Space Jumper

By Mark Rankin

A saddened and broken-down young man on the edge of suicide wakes up one night to a crash in his backyard. Sent from the depths of space, a pair of shoes with special straps allow him to jump high in the air, walk on clouds, and breathe in space. Tired of the hardships of earth, Mark gathers some gear and is ready to hit the universe hard with good intent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984513601

Mark Rankin

His name is Mark Rankin, from Daly City, California. He has been writing short stories and ideas since he started school as a kid. He likes to ride his motorcycle, goes to the gym, and still thinks he can play sports. He enjoys drawing, and editing video. He has an American dad and a Brazilian mom.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Earth

A fresh bottle of painkillers sits next to a cold bed in California, as a young, athletic man named Mark lays wide-awake, feeling the bluest of the blue, staring at plastic stars stuck on his ceiling. Loud, erotic, noises shake from the basement of his parent’s house. A static fills the air as a tear slips down the cheek of the depressed man. His bed is as cold as a sheet of ice, living a dreadful reality with divorced parents, mostly because of him. The girl he once loved lays in a room ten feet below him, in a bed not his, but the bed of someone close.

Failing realizations of the future are what Mark struggles to find on the ceiling. Flashbacks in his mind are consistent of the painful reality that scars an imprint from a weight unbearable to carry. The static from the tear has tremendous volume, felt immediately throughout his parents squeaky house. Floorboards crackle with age as the motion of Earth is shook from a man who gives so much positivity and virtue, and in return, left a heart full of black. His soul is on fire with room to run. Mark closes his eyes and eases to sleep, living a life worse than a nightmare.

Zzzzzzzzzsh, powww! A loud noise crashes in his backyard, creating a shockwave of vibration.

Mark pops awake from his sleep.

What, the hell, was that? He says slowly and sarcastically. Warm bodied, he hops out of bed to the cold night.

He crouches down next to his window and opens the curtains. He wipes precipitation off the glass. Outside, smoke trickles upward to darkness and fog. Strangely close to his bedroom, a dark rock-looking pillar sits hard on the grass of his backyard with blue and white lights gently strobing.

Damn! He exclaims in a whisper. Standing up in a flash, he leaps across his room to turn on the lights.

I’ve gotta find my flashlight. He says, scrambling around his room. He rushes to a spot under his bed where he remembers his flashlight sits. Gotcha! He whispers with a smirk. Blind luck, he grabs the flashlight and walks across the carpet to his slippers, jumping inside to warm his feet. He spins on his evening robe from his hanger, and approaches the door. Everything makes a noise, as he creeps out of the creaky room, trying not to make a creak.

Each step creates a creak with each creak being louder than the last. With a disappointed exhale, Mark makes his way through his dark house to the stairs at a normal pace. Easy and second nature to maneuver, he remembers the many routes taken inside, like a cat walking in the dark.

Tip toeing casually down the dark stairs, maintaining stealth near the bottom step, he hears his older brother in the next room snoring deep. The television plays a pop song from the radio, as Mark walks away towards the door to the back yard of the house. Reaching for the knob with a calm hand, he unlocks the door with stealth in mind.

Peeking out of the crack of the door, he notices smoke rising from the center of the yard. With the door partially open, he shines his light at the anomaly. What the hell? He whispers with annoyance, attempting to figure out what is happening.

Difficult to see through fog and smoke, he creeps towards the wreckage, cautiously shining light in areas of the yard most suspect to rodents and other creepy things, like a bush. He stands in front of a capsule, a smooth ice-cold boulder, over seven feet tall. He looks for a way to open the device, shining light around the anomaly, smooth as stone. Nothing appears openable.

Blinking lights pulse from the top of the capsule. He reaches up to one of the lights, and slaps the stone with his palm. Electricity strikes his hand as the device exhales smoke.

The rock opens with a receding front cover. Layers of rock move inward and upward towards the back, unveiling a crackling of light, with a smoky energy encompassing the center of the capsule. The smoke clears, as Mark notices a pair of shoes in the middle of the capsule, connected to several cables.

Cool! He says enthusiastically to himself. Looking left and right, he unhooks cables from the soles of the shoes, grabbing the shoes by the foot openings with a comical sense of mischief. He quickly walks to his house, cradling the weightless space shoes in his arms.

In his room, he presses his back against the door, out of breath. He locks the door on the knob, and walks forward. He drops the shoes on his bed, and observes there presence. A pair of rings circle the top of each shoe, connecting around ankle protectors. Mark scratches his chin, studying the aesthetics. Being early in the morning, he places the shoes on the ground at the foot of his bed, and slaps off the light switch. He jumps into bed, and falls asleep quickly.

The next day, Mark wakes up to chatter and various noises from his home. Moans heard from his brothers room in the basement.

Shoes! Mark exclaims to himself, hopping towards the front of his bed. They sit on his beige carpet with a natural look in his room, as if meant to be there, as if they already had a place in the presence of Mark’s room.

He sits at the end of his bed, and slides his foot through the right high-top shoe, with cotton-like openings. The shoe sits above the ankle, with straps across and around for comfort and stability. He slides his foot the same way into the other shoe. Comfortable on his feet with a perfect fit, Mark stands up and does arm and leg calisthenics, like preparing for a jog. The rings around the shoes begin to flicker and glow. The top light is white, and the bottom is blue. A numbing and tickling sensation tingles his legs.

Nice. He says to himself, comfortably pacing around his room. He jumps in place, finding an amazing amount of force beneath his jump, as if something is pushing him upward. With another small jump, with more effort, he crashes hard to the ceiling, drops to the floor, and lands on his stomach.

What the fff… Oww. He groans in pain, rubbing his head as rubble and drywall continue to drop to the floor.

He gets up quickly, cracking his back doing so. He makes his way to the living room of his house, and stands by the front window. Mark sees his older brother open his car door for his own ex-girlfriend. The couple does not see Mark at the window, staring down at both of them with disappointment.

What did I do to deserve this? He sighs to himself behind the glass. The two drive away, up the road, and out of sight.

Mark makes his way back outside to the back yard. Enjoying a brief moment of fresh California air, Mark adjusts his eyes to the fresh and unique morning. Everything becomes quickly tainted with thoughts of heartbreak and grim, with plenty of remorse. His heart beats in halves, incomplete from all of the troubles in his life. Looking forward, the large stone from space sits crashed on the ground. The lights on the vessel continue to blink as he shakes off his own bad thoughts. He walks to the capsule, observing it better with the clarity of day. He takes a few steps back and observes the capsule as a whole. Mark spontaneously jumps up in the air.

Looking straight ahead at eye level, Mark rises fast and high with speed. Nervous towards the peak of the jump, high in the clouds, he closes his eyes and feels the sensation of falling. When he opens his eyes, he finds himself standing on top of a cloud in the air.

Woah! He says to himself, struggling to maintain balance. This is really cool, but feels weird. I kind of want to get down now? He nervously says to himself.

Inching towards the edge of the cloud, his feet hover above the mist. Able to get a good view of how high he jumped, landmarks like the neighborhood grocery store down the road, and the radio tower miles away, measure distance, and scale. Above the cloud, Mark can see across the entire Bay Area, from San Francisco, California to Hayward. He notices the Golden Gate Bridge, the Bay Bridge, and the San Mateo Bridge, all from his height and perspective.

He studies a nice cloud off in the distance, over the beach area near his house. He crouches down, and jumps off the cloud, many more miles up in to the air.

The air turns cold, as he gets higher and higher up. The white t – shirt and shorts become no match to the frigid upper atmosphere. In mid – air, Mark’s body begins to freeze and stiffens. He veers toward the direction of his aimed cloud, peaking the jump. The frozen person plummets back to Earth on a crash course to the beach if he does not snap out of the ice.

Layers of clouds miraculously catch the special shoes, partially slowing his descent. Close to Earth’s surface, Mark regains consciousness, flexing off most of the ice.

Dangerously close to the beach near his house, he lands stomach first on the sand. Bouncing and sliding on the forgiving sand for some major distance, helpless to the rough gravity and physics, he eventually stops sliding. Tumbling forward with his feet almost over his head like a scorpion, he lays still on the sand, appearing dead, as his feet plop down behind him. After a few seconds, he lifts his head from the sand and grumbles in a severely broken pain.

Ouch, that hurt! That hurt, that did not feel good. Ohh man my back, Ahhhh! He exclaims, laying on the sand, holding his back. It takes him several minutes to build the strength to get up. Aww, wow dude, what the hell. He says, attempting to stand.

Lucky for him, nobody really saw the crash. People on the beach think he is on drugs. Poor soul, life must be rough for him. An elderly man says, walking on the sand.

After several minutes of mental preparation, Mark limps to the nearby road, and sits on a bench by a bus stop, exhaling pain with each breath. He takes off his right shoe and holds it in his hand. He flips it upside down, causing the sand to trickle out of the hole. He does the same for the other shoe. Once the shoes are empty, he struggles in pain to put them back on his feet.

Several minutes later, the bus arrives at the bus stop by the bench. Mark limps up and off the bench, holding his shoes in his left hand. An elderly woman using a cane puts her arm around him, and takes some of the weight off his limped legs, assisting him up the stairs of the bus. Appearing to be in her seventies, Mark looks over at the sweet old women, and smiles. They enter the bus as Mark uses a card to pay. He grabs the hanging rail and holds on tight until his stop near his home.

The bus doors close as Mark exits at his stop. After a painful walk up the road to his house, Mark is almost home. The weather is clear and beautiful, as his mother exits the house. Her new boyfriend waits outside in his expensive car. Mark is a couple of short blocks away, as he continues to walk forward, minding his own business, as his business has just become bigger than anything this world has ever seen.

His mom drives away in the car, as he continues up the road to his house. In his room, Mark drops the shoes at the foot of the bed. He throws clothes from his closet over his bed, preparing for the cold weather of outer space.

A sweater and two different jackets lay stacked on his bed. Thin silk pants fly in the air like a bag in the wind, as a pair of blue jeans quickly follow. A pair of fingerless gloves and a scarf drop down on top of everything.

From head to toe, Mark’s ensemble is as follows, prescription glasses and headphones on his head, with a scarf around his neck. A white long sleeve shirt is his base, with a grey t-shirt over the long sleeve. A white sweater goes over the shirts, with a blue snow jacket over the sweater. A heavy black pea coat flies over the snow jacket to complete his top layers.

His lower half starts with thin silk pants and blue jeans over the silk. A pair of fingerless gloves strap around his wrists. He tightens his waist belt, making his ensemble almost set. The missing ingredients are the shoes.

These things are way too cool. He says, slipping the shoes to his feet. The lights on the rings begin to glow around his legs.

The backpack he uses for school sits on the floor. He places the bag on his bed and begins to collect tools from around his room. His tablet computer device slips comfortably in the front pocket. He gathers fireworks, a flashlight, a BB gun revolver, snacks, drinks, batteries, a notebook, a pencil, a pen, and a map of space and the star patterns. Under his bed, he reaches for his special hatchet with a curved blade on the side, and a sharp, arrow-like point on the other. He organizes everything inside his school bag.

Inspecting his desk, he grabs a lighter, and another one close by. Flicking the flints, firing flames at the same time, he tests which of the two lighters has more juice. He takes them both, and finds an additional lighter, throwing it in the collection. He zips the bag closed, and moves quickly out of his room.

Back to his noisy backyard, he observes everything in his surroundings. Sharp pains strike inside his head. Pains remembered from his recent past, and pains not yet seen. The pain grows worse and worse, the longer he stands on Earth. He kneels down with all of the pain, and clutches his head with his sweaty hands inside his gloves. Earth’s normal air becomes difficult to breathe as the sharp brain strikes grow sharper. He foresees a mashup of miserable realizations of what his life would become if he stays on Earth. With a strong and painful jump from his heavy squat, Mark is soon fighting the force of air from his face. He moves upward fast, like a high-speed elevator. Eye level with the increasing elevation, Mark clenches his fist, and thrusts the sky through the thin clouds, landing gracefully above the mist.

Oh, man. He exhales, straightening his crooked face, and fixing his hair.

He adjusts his bag by tightening the straps, and jumps on the cloud like a diving board. The powerful shoes propel him upward with tremendous force and speed. Moving higher up, less weight affects his face as breathing becomes difficult. Landing on a cloud higher up, at an elevation over three thousand feet, he plants over the fluffy white air above the atmosphere.

Suddenly, a shock strikes both of his feet like numerous, microscopic needles poking his skin. The top set of rings around his space shoes begin to blink, as a cool breeze electrifies his legs, and move up his sides. The shock continues through his neck, and subsides at the back of his head. Breathing begins to ease, as the air around him becomes weightless. The shoes begin to differentiate Earth’s atmosphere to the gravity in space.

Looking to space, clouds become unavailable to land on. He appreciates the current cloud he stands on, and clenches his teeth as he squats down. He charges his hamstrings for a few seconds, and slingshots power to his calves, launching him to space with his biggest jump yet. The world around his peripheral vision begins to turn dark, as the day feels like it turns to night in an instant.

Soaring to space with speed, Earth appears smaller and smaller behind as the miles increase. His momentum begins to decline as he turns around the space. Just like the pictures. He says to himself, staring at Earth.

The smells of space are different from the smells of Earth. A thickness in his nostrils make them feel like they are bleeding. Wiping his nose, he sniffles the cold substance above the highest level of Earth’s air. For a moment, everything smells like a new pair of shoes, fresh out of the box, with a subtle hint of Mark’s sweaty feet. Outer space soon begins to lose all forms of smell. No worries in Mark’s mind as the dread and sorrow he feels rises from his shoulders.

The taste of space becomes heavy and weird, like swallowing a handful of marbles. The mix of both absent taste and smell perplexes Mark as he slowly floats through the low gravity space. The shoes give him the ability to breathe some kind of artificial air he remembers from Earth. His eyes begin to water, as he looks around the space. He adjusts his glasses, adapting his vision to all of the space. His fingertips grow numb, making his legs quiver as he continues floating above the distant Earth.

Catching a second wind of some kind of air, Mark breathes deep, and stretches his limbs like waking up from a relaxing nap. He crouches down, weightless in space, and prepares for another big jump. He leaps, but goes nowhere. His heart stops beating in his chest for a moment of time, like dying in space. He corrals his soul back to his body with a hearty breath. Collecting himself, he notices strange waves of color directly above him.

Swimming upward in a frantic motion, his arms flail and flop in circles, looking like he is drowning in space. He aims his feet up for the slightly spinning blue and green wave of color. He reloads a crouch, and jumps off the strip of colors, launching him deeper into space and furthering himself from Earth.

Breathing gradually becomes normal through his nose and mouth. His vision begins to adapt to the strange darkness of space. He looks around to notice the blue and green gasses growing in abundance as he speeds forward. Maneuvering his body towards the gassy field, he continues to jump upward. I think I’m getting the hang of this. He says to himself, increasing momentum and distance from Earth.

Earth fades away, smaller and smaller with the moon appearing larger and larger ahead with each jump. After a jump with medium acceleration, Mark flips his backpack to his chest and unzips the small bottom pocket. He pulls out his tablet computer device with the battery on the screen reading one hundred percent.

I’ve really gotta watch the battery. How am I going to charge this thing? He realizes.

Browsing an internet application, he searches for the distance to the International Space Station from his current location. A map displays the route to the space station on screen, only taking a few seconds, approximately two hundred miles away. Absorbing the information, he quickly turns off the tablet, and stuffs it back in his bag. He untwines his headphones, sliding them under his shirts, and pops them in his ears. Connected to his tablet device, he plays his playlist on shuffle, as he jumps towards the nearest space gas in the direction of the International Space Station.

A hip-hop song bangs on his headphones, as Mark nods to the beat, jumping fluently through the empty space. Jamming, the stars create strange formations in front of his eyes. The universe is awake, and moves to his beat, as Earth remains visible behind him.

Mark’s stamina runs low, as jumping through space is not easy. The rations that fill his bag keep him alive and well for this very reason. With a survivalist state of mind, he must test his cardio, pushing forward to cut the distance from Earth to the space station.

Thirsty, he stops for a moment on a patch of blue and green gas, as he searches his bag for food and water. His preserved food and drinks are rich in protein, sugar, and other nutrients that can maintain a stable diet for him. With plenty of beef jerky and Gatorade to survive the trials of the universe, Mark eats his food, drinks his drink, and is back on route to the ISS.

His legs begin to ache from the constant jumping. He stops moving for a moment, and lies down in space. With limited momentum, he closes his eyes and rests. He breathes deep and slow, deep in thought, with musical aid in his ears. He dreams of Earth and the darkness left behind, substituted by darkness ahead. The pain is sharp, and relevant, infused with strange, vomitus feelings. Suddenly, his dream shifts to a vision of the International Space Station. The hair on his skin tingles, thinking of such salvation, a home for the jumping space wanderer. Deep in rest, a smile slowly grows on his face. A vision of himself is with the astronauts aboard the space station. Quickly waking from his power nap, Mark floats in the darkness of space, still and quiet.

He yawns away the pain in his legs, stretching his limbs. Unaware of how much time has passed, he presses the awake button on his tablet, activating the map for the distance to the space station. He raises the tablet over his head in the direction of the ISS to acquire a more accurate reading. Nearly there, with only fifty miles of space jumping to go, he looks at his tablet, then to space, back and forth, pin pointing the station from his current location.

The station is a big, bright star, surrounded by thousands of smaller stars, blinking in the distance. His heart widens with relief, realizing how close he is to the International Space Station. He bags his tablet.

Refreshed, he jumps from the gravity platform, and speeds towards the blinking light of the space station. Swerving left and right through space, Mark is in search of the nearest gravity platform to propel off. The structure of the station appears larger in the distance.

What started as a small blinking light has now formed into a massive vessel, with large satellites on the wings. He steers his body like a bullet in the direction of the main hull of the metallic station. The International Space Station floats before him.

A strange feeling encompasses his body when he places his hand on the chilly and massive hull. Veering towards a window to his left, he keeps his hand on the station. Poking his face to a glass window, his hands cover his head to get a better view. Inside, the ship is dark, but Mark is able make out science equipment, sitting on tables and desks. Some beakers, a bench, and some desk lights scatter around the small room. He pushes away from the window to notice a better perspective, arising to his left.

Another window is to his side, with an airlock attached. He swims towards the door, landing his body flush on the cold panels. Resting his face on the plastic window, he looks inside with a creepy smile. Bright lights arise from inside the cramped quarters of what appears to be a laboratory.

Two people in space outfits float inside the small room. Mark clenches his fist, and softly knocks his knuckles on the window. Grabbing their attention, both of the astronauts are tremendously startled. They panic around the room and hyperventilate, absolutely freaking out over the presence of this person floating outside. They notice Mark outside, smiling back at them. Mark waves his hand to them with a look on his face that says, hey people, can I come in.

The astronauts collect themselves once they realize the person appears human, and is alive. One of the astronauts points to an airlock while floating towards it. Mark nods in approval, and waits for the astronaut. An alarm raises through the station, causing a green light to shine overhead. Mark spins the circular hatch until it stops, and pushes the door open. Mark is relieved to arrive at the International Space Station.

Chapter 2

Space Station

Before gaining entrance inside the station, there is a middle area where air and gravity meet and exchange. Cradled inside the cramped room, Mark floats around as air begins to spew inside the chamber. The heavy door opens with a loud hiss, slowly revealing an astronaut holding a drill, pointed at Mark’s head.

Whoa! Relax, I come in peace from Earth, my name is Mark. He says with his hands up. How did you get here? The astronaut curiously asks. The shoes I’m wearing dropped in my backyard from space during the night. I can jump through the gravity, land on clouds, and weird space gas, and not worry about suffocating. Mark explains.

My god! The astronaut exclaims.

My goal is to take them as far away as I can, because Earth sucks now, dude. Mark says to the astronaut. Why do you think we’re up here? The astronaut jokes. Mark looks at the other astronaut and says Hi, I’m Mark, from Earth.

I’m John, also from Earth.

And I’m Roger, Roger Clark.

Cool, Mark replies with intrigue. The three space men float in the lab and observe each other’s presence.

So where are you from, Mark? Roger Clark asks. I’m from California, the Bay Area. Mark replies. California boy! John says with bravado. Yeah. Mark chuckles with a lack of enthusiasm. What are you guys doing up here? Mark asks the astronauts. We are an experimental group, sent here to try and better humanity back on Earth. We live day by day up here to help determine how long humans can live in space. We enhance our ability to adapt and adjust within the inter-galactic environments. We grow plants, food, and water using technology from Earth to create a foundation for a bigger station. Roger Clark proclaims to Mark, and his partner John.

You’re pretty lucky, kid. I can’t imagine how many people would love to be in your shoes. John says. Yeah, I bet. Mark replies with a sarcastic sorrow.

Is there anything I can do to help you guys further your research? Mark asks. The astronauts look at each other and smile sarcastically. There are a few things you could check out for us, if you have time. John says.

I have all the time in the universe. Mark replies, smiling wide.

The astronauts and Mark sit on chairs at a table bolted to the floorboard. As a joke, John the astronaut pours water slowly from a pouch, into a set of glasses on the table. The three men clink drinks, as drops of water floats out of their glass. Mark finesses his cup to throw the water in his mouth.

There’s an asteroid not too far from here, Mark, just floating out there. It does not possess a threat, but our scopes and satellites and have discovered an artifact on it. Roger Clark says.

How far is not too far? Mark asks the astronauts. Not too far is around five thousand miles away. John replies with a hiccup.

With those shoes, I don’t think it’ll take very long to get there. Roger adds. I’ll check it out. Mark says confidently. Excellent, give this dossier a read. It should explain everything. Roger Clark says handing Mark a manila folder with the word classified on the front.

Mark turns away, and opens the envelope. He reads the strange schematics of a machine beyond his intelligence level can grasp. He flips through pages, blueprints, and details of the schematics, and the asteroid.

Thanks. Mark says to the astronauts, motioning to the dossier. He flips his bag from his back, and slips the dossier inside. Well, I’m gonna can get going then. This thing isn’t going to get itself. Mark says, adjusting the straps to his backpack.

Well, alright then, good luck out there. Our radio signal is inside the dossier. Keep us informed of your actions if you need help. Roger Clark says. No problem. Mark replies.

The three men float through the room to the airlock. Mark spins the hatch open, and meanders his body inside the transfer room. God speed. Roger Clark says, saluting to Mark, who looks back and nods back.

The heavy door seals shut behind him, creating a loud crash, spreading noise. Air begins to force into the chamber, spewing from the cracks, creating a loud hissing noise. Mark spins the hatch to the outside, pulling the heavy door open. Space is much colder outside, as compared to the warmth of the well-lit interior from the station.

Mark takes out the dossier and his large paper map of the galaxy from his bag to compare the two distances. Calculating the route to the asteroid, connecting a path using constellations, he visualizes an imaginary line to where the asteroid is located, according to the documents. Folding the paperwork to a small size, he places the maps in his bag, and throws it all on his back. He tightens the straps, exhaling a deep breath.

He plants his feet on a flat, metal part of the station, and leaps like a grasshopper towards the objective. Heavy noises rumble from the shifting metal of the station. His left arm is to his side, with his right stretched up, and over his head, punching momentum through the cold, dark space. The initial jump from the station cuts his distance to the asteroid by a third, as the moon brightly shines to his right. As he flies by, carrying momentum, he floats many miles per hour in the direction of the asteroid.

Patches of colorful gravity fields hover ahead in his direction, as Mark cracks a smile, slowing pace. Laying on his back with his feet forward, he attempts to slow trajectory over a gravity field. Breaking momentum, he finally comes to a stop. Pressure from his body mass creates a funny feeling in his stomach, as he brakes speed like a crashing car, crumbling certain spots upon impact. He flexes his chest and stomach muscles, and embraces the withdrawal in speed.

His route slightly repositions, as he continues forward on gravity fields, chipping away the distance to the mysterious asteroid. There is not much color in the near space ahead, with the stars far away providing a backlight.

After a few more big jumps, the dark asteroid begins to appear to his nine o’clock. Carrying too much momentum in his approach, Mark zooms past the asteroid, flailing his arms around in slow motion, failing to reach the asteroid as he floats by. To his luck, there are gravity fields surrounding the area. He lands on two, separate planks of space gas, using them as brakes to deter his route. Standing on the fields, he calculates the proper trajectory to the asteroid with a lighter lift off.

The asteroid is a medium shade of brown, almost red, with an obscure oval shape, with many craters and mountains. Aiming towards the peak of a crater, he lands hard on his feet, tripping into a judo roll as his shoes scrape the terrain. Regaining balance, he slides about twenty feet to a stop. He stands up, and brushes the dust off his clothes. Reaching for his bag, he pulls out the map and dossier. According to the paperwork, the anomaly is sticking out of the ground somewhere a few miles from his position.

He walks slowly towards the destination, feeling out his steps, and taking in the sights. The moon and Earth sit in view on the horizon. Mark pretends to pinch the shrunken Earth with his two fingers, closing his left eye, as he smirks. He quickly lunges fast toward the objective, building momentum to a run.

He floats each step, trotting forward on the rocky asteroid. Increasing momentum, Mark runs and weaves through rocky obstacles. Breathing deep, the air is thin and fine, filtered from the shoes, snug on his feet. Huge hills stand in front, as Mark gracefully hops up the mountainside to the peak using the power of the cool shoes. He slides down a hill, landing on a flat spot below.

Standing still, a noise shakes through his clothes from behind. He turns around to find a large worm, with grimacing teeth, slowly emerge out of a cave. It lunges its head outward, attempting to bite Mark. The medium sized space worm is nearly the same color as the asteroid. Alerted, Mark flinches and jumps back several feet up. He takes out his BB gun, attached to a clip on his belt. He loads the hammer on the back of the revolver, and takes aim. He fires one shot at the worm, nailing its evil looking face with a direct hit. The force behind the bullet appears small, but carries great weight and speed due to the physics of outer space.

The tiny bullet slightly penetrates the soft head of the worm, causing it to float backwards, lifeless to its cave. Mark lands his feet back on the asteroid, cautious of more worms, and quickly continues to his objective.

Large gaps in the ground drop to deep and cavernous trenches in the asteroid. He jumps swiftly over the first gap, proceeding forward. He clambers up another small mountain using his hands and feet, clawing into the rocks, until he reaches a peak. Able to see most of the asteroid’s surface ahead, a blinking light sits on the ground in the distance. His eyebrows raise with curiosity.

He slides down the rocky hill towards the base, and jumps across another medium sized gap in the ground. With strong paces forward, Mark stands in front of the lost alien tool. Discarded by someone or something, he picks it out of the ground like a carrot, dusts off the rocky residue, and inspects the tool. Hmm. He ponders.

He stuffs the silver device in his bag, points his body in the direction of the Space Station, and with no time to lose, he is up with a gigantic leap off the ground.

Heading back to the space station with haste, he bounces off cool colored gravity fields, quickly and easily. The station emerges fast in front. Landing feet first slowly on the side of the station, he walks sideways on the metallic hull, and crawls to the familiar hatch. He bangs on the door, and waits. The astronauts release pressure to the middle room as the green light on the outside of the station shines bright. Mark spins open the hatch, and crawls inside the neutral zone. The door to the outside closes as the door to the inside opens. John and Roger greet Mark, floating inside the chamber.

How’d it go? Roger Clark asks. Saying nothing, letting his actions speak louder than words, Mark reaches in his bag for the tubular tool, and presents