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(>View: TICKET TO_ THE N MOON THE MOON
"It seems like everybody's got a story to tell.", I said. "So I'll tell mine."
Back in '89, the government finally began funding the space stations. They
called it 'Project Station', and that lasted for a while. People pick up on
the slang quickly, and they became known as orbitors. Just simply that. Way,
way back before I was born, they had this film called '2001', with all life
being on these orbitors. That's not really that true, mostly we're still
experimenting with them. Every little development would be exploited in the
news, just like it was with the pathetic little shuttle experiments. I guess
they wasted all that money to see if they could do it.
Here, I can't say 'up'. We readjusted our vocabulary to fit the area. There's
no up, unless you're working with our artificial gravity. We get these new
words, too, like 'moonrise' and shit like that. The sun reflecting off the moon
and all that jazz, I was never into science much. But I do think, which is much
more than a lot of this bunch does. Working on little shit things, like growing
plants in space, big deal. At least, it was important to them.
Once you're living in an orbitor, you don't want to ever go back to Earth.
I mean, who would? You're eating naturally here, with no artificial shit.
Except maybe the lights, and that's supposed to cause cancer, but that's just
speculation. I told you I thought about these things.. In '91, the crime rate
rose 21%, which is really sad if you ask me. You look out your window on Earth,
and the sky is grey. We really fucked the place over. The water's no good,
especially on the east coast of the US. Filters are a need, not just a luxury
anymore. About that crime rate, I should tell you my story.
I murdered an entire family. On an orbitor. Hey, the thing that pisses on me
the most, is that I don't feel bad. Now, I don't know if I should. Oh, first,
let me tell you about the moon. The government was putting funds into getting
a colony living on the moon since the late 80's, so they got something started
there about five years back. Some smart-ass in the Senate had this idea.. Send
criminals to the moon, to serve a prison sentence. Every once in a while, you
would read in the guide about 'moon riots', and how the criminals almost govern
themselves. Every little left-wing group is screaming about the waste of money,
and the inhumanity of it all. Sure, I thought it was a good idea, until I got
my ticket. They call it a 'ticket to the moon'. Scary shit you got there,
fiction writers thrive on writing about it, the horror stories you read in the
guide about it, that's enough to set anybody straight. Believe me.
Like I said, most of the food on an orbitor is natural. They like to call it
organic, but I always think of a pile of feces when somebody says 'organic'.
I can get into wires, circuits, microchips, that's what makes sense. They're
logical, not like the shit people living here. I'm a worker, that's why I'm
here, living God-knows-how-many miles above the Earth. I was responsible, and
I've come to hate that word. The family of five that was in the airlock at the
time, they weren't wearing suits or any gear, and it's supposed to be a rule.
Now, I was told by the Judge that the suits were blown off, but I know they
didn't have any on. I don't know what they were doing there, going down to the
galley, to the booths, but I guess they didn't want to hassle with the gear.
So, I'm working on this patch on the floor above. I've taken out most of the
main boards to do with sunlight/power conversion, and their airlock drops.
They said it was the same thing as being dropped from a thirty-story building,
they all died. I didn't even know they were in there, I had the whole thing
apart, and I'm going through it with this really ancient logic probe, when a
main point blows. Too much on the line at once, then, I heard the screams.
The airlock/lift fell down, and I saw the aftermath. It was blood, and a lot
of it. The first disaster on an orbitor, save the three dead two years back
before. Those three were doing some assembling work on the frame, out of the
orbitor, and a welding tank blew. Their carelessness set us back a year.
I was the only worker on shift at that time, and it was my fault for the
disconnection. It was a quick trial, and I'm surprised they even bothered.
They could have just said "You're guilty, get the fuck out.", but not even
close. It was so quick, I was expecting the ticket. I got a ticket to the moon.
I was prepared, but I still cried in the court. Not for the family, but for me.
Twelve days later, and they haven't decided what to do with me yet. Most of the
time was spent in this cell. It's all metal, metal bunk, cold cold metal. I'm
mostly in a black suit, some of it plastic. When I first came in, it was the
usual 'stay on the blue line walk straight ahead hands on your head asshole'
rift. I was arrested for small-time arson on Earth, but that was ten years ago,
and that record was sealed. Underage, you know the story.
There was this lady, dark-skinned bitch, her and two other officers got me into
this suit, and beat on me for a while. It's like this, I can't take the suit
off, and I don't dare escape. I couldn't get out of the cell anyhow. Where do
you run in space? To the other end of the hallway? IF, I ran off, ALL she has
to do, is PUSH this button, and my muscles short-circuit. That's they way she
explained it to me, something about nerve connections. I'm not a scientific-
kind-of-guy. So, most of the week, I've been living in fear of that button most
of the week, but I figure they won't off me for the sake of it. No point, all
that paperwork they'd have to do.
The thirteenth day was odd, to say the least. Two other people were put in my
cell. I have the impression that I am not on an orbitor anymore, but instead on
a transport cruiser elsewhere. Just a small ship, no bigger than your average
city park, going 'round and 'round like the rest. The first person in here is
from Earth.
He's skinny, and I never got a name from him. He murdered somebody on Earth,
and he's going to the moon just like me. He's scared, came in with his outfit
soiled around the crotch, and they beat on him worse than me. It doesn't look
like he'll last long, he's missing some teeth, and all he does is laugh at
everything.
The second guy is more important to me. He was old, about 49 years, and he
remembers a lot of the past. That's some interesting shit, sometimes. He says
he knows the truth. I don't know what he did to get a ticket, but he doesn't
look like he could do much. We had some long conversations about the 1970's.
They took him and killed him the seventeenth day.
I'll tell you a secret that the old man told me. There's no moon prison. They
just take fuckers like me up above, and blow our brains out. Liberals on the
planet would shit if they found out that the billions of dollars were going
towards killing criminals. There's no prison, the guide lied. Soon, they'll
kill me, too, unless I have some sort of value. I don't. I hope it will be
quick, I do. I do belong here, but I don't want to die. They lied.
"I've got a ticket to the moon..
I'll be rising high above the Earth so soon..
Yeah, I've got a ticket to the moon..
But I'd rather see the sun rise.. in your eyes.."
- ELO, Time.
May 12th, 1986.
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