Jupiter and Saturn

"Y'know," Tam said as she sipped at her soup. "Is it just me, or is really strange that the smallest ships we've got are named Jupiters?"

Don looked up from his burger. "What?"

"Yeah, like, it's strange that-"

"No, like, what?" he asked.

"What what?"

"What, as in, what. Or, why is that the question you're asking in the context of life, the universe, and everything."

Tam stared at him.

"Okay, first of all, yes, I have read Douglas Adams, so we'll skip the wisecracks. Second of all, considering the mystery of why you're eating soup, I'm left to ask why a question about spaceships is-"

"Don?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Oh. Okay."

Don West, crewmember of the Resolute, smuggler extraordinaire, and all-round nice guy, shrugged and took another bite from his burger. Looking away from Tam, fellow crewmember and smuggler, his gaze drifted to the windows of mess hall 4B. Ninety percent of the time, it showed the darkness of space, while the remaining ten percent was reserved for the greens and blues of Alpha Centauri. To someone unversed with space travel, it would appear that the space outside the ship was moving. Still, not being an earthworm, Don knew that it was this section of the Resolute that was rotating, the centrifugal force giving the sense of gravity. He also knew that if the universe had some God, or gods, or heck, goddesses, and they were aware of his lot in life, they were playing a cruel joke. Repeatedly teasing him with Alpha Centauri, but always reminding him that he'd never get to go down there.

"Tam," he asked.

His crewmate sighed and she looked up at him. "What?" she asked.

Don decided not to point out that there was soup dribbling down from her chin. "You didn't answer my soup question."

Tam gave him "the look."

"Like, we're above Alpha Centauri," he said. "We're in that brief window of being able to enjoy the fruits of paradise, even knowing we won't be able to live there ourselves."

"And?" Tam asked, finally picking up on the hint and wiping her chin with a napkin.

"Like, we're here, and of all the things in the four light years between here and Earth, you choose soup."

Tam frowned. "What's wrong with soup?"

"Nothing's wrong with soup, but…y'know…"

"Don, I don't know."

"Tam, it's soup."

"And?"

"And?" He took a bite from his burger, making a point to not only chew with his mouth open, but making sure Tam could see it. "Y'know they have livestock on Alpha Centauri right? Cows, sheep, heck, even kangaroos?"

"I've unload the Resolute a dozen times Don, of course I know."

"So finally, being able to be near a place where you can get nice, juicy, succulent meat, you choose, well, soup. Like, seems a waste of opportunities."

Tam raised an eyebrow.

"I mean," Don said, taking another bite into his burger. "Maybe I'm just tormenting myself. Maybe I'm just tasting paradise before being forced to head back to Earth and be reminded that Terra Firma is still a shithole. But still, to be able to eat proper-"

"Don, did you forget I'm a vegetarian?"

Don just sat there, mouth open and burger in his hands.

"Well?" Tam asked.

"Um…" He put the burger down on his plate. "You never told me."

"No, I did."

"Did not."

"No, I did. You just forgot."

"Oh." He really didn't remember Tam telling him any such thing, but if this was a case of "he said she said," people like Tam Roughneck were always going to come out on top. "Okay then."

"Right. Okay then." Tam pushed her soup towards the centre of the table. Don, for his part, had some fries.

"Want some?" he asked.

"No, I'm good."

"Oh. Okay. More for me then."

"What about my Jupiter question?"

"What?" Don asked, going through his chips.

"God's sake Don, finish eating."

"Sure. Okay." He did just that. "Oh. I did say something when I was eating, didn't I?"

"Yes," Tam said icily. "But forgetting that, the Jupiters. Why are such tiny pods called Jupiters?"

Don shrugged. "Sounded better than Uranusus?"

Tam punched his arm.

"Ow!"

She hit him hard.

"The hell was that for?"

Tam sighed. "Jupiter. Largest planet in the Sol system. King of the gods in the Roman pantheon."

"Yes, I do know first grade mythology, thanks for asking."

"And these itty bitty spaceships that turn into permanent accommodation on Alpha Centauri…" Tam nodded towards the window, once again showing the verdant planet below. "Like, why?"

Don shrugged. "Does there have to be a reason?"

"In the twentieth century, there were the Saturn rockets," Tam said. She leant forward, and Don could tell that Tam was in her geeking out phase. "Like, really huge. Huge enough to get into space."

"As opposed to rockets that don't go into space?"

"Absolutely huge!" Tam exclaimed. She shaped her hands around an imaginary cylinder, and ran them up and down to convey the rockets' size. "Ground-breaking at the time."

"Fascinating," Don murmured.

"And now?" Tam asked. "Now we're using family-sized pods called Jupiters. Jupiters!" She leant back in her chair and folded her arms. "Absolute travesty if you ask me."

Don couldn't help but smirk.

"What?" Tam snapped.

"You're cute when you're angry, you know that?"

She got her right hand ready to punch him and-

"And you're not cute when you go homicidal."

Her hand slowly lowered down, and the madness (and geekery) in Tam's eyes subsided. For now, at least.

"That bad huh?" Don murmured.

Tam gave him a look, but didn't say anything. For his part, Don took another bite from his burger and looked at the window again, once again showing Alpha Centauri. A planet on Earth's metaphorical doorstep. A planet that was so Goldilocks, the three bears had fled into the stars. A planet that only Earth's best, brightest, and richest could ever hope to settle on.

Don was smart. He knew he was smart, because you didn't get to work on deep space vessels without being smart. But he wasn't rich, and nor was Tam. People like them, they got to serve Earth's best and brightest as they fled their dying world to settle in Eden. They had the privilege of a few hours of breathing non-recycled air, and seeing a sky that wasn't filled with dust, before returning to their ship, heading back to Earth, and beginning the cycle all over again. And even with his smuggling of contraband to white collars willing to pay for it, it wasn't enough to allow him to stay there. And unless things changed, it never would be.

"Don?"

He looked at Tam. She was smiling, and looking a lot less cranky.

"Hmm?" He ate some more fries.

"You ever think of staying there?" Tam asked. "Like, jumping ship like sailors did centuries ago?"

He shrugged.

"Come on, you must have thought about it."

"Alpha Centauri's Eden. And like Eden, it's got a bearded cunt in charge of things who doesn't want people not doing what they're told."

"…Governor Redgrave doesn't have a beard."

"Point taken," Don said. "But, y'know…apples, trees, serpents, insert metaphor about fall of man or something."

"Yeah, sure," Tam murmured. She looked at the window again. "But still…"

Don waited for something. Anything. Words, a sigh, a glance, anything. But nothing. Just the constant spinning of the Resolute, and the quiet conversations of the crew. A ghost crew as the case was, as they headed back to Earth. People came to Alpha Centauri to start new lives; they didn't go back to Earth to return to their old ones.

"So what now?" Don asked.

"Now?" Tam asked. "Now, we go back on the Resolute, get a month's shore leave, then transfer back to the shipto join the twenty-fourth AC expedition."

"We're conducting an expedition to an air conditioner?"

Tam punched him.

"Ow!"

"Heh, baby."

"But that hurts."

"Yeah, well…" Tam reached over, but instead of punching him, took part of his burger and popped it in her mouth.

"Hmm." She chewed the meat, clearly savouring it. "This is good. This is really good."

Eyes narrowed, Don murmured, "thought you said you were a vegetarian."

"Flexitarian. Completely different."

"No, you said…" Don threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine. Whatever. Enjoy my food. Not like I paid for this. Like, I didn't choose soup, or-" He slapped her hand as she reached for the fries. "Hands off."

"Okay, okay…"

Don looked at the window. Hands off. Look but not touch. The planet below, once again in view, was practically emblazoned with those words.

But the view shifted. The darkness returned. And Don West was reminded of his lot in life. Adrift, ever caught between two words. One dying, one growing. He, between the two. Lost and adrift.

Lost in space.