The Library

Galaxy

The first memory I ever remembered was when I was six and still living the dream, without a care in the world. I don't really recall the faces of my parents, as I was brought to O.A.S.I.S. at an early age to study abroad. Sometimes, there would be pieces of memories that would interlock to eachother and put me a step closer to finding them, but when I actually do think about it, it just breaks away and I'm left with blank space again. I never really bothered to find out who they were or what they did after several failed attempts.

When I was twelve, I had the dream to become a space engineer, similar to a satellite mechanic of some sort. At that time I was already way ahead of my peers, skipping international classes one after another. By the time I was fifteen, I was ready to pilot my own satellite. But during the process, I had stopped hoping to become a pilot. Something drew me in and made me forget about my dreams. Something extraordinary.

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"Eleven years," Timothy replied. "Five years for me to sit here in this chair, right now." I rubbed my index finger against the wooden table. The texture felt nice.

"Why so?" I asked. "What did you want to be when you grew up?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know man, a janitor on the O.A.S.I.S. was enough for me. Being on this is like living the dream," he said, giving hand gestures. Timothy Sterling, a habitat scientist abroad the O.A.S.I.S. that I had just met. Something vibrated the desk and he picked up his tablet. Pressing against the back of his ear to switch on the Neurocall, he greeted the person on the other line with a professional "hello". With no company to talk to, I took out my tablet and pulled the ends apart to reveal a glass-like screen. I pressed the power button and waited for the tablet to load its functions. Scrolling through the news, I tried to find something interesting. Nothing. I powered it off and slipped it back into my pocket. Checking my digital watch, I noticed the time and tapped Timothy on the shoulder, signaling my departure to my room. It was late. I got up and pushed the chair in the table, and waved Timothy goodbye.

Walking through the residential sector, I was met with the blasting music of "Dream On" by the Aerosmiths, and knocked on the door of what appeared to be the source of the disruption. The music was cut off, and a man dressed in pajamas answered the door.

"Yeah dude, what do you want?" he asked, propping himself on the door frame, crossing his arms.

"First — I'm not your dude." I told him, elongating the word "dude" so that it appeared to have more meaning than its actual definition. "Second, can you please lower your music?"

"Sure thing, sorry it was a distraction man," he answered, banging the door closed. Rude, but atleast the music wasn't playing anymore. I continued down the hallway and reached my room. Taking out my identity card out of my pocket, I placed it in front of the identification scanner. A beep followed by a green light appeared, and I opened the door and stepped in. Closing the door behind me, I flipped on the lights and turned on the faucet. Aboard the O.A.S.I.S., natural gravity existed, unlike the outdated I.S.S., which left residents floating in mid-air. O.A.S.I.S. had developed a vacuum system where it stimulated gravity, allowing residents of the satellite to work in normal conditions.