John Kim, Grade 7
As Jordan settled into his seat and gave the thumbs up to the engineers in the control room, his mind was racing. What if something goes wrong? What if it does not work? What if- what if I die? He realized, as the doors retracted with a hiss, that it was too late to go back. He settled comfortably into his seat and thought of happy memories, well aware that it could be his last moments. An explosion went off, the ship rattled, and he hit his head on the side, blacking out.
What if something goes wrong? What if it does not work? What if- what if I die?
They had been training for days, making it so that their bodies could withstand any temperature, and learning what to do if things went wrong. Jordan’s group, or so everyone called it because the team had unanimously decided to elect him as their leader, was one of many groups in the facility. Their job was to outdo each other, to become the team that was to take on the project.
What they were doing currently was physical training, some days they would do temperature training, or survival training, or just resting because they were straining themselves. As the trainer stopped them from doing a jog and ordered them to do 50 push-ups, Jordan thought of the day that he had come there.
“Huh?” He heard the knocking sound again. Walking to the door, he tried to blink the weariness out of his eyes and opened the door.
“Excuse me sir, but are you, Jordan Davis?”
“That’s me. Who are you again?”
“You applied a week ago.”
Suddenly Jordan was not tired anymore. He had just applied for fun, not really thinking that he would get chosen to “Colonize the Moon,” as the government had called it.
“So, I was accepted?”
“You aced our physical and mental exams, so yes, you are accepted into the program.”
In a dizzy mood, he got into the car and arrived at the camp. . .
“48, 49, 50! Ok boys, go and take a rest, you’ve worked hard enough today.”
The “boys,” cheered and jogged back to the building that held their rooms.
Jordan was about to follow them when the trainer stopped him and said,
“Hey Jordan, I have orders to send you to the control room.”
Puzzled, Jordan started on his way. There was no reason to be sent there, there was nothing that he would need to know there.
When he arrived, he was surprised to see the other leaders of the other groups already gathered in the room. The head of the operation, David Miller, stood up and addressed the crowd.
“I have gathered you all here to give this announcement. You all are chosen to be in the operation. Your training has now ended, and you will be moved into the final phase of training. You will now be working with each other, for this period until launch.”
There was a flurry of questions. Why was the operation now accelerated, what had happened, how long was the training period? David had already left, and the group followed the instructions that he had gave another of the leaders.
1 Week Later
They had all been informed the night before. The takeoff would be today. The group did their daily routine of running around the complex 10 times, and doing 100 push-ups and 100 sit-ups, before going to the launch pad to get briefed on what they were supposed to do.
It was a haze to all of them, they had gone through this multiple times a day, but they digested every word. Don’t go out more than you need to. Remember to plant the trees. Be careful. It seemed like an eternity before they left for the elevator to go up to the door.
They got suited up, double checked, triple checked their suits, and then got their suits checked again by the technicians and walked across the metal gangway. Reaching the door, he paused, against protocol, and waved to the crowd before going inside, hoping good things in the future.