It is not a short story as it has no tidy ending, and I may just have to write the rest of the story before too long, but I hope you enjoy a glimpse into Myra’s world. 

Spacers

'Hi, kiddo, you got a message for someone?' An arm encased in silver spacer gear blocks the doorway.

I swallow my sigh. 'No. I'm spacing with the rest of you.'

 ‘No way. We’re that desperate for recruits we are picking kids?’

I try to smile and tap my ID.

‘Oh, space cows. Sorry Myra, you’re kinda small for eleven.’ She stands next to me and leans her elbow on my shoulder. ‘Not seen you in classes.’

‘I’m from colony six.’ I look down so I don’t see the pity in her eyes.

‘Welcome. Name’s Sim.’ She glances at several lists on the wall. ‘You’re assigned to green team. My team. Kits over there.’ She gestures across the room.

I nod and hurry to find the locker with my name. My hands slip on the keypad. I wipe them on my trousers. Second time lucky.

‘Hey Sim.’

I flinch at the familiar voice. Please, not here. Not today. My luck didn’t last long.

 ‘See you’ve got puker on your team,’ Panoa continues.

My stomach clenches, echoing her choice of words, and a rumble of laughter chases me to the toilet. I didn’t eat supper or breakfast, but I still retch.

I splash my face with precious water, but I can’t wash away the fear.

Sim greets me at the door and walks across the room next to me.

‘Myra, this your first time?’ I am grateful for the kindness in her tone.

‘Yeah.’ I clench my hands into fists to hide my trembling.

‘Don’t matter how many times I space, the nerves are there.’ Sim holds her hands out towards me. They are shaking. Not as much as mine, but it’s there.

I manage a small grin.

‘Being a little nervous is a good thing, keeps you attentive. You’ll be fine, I’ve never lost a team member.’ She turns away from me and I’m glad because I shiver. I’ve heard those words before.

‘Ten minutes to airlock,’ Sim calls, ‘Shout if you need any help.’

I pull my suit from the locker and ignore Panoa who is telling the room about my first Zero-G experience. The chamber had to be vacuum cleaned three times before we were allowed back in. I had to wear a helmet with a vomit tube. That was five years ago and a million miles away, but she won’t let me forget.

I force my shaking legs into the suit, it’s heavier than I remember it being in practise.

‘Six minutes to airlock.’ Sim strides past as if her suit is made of silk. ‘Come on team, we lose points if we’re late.’ She helps others with their fixings, and glances at me.

I wipe my hands and give her a lopsided grin. I can do this. Boots on, and I close the fixings before the sweat builds up on my palms. My suit is on. I test the helmet, closing my eyes and counting to ten, forcing the claustrophobia away. I pull it off slowly. I will not panic.

‘One minute.’

‘Got your vomit tube?’ Panoa thumps my shoulder as she passes, and I almost drop my helmet. ‘Would hate to see you drown in your own puke.’ She waves her team past me, and they chuckle at her words.

Sim stands next to her at the airlock door. ‘You’d better hope your helmet has a vomit tube Panoa. You’ll be spinning trying to keep track of my team.’

Sim thinks she’s helping. She isn’t. I’ll pay for this later. The airlock light turns green. ‘At least my team know how to fix their suits correctly,’ she says and points at Panoa’s belt.

Panoa looks down and swears before redoing her fixings. We walk past and into the airlock. She won’t do it in time. Panoa’s team will start in second place. Her eyes narrow and send hatred in my direction. Sim said team. Panoa heard Myra.

The door closes behind us. Helmets go on. Sim checks them and attaches us to a cord. My heart is pounding, and tears threaten. I can’t dig my nails into my palms to stop them, the gloves are too thick. Count, girl.

‘Breath with me.’ I Jump as Sim’s voice blasts my ears, and my hands fly up only to hit into my helmet. I lose a few heartbeats before adjusting the volume. There are giggles of relieved tension. I was not the only one.

‘Now you have remembered to adjust your volume you need to choose who you want to listen to, but I advise you keep all channels open with mine as override priority.’

I eye-point at the controls on the visor and take Sim’s advice.

The airlock light flashes amber before turning green. The outer door light is also green, and my suit is no longer heavy. I grab the cord. I can’t do this. I squirm at the wetness between my legs. It is absorbed almost immediately. 

Mum will want a full report on comfort when I return. She was the chief designer for colony six and this is the first time her recent modifications have been implemented here. She didn’t expect me to be one of the first to test them. She doesn’t want me to be a spacer. I wish her arguments had stopped me from signing up.

‘Myra there is no need for you to do this, there are many other career choices for you. You are so clever, why not specialise in navigation? Or join me in the design department, you have a knack of seeing what should be obvious but is often overlooked. Myra, honey, you have nothing to prove.’

She tried every tactic and reasoning possible but choosing to do this is not about proving anything. 

‘We won’t be given our tasks until we have assembled at the first point.’ I concentrate on Sim’s voice and push away the memories of my Mum’s worried face. ‘You all have a map on your visor. Note the direction we need to travel in. It is best if we all go the same way.’

We laugh.

‘You may laugh but it can be disorientating. Okay. Team, let’s go.’ She touches the door pad and the vastness of space beckons.

It’s too late to turn back. There are gasps, whimpers, and whoops of joy as we float out of the safety of the space station.

I am silent.

Our neat line tangles as we drift in different directions. Those who have been out before wait for the rest of us to orientate. My display shows we’ve to move in the opposite direction to the spin, but my flailing arms and legs fail to co-ordinate.

‘Be still, breath, and find a handhold.’ Sim’s simple words penetrate my brain.

I see a handhold above my head. Or is that below. I have no idea which way is up. There is no up. I let go of the cord and grasp the handhold, too fast, my body follows and slams into the side of the station.

‘Ouf. The padding works Mum,’ I say.

‘Myra, how y’doing?’

My heart leaps. Lucas? I swivel. Where? How?

‘Myra, can you hear me. Sim, has she turned on her…’

It’s not Lucas. Of course, it’s not. I swallow and breath. ‘I’m okay. Crash landed, a little winded.’

‘Me too, and I’ve been out here before,’ he says, and I focus on the tone of his voice. He sounds nothing like Lucas. I blink away a tear and see his name flash on my screen. Mattieu

‘If the new padding is your Mum’s idea, thank her for me.’ I nod.

‘Myra? Are you there?’

‘Sorry, Mattieu. Guess you didn’t see my nod.’

He laughs. ‘We all do it. Look to your left and I’ll wave.’ I see him next in line to Sim and wave back.

‘Okay team, time to move on.’ Sim says. ‘Use your feet to push and your hands to grasp. Blue team will be exiting shortly, let’s not lose our lead.’

Focus Myra and you can do anything. Now that is his voice and I smile at the memory of his words. We move, as a team.

I push the past behind me with my feet and pull my future closer with my gloved hands.

I’m going to be a spacer and I’m going to find answers.