First Flight

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author owns exclusive rights to this story.

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Stars surrounded Penelope. Her peripheral vision seemed to be incredibly impaired, white entering the edge of her sight. Even feeling the bulk of the pack against her back, she certainly was not hampered by its weight. Looking down, she grinned as she remembered the controls at her hands. A slight twitch of the stick under her left palm and she was rotating slowly to the right. Her mouth fell open in surprise, taking in gulps of air that tasted somewhat musty and stale. 

The speaker in her suit buzzed and crackled, but otherwise no sound came through. She could only assume that there was interference from the equipment she came to repair. The poofy white arm of her space suit obscured her vision slightly, and she moved to view the massive machines from a better angle. Despite the two satellites orbiting the planet, her gaze rested not on the devices she had come to repair but instead on the great orb Penelope called home. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating with anxiousness. It seemed to hang perfectly still in front of her, flat against the black backdrop of space. A delighted smile covered her face as she stared, barely restraining the impulse to reach out and touch the Earth. Another crackle of the radio in her ear reminded her that she did have a task to complete.

Her attention returned to the two satellites that were slowly moving towards each other. If the huge constructs managed to collide, their component parts could easily kill hundreds on the planet below. Regretting the fact that she would not be allowed more time to view the Earth from such a magnificent angle, Penelope depressed the button under her right palm to fire the rockets attached to the fuel pack on her back. The swirling white patterns painted broadly across the blue oceans beneath her faded from her view as she quickly aligned herself with the orbit of the closest satellite. When she reached the construct, sound crackled a third time over her headset.

Pausing as she reached out with her tiny hands to place the first of the positional rockets on the thick ballasts, she spoke into the microphone resting against her lower lip. “Say again?” Feeling a shadow fall over her, she turned as quickly as the rockets would allow, swallowing her gasp.

“I said it's time to go, Penelope.”

Staring up into her mother's face, she nodded, turning to take one last glance at the exhibit. Scuffing her shoes along the floor, Penelope slid her tiny eight-year-old hand into her mother's palm. Looking up at her mother, her eyes wide with wonder, she smiled broadly. “One of these days, mommy, I'm going to go up in one of those suits.”

Her mother kissed her tiny hand. “I'm sure you will, baby. I'm sure you will.”

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