Keeper of the Sleeping Minds

Open the hatch in paradise

Open the hatch in Paradise

Lynn announced the landing sequence over speaker. I tried to relax, waiting for the drugs to kick in. But my eyelids fluttered open time and again. After all, this was it, all our hopes come true. We were approaching the planet chosen to provide us a new home, a chance to start anew, without plague and other restrictions. I longed to get a glimpse from the shuttle windows, not the belated view on the crappy screen above my cot in the hold. But while Lynn would have allowed it if possible, there was barely enough room in the cockpit for her and Pierre, doubling as copilot. Nevertheless I was burning in anticipation for Earth Mark II.

Suddenly the pressure started growing, just as Lynn had warned us beforehand. Frantically I tried to focus on my tiny screen, fighting sudden fear until the anaesthetics finally kicked in. I'm still not convinced the drugs were absolutely necessary to get us down there. But it was procedure, and Steve insisted we follow it. Lynn and Pierre up in the cockpit were protected by an elaborate life system. We, on the other hand, would be cushioned against a hard landing while we were kept in artificially relaxed state, our metabolism slowed down and able to take more strain during reentry.

I can't remember set down. When I awoke, I was staring into Lynn's shaken face. It took me a while to understand what she was talking about, my ears feeling stuffed and my mind working at reduced speed. Dany over on the next cot looked worse than I felt. The gist of Lynn's speech was that the hibernation pods in the lower hold lost connection during approach, due to heavy atmospheric turbulences. Dany, Faro and I followed her as fast as possible down to where Pierre frantically tried to reconnect the pods. Dany, our revitalisation specialist, shook his head in despair as soon as he checked the read outs on one of the pods. Suddenly, they looked a lot like coffins to me.

We found three pods still showing life signs. Dany managed to revive only one of the occupants, a botanist called Gérard. He looked a lot older than his 28 years when he finally opened his eyes. Dany shot him with medication, hoping it would bring him back to normal. Lynn made the rest of us preparing for the opening of the hatch, reminding us of the mission. I was glad to leave the hold with its cargo of dead sleepers. There were a lot of checks to be run before opening the hatch and I let the work take my mind off the tragic incident.

I still felt groggy when all was done and the seal of the main hatch started changing colour. We stood ready between bulky luggage crates, fully suited and wide-eyed. Through the cotton filling temporarily replacing my brain I realised that the others looked kind of green as well. I tried to fix my eyes on the seal, already blue and getting darker by the moment. As soon as it reached black, the hatch was supposed open. Hastily I checked my equipment, just in time to realise that my breathing equipment was still inactive. I would have to get together my marbles, it wouldn't do dying on a stupid mistake like this the first day on planet. Quickly, I opened the air supply. The oxygen helped clearing my head. I drew it in deeply, in, out, in, out, like we had been taught in training. A sharp hiss made me look up. The seal was black and the hatch begun to swing aside. All thoughts about sleep or breathing were forgotten.

The first thing that struck me were the colours, the deep blue of the sky and the turquoise of the meadow, spotted red, blue and pink, long grasses swaying in a soft breeze. This wasn't Earth, but it was beautiful. After the red dust of the Australian desert my starving mind greedily soaked up this first impressions. I remained unaware of my fellow spacefarers until Henrik, one of the soldiers, took some decisive steps forward and jumped out into the grass, gun clutched in both gloved hands. The sleek turquoise blades easily reached his chest. Slowly, he turned around, the visor of his helmet glinting in the sun. I held my breath. This picture brought confirmation: we had landed on another planet. This was going to be our new home.