杏吧原创

Somerville, Massachusetts

Friday 20 August 2027 (1030 GMT)

This is amazing! Here I am on the spaceplane, cruising at 10 000 metres and
waiting to be blasted into low-Earth orbit. And all thanks to the ticket I
bought in the Sheffield Space Lottery. Definitely the best 50 Euros I ever
spent.

All going to plan so far, although things looked a bit dodgy a few minutes
ago. The tanker aircraft鈥攖he one that is at this moment pumping 60 tonnes
of liquid oxygen into our spaceplane so we can switch from jet to rocket
power鈥攚as late arriving, and we were carrying only enough jet fuel to get
us up to cruising altitude. I could see the lads at the pub asking, 鈥淗ow was
space?鈥� and me replying, 鈥淲ell, we got as far as the stratosphere and then had
to glide back to Gatwick.鈥�

I think we鈥檙e full up with LOX now, so I guess I can relax and enjoy my
inflight snack . . . Oh, a lovely packet of peanuts.

Suddenly there鈥檚 this deafening roar, and it feels like I鈥檝e got two hefty
footballers sitting on top of me. We must be on our way. I鈥檒l write more
later.

Friday 20 August (2300 GMT)

First day in space absolutely brilliant! The Hotel Kosmos is everything it鈥檚
cracked up to be. A huge, shining ball with 75 guest rooms, a glass atrium, two
restaurants and a bar that serves decent beer, even if you do have to sip it
through a straw from a plastic pouch. They keep the hotel slowly
rotating鈥攐ne revolution every 12 hours鈥攕o each room gets views of
deep space, and of the Earth 200 kilometres below.

When we docked though, my first question was 鈥淲here鈥檚 the loo?鈥� My bladder
had never felt so full. Nancy, our pudgy faced rep, explained the medical
particulars. She told me all about how your fluids spread out around your body
in microgravity instead of gravitating towards your legs like on Earth, and how
that tricks your endocrine glands into thinking you鈥檝e got too much water in
you. 鈥淵es,鈥� I said, 鈥渂ut where鈥檚 the loo?鈥�

Nancy pointed to the gents, which was all the way across the lobby. 鈥淚鈥檒l
never make it,鈥� I thought. But it was so easy to push myself off the padded wall
and go whizzing through the air like Superman. I crashed into a potted palm at
first, but soon had myself moving along in the right direction.

The toilets here suck. You pee into a disposable funnel stuck on the end of a
vacuum hose鈥攚omen have their own special attachment鈥攐r you sit on a
tiny seat with handlebars and a lever that opens a suction hole. Paper goes into
a bag that lines a vacuum canister, which you throw away when you鈥檝e finished.
Bet you wanted to know that.

I had a shock on the way out as I glanced in the mirror. I looked like
Nancy鈥檚 brother鈥攖hat pudgy face again. And my legs had gone all spindly,
too. Fancy wasting all that time getting into shape for my holiday, I thought,
only for microgravity to redistribute everything.

As I went somersaulting back across the lobby to rejoin the group, I got
another nasty surprise. My head started spinning, I felt queasy, and a
ploughman鈥檚 lunch began working its way back up my oesophagus. Space-sickness,
it鈥檚 called. About three-quarters of space visitors get it, probably because
you鈥檙e disoriented without gravity to tell you which way is up, and most of our
lot were suffering.

Nancy came to the rescue with some plastic sick bags. Messy business that
turned out to be. Things work a bit differently without gravity, you see.
Whatever you spew into the bag comes churning back at you like breakers at the
seaside. A shot of antihistamine from the sickbay seems to have stopped the
heaves now, thank goodness, but it has left me a bit woozy.

Anyway, here I am in space, and I鈥檝e done nothing but talk about plumbing.
Had a lovely time looking down at the Earth from the atrium. Ken鈥攈e鈥檚 my
roommate here鈥攕aid, 鈥淭here鈥檚 Egypt over there, look.鈥� And I said, 鈥淚鈥檝e
always wanted to see Egypt.鈥� And he said, 鈥淲ell, now you鈥檝e seen it.鈥� I was
beginning to wonder about Ken. He鈥檚 the one who, as we were about to dock with
the hotel, started loudly humming The Blue Danube. Very wry. Very
amusing. From Manchester.

Still groggy after supper. (Fettucine, freeze-dried then brought back to life
with an injection of hot water. Quite nice, considering.) They tell you not to
do too much on your first day, so I鈥檝e gone to bed early. Well, not bed
exactly鈥攎ore like a big potato sack with a hook on one end. You can attach
it to any surface in the room. Right, time to catch some zeds.

Sunday 22 August (0100 GMT)

Second day in space, woke up feeling fantastic. Went to the health club with
Ken to check out the babes while pretending to exercise. There are people up
here from all over the world but this one girl from London, Alice, caught my
eye. She鈥檚 a cracker.

But I had Ken to contend with. Really competitive, he was. On the 鈥渓ower body
negative pressure鈥� unit鈥攁 treadmill where your legs are inside a sort of
vacuum chamber to simulate gravity鈥擪en ran faster. Wearing the 鈥減enguin
suits鈥�, which have strong rubber bands sewn into them to put force on your
muscles, he worked out harder. So after a bit I thought, 鈥淔orget it, I鈥檓 going
for a dip in the pool.鈥�

It鈥檚 not an ordinary pool, mind you, but a big floating glob of water,
measuring 8 metres across. As people dive in from all directions, some of the
water breaks off into smaller globs. There鈥檚 an attendant who goes around
scooping them up in a bucket and sloshing them back into the pool.

I didn鈥檛 dare swim very far in. There鈥檚 no buoyancy, you see, so there鈥檚
nothing to make you bob up to the surface. When Ken saw me surrounded by bathing
beauties, he did a double flip off the wall and torpedoed into the water.
Somehow he ended up stuck in the middle, like a fly trapped in amber. They had
to fish him out with a stage hook. Not so cool after all.

Later, I popped into the Copernicus Lounge for a pint. It was elbow to elbow
with people鈥攚ell, elbow to foot, elbow to backside, and any other part you
care to name, since everyone was chatting at a different angle. I met a couple
of Japanese blokes, Shinji and Hiroshi, and showed them how to play darts.
They鈥檇 never done it before, and I鈥檓 usually quite good, but they beat me every
time. I kept aiming high, you see, expecting the darts to curve downwards as
they do on Earth. In the end the only thing they learnt from me was the phrase
鈥淥h sod it.鈥�

A bit later, Alice floated in and flashed me a smile from across the lounge.
For a moment I thought I was getting space-sick again. I nudged my way through
the crowd and we started chatting. Did she get to Sheffield at all? Had she seen
the hurricane over the Philippines this morning? That sort of thing.

But soon there was an embarrassed silence and all I could think of saying was
鈥淲ant an M&M?鈥� I tried to get the packet open without spilling the whole
lot, but instead I managed to let loose the entire contents, which hovered
between us in a multicoloured swarm. We laughed and began hoovering them up with
our mouths getting closer and closer together . . . Finally, our lips met.

Just then, a loud argument started up on the other side of the bar. I could
just make out Ken鈥檚 voice. Something about the 鈥渂loody Japanese鈥� and where their
鈥渂loody team can stick the bloody cup鈥�. I expect he was still miffed about Japan
beating England in the World Cup final last year.

All at once, fists started flying. A human cannonball whizzed past me and
went 鈥淥h sod it鈥� just before hitting the wall. It was my new friend Shinji. Ken,
of course, flew off in the equal and opposite direction and smashed into a
classy-looking Italian guy. The next thing I knew, people were bouncing off one
another like billiard balls. The air was filled with spinning bodies, squashed
drink containers and fast-moving blobs of beer. I looked round for Alice, seeing
an excellent moment to use the line 鈥淟et me take you away from all this.鈥� But
she had disappeared.

Monday 23 August (1120 GMT)

Sitting aboard the spaceplane back home. Tired, hungover but happy. What a
great couple of days.

For one thing, I managed to give Ken what he had coming to him. After the
brawl, he rolled in at about five in the morning, absolutely legless鈥攏ot
that it matters in space. He woke me up with his careering about, and then I
couldn鈥檛 get back to sleep because of his snoring. I tried rolling him over at
first, but a fat lot of good that does in microgravity. So I unhooked his
sleeping pouch from the wall and stuffed him into a storage locker.

At breakfast yesterday, my luck was in. There was Alice again, and we teamed
up for the sightseeing tour. Brilliant stuff. You get inside this little orbital
manoeuvring vehicle and they take you round a load of historic satellites. My
favourite part was floating past all the bits of the International Space Station
that they never got round to welding together.

We did our bit for the environment, too. The OMV has robotic arms for
scooping up space junk, which tourists can take home as souvenirs. There are all
sorts of bits and pieces out there. Alice picked up a pair of women鈥檚 tights
from the space station, and I got an adjustable spanner from the Solar Max
repair mission of the 1980s. Funny, I was wanting a spanner.

But the best part came later. Went for drinks in the Copernicus Lounge, and
this time Alice and I didn鈥檛 need M&Ms to get cosy. We found ourselves
drifting over to Alice鈥檚 room, and soon there were clothes flying everywhere. We
bounced off walls, windows, everything. Then Alice made it clear that she wanted
to attempt what you might call an orbital docking manoeuvre. I was feeling
exactly the same. Uncanny, that.

I said to Alice hesitantly, 鈥淒o you have a . . . er . . . in your handbag . .
. Have you got a . . . um . . . thingy . . .鈥�

鈥淵ou mean a space harness?鈥� She fished out a contraption that had loops for
one person to stick their legs through and straps for the other person to hang
on to. I would have been a gentleman and offer to wear it, but she slipped into
it before I could protest.

As we began the rendezvous, I suddenly realised what it means to have all
your fluids pooling in the upper half of your body. For millions of years now,
men have been relying on getting plenty of blood to the lower half. I was
thinking, 鈥淗ello, down there? Something not happening that should be happening?鈥�
But to my great relief, testosterone won out over microgravity.

Afterwards, as Alice and I floated in her sleeping pouch, gazing at the
spectacular view from the window, we both agreed that the Earth had moved.

Now she鈥檚 snoozing with her head on my shoulder as our spaceplane attempts,
er, re-entry. Pure bliss. Won鈥檛 poor old Ken be jealous when he sees us
together!

Speaking of Ken, where could he have got to? I can鈥檛 see him on the plane. Ah
. . . I wonder if those storage lockers open from the inside?