Flung out into the furthest reaches of the inner Solar
System. I feel like I can see the asteroid belt from here, although we’re
merely in Mars orbit. A week – a full week just to get to this tiny red spot of
a planet.
Floating endlessly. No magnetic boots, we don’t want to screw up the circuits. We are all nauseous and disoriented, even Zariah. She says this is normal. I never want to get used to this.
Ihsan and I planted seeds in the storage bay, to get seedlings. Nothing has sprouted yet. I’m worried we may not have anything ready when we get to Europa. I try to remind myself that we still have two weeks.
We have all started taking inventory. Staying in smaller rooms, full of containers, together, helps us forget about the stomach-churning, constant floating.
We have only 200,000 octopus eggs. I know that in nature, these creatures lay around that many, but species that lay many eggs often do not see many surviving offspring. I remember that from school. I suspect we will actually have between 5 and 20 octopus hatchlings to raise. I wonder if we should start a few of those eggs on their way to gestation. I will need to look at life cycle information again.
At least there are no natural predators on Europa. That will help survival rates.
Samira has stayed buckled into a bicycle for most of this week. Her eyes are forward on a screen, looking at some sort of movie or clip of open air, trees, water, mountains – things she will never see again. As long as it keeps her from vomiting, and keeps her mind at ease, then so be it. She rejected Budur’s comforting, although Zariah has begun to join her in the exercise room.
There is not much else. All of our internal systems are stable; it is our bodies that are not.
We will not land on Mars, although I think we all would like to feel solid ground and some sort of gravity again. At least these suits keep our muscles taut.
We are hesitating briefly in the thin Martian stratosphere, and we will spend a day sling-shotting around the planet, then out toward Europa. I do not think I will be in contact again. If there were anything other than complaining going on, I would write about it. We do not even knit because we are so tired – mental and emotional fatigue – so instead we work out, stretch, look over storage containers, and sleep.
Sleep is the only relief so far, and even that is not as good as it was on Earth.
Floating endlessly. No magnetic boots, we don’t want to screw up the circuits. We are all nauseous and disoriented, even Zariah. She says this is normal. I never want to get used to this.
Ihsan and I planted seeds in the storage bay, to get seedlings. Nothing has sprouted yet. I’m worried we may not have anything ready when we get to Europa. I try to remind myself that we still have two weeks.
We have all started taking inventory. Staying in smaller rooms, full of containers, together, helps us forget about the stomach-churning, constant floating.
We have only 200,000 octopus eggs. I know that in nature, these creatures lay around that many, but species that lay many eggs often do not see many surviving offspring. I remember that from school. I suspect we will actually have between 5 and 20 octopus hatchlings to raise. I wonder if we should start a few of those eggs on their way to gestation. I will need to look at life cycle information again.
At least there are no natural predators on Europa. That will help survival rates.
Samira has stayed buckled into a bicycle for most of this week. Her eyes are forward on a screen, looking at some sort of movie or clip of open air, trees, water, mountains – things she will never see again. As long as it keeps her from vomiting, and keeps her mind at ease, then so be it. She rejected Budur’s comforting, although Zariah has begun to join her in the exercise room.
There is not much else. All of our internal systems are stable; it is our bodies that are not.
We will not land on Mars, although I think we all would like to feel solid ground and some sort of gravity again. At least these suits keep our muscles taut.
We are hesitating briefly in the thin Martian stratosphere, and we will spend a day sling-shotting around the planet, then out toward Europa. I do not think I will be in contact again. If there were anything other than complaining going on, I would write about it. We do not even knit because we are so tired – mental and emotional fatigue – so instead we work out, stretch, look over storage containers, and sleep.
Sleep is the only relief so far, and even that is not as good as it was on Earth.
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