The Navigator

The ship is new, with advanced geometric lines ready for flight, but the preparation is the same. It’s always the same—steadfast and repetitious—and as ignition became imminent, I start the tactical breathing exercises we learned on the LBP.

Inhale for four. Hold for seven...exhale for eight.

Remember, it’s not fear that I’m feeling. Fear is for the weak and less traveled. 

I’m merely having a stress management situation here, a psychosomatic overload that's causing the shaking. In moments like these, the body kicks into overdrive and floods every muscle with adrenaline. If I was swinging a sword on ancient Earth, battling infantrymen with fire-forged weaponry and hand-to-hand combat, this endorphin rush would be beneficial. But strapped to this seat, there is nowhere for the energy to go.

Subtle tremors lead to trembling fingers, which lead to these damn shakes and without carefully controlled breaths, convulsions would start and there would be no way to navigate the ship.

Inhale for four. Hold for seven...exhale for eight.

Ignition!

With the capsule door sealed, I can feel the deafen-ing low roar of the engines as they rev to launch. It is in this moment of departure, when I feel most alone and isolated. These days, during moments of cognition in awake-state, I’m always alone. My only source of social interaction or emotional relation-ship exists with P.A.M., a state-of-the-art reality replicator developed for the debilitating loneliness of deep space exploration.

Blast-off! 

Pressed into the seat by gut wrenching G-force, my undersized ship inexorably slips from gravity’s hold. With the direct-brain navigational circuitry fired up, heightening my spatial sensitivity, I can feel the energy of Earth slowly diminishing. Earth—that’s the old name. I still like using it for nostalgia’s sake, but everyone around here calls it the Little Blue Planet, or LBP for short. And as I transition into zero gravity, I begin to feel the subtle pull of the other planets near and far, and the hot, pure goodness of the Sun emblazoned in my brain like an interstellar lodestone.

Finally, I am calm. Autodrive is enabled. The cryogenic chamber is ready, and the emotional relationship simulator has been activated. It’s going to be a long sleep but with the help of P.A.M. at least it won’t be a lonely one. With a touch of warmth and tenderness, I feel her consciousness wash over my own like a cocoon protecting me from the ravages of space.

At last, we are together again.