Void

[14] Accretion

Chapter 14 - Accretion: The process by where dust and gas accumulated into larger bodies such as stars and planets.

Edmund

I quickly realize just how much order is stressed on the SSRC island.

Everyone arrives the first day of training, right on time, in the dark gray jumpsuits left by our doors. In fact, there are exactly eighty-eight of us left (some backed out yesterday, no doubt intimidated by the duration of the trip), meaning seventy-eight will have to pack up and ship out at the end of the week.

Usually, I wouldn't be worried. I'm by no means bragging, but four years playing on the varsity soccer team kept me in shape. Some of these kids look like they haven't seen the sun in years. But the tight-lipped, bright bleached-white suited employees here on the SSRC island aren't just looking for how we compare physically, but also mentally. And at least half of these kids' parents have won Nobel Prizes or are bestselling authors. Maybe both.

"Anne," I whisper to her. "What are our chances here?"

Anne furrows her brows--something she often does when thinking deeply--and takes a breath, ready to calculate. "If we put together our combined attributes, average our agility and strength parameters, compare it to the epitome specimen of an astronaut, and eliminate some of the obviously weaker competitors from this equation..." She sighs and I can almost see numbers whooshing around her head. "Still not great."

"You still want to make it, right?"

"Well of course I do," She rocks back and forth on her heels, still only reaching my shoulder's height as she does so. "I thought getting accepted would be enough to satisfy me, but now that I see how close we are... it just makes me want it that much more, you know?"

She looks up at me and I can see it in her eyes just how desperately she wants this. I've seen the same look before, mostly on days when I helped bring out the telescope. Except now her eyes are sharper, clearer, and much more focused.

I decide to make a silent goal that no matter what happens, I must focus solely on her moving on through the program, even if it means I get left behind.

A woman with a tablet stands from the desk she had been waiting in. She crosses the room, her black heels tapping with every short stride, her voice comes out quiet but somehow still commanding.

"I am Dr. Eliza Myers. I have been given the job of overseeing your mental and physical wellbeing for this week and the month after, for those who make it." She says that as an afterthought. Her gaze is glued to the tablet instead of us. "I'm sure we will all get to know each other quickly."

Her face doesn't change expressions at all, even her voice is flat. Her eyelids droop and I wonder if they're always like this or she's just exhausted.

"Today is my favorite of this week. I like to call it Tycho Brahe Day."

A sniffling boy a few rows down clears his throat. "The Danish nobleman and noted astronomer, astrologer, and alchemist, ma'am?"

"How many Tycho Brahes could possibly there be?" I mumble under my breath. Anne notices and elbows me in the ribs, but not before I catch her muffling a laugh.

"Yes, he was undoubtedly a man of great importance," Dr. Myers takes a few steps toward him. "But were you aware he was a bit... crazy?"

"As in eccentric?" The boy asks.

"No, crazy. He kept an elk as a pet and employed a clairvoyant dwarf. His parties were like circus events, his elk drank with the guests, and he lost his nose once through a duel in a unlighted room. 'Eccentric' simply doesn't cut it."

A girl a few recruits away from me raises a palm. I recognize her immediately. "May I ask why this day of training bears his name?"

It's Lia, from yesterday, with a freshly bandaged arm but the same frigid tone. She stands tall with one hand wrapped around her bandage as an attempt to cover it. I didn't notice before, but now that she isn't dripping with seawater and blood, she's really very pretty. Messy blonde hair cut to her shoulders frames her sharp jawline while bright blue-green eyes stare straight ahead and unwavering.

"There-" Dr. Myers begins, but notices Lia's arm. "An accident?"

"A clumsy mistake, I dropped a glass."

"That bandage looks a bit... crude." Her tone is haughty. "I am a doctor, I could take a look at it."

"I am one, as well," Lia forthrightly states, a proud smile settling on her pink lips. "And I can assure you that there is no need for a second opinion." She lifts her bandage a bit, showing a row of neat stitches over a clean wound. Lia's smile turns to a smirk as Dr. Myers gathers her brows.

Dr. Myers steps back, lifting her head and regathering herself. "This is Tycho Brahe Day, and we'll see just how brilliant or insane all of you are. But it is worth noting that every brilliant mind is, in some way, insane. I'd say a perfect candidate would meet somewhere in the middle." She looks between Lia then, for a quick glance, me. "Let's see if you're future astronauts or Brahes, shall we?"

---

In a long room with multiple partitions and television screens and chairs, we are given beds. Next to these each of these beds waits an SSRC employee, clothed in all white and masked, with a cart of tools. We are divided, then guided into the squared off rooms.

"Orders are stressed here, aren't they?" I ask the white figure. It simply nods and points to the bed. So much for small talk.

I sit on the firm mattress and the figure gathers patches with wires from the table. They stick them onto my neck, temples, and forehead, working silently and efficiently.

I let my thoughts drift again as I wait, mostly thinking about just how tame the SSRC seems. Plenty of order and safety precautions, nothing like my parents warned. I came here expecting some answers, but everything I've seen so far has done nothing to provide them. In fact, I have more questions than when I arrived.

Why does the SSRC feel the need to separate themselves from the world so much they set up shop on an island? Why did my parents feel threatened by companies like these when all they have are cubicles and advanced, but extremely small, space ships? What damage could come from a place like this? All these years later, and I still can't see the need for the kind of change they fought so hard for.