Even On Earth

 

Dear Ms. Yuka Niboshi, Your renewal for disability aid has been approved. You have been awarded a monthly stipend of $1,251.30. At the end of every three months, please report to your General Practitioner for an evaluation and review. Sincerely, Financier, BDDC

 

          Her eyes wandered between the incredibly sparse letter and her crutch. This was it.

            This was what two years of fighting the bureaucratic system had come to. Two years of doctors appointments where she had to be re-diagnosed, where she had to convince other doctors it wasn’t temporary, where she had to have her diet watched and her habits measured so they knew she wasn’t doing it to herself. Two years of having to demand help from offices that would only see her in person despite her pain when walking.

She sighed, and her crutch slid along the side of the table toward her in protest, it’s googly eyes staring at the floor in frustration. She pulled it towards herself, admiring the crescent moon sticker that made it look like it was smiling.

“I know,” she said, “but affording rent is at least better than before.”

She slipped her arm into place and hoisted herself up. She looked over at her laptop. It was almost silly, fighting tooth and nail just to get some assistance, proving you’re unable to get a normal job or work enough to live, and then being paid so little that you have to find a job and cover your bills anyway. At least the stipend will take some load off of her having to count dimes when buying groceries.

She took a seat and opened her e-mail. Medical bills, utility bills, advertisement, more medical bills, scam, and her latest client.

She’d been out of college for a few years, now. She’d not been able to land a job, of course- Who needs a degree in astronomy and Newtonian physics outside of college classrooms and NASA? Neither of which were returning her calls. It was all she could do, consulting on scientific papers just to make a living. That’s not to say it didn’t pay well- As far as commissions go, it paid handsomely. The issue was finding work. Plenty of experts in Astronomy or Japanese literature work from their offices or desks all over the world assisting in those matters. Getting a client was work in itself, and getting to what they needed was another. And she’d learned to keep the reasons why she was working at home a secret. For some reason, perhaps hiding between the ideals of pulling yourself up by the bootstraps and the vision of making a million dollars by starting your own business, normal society didn’t like to know people were struggling.

That’s not to say that there weren’t friends. She had plenty of friends who knew, and respected her. Who operated with kindness and consideration, and made her feel so strong in her own life.

But Bureaucracy was always a bitter man biting down on an over-sucked cigar with a lap full of ash and a wallet full of monopoly money.

 

She opened the client E-Mail and looked over their paperwork. It was a proposal on a new satellite’s path. This was an undergrad paper, one of the prestigious universities. She was always proud of how many well-established colleges she was able to turn down when her dream school answered. Her crutch still had the sticker of Saturn she’d put on there from when she was accepted. It was nice.
            Oh. But this wasn’t. The paper included an orbital route for the satellite but completely failed to account for the effect of the sun on the satellite in that same orbital period.

She hesitated. I mean, maybe they accounted for it already, and just failed to mention it? They should mention it, shouldn’t they? They’re a student, it doesn’t have to be pitch-perfect. But, well, things only make it to space with these small calculations considered.

She sent back her notes.

No response.

She refreshed the page.

No response.

She looked up at the ceiling.

Down at the page.

At the clock in the corner.

3:24 AM.

Oh.

 

The consequences of her sporadic sleep schedule aside, she now needed something to do, since she wasn’t likely to get a response for several hours now. Outside the window, she could see the moon and some of the stars glittering in the sky. She had the pleasant fortune of living somewhere with minimal light pollution, and so this was the perfect night to walk out to the hill. She tossed her laptop into her bag, grabbed a bottle of water, and made her way out of her house.

            The hill was a decent ways away from her home, a ten minute walk, despite being visible from her window. And the entire path was mostly grass, the only exceptions being the slow grinding of grass patches into dirt ones in patterns made from her shoes and her crutch.

            It was honestly a very interesting process to witness, even if an incredibly slow one. And despite the difficulties, making it out here was one of her favorite things to do.

            Making it onto the hill, she immediately noticed an easel that Tadaki left behind the last time he was here. Still propped in the same position, paint staining the bottom of it. She always appreciated his company, so this wasn’t a very new occurrence. Since he hadn’t called about it, he must’ve not painted much today.

            She steps onto the middle of the grass hill and, slowly, laid on her back, putting her crutch to the side, googly eyes pointed to the sky. She’d gotten used to the tall grass reaching the edges of her face. The whisps and the like really cemented the idea she was chained to earth. She felt locked to the surface, and from there she let her thoughts drift into the starry image before her.

            It was bright, and colorful. The blacks and browns and whites of the stars and planets, the arms of the galaxies reaching far, far into the depths of space, so far that they almost feel painted together in one beautiful stroke of a brush on a dark canvas of eternity. And all the while they moved, this dear rock of life and wonder and star-faring citizens looking out into the great unknown with abandon that they build their cosmic silver rafts and throw themselves out into space. Out into the stars.

            How strange it was, hm? To stand on this rock, this one in a million, one in a billion pool of warmth and light and people. Where there was art and statues in the same vested space that there once had been. Did the Neanderthals' of the ice age wonder about the stars themselves? Did the first humans realize how deep and vast the universe was? When the Ancient Greeks first calculated the circumference of the Earth, did they pause and watch the stars, wondering what it implied? What else lied out there?

            Could they ever have known? Did they realize we’d reach it someday?

            Not even a hundred years ago, humanity was firmly a species on the ground. And yet in just as much time.. we reached the moon. So far away were we, and so far we went.

            Isn’t that wonderful?

            Isn’t that impossible?

            …

 

            …

            PING

            Her laptop alert went off. Great timing. She, with some difficulty, sat up and pulled her laptop out of her bag. Maybe that guy was also a night owl.

            …No, not him. No response there. Seems to be an E-Mail.

            She opened it. It was in English.

Dear Ms. Yuka Niboshi, We would like to welcome you to attend a hiring event we are hosting at the Rosenbridge Hotel.   Your expertise seems invaluable, and your skills incredible.   We cannot guarantee you a position, but having reviewed your resume and relevant portfolio, we would politely ask that you come and apply anyway.   Enclosed is a voucher for one round-trip flight to Orlando, Florida.   We hope to see you there! Reach for the stars! Susanne Collins, Head of Personnel, NASA

 

                She took a sharp breath in.

            Was this real? This wasn’t a scam, right? The domain matched. It looked official.

            Was she dreaming? This didn’t feel like a dream. Her crutch wasn’t talking and the grass wasn’t pillowy.

            She was certainly not in line to be an astronaut, her disability had made that clear a long time ago. But maybe she was close? The launchpad? Houston? Or, maybe she was just an orbital mathematician. That’s still be so so cool. But, she’s not hired, they just want the opportunity to hire her. Could it be a scam? No, that’d be an expensive scam. A free flight? That’s insane. But, at least they’re serious. The attached flier stated the date was a few months away, she’d have to get her passport in order.

            This seemed real.

            Really, really real.

            She laid back down, staring at the stars above her. The great impossibility, the path opening up before her.

            Could it really be?

            Couldn’t it?

            She stared up at she stars, swearing internally that she could almost see them move.

            Almost see the paths they walk in the night sky.

            The paths of the last million years.

            How they danced, danced, danced.

            And as they danced, she did the only thing she could.

            She reached for the stars.