Swirling stars

Martin finds me in the showers the next morning, just as I finish my rinsing. "Follow me," he says simply, pulling me down the path and across the central yard to a food station. The four eggs Martin took yesterday from the chicken polly have all been cracked open, their contents sizzling on the stove. A light, nearly transparent skin covers the yellow centers.

Martin waits a few moments before transferring the egg contents to a plate using a spatula. "Over easy!" he announces triumphantly. "Could use a little pepper, but...well..."

I tear off a piece of one and chew it, not even minding how it burns the roof of my mouth. "This is fantastic!" I say, and Martin grins at me, somehow proud and abashed at the same time. "Will you have some for yourself? If it reminds you of home..."

"Don't mind if I do," he says, tearing off his own piece.

Valerie emerges from her room just as we consume the last of the eggs. "Accompany me to the stores," she says impatiently. "It is an arduous climb to the main engines. The sooner we can begin, the better."

I take the opportunity to re-stock my utilities, adding in some anti-nausea medicine just in case. Martin does the same. Meanwhile, Valerie goes to the back room for a while. When she returns, she's wearing a fitted protective head covering and a strap around her bubs. She hands me a head covering and strap as well.

"I wasn't sure of your head size, Martin," she says apologetically. "Feel free to check in the back and find one that will fit." Once he has returned with his own protective covering, Valerie gives both of us handheld tubes with a crank on one end and a transparent crystal structure on the other.

"Flashlights!" Martin exclaims. Somehow he is able to activate his. Light pours through the crystal structure and shines in a focused beam against the far partition of the room.

"That is correct," says Valerie. "Portable light sources. The area we will be traversing is quite dark. These do not last for long, but they can be recharged by turning the crank."

All of our utilities and equipment sorted, Valerie leads Martin and me out of the polly down the redward path. Where the incline of the hills begins, a large steel opening is built into the terrain, reminiscent of the entrance to Facility 23. Only pausing to turn on her flashlight, Valerie strides confidently into the dark, followed by Martin. I tentatively bring up the rear of the procession.

We walk down a narrow corridor for a few hundred ems before reaching an intersection with another claustrophobic orthogonal corridor stretching left and right--spinward and counter-spinward.

"Here we are," says Valerie. "This is the very edge of the craft." She paces a few steps spinward and points to a bulbous metal structure on her right. "One of the side thrusters, poking through the edge of the hull. You'll find them every hundred and fifty ems along this passage. And here..." She leads us a little further on, where we encounter a sharp set of spiraling stairs. "The way up. To the main engines." We begin our climb.

Valerie was not exaggerating when she called this ascension "arduous". Martin and I are forced to make frequent stops on the stairs to catch our breath. Once, my flashlight loses its charge and I have to re-crank it. At least our weight is lessening with every step. By the time the stairs emerge into a wide open area--nearly a kayem-and-a-half above the corridor, I would estimate--I feel as light as a stalk of wheat.

The cavernous space is truly awe-inspiring. I crane my head back to take it all in. We're standing on a wide platform that curves up and over our heads, a perfect circle several dozen ems in diameter. Contained within this circle--jutting out from the back partition--are four more metal structures, far larger than the side thruster we saw earlier. "Those are the main engines?" Martin asks.

"Aye," Valerie confirms.

Laughing in delight at my lack of weight, I leap straight up five or six ems. As I fall slowly, I notice I am also drifting spinward. I land several ems away from my companions, who watch amusedly before turning back to the engines.

"What do you think?" asks Valerie.

"I think...they're in good shape. Structurally sound. Just need to rig in the hook-ups..." Martin moves forward. "Is that--?" He turns off his flashlight. "Kill the lights. Come here."

Curious, I obey him, plunging the area into near blackness. Before us, I recognize something I have seen very rarely--a glass window, lodged between two of the engines at face height. And beyond...as my eyes adjust, I start to see small points of light, hundreds, then thousands. "What--?"

"It's outside," says Martin, his voice choked. "We're looking outside the ship, behind it. And those are stars." The points of light spin slowly around a central point. No, that isn't right, I realize. The stars aren't spinning. I am. I press against the glass, fascinated.

"Earth is back there," Martin continues quietly.

"Which one?" I ask. "Which one is...the Sun?"

"None of them." He chuckles ruefully. "It's too faint. We're over five hundred light years away. Even Auto's best telescope would struggle to resolve it."

Maybe it is a vicarious feeling I have picked up from Martin. Maybe it is something deep within me, built into my core as a human being. Either way, a wave of distress flashes over me, regret and homesickness for a place I have never known. My hand finds Martin's. We clutch at each other, standing side by side.

"Regardless, it's very beautiful," I say softly.

"It is," he agrees.