When you go on a deep space mission, so much can change when you are gone. New for you, new history, new geography, new government. Whether its for the good or the bad…it all depends on your outlook. What do you do when it’s for the bad?
It was only as he drove his twenty-year-old Lexus SC430 into the underground car park that the reality of what Jack was doing hit him. He followed the directions he had been given and found the section allocated to the crew of the Triton. He had expected a taped off corner, and the farthest corner it was, but a whole wall of breeze blocks had been put up. The new structure had been painted white except for its entrance which was a deep unmissable red.
On both sides of this entrance were identical signs. DSS Triton crew only. Long term parking. Do not clear. He drove in and found his place. The signs were the final indication that this was real. His trusty old Lexus would sit here until he returned. Someone would turn its engine over once a week and shift it back and forward a couple of times. He smiled, pleased that the agency had made this little gesture to normality, and certain that the car would be seized solid when he got back.
He was early, so he took his favourite audio cassette from his pocket, flipped it open, and had a last listen to Marilyn Manson’s The Speed of Pain before he checked in. He had a small cassette player among his personal possessions but doubted there would be many opportunities for a quiet listen once they got going.
A strange sense of ennui caught him for a moment. The car would be here when he got back, complete with its factory installed cassette deck, but everything else was gone. His house had been sold, and virtually everything else he owned had eventually gone to a clearance company. All told he was a pretty penny better off. All he could now hope for was that inflation didn’t wipe out his little money chest while he was away.
He pressed the button, pulled out the cassette and returned it to its case which went back into his pocket. With a last look round his beloved old car he checked everything was switched off, but left the key in the ignition. Then he got out and made his way across the near empty car park to the elevator. His last Sunday morning on earth for a while and it was wonderfully quiet for a change.
#
The Triton left behind an earth in the throes of many crises. Some were as old as human existence; over-population of areas, poorly planned exploitation of resources, unequal distribution of everything from T-shirts to technology, and uncontrollable movements of peoples on scales probably never seen before.
She was an expensive project, at a time when government agencies were finding their budgets clipped in every direction. She was also ultra-secret which was hardly surprising given the advances that were hidden under her hood. Her one redeeming feature was that, apart from maintenance, there were no additional costs after construction. The Triton could sail the stars until her engines packed in due to old age. A regular change of oil was about all she needed.
What had attracted Jack to the mission was the vagueness of its aims. Exploration was discussed. Other meetings covered the search for minerals. New sources of oil were theorized and then abandoned, given the very specific conditions found around earth supplies. Someone in management mentioned gold and was quickly made aware of how fundamentally useless element number 79 is.
“Copper yes,” growled one of the team, “Silver if there’s nothing else. Gold, no.” Catherine was nothing if not concise, but she was right. There were far more useful things to go looking for.
It didn’t take the crew long to realize that all these meetings were just smoke screens to disguise the fact that there was no mission as such. A little further analysis and it became obvious they were testing the new engine, while at the same time testing how humans would cope with near instant jumps to the stars.
The meeting where this had come to head had not been pleasant. The captain, Baozhai, had not missed management and hit the wall. “Why not just tell us? Do you honestly think we are scared of a little danger?” She barely touched a meter and half tall but it was all solid leadership and attitude.
In fairness to their opponent that morning, head of project Barnes, he didn’t blink. “A little danger, captain? This is a leap forward so advanced that the only way we can properly test it is to throw it out there. I apologize for focusing on other aspects of the mission, but it hardly seemed like an efficient use of your pre-flight time holding your hands and agonizing over the dangers…”
He looked like he was getting comfortably into his stride but Baozhai cut him off, and cut him down at the same time. “None of us need our hands held, Mr. Barnes, but you will be up front and honest with us from now on or I will lead my crew out of this complex and let you find another.” She glared at him. “I can be more direct if you would like.”
Barnes was a good man but he suffered from that malaise the powerful have. He could not bear to have his power challenged. He stood up, presumably to show off the fact that he was closer to two meters tall than Baozhai’s twenty five percent less.
“I think it might be easier to find a new captain, captain.”
Jack took his opportunity to stand up now. “I didn’t agree to serve under another captain, Mr. Barnes.” The rest of the crew also stood but not, Jack noticed together. He carefully memorized their order of standing. It might prove helpful in future crises.
Barnes sat down, took a moment to collect himself, and then nodded.
“Very well. I am sorry. No more dancing round things. Your specific order is to take the Triton out and then bring her back. Once you have returned another destination will be selected, and then another, and another etc. until we decide the project has achieved something or you have all quit. During those journeys you are free to perform the exploration missions we have been discussing but the mission priority is proving the engine systems and your ability to survive inter-stellar travel.”
Baozhai took her seat, followed by her loyal crew.
“Now that wasn’t hard was it…sir?”
#
January 1st 2030 and the Triton flew into the earth’s shadow on its final orbit before launch. Jack looked down at the city lights far below. Forest fires in the Amazon were becoming clearer at night as deliberate burning expanded in all directions. To the north west California was burning in places as well, but not on the same scale. They passed the Arctic Circle, invisible in the darkness but Jack knew from earlier fly overs what was happening down there.
For all of Jack’s fifty years the world had always seemed to be on the brink of something unpleasant. As a child there was the threat of nuclear annihilation, a threat so seemingly imminent that it had freaked his parents out, to the extent that he had grown a calloused attitude to it. By the time the worst of the threat appeared gone, around 1990, a part of him was almost disappointed. Still, he had acquired survival rations and the Mossberg 12 Gauge when he was old enough. Their unused storage in the hall cupboard seemed like a waste of money now.
But the human race, and its strange political structures, are endlessly inventive when it comes to whipping up danger. Over the past forty years, between his tenth and his fiftieth birthdays, Jack had watched things go awry in more ways than he could have imagined in the ‘good old days’ of his parents’ Cold War.
The Triton mission fitted in with both his acquired skills and his mental outlook. He was weary of all the problems, despite his own life being comfortable, if still existing salary to salary. All he knew about the Triton’s engine was that it had been an accidental discovery, something to do with a particle accelerator, that it made star travel possible, and it generated enough acceleration to mimic gravity. Whatever happened he would not be returning to earth as a fleshy bag of crumbled bones.
Baozhai called the twenty crew to the launch room and had them strap in. Barnes’ face took up the large screen in front of them. He smiled. He and the crew were friends again, which pleased them all.
“How’s things?” asked Baozhai.
“Same old same old. Russia blah blah blah, America blah blah blah, Europe much the same, deforestation, pollution. Deals being reneged on right, left and centre.” He smiled. “I’m getting old folks. The specifics change a bit but, if we aren’t in some sort of a pickle, then something is seriously wrong.”
Jack thought of how things had changed since he had been a child. He remembered plastic, in the 80s, as a futuristic miracle. Now it had become something of a curse. Despite the dread he had absorbed from his parents during the Cold War he had never been overly pessimistic about humanity’s future. He always had a sense that things would work themselves out, but he was tired of every problem being immediately replaced with another problem.
He was running away on the Triton. He no longer lied to himself about that. All being well they would come home and, hopefully, things would be better. And if they weren’t then all twenty of them were committed to further trips back out. This was exploration the old way; point yourself in a direction and go. Find what you find.
Baozhai lifted a hand to the large screen in farewell. “We’ll see you sometime.”
Barnes smiled. “God speed,” and the image was replaced with a forward view of the sun rising in the west. Minutes later the ship’s engine engaged and seconds after that the sun was passing their starboard side. The acceleration was smooth but constant and the pressure was becoming uncomfortable, and then everything fell into sync and the Triton was on its way to the stars.
On earth viable commercial supersonic flight had died with Concorde in 2003. Out in space, in 2030, twenty humans had just gone supersonic a second after departing. In a few hours the view ahead would be so distorted as to make the screen effectively useless.
#
A year later, on 28th February 2045, the Triton entered earth orbit and called in. Barnes was greyer but he had kept fit and looked like he slept well. The agency had spent its time developing the engine, and other flights were out there even as they returned home. Those flights now had specific missions but it became apparent, when the crew put their feet back on the ground, that the situation around the world was making those missions increasingly questionable.
Jack spent his first few days back watching TV in his hotel room and trying to catch up on the news. Actually, he had spent the first day trying to work out how the small single remote unit worked. The TV, if he could even call it that, operated four different functions, with a dozen sub-functions. One piece of good news in the confusion was that there were only a couple of dozen channels now, but they offered a good mix of stuff. Game shows were notably missing which, Jack thought, had to be an improvement on 2030.
The picture elsewhere was, by no stretch of the imagination, an improvement. Stuck in this hotel room Jack could probably imagine things hadn’t changed much in fifteen years earth time. But the news, heavily censored as it clearly was, painted a picture of a world in trouble.
He found his way to the agency car park and was amazed to find the Triton garage was still there. Indeed it had been expanded and now held the vehicles of six crews. The Lexus was there in its space but it was obvious no one had been near it in years. A light covering of dust covered everything. He opened the stiff, creaking door and slid into the driver’s seat. He turned the key and was not surprised that there was not even a click from the battery.
Jack took the Marilyn Manson tape out of his pocket, tumbled it around in his fingers, but decided against sticking it into the cassette player. He might never get it out again. He smiled. At least he had a project now, back on earth. Find a cassette player somewhere.
The crew debrief was a strange affair. Barnes was clearly still in charge but a government representative sat behind him, looking stern, listening closely and taking lots of notes.
“Who’s the spook?” asked Baozhai, pointing. The rep closed her notebook, slipped it into a case at her feet, and stood up.
“I’m the agent who is closing this meeting. Captain, please take your crew out of here. You will be contacted when your presence is next required.”
Barnes got up as well. He didn’t argue with the rep but it was clear he still had some of that fire that had seen him squaring up to Baozhai and her people all those years before.
“Agent Girma is here to ensure that the government’s interests are,” he rolled his hand around, as if struggling to find the right word, “secured?” he looked at Girma who scowled back, so he tried again, “protected?” she lifted the case and placed it on her shoulder.
“Director Barnes, I am here to ensure that the tax payer’s money is properly used. I suggest you speak with the captain and bring her up to speed.” She looked down at Baozhai. “Things have changed, captain. I’ll see you in a few days when you’ve caught up.”
She left the room with some grace and pulled the door shut behind her with a slightly ominous click. Barnes paused for a few moments, plainly ensuring she did not return, then he sat down.
“It used to be my job, looking after tax payers’ money. I know what this looks like but we haven’t gone down the totalitarian route just yet. Even when you left we were under government supervision but it was all done with a light hand. Things are different now, though. If you thought the characters running the show in 2030 were colourful then the class of 2045 is something else. And in about an hour, various presidents around the world will have been told what I just said.”
Jack sighed but silently. Unfocussed surveillance had been a problem when they had first left. Nothing changed, it seemed. He raised a hand and Barnes acknowledge him.
“Sir, is it possible to have a tour of things? Sell it to the powers that be as a catch up for us. It’s obvious things have changed in fifteen years.” He looked around the rest of the crew. “I’m guessing I’m not the only one struggling to find the news on TV.” Smiles and nods. Thank God, he thought.
Barnes smiled and pointed at the roof, tapping an ear with a finger.
“That’s a great idea, Jack. I’m sure, if the authorities were here, they would agree. I’ll see what I can arrange.”
#
The Amazon Desert was a revelation as their aircraft flew silently over it. Powered by similar technology to that powering the Triton, it was smooth, efficient and reviled by the traditional energy producers on the planet. But it was government issue and there were still corners of the state that hadn’t been compromised by lobbyists and backhanders.
Jack looked down on a wilderness of burned scrub and dust devils. It was the landscape he had expected would be reality when he was growing up. But the nuclear bombs had not come crashing to earth, humanity had stepped back from the brink, and sanity had prevailed, for a few months. What he saw below him was awful.
His crewmate, Carson, leaned over his lap and gazed out of the window.
“Why would anyone let that happen to the place they live in?”
Jack shrugged. “Poverty, oppression, apathy, fear, ambition, greed, anger. Who knows? When you think about it the only reason the places we live in (lived in, he thought) are safe is because of lots and lots of people doing what needs done; neighbours, police, government, visitors. Things just got out of balance here. Greed got the edge on common sense.”
Carson moved back to his seat. “And then some.”
The ruins of Los Angeles were every it as apocalyptic, but the bizarre presence of day trippers on guided tours seemed strangely appropriate. Tinseltown was now Post-nuke-town and someone was making money. Just about the only structure still fully standing was the Capitol Records Building, thirteen stories that spoke of a past that had some hope in the future. Jack sighed and sat back in his seat. That future was the world’s past, but it wasn’t the past of the crew of the Triton. They had missed the whole spectacle, and were probably the better for having not been there when it happened.
Around the Pacific, coastal towns had succumbed to that great ocean and battles raged as the rich, formerly entrenched along its shores, were pulling every legal stunt they could to take over the formerly poor districts that were now prime shorefront locations.
For the moment.
It was an ugly picture, but not so different from the one Jack and the rest of the crew had left fifteen years earlier. There was less of the Amazon, more of the Sahara, but the ‘good’ news was that the population was down to about four billion, mainly on the back of famine.
Where things were good they were artificially good. Where they were bad, they were beyond imagination. The less said about San Francisco the better.
#
21st April 2045 and the Triton took off on its second flight. Jack sat in the launch room, troubled by their last-minute orders. There was nothing new in them, but there was an emphasis, a pressure, a focus. Find somewhere that might support human life. Reason: undisclosed, but painfully obvious.
But the Triton’s primary role was to prove the viability of interstellar travel and the ship itself was trouble free. Jack did his job, worlds were surveyed, and Baozhai’s crew recorded and documented wonders in the far reaches of space. That order about finding new worlds for humanity, though, proved to a tougher task than anyone had thought.
They orbited several worlds that looked suitable but deeper analysis always found something not quite right. Even an earth sized planet, at about earth’s average distance from its sun, proved to be problematic because of its lack of any axial tilt. It stood up straight in its orbit and spun round, year after year, with no seasons to speak of. This and the lack of a large moon had created a curiously stagnant environment on the surface.
Other worlds were like images of hell, others dead rocks. After months the only conclusion they could reach was that colonization was possible but certainly not desirable. Jack absorbed all this information and slowly came to the realization that he took one evening to Baozhai’s quarters.
When he had finished speaking she sat down, clearly in shock. “You realize you are talking about mutinying?”
Jack nodded glumly. “I don’t see any other way, Captain. We have to go home; we’ve seen that nothing out here is quite right for us. But we cannot just go back to whatever humanity has managed to improve on since 2045. I had a dream last night where we did go back and there wasn’t a single tree left anywhere. And you saw how tenuously Barnes was holding onto his authority with the agency. I doubt, if we go back and land, that we will ever be allowed back on board the Triton, or any of the other ships. I’m imagining, if we’re lucky, house arrest.”
“And if we’re unlucky?”
“When countries start the aimless surveillance game things only stop going downhill when they reach the bottom. I used to read about places like the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany. I always wondered, naively, what charges the police always found against people who were being randomly arrested during the night. In the Soviet Union, in the 1930s, people started having a suitcase packed for when it was their turn to be arrested. It took me a long time to realize that, once they were taken into the interrogation centres, practically none of them were coming out.”
Baozhai nodded quietly. She had heard her grandmother’s stories about China. And yet she had to hold onto the hope that things were not degenerating back to the terrors of the 20th century.
“I understand what you’re saying Jack but all we saw when we were there was tighter control. And the emergency situations surely justified that. I mean, think about it, the earth was on fire when we were there.”
Jack thought about this for a few moments. Then he asked, “Can I speak with the crew? Just hear their views. Any final decision is yours.”
Baozhai smiled and sat back. “Captain on board the Triton just means I get to shoulder the blame when we get home. Rank here has few privileges, but thank you for that.”
#
Jack stood at the front of the launch room. Behind him the large screen showed a beautiful blue cloudy world drifting below them. Another almost perfect match for earth, except for its complete lack of dry land. If humanity found its way here it would be living on rafts.
“The captain has warned that not returning the Triton to the agency could be considered an act of mutiny and, even today, that is pretty serious. What I’m proposing, though, is not stealing her but just not handing her back immediately.”
He had expected some resistance, especially from his more vocal colleagues, but the whole gathering was quite muted. Some looked to Baozhai, as if to determine where she stood on this, but she maintained a solid poker face and let Jack make his points. He was disappointed by the lack of opinion, one way or the other, until it suddenly dawned on him. All of them had been having the same doubts about simply returning to earth and taking their chances.
He took a deep breath. He wasn’t standing here, in front of a hostile crowd, trying to win the argument. He was standing in front of eighteen uncertain people who were waiting for someone to come up with an idea. He said as much.
“We’re all worried about what happens when we go home. Any possibility of staying out here is getting lower and lower with every world we visit. So, much as we don’t want to at the moment, we have to return to earth and see what’s what. I propose we land the Triton on the moon and spend some time watching. We will have to careful and quiet because we don’t know how technology will have improved over fifteen years.” He looked at Baozhai. “I assume we’ll be back around 2060.” She nodded.
There was silence for a moment and then a single voice said, “Let’s do it. If we’re caught we can claim we were concerned about something or other and touched down as a precaution.”
All faces turned to Baozhai who stood up and faced them back.
“Let’s go home.”
#
Jack thought this was about the most exciting thing he had ever done. The Triton had dropped out of stellar flight close to Mars’ orbit and had then prowled its way inwards. As it got closer Baozhai tried, as much as possible, to use the moon as cover, despite its inconvenient movement. Final approach was magnificent, the moon vast on screen, with the sun behind them, and the earth completely eclipsed by its satellite.
This slow return had been quite deliberate, to give them as much opportunity as possible to listen in on earth. A year earlier (fifteen years earlier) the space around earth was flooded with electronic noise. TV and radio had lit the planet up for light years around, but now things were quiet. There were bits and pieces of chatter which quickly quelled the worry that humanity was gone, but the relative silence was troubling.
When furtive visual sighting became possible they were relieved to see city lights on the night sides, but nowhere near as bright as before. Earth had become smaller somehow. The crew sat looking up at the big screen.
“We are going to have to get into orbit for a closer look.”
“There is still plenty of hardware there. If we get close we’ll be seen.”
“Should we try to contact Barnes?”
“Is he likely to be alive?”
The instinct for caution was being goaded in every one of them by the desire to go home. Jack said very little as the crew weighed up its options. The pull of the earth was far stronger than he had expected. He had assumed that, as he got further and further away from his own time, he would find the earth itself to be less of a draw. And that may well have proven to be the case had it not been for all those not-quite-right worlds out among the stars.
Baozhai had been trying to attract his attention a couple of times. Finally she shouted very loudly.
“Jack!” His head jerked up. “Welcome back. This was your idea. Do you have any thoughts regarding how to move forward?”
He collected his thoughts and stood up. All heads swung his way. He pointed up at the image of earth on the screen.
“We have to go back. The only question is when and how. I think for the moment we touch down on the moon and let ourselves have a rest. The ship can support us for centuries. A few days rest and recuperation won’t hurt one bit.”
#
The Triton settled down in the Eastern Sea, the Mare Orientalis, perversely located on the western side of the moon’s near side. The earth sat on the horizon, more or less always in view, allowing for the moon’s slight oscillations. It was good to have gravity back, even at a sixth of the earth’s. Their time spent approaching the earth had been weightless and it was not an environment they had trained extensively for. The assumption had been that any spells without using the star drive would be brief.
The rest was good and it was helpful, but after a few days the consensus was that they couldn’t stay here forever. The decision was made to contact the agency and just get a feel for the situation on terra firma. Baozhai had them smarten up their uniforms, comb their hair, and shave where appropriate. She wanted a disciplined crew calling home and not a bunch of stellar vagrants. They were all amazed at how nervous this call home was.
Barnes was older again but, again, he looked well. There was no government ‘spook’ breathing down his neck but they did not recognize the flag behind him. He smiled.
“I’ve been wondering when you intended to drop us a line. We’ve been monitoring you since you dropped out of star drive.”
Baozhai looked puzzled. “So why not contact us?”
Barnes shrugged. “We wanted to see what was going on. A few of us thought the ship had been taken by parties unknown. One or two were for shooting you down.”
“Down where?” asked Jack.
And again that winning smile. “I’m speaking euphemistically. They wanted to blow you up.”
“So nothing’s changed back home?”
“That is where you’re wrong. We’ve fixed a lot that was broken the last time you were here, replaced some people who were part of the problem.”
Baozhai was looking at Jack. He caught her glance. She wasn’t buying any of this. Barnes caught the glance as well.
“Captain. Your orders are to bring the Triton to its hangar on earth immediately. You and your crew will be debriefed and then we will discuss your next mission.”
There was nothing wrong in his tone, or in the words he was using. What was it that was troubling Baozhai? She stood up and faced the screen.
“I’m sorry, Director Barnes, but I think we’ll stay here for a while longer, watch a bit longer. Forgive me but I struggle to believe that things have improved any from our last time home.”
Barnes looked genuinely amused now. He chuckled a little.
“And that attitude is one of the problems we have dealt with. So, if you will not come of your own volition, I guess I’m going to have to compel you. There are three heavily armed frigates holding position over the Mare Orientalis right now. You will return to earth under their escort.”
Baozhai was angry. “Or?”
“Or I’ll send one down, put some marines onto your ship, and arrest you. What do you think this is, captain, a science fiction movie? Get my ship home, now.”
His words were direct but there was no anger in his eyes. If anything he still seemed slightly amused by the whole business. Baozhai turned to her crew.
“I guess we’re going home.”
#
Some months later Jack walked through the almost deserted streets of London. In a few hours the rush hour would start but it was a minnow compared to the rush hours of the past. This city’s ten million inhabitants in 2045 was now a few hundred thousands. The air was sweet and the views every bit what a two-thousand-year-old city should look like; fresh, experienced, but loved.
He made his way to the central travel port and waited in a café for Baozhai to join him. The other eighteen of the Triton’s crew had signed on for another mission but he and the Captain had decided to throw in the towel. He suspected that none of the twenty had made their decisions for all the right reasons. He and she had been profoundly disheartened by the lack of worlds capable of supporting human life, even though that imperative had now passed. Others on the crew found that they could not fit in to this new and very strange world. They had gone back into space because it was more familiar than earth now.
But there were a few who felt that the Triton’s missions to look for resources were worth being a part of. The thing was, thought Jack, that the need for new resources was in pretty much the same place as the need for new worlds to live on. Knowing what was out there was always useful but the earth right now had everything that it needed.
He remembered how they had been walked out onto the hangar by civilian members of the agency. He, presumably like Baozhai, had expected immediate arrest and then something pretty unpleasant. Instead they got Barnes, definitely older and now in a wheelchair. He had slapped its arm rests as they approached.
“This is not age, people. I had an accident.”
The accident, it turned out, had been during a brief period of violent trouble shortly after the Triton had last left. He spoke about it during the remarkably short description of what had happened.
“There has been a lot of hard work done in the past fifteen years. But virtually everything you see in this world came down to a change of attitude. The hardmen in power were getting jumpy, they were putting the boot down. We could get down on our knees and they win, or we could fight back, replace them with new hardmen who would eventually get jumpy and put the boot down. And they win again”
Jack nodded. “It is depressingly predictable. So what did you do? I’m guessing the lack of chatter around the planet points to another damned war.”
“Not at all. Something just happened a couple years after you left. A mood swept the globe, different ideas started to be discussed. All this modern communication technology is great. The hardmen hated it but, of course, they hate everything. It didn’t happen overnight, even though we like to speak about it as if it did, but one day we made a collective decision.”
He waited to be asked, that easy smile wide on his face.
Baozhai gave in. “And that decision was?”
“I’m glad you asked. We decided to stop doing what we were doing.”
Silence, then Jack.
“That’s it?”
“Of course not. What you see around you is a decade of hard work, ten years of trying to be different, act differently, think differently. Those of you who stay will struggle a bit but it’s worth it.”
His reminiscing was interrupted by Baozhai arriving. He ordered two coffees. It still felt strange not handing over money for things, but he was starting to understand the new economy a bit.
“Are you ready?” she asked and he nodded, lips deep in milk foam. They hadn’t seen one another for a few weeks but both were looking forward to this high-speed trip to the restored Amazon. They had seen film of it and it looked wonderful, surviving ancient forest alongside rapid new growth. Strange that all an eco-system needs to bounce back is to be left alone for a while.
He looked around the port, busy but not excessively so. Is that what happened to humanity, he wondered? Did it finally take a step back from itself to let itself heal? If so, and if all of this could be achieved in just a decade, what was the race capable of in the long run?
This time he and Baozhai would be here to watch it, instead of catching a snap shot every fifteen years. This time they would be a part of it, even if it was still hard to follow Barnes’ advice. Like every piece of profound guidance in history it looked simple but was anything but.
“Just stop doing what you’re doing and let things heal.” He whispered the words to himself, thought briefly of the past and its billions of people. Someone dropped a spoon somewhere. The echo rattled around the vast, sparsely occupied space.
Their flight was called and they made their way to the high-speed departure gate.
End
