Road to Anywhere

The Last Mission of Major Tom

Story written for "Gloves Up | A Multi-Genre Smackdown Contest", Round 3.2 (October 2022). Genre: Science Fiction. Inspired by the song, "Space Oddity," by David Bowie.

Story word count = 3266

No matter how many times I flew into space, the spectacular views stole my breath away. From so high, the sight of our big beautiful blue marble was both awe-inspiring and humbling. All of humanity's petty squabbles faded away, but in reality, they never did. However, on this mission, I get to do something about it.

My heart grew heavy, as this was my last voyage. Decades of space travel had taken its toll on my body and relationships. It was time to hang up my spacesuit with one last symbolic action.

"Ground control to Major Tom," came a familiar song over the com.

"Very funny, Ace," I replied, rolling my eyes.

It's not so much that I didn't like the old David Bowie song, despite the tragic ending, but with every night show appearance, every charity event, and every inspirational speech, they play it when I take the stage. Eventually, it got old.

"Rise and shine, Thomas. Status?" my friend Ace said from Houston mission control.

"I'm floating in a most peculiar way," I answered, quoting the lyrics. "All hunky-dory on the Lunar Sojourn."

Actually, this was my easiest and most boring space flight ever. The capsule AI took care of everything. I was just along for the ride to Selene Base, the brand-new lunar outpost — more of a celebrity appearance than a real mission. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

I should never tempt fate like that.

The Selene Project had a grander scope than just building a permanent lunar presence, but also world peace. After the Ukraine and Mongolian conflicts, relations between Russia and the West were at an all-time low, perhaps verging on nuclear war. The Project, a joint effort between Russia and the United States, later recruiting the European Space Agency, was partly meant to defuse tensions. The talking heads continue to debate, but I believed it worked spectacularly well. People around the world focused on what could be, instead of what was. Nonetheless, the cold war still simmered like coals in a wood pile, ready to flare up at any moment.

I commanded several of the initial manned missions, bringing myself fame, but most of the construction was done remotely and robotically by Omnicorp, a worldwide corporate conglomerate that rivaled nations in power and influence. I had more than my share of behind-the-scenes disagreements with them, to put it mildly. But public perception was everything, so we forced smiles for the cameras.

"Remember your lines, Major Perez and don't forget to smile," said Mr. Zen Ito, CEO of Omnicorp, on a video com. He smiled with perfect teeth framed within an immaculately styled dark beard. "This is one for the history books."

"Yes, sir," I replied. More like one for Omnicorp's profit potential, I grumbled under my breath. They had secured exclusive lunar mining rights in the contract.

To pass the time, I scanned the Earth news headlines on my personal tablet. Scrolling past the usual celebrity drivel and anything mentioning me, a few caught my attention. The United States President spoke in full bluster mode, blaming recent electric grid blackouts on Russian hackers and promising retaliation. Not to be outdone, the Russian Foreign Minister warned the United States not to interfere in Belarus, where protesters clashed with police, or else there would be unnamed consequences. The usual political posturing.

But the next headline stole my breath. A Russian oil supertanker just exploded and sunk in the Turkish Bosporus Straight, blocking all ship access to the Black Sea. Already there were unsubstantiated rumors of state sponsored terrorism. This could get out of hand.