"We just have to promise to stick together," said Atlas, "no matter where they send us." The three siblings stood side by side, each boy holding one of Demeter's hands in between them. They had gone through the panic, running home down the red-glowing halls when they'd discovered the alarms going off that morning after playing in the Wilderness. They had gone through the disbelief when their parents had tearfully tried to explain why they suddenly had to leave with no warning. It had to do with some atmospheric test results from Earth being 3 years off or 3 years early or something. Atlas didn't understand, but since their mom was an atmospheric scientist, he wasn't going to argue there. Demeter said she'd explain it later, but she was in worse shape than the boys and practically unable to stop crying. They had all gone through the confusion and anger, demanding answers to any questions they could think of while their parents packed and prepared hurriedly. The kids would be staying with some family friends- neighbors they nicknamed Aunty and Uncle. Their parents said there was a chance they could reunite in some years down the road, but Pallas had done a good job discouraging them from believing that.
Now they stood in shock, behind a line made of black and yellow striped tape, with a dozen other families on the verge of being torn apart. They were in a hallway connected to the hanger where the ship their parents would leave on, The Persephone, was being prepped along with others.
"But why can't we go with them?" cried Demeter.
"Dad already explained it, Dummy," Pallas answered sternly, "They can't take whole families because the warp engines use too much energy. There's not enough left for the extra you'd need to take care of grandmas and babies like you!"
"Be nicer, Pallas," warned Atlas. Demeter punched Pallas in the arm.
"It's Deemy!" She yelled. He was about to punch her back when the adults getting ready to leave started walking over together to say their tearful goodbyes. "I don't want you to go," said Demeter towards sorrowful eyes.
"We know, baby. We don't want to go either, but we have to. We have to so other families can be safe, happy and love each other for years and years to come. I know some day you'll understand," her mother must have run out of tears by then, because her sad, tired expression was dry against her children's cheeks as she kissed and hugged them. Their father, who had always been pretty quiet, gave them each his best attempt at loving, personalized advice before squeezing them tight with his famous bear hugs. In what could never have been enough time, their parents left to board The Persephone.
Once they returned to their home, Atlas stared at the suitcases their parents had gotten out for them so they could pack to go live with Aunty and Uncle. He couldn't believe how horribly his birthday was going at this point. Just that morning they had eaten spaghetti and ice cream.
"Wait! I told mom I would give her a present! Oh no!" Demeter yelled at her brothers. Pallas looked at the clock.
"Well hurry up then, Deemy! It's probably too late anyhow," he said. Atlas was shaking his head at his brother, who, considering the events of the day, probably had a right to be in as bad a mood as he wanted. Atlas also felt like breaking everything in their living room, after all.
Demeter got out a piece of cardstock paper, scribbled a doodle and a short message to her parents, and then dragged Pallas over. He thankfully went along with it and filled out the other inside page of the makeshift card. As was tradition, they left the cover for Atlas, who was already coming over with a pen when it was his turn. He drew the Earth as best he could with 6 dots around the outside of it, to represent the 6 space colonies. He thought about writing "We love you," but in that moment didn't want to be sappy. Instead, he drew a stick figure underneath the drawing of earth to represent himself holding it all up. He knew his siblings hadn't spoken for each other on the inside of the card, so the cover could be from just Atlas, too.
"You're the only person who draws the colonies like that," Pallas gave Atlas a hard time because he always tried to draw the 6 colonies in realistic relative positions instead of just 6 evenly spaced dots around the perimeter of the planet like everyone else did.
"Let's go!" cheered Demeter as they all ran out the door towards the hangars. On their way there, though, the halls leading towards the hangars were completely jammed full with soldiers, engineers, cargo crates, and other machinery. It was hectic. Horns were honking as lifts sped by, men in hard hats were violently securing pallets of supplies with straps, and sparks were flying as welders finished some makeshift jobs.
"You guys stay here, it's dangerous," cautioned Atlas as he took the card from Pallas and started carefully jogging through the mazelike clutter towards the hangar bay.
"He just wants the last chance to say bye all to himself!" Pallas whined to Demeter. He grabbed her arm and started to follow Atlas down the hall, but a soldier had noticed them at this point and stood in their way.
"No place for kids, you'll want to watch from the observation deck," the man grunted. Atlas, near the end of the hall, looked back over his shoulder and made eye contact with Pallas.
"But my broth-" Pallas started. The soldier was clearly stressed already and raised his voice.
"Kid! I don't have time for this shit! Just get out of here!" He shooed the Pallas and Demeter back a few steps as a giant crate was wheeled across the hall in front of them, obstructing their view. When it was gone, so was Atlas.
Atlas was in the hangar and terrified he was seconds away from being caught and kicked out before reaching his parents with the card. He thought Demeter's present was silly, but took the mission to heart because he knew how much it would mean to everyone. As Atlas walked nervously into the open, a huge crash rang out from the far end of the hangar. A crane had knocked over a stack of crates and started a small fire. Atlas picked up a convenient clipboard and pretended to read it as workers from all around him ran over to the distraction. He took a deep breath, and ran towards The Persephone, of which the loading ramp was still down. There was a giant crate taking up nearly the entire width of the ramp, so Atlas had to skirt the edge around it to go up and into the ship. His feet were half off the ramp when another portal opened outside, signaling the departure of another ship. It was much closer than that morning, and the impact from the blast made Atlas slip. His head hit the protruding metal of the ship above him and clipped him as he fell off the side of the ramp into an open crate. Everything went black.
A loud grinding sound- the loudest thing Atlas had ever heard in his life- jarred him awake some time later. Only seconds after he was conscious, an intense force pressed his entire body against the inside of the crate he was in. He could barely breathe. White specks of light danced around the pitch black that had consumed his vision. His body shook and the specks turned into lines. The grinding went on for only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. Suddenly, everything stopped and Atlas gasped for air. He beat on the inside of the lid of the crate, but it wasn't budging. He yelled for help. Nothing. He screamed and struggled until he fell asleep, so Atlas had no idea how long it took before he was awake and heard someone walking around outside.
"Hey, hey!" he screamed with what little energy he had, pounding on the side of the crate. That did it.
The reactions of the crew to Atlas being on The Persephone hit both ends of the spectrum. His dad was the happiest, damning the rules and quickly dishing out more of his bear hugs. Their military crew member was the least pleased, to put it lightly. It turned out that as soon as the ship made the first jump- the jump that woke Atlas up- there was no turning back. They had to accept him as one of the crew.
The next year and a half was incredibly boring. Atlas did a lot of cryogenically assisted sleeping, reading, writing and running on a treadmill. He was by far the fastest crew member. The food wasn't great. The adults would often have conversations about potential scenarios, equations, and processes for when they reached their target planet. Atlas couldn't really keep up and since he was the only kid on the ship he had to invent ways to entertain himself after a decade of playing with his brother and sister.
When The Persephone was a few months away from making its second jump, the crew dug AGS-9 out of a crate early. They called it their secret extra crew member and explained to Atlas that the android was designed to help everyone out with everything they were working on. It was actually pretty cool. He spent a lot of his free time interacting with AGS-9 at that point, but knew he was more of a computer than a friend. It felt like he was learning how to use a tool, but in the back of his mind he pretended he was socializing.
"It's nice to meet you, Atlas. I'm AGS-9, an Autonomous General Survival android, 9th generation,"
"MENU," Atlas commanded. AGS-9 tilted its head.
"SETTINGS," Atlas said a little louder. AGS-9 turned to his father, who helped design androids for a living before they left.
"Atlas," his father laughed, "These androids are special. The AI is more advanced than anything we've had back home. You can talk to Aegeus like he's a real person!"
"He's right!" beamed AGS-9.
"Aegeus?" Atlas seemed confused.
"That's my name, don't wear it out!" joked the android. Atlas' father laughed and walked away to chat with the rest of the crew. Atlas shrugged it off and went for a run.
It was time for the second jump. This was the pinnacle of the Pilgrimage; the moment every single ship out there and every human both onboard and back home had risked it all for- the chance to find the next Earth. The crew of The Persephone threw a huge party that lasted several days for themselves, knowing full well how badly things could go once they made the jump. They had survived the journey, all that was left was to hit the button. Atlas was strapped into a seat, which was much more comfortable than the inside of a crate. If he turned his head as far as he could to look behind his seat, he saw his dad making some adjustments to AGS-9, which Atlas found strange.
"N98-CL5, here we come!" yelled the pilot when everyone was ready. Atlas' parents turned to each other and exchanged 'I love you,' then turned to Atlas and did the same. That was when Atlas' heart started racing. Much like the first jump, this one came with incredibly loud grinding, immense force, white specks, pitch black, white lines, and then everything was back to normal. The ship's interior lit up like a fire. It was incredible: they were next to a huge, bright planet. It seemed to be covered completely with clouds, but as the adults crowded around some instruments that Atlas' mother was using, they cheered over and over again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, N98-CL5 is a successful candidate!" Atlas' mother announced with as much pride and joy as he'd ever seen. She ceremoniously unlocked and flipped a switch that she had previously explained to Atlas would send a signal back home that said they would stay here to keep doing research.
"Just look at those clouds! That's such a good sign!" the pilot concurred.
"If this is it...if this is the one," the soldier, who almost never smiled, was grinning, "I swear I'll kill anything that tries to stop us from bringing rest of the human race next!" his somewhat dark input killed the mood momentarily and everyone stayed quiet.
"Uh, guys?" the pilot was indicating a disturbance in the clouds on the planet. A huge swirling gap in the clouds quickly formed, briefly exposing the world's shiny surface. Something was coming towards the ship, though. It wasn't noticeable at first, but just a disturbed ball of light, like when the heat from the grills in the cafeteria created wavy air above them. Before Atlas had a chance to ask if the others saw it too, the ship jerked violently as it was struck by the ball. Many of the console panels seemed to turn off, and the ship immediately started careening down towards the planet.
"We've lost engines!" the pilot yelled as he scrambled through any procedures he could remember in that moment. Atlas tried to run back to his seat, but the spinning ship threw him and he fell over. AGS-9 walked over carefully, the only one able to remain stable, and held Atlas secure.
"What the hell?" yelled the soldier, holding a rail with one hand and shakily trying to work a console with the other, "We're going weapons-hot! These bastards don't want to say hello? Well HELLO!" Atlas heard the mechanical doors on the outside of the ship open, allowing The Persephone's guns to activate.
"Stop talking, you idiot!" Atlas' father yelled at the soldier with wide eyes, as if he had realized something. He then turned to AGS-9 from his seat.
"We've got another one coming!" the pilot cried moment later, buckling himself in and giving up on the console in front of him.
"You know what to do!" Atlas' father said to AGS-9. Without pause, the android, now wearing a parachute, grabbed Atlas and as the falling ship flew into the atmosphere of the planet, ran to an emergency hatch out the back of the flight deck.
Atlas made eye contact with his parents. Everyone was screaming but his father, who smiled back at him. Violent wind surged into Atlas' face as AGS-9 released the hatch, exposing the ship to the atmosphere around them. He hadn't realized what was happening until AGS-9 jumped. All Atlas could do was scream, but as they fell through the air he was looking up at The Persephone. He watched as the next ball of energy careened with it not 10 seconds after they had jumped. Part of the ship crumpled as it was slammed and it shot off towards the horizon as if it had been kicked that way.
With a quiet gasp Atlas woke up.
There it was. There was the familiar, draining gray-orange hue of the constant overcast twilight on Planet Demeter. There was the hissing and crackling of the blue-green butane campfire that kept them warm, fed, and yet vulnerable. There was AGS-9's familiar hum. It wasn't the hum of some sage old man whittling some trinket and trying to stay focused by humming a song, but the hum of tiny sprockets and gears and actuators working together, not individually aware that their sole purpose was to help Atlas survive. AGS-9 was keeping their fire stoked and patrolling the small campsite, stepping in its own footprints as it continued in a repetitive circle. There was the familiar fear deep in Atlas' gut. He knew the basics of how to survive here by now. He knew how to get scraps of meat from the rat-creatures and how to filter drinkable water from the acid rain using rocks and sand. He knew to utilize AGS-9 to try to stay safe. He knew that if he waited long enough, surely his people would come find him and rescue him. In fact, Atlas didn't know exactly what he was scared of right then, but he felt like it would be a mistake to let that feeling settle.
Atlas furrowed his brow and sobbed in exasperation when he realized how familiar- how comfortable- these things were to him. He lost track of time months ago, but he'd been here too long.
"Too long....too long, too long..." he started chanting to himself.
"About 6 months" AGS-9 chimed pleasantly, as if on a command that Atlas never gave, without even a hiccup in his whirring routine.
"Thanks, Aegeus..." Atlas mumbled, shaken from his dispirited trance, before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. He had kept his back to AGS-9 the whole time, not wanting to be reminded entirely of his circumstances as he'd remained spiteful of the android's inability to feel even a little sadness, or worry, or hope.
If he had looked back at AGS-9, though, when he spoke, Atlas would have noticed his power indicator light was just a little bit dimmer than it was the last time he checked.