Chapter 28• Asteroidea
*Day 14 of Origenes Crisis*
/
Sleeping in space was…. jarring. Though I slept for about 8 hours.
I awoke in a panicked confusion and forcefully pushed the blanket off my body.
When it started floating, I remembered where I was.
We were told that microgravity was going to alter our sleep schedules eventually, just as it did humans.
I practically slid out of my compartment and stretched every inch of my body.
Arlo was at the controls and Weston was once again down in the lunar lander section.
I floated up to the front, knowing Arlo could tell it was me without even turning around.
"Good morning, sunshine! How was your first night?", he asked.
"Weird", I said before I ducked my head and sneezed.
What an odd feeling that was.
Weston heard and shouted, "Well, he's got the sickness. We tried…."
Arlo snickered, "Time to turn back I guess."
"Oh, please", I sneered, "If this is the sickest I feel on this trip, I'd count myself very fortunate."
"You aren't lyin' sir", Arlo said.
"You did sleep, didn't you?", I asked.
"I did- took a catnap right here in the chair, I just put the belt on", he replied.
"So, you're just not going to use your sleep station?", I questioned.
Arlo shook his head, "Not if I can help it, I've trained to the point where I can 'half-sleep', any slight beep can wake me– but only if I go to sleep anticipating something. That's going to be how I sleep once you two go down, I won't be able to just pass out. Once we separate, I'm on the clock 24/7. Technically, anyway."
I was silently thankful that NASA didn't make me the command module pilot.
"But half-sleeping isn't that uncommon", he went on, "Especially for firefighters and people in professions like that- I'm sure your friend- What's his name?"
I smiled, "His name's Marshall."
"Yeah Marshall, I'm sure he does it too!"
Arlo was spot on, Marshall would often half-sleep and jump awake at a mere change of scent on the wind.
I was about to sing his praises to Arlo when the crinkling of plastic behind me caused my soul to nearly jump out of my body.
"HOLY-", Arlo shouted and nearly jumped out of his seat.
"What's on Earth is the matter?", Weston asked, nonchalant.
"I didn't even hear you. Like- at all", I said, baffled.
"Really, that's odd. You're kinda young to be experiencing hearing loss like that…...", he said. I couldn't tell if he were being sarcastic.
"You gotta say something next time! Like- Hey guys, I'm silently floating from the lander to the seats for some reason", Arlo said.
"There are so many reflections around, there's no way that you two didn't pick up any movement at all", Weston laughed.
"You didn't touch anything, of course we wouldn't have heard", Arlo responded.
"You're like a ghost- or an owl", I said.
"I guess I'll take that as a compliment- Oh man….you both made me forget why I even came up here", Weston said.
Arlo burst out laughing and I chuckled. Though my heart was still racing, the whole sequence was just too funny.
"Wow, you two are actual goofballs", Weston said, almost like an older brother who'd spent too much time with family. But this time, there was no malice in his voice.
"Here", he said. Weston handed me a vacuum-sealed dog treat. It was mint-green and had ridges to fit between each and every tooth.
"Hmm", I said, having a pretty good idea of what it was. "Thanks."
Once I bit into it, it started to fizz and melt between my teeth.
By the time I had "Eaten" it, it felt as if I'd just used a half-gallon of mouthwash.
This was one of many ways that we'd look after our hygiene in space.
Arlo, who was in charge of keeping the schedule, reminded us that we should 'probably eat something'.
Breakfast, or rather the first of the three meals we were required to eat every day, was the equivalent of a large oat-bar.
Not the best, but not terrible either. It, just like our brownies and fruit, could be opened and eaten just how they come.
Other foods we'd eat, like steak or mac and cheese, required water to be added during prep since the food is dehydrated and needed to be heated in our oven.
But there was something that held a higher place of importance than our minimum 1,500 calories per day intake rule.
And that was exercise.
Under 'normal' circumstances, astronauts exercise an average of two hours per 'day' to prevent bone and muscle loss while living in microgravity.
There were two canine exercise bikes, one per each craft, to keep us in shape.
Lifting weights was a challenge on Earth, but it was a breeze in space's weightless environment.
Still, lifting a 150lb weight over my head surprised even me.
If anything, these were ways to kill time during our relatively uneventful coast to the moon.
Downtime wasn't anything new to me, but even I'd go crazy if all I had to break up the monotony was Spacecraft housekeeping and navigational checks (the latter would almost exclusively be handled by Arlo).
I had my own personal book of notes, a schematic guide that was small enough to fit inside the pocket in my suit.
As I had been doing, I began to run through my attack plan for the moon while I floated upside-down.
Arlo and Weston already informed me on Origenes' status- 'unchanged from the day before', according to Houston.
Soon, we all sat in our sleeping compartments at Arlo's suggestion. It was almost like we were in bunk beds at summer camp.
Said compartments, were situated in a column, vertically stacked on top of one another. Mine was in the middle, Weston's sat above mine and Arlo's sat below.
Every inch of the space had a use, so there wasn't a dedicated lounge area. Though if there were, I would have preferred a space near the window- as I found myself wanting to stare out of it for 15 minutes at a time. It was similar to a window seat on a plane, except there wasn't really much to look at aside from stars that varied in brightness. It still didn't feel like what I looked at was actually real.
I couldn't imagine an astronaut, human or canine, could make it during the seven months it would take to get to mars without a space to sit and talk.
You'd need more than a dozen books and/or boardgames to span that trip.
We didn't have a Public Affairs Office to keep us up to date on current events, so Arlo decided he'd fill that role.
He held up a tablet.
"Here's our 'virtual care package', I think most of these were uploaded before launchday….so two days ago", Arlo said before handing it to me.
I laughed.
The first pictures in the slideshow were of my dearest Adventure Bay decked in Green like some sort of half-Christmas.
Street-Signs, Banners, awnings- everything was my signature shade.
Weston, who was closest to the ceiling, peered over me and asked, "Did that make the stop-signs green too? That would be unsafe."
Weston's pseudo-sarcasm was back.
"Why did they make your color green anyway?" Arlo added.
"I don't mind answering a ton of questions, but you all may not like the boring answers", I replied.
"Sorry", they said together, aware that they sounded somewhat like drill sergeants.
"I don't mind one-word answers. Leaves more time for…uh-", Arlo said.
"Nothing, Arlo. There's literally nothing to do", Weston said as he rolled to his back and squeezed a stress ball.
I smiled, "Green is my color because it relates to Recycling. Or rather, people relate it to recycling. I'm sure you all know. And yes, I know recycling bins are blue sometimes, but it's the environmental aspect. Also, the stop signs are still red, Mayor Goodway would never let us change that."
"Mayor Goodway? That's a funny name, I can see why she got elected", Arlo said.
"Well, it helps that no-one runs against her. She's been Mayor ever since I started with the PAW Patrol", I said, then added, "really, ever since anyone can remember."
"Wait, so is the PAW Patrol something you're, like- born into? Like they pick you at birth, or is it like a volunteer thing?", Weston inquired.
I hesitated, unsure of how deeply I wanted to go into that question.
"For me, I was given the choice to join, and I accepted. I think we all had a choice", I said.
At least, I hoped.
Before Weston could push any further, Arlo changed the subject.
"There's just something about looking out and seeing the ocean, that's the thing I loved most about my time in Japan", Arlo started then looked up, "I hope I'm not boring you with this, Weston."
"Of course not. You can talk about whatever you want. I guess I was just prying, that's all", Weston replied, almost as if he were slightly disappointed.
"It looks like a nice town- Adventure Bay. If I were to retire, I'd probably pick a place like that", Weston added.
I smiled.
Ryder and the pups took pictures of almost everything, including my favorite café, the green flags up and down the slopes on Jake's Mountain, and the spot on the dock where I conducted my "first solo rescue."
Just for context, I wasn't even on-duty at that point. I was just on the dock with Ryder, this being within my first year of meeting him. Probably my first couple of months. As we sat there, a five-year old little boy on the dock leaned over the edge and lost his balance. To my eyes, he was about to fall into the embrace of a not-so conveniently placed Portuguese Man o' War (A stinging sea creature that kind of resembles a huge jellyfish). Turns out, it was actually a blue water bottle that had its label ripped off. But still, better safe than sorry.
Scale-wise, I was small enough that me and the child probably weighed the same. However, that didn't stop me from grabbing him but the back of his pants as he dangled over the side and using every ounce of my miniature determination to pull him back to "safety."
It was- well, an 'adorable' moment that I don't reminisce on too frequently due to my embarrassment.
Still, the others were proud of me, seeing this as my first step towards actually joining the PAW Patrol, which I did. Whether I liked it or not, that was my "first solo rescue."
I scrolled until my pictures turned into Weston's.
I briefly saw a shot of Weston's family of Shiba Inu's holding up a good luck banner before I attempted to hand it up to him.
"I'd rather wait to see them once we start the journey back. That's gonna be the morale cliff, at least for me", Weston said.
"Hang on, can we go back a second?", Arlo asked.
"Hmm?", said Weston.
"What you just said, about retiring", Arlo pressed.
"Retiring? Oh, yeah. I mean- can't do it forever, right?", Weston reasoned.
"Well, of course. But you're so young. Don't you eventually want to command your own mission like this someday?", Arlo asked.
"Oh, sure….um, I guess that just slipped out. Don't worry about it", Weston said.
I almost wanted to pry and ask Weston where he was from and what it was like, but it didn't seem like the right time.
In any case, Arlo once again moved things along.
"Well, I guess I'll hold onto this until they send anything else. Besides, my wife sent me some pictures too. Probably ones that only I should see", Arlo said with a suggestive chuckle.
I don't think Weston and I felt compelled to challenge whether that was a joke or not. But soon, I was asked another question.
Or rather, both Weston and Arlo asked different questions at the same time, talking over one another.
"Sorry commander, you go first", Weston jokingly conceded.
"How many lives do you think you've saved?", Arlo asked.
I thought for a moment, "Three, I think, maybe four. If we're talking about me acting by myself. With all of us working in a group, though, I think we're looking at a number in the thirties or forties."
The two looked intrigued.
"Oh, my question's really stupid now", Weston said with an uncomfortable giggle.
"Please just ask it", Arlo said.
Weston looked around and grabbed what we dubbed the "boombox" for the first time.
"Weston, the key to teamwork is transparency!", Arlo jokingly pressed, though it did seem like he genuinely wanted to know what his question was.
"Later. First…", Weston said as he flicked the power switch, "We need music."
Our quiet environment filled with sound, and I felt immediately better.
We had been gifted this special radio, which was not anything like a real boombox, though it was much bulkier than I expected.
Despite its appearance, it featured a tiny analog display that scrolled one letter at a time at a terribly slow rate. By the time you could even read the name of the artist featured, their song would likely already be over.
I wanted to ask what year it was made but held back at the risk of sounding ungrateful.
Pretty soon we went from work acquaintances to friends commenting on the songs we were hearing. Very rarely did someone feel the need to skip over a song that was too painful to listen to.
"I haven't heard this song in years- that's crazy!"
"Don't you dare skip this one, it's a classic."
"I swear, every time I go into a convenience store that sells live bait, this song is playing- don't ask me why!"
"I'm sensing a theme here, this has to be the same group as last song."
It was nice; us completely losing track of time as we tossed the radio between one another in our weightless home away from home.
Even when the time came for two of us to hop on the exercise bikes, the conversations continued.
It wasn't that we had much of a choice but to talk to each other given the close quarters and the lack of a clear goal, but it was still a fun time.
Or maybe 'refreshing' is a better word.
Now that we had some autonomy and didn't feel super compelled to keep up the NASA ultra-professionalism, a great deal of the pressure was lifted.
At one point, "Don't fear the reaper" came on the radio.
"That's kind of a scary song to put on the playlist, don't you think?", Weston said.
"Oh, yeah. I guess a song like that had to come sooner or later. People like to sing about death I guess", Arlo reasoned.
"And it's by the Grateful dead too, so it's kinda… double-bad."
Arlo blinked, "Oh please tell me you're joking."
Weston stared blankly.
"So, I'm missing something I guess?", Weston said, obviously aware that he was mistaken.
Arlo burst into a laughing fit and let go of the exercise bike he was on. Instead of falling off of it, he just floated off of the seat, covering his face to suppress himself.
"Wait, so it's not the Grateful dead?", Weston asked.
"Nooooo", Arlo wheezed through his laughs.
His laugh was pretty contagious, so I started to giggle.
"I mean, I could have made that mistake too, nothing to be ashamed of", I said.
Not that Weston wanted my pity.
"I wish I could play a Grateful Dead song for you right now, you'd realize instantly that they aren't even close in sound", Arlo said, still laughing.
"Fine, just laugh at the guy with less musical experience", Weston said as he made a face I can only describe as a pout.
Arlo regained his composure, "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to shame you or anything, it's just a funny mix-up. Rocky's right."
It was all in good fun. Our spirits remained high, as they should have been.
…
It was sometime later that Weston finally got back to the question he never got to ask.
"Hey, so. You all live pretty close to the beach, yeah?", he asked.
"Sure, you could walk there in about 5 minutes", I replied.
"But there are some people who live right on the beach, correct?", he asked.
"Well, it's more business than residencies down there, but there are probably apartments somewhere now", I said, "the town kinda keeps growing."
"Have you ever had anyone sleepwalk, just right out into the water?", Weston asked.
"Hmm, that actually is a good question", Arlo said.
It baffled me how similarly Arlo and Weston thought, and how drastically different their thought processes were to mine.
"Well, Um…. only ever Marshall, actually", I said, slightly concerned that I was telling too much of the PAW Patrol's business to other people.
Arlo chuckled, probably imagining us steering an incoherent Marshall back to his pup-house at 3am.
It would be just about accurate.
"I can't believe you're actually here though. Like, that Kingsley actually found you", Arlo said, making me sound like a celebrity.
I was curious. "How much did you know about the PAW Patrol before this?", I asked.
"I knew enough- I remembered which color you were", Arlo said.
"Mmmh", Weston added, his face buried in some wires in the corner.
I figured that was some sort of agreement.
"I guess, it's true what they say, 'There's talent in every zip code'. You're probably up there with NASA engineers that have been training for years", Arlo said.
"Well, we'll see won't we", I said.
We still had a journey to complete before I could prove them right or wrong. But I resisted the urge do yet another panicked readthrough of my notes to ensure I was getting more 'ready' by the minute.
"You bet we will! Right West!?", Arlo said, trying to rope him back into the conversation.
I was certain a part of Weston still couldn't believe I was actually there, but the reality had to set in soon.
Arlo silently tossed a stress ball that floated toward Weston. I was sure that it would bonk him on the head, since there was no way to hear it coming, but Weston managed to perfectly catch it with his paw without even looking up from what he was doing.
"Mmm hmm", he replied sarcastically.
"It was worth a try", Arlo shrugged.
He smiled at me, and I smiled too.
I guess we were having so much fun that we nearly skipped our second meal.
In time, our stomachs would remind us.
*** End of Ch. 28***