The Everlasting Journey
by Bella Semeniuk
10…
They were humanity’s best.
9…
A diverse range of volunteers chosen from a pool of over 10 billion people.
8…
Strapped into a spaceship called The Everlasting Journey with no destination.
7...
Their mission: to escape their broken planet and find a new home for humanity.
6…
Each person with a different array of skills that they could bring to a future colony.
5...
A doctor and a trillionaire, watching nervously from their positions on opposite sides of the shuttle.
4…
A musician and a former president, silently acknowledging that this little metal cabin was the world’s most important stage, the focus of billions of people at that moment.
3...
An engineer and an astronaut, both intimately familiar with the stress of the count-down, though only one of them had been to space.
2…
An artist and an historian, the gears of their minds turning, trying to figure out how they would freeze this moment on a canvas or in a book.
1...
A child genius and a First Nations elder, the youngest and the oldest people ever to be blasted into space.
0…
The rocket’s engines ignited, pressing the passengers into their seats. And just like that, the reality of the mission finally sank in. They were leaving Earth, the only home they had ever known, forever. Even though the planet was dying, abandoning it stirred up feelings of regret and sadness in each of them. The artist would no longer be able to gaze out the window of her studio onto the bustling city below. The historian would never again step into his favorite library and let the scent of books weave itself into his skin and the folds of his clothing. The view of the mountains, the glow of the sun, the comfort of their homes… These could not be packed away into the little metal compartments of the spaceship, so they were confined to memory as the voyagers soared away.
Yet it was not these lost places that made the passengers’ hearts twinge most painfully as they sped towards the unknown. It was the people. Parents, children, sisters, brothers, friends and lovers left behind. And yet, they could not stay. Even the people closest to the ten voyagers had insisted they go, because the smoke-clogged view of the stars held more hope than the wasteland that planet earth had become.
And so, every one of the people selected for the mission had spent just over a year learning exactly what would need to happen in order for The Everlasting Journey to leave Earth. They had read flight manuals and done simulations, but somehow, now that the launch was really happening it felt different. Inside the small metal cabin, fear hung in the air like smog over a city, but the onlookers were too far away to know this.
They stood down below at a safe distance, hooting and hollering with excitement as they shielded their eyes from the fiery tail of the rocket. They were glossed in sweat and decked out in all the cheap souvenirs that money could buy: one-size-fits-all t-shirts, necklaces of plastic beads, sunglasses and colorful caps. At first glance the mood was light, but one only needed to examine the crowd a little more carefully to see past the false cheer. The rigid postures, hateful eyes and jagged lines of anger in the faces were telltale signs of tension. Every one of the people watching the ship take off had volunteered their names in the hope that they would be the ones to go, yet they had not been deemed worthy. Inside each of their hearts was a grimy pit of jealousy and a single question: Why do they get to escape?
No one denied that the only way to live would be to escape. That was what the scientists said, and for once, people believed them. Of course, it wasn’t really a leap of faith: a person only needed to poke their head outside for a moment before this became depressingly apparent. The smoke suffocated even the heartiest of creatures and acid fell from the sky. Fires raced across the land and hurricanes pulled entire cities into the over-polluted depths of the oceans. Only fools dared to hope, but the headlines claiming escape was possible had turned even the most logical of people into fools.
When the trillionaire announced that he would be funding a mission to leave the planet forever and that anyone could apply to join him on his crew of ten, the people had nearly trampled over each other in a desperate bid for survival. Months later, after the trillionaire had finished sorting through the mountain of applications, the people of Earth had watched their televisions with bated breath. He had emerged from his study with a single piece of paper, a list of names.
Almost everyone was disappointed. And now, the last of their hope raced away in a little metal can, defying gravity at an incredible speed of 10 kilometers a second.
As the rocket tore through the atmosphere, it shook and roared like a caged animal. Though no one had ever been sent into space in a rocket this powerful, the ship’s tremors contained a unique dash of familiarity for each of its passengers. A Tokyo subway car and an earthquake in California. A roller coaster ride where the only noise louder than the clattering wheels had been the exhilarated screams of the thrill-seekers. Even a chaotic rocket launch that had killed all but one astronaut a year earlier.
As their bodies were jolted, the passengers who had no part in the logistics of the launch squeezed their eyes shut and listened. The sounds of the ship were mingled with the voices of the crew, the ground control team, and the ship’s AI. For those unfamiliar with the technical language, the voices, the vibrations, and the static seemed to join together and blanket the cabin in a baffling quilt of noise.
“Bzzt… Roger that… bzzz…”
“Cabin pressure systems go…”
“Check…check.”
“Bzzt… maximum dynamic pressure reached…”
“Trajectory maintained…”
“Additional boosters releasing… bzzt… Approaching terminal velocity… bzzt... 3,2,1… All systems go…bzzt… Main engines…Fuel levels…”
The words drifted in and out of focus, but the general calm of the speakers reassured everyone on board.
“Electrical systems?”
“Check.”
“Control panel?”
“Check.”
“Communications?”
“Check.”
“Fuel supply?”
There was a pause.
And then a curse.
And then the nervous voice of the astronaut: “We have a breach in fuel tank C. I repeat, a breach in fuel tank C.”
The engineer's brow was furrowed as she voiced an order to the AI onboard. “Engage autonomous repair systems.” As the seconds ticked by, she could imagine the little repair drones racing like a herd of wild animals to the site of the leak.
The trillionaire was suddenly very glad that he had spared no expense in making sure that the rocket would be able to overcome even the most unlikely of problems.
Meanwhile, the astronaut stared at the screen in front of him, a photograph of the damage taken by the drones. Fortunately, the crack was small, maybe a centimeter across and closing under the careful attention of the robots, who acted like surgeons stitching the little wound shut.
A voice from earth crackled into the cabin “How much fuel lost?”
The astronaut replied, his voice full of tension, knowing that each precious drop lost could mean the difference between success and failure of the mission, “7,067 litres so far, AI systems project a loss of 12,459 litres before the tank is patched.”
“Roger that…” replied the voice, and in the pause that followed, the thoughts of the crew on board The Everlasting Journey were of the mathematicians down below, calculating whether or not they would have enough fuel to escape Earth’s gravity.
Static filled the speakers, followed by four words: “Mission still a go.”
The passengers breathed a collective sigh of relief. They would live, the mission would succeed, they were safe! The astronaut watched on his screen as the hole shrank. It was mere millimeters across, almost sealed, when the spark entered. There were flames, and then the camera blinked out.
The calm, robotic voice of the AI leapt from the cabin’s speakers to the ears of the passengers: “Emergency thermal shield engaged.”
“This is The Everlasting Journey, we have a fire. Should we release the affected fuel tank?”
The reply came quickly, with terrifying certainty. “Do not release tank C. I repeat, do not release the fuel tank! It is necessary to overcome Earth’s gravity. Rely on the thermal shield and please remain calm.”
“Roger that.” As he spoke the astronaut tried to keep the fear at bay, but his thoughts were grim.
Helplessness washed over the voyagers. They all knew that when someone asked you to remain calm, there was usually good reason to panic.
Little by little, the temperature in the cabin began to rise. At first, the passengers denied it. They attributed the sheen of sweat on the faces around them to the stress of the launch. After all, wouldn’t it be unreasonable to assume that the cabin was getting warmer? It was oh-so-far-away from the fuel tanks and protected by layers of insulation, not to mention the thermal shield. But it continued to get hotter.
Finally, the astronaut’s words burst through the steadily warming air: “Everlasting Journey to ground control, we are experiencing an increase in temperature. I repeat it is getting hotter inside the cabin!”
From the other end of the line came static, and then nothing. The cabin was eerily silent, apart from the ceaseless shaking of the rocket. Then the alarm sounded, blaring its noise throughout the shuttle. With the rocket’s speed, along with their various restraints still pressing the passengers into their seats, they couldn’t even move their hands to cover their ears.
Then the AI added itself to the cacophony: “Communications down… please repair at earliest convenience… communications down…”
A loud bang sounded from somewhere below, causing everyone on The Everlasting Journey to flinch. The screams of the alarm and the voice of the AI ceased. For a moment, no one spoke. Then the questions came, tentative at first but growing in volume, bombarding the astronaut and the engineer like bullets.
“What was that?”
“Was that the fuel tank?”
“How did this happen?”
“What should we do?”
“What’s going to happen to us?”
“Are we going to make it?”
Neither answered. They could not bring themselves to voice the terrible truth. Regardless of what they did, the situation was out of their hands. But the looks on their faces must have been enough.
With a single nod, the elder began a prayer in the Ojibway tongue of her people: “Naadamawishinaam daga noongom, Gichidibenjiged. Help us all now, O Lord.” Her voice was soft and lyrical, breaking through the stifling heat of the cabin.
Soon the musician's voice joined the mix, singing the words of an album the world had yet to hear: “I used to get tired of hearing those words, the world is on fire, our voices unheard.”
Under her breath, the engineer was muttering: “There must be a way we can fix this. We must fix this.”
The astronaut’s words rushed from his mouth into the dead microphone of his headset: “Ground Control, this is The Everlasting Journey, do you read me? We have a fire. Do you read me?”
As the cabin grew hotter and hotter, the rest of the voices chimed in hysterically.
The historian: “Is this how we will be remembered? Who will remember us? Who will record the story? Oh, all the stories I know! I know of great leaders and wars. Of heroes and plagues, but what is the use? Oh, what is the use of it all!”
The artist: “I see colours - the red of the heat and the white light pouring through. What a shame that I cannot capture it. No one will see what I see!”
The doctor: 46.5 degrees Celsius, the human body cannot survive temperatures over 46.5 degrees Celsius...”
The trillionaire: “Is there a solution? Whatever it is, I will pay—no matter the cost!”
The child genius: “I want to go HOME!”
The former president: “I was a fool to leave, a fool.”
The stifling temperature became unbearable and smoke began to fill the cabin. Its tendrils crept through the air like fingers, choking the life out of the passengers. As it seeped into their lungs, it was as if the river of words that had flowed only seconds before had been dammed. Only fragments of speech, song, and prayer escaped the throats of the passengers, their vocal cords ripped raw by fits of coughing.
“Take me home!”
“All the stories…”
“I will pay.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Who will see?”
“Ground Control!”
“Fix this…”
“O Lord…”
“46.5 degrees…”
“OUR WORLD IS ON FIRE!”
Back on Earth, the onlookers watched as flames spread across the body of the rocket. Some screamed, some cried, and some remained frozen in shock. As the ship plummeted, some even laughed at the irony: that The Everlasting Journey had only lasted three-and-a-half minutes. It was difficult to believe that the passengers they had once thought so fortunate were now trapped in a hunk of flaming metal. And yet, it was happening before their eyes.
The passengers would not escape—no one would. Not the lucky, not the rich. Neither the smart, nor the faithful. Every one of them, all of the billions of people— they were trapped. Trapped on a dying world. And there was no one to save them.