Chapter 3: Should I stay, come back, or do something else?

Kite finds himself ending his sentence in a way he never anticipated, and he feels a profound sense of confusion.

In truth, I had planned to spend my time reading until the end of my sentence. Thankfully, humanity has accumulated enough books throughout history that, even if we sort through our preferences, we can never hope to read them all in one lifetime.

But now, the situation is different.

With the land on the ground seemingly devastated, there’s no hope for replenishing food or water. The only positive news is that if we ration carefully, the supplies will last for about six months.

"Master Hughes, please present your future plans."

"That's all I have."

The prison officer's words ring with harsh reality.

Even if we remain here, what awaits us is hunger.

I gazed out the window. The Earth's orbital elevator had shattered, revealing scarred red and brown landscapes, as if eaten away by insects. Did this happen during the latest conflict? Was there a massive asteroid impact? Or is this Earth’s judgment on selfish humanity?

I don’t know, and I don’t wish to find out. I can’t feel optimistic about landing on Earth, where civilization seems to have collapsed. Even if civilization were intact, would I want to return?

While I pondered, a prison officer prompted me to clarify my thoughts.

"We recommend returning to the surface, as it offers the longest potential for survival."

"That’s true. However, we must also consider the possibility of safe survival after returning to the surface."

"Perhaps it depends on the state of the remaining civilization. Do you wish to connect to nearby satellites and check the ground status?"

It’s a reasonable suggestion. Without assessing the ground conditions, accepting or rejecting the proposal would be premature.

Yet Kite felt an unusual reluctance to accept the offer.

Perhaps he fears that, even after an investigation, they will inform him that survival on the ground is impossible.

I didn’t intend for my words to answer the prison guard’s questions.

"Does this prison have spatial navigation capabilities?"

"I am no longer Prison Officer 8979, just as you are no longer Prisoner 279502. I will answer your questions. We still have fuel, so we can travel through space."

Once the prison term ends, the fuel will be returned to Earth.

Surely, like Kite, many prisoners were sentenced to exile. What choices will they make?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something about to crash into Earth.

"How far do you think I can go in my lifetime?"

"I estimate we can reach beyond Mars’ orbit, as long as you survive."

While contemplating these vague responses, I confronted my own heart.

There’s also the option of spending the rest of my days here without concern. However, this option is entirely unappealing.

Should I stay here or return to Earth? I’ve said that I choose neither.

I somehow understand. For Kite, spending his days here isn’t a waste of life. Somewhere in my heart, I feel there will be days after I return to Earth.

The earth I had imagined. There, a new life is beginning to shape the future. Perhaps that’s why I can’t be positive about coming back.

"The ship intended to colonize Mars has completed its orbit around Mars, correct?"

"That’s correct. Eighty-six years ago, the attempt to land on Mars failed due to an accident during landing preparations. The entire crew was lost.

Around that time, global interest in space exploration waned. I recall reading an editorial on Earth saying that in 20 years, I might regain my passion for space exploration, but unfortunately, that day never came.

Even though a spacecraft has reached Mars’ orbit, it may be a foolish choice, but this might be the final journey for humans in today’s civilization. I wish to reach as many people as possible.

The warden’s palace emitted a creaking sound as they conducted calculations.

"How far can I go if I push myself? The orbit of Mars is crucial for my safety, isn’t it?"

"If you don’t consider your safety, collect materials from the surrounding area to modify and accelerate as much as possible. I believe reaching Jupiter’s orbit in about six months is feasible."

"Alright, let’s proceed."

I don’t understand why.

From the moment I made this decision, all other options vanished from Kite’s mind.

Let’s head to the other side. As long as I’m alive, I’ll go as far as I can.

"I will confirm. You don’t wish to return to Earth, do you? I haven’t assessed your condition yet."

"I don’t want to return to Earth. Whether the surface is habitable or not, I still choose to go."

"Understood. Respecting your choice, we will aim for Jupiter’s orbit."

Reaching Jupiter’s orbit doesn’t guarantee survival.

No one knows if there are still people on Earth who remember their exile into space.

It will be a challenging journey. An asteroid strike could mean death along the way.

After all, this is simply a way to die.

Stay and die, return and die, or go and die.

Though it’s a futile choice, Kite feels an odd excitement.

That’s my choice. Where are you heading?

"Hey, the game is getting interesting."

Kite Hughes is freer than anyone else in this confined world, where he can only look around.

It will take a few days before departure.

This is because a prison guard procured fuel to accelerate and reinforce the hull to an extreme extent.

There are already several satellites with some remaining fuel scattered around Earth. If you’re obsessed with things no one controls, dismantle them and build more spacecraft.

The distance to Jupiter’s orbit is about 600 million km. The warden explains that the journey will travel at a speed of 4 million kilometers per day. If something hits us, it’s over. If the ship breaks, it’s over. If another accident occurs, it’s over. The chance of dying en route is far higher than the chance of completing the journey to Jupiter’s orbit.

By the time we were ready to leave Earth, the prison had taken on the form of a spaceship.

Apparently, Kite couldn’t see it.

Perhaps due to its previous use as a prison, there were no spacesuits available for working outside the ship. If the prison sustained damage, a life support suit would be a mere comfort.

Additionally, the modifications were purely external, leaving the interior stark and unadorned.

I can commend the unobstructed view from the window.

"Then, Master Hughes, please name this ship."

"Name...?"

It was an unexpected task. I wish I had been informed earlier.

As I pondered what to do, the prison guard gave me an additional task.

"Can you also name me?"

"Name?"

"Even though I say I’m no longer a prison guard, I will always be one. Please remember that I cannot leave until I have been given a name and the ship has been named."

"Gunu."

There’s a bit of humor in that, right?

On that day, Kite faced a lack of naming abilities for the first time in his life.

A strange method conveys the atmosphere of discontent.

Whether it’s a steel ball or not, it has no expression.

While acquiring such trivial knowledge, Kite waited for the guard’s reaction.

"Master Hughes. Is this sarcasm, or did you seriously decide to name me this?"

"I’m serious, but..."

"Is it 'Emotion'? I’m just a smart machine, so I refer to myself that way."

"Oh, I see. I just don’t like the name of the ship."

"What can I say? It’s actually a lovely name. It clearly conveys the ship’s purpose; anyone who sees its name can understand the intention. I merely praised Master Hughes for his name. But what’s the difference between his name and mine?"

"Open."

What can I say? It’s unexpected.

Actually, I anticipated a reprimand for mocking the ship’s name.

In any case, you can’t avoid it if you dislike it.

"Okay, I’ll think of a new name."

"Image?"

"Yes?"

"I heard that the person named has no authority to refuse."

"If you don’t like it, I’ll reconsider. Is that okay?"

"If you don’t like it, think again."

Despite the reassurance, the response was a sharp cry.

"Hughes didn’t have any particularly negative intentions in naming me, did he?"

"Of course not. It’s a name I risked my life to create out of gratitude and my perception of you."

"In that case, I will accept this name."

"Image?"

"Because I can’t predict that the next name will be better than this one."

I can’t argue with that.

Either way, the former warden seemed to have accepted the new name. He appeared dissatisfied but didn’t press the issue further. It might be better for your mental health.

With the name settled, there wasn’t much time left before departure. Kite also decided to make his request.

"Ah, that’s right. I want you to call me by my name from now on."

"Why is that?"

"The situation on Earth has rendered the use of my surname unnecessary. I want to start anew as Kite, an unknown person."

"I see. I’ll call you Master Kite from now on."

"Thank you."

Suddenly, the plane's attitude shifted.

Looking out the window, it became clear: Earth was no longer visible.

"Sit in the center seat. Secure the straps and backrest firmly."

"Master Kite, we are now setting sail to say goodbye to Earth."

"Please, Emotion."

As the mechanical countdown ticked away, Kite felt a surge of excitement. He wondered how far his life would stretch from Earth. It wasn’t anxiety—he was looking forward to it.

If possible, he wanted to go to a place no one had ever set foot in before. A place free from judgment and criticism. A journey filled with complacency marked humanity’s final departure.

"Departure."

Little did he know, this wouldn’t be his final journey.