[ WP ] `` Humanity spent its childhood reaching for the sky . When they held it in their hands , they found naught but empty space . ''

Looking out on the dark horizon from one of the ship's minuscule windows, Geoffrey sighed as he realized the gravity of his situation. While others were off trying to colonize and terraform the distant reaches of Andromeda, here he was tethered to Earth in a zero gravity orbital module. 
 
 `` All a bloody load,'' he grumbled. 
 
 Ever since he first looked up to the sky, he dreamed of being the next in the Terra Space Agency's settlement program, but alas that dream was crushed when the doctor gave him that somber briefing one stifling August afternoon. 
 
 Geoffrey looked at the fragments of rock and twisted metal floating still just out of reach of the once-blue planet. *Marks of progress and failure*, he observed, *just like all the other bits of rubbish*. He let go of the window handle, sending him drifting through the hall from the observation deck into the bridge where the pilot maintained control of the vessel. 
 
 At the controls was the L5 android assigned to Geoffrey's module, snidely nicknamed `` Major'' by him because of its official demeanor. Geoffrey grabbed onto one of the ship's monitors to steady himself and lower himself onto the floor. 
 
 `` Good day, Mr. Hughes,'' Major said in its unemotional, recorded tone without turning to greet him, `` anything to report?'' 
 
 Geoffrey did n't feel obligated to give this cold, unfeeling mechanism the time of day; but, he was obligated by the android's recording mechanism to report any and all sightings, no matter how mundane or disheartening. 
 
 `` No, nothing to report; just hunks of rubbish and fucking rocks as far as the eye can see.'' 
 
 Without turning to face him, Major said, `` Understood. Report back if any anomalies are present.'' 
 
 *Sure, I'll report back, you piece of shit*. Geoffrey let go of the monitor and silently drifted back out of the bridge over to the plain, white hallway where the window he looked out of still showed the bleak view of his future. He grabbed onto the window handle again, feeling a strange need to look out onto the cluttered orbit. 
 
 In the back of his mind he always hoped that one day he would receive the transmission from headquarters relieving him of orbital report, then maybe he could go back to that doctor and have the necessary operations done. Maybe, he could finally look out and see something more than the dismal display of progress's unwanted effects. He reached out and pressed his free hand on the window, trying in vain to touch what he could never reach. 
 
 *All my life, I just wanted to touch the sky, just to see what was out there. And when I finally reach high enough, all they give me is empty space. * Geoffrey sighed, removed his hand from the window, let go of the handle, and drifted aimlessly back to the observation deck. He did n't want to let Major see him cry. 
 

