9:18am UTC
Mission Control's wake-up message didn't come today. Hugh was the first to wake up and alert the rest of us. I'm...worried about what that might mean. We've all been pretty antsy. Hugh has been working on the control module for hours now, but I don't think he's had any luck.
I just finished up on the treadmill because I've been really slacking when it comes to working out. Betsy has been getting onto me about it especially. I don't see why it's her problem if I get muscular atrophy, but it's appreciated nonetheless. She's working on a seed germination experiment at the moment, testing whether or not lentils can be grown in microgravity. We...may be running low on food at the moment. I don't think NASA quite understood how much food four people eat in 5 years.
Or maybe they understood quite well and we'll be fine. Who knows.
I close my journal with a heavy sigh, tuck it away in the pouch on my belt, and unclip myself from my bed. I've become used to floating by this point, but a small part of me misses walking around. I can't say floating around isn't convenient, though. I exit my quarters and float down the hallway through the mid-deck, past the bathroom and into main area that houses all of our personal supplies for the trip. Trash bags, wipes, extra flight suits, etcetera. I ascend the ladder to the flight deck, finding Hugh in the same spot he's been since we awoke.
"How's it going, Cap?" I greet.
Hugh sighs and shakes his head. He's bent over a compartment on the port side of the shuttle, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. His back is turned, but I can tell he's been agonizing over whatever he's found thanks to the tension in his broad shoulders.
"Not good." He replies simply, turning to face me.
He holds a few things in hand: a cassette tape, a piece of paper, and what appears to be a high-tech cassette deck. My brows furrow and I glance back up at him.
"Have y'listened to the tape yet?"
He shakes his head.
"Members of the Caelus 1, this is Jeremiah Versailles," The tape begins.
The four of us crowd in the flight deck, hearts pounding and anticipation rising. Hugh holds the deck out for everyone to hear, tapping his fingers on it with impatience.
"If you are listening to this, you have inevitably lost contact with mission control. Quite obviously, we - and you - knew this would happen eventually. I have supplied you with a list of coordinates for Galileo-25b, and trust that you will make your way there. The truth is," A melancholy, grainy laugh comes from the cassette deck, "The truth is we have been untruthful."
I turn to look at Barry, who's gaze is fixated on the device and burning with something I haven't witnessed before.
"This mission has and always was one of no return. Perhaps you knew, perhaps you did not, but it is what it is. Galileo-25b? That planet could be barren for all we know. It could be teeming with flora and fauna of all kinds. It could be entirely uninhabitable. However, if by the grace of God it is inhabitable,"
There's a long pause and a dreadful silence for quite some time. It's as if Mr. Versailles hadn't really prepared much for this little speech he's delivering to us.
"Good luck."
We sit in the stillness for what feels like hours, hoping there's more to the tape. That there was something else left behind. No. No, that was it. Months of training, months of rapport building, months of hiding secrets from friends and family. All for nothing.
Betsy slams her fists on the control module, narrowly missing important hardware.
"That's it?!" She shouts, "That's all we get?!"
She looks as though she wants to begin pacing, her body wound up tightly.
"How dare he!! What in God's name do we do now?"
Hugh's response is immediate, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"I'm going to try to reroute us back to Earth. There's no way in hell I'm taking us to that planet now." He says softly, "I just need to find the coordinates."
7:27pm UTC
It's just like Hugh to be cool as a cucumber in a situation like this. The rest of us are fuming, anxious, and full of dread. He's certain he can get us on course for Earth once again, but I highly doubt it. Not because I doubt his abilities as our Captain, but because I'm certain the folks at NASA specifically wired this thing to go one way and one way only. That message...Versailles specifically stated this was a one-way trip. No, that this was "one of no return."
"They expect us to die out here." I murmur, scrubbing a hand over my face.
Barry wraps his arm around my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. His presence is the only thing bringing me comfort at the moment.
"We're not gonna die," He says, though he sounds uncertain, "Betsy is working on those nutrient pills, remember?"
I laugh. Nutrient pills...something I've only read in sci-fi novels.
"Think she can do it?" I ask, "They'll have to have some sort of caloric value, y'know."
Barry nods and turns to look at me.
"If anyone can do it, she can. Hell, she's the only one who can do it."
He goes quiet for a moment before sighing heavily.
"Why'd they send us here, man?" He asks, "Me and you, I mean."
It's a good question. Why would they send such underqualified individuals to an unknown planet? As we were told: an anthropologist for learning about any sentient species found and to teach about human culture, as well as a zoologist for studying any fauna. But, we were never meant to return. So why us?
"Hell if I know, Barry," I reply, "Prob'ly 'cause we don't have a lick goin' on in our personal lives. Easy to kill people who're easy to forget."
He offers a sad smile.
"I don't think you're forgettable at all, Max."
That gets another laugh out of me, softer and more bashful this time. It's clear to me now, after all this time, that Barry and I have something special between us. I can feel it in the air when he's near and hear it in the way his voice softens when we're alone. It's not something I've ever brought up, but it is something that occupies my mind on a daily basis. The thought of being rejected in the equivalent of an airplane I'm sharing with three others for the next 4 years, however, is daunting.
"Something on your mind?"
Barry's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I shrug, resting my head on his shoulder. I've never been good with beating around the bush and there's no time like the present
"I like you a lot, Barry, but I don't know what all of this means for us."
He doesn't seem fazed by my statement and simply nods. Without any other words, he turns and kisses my cheek.