3 The Lonely Astronaut Part One: Adrift

N.E.C Year -1

A faint buzzing against my back was the first thing I felt as I came out of the darkness. I was alive, but something was still off. The last time I opened my eyes was nearly three years ago. I thought I was dead. I was in was a sea of eternal darkness with the occasional oasis of abstract lights and sounds before my mind was washed away into the abyss again, over and over for what seemed like forever.

All at once, my memories came back to me. I was more than a vague consciousness floating endlessly in darkness once again, and it felt amazing. I waited patiently for the door to open, giddy to be the first person in history to set eyes on Venus. It had taken decades of research, years of training, billions of dollars, and 38 months in suspended animation, but I had finally made it. I was living the dream that every American kid had; I was an astronaut. If only my parents could see me now.

The vibration that I felt on my back before started to get stronger and began to work its way across my entire body. My muscles hadn't been used in years, and they needed to be woken up before I stepped out of bed. My body was almost entirely numb as they started, but after about a minute I could feel the tingly sensation of a thousand little needles as my limbs began to come back to me.

A message appeared in front of me along the ceiling of the chamber.

"Welcome back, Adam," it said in solid purple.

Another messaged flashed.

"You have reached your destination, and have been sleeping for approximately three years, two months, and 11 days, and have traveled over 162 million miles. The door will be opening soon."

This was it, the moment I'd been waiting for. I could barely contain my excitement as the massaging vibrations brought my body back to life. I tried to think about just how far I'd come to get my mind off the anticipation.

I was raised just like any other American of my generation. I loved my country, my God and my freedom above all else. My father was a military man, as was his, all the way back to the first World War when my family came over from Europe to escape the Ottomans. It was in my blood, and when I was a kid, there was never any question about what I'd do with my life. I was going to fight for the red, white and blue.

When I was young, just about 13, I lost both of my parents in a car accident. I moved in with my grandmother, but I always felt alone. I would look to the skies and marvel at the wonders of the universe from my little bedroom window every night. I wanted to get out there and see what I could find. I joined the military as soon as I could and did my time because I knew it's what my parents would have expected of me, but my mind was always on the stars.

Then, one day, I got assigned to a special unit. As was typical of high command, we got basically no information on what we were supposed to be doing. They had us doing insane amounts of physical and mental endurance tests. When all was said and done, there were only three of us out of the original ten remaining.

Then, I was taken into a back room and asked about my personal history. They seemed very interested when I told them that I didn't have any family. It was then that I started getting nervous. I was willing to die for my country, of course, but not yet. I had to make it off the planet at least once first.

About a week later, I was introduced to a man who called himself Agent Carol. He asked me about how I felt about my country and to what lengths I would go to protect it. I told him plainly that I would be willing to do whatever it took to ensure that American values prevailed.

Then he asked me how I felt about the America First Party and the current administration. I told him that I voted for them on every ticket since I'd turned 18. They were the only ones who could save our great nation from the collectivist hoards at the gates. They wanted to take our freedom and turn us into nothing more than a colony of ants with a hive-mind. That's not the America that I knew.

The America that I knew was bold, beautiful and unashamed about acting in self-interest and expressing individuality. That's what the big government guys and the communist hippies didn't understand. When you join together in every way, you lose your identity. When you lose your individuality, you lose your humanity. That was what was so great about America.

In America, you could do what you wanted, when you wanted. No one was supposed to be able to tell you your business, that was for God to judge. We didn't take handouts; we worked for what we had. If we didn't work, we didn't survive. The best lesson that I remember learning from my parents is that God helps those that help themselves. If you want something in life, you have to take it.

That must have been precisely what they wanted to hear because I got a call back the next day and was taken to a private jet and flown across the country to a base somewhere out in the desert. I remember my mind racing. I didn't have any idea what they were planning for me, and I could only imagine the kinds of things that went on in places like that.

It was the next generation of war, no doubt. Things with the Chinese had been getting close to the boiling point for years, and those dirty globalists in the NEC would likely try and do anything they could to sabotage our country. We were everything that they stood against. A place where people were free to be themselves. There was talk all the time around the barracks about how war could break out at any moment. I thought that must have finally been the time. We were going to beat them to the punch.

As I got into the base and started going down to the main lab though, things quickly became clear. It was a massive warehouse with ceilings at least 100 feet high. I saw holograms of star charts and scientists in lab coats dotting the area near the elevator. Towards the back of the warehouse, I could see the outlines of massive rockets that stretched on for what looked like forever. Somehow, God had a plan for me after all. My dreams were about to come true.

They took me away from the commotion and into a smaller room near the other side of the hangar. I was practically about to burst from excitement at the possibilities when I sat at the small metal table. They left me alone for a minute and eventually an older man who I would later come to know as Doctor Pharns sat at the table across from me.

He asked me what I knew about space travel. I told him that while I had read a lot about it in my free time, I didn't know much of the science behind it. He started explaining some of the basics, and we eventually moved on to long-distance space travel and the problems associated with it. Because faster-than-light travel was still decades away at best, figuring out how to keep ourselves alive for the extreme amount of time that it would take to travel any serious distance in space was NASA's most significant concern.

He then told me that, until I agreed to participate in their program, he wouldn't be able to tell me anything else. I had reservations at first. I had heard stories about the first animals and even people that were sent into space to test new technology; it usually didn't end well for them. That must have been why they asked me earlier if I would be willing to die for my country.

I told him that I just wanted to know one thing: why me? I wasn't anything special. I wasn't a rocket scientist or a biologist; I was just an enthusiast. What could they possibly have seen in me above anyone else?

He asked me if he could speak frankly, which is usually never a good sign. He told me that I was an ideal candidate for the mission because I was patriotic, eager and I loved space. I was physically fit enough to survive in harsh conditions, and I had enough aptitude to be taught how to do what was required of me. The real reason that they chose me over the other two, he said, was that if anything went wrong, I didn't have any family or any real connections that would be wondering where I went or what happened to me.

That was a little sad to hear, but it made sense. Most of the other people who were much more qualified than me had lives that they couldn't just leave behind at the drop of a hat. People would start to ask questions, and questions are never good. I think the only reason they showed it to me in the first place was that they knew that I would never turn it down, no matter what the mission was.

As it turns out, they were right. I took in what Dr. Pharns had said for a few seconds and then agreed to do whatever was needed of me. He smiled and shook my hand. Then he put a stack of papers in front of me to sign. I didn't even bother reading them before I scribbled my name down. I was all in. After I handed them back to him, he stood up and asked me to follow him down the hallway.

We walked all the way down to his office. It was bare except for his terminal, which took up an entire wall of the room, with a small desk and two chairs on the other side. He walked up to his terminal and activated it.

He pulled up a diagram of something that looked like a tube with a cushioned inside, along with a gel layer made from something that I'd never heard of before and some other things that I didn't understand. It all looked fascinating, though. He told me that it was something that they got from a mole they had in the NEC's space program. It was a full set of plans for a working stasis chamber that he had his crew completing.

Dr. Pharns stressed to me that it was imperative that we make this test before the NEC announced their own. Their mole also told them that the NEC was still about five years out from being ready to put them into the test phase. Dr. Pharns wanted not only to test it within two years but to test it in a full mission.

I asked him what exactly a full mission meant. I could see a grin spread across his face and a look of excitement in his eyes. He used his terminal to pull up a massive projection of Venus. He pointed to a spot just above the top of the planet. He told me that's where I was going.

My mind shut down for a second. I thought for sure that this all must have been some elaborate fever dream or something. There was no way that something like this could happen to me. It just didn't make sense. I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, especially when that gift was the key to making my life-long dream a reality. When I could finally speak, I told him that I couldn't wait to get started.

What happened after that was a long road of intense physical and mental training. That was only the start of it, though. My days off were spent learning how to work the different parts of the ship that they were building for me. It was unlike anything that had been made before and was also based on NEC specs that they got from their mole. To say that the thing was state-of-the-art was an understatement. It was the most fantastic piece of technology that humanity had ever created. I didn't understand most of it, but I didn't need to. The unique thing about this ship was that, on top of being the first to have stasis chambers, it was also the first to have an onboard A.I that ran it.

All I needed to do was memorize commands and how to fly the ship in and out of orbit. The A.I, Jones, would take care of the rest. If I had any problems or questions, I could ask it, and it would help me to the best of its ability. I got myself acquainted with Jones about a year after I first joined the program and I was amazed by how well it could respond to me. It was almost like I was talking to a living person.

Jones helped me figure out what went where, and was in the test ship with me during all of the simulations that we ran. They told me that they wanted Jones and me to operate as a team because it would be the only companion that I had when I was out there. They even suggested that I referred to Jones as "him" and treat him as if he was a member of the crew and I was the captain.

I must have done over a thousand training missions with Jones. At first, the failure rate was extremely high. When you're in space, millions of miles away from home, even the smallest error can be fatal. We worked at it, though, and after a few months, we were running through the entire thing like it was nothing and had almost a 90 percent success rate.

After 19 months of training, we were finally ready. I remember standing out in the desert, staring at the ship with anticipation. At that moment, I felt fear and anxiety wash over me like a wave. What if I didn't succeed? There was a genuine chance that I would end up dying alone in space, drifting endlessly into the darkness. There was no turning back, no matter what reservations that I might have had. I signed on the dotted line and knew what I was getting into. Even if I died in space and no one would remember my name, it would be worth it because I did it for my country.

I got strapped in and booted up Jones. We ran through the pre-flight checklist like it was nothing, and got the engines ready for launch. I was to go out into orbit, have Jones set the course for Venus and then put myself into the stasis chamber with the settings dialed in either for three years (the estimated time that the journey would take) or until Jones woke me up.

The takeoff itself was something that I wasn't as ready for as I thought. The simulations did an excellent job of preparing me for most things, but the real thing was just so much more…real. There was no safety net anymore, and any little mistake would have sent us smashing down to the ground below in a ball of flames. I gripped the edge of my seat as we powered through and discharged the first set of rockets, then the second. Then, just like that, we were out of orbit, and I felt the weight of gravity turning off like a light switch.

Once we cleared the distance, I looked down at the planet for what I thought might have been the last time. It was more amazing than any picture could have ever shown. I was in so much awe that I almost forgot to start the next phase of the trip. Luckily, Jones was there to put things in motion. If it weren't for the stasis chamber, I'm pretty sure that Jones could have made this entire trip on his own. He was and still is, a marvel of technology and design.

I turned away from my home for the last time and crossed the thirty-or-so feet to where the stasis chamber sat. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't filled with anxiety as soon as I looked at it. It was a little taller than I was and just wide enough to fit one person comfortably. I went to push the button to start the entry process, but I couldn't do it. I had to turn around and get one last look at Earth before I did. I wanted to make sure that I got a good look, just in case it was the last thing that I would ever see.

Jones could sense my heart rate rising and told me to relax. He reminded me of everything that we'd been through before and how high our success rate had been. He asked me to trust him, and I did. He was the only companion that I'd had for over a year, and he hadn't let me down before. Any mistakes that were made in all of our test runs were my own, and I had them down to muscle memory by that point.

I steadied my resolve and forced myself to push the button. The smooth, black cylinder came to life and began lighting up. On a digital display on the outside, I could see the date, the time, and that the chamber wasn't occupied. I interacted with it and put in the time that I needed to be under, and as I stepped into it and laid back against the cushions, I activated it with my voice.

A robotic arm came out of it and prepared my arm for the IV drip that would keep me stable while I was sleeping. After that, the arm adjusted the straps that kept me held in place, and with a final verbal command and a last goodbye to Jones, the door closed in front of me and a small message popped up on the inside of the chamber, just at eye level.

"Welcome to the SmartSleep 1.0 extended stasis system. Your estimated time of arrival is three years, 0 months and 0 days. Enjoy your rest. "

Then I felt a slight cold sensation as the sleep agent worked its way through my veins and the world around me slowly went black. I had an instinctual urge to fight it, to stay awake for as long as I could, but I tried to let it pass. I thought of my family and wondered if they were looking down on me from somewhere. I hoped they were proud of me. Then I tried to picture Earth once more, trying to keep the image in my mind for as long as I could. I remember someone telling me once that your last thoughts should be of home.

I hoped that I would see my world again, but doubt crossed my mind as I started to slip away to sleep. What if this was it? What if I never woke up? It didn't matter in the end, though. There was nothing I could do. If this was it, this was it. I just hoped that Jones could get us there in one piece. That thought was the last thing I carried with me as I let the warmth spreading through my body take me into what I hoped wouldn't be an eternal rest.

It was all worth it. Every single minute of it for what I was about to see. The countdown and finished, I could feel all of my limbs, and my eyes had adjusted to the light. Finally, I heard the pressurization locks disengage and watched as the door slowly slid open.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." I heard the familiar voice of Jones say. "Are you ready to see it?"

I almost couldn't answer, and when I did my voice was trembling and giddy with excitement.

"Yes, please." I finally forced out.

"So polite." He said. "I think you've earned it." That built-in personality matrix really set Jones apart from the rest of the machines.

The blast shields over the windows opened, and I saw the most amazing thing that any human had ever seen before. I don't think I could put the feeling that I had at that moment into words. It was the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen or ever would see.

Endless stars floating out into the distance set the perfect backdrop to the beautiful, white planet that I saw before me. The dense sulfuric acid clouds that covered the surface made it look like a perfectly spherical slab of marble. I'm not ashamed to admit that I teared up as I took it all in. All of that fear and anxiety that I had when I slipped off into the long sleep were gone. I'd finally made it.

Well, I'd made it halfway, at least. There was still a mission to do, and I could be awestruck when everything else was taken care of. I sat down and started going through all the system checks with Jones.

Everything was working well, much better than we'd expected. Jones compiled the data logs, and I sent the all clear message back home and asked for further instructions. They told me before I left that any communications would likely take around an hour to both send and receive, but could take as long as three hours.

"This is Adam Berkdell, I.D number 1309549. I have just arrived at the destination, and am proud to say that the mission was a complete success. I will await instruction and begin transmission of data as soon as this message has been received. Over and out."

In the meantime, I went back to see what I could find from the window. I stared aimlessly at the planet, picturing colonies floating in the clouds above it and wondering if maybe one of them would be named after me. "Adam's Landing" had a nice ring to it. Or maybe "Berkdell Station" after my last name, that would be a good one.

I waited patiently for three hours but still got no response. I asked Jones to do another diagnostic run of our communications systems to make sure that nothing was wrong. He completed it in a few seconds, telling me that everything was in working order and that the message was sent successfully. I figured that the millions of miles between Earth and us created an equal amount of variables, so I sent the message again, but this time I sent three identical messages with ten-minute intervals between them.

Another three hours passed, and again we didn't receive anything. Jones suggested that we relax and give it some time. He said that their simulations allowed for about three hours for the messages to send but, since we were the first real test, it could have been vastly different. I wasn't sure if I bought that. I'd thought that with the (assumedly) billions of dollars that they spent on this project, they would have gotten the signal communication down before they sent us out here.

We ended up waiting for another 24 hours before sending another message. This time I duplicated it and had Jones send one out on a constant basis every 30 minutes. I was starting to get worried, despite Jones telling me to stay calm. I tried to focus my energy on looking at Venus. Its beauty was still enrapturing and enough to keep my mind off the wait.

After another day had passed, the splendor of the stars wasn't enough to keep me occupied. I must have checked in with Jones every two minutes for the entire day, but still nothing. There was nothing even to indicate that our message had been received, let alone that they tried to send something back.

After a total of five days spent waiting, I was ready to pull the plug on the mission and start the long journey back. Then, just as I was asking Jones to prep the chamber and calibrate our journey home, we got a message. It just wasn't the type of message that I was expecting to get.

Firstly, it wasn't verified. They gave us a code back at the base to make sure that the messages were coming from the right place. At the beginning of any message, the phrase "Washington Rising" was supposed to be said.

The message didn't have that. In fact, it wasn't even from America. It was from the NEC. Those bastards must have hacked us. I asked Jones to check the message for any viruses or worms into our systems. It came back clean, and Jones played it for me. It was in English, but the accent was off.

"Attention, receiver of this message. This is Commander Rickard Aalto of The Northern European Consulate Security Forces. To whoever sent this message, what is your location and designation? We can see that this message has come from somewhere in deep space but, as far as we were aware, there are no astronauts currently off-world. Based on the programming data and your accent, I can only assume that you are an American and may be unaware of the current state of your nation. Please respond with your location and designation as soon as possible, and we can help you get home. This message will repeat…."

I listened to it three times, and every time I got more nervous. Why weren't the right people receiving the messages? How did the NEC even get ahold of these channels? And, most importantly, what did he mean about the current state of my nation?

I wasn't sure if I was going to say anything back. For all I knew, it was just some dirty socialist trick, and they had hacked into NASA's databases and wanted to get all the data for this mission for themselves. I was tempted to tell Aalto to go fuck himself and put me on with the right people.

I couldn't do it, though. That thing he said about the state of my nation was bothering me too much. It may have been a ruse, but I had to see what was going on. I instructed Jones to make sure that no mission data was sent with the message and to block anything incoming until he screened it first. I made my message simple and direct.

"This channel is owned by NASA and the United States Government. State your business on this channel and tell me what exactly you meant by 'the state of my nation.' I won't send any more information or data until that is answered."

With my job done, I sat and waited. It only took an hour and a half to get the next message. As soon as Jones cleared it, he played it for me.

"I'm not sure how long you've been out there, but I can imagine that you don't know of the events that have unfolded over the last few years. I'm sorry to inform you of this, but your president, along with many of the members of both the house and senate, was assassinated in August of 2041. A civil war followed that left many dead and the city of New York destroyed by a nuclear weapon detonation. The weapon was found to have been deployed by former members of the government, which prompted my government to support the rebels. As of January 19th, 2044, the United States dissolved and formally joined the NEC. I know this news must be shocking to you, but I assure you, it's the truth. Please give us your mission information and details so we can start the process of bringing you home."

Every word that Aalto said made my heart sink further into my chest. This couldn't be happening; there was just no way. My people had stood firm for nearly 300 years. We were the most indomitable people in the world, and had proven it not once, but twice in the great wars of the 20th century. How could we have done this to ourselves? It just wasn't possible.

He must have been lying.

That was it, of course, he was lying! It was a dirty trick to get me to spill state secrets to the NEC. They were jealous of what we had achieved. We succeeded where they failed. Not only that, but we beat them to the punch by years.

I couldn't believe they thought I would fall for such a stupid ruse. There was no way the America that I knew would intentionally hurt its citizens like that, especially with something as insane as a nuclear warhead. That was extreme even by Commie standards. The only reason I wasn't getting through to my people was probably that the NEC hijacked the signal. That was the only answer that made sense.

Jones broke me out of my rant by telling me that we'd received another message. This time, though, it wasn't an audio file, it was a large packet of data. I had Jones scan it for threats, but somehow it came up clean. He asked me if I wanted to open it, but I couldn't decide. On the one hand, it was almost surely another trick by the NEC to get information from me. On the other hand, deep down somewhere inside me, I was worried that the things that Aalto had told me were true, and this was his proof.

It reminded me of Schrödinger's cat. If I didn't open the data and pour through it myself, then it was very possible that everything that Aalto had said was a lie. Once I opened it and found out for sure, it would be true. I didn't want it to be true.

Everything in my being was telling me not to open the file. But again, that small voice from deep down was telling me that I had to see. Morbid curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn't help myself. I sat for what felt like hours before finally giving Jones the go-ahead to open the files and present them to me.

What I saw horrified me. I watched the live feed of the new president, who while not someone I would have selected for the AFP primary, was someone who I respected as an American patriot and model conservative, was booed, attacked and forced at gunpoint to admit that his election victory had been fraudulent.

Then, as if that wasn't horrible enough, I watched him, and the rest of the people in the room die as the blast went off only minutes later.

Next came news clippings of the event and the war that came after it. I saw interviews on guerrilla news networks given by those cowards in red masks calling for the downfall of the AFP and the American establishment. I watched in horror as a collage of a hundred thousand cameras captured the destruction of the crown jewel of my country. I sat in disgust as I saw a holo-recording of the vice president, a man who I grew up admiring on the radio, heartlessly destroy millions of American lives with nothing more than a sneer and a wave of his hand. And finally, I bore in stunned silence the news clips showing the resignation of my countrymen as they signed over everything our founders risked their lives for to the socialist menace.

By the time it was over, I was shaken and drained. Everything that I had ever known and loved was gone. My country had been raped and beaten, and there was no one left to cover her shame. I wanted to cry out, to scream in terror from the top of my lungs, but nothing came. I was empty.

Everything I had worked so hard for was all for nothing. My home was gone. My people, the real Americans, were dead. The rest of the sheep were busy walking hand-in-hand with the wolves to the slaughter. The torch of freedom and liberty had been extinguished, never to be re-lit.

Jones snapped me out of my spiral, asking me what our next move was. I had no idea what to do. My foundation had collapsed under me, and I didn't know how I could ever climb out of the hole that it had left me in. I couldn't go back to Earth. Why would I? There was nothing for me there. I had no home, no family and no country to go back to. I was, at that moment, truly alone in the universe.

When that thought hit me, I started to cry. I didn't expect it and couldn't control it. I cried for my soon-to-be-forgotten country and the loss of her great ideals. I cried for my friends, who were no doubt wiped out by the red scourge. And finally, I cried for myself; a lone American set adrift in the endless void with nowhere to go and nowhere to return to. It was all just too much.

I thought of stepping out through the airlock door and putting a quick end to my pain, but that would curse me to an eternity in the pits of hell. I thought maybe that I was there already. Perhaps I had died on the trip out, and this was my punishment for trying to outwit God and escape what he had made for us. It almost made sense, how else could so many horrible things have happened in such a short time if it wasn't one of the devil's tricks?

Maybe, though, this wasn't something that the devil had done, but an act of the almighty himself. Maybe God put me on this path to be a witness to the horrors of what secularism will do. Perhaps I was Noah, and this was my ark. God always had a plan; everyone knows that. That's how it's possible to make sense of the madness. Put your faith in Him and let the rest fall away. Who was I to question divinity? Who was I to curse the events of my life when so many others had it so much worse? A real man of God accepts all events as His will and does not try and fight them.

My tears were stopping, and I tried my best to harden my resolve. I would go on living, but not like this, and not on Earth. As soon as that thought came to my head, another one did as well, clearly guided by the soft wisp of my creator's will. I looked over to Jones and asked a simple question: How long would the stasis chamber hold up for?

He told me that, as it stood, it had another fifty years in it before the power went out. Fifty years was good, but not long enough. I knew in my heart that change would come. You can't keep the righteous down for long. You can persecute them and drive them to the ends of the earth, but they will persevere. That's all that I needed to do. I could wait out the heretics and let them burn in the Sodom that they create for themselves, but I needed more time.

I started thinking of a plan. I asked Jones what would happen if I shut off all the power to every other system on the ship and diverted it all to the stasis chamber. He said that it would theoretically buy me up to 300 years. That would be long enough for things to sort themselves out, then I could go home again.

A wave of excitement started to build in me. I was manic with inspiration. I asked Jones to start setting all of the reserve power to the stasis pod. He told me that if I did this, then once the 300 years were over I most likely wouldn't be able to move the ship from wherever it was and that the on-board comms would be out of power as well.

I told him that God had a plan and I needed to follow it. He asked me again to reconsider my actions, but I held firm. If this was the way that things needed to be, then so be it. I readied the pod and set the timer for 300 years. I took a deep breath in as I watched the doors slide open. Then it hit me; there was something that I had to do first.

I had Jones keep one other thing alive on the ship as I slept. One terminal was left active for anyone who would maybe find me and a message was left for them.

I told them my story. Then I told them a brief history of the once-great nation of America and why I loved her so much. I finished with a message begging whoever found it to hear my tale of woe and my countries tragic fall from grace and learn from it. I asked them to spread our ideals because no one would be left who could. I was the last American, but it didn't mean we still couldn't be remembered. And not from the heavily edited eye that was Big Brother, I wanted them to remember the real America. I finally wrapped it up with a small rendition of our national anthem. Tears were coming again, and I couldn't bear it any longer.

After the message was finished, I stepped with purpose over to the stasis chamber but had another brief pause. I quickly turned around and went to the window again, getting one last look at Venus. Maybe now that the world had fallen to chaos, I would be the only person who would ever see it. I hoped not, but in my heart, I thought that it might be true.

With my mission complete I stepped again to the stasis chamber and watched with anticipation, waiting for the doors to open. I was going on a great journey, further and longer than anyone in history, and this was just the first step.

As the doors opened, I said my last goodbyes to Jones, who would soon be going offline to preserve power. I sat down slowly into the cushions and tried to let my mind relax. The same message from before appeared in purple LED above my head.

"Welcome to the SmartSleep 1.0 extended stasis system. Your estimated time of arrival is 300 years, 0 months and 0 days. Enjoy your rest. "

I felt the prick on my skin again, and my body began to go numb. I remembered hazily the darkness that I was in before when I first left Earth. This time it would last for 100 times longer. My mind began to race at that thought. I wasn't sure if I could handle it. I may have made a huge mistake and would be sentencing myself to hundreds of years of mental torture followed by a cold, unwelcoming death; alone in the void. I tried to harden my heart against such thoughts as the darkness began to take me. This was a test, and I would pass. I was sure of it.

That was the last thing that I remember before drifting off into the abyss once more. I was on a mission, and I had to succeed, no matter the cost.