Not going home

Gardener broke the news to us. We cannot return to Earth. This is a decision that is outside of his control. He will return but Broccoli, Sunflower, little Zuc, and I will not. Gardener said the new crew will be busy with their mission work and cannot take care of us. If left behind, we would simply be returned to the compost. He said there is an alternative, one where we could make a contribution to science. Instead of decomposing in the compost, he could press us in the big book. Thus, we would return to Earth as dried, flattened, scientific specimens.

A visceral shock ran from stem to root. The will to survive is a trait that runs strong in the frontier. What can we do? Given that the endpoint for us is the same, it became clear that Gardener’s alternative was the best choice; we unanimously decided to contribute what we can to science. I asked Gardener if he would be there to help in the scientific investigations. He said, “yes”.

He stuck the World Atlas on a spot of Velcro next to us and repeated, as if trying to convince himself, that there was nothing he could do. He could not look at us when he said this.