* * *
Lara and Lani arrive at the nourishment center and see the other carts parked there. They both step off their cart and walk through the holodoor. They’re thankful that no one is looking toward them. Now there are fourteen people assembled, which is the entire complement of the ship’s crew. Lara and Lani arrive at the nourishment bar and place their protein and carb meal orders, and the tubes are dispensed.
They walk to the table with their tubes in hand, feeling eyes on them, keeping their eyes on their meals.
“You two are late,” says Remi, their commander, and father. “You are two day units late…as usual.”
Lara and Lani gaze at their father and both nod in contrition as they say, “Sorry Father.”
“Please be on time tomorrow. Finish eating. You are not having your regular classes today, but instead, we are following a different agenda.”
Since daily classes covering the same subjects are what Lara and Lani have always known, cessation of them is a shocking revelation. Lara says, “What?” with real alarm in her voice at the same time as Lani says, “Awesome!” with absolute joy and relief in his. Lani’s response elicits annoyed looks from everyone at the table. Of the many topics and lessons learned during their daily history lessons, Lani takes pleasure in making these long-ago exclamations part of his regular vocabulary.
“I have good news for you. In seven days we will be arriving at our destination, Gliese 581 G. As you are aware, “Galaxaura” is 20 light-years, or 120 trillion miles, from Earth. If not for the Brigadoon Wormhole, instead of a journey of 250 years, the journey would have taken us 761 years.”
Everyone sits and listens without interrupting, having heard this same story so many times. They are patient, because their commander may tell the same stories, but he always adds something new at the end, and he doesn’t disappoint.
“Now, for the first time since our journey began, the door to the command bridge has unlocked.”
There is palpable silence in the air as the group looks up from their meals to make eye contact with their commander.
“That area has always been restricted,” says Mira, the mother of Lara and Lani.
“It was…until this morning when I received a private message from the master controller on my interface visor. We are to assemble at the command bridge for further instructions at eight clicks, and zero units. That time is now.”
The group rises as one, with the collective mood of those attending a funeral. The fear of the unknown command bridge, and that they are seven days away from an uncertain and real destination, weighs heavy on their minds. They are so accustomed to the day-to-day life they share; they forgot they are on a journey to a destination they will someday reach. They exit the nourishment center and board their carts, ready for a short trip to a part of the ship they have never been. Lara realizes her hands are squeezing her grips too tight. She glances at Lani, hoping to be comforted by a grin, but is surprised her brother has such a tense expression on his face; this makes her more anxious.
“Command Bridge,” Lara hears her father say, as his cart rises, and moves into the distance.
One by one, the rest of their group mutter these frightening words. Lara realizes their cart is the last remaining, so says, “Command Bridge,” in a croaked whisper. She is surprised the cart understands her as it rises and follows the line of carts in front of them.