Earthian

Luna

“Good morning, peacekeepers!”

It’s the sixteenth day of training at Valiant Base, and the gym is a little different today. I’ve just arrived through the archway, and out in the middle of the room is a strange contraption shaped like a jellyfish-themed carousel. It has a big trunk, a blobby top, and six tendrils that each hold a spacesuit.

There’s no mistaking what they are; they look pretty much like old suits from the ’60s, but made of some smooth and dully gleaming polyplasmer. My teammates and I step forward, and I can see curving designs etched into the surface; a few steps closer still and I can tell it’s made of small tiles.

The gloves are bulky, blocky, with palms shaped strangely like dinner rolls. There are blue accents everywhere except the facemask, which instead looks like it’s coated in copper.  I’m wondering what low-budget spy movie the suit escaped from… but at the same time, I really want to try it on.

“It’s finally time to introduce you to the most important and indispensable tool in your coming travels. We call it a spacesuit.”

Spacesuit! I totally called it.

“Wait,” I say. “Is that seriously what it’s called? No clever codename? No hyper-spaghetti funnel cone armor?”

“It’s a spacesuit,” Owijer says. “What other name would it need?”

“I don’t…” I stutter. “But the…”

Alejandra punches my shoulder. “Why are you asking for more gibberish, Jace?”

She’s not wrong. What else can I do but laugh?

Owijer says, “Now, now… do any of you know why your spacesuit is so important?”

Adia squints. “Well, we’ll be travelling through space,” she says, and Owijer’s eyes perk up. She adds, “It’s a safety precaution in case anything goes wrong?”

Owijer wraps the tips of his arm-tentacles together like fingers and says, “The many worlds of the Star League are incredibly diverse, supporting life-forms as you’ve never imagined… but these many planets don’t often support the same life-forms.”

That makes sense. I mean, animals on Earth have enough trouble surviving outside their own habitat. More than 70 percent of the Earth’s surface is covered in water, full of life that we have to look at through safety windows. It’s hard to imagine an alien world that wouldn’t kill us.

“The races of the League use a variety of methods to survive on otherwise inhospitable worlds, but mostly… we all wear spacesuits.”

“All the time?” Cam asks in a sharp edged voice.

Owijer says, “For many, yes. There are usually places where you can strip your suit off: homes and guest lodgings, things like that… but for safety, many remain in their suits all the time.”

“Ew,” Victor says. “That’s unhygienic.”

“No, no, they’re self-cleaning,” Owijer says defensively. “It’s all safe and healthy, I promise. It’s common, everyday technology.”

I’m sure there are dozens of questions left, but I don’t need to know anything else. I want to put this dang thing on, so I just start walking.  Luckily, Owijer doesn’t seem to mind.

When I get to the carousel, I set my vegaray down on the floor, then turn one of the suits around and tug lightly at the material until it splits apart. The small tiles on the surface are shiny like jewelry, shimmering like a snake’s scales, and the effect is so cool that I’m struggling to tear my eyes off it.