Do You Dream of Terra-Two?

‘Before we finish eating, I’d just like to say a few words.’ Solomon stood up, and his large body cast a shadow across the table. Everyone put down their forks and waited. ‘These past few months were some of the most trying of my life. I know they must have been for you too. I can tell you this now…’ he looked down for a moment. ‘We lost someone we love on Saturday, and, for a while after, I wasn’t sure I would make it up here at all. Ara’s death is something I know it will be difficult for us to recover from.’ He paused again, swallowing. Harry watched the bubbles in his cup surge to the surface. ‘I’ve been involved in this programme since its conception. I still remember the day I saw a couple of you walking through the school gates at age thirteen, and every time I think about it I remember how far you’ve come. Watching you all at the launch site, waving at the crowd, taking it all in your stride, I realized that you’ve not only become fine astronauts. You’ve become fine adults. This morning, I have to say… I was proud.

‘It’s an honour to be your commander. It’s an honour to be part of this mission. You know, in Greek, the word Damocles means “the glory of the people”, and that’s what this mission will be for our country, insh’Allah.’ He held his cup higher above his head and said, ‘To Britain! To all of Earth!’ and they all echoed him happily, clinking their glasses together and swallowing down the sharp sweet champagne.

‘Okay,’ said Poppy, once Commander Sheppard sat down, ‘my notes from the ground said that they want us to look as natural as possible. I’ll go around the table as you eat your meal. Tell the viewers how excited you are, what a smooth journey it was, et cetera. I’ll start with the Beta and then pass it around to the two seniors and then Commander Sheppard can say goodbye. Are you ready?’

They looked around at each other and nodded, Eliot counted down and then the light on the side of the camera came on and Harry could tell that he was broadcasting live to Earth, because the monitor of the computer perched on the counter said so. Poppy listened to instructions from the ground through her big headphones and then finally gave them the thumbs-up.

‘Welcome aboard the Damocles,’ she said, addressing the camera. ‘I’m Poppy Lane, head of communications and in-flight correspondent for this mission, which means you’ll be spending a lot of time with me and my colleague, Junior Flight Engineer Eliot Liston. It’s a real privilege to serve on this mission. We’re grateful to the team on the ground, who are supporting our flying, and to you at home for cheering us on.’ Then, for the international audiences, she said some words hastily in French, Russian, Mandarin. ‘Bienvenue à bord du Damoclès/Menya zovut Poppy Lane/Gǎnxiè nín de zhīchí…’ The selection committee had been right; like Harry, Poppy was a perfect face for their mission. ‘Et maintenant, un message du restes des Bêta.’

Poppy handed the microphone to Harry first. ‘So,’ she began, ‘Harrison Bellgrave. As one of the youngest people in space, at the start of this historic mission can you tell the viewers back on Earth how you’re feeling?’ Harry smiled at his own reflection in the lens, his pupils big and dark as singularities. Although, even as he felt it, it was fading from him. That familiar feeling of pride at his accomplishment. The golden shards of sunlight on the arm of the trophy as it was handed to him, the familiar weight of it. The evanescent thrill of victory. He enjoyed the game because he always won. The sound of the crowd, of a million hands clapping just for him, swift and vanishing as a roll of thunder, and what came after this? More years of striving? For what? What now?

Harry smiled anyway.

‘Tonight, I feel like… an astronaut.’

Chapter 11 JESSE

^13.05.12

THE SOUND OF THE siren knifed into his sleep, and Jesse awoke shivering with a primitive kind of fear. He tumbled into an awareness of his surroundings. It was his first night on the ship, and he was in danger.

His time at Dalton had conditioned him into a Pavlovian response to the master alarm – stop whatever you are doing. Get up. Find the nearest exit. So that is what he did. He shimmied down his bunk and landed on the floor in time for Harry to flip on the lights.

‘Do you think it’s a fire?’ Harry asked, his eyes wide with terror.

Eliot squinted from his bunk. ‘What?’ he croaked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

‘Maybe a meteor?’ Jesse said. He pictured a flying rock searing a hole through the hull of their ship, and then rapid decompression as the oxygen poured out. His back prickled with goosebumps.

‘Let’s go,’ Harry said, flinging the door open, and they dashed out into the darkened crew module where Poppy and Astrid were already gathered, blinking in their pyjamas, their faces illuminated by warning lights.

‘Maybe it’s a drill,’ Poppy said.