The Universe Between Us

by Jane C. Esther

  Ana walked quickly back to the base. She had trekked two miles out so that she wouldn’t be followed or seen, and the walk there had emptied her canteen. She coughed from the dry air in her lungs. She still stung from Jolie’s superficial assessment of her actions, but how could she blame her? It didn’t matter though, in the long run. She couldn’t hurt Jolie more than she already had by trying to smooth things over between them. Sighing, she saw the reddish pods drawing closer. It would be a long month.

  As she entered the main unit through the airlock, she tried to focus her attention on the work she had to do to get the laboratory up and running, but she couldn’t shake Jolie’s disappointed stare from her mind. The rest of the crew was already there, seated in a circle on the floor of the sparsely furnished sterile room.

  “Where have you been?” Carlos demanded. His slight frame disguised a sinewy musculature that would be employed in building and repairing the habitat left by MarsOne.

  She had known the members of the crew for years, and though Carlos was never her favorite, she had nothing but respect for him. This change in demeanor annoyed her, and on top of everything else, she snapped. “As your ranking officer, I don’t need to justify my whereabouts to you. If anyone gets to question me, it’s Captain Legrand.” She took a seat and did not look at Carlos, but could see him scowling in her periphery.

  Martine and Udeme looked at each other, then raised their eyebrows at Ana. She knew she shouldn’t have barked at him, and certainly shouldn’t have pulled her rank card this early in training, but she had no patience.

  Ana took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for being late to this meeting.”

  Carlos raised his eyebrows as Martine cleared her throat to begin the meeting. Ana knew she’d have to explain herself later, but was glad to be out of the spotlight for now. “You’ve all received details of the training exercises for the next month. Since the timeline was accelerated, you can disregard those except the first one. I’ll be drawing up new plans tonight and pushing them out early tomorrow morning. This isn’t going to be easy, but I know we can be as prepared as we would have been. Does anybody have questions, or shall we start the first training simulation?”

  “Please, would you clarify the policy on space skins for this month?” Kyoko asked. In her early thirties, Kyoko had been the youngest senior scientist at a pharmaceutical company in Tokyo. She was brilliant in medicine and had developed key drugs to treat Lyme disease and multiple sclerosis. Her contributions would be missed in the scientific community, though her work on Mars would be just as important.

  “Of course. They are to be worn during simulations only for the first week, and then because of the turn of events, for the last three weeks, we will wear them as if we were already on Mars. If you are having trouble with your suit, Liv will fix it for you.” They all knew that, of course, because Liv had been fixing suits and other components in their virtual trainings for years. By this point, if something happened to any one of them, they could mostly fill each others’ roles. Still, it was important for each of them to have their own set of tasks. It would help keep team morale up, and ultimately, it would mean the difference between a successful mission and one that failed.

  Kyoko nodded her thanks.

  “Anybody else?” Martine asked. The room was silent, waiting for permission to start. “Ana, please set the timer.”

  “We are a go,” Ana said with authority.

  The crew stood and quickly dispersed for the first training exercise. Moments later, an alarm went off and the walls flashed blue and white. Ana took out a screen and set it to display the locations and movements of the crew. She saw body shapes converging upon the source of a simulated leak, located in the west facing wall of the anterior pod. In this scenario, debris had struck the wall material which had just cracked, allowing the inhospitable Martian atmosphere to seep in.

  Udeme temporarily patched the wall while Liv printed a wall modification to attach to the inside. Ana watched the screen as Luke’s outline donned a space skin and made its way outside, attaching another piece of wall there. Ana went through the motions in her mind. The material was responsive, and the patch would be absorbed into the existing wall.

  The team began to filter toward the main room again, emergency averted. Luke came in last through the airlock, taking his helmet off and puffing his cheeks.

  Ana checked the time. “Great work, everyone. You did it in 75% of the time it took in VR.”

  “Let’s resume our baseline activities and meet back here at 2100 hours,” said Martine. Ana saw a brief but penetrating look she gave Liv, and was struck with a surge of jealousy. She wanted that for herself.

  “Ana, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Martine hooked her arm through Liv’s and moved in close. Together, they were radiant. Over a decade ago, the crew was chosen based on psychological stability and genetic strength, their beauty the expression of the latter. All except for Ana, chosen for her lineage, daughter of the mission director. The fitness of the group would make it easier to perpetuate their colony when the time came. She thought of the children she’d have to bear in a few years, with either Carlos or Luke, and her mind wandered to Jolie. Ana wasn’t sure she even wanted children, at least not on Earth. On Mars, it was an obligation, one that would be more palatable with a partner like Jolie.

  Ana spent the next hour documenting the results of the training scenario. As second in command, she would be required to send a daily, or if needed, more frequent reports to mission control on Earth. Of course, the team on the home planet would receive an almost constant stream of data from the Martian base detailing who was where, for how long, and even what they were doing. There would be no privacy, though the remoteness of the training base at least made it seem otherwise. The data feed was necessary to avoid another MarsOne situation. The sponsors would do everything in their power to make sure this mission was successful, down to terminating one or more of its crew members if necessary. Ana cringed at the thought. She wasn’t sure anybody else knew about this contingency besides her and Martine. If there was anything the scientific world learned from the previous disaster, it was that any leak in their tight preparations could spell doom.

  When she finished, she went to lay down on her bed. She was close to drifting off when her bracelet pinged.

  I hope you are well. I’m sorry I was angry. I understand everything now. Sadly, Jolie.

  Ana drew in a breath. She hadn’t expected Jolie to figure it out this quickly, just from their conversation earlier today. She was light and dizzy with relief. She had someone on the outside who knew, a huge liability, but she felt only elation. Maybe this meant they could at least be friends. Maybe Jolie wouldn’t have to be completely gone from her life. They could send video messages through space to one another in a sort of very, very long-distance friendship. She wanted desperately to write back and have an actual, out in the open conversation about her future—their futures, but she quickly tempered her emotions. Sadly, Jolie. It would be unfair of her to pounce on this opportunity while she knew Jolie still hurt. She closed the message and took off her bracelet, stowing it in a drawer. She needed to be strong and loyal to her mission. There were six people, and scores more behind the scenes, depending on her right now, and she wouldn’t let them down.

  With renewed purpose, she made her way into the room across the hall. Their next exercise was to add a laboratory pod onto the back of the base, but that would take days and the efforts of the whole crew. The last time they’d all been at this base was two years ago. Some enhancements had been made, but adding a functioning laboratory wasn’t one of them. She’d used part of this small room last time, but it wasn’t conducive to keeping a sterilized environment. For now, while they built the new one, she’d have to set up a makeshift space in here again. The hair samples she’d asked everyone to leave sat in vials on the end of a small counter. As the rest of the crew spent the end of their first day winding down, she began the process of screening for abnormalit
ies and establishing current baseline biomarkers. Jolie didn’t creep into her thoughts until it was time to sleep, and Ana knew that was the best she could hope for.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Yes, they’re tonight. You have to come over.” Jolie peered anxiously out the window at the fading light.

  “What’s this again?” Nova asked.

  “The something-ids. I don’t remember, different meteors. Remember how much fun we had last time?”

  “You mean that time I chaperoned your little outdoor sex party? Listen, I really want to, but I have to finish this paper. It’s due tomorrow.” Nova’s tone became more annoyed by the second. “I can ask Karlee if she wants to come over.”

  Jolie slumped her shoulders, defeated. Nova wouldn’t understand why she just had to look at the same night sky Ana was watching, on a night she’d surely be looking at it. Ana had been gone for two weeks and Jolie hadn’t heard from her again, but it comforted her to know they’d probably be watching tonight’s meteor shower together, in a way.

  “Yeah, okay. See if she can come over,” Jolie said half-heartedly.

  Nova chuckled. “You sound thrilled by that idea. I’ll go ask her, then send you a message.”

  “Okay. If you finish your paper, will you come later?”

  “Not a chance that’s going to happen, but sure. I can promise that if it does, I will.”

  Jolie hung up and sighed. She was tired. In addition to her schoolwork and spending long hours in the studio, she had been doing some heavy lifting around the property getting the garden ready for winter. She wanted to make Ana’s last few days there carefree, though she was still torn about whether she’d be sticking around. Now that everything was out in the open, she felt a sort of reverence toward Ana. To give up everything in order to do something so extraordinary, you had to be a special sort of person, and it only complicated her feelings. How could Jolie feel anything but love toward someone so loyal to a cause, even to the death? Two weeks had given her enough space to realize that the most loving thing she could do was to support Ana while she could, then let her go.

  Her bracelet buzzed with an incoming message. Sorry babe, Karlee can’t make it either. Have fun. Jolie sighed with relief. As much as she wanted the company, she’d just be wishing that Karlee was Ana the entire night. That could lead her down paths she hadn’t fully explored with Karlee, and wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  Jolie made her way outside with a chair and one of Ana’s long, warm coats. The air carried the sharp scent of fallen leaves, and she hunkered down into the chair, drawing the coat tightly around her. It smelled vaguely of Ana’s skin, and she buried her face in the collar, inhaling deeply. She couldn’t help remembering the last time she was out here at night, during the Orionids. Her chest ached at the memory of Ana’s strong arms around her, the heat of Ana’s skin making her wish Nova had cancelled. Apparently, Nova had wished the same thing.

  Jolie sat down and looked up into the sky, shivering at the thought of her Ana, floating through that vast nothingness in a tiny ship, living out her days in a few square miles of a desolate planet. Hot tears formed in her eyes, stinging in the cold breeze. Suddenly compelled to make sure Ana knew she was very much wanted right here on Earth, she took out a screen and composed a message. When it was finished, she reread it, and knew she shouldn’t send it. Ana had been very clear, after all, about her plans and her determination to carry them out. Her silence the last two weeks sent an unmistakable message, but Jolie was feeling nostalgic, and the cloak of darkness suppressed her inhibitions. She swiped the message with a finger and sent it.

  She folded the screen up and put it in her coat pocket, not expecting a response tonight, or even at all, so she jumped when her wrist buzzed ten minutes later. She projected the message into the darkness.

  Thank you for writing. I’ve been thinking about you a lot as well, which is why I haven’t written or called you since the first day. I don’t want to complicate things. I’m so glad that you are watching tonight’s meteor shower even without my encouragement! I hope Nova is with you. If you feel like it, we could talk to each other face to face. That would be almost like watching it together. Jolie’s face flushed at the thought of being so close to Ana again, even if it was only a virtual connection. The darkness and small screens would add an air of intimacy that she’d missed desperately. There have been a few hiccups, but otherwise, it’s been a productive couple of weeks. I do miss home, though. This will be a difficult transition. XO, Ana.

  Jolie read the message over and over. Some small part of her was hoping that Ana would add a postscript that read, Just kidding. I’m coming home to live with you forever. She chastised herself for wishing that. As she was deciding whether or not she should call Ana, a feed came through on her bracelet. She found herself looking at a thinner, less put together version of the woman who had left two weeks ago.

  “Hi,” Ana said.

  Jolie felt giddy. “Hi, yourself.”

  “I can’t see you,” Ana said as she smiled.

  “It’s kind of nice. I get to stare at you all I want and you have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Ana chuckled. “Let me guess. You’re sitting outside, close to the house because I see a tiny bit of glow from the right side of the screen. Turn on night vision so I can see.”

  “You won’t be able to see the stars if I point it at the sky with night vision on.”

  “That’s okay. I would rather see you.” Ana seemed almost shy, and Jolie felt herself break into a sweat despite the temperature. Even after everything, Ana’s words still had that effect on her.

  “Okay.” She switched the camera setting. “Better?”

  “Much. It was nice to hear from you tonight.” She saw Ana set her device on some kind of shelf and lean back against her pillow.

  “You seem a lot more settled. Are you doing okay?”

  “I’m doing okay. It took a little while, but now it’s halfway over.”

  “Are you looking forward to it being done? Aren’t you supposed to want to stay there forever?” Jolie studied Ana’s conflicted facial expressions.

  “I am.”

  “You are what?”

  “I don’t know. Both?” She looked away from the camera as if gathering her thoughts, then turned back to look at Jolie. “I’m glad you figured it out. It’s nice to talk to somebody uninvolved.”

  “I’m not really uninvolved,” Jolie said.

  “You know what I mean. I just need to talk to someone who’s not here.” She adjusted her position and leaned a little toward the camera. Her next words started out in a whisper. “I don’t feel the same way as I used to about it, but I can’t step down, and I can’t really tell anyone. I signed that contract a long time ago. I miss home, though, and I’m looking forward to going back again. Maybe it’ll help me get back into the correct mindset.” Ana’s voice trailed off.

  Jolie didn’t know what to say, so she changed the subject. “Do you want to see the sky?”

  “Yeah.” Ana smiled again. “You really look good, by the way. Country living agrees with you.”

  “Oh, please. If that’s what you got from a night vision camera, then you should have your eyes checked. I’m the same as when you left.”

  “You looked good then, too. You’ve lost weight, though.” Ana moved the device so it was on her lap and Jolie was looking up at her.

  Jolie hadn’t considered that she was thinner, but now that Ana had mentioned it, she wasn’t eating as well. She had lost her appetite in the drama of two weeks ago, and it was only starting to return. “You’re thinner too. I hope you’re eating enough.”

  “I’m eating okay. Haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

  “Me neither.” They were silent for a long moment. Jolie angled her bracelet upward. “So, here’s the sky. Can you see the stars?”

  “A little,” Ana said. “Oh look, did you see that shooting star?”

  “No, I was trying to get the camera adjusted
for you. I can’t believe you saw one first. You’re not even here. Not fair.” Jolie laughed.

  “I love nights like this. It just makes you feel so insignificant, like nothing matters.”

  Jolie was about to disagree about what mattered when she heard the crunching gravel of a car approaching.

  “Um, someone’s here. I’ll be right back.” Jolie set the screen down on the chair so Ana could still see the sky. She walked around the house to the front door, the dim light from indoors illuminating her way. The blonde about to knock on the front door was unmistakable. “Karlee?”

  “Hey, girl, sorry I just showed up. It sounded like you might need a friend tonight and I finished what I had to do.” Karlee enveloped Jolie in a long hug.

  “Well, I did, but—”

  “No buts, I’m here now and we’re going to make a night out of it. I brought some wine and a blanket. We can sit out and watch the stars. A few more hours until the big show anyway.”

  “Okay. I was talking to Ana and kind of watching them with her.” Jolie shifted uncomfortably.

  “Oh. Ohh. Oops, I should have called.”

  “That would have been nice,” said Jolie.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking again. Well, I can go.” She began to back away toward the car, a pained expression forming on her face.

  “Wait. You clearly put a lot of effort into this, and you’re already here, so…”

  Karlee returned with a sweeping grin and handed the blanket to Jolie. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

  Jolie shook her head and laughed. As if Karlee cared about intruding. “Let me go tell Ana and hang up with her. Give me a minute?”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Jolie shuffled back to her chair, not looking forward to hanging up with Ana for many reasons. She couldn’t help but feel like she was doing something unethical by spending the night with Karlee instead of Ana, but Karlee was here and Ana wasn’t. Karlee was emotionally and physically available. Ana was ultimately neither.