My Star

by Christine Gasbjerg

  I’ve not been given any instructions as to the format of the log, so I name it ‘The Star Log of Apollo 56’. Apollo 56 is the name of the vessel. Through the years there have been many Apollo ships – and now we’ve reached number 56 in the Apollo line.

  Space travel never caught my interest before this. The astronauts always seemed to come back with nothing to show for it other than reports on how inhabitable other planets are. Still, I’ve always been interested in space and the influences of planets on the human psyche. I believe that magnetism and other kinds of invisible forces and attractions from in- and outer-space do have a certain impact on us humans—although it appears to be a very vague and non-exact science, and nobody of social significance officially believes in it.

  On the topic of UFOs and aliens—I don’t know if they exist. I think they would have appeared by now if they did. But they haven’t. Not to my knowledge. Sure enough there are people who claim to have seen UFOs and been abducted by aliens, but no official authority has ever confirmed or documented any such sighting or experience. On top of that, the general impression I get from the media is that it always seems to be very ‘peculiar’ people who have spotted a UFO or been abducted by aliens – people who live all alone, who has poor social skills, or belong to some far-out religion or belief system. My impression from the media may not be the truth of course.

  In any case, I don’t believe in aliens at or above our level of intelligence. The idea that there might be intelligent life out there, that we don’t know of, is really hard for me to fathom. It seems unlikely. I believe we’re alone in the Universe.

  I look at Earth through the window of the spaceship, and it surprises me to see how small it has already become in the distance. It’s visibly growing smaller by the second, which indicates the ship’s very high speed—even though it feels as if we’re not moving at all. Of course high speeds are required, when we’re going beyond the outer perimeter of our galaxy in only a couple of months.

  Space and space technology is amazing... literally ‘a maze’ to me. I have no idea how it works or how many different technologies there are for traveling and creating speed. I only remember hearing about the combustion engine, which I believe is the first and still primary type of engine used on Earth—and I know it’s primarily running on oil or coal. I do know that’s how electricity generally is created too—and has been for centuries. I believe there's been historical attempts to generate electricity from other natural forces like wind, waves and sunlight, but somehow none of those technologies caught on. I remember something from the history lessons, when I was a kid, about how there used to be many energy companies all over the world back in those days, before they were merged into bigger worldwide companies. Today, there are only two gigantic energy companies on Earth providing energy to the whole world. It’s all based on oil and coal, and E-corp is the biggest one. That’s the way it’s always been for as long as I can remember.

  I feel like a fraud between all these scientists with my extremely limited knowledge of anything technological, scientific, and space related. All I know anything about is green plants, and what I read and watch in the media. I used to pursue my ‘career’ with power and action, but in the end, I started to feel like a man. Perhaps that’s why Jag couldn’t be with me – because I was behaving more masculine than feminine. In my career, I was running things, controlling things, pushing things, and I was very good at it, and it was expected of me too. I guess I ended up being like that all the time – including at home with him. I couldn’t turn it off when I got home, I couldn’t switch it off and become a softer person the moment I stepped in the door. But what I can do now, is give up behaving like a man entirely, and allow myself to be a feminine woman. Let love be the primary focus of my life. Alongside science. In this way writing a log is a very deliberate choice too – it doesn’t feel like controlling or pushing. It’s observing, describing and expressing… it feels like caring and giving. I’ve let go of all attachments—to my ex, to my fears, and to people’s expectations. My life is now simple and flowing… unforced and free.

  I’m stuck trying to write the first sentence of the Star Log. I really ought to start off with describing the mission of this expedition. Only, I'm not at all clear why we are here. I know we're looking for fuel, collecting minerals and other samples, but that's it. I suppose I better find out if anybody else has a more detailed answer. I look around the craft for someone who looks like they know stuff, and finally spot one.

  “What's your job description on this mission?” I’m approaching a woman who's got wild curly hair and looks a little geeky-crazy.

  “Excuse me?” The woman looks confused as she eyes me up from top to bottom.

  “Oh, sorry—Hi, my name is Millie. I'm keeping the log. What are you doing on the ship?” I catch myself lacking manners. I've been alone in my little bubble for quite a while now, and I've apparently forgotten my social skills. Mental note to remind myself how empathy and small talk breaks the ice, and gets you places with people.

  “Right. Well, hello. I'm Rosie. I’m in charge of Comms.” She smiles briefly as if her mind is somewhere else.

  “Comms?” I can't quite figure out what she means.

  “I oversee and maintain the tele communication systems on the ship. I'm the one talking to home base if we need something. I'm the one catching and interpreting communication from space… So what are you writing?”

  “In fact I'm just about to write a description of the mission. In your view, what's our mission?” I think I get nicely away with asking without revealing that I don't have a clue what we were doing in space.

  “The mission?” Rosie looks inquisitively at me. “Well, the mission is to collect as much intel on life forms and energy resources, such as new fossil fuel sites, in space as we can.”

  “Intel?”

  “Yes, meaning samples, recordings, communication, and observations. We're gathering intelligence.”

  For a moment it feels like my brain has stopped working—like it's stunned and can't form a single thought. Then I rewind in my mind what Rosie just said, and my next question become obvious. “You're collecting communication from space?”

  “Yes. I was on the last Apollo, and intercepted several different transmissions that formed different languages.” Rosie looks at me and notices my disbelieving stare. “You've not been informed?”

  My tongue seems dead. In fact my whole face and body feels as numb and motionless as my brain.

  “Well, you'll find out soon anyway, because I'm already picking up transmissions that are similar to the ones I intercepted on the last mission. And this time we're going much much further into space than we've been before, so I suspect that we'll get a lot closer to physical contact.” Rosie pauses and looks at me. I suppose she finally realizes I haven't got a clue. “We're not alone. There's intelligent life out there. From what I can tell, their intelligence and technology is quite a lot more advanced than ours.”

  “There’s life in space? We have found aliens?” I hear myself whisper.

  “Yes, well, they aren't 'alien' as such. We call them Extra-Terrestrial Beings.”

  “ET Beings? We've found ET?” I can't help myself suddenly giggling as I imagine the cute creature from the ancient children's movie. I wonder why I suddenly can't take this serious. I must get a grip of myself.

  “ET—yes…” Rosie gets the film reference, but doesn't seem amused. “I've not seen them physically yet, so I don't know what they look like. And as far as I know, we've not yet been in actual conversation with them, although many attempts have been made to communicate with them.”

  “So if you haven't seen them, and you haven't talked to them, how do you know they exist?”

  “We've intercepted messages.”

  “Messages for us, for humans?”

  Rosie hesitates. “I've got to get on now. It was nice talking to you.” She looks down and backs away from me.

  “How do you know the messages a
re from ET’s?” I follow Rosie, determined to get to know what she knows. “Could the messages in fact be from other humans from Earth, and not ET’s at all?” I'm hungry for knowledge now.

  “I'm sorry. It's all classified and I don't actually know if I'm allowed to discuss this with other crew members.” Rosie seems insecure.

  “Why not? We're part of the same crew. I've sworn confidentiality too. I'm supposed to write about everything that happens on this mission—so if you won't tell me, then you're obstructing my work. You've got to tell me.” I feel myself getting bossy, and now that I notice, I actually don't like it.

  Rosie looks confused and at a loss for words.

  I want to relieve the tension. “You can consider me to be the human recording device… so please speak into me…” I try to be funny and pretend to be an old-fashioned recording machine.

  Rosie just looks as me without smiling. She looks very insecure, and then, without a word, she walks away.

  Damn it! I feel like a fool.

  I see Rosie talking to another crew member, a man. They stand close and clearly have a private conversation. They both look serious. They quickly conclude the conversation and part.

  I follow Rosie and catch up with her. “Can we please talk?” I make sure I sound friendly and non-threatening.

  “My supervisor said I can only speak to you about things that specifically happen on this mission. And so far I've got nothing to report.” Her voice is low and firm, and it’s clear she has nothing more to say. With determination in her steps, she walks away.

  I let it go... for now.

  Now I know there's something I don't know. Something I want to know. Something I must know.

  THREE

  captain

  I noticed Rosie mention her supervisor, which makes me realize that I don’t know who my supervisor is—although I’m sure I have one. I’m so unprepared for this trip. But of all the things I don’t know, the least of my concerns is who my superior ranking officers are. I’m not keen for bosses anyway. All I want to know, is what Rosie and others seems to know about the presence of ETB’s. I look for the man she was talking to, but can’t find him. I suppose it would be a dead end anyway, since I can only assume that he’ll too keep knowledge to himself. In hindsight, Rosie told me things voluntarily, when I was just casually talking to her about the mission. It wasn’t until I got hungry for knowledge and got a bit bossy and weird, that she went timid and shut up like a clam. What’s wrong with me anyway—scaring people off like that? I gotta bottle up my kookiness and my eager enthusiasm, and save it for appropriate circumstances. When will I ever learn to behave? I sigh.

  I spot Kurt talking to Martin, and feel comforted by the thought of speaking to Kurt. I’m certain he’ll be happy to talk to me. He might even want to tell me classified stuff just to impress me.

  “Hi guys.” I smile and make sure I don’t appear at all bossy. From now on I’ll be just surfing for voluntary information that comes to me without pushing.

  “Hi Millie. Martin, this is Millie—Millie—Martin.” Kurt introduces us, and Martin and I shake hands. Up close, Martin is ungroomed and in need of a better personal hygiene, in my opinion. He is tall, chubby, dark curly hair, wild beard, and wearing greasy glasses. His clothes clearly aren’t newly washed, and his hand is sticky and feels dirty. It looks like he never gets out of his clothes, and there’s a certain smell about him that I can’t put my finger on. He gives an air of being a nerdy and overprotected mommy’s boy, who’s never been told to wash his hands or tidy up his room. An uncool guy who has most likely been an outsider all his life.

  I always felt like an outsider myself, but at least not as uncool or shabby as this guy. I expect that most of the crew can be considered outsiders—as far as they’re experts focused on one narrow field of knowledge... or in one word—nerds. Growing up, I always found it peculiar why the nerds, the really intelligent kids, weren’t the ones running things. It seemed to be the street-smart kids, the more aggressive and selfish kids, who were leading and taking up everyone’s attention. In my mind it should be the other way around.

  “Hi Millie. I noticed you at the prep meetings. Oh, and sorry for the air scare earlier.” Martin smiles apologetically.

  “No worries about the oxygen incident. I suffered no more harm than suddenly wanting a cigarette.” I smile to make him feel at ease, and both he and Kurt laughs.

  “I made you start smoking, did I?” Martin chuckles.

  “I certainly felt the need to inhale, that’s for sure. Did you find the problem?”

  “Well, I actually didn’t find the problem as yet. But everything seems to work fine now, so I’m sure it was just a stand-alone glitch. Anyway, Kurt has volunteered to help out, so we’re taking turns checking up on the system, so it won’t happen again, I assure you. What is it that you do?” Martin smiles disarmingly and seems eager to change the subject.

  I wonder if this is the perfect time to start circling my real topic of interest. “I write the log, and I am in fact just about to write about our expedition. Would you say our mission is to collect intel on ET activity, or what would you say the mission is?” I wonder if I’m too direct after all, and silently swear to be more subtle next time, if I’ve not scared him off already.

  “I’d say that the mission is to get intel on forms of life and facts in general in space. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because of what you say.” Martin seems fired up and eager to talk. He’s not the least scared off. He might in fact just be happy to talk about anything other than the topic of the oxygen.

  “So what does that mean you are here for?” Kurt joins the conversation.

  “I’m here because I want to see Extra-Terrestrial Beings. I’m certain they exist, and I’m determined to meet them.”

  “What do you know about ETB’s? Do you have any proof of their existence?” Kurt seems genuinely interested, and I’m happy to let him do the digging for me. I make a point of biting my tongue this time.

  “I’ve been on three Apollo trips before, and all kinds of weird shit happened each time, that I’m sure were caused by interference by ET’s. It must have been. I’m certain of it. But I’ve never seen one face to face. But every time we landed back on Earth, it was like everything we learned evaporated and was forgotten. Nothing was ever announced publicly about it, and we didn’t get interviewed for tv or papers or anything. Not even the other crew members wanted to talk about it or just keep in touch.” Martin sounds a little desperate.

  I suddenly get the impression he’s highly manic and somewhat panicked about it all. Quite the opposite of Rosie, he seems like he’ll not stop talking as long as anyone listens.

  “We should’ve been celebrated as heroes, and people should’ve wanted to hear about our experiences—but there was none of that. It’s like we were isolated by an invisible, yet impenetrable wall, that kept us from the rest of the world. Even from each other. I’ve been to space with several of the guys on this crew before, and still they treat me like a stranger.” Martin glances around the room at the other crew members.

  In Martin, I suddenly see some of the ‘peculiar’ qualities I always found in the rather conspicuous people in the media, who claimed to have seen aliens. All he needs is a hat and a week without a shower, and he’ll fit my description. I actually suspect he’s already gone a week without a shower. I wonder if he’s really reliable. He certainly seems lonely and desperate for connection with other people. Am I about to join his club as a freaky outsider on a ship where we were all supposed to be outsiders? Am I like Martin—an outsider amongst outsiders? You can’t get more outside than that...

  “I’ve been in space once before, but I didn’t experience anything particularly out of the ordinary. I collected samples, gathered data, and enjoyed the way the light seems to bend and behave differently away from Earth. I never saw any trace of ET Beings. But you’re right about how the crew members seem to keep to themselves.” Kurt pats Martin supportingly on t
he back.

  “Well, did the comms department on your vessel pick something up?” Martin leans in towards Kurt, impatient for an answer.

  “I never heard about anything, but I actually don’t know for sure. As you say, crew members generally seem to keep to themselves. And I was busy with my tasks, and didn’t spend a lot of time hanging around to have been able to notice what they were doing.” Kurt pauses for a while, and his eyes seems to gaze into the past.

  “Well there you go. They could’ve picked up all sorts of messages from ET’s without you ever hearing about it. Almost every time I’ve been out here, the comms department has picked up messages from ET’s. No one ever told me anything directly, but I’ve overheard things. Since I work with ventilation and air supply in all rooms, and never leave the vessel, it’s my job to hang around the ship all the time, and adjust the air supply. Whilst doing my job, I’ve overheard conversations, reports back to headquarters, and actual ET messages as they were picked up and recorded. And I’m telling you—they’re out there, and they’re communicating with us!” Martin’s eyes are wide open, but he keeps his voice down. Surely he doesn’t want anybody else to know that he’s the master of eavesdropping.

  “You’re right; I never heard what the comms department or other departments found. I just did my job and expected everyone to automatically tell me if they found something of interest.” Kurt continued. “So what did they say? Do you know what the ET messages were about?”

  “I’m not sure at all, since some of the messages were transmitted in a sort of binary code, so it needed to be calculated and translated by a computer before you could read it. It sounded like some sort of Morse code and not like language at all, so I never found out what the messages were saying.” Martin looks like his curiosity is killing him.

  “I see... so if the messages were binary, then how do you know if the messages were of ET origin and not originating from Earth?” Kurt still doesn’t seem convinced.