“Weightless”
By Laszlo Belarski
Amanda sat down on the ledge of the large window, slowly,
carefully. She was alone in the white room. She could have chosen any of the
more comfortable seats available. Yet she had felt the need of sitting here, as
close as possible to the bright stars shining through the thick, perfectly
transparent window.
Her sad, brown eyes took the
sight in. The uncanny blackness of space, that years before –- when she had
seen it for the first time from outside Earth’s atmosphere -– had overwhelmed
her with its enormity. Its paradoxical sense of weight had turned her stomach to ice.
And against that blackness, the pure
diamonds of the stars, so much brighter than on her native Earth. As a young
woman just starting her off-Earth career she had embraced their friendly glow,
hanging on to it like a lifebelt in a deep black ocean. No amount of study at
the Academy had prepared her for the first confrontation with that void, with
those piercing diamonds.
Amanda touched the window, her
warm open palm radiating a blurry outline on the glass around her hand. She
closed her eyes, becoming more aware of the low humming of the Space Station
reaching her through the floor. The gentle vibration of what had become, year
after year, her new home.
Since the beginning, she had
embraced the busy routines on board the Space Station, the tight schedules that
occupied her mind, locking the blackness outside. She had enjoyed working with
the other scientists on board, seeing in them the same unconditional passion,
the same rational curiosity that still burned within her. And maybe –- although
they never talked about it -– also seeing some of her same fears reflected in
their eyes.
Years had passed, years of hard
work, of discovery. Tests, experiments, report writing. Everybody in her unit
had been too busy to develop anything more than camaraderie, companionship,
team spirit.
Until the incident, that is.
***
It happened on their fourth Probe
Mission together.
Keiichi was her assigned Probe
Operator, a quiet, competent man in his forties. Amanda admired the way he
seemed at home in the very same blackness that scared her so. She observed his
sure movements, the complex sequences of operations he performed like second
nature. She felt safe next to him, secretly comforted by his presence just as
she was comforted by the friendly glow of the stars.
It was something she had realized since the first time they
had left the Space Station together, alone in the small Probe. Some tests on
the new Polymer compounds she was working on had to be performed at Zero-G.
Keiichi would lead the Probe away from the gravitational field of the Station,
then he would patiently wait for Amanda to execute her series of tests,
watching her as she took notes in concentration. Occasionally, her brown eyes
would meet his calm gaze. Almost
finished, her eyes would say. Take
your time, you are safe with me, Keiichi’s eyes seemed to reply.
On that fourth mission together,
the Radio communications with Space Station had suddenly ceased. The slightest
frown had creased Keiichi’s brow. He had switched to Visual code, asking for
clarifications. The obsolete but efficient Visual system was still in use in
emergencies. A light operated from the Space Station had blinked in code,
informing them that there was a problem with some of the Transmitters facing
their Sector. They had to put the mission momentarily on hold and wait for further
instructions, while the repair works were performed.
Keiichi had stopped the Probe
engines and relaxed, reassuring Amanda. Suddenly not burdened with operational
tasks, they had found themselves talking
for the first time -– not as Probe Operator and Science Officer, but as man and
woman.
Floating weightlessly next to
each other in the semi-obscurity, the round window of the Probe framing the
space like a vivid painting, they had talked of the void, of the stars. Amanda had
felt surprisingly at ease, the gaping circle of space no longer a threatening
uncharted territory. Keiichi was her map.
She could sense that his drive to
the stars was different from hers. There was in him a sort of longing for the
weightless space, as if his whole life and training were motivated by the need
of being immersed in that endless void. As if the only place where he felt
really at home was here,
floating at Zero Gravity surrounded by the blackness of the Universe. But
unlike her, that blackness was a powerful driving force for Keiichi. He was a Sailor, answering the call of the
Unknown Deep Ocean. She was a Scholar,
studying that same Unknown because it scared her.
She had talked of her fears. It
had felt right to do so, to open up to another human being, the closest to her
in the vast Universe.
Slowly, as the momentum of the
Probe moved the Space Station away from the field of vision of their window,
they had touched, then kissed. It had come naturally, but had surprised them
both. They had hugged, suspended together against the starry background. Amanda
had felt years of secrecy and denial of her feelings melting away in Keiichi’s
embrace; she had felt her Rational Scientist disguise crumbling to dust. With
tears of relief in her eyes, she had started undressing him, cherishing the
touch of his hands taking off her uniform.
***
The Probe had slowly completed a
full revolution, and the Space Station had reappeared through the round window.
Keiichi had seen it too late. The
Visual system of the Station was blinking red warning lights, in a fast
sequence repeated over and over. God knows for how long they had been
transmitting it.
Amanda had seen Keiichi rushing
to the controls, then the Probe had been violently shaken by something
colliding with it. Circuit boards had sparkled flames, melting wires and
sending noxious fumes in the Oxygen of the Probe. Before they could do
anything, the fire had spread inside the cabin, despite the sprinklers coming
alive, their thin watery mist weightless. Soon the flames had engulfed the
Spacesuit compartment.
Amanda had heard Keiichi’s curses
as he dived towards the two Spacesuits. He had used his clothes to try to
contain the fire already consuming one of the Spacesuits beyond repair. She had
snapped out of her immobility, the danger of their predicament violently
kicking in. Rushing towards Keiichi, she had felt his strong grip on her arm.
Before she could understand what
was happening, she had been pushed in the Pressure Chamber, her body slamming
against the wall of the crammed compartment. The only intact Spacesuit had
followed, thrown in like a grotesque hollow puppet. Then Amanda had realized
what Keiichi had done. She had shouted, as the thick Airlock between her and
the blazing cabin shut her inside the Pressure Chamber.
Shouting, she had seen Keiichi
through the Airlock’s glass pane. She couldn’t hear him, but she could read his
lips spelling her name. Before the flames had engulfed him.
The rest was a blur. She did not
remember wearing the Spacesuit, or activating the De-Pressurize sequence of the
Chamber, or even opening the Probe’s external Airlock.
She had found herself floating in
space outside the Probe, and had felt consciousness quickly leaving her. The
last image she remembered was the silent inferno burning inside the spherical
Probe.
***
That was seven months ago.
Amanda wiped a single tear from
the corner of her eye. She looked away from the starry window, as a door opened
in the white room. A smiling woman walked towards her with a computer printout.
“Here you go, Amanda,” the woman
said, kindly touching her shoulder, “She’s as healthy as can be.”
Amanda carefully stood from the
window ledge, taking the printout. She touched her swollen belly. The printout
was a high-resolution hologram of the baby inside her.
Amanda smiled, looked at the
hologram against the starry window. The baby girl seemed to float.
Weightless, like the moment in which she had been
conceived.
END
© Copyright Laszlo
Belarski 2005