Perpetual Night

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I keep having the same dream, where I'm drowning. I think I'm unable to breathe, because of the water surrounding me. The truth is that I'm scared to take that first breath. Eventually, my instincts always seem to kick in and I'll take in a deep, ragged breath that every part of my brain says should be full of water. It never is, and soon I'm breathing normally again. 

That's how I feel now. Breathing through my regulator, looking up at the 10 miles of ice between me and the surface. I'm surrounded by freezing cold, uncharted ocean. The only difference between my dreams and what's happening now is that I know this is how I'll die.

I woke up to the sound of the wind howling. It was pitch black in my room in our state of the art, deep space artificial habitat. Not just any run-of-the-mill NASA habitat could withstand the conditions that came along with living on top of a frozen ocean on a moon of Jupiter. Our habitat has six bedrooms, a vertical garden for fresh produce, a kitchen, and a fully equipped lab for determining the chemical and potential biological properties of ice and water samples.  

I got out of bed and walked over to open the automated blinds, revealing the black night and the massive 30-foot wide hole we created in the ice. I could see Jupiter peaking up from the horizon. The beautiful great red spot was visible, indicating the never-ending storm.

We've been here for 14 days now. It's been six years since we left Earth. There was something different about this morning. I found myself fantasizing about Earth more than usual. I missed the feeling of the warm sun on my skin, diving in the kelp forests, the overall hustle and bustle of my hometown of San Diego. 

I really thought this would be the greatest experience of my life. Turns out trying to reside and do research on another planet that is in a state of perpetual night and perpetual winter takes a serious toll on your mental health.

There are six of us living here. There's Chris the biochemist, Susan the double trouble astrophysicist slash pilot, Ella the botanist, Micheal the engineer, Jeff the astrobiologist, then me, the marine biologist. Ever since we discovered there was an ocean under the ice of Europa, it's been a work in progress to get to this point. Where we might have the opportunity to explore its unfathomable, uncharted depths.

Our goal is to discover any possible signs of life. That hole we're creating in the ice is for our submersible that works as a multi-purpose space rover as well as a submarine. Jeff and I will be operating it, once we've accomplished penetrating the ice.

"Morning sleepyhead," said Chris, he was going over the chemical properties of more ice samples. We were usually the first two awake, along with Ella who had to be up early to tend to the garden.

"Morning, find anything interesting?" I asked him.

"More of the same, unfortunately. Not that that's a bad thing, the deeper we go hopefully the more we'll find." Chris was in his late forties. He had light brown skin and hazel eyes. The more time I spend here I hate to admit the more I've developed a crush on him.

"Hi Grace, how'd you sleep?" It was Ella, she was coming out of the room where the vertical garden was. She was the youngest one here, in her mid-thirties. She was a first-generation Chinese-American. Everything about her was petite; her frame, her height, her facial features, even her hair was chopped up in a short pixie cut.

"Hi, Ella. I slept well, aside from the sound of howling death wind accompanied by the usual bombardment of nightmares." She gave me a knowing smile. Ella and Chris had become two of my good friends. The rest of the crew shared an unfortunate tendency for being incorrigible smart asses.

"Alright team, let's get ready for another long day of extreme ice shaving," said Micheal, walking into the kitchen with his usual boisterous demeanor. He was in his late fifties, buzzed head, pale skin, and a tall muscular build; everything about him screamed ex-military. 

Jeff followed behind him, his blond hair sticking up in every which way from bed head. He was Micheal's antithesis, with his skinny, gangly frame. He had these quirky mannerisms that would be amplified after he'd put on his horn-rimmed spectacles.

"Is Susan still asleep?" asked Ella.

"Out like a light, I figured we'd let her sleep in today," said Micheal. 

Susan was having the hardest time adapting to life here, but at the time I didn't think much of it. I was having a hard time too. Funny, she and Jeff were the only ones that had actually been working for NASA before being selected for this mission. She'd had the most training out of all of us for this. Looking back, I suppose her being on the precipice of having a psychotic break should have been more obvious.

The day started the same as every day for the last 14 days before it. Micheal would operate the ice drill, more samples would be taken which Chris would analyze, Jeff and I would help. We'd also be going over safety protocol for operating the sub.

It was all pretty standard until suddenly it wasn't. The chaos that was about to ensue was enough to make me question whether there really was a God. If so, I'm convinced he had it out for us. It's hard for me to get the exact timeline straight. Everything began falling apart all around the same time.

My most vivid memory is how much blood there was in the vertical garden, and how quiet the room was. It was dripping from the leaves, deep red splatter covered the white floors. I was the one who found her. She was lying motionless in the far corner of the garden, her hand clutching what looked to be a stab wound. This had been a struggle, there was no way it was self-inflicted. Before I had time to process what was happening, the ground began oscillating violently.

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