‘Mission report, September 17th, 1972. Artemis day... 15. 16. No water supply, oxygen tank running at 27%, no sign of light or life, Lieutenant Jakobs to Ground Control... over.’
I turned off the signalling light. If the clock still works, it is currently 3 AM in Greenwich. I am sitting alone in this giant space tin can, which should have become a piece of garbage one week ago. Next to the spacecraft is the dark side of the moon, where no man has gone before. I guess I will be the first and the last.
I was just looking at the tiny cactus on the table. I could have killed it to drink its juice and water, but it is my only living companion. Just like The Little Prince and his arrogant rose, we will be together forever. The cactus has no idea where he is right now. How funny.
You are probably wondering how and why I ended up here, alone in space. 10 days ago, Captain James Young and I were supposed to abandon the craft and get to get to the new, never-been-used Artemis Space Station, right at the edge of the dark side of the Moon. Just as the sun rises and we see the eclipse of heaven, we lost control of the new rev engine and fell into the dark abyss the Moon. Signals were lost and we could not contact Ground Control. The problem with the Artemis mission is that they assumed we are safe out in space. With the combined experience of 40 years of space travelling, Capt. Young and I were confident in going without communication devices. To think about it, people on Earth have no idea that we are failing the mission.
Capt. Young insisted on conducting a spacewalk to fix the engine. On the edge of darkness, full of silence and sadness, she went out and never came back. We were familiar with the environment, but without the sunlight, there is no way out. There was nothing else she could do. There is nothing else I could do.
It has been 10 days since Capt. Young went out. Alone in space is terrifying, to say the least. I am far from home, far from Planet Earth, far from everyone, and everything I own. Where is Artemis when you need her? Perhaps even the Goddess of the Moon cannot save me now. The universe works in the most peculiar, mysterious ways.
Talking to the cactus is great though. It understands me most profoundly and humanely possible. Out in the darkness, I could sense my daughter’s voice, telling me to come home soon. Don’t think twice now, I would kill to see them again for the last time. All I have is a packet of dried apples, one useless pot of mini cactus and the rest of this great, revering space.
The stars, in their grand multitude, are silently keeping watch in the night. Suddenly, I see a light ray coming out from the rear window of the ship; it was gorgeously flowing in space, tip-toeing down the cold, hard glass of the ship. I could not see it clearly with my mortal eyesight, but I was sure that it had came upon me. It was the Little Prince’s final wish. Was that the gentle stride of the burning sun? Or the path to paradise? Take me away, my old friend. Do whatever you shall do.
Back in the training school of NASA, before I was even a pilot, my commander officer has always told me that it takes a man honour and courage to become an astronaut. It was not about the uniform, or the press or even Space. It was about the duty of being the first of everything, the duty of sacrifice. I was young and naïve back then, thinking that getting this job was just to fulfil my childhood dreams. My heart was an open book, and I told myself, ‘Come what may. I am fearless and honourable.’ But soon after getting married and having children, I started to fright. I cannot afford to lose them.
I used the dried-apples’ packet to fold a paper crane. On top, I wrote down, ‘To my love adieu I love you to the Moon and back to my daughters sorry Daddy could not come back for dinner’.
Cactus, I will be taking a nap now. Just a short one. Wake me up when we reach home.