Page 29 of Between Earth and Eternity
I tilt my head, waiting for an explanation.
He clears his throat. “I think I sensed it was coming, so when my name was read, it was oddly comforting.”
I can’t help it, I start to laugh. At first, he’s shocked, but then he joins in, trying to understand what he’s missing out on.
“Was that too weird?” he asks, slightly embarrassed.
“No. It’s not that. I had the opposite experience,” I say, trying to stifle my laugh.
“Elaborate please?”
I could simply not indulge him, but what’s the harm?
“I am terrified of space.”
He takes in my response for a second. “I think we’re all a little scared of space travel to an extent.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I never want to leave Earth. I’m pretty sure it’s a phobia, and I truly mean phobia.” I swallow. “I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that out loud before, never attached an actual label to it.”
His face scrunches in confusion.
“I know. I know. But just the idea that, very soon, we will be out there,” I say looking toward the sky, “that the only thing between us and space will be a wall of metal, is my literal living nightmare.”
Payson blinks a few times, his icy blue eyes staring and unsure. “You know we’re going to be in space for a while, right?” I don’t like the sarcasm in his tone, even if it is playful.
“Yes. I am aware.” I roll my eyes. “I know it’ssafe, but I hate it. I really, really hate it.”
This is the part where he’ll laugh. Laugh at my immaturity or start to treat me differently, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “At least you’re afraid of something you can explain. It’s basically the fear of flying times one hundred.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” I tease
He chuckles. “My fears are much more complicated.” He stares off, and as much as I want to know what those “complicated fears”may be, I don’t press him.
Not yet, at least. We’ll be stuck on a ship together for the next year, so perhaps the topic will come up again.
“It is safe, by the way. Extremely safe.” He looks like he might want to say more, but he stops there.
Of course he’s right. I know it’s low-risk, but there’s nothing I can do when fear is the dominating emotion in my head. Logic can’t overrule paranoia, at least not mine.
“Well, on that note,” I say, lifting my bag off the bed, “ready to be part of a historic day for all humanity?” I repeat Zara’s words.
His eyes focus again on me, and he smiles. “Let’s do it.”
We trek back toward the runway, but instead of our little group of twenty like on the first day, there are thousands of people smashed into the terminals this time. The size of the base all comes together seeing it full to the brim, but despite all the people, we stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone else is dressedin expensive clothing, carrying an air of importance; painfully, our appearances alone show we don’t belong.
Many eyes follow us as we navigate through the crowd, and I overhear their hushed whispers.
“They probably never thought they would see the day.”
“They’d better be grateful.”
“They can’t imagine what it costs to be here, and now they get a free pass.”
Surely it won’t be this way the entirety of the trip. Everyone will lose interest eventually . . . hopefully. We’re just people, and definitely not important people in comparison to the rich and famous. If they’re anything like Kol and his family, their egos are at the tops of their minds at all times. Even the people I assume to be third-class passengers, with their clothes that don’t look quite as crisp and clean, snub us as we walk past.
I hate that I can spot it so easily. Even among the wealthy, hierarchy persists, everyone trying to blend in and prove they are worthy. But those at the peak, the ultra rich, will always ensure no one can get too close to the top.
A sudden commotion steals everyone’s attention as a group of badges shout over the crowd, pushing people aside to reach their target. A man not much older than I speeds through onlookers, zigzagging in and out.
