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First Flight

NO REFLECTION When you travel through Space, you find that its not shiny, like people think. No dust, no vapors to diffuse your lights. Just your exhaust, which quickly dissipates, absorbed by nothingness.

Matte black universe, capturing the light, the absence of reflection, and so silent. Senses so deprived you hear your heartbeat in your ears and you start talking to yourself for stimulation.

Like paint on velvet, each precious point of light

2 consumed by black along the edges. Utter darkness, like the grasslands in my state, where I almost hit a cow one night, because it was so black, with no reflection.

That last part I wrote because I heard about it from a friend. He described going off the road after almost hitting a black cow in the dark. I can relate to that from driving buggies on Luna. Sometimes, if youre driving too fast, with the light and dark contrast so extreme, you cant tell whats shadow and whats a hole in the surface. Been there, done that. Twice. There arent that many ways for a young person to make good money AND a name for himself in this economy. Especially in Luna colony, where everyone has to work to earn their keep, and most of the jobs are tech or maintenance. Guys my age go to work, go to the bars, sleep it off. Lather, rinse, repeat. Pretty soon theyre old guys whove been doing the same thing for fifteen years and got nothing to show for it. Just not very interesting. Besides, I have the right personality profile. Someone selfsufficient, confident, and optimistic. Smart, but not too smart (geniuses arent encouraged to pursue risky careers). Plus, Im born and raised low grav, which makes me a better risk for space travel. No need for blue skies and butterflies and that shit. No nostalgia for the cool green hills of earth. Never even been there Did you know they let you choose the colors and interior elements for your ship? The seat covers and consoles come in a variety of colors and patterns. I tried to pick something that wasnt too boring, but not so loud that it would get on my nerves after a few years. And the walls can be stenciled or stickered up with your favorite team logos, or motifs, or whatever you want. In fact, they recommend you leave some space to work on during your flight. Not that Im very artistic. Not that its really a flight, either. Language seems to adapt only slowly. This is not an airship. Im not flying. Im hurtling through space in a metal can, with a cargo more valuable than I am. Im monitoring a ship that can pilot itself, and communicate with home base, and with the destination, all on its own. Fully autonomous. Some people question why they even bother to send a living pilot on these runs. There are lengthy rationales, justifications involving humans and exploration and blah, blah, blah. The truth is: I am the back-up system. The human brain, wet and fuzzy and imprecise, is there in case something goes wrong. So far, weve been lucky.

3 This is our three year anniversary. Ive got roughly a year and a half to go before we reach the moon orbiting Jupiter that is our destination. I say we because its me and Jolene out here. Shes my Sim counselor, and my best friend. Ive told her things I havent told anyone else. Probably never will, either. Sim counselors have come a long way since they were developed to deal with post-traumatic stress. Im so grateful to have her as my flying buddy, keeping me company on this trip from inner to outer solar system. I was so excited to escape lunar orbit, and head out into real space. Then, a few months later, I started to panic, to freak out. There was nothing outside my window. Nothing but black. Maybe the universe is filled with dark energy and dark matter, but thats the problem. Whatever it is, its DARK. The stars are very far away, my friend, and when you look out there, past your worried reflection, it scares the shit out of you. Jolene said to write about it. Explore my feelings. Dispel my fears by putting them into words. Space as a Black Box
Blacker than night, it waits. Velvet soft, intriguing, set with sparkling jewels, Beautiful, beguiling. Curiosity and wonder overwhelming, Im on the outside, dying to get in.

Finding, an infinity of dark. Matte black, reflecting nothing. Hard edged, and cold as ice, with insubstantial vapor, hot as fire. Inhuman scale of emptiness. Im on the inside, Dying to get out.

Once I get to Jupiter, Ill have a couple weeks R and R, and then itll be back in the can for the return trip. I might choose a new Sim. Jolene is blonde, very sweet, and understanding. I think for the return trip, I want a brunette, someone sexier, harder, not so sympathetic. Someone who will challenge me. Besides, getting to know someone is the most entertaining part of a relationship. I hope I dont freak out when the time comes. Some pilots do that. Get drunk and fight the inevitable. It doesnt work. You signed a contract, and they wont keep you at the outposts. They canttheyre under contract, too. Unless you choose the airlock, youre on your way back, on schedule. I figure, if I did it once, I can do it again. Gotta keep it together, so Ill go on writing. The main thing is, when I get back home, Ill have almost ten years of good wages in the bank. I could invest in a small business, maybe get a real girlfriend. Then I can sit in the bar with the other pilots, and well talk about everything except space. When the wanna-bes come over to ask about it, maybe Ill give them my poems to read. Maybe not. Ill probably just nod and say Space flight. Yeah. Been there, done that. Twice.