182nd Entry

April 10th, 2037 

  

0900 

  

Dear Space Diary 

  

So… today’s the day. Launch day. The day we put our plan into action. I’m a little nervous. We’ve done  a lot of preparation over the last couple of days. And a lot of heavy living on the part of the Marys. But… it’s only been two days. Are we really ready? To be honest, I’m scared. 

  

“Pass the mustard.” 

  

That’s it? I bear my worries and soul to you and that’s what I get? Pass the mustard? 

  

“I can’t reach it.” 

  

Fine, whatever. Here. 

  

“Thank you.” 

  

…Are you putting mustard on toast? 

  

“I like mustard.” 

  

Yes but, on toast? By itself? 

  

“I haven’t had mustard in 20 years. And we don’t know what fate awaits us on Earth. Yes, I’m having mustard on toast.” 

  

Ok, ok, I’m not judging you. 

  

“Yes you are.” 

  

0945 

  

“Don’t say it.” 

  

What if – 

  

“Don’t.” 

  

What if they’re late? 

  

“You said it. I asked you not to say it.” 

  

But what if they are? 

  

“Then they’re late.” 

  

It’s launch day. They shouldn’t be late on launch day. 

  

“It’s not like we’re a corporation. In fact, we’re fighting against a corporation. Stick it to the man, etc.” 

  

What if it’s a woman? 

  

“Then good on her for making it in a man’s world. Also, she’s an evil bitch.” 

  

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION> 

  

“See, told you they wouldn’t be late.” 

  

Shut up. 

  

<INCOMING TRANSMISSION> 

__ 

  

WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MESSAGE AT 0930 

  

__ 

  

“We were?” 

  

__ 

  

DIDN’T HE TELL YOU? 

  

“You were supposed to tell me something, were you?” 

  

Oh. Yes, I remember now. They said they’d message 15 minutes earlier to give them more time to run diagnostics before they launch. 

  

“What happened?” 

  

I forgot. 

  

“You were so worried that they might be late, that we were late?” 

  

The irony is not lost on me. 

  

“Oh, that’s not irony. I can think of a few things it is, but it’s not irony.” 

  

Listen - 

  

__ 

  

NO YOU LISTEN. BOTH OF YOU. THIS MAY BE ALL ACADEMIC TO YOU ON YOUR SNUG LITTLE SHIP, BUT THIS IS OUR SAFETY WE’RE TALKING ABOUT. IF THIS PLAN DOESN’T WORK, NASA COULD COME FOR US, WITHOUT WARNING AND AT ANY TIME. 

  

__ 

  

“But…” 

  

But… 

  

__ 

  

NO BUTS. WE’RE GREATFUL FOR YOUR HELP SO FAR. REALLY. BUT ENOUGH BICKERING. IT’S GETTING EMBARRASING.  EITHER JUST KISS EACH OTHER OR DO SOMETHING ELSE TO DISPEL THE SEXUAL TENSION. 

  

__ 

  

“There’s no sexual tension.” 

  

__ 

  

OH PLEASE. BET YOU FIFTY BUCKS YOU GUYS GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER BEFORE THIS IS ALL OVER. AND WE WON’T EVEN GET A WEDDING INVITE, I’M SURE. 

  

WE’RE READY TO LAUNCH. COMMENCING FINAL DIAGNOSTICS. PLEASE DO THE SAME. 

  

__ 

<END TRANSMISSION> 

  

“…Well, they certainly told us.” 

  

Yeah. We’ve been a bit foolish. 

  

“We have… I’m sorry. We should focus on saving the Marys.” 

  

I feel strange. 

  

“It could be shame.” 

  

No, I’m not sure it’s shame. I feel bad, sure… 

  

“It could be unrequited love.” 

  

…Ok, yes, it’s shame.