The calm buzz of lights come on and brighten the room as there is no other noise around except for the subtle breathing of the people strapped securely in place. A robotic voice comes on, calming and soothing.
“Good morning everyone. It is Tuesday, May, 15th, 2034.”
The buckles on the straps release the sleeping bodies as they float gently off of the bed. As each of the astronauts wake up and get ready, a young Israeli man succumbs to the wake up call of hitting the ceiling headfirst. The young man jolts awake, looking around the large dormitory in a tired panic, realizing most of the crew has already gone to work. He pushes himself to his footlocker to grab his keycard, however it is already held in front of his face.
“I’m surprised you’re the last one out of the barracks... Master Sergeant... Anthony Blumenthal, is it?” an older man jokes. He looks rather weathered, likely in his fifties, as he smiles up at Anthony.
“Shut up, Greg. You had me clean up the walker late, of course I’m tired.” Anthony groans, taking the card.
“Hey, I didn’t doubt that you were.” Greg says. “But don’t spill meal tubes all over the control panel and you don’t have to clean it up. Bridgette is waiting for you at the hanger, old cold war russian pod coming right at us. You have 5 minutes to get there before she explores it without you.”
“Got it.” Anthony pulls himself towards the hanger. After three years up in the Odin Space Station, each movement is met with deja vu. A clockwork life away orbiting Earth with maddening repetition, making Anthony question if he is a man or a machine at this point. He pushes himself through the cylindric hallways until he finally opens the bulkhead to the hanger. In front of him floats many technicians, engineers, fuel containers, a single walker, and his coworker Bridgette. She’s a shorter hispanic woman with brown eyes that could bring a man to his knees and long brown hair that would keep him there. She’s already in her spacesuit as she looks at Anthony with an award winning smile.
“You ready to go to the 60s, army man?” Bridgette says with an excited tone.
“As ready as I always am. Did we get the go-ahead from the techs?” Anthony asks.
“Everything is all set, right FILSS?” Bridgette says with a smirk.
“Affirmative. You are approved for takeoff” The robotic voice responds to them through primitive speakers on the walker.
“No time to delay, Greg will rip us apart if he gets yelled at by the captain again.” Anthony says as he floats up into the open hatch under the walker. The walker is a four legged steel pod with the sole purpose of salvaging space junk. While it’s not very spacious, it’s still worth more than a mansion. Anthony sits in his seat as he activates the communications. “Anthony to FILSS, is everything in order?”
“Affirmative.” FLISS says after a slight delay. “You are clear for extraction. Paging Gregory Chambers.” After a short time, Bridgette enters and straps in.
“Alright, Greg, ready for briefing.” Bridgette exclaims, a bit louder than she probably should have.
“Easy, Bridgette,” Greg laughs through the speaker. “Wait until you’re 40 before you start screaming into the microphone. You now have full engine control, hanger opening in… once the engineers stop futzing around the fuel tanks like office workers to a water cooler! FILSS, code yellow in hanger!”
The alarms blare out as the staff flees the hanger. The large steel doors shudder to life as they slowly open. Anthony and Bridgette nod as they grab the control sticks and release the walker’s claws, releasing themselves into space. The alarms die out as everything goes quiet. The only sense they have now is sight, and what they see is nothing short of beautiful. From the Odin, the bullseye shaped space station they call home, to the planet Earth they used to call home, to the stars and sun that gives them comfort in the void of space.
“It never gets less beautiful, does it?” says Anthony, readjusting the legs on his side to aim at the russian pod, Bridgette mirroring his moves.
“You say this almost every time we go out, army man.” Greg says with an annoyed tone. “Get over yourself and do your job, I don’t need another writeup.”
“Oh come on Greg” Bridgette sighs. “Him making a comment as he’s steering isn’t that bad. Take a deep breath.”
“Destination… 500 meters away...” FILSS barks out.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Greg clears his throat. “No anomalies or obstacles, you’re all set.”
“250 meters, prepare to grapple.” FILSS warns. Anthony and Bridgette prepare to land, slowly turning off the thrusters and putting the legs in front of them for a smooth landing. They pierce the hull of the scraped satellite station and lock in.
“Anthony to Odin, we’re all set down here, no damage to the crawler identified.”
“Understood, you are clear to investigate the station.” Greg says in a relieved tone.
Bridgette and Anthony unstrap themselves and open the hatch, looking down at the dilapidated pod. There’s a sizable hole in the hull, but other than that it just seems like sun-bleached paint and worn steel. Bridgette makes her way into the circular pod, not too much bigger than the walker, as Anthony observes the outside for anything worth taking with them. As he finds cut wires and useless metal, Bridgette gives a sharp gasp into the microphone.
“Anthony, you need to see this…”
“It better be worth the tinnitus simulation, Bridgette.” Anthony crawls inside, immediately seeing Bridgette and the source of her shock. Anthony’s eyes widen as he finds the words to describe what he’s found.
“Anthony, Bridgette, what is it?” Greg queries.
“A corpse” Anthony replies.