“So that’s not what this is about?”
“I just think I am too much of a nuisance for them,” Willinger replied. “I don’t keep my mouth shut when something goes wrong.”
Martin hesitated. “You are talking about the Enceladus mission, right?”
“Yes. I keep having the feeling they are sending you to a certain death. They want to surf the wave caused by the discovery on Enceladus, but I believe this is still beyond the abilities of mankind. Maybe in twenty years …”
“It worked for the Apollo project,” Martin said.
“That’s the problem. It worked once, so they believe it won’t be any different now.” Willinger made gestures with his hands while he talked.
“If they wait twenty years, they’ll never get the money. You see how India was glad to get out of the whole thing.” Willinger paused and took another sip of his beer. “Space travel only works if you take one step after another. Build a base on Mars, then go on to Jupiter… the few cells in the ocean of Enceladus won’t run away. They must have been there for millions of years.”
Martin shook his head. “It is too late for these discussions.”
“Yes, and that’s probably why I have to retire now.” Willinger leaned back in his chair. Martin had never seen him so depressed. His face suddenly brightened when a waitress brought them their food.
“Well, guys, here are your steaks.”
“Thanks, Anna, you’re a sweetie,” Willinger said as he looked up at her with a smile.
“Sure. Salt, pepper, and ketchup are already on the table. If you need anything else…”
Martin watched as Willinger gazed intently at the waitress who sashayed back toward the bar. Glad to see his carnal instincts are still functioning.
Two large plates sat in front of Martin and his host. Each one offered two ribeye steaks, that Martin estimated to weight about ten ounces apiece. They also each had a baked potato, split open, in aluminum foil. The cook had poured plenty of cream gravy on each potato and sprinkled crumbled bacon on top.
Willinger began cutting his steak. “Enjoy your meal. You will be dreaming of such steaks—and I know what I’m talking about.”
Martin took his knife and fork and cut off a piece of steak. Red meat juice oozed out of it—mmm, just the way I like it. The steak smelled of a charcoal grill.
“Great place you chose for us,” he said.
They ate in silence for a while. Willinger did not mind eating a bit noisily. Martin, on the other hand, tried to eat quietly, as his mother had taught him.
“Why didn’t you refuse to go on this mission?”
Martin had a hard time understanding Willinger, who had spoken with his mouth full. Martin took his time and finished chewing the piece of meat in his mouth, swallowing before answering.
“I’m not sure. To me, it seems to… make sense. After all, someone has to do it, and I am both suitable and expendable. I have never done something that seemed to make sense for this many reasons.”
“Expendable? Is no one waiting for you?”
“My mother in Germany won’t get to see me for a Christmas or two.”
“No girlfriend? No ex-wife or someone like that? Aren’t you past 30 already? Or—are you gay?”
Martin laughed. “Actually, I am already 39.”
“Not that it would bother me if you were gay.” Willinger looked a bit embarrassed.
“No. I lived with a woman for a long time. She was the love of my life and all that. I didn’t even know I was capable of achieving something like that.”
“And then she met someone else?”
Martin briefly paused. “She… she died. It was a suicide.”
“I am so sorry.” Willinger placed an arm on Martin’s shoulder.
“She suffered from depression. Never said anything to indicate she would end her life. I should have noticed, but my work…”
“I understand.”
I am not sure Willinger really understands, Martin considered.I do not know this man well enough to tell, but his statement feels genuine.
“Martin, you seem to be running away from life. Am I right?”
Martin shrugged. Then he saw the waitress approaching their table.
“Two more beers, please,” Willinger motioned to her.
Martin knew he had a task waiting for him. But first he had to get drunk with Dave.
October 26, 2045, NASA
The next morning he awoke, lying fully dressed on his bed, and with a hangover. Someone took my shoes off, though, Martin noticed. I remember the last beer at PJ’s, and then Willinger must have driven me here and helped me onto my bed. His head was throbbing, but he did not feel nauseous. I have the day off—that much he remembered. Starting tomorrow, the wilderness survival course was going to begin.
Martin tried to remember the previous evening. Dave asked me an important question—am I trying to run away from my life by joining this mission? Now the question sounded to him like an accusation. Is it really cowardly to go on an uncertain mission lasting for years? Yes, Willinger is right. It only would seem courageous to outsiders, to people who did not know me. It doesn’t concern me at all that the space mission has a lot of issues and the technology is far from proven.
Sure, there were a number of possible situations he had so far avoided. No one knew he was afraid in the dark, which had started in his childhood when his mother went out in the evening. Outer space was the very domain of darkness, followed closely by the depths of the ocean—or an endless hole reaching for kilometers into the ice. He would also have to spend many days interacting with colleagues he did not know yet, even though dealing with people was not one of his strong points.
The reason he had agreed to it in spite of all these issues had not been clear to him back then. Now, I’m starting to have an idea how strong my distaste for my life must have become, if I voluntarily want to face my deepest fears. I must have something in common with my dead girlfriend. It’s probably the very idea that this might be a journey without return that makes it so attractive—a death wish I’ve never admitted to myself.
What does that mean for me and my decision? It meant he was not suitable for this trip into space. It meant he was a danger to his colleagues, who surely valued their lives. If I really do not care whether I die, how can I be certain I would do everything to save the lives of my crewmates in an emergency—and my own life, as they will be depending on me? In this unique mission, the greatest uncertainty factor was not the immature technology, but people like himself.
Martin decided to leave the mission. He would quit his job at NASA, find a nice wife on the internet, get married, and raise kids. The woman whose name they did not want to reveal to him would get his ticket to Enceladus. However, he did not feel the relief he had expected after coming to this decision.
The following day was supposed to be a travel day. In the morning, Martin already tried to find someone he could inform of his decision to quit, but unfortunately it was the weekend. He only met the driver who took him to the airport. After the landing in Boston, a second driver waited for him. He was from India, and Martin barely understood what he said. They drove northward for four hours, almost to the Canadian border. Soon after they left the airport, the rain started. The driver listened to soft music and whistled along out of tune. After half an hour, Martin fell asleep.