To infinity and beyond

Nika IarovaiaПортфолио

The phrase "to infinity and beyond" was nothing new to people, but they could fully comprehend it only after a series of studies led by the Space University of N. Another galaxy was discovered during the experiments directed to search for life on the shade side of Pluto. As soon as the news had reached the Earth, Moon, and colonized Mars, the scientists from the settled planets started to conflict about the right to investigate the substance the space tunnel consisted of. In the end, it turned out that the substance was just charged air. Since the serum which could split people and equipment into molecules had already been invented, the first expedition of astronauts was set not long after testing the spaceship of the new generation.
The crew included 6 people and an automatic operant G-17. The training was held on a secret base with no specific location. That was done to avoid leaking the information because the preparation methods for the first intergalactic journey had to remain completely classified.
The travelers signed the agreement on the remission of the claim in emergency cases for formal reasons only. Certainly, there was no possible way such emergencies could happen. All the devices worked perfectly; the rocket’s digital system dealt with any kinds of aims, rebooted if it faced problems, and could be easily controlled by the crew members.
The list of unspoken formalities also included situations such as distress that can not be cured or death because of unknown (or known) viruses — in this case, the diseased had to leave the spaceship; a mental disorder or mental effect — the astronaut was supposed to stay in the isolation cell of the spacecraft. Although the rules were strict, no one obeyed them properly. Medicine had already made great strides by inventing a cure for all diseases.
The unnamed rocket of the latest design was launched on September 15th from the spaceport "Australia-1 1". Its gigantic size and the ideal facilities shocked even the experienced engineers who weren't working on the invention of the "perfection of the human brain."
After the space vehicle had gone through the stratosphere, astronauts were allowed to move across the spacecraft’s compartments. Getting used to the gravity loads and rarefied air, astronauts began to concentrate on their personal aims: controlling the operative condition of the equipment, asserting the required medicines, studying the spatial position of the ship, and communicating with other space objects.
John Brown, the only crew member with an old peculiarity as a name, was entrusted to stenograph the space travel. As the man of the past, Brown decided to keep a logbook in paper form.
The fact that John agreed to participate in an experimental program to explore another galaxy shocked even his family, another outdated tradition held by the astronaut. Despite such a traditional Australian lifestyle, the decision was made, and it would be reckless to turn back to Earth. Thus the test results were perfect, which meant that only the named individual was needed for the expedition.
John could easily manage with a heavy workload, acted steadily and quickly in case of an emergency. He was a brilliant map-constructor, who could orient in the space with no difficulty. Although these skills were not as important as the ability to control the spaceship, Brown was connected to the already-formed crew.
The astronaut used the absence of gravity to maneuver across the vessel. It was more difficult for him to get used to writing, but John managed to succeed in it too.
September 16th. The rocket reached the stratosphere. The medical inspection didn't discover any health deterioration of the astronauts. The system works unchanging. The ship's functions are in perfect order. No danger on the side of the space objects. J.B.
September 30th. The crew attempted to work in the open space for control purposes. It turned out that some orbital debris had gotten into the protective grid. The measures were taken. J.B.
But, being a man of his time, overwhelmed with feelings, John Brown couldn't help turning the journal into a personal diary. Now Brown was more interested in writing about his feelings rather than about the condition of the ship.
October 30th. You get used to the monotony as time passes. You are no longer intimidated by the meteorites that are about to hit the spaceship. There is no way out: you either stay calm or force yourself to forget everything. And no ability to come back. The ship is in prime condition. The expedition follows the instructions. J.B.
November 27th. The misunderstanding developed within the crew. Nobody listens to each others' opinions forgetting about the give-and-take lessons. Nobody advises with the control center or tries to speak about the situation. The automatic operant g-17, who has hastily mastered only the basic human relationships, continues learning more and more about people's behavior and copies our manner of speaking and our habits. It couldn't happen according to the scientists' predictions. The system works great. All the inconspicuous failures were corrected. J.B.
February 13th. The argument between the main engineer and the microbiologist happened after the subsequent space sally. Thankfully, no violence was used. At this rate, we'd rather fly into outer space than reach the tunnel of a new galaxy.
We are the only intelligent life form within a radius of a billion miles, losing the invisible connection with the left-behind society is an impossible luxury for us. Every day I see familiar faces and hear familiar voices, phrases, deadly memorized, meaningless conversations, annoying silence.
When you look out of the illuminator, you notice the all-absorbing blackness and tiny lights of the faraway stars. This scenery doesn't bring amazement, on the contrary, it awakened an underlying sadness, but there is no escaping it. The desired aim of exploring the newly found galaxy is becoming more and more unachievable. J.B.
June 1st. We are almost there. The relationships inside the crew are changing from day to day. It is hard to believe in success, but disbelief is forbidden. Losing with faith in triumph is better than losing faith. J.B.
September 17th. A year passed and the expedition never made it to Pluto. I forgot why I agreed to this. Scared and cold. As seconds go by, unproductive attempts to show the world that people can settle in one more galaxy seem increasingly naive. Our society spends a tremendous amount of time and effort to gain cheap fame. Each of us wants to make a statement, shine the brightest. And I am not the exception. We are all dreaming about people's acceptance, whose lives, in our opinion, are not as important. J.B.
December 9th. Why doesn't anyone trust the supreme forces these days? Higher forces were replaced by a powerful government, gods of doings and sayings. The duty of controlling has been cast for them, and we must obey the rules. Why don't I believe in the supreme forces? J.B.
December 24th. I am starting to see dreadful faces behind the illuminator's glass. They are nothing but figments of my imagination, I know. Really lonely here. J.B.
February 8th. The meteor has hit one of the drives. The expedition wasn't ready for this. The automatic operant cried. How? Society. In such a flight, you discover new, previously unknown emotions.
And I am trying to run away from the sound that is getting through the spacecraft’s skin. Maybe it's just the little brave drummers relentlessly drumming on my eardrums. J.B.
January 30th. Somebody is reading my reports, I am sure of it. For what? Why? A diary is the writer's own deal and no one else’s. Somebody wants to steal my thoughts, change them, mix them. Ruin them. Hell no. J.B.
I am not sure what the date is today, as I am not sure why they put me into the diseased compartment. The crew escorted me to the punishment cell, tied me to the bed, made me swallow a pill. I managed to steal the journal and a pencil. Quiet. J.B.
The going was rough, the inner voice suggested that we had gone through the tunnel - reached the new dimension. Unfortunately, it's gloomy here and I'm bound hand and foot.
Isolated and offended. Am I out of my mind?
Stinks insane. It must be some kind of pheromones in this galaxy's air. The automatic operant, having another existential crisis, brought pills. I asked him about the situation - nothing. He sighed deeply at my question about the cartography. J.B.
I am so dumb! Replying aloud to the voices? No wonder that the expedition thinks I'm crazy. But how am I supposed to hold a conversation if not out loud?
Looks like we are flying again. Although I wasn't informed of the reasons for such a quick return, I figured it out: the galaxy doesn't fit the desired standards.
Anything could change the scientists' conclusion: the climate, the lack of water, even the soil structure. People of science are only capable of judging. J.B.
Chatter turns to laughter, laughter turns to crying. Surprisingly, I don't regret the lost opportunity of being the first man in the new dimension. I was not ready and I will never be ready. Blindness is scary. J.B.
I am not allowed to trust walls, they are reading me like an open book, competent and flexible. They shut the last lamp off. The lead pencil is almost over, it would be a miracle if I could continue writing. J.B.
I haven't heard the crew shouting in a while. Nobody has been whispering lately. Working in complete silence. It is becoming difficult to put words into sentences, constantly want to sleep. J.B.
I must record the most important facts about the journey. Firstly, no one got hurt (at least during my living in the main space compartment), died, or went insane. Except, perhaps, for my “obfuscation”. Secondly, I haven't had a chance to make a map of a new galaxy. The crew may have fulfilled my duties, but given how little time we've spent exploring this dimension, I hold out little hope. Third, space travel, especially long space travel, does not contribute to the development of your personal qualities, but rather etches out the remnants of human intelligence and organizational abilities, turning you into a laboratory animal.
The padded walls are getting closer with each passing moment. I'm scared. I have to close my eyes.
Composure - is a curtain, a mask for despair and fierce sadness.
Truly furious, John Brown, the member of the first intergalactic expedition "Conqueror".
The expedition found that the “new dimension” was inhabited, no specific reason was given. The intergalactic tunnel has closed its gates for everyone, the “Conqueror's” crew was tabooed to publicize any information about the travel. John Brown ended up in the mental hospital, diagnosed with “reactive schizophrenia”. Soon the man was found dead in his ward.
No named people existed after John Brown. His family abandoned such status and became independent members of society.
The few fragments of the ship's logbook, somehow stolen from the vessel, were never published openly but became only an article in an unpopular magazine.
We are the people who administer justice and break the law; enforcers of order and creators of chaos; the most intelligent, yet incapable of understanding each other. We are the ones who believe in miracles and deny baseless facts. We have discovered a new galaxy but could not enslave it all because we are the people.