You get up, breaking away. You retrace your steps to the port. Rather, you try to retrace your steps.

You get hopelessly lost. You know somewhere in your head that it’s been more than two minutes, but you just want one more glimpse of Sam.

You stumble back into the room with his body, and slump in the corner. You hear a loud clang, and a roar. Then everything is silent. You get up and look out the window.

The shuttle- Zavier U.S.- they’re. . .

They’re gone.

They left me.

The pilot did it.

The useless paperclip really left me here.

The gravity of what just happened sank in. You defied the orders of the pilot and stayed on the ship with a dead body. I’m stuck here. I hope. . .I hope the pilot gets what he deserves for leaving someone in space. I hope Jeff Bazos deals with him. Bazos! NO! The paper! They won’t know that Bazos is a mastermind!

All problems except that of Sam’s paper flee your mind. Sam most likely risked his life for this information. That’s the most important thing on your mind for about five minutes, which is when the other problems resurface.

You’re stuck in space with nobody except your dead brother. Nobody but you knows that Jeff Bazos is plotting against ISAATC. The ship is broken. The only oxygen left is good for about one to two hours. Maybe more, since there’s only one person breathing it now. 

You start to make a game plan, but then you stagger to the wall. You just remembered all the people you left behind. . .for good. Ashanti, Clay, and. . .Eliza. Eliza. No! She was depending on you. Depending on you to save your brother, and to come back and be there for her. But now. . .you broke your promise. Eliza lost not one, but two siblings today.

Eliza, I’m so. . .so. . .sorry. 

You sit there, against the wall, across from Sam’s body, that one thought echoing over and over until the end.