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Published by PUSAT SUMBER PUTRA, 2021-01-30 11:36:24

Final_Frontier_Fritschle

Final_Frontier_Fritschle_YW

The Final Frontier

Collin Fritschle
5/19/2011

© Collin Fritschle, 2011

Chapter I

It was a day like any other. What Jackson didn‟t know was it would be one of few before
one of the most interesting journeys in the history of mankind. The Florida sun was shining
bright on his face. On the beach seagulls crowded a sand dollar. Girls laid on the beach on top of
towels in bright colors. Surfers rode waves onto the beach near the world famous Ron Jon Surf
Shop. Kids played in the sand digging, trenches or building sand castles. But he was heading
inland, away from the bliss of the beach and sun and to the NASA launch facility.

There were seven launch sites. Most of them strictly for ICBMs, but one exclusively for
manned missions. The launch site was within sight of the launch facility. Sitting on the pad was a
rocket. The largest tank was a bright red, unlike the orange they used to use. Around it were
three yellow boosters which powered the rocket from launch. The last part was a sort of mini
rocket. In the top was the actual pod the crew would fly in. The booster would disconnect in the
upper atmosphere and the pod would be sent flying at the moon. In two days Jackson and three
other men would be stuck in the ship until they reached the moon, and then sent back again.

Inside, the facility was lined with white walls. Grey swirled tiles paved the hallway.
Lights blared overhead, and the sound of electricity buzzed in the air. Jackson stood in a room
with several hallways branching off. The one he just came from lead only to a glass door and to
the parking lot. In front of him was a desk with an old lady behind it. She beckoned him to the
desk although she was on the phone. She quickly scrawled on a paper and slid it and a pen to
him. Name it said on the top. In thick, looping cursive he wrote Jackson Parker. She hung up the
phone. Below where he wrote his name a few other sections lay. Age, gender, and reason for
coming were all listed on the paper. He wrote 42 on the line beside age. Checked Male beside

gender, checked Employee and wrote on Commander, Astronaut the space next to it. He handed
the form back and set the pen on the desk. The lady rolled her chair over to the computer and
after a few clicks on a mouse and a couple of key presses on the keyboard, a pass with his picture
showed up on the computer screen. A few seconds and some ink later, he had the pass in his
hands. She smiled and held up a hand in a “good-bye” and he walked off. The hallway he
followed turned to the left almost immediately.

Security guards armed with automatic weapons stood beside a metal detector. He showed
them his pass. He took out his cell phone, keys, and everything else in his pockets and put them
in a bin beside the metal detector. The guards took apart his phone, checking for explosives.
After they found he was carrying nothing dangerous, they gave him back his stuff on the other
side. He nodded as he passed.

Now inside the main area of the complex, he headed towards a small health office inside
the facility. “Medical Check,” he said as he as he walked inside. He showed the nurse there his
ID card.

“Ok, Mr. Parker, we can begin shortly,” the nurse wearing pink scrubs said, gesturing to a
chair in the corner.

He sat down in the chair. It was uncomfortable. Like all medical stuff he thought. The
room, in an attempt to be cheery, was painted pink with a white border that ran around the room
and that went into all the other rooms. In the waiting room, a table sat with old, neglected
magazines. A bookshelf sat beside it with dictionaries and medical thesauruses. About ten feet
away, stood the desk with the nurse behind it, typing something on a laptop. The chair he was

sitting in was a light blue. The desk, bookshelf, and table were all a light wooden color. Tiles
colored like tuna checkered among the white tiles in a large grid.

“Ok, sir,” the nurse said after some time. “We‟re ready. Astronaut, right?”

He paused. “Yeah.”

He followed her as she walked around the desk, through a hallway, and into a room.
Inside was a window facing another dark room, a treadmill, and a radio.

“Ok, Mr. Parker. You‟re going to have to run on this treadmill for as long as you can
right after I hook up these machines. These tests will make sure you are still physically and
mentally ready for the mission,” the nurse explained, although Jackson wasn‟t listening.

After she slipped on a heart monitor and some other equipment that Jackson had no clue
what they did, she told him to run. “Run for as long as possible and then we‟ll see if you pass.
We will tell you to stop if you exceed the time required for a perfect score, or if we feel it is in
any way endangering you. What kind of music do you like?”

“Anything that isn‟t rap or Beethoven,” he replied.

“Begin -Now!” She clicked a stop watch as she said this. She also walked over to the
music player and put in a CD.

When he heard what was playing, he moaned in despair; classical music ranging from
Beethoven to Mozart. Soon though, they learned he didn‟t mind the Mozart, and turned it off.
Must have been my heart rate he thought. Must have figured it was better than Beethoven and
turned it off. Although the music was horrible, the pain from running was even worse. His lungs
felt as if they were on fire and as if his heart would fail, but he kept on pushing through. One foot

in front of the other he said to himself over and over. One foot. The other foot. One foot. The
other foot.

I’ve worked my entire life for this he thought. Inside a voice was yelling for him to quit.
You can’t quit now. You’ve worked your entire life for this. You can’t quit! As soon as he thought
this a buzzer went off. The treadmill turned off and Jackson got off. The music quit. I hope I
didn’t fail.

Chapter II

Coming into the room with a clipboard, the nurse said cheerfully, “Well, well, Mr.
Parker. Very good. You passed this test. There are still some medical exams and one more test
though.”

“What shall we be doing now?” he asked.
“Please, lay down on the bed, and you‟ll find out,” she said with a faint smile.
He laid down on the uncomfortable bed. “Now,” she said, “We‟re going to do another
test. The rules are simple. Lie down. Don‟t move. Keep your hands at your sides. You can
always quit the test, and we will stop immediately.”

Before leaving the room, she slid a metal coat rack, as Jackson thought of it, over. On it
was an IV bag filled with a clear liquid. It had a needle on it, but it looked as if the syringe was
attached to the rack. Looking closer, he could see that there was a metal box with several buttons
on the top of the rack, just above the IV bag. From the table he could see the nurse through the

window and in the other room. He looked back up. Water slowly gushed from the bag onto his
face. Isn’t this illegal? he said to himself. The nurse placed a red bandana over his nose and
mouth.

The water pouring over his nose and mouth made him feel like he was drowning. He
knew that this test could not last. Jackson noticed a pattern; every 20 seconds or so the machine
paused for several seconds. Every time it did so, Jackson took a gulp of air. Just like swimming
he thought. Heights were not a fear for Jackson. He loved flying. He hated water. Sure, he swam
in the pool and as a teen went surfing, but he had always had a fear of drowning.

If the continuous fall of water on his forehead wasn‟t enough, the music made it
unbearable. Beethoven and other classical music roared from the radio like a rock concert. Oh
great. Got anything else you want to tell them you hate? The voice in his head was screaming at
him. Maybe tell them to eat a cheeseburger in front of you, too. How about they watch the
football game you are missing just out of your sight. He pushed the voice away. It wasn‟t
helping.

Right when he thought he could take no more, the water stopped gushing out. It slowed to
a drip and dripped aimlessly onto his face. The nurse came out again with the clipboard.

“You‟ve passed all the tests,” she said in a tone that showed no happiness for him. Oddly,
it was nice to have somebody that did not obsess over his being an astronaut. “You‟ve still a
medical exam to complete, but we will not do that today.”

“So I can go-“ from this awful place he almost said, but caught himself, “home?” He
asked at last.

“Yeah.”

“Ok then, I guess-“

She interrupted him, “Oh I almost forgot! The Commander wants to see you.”

“Office?” He asked it in a tone that said I’ve never been here before, so where is he?

“Yeah. Red hallway. Near where it meets with the yellow hallway.” Before he could ask
any more questions, she walked out.

Going back through the waiting room and back to the grey hallways, he noticed a single
band of color along the center of the ceiling. Deciding on going left, the way he had not been,
lead him down a hallway filled with sliding blast doors. More and more people appeared. Mostly
technicians but also accountants and secretaries. As he followed the hallway, more and more
people appeared. After a final right turn, he stood at a huge intersection. Above him he saw the
green line go across to another hallway and along a huge hallway to the right. Also along the
huge hallway, the red and yellow lines ran as far as he could see.

Deciding again to turn left, he followed the red line. Turns filled the hallway, but it kept a
relatively straight path. Eventually, Jackson came to another intersection. The red lines turned off
into each of the side hallways. This red hallway was bigger than the green, but smaller than the
other red. Looking down the right side he saw more closed blast doors. On the right side a map
on the wall stood alone. Jackson looked at the map. He could now see the layout of the building
easily. The building was mostly labs for rocket engines and things Jackson had no clue of, but 4
main hallways ran through the complex, all given a color. The yellow hallway was the main
hallway. It ran from the waiting room to a blast door. On the other side of the blast door the

purple hallway began running off the map. Stuff I can’t know about he thought. Also on the
poster he saw the green hallway. It ran in a small square near the waiting room. In a bigger
square around the green hallway the red hallway stood. Now he could see his position in the
building clearly. A star marked where he was. Following this hallway there would be yet another
turn to the left and several offices. The Commander‟s would be the first he came to.

He followed the hallway around to the Commander‟s office. The office was like a bunker
inside of a bunker. At the entrance a blast door could slide in locking them safely inside. For
everyday use though, there was a glass door right behind the blast door. He walked through the
blast door. The walls were all grey with no attempt to try to brighten the room. The standard dull
lights blared on. In the room as he immediately went in, was a metal detector and several armed
guards. Before Jackson had to try to get through this checkpoint, The Commander came out.

The Commander‟s real name was John O‟Kelly but he went by all at work by The
Commander. He was tall and muscular, having been in Air Force Pararescue, with short black
hair. His eyes were amber brown. He had a thick neatly trimmed moustache.

“Commander O‟Kelly,” Jackson said coolly. Although John O‟Kelly was currently a
Major in the United States Space Force, Jackson had left the Air Force as a Lieutenant Colonel.

“I believe on this mission I am your superior,” O‟Kelly said calmly but commanding.

“That you are. So Commander, what was I called here for?”

“We‟ve moving your launch to tomorrow. Storms are coming and we will miss the flight
window if we do it at the planned time.”

“I haven‟t had my physical yet, sir,” Jackson explained.

“No time for it. Now, get out.”

Jackson hurried out. Although the space program was military run since 2013, the
astronauts and many technicians were civilians. Civilians with high clearance levels, but civilians
none the less. O‟Kelly could have him replace with little more than a phone call.

Jackson left the building quickly. This time he followed the large yellow hallway to the
exit. As he stepped in the car he got a phone call. He immediately recognized the voice as
Nicholas Ward, one of the three other crew members on the ship.

“Sir, have you heard?” The voice on the other end sounded angry.

“About what, Nicholas?”

“Well the moved flight time, of course! I can‟t believe they did that, I haven‟t even
prepared.”

“Well nothing we can do now.” Jackson paused. “Let‟s get all the crew together for a
meal before we go. Tortuga de Taco?”

“Yeah, sure. I‟ll call them up. How about five-ish?”

“Yeah, ok.”

Nicholas climbed into an old van from the 1960s. The light blue paint was chipping and
whenever he was asked why he didn‟t get a new car he always replied “This old thing can do
everything a surfer wants.” The odd thing was, Nicholas didn‟t surf. Jackson watched as the van
roared to life. The smell of gasoline filled the air and Jackson bit back a cough. He stood next to
his truck looking at the stars for a moment before getting inside and driving to Tortuga de Taco.

The restraint itself was little more than plywood strung together with nails and more than
a little duct tape. Near the entrance a somewhat sturdy room with a ceiling housed the kitchen.
Outside a big wooden fence stretched in an immense square. Wooden beams loomed overhead.
Plastic table and cheap umbrellas filled the room for customers they never had.

They served nachos, tacos, and burritos. The nachos were little more than chips covered
in cheese and ground beef. The tacos the same save for scraps of lettuce and tomato. The
burritos, however, were enchanting and a local secret. Few tourists ever stumbled across the
place and even fewer went in, detoured by the wooden totems and skulls decorating the place.

Jackson went to a window. May as well eat while they’re not here he thought. A young
girl probably at her first job waited there with a big smile.

“Steak Burrito and a Coke please,” Jackson said, pulling out several bills.

“What kind?” She asked politely.

Jackson paused. “Do you have Mountain Dew?”

“Sure do. I‟ll have it up in a minute.” She handed him a receipt with the number 12
written in red and circled. Order Number it said beside it.

Jackson sat at a rickety plastic table slowly drinking the cool can of Mountain Dew. Two
cars, one Nicholas‟s van, pulled into the parking lot almost simultaneously. Will Hall, the
technician for the mission, came in a 1969 Dodge Charger that pulled up. They ordered together
and sat down next to Jackson. They sat in silence staring across the road, over the sand, past the
ocean, and to the sky.

“Order 12!” They heard the girl call from the window with a foil wrapped burrito on the
counter. Under it some napkins sat fluttering in the wind.

Jackson grabbed the burrito from the window and sat down with Nicholas and Will.
Another car pulled into the driveway. Samuel Bennett, the geologist, came out of this one. He
stood at the window for a near eternity order what sounded like enough to feed everybody in the
state of Florida.

“Order 13 and 14!” They heard shouted from the window. Both Nicholas and Will
walked to the window and brought back themselves a burrito. Jackson sat in silence still with his
burrito unopened. Nicholas and Will did the same. Samuel sat down across from Nicholas, to
Jacksons left side.

“Well, why are we here?” Will asked abruptly. By now Samuel had gotten his food, two
orders of nachos, five burritos, and four tacos. He gave everyone at the table an additional burrito
and a taco. They split the nachos.

“Do we need a reason? We will be stuck together on the moon. We may as well get to
know each other.” Jackson said. He disliked Will. No, dislike was too weak. He hated Will. The
four ate, laughed, and talked.

“Will, how is your wife?” Samuel asked. Jackson‟s smile faded at the question. “Oh, and
your kids of course.”

Samuel did not know of The Situation. The Situation was what Jackson thought of it as.

“Well, Sam. My wife,” he emphasized it and paused, “is doing fine. The kids too. The
oldest is going to Kindergarten right after I come back.”

“That‟s good.”
Abruptly Jackson spoke. “Well, I think I‟m going to go. Nicholas, Samuel.” He nodded
to them in a friendly manor. He stared at Will‟s blue eyes. “Will.” he said at last. After several
handshakes and more good-byes Jackson left. He drove his truck to his apartment and fell asleep
on the couch near instantly.

Chapter III

Jackson woke at the blaring sound of his alarm. He got dressed and ready in a hurry.
Today was the big day. Thank God they did away with that quarantine policy he thought as he
scratched his chin. He got dressed in a hurry. Everything he was going to take up was on the ship
already. He heard a knock at the door. Outside was a tall man in a blue NASA shirt.

“Sir, the van is ready to take you to the launch site.”
Jackson walked in. His other 4 crew members were already in the van waiting. The van
was white with the NASA insignia on the back. “For the benefit of all” read across the side.
Yeah, for the benefit of all in the US he thought. The van sped off. Shortly after leaving his street
two police cars fell in front of and behind them. Their sirens blaring, they cut a path for the van.
The police fell away and were replaced with a Humvee as they entered the military base
around the launch site. He went into the building. The building was small and square. On one
side large windows faced the launch pad and several sky lights showed a view of the sky. At the

front door two armed guards stood at attention. On the far side two rooms, one marked with a
green stripe over the door and the other with a red stripe, stood. They cut the already small
building in half. The four astronauts walked into the red striped door.

Inside of the small room in the little building there was a little table.
“It‟s like a doll house,” Jackson said under his breath.

On the table four orange jumpsuits were laid out. Hanging near the door was four Launch
and Landing suits, LLs as they were called, with a name written on tape above each one. They
put on their suits joking and laughing and exited the room like giant marshmallow men. They left
their helmets off until just before launch. They got back into the van and were driven to the
launch tower where they entered the shuttle.

Chapter IV

“T minus nine minutes,” came across the intercom. Shortly after came: “We are cleared
for launch.” The astronauts all peered down through their helmets at the tiny clocks around the
cockpit. The clocks read 00:07:30 when the arm retracted leaving the rocket unsupported on the
launch pad. Two minutes now. The astronauts struggled against the straps and restraints keeping

them in their seats to flick their visors down.
“Five. Four. Three. Two.” The voice paused. “Millennium, you are a go for launch.”

Outside them the ground began shaking. A white smoke drifted over their windows,
obscuring their vision. Even with a sound barrier, 6 feet of steel, and a helmet, they could hear
the rumble of the engines. From the ground spectators watched from across the wide river and at

smoke covering the trees. The rocket shot off into the air. As they broke through the smoke the
astronauts could look out the windows. The world seemed to be shrinking under them. The
launch pad grew smaller and smaller. Soon, all of Florida was visible. The tall white boosters
attached to their rocket broke off, falling towards the Atlantic.

A loud, heavily accented Texas voice came across their intercom, “Millennium, this is
Houston.”

Jackson struggled against the incredible force against him to press the talk button on his
chair.

“This is Parker. No problems so far.”
“You‟re going to be detached from the rocket soon. Shortly after that I‟ll give you the all
clear to move around the cabin. Do you copy?” The Texas voice waited for his reply.
“We copy.”

Chapter V

Jackson felt the rocket slowing. He regained his ability to move his hands around.
Suddenly, the rocket detached. A new window was uncovered and they could see the rocket
spinning above Earth.

Jackson pressed the button again. “This is Parker. The rocket has detached. Repeat, the
rocket has detached.”

“Houston copies. You may release the restraints if you wish.”

Jackson flipped his visor up and saw his other crewmates releasing the straps keeping
them in. Jackson hurriedly released his.

Samuel spoke up, breaking their shocked silence. “Isn‟t it awesome?”

Jackson shot him a glance but then said simply, “Yes. Yes it is. Will you knock it off!”
Jackson shouted at Nicholas, who had been doing summersaults in the cabin.

“Lighten up, Jackson,” Will said challenging.

“No. I‟m Commander on this flight. I am here to make sure everything goes smoothly.”
Jackson looked at him with hate filled eyes.

“You couldn‟t even keep your marriage running smoothly.” Will spoke before he could
realize what he had said.

Samuel and Nicholas looked at them stunned. Looking at Jackson‟s reactions and Will‟s
shocked face. Jackson stood up and floated near Will. “What‟d you just say?” he asked r
hetorically. “What did you just say?” he angrily yelled.

Will looked at him through his blue eyes calmly. “I said „you were a bad husband.‟”

Jackson drew back his arm and clenched his hand into a fist. He punched Will directly
beneath the eye. Will‟s calm eyes turned to that of anger. Pushing off the wall of the spaceship
he flew himself at Jackson. Samuel grabbed Will‟s arms and pulled him away. Nicholas grabbed
Jackson but he broke his grasp and swung another punch and Will, crashing into his nose.
Nicholas swung Jackson away from Will. When he turned around Samuel was handing Will a
white hand towel to stop the bleeding.

“What the hell, dude?” Nicholas said still firmly holding him.

Jackson snorted and drifted back to the controls.

Nicholas picked up the radio. “Houston, Ward speaking.”

“We copy.”

“One of our crew members,” he paused, “hit his nose. It‟s bleeding pretty good.”

“Alright. You‟re going to need to grab one of the clear containers to the left of the
captain‟s chair. The blood could get in somewhere and damage something. Make sure you get it
all,” he warned.

“Copy. Ward out.”

Nicholas pulled out two clear plastic containers. He tossed one to Samuel. Because of
being in space, liquids grouped together. This made it easy to catch but hard to find the smaller
drops which floated away into the far corners of the pod. One by one they collected all the
clumps of blood.

By this point, Will had stopped the bleeding and was going back to work, checking
instruments and drifting around the cabin doing various tasks that didn‟t need to be done.
Sulking; and Will knew it. He looked at his handheld computer. The red dot, showing where they
were, was nearing an orange dot. “We‟re nearing the space station!” Will shouted loudly, “five,
maybe ten, minutes.”

They floated back beside their chairs for docking. The pod swung up sharply and began
swinging left. The computer controlled the docking. From the pod‟s small windows they could

see the crew on the space station gathered looking at the pod. The engines stopped feet away
from the space station, floating the pod towards it. The heard the clamps secure the pod and they
heard the air hissing between the pod and the space station, assuring that the air pressure will be
equal when the doors are opened. The crew of the space station had aluminum crates stacked
beside the door, ready to be carried into the pod for their mission to the moon. The pod was also
depositing goods to the space station such as fresh fruit, clothes, and several scientific
instruments. The hissing air stopped. The doors swung open. Both crews immediately flooded
through the maze of crates to greet each other. For the astronauts of the space station, this had
been the first contact with new people for nearly half a year.

There were about 15 astronauts on the space station. They quickly surrounded the crew.
“Man, you guys are lucky. Making history. We‟d be lucky if someone had even heard about us.”

“But y‟all are doing an equally important job,” Samuel said kindly, “You‟re pioneers.
Paving the way of living in space. Plus you‟ve developed some amazing things. Pills that keep
you from losing too much body mass in space? Amazing! And we wouldn‟t even be on this
mission if you hadn‟t developed super-compressed gas.”

Parker stepped on his toe before he could continue. He leaned over and whispered in his
ear, “This mission is secret. Not even they know about it.”

“Oh,” he said mumbling. Parker glared at him for a few moments before looking away.

“As great as it is being here with you, we need to get these crates on board and get ours
off. Come on, boys.” Parker commanded.

Still laughing, the men carried all the crates off the pod. Then they brought the crates for
the journey to the moon on board the pod. In minutes, the crates were secured. Along with
bringing the crates to the moon, they were also taking part of the space station to the moon. They
sealed the door with a final “good-bye” from the astronauts. Will input some string of code into a
console on the wall and they heard the clamps securing the new section of the pod to the space
station, release. The pod drifted from the space station before igniting it‟s thrusters again,
sending it flying towards the moon once more.

Chapter VI

Parker heard a small sound. Ping. Ping. These sounds continued. Around him his crew
was looking for the source of the sound. A bolt flew from somewhere and landed beneath
Parker‟s chair.

“What the-“ Parker said as another bolt few around the cabin. Another bolt. Parker spun
in his chair looking where the bolt came from. He got up and walked towards the back of the
ship. He saw several bolts rattling in their metal holes. Another flew out beside him.

“Parker, what‟s back there?” The rest of the crew came up behind him. Peering over his
shoulder.

“Jesus,” Will said running over to examine the wall. Bolts that secured the ship together
were flying apart. “Drill!” Will yelled, “find me my drill!”

The crew scrambled looking for a drill. As they were doing so more bolts were flying
around the cabin. Only a few left securing the wall to the rest of the ship.

“Will,” Parker began quietly, “We‟re going to die? Right?”

Will didn‟t answer. The crew gathered around him.

“Jackson, sir.” Samuel said looking at him, his eyes near tears, “it has been an honor
working with you.”

They faced the wall for a moment. One bolt left to hold the wall in place. The wall shot
into space at incredible speeds. Everything else slid out in the endless vacuum of space. For
Jackson it seemed like an eternity before he was sucked out. The air was rushing out past him.
He looked back and the ship now floating on the background of space. He blacked out, never to
wake again.


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