Friday, June 24, 2011

Space: Into The Great Calm

Into The Great Calm

It always seems calm from within the storm. The gaping distance of still surrounded by chaos. And truly there’s nothing like swimming in the small silent moments of your thoughts while the rest of the world is caught up in the storm.  

It’s been thirteen hours since I’ve broke from L7. Scott will be on my tail soon enough. The chances of Helena letting this go are slim to none. She never lets anything go. Damn stubborn woman. And now that she’s aware of my existence there’s nothing going to stop that woman from pursuing me to the depths of hell itself.

There’s an hour left on the old probe’s life support system and Apollo dock shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes off according to sensors. The timing couldn’t be better as I’ve got a kink in my neck and my shoulder’s a little stiff from this travel. In my ear the chiming of controls signal the depletion of energy.

Lucky for me this probe has been sub-programmed to act as a hibernation unit in case of emergency crash. These old archaic units ought to have been outlawed but somehow there’s a few left and they’re virtually untraceable to scans. Not a chance the scent of my trail will be noticeable.

“Probe 9, initiate protocol.” The narrow voice of the Apollo docking agent blares through my tiny intercom system. Out along the horizon lines there’s three small docking clamps maneuvering to grab a hold of the probe by manual authorization. Underneath the lines of metal piercing into metallic cautiously I can see the golden colors of the sun hitting the earth before kissing the edge of the planet. It’s when the black becomes blue that the magic of the universe sends my mind in awe of all that has been and will come. The small clamps initiate a dance along the port side of the probe while I disengage myself from within my untimely coffin.

As I expel myself out of the small unit I’m awe-stricken by the sheer size of my surroundings. Apollo docking station Alpha happens to be the largest port on the lunar surface. The size and magnitude of the station can be seen from the surface of earth in a large city with minimal visibility. There are three captains docked alongside the final resting place of my celestial sarcophagus. Three mechanical C units stop short of me before moving onto locating the probes navigational array. Aside from standing in a zone that prohibits any life form from entering the units have already detected the missing array and signaled for a Dock Marshall to investigate immediately.

Silently the triggered alarm flashes throughout the dock without much more than a blink of lights with a red flash. There are now two men accompanied by a large F crane and medical C unit to research the small craft that lays dormant in the bay. Ducking below an armed storage cabinet I can make out three small ships newly serviced and ready for launch.

Without a ship I’ll never make it to Mars. And outrunning Helena will be more than difficult without the proper speed. She’s probably neck deep in the red tape of having to reinitiating the flight protocols to stabilize the ship systems. Navigation is blown to smithereens. That damn ship won’t do anyone a bit of good. But knowing Scott she’ll try. Should’ve killed that one when I had the chance. And that’s the thing about chances you never get the same one twice. Helena may follow, but I’ll be ready when she does. Waiting… to finish what was started on L7.

“Sir, excuse me. Sir you can’t be on this dock. It is a restricted area only.” A deputy dock Marshall stands behind me interrupting my thoughts with a tone in his voice that makes the nails on a chalkboard sound pleasant. Silently I arm the nearest gun waiting for another reason to fire. Without much warn he nods with a stern grimace before scooting out a nearby opening after a small group of pedestrians wearing Christian Alchemy Bingo shirts. The tiny cult of nomadic Jesus gamblers sends the deputy barreling up the north corridor after his own daywear and freedom from the grind.  

After his absence I continue back to my view of the open dock and help myself to a few pieces of gear from the locking cabinets before setting the explosives. Two rounds of ammo should aide in the destruction of the dock after I’ve broken clear of orbit. Timer’s been set for ten minutes when I round up the last pieces of equipment and seal the hatch on Orbital 4. There’s little distinction between this craft and the nine other’s that make up the north corner of the dock.

Aboard the Orbital two crewmen are easy enough to take out. Disabling the controls upon entry I handled the helmsman then the second mate falls into the line of fire. Without much effort I slip into the crewman’s uniform before the front cabin. Still a surprise my entrance sends the Captain scrambling for his weapon. Too Late. Man down. Last in line falls fast. Quickly I’m in control and pressing in the coordinates toward Martian space. L5’s last known coordinates.

Escaping the space dock opens the view of Earth to the Orbital’s observation floors on the port side. Nearly half the Orbital is blanketed in the crystal blue reflection of Earth. The view is partially blocked by the gray darkness of the lunar surface that acts a like an unwanted blemish in the view of the blue in a sea of silence. A calm that is broken by the sound of static.

“Delta. This is Delta. Can anybody read me?” Across the helm the comm. panel spouts the sounds of the nearest recon missions. “Mission Control. Apollo. Come in. Delta has boarded and explored L7 and recovered survivors.  There is no need for addition measures. Buoy for tow has been dropped at coordinates.”

Delta shouldn’t be on its way back already. But nevertheless it is. And with company. There may be time for a detour yet.

“Delta. This is Orbital 4. Can I be of assistance?” looking down at my lapel I continue. “I’m crewman Jenner. Over.”

“Jenner we’re heading into Apollo for repair. No assistance needed. Delta. Out.”

“Orbital 4. Out.” I signal before flipping the comm. off and watching the view once more with the intermittent static filling my ears.

Blanketing the sky in instantaneous color, the boom of explosion shakes the calm as it fills the expanse. Grey upon blue is now covered in an array of colors that seem more appropriate if they existed on the surface of the blue planet. The growing expanse of colors expands and contracts in a new unseen pattern as the Orbital makes its slow departure out into the darkness unseen.

A great calmness fills the air and sends me off into the direction of my destiny as I break away and turn down the sound once more.

Space. Into the Great Calm. More… the idea of Space becoming something larger has crossed the table on two or more occasions now. There are a couple very lovely people, dear friends to thank for the suggestion or rather their continued insistence that it does. 

Ah so often we forget this… what comes next must come next. There is no other way, no how, no excuse. And that not everything is what it seems. It amazing that the human mind can create conflict where there is none. It is only there when you make it. People must keep it simple. Kisses.

Give me time and I will change the world. How have you changed your world lately? It’s nothing to do with location… it’s all about you. Ah but never, never ever turn down the opportunity to change location if it is to your benefit. And if you want to do something? Then do it. Go out into the storm and face the challenges that come from that endeavor. But have a plan. No one wants to see you fail, lack faith in your dream or let go of anything that matters most. Let nothing and no one stand in your way. Take a chance, make a change, and jump into it. Feet first might be better for landing. And don’t worry about the other guy, focus on you. You cannot control people. You will be miserable trying to. You can try seeing it from their perspective. Anyhow… Have a lovely evening. Enjoy the living, loving and breathing with each other. Please remember life is certainly too short, too long and too precious to miss a thing. Stay Present! Kisses. m.

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