CHAPTER 31

As the sensations of gravity settled in, no matter how much of an illusion it really was, items in the galley began to clank and rattle as they shifted in their straps. Yurgani even heard something fall and break. He paid it little mind as he stood by the big video screen and watched the image of his home world beneath them. His mind was consumed with all manner of things as he quietly reflected on what he was leaving behind, and more importantly, on what he was traveling too. A shattered bowl, or whatever it was, could wait.

Unfortunately the recent arrival in the galley was not as easily ignored. Yurgani had, for most of his life, been a man who enjoyed his solitude. Right now he wished for it more than ever but it was logical to assume, that on a space vessel, such joys would be few and far between. Yurgani decided at this moment that he had best start being sociable.

Without even looking back, or acknowledging that he had even seen Jerry walk in, Vitosk asked him, “what manner of priest are you exactly?”

The demand for bucket loads of coffee was already coming in by the same volume. Despite the nature of the moment, everyone was tired and already yawning. No one had slept for nearly eighteen hours and the ships automated night and day cycles had proven to be off kilter. The illumination levels of the huge light panels, in each compartment, were for the purpose of giving the human body some semblance of night and day. They never completely went dark, nor did they ever get too bright, but, they at least helped in letting you forget you were stuck in a tin can.

The problem was that they were supposed to be set for Eastern Standard time, the zone of Cape Canaveral, the final embarkation point into space. It had been seven thirty in the evening when they lifted off and the sky was a spectacular shaded twilight. When they reached Hermes the light levels were burning at high noon. It managed to aid in throwing everyone’s metabolism seriously out of whack.

Since Jerry had felt like a fifth wheel, helping out with the checks over in the B spin module, he volunteered to go set up the coffee machine in the galley. As he did so he could not help but think of how difficult it was. The machine was not like your average brewer back on Earth despite the brand name on it’s side. Jerry smirked as he noticed it was the same brand name that their own commander had hawked, on those silly commercials, for years. Now if he could just get it to work!

“You know we’ve spent so much time training to be astronauts it seems like we didn’t get any instructions on simple things like making coffee in space.” Jerry then answered the question, “and I’m not a priest.”

Now Vitosk did look back. He arched an eyebrow, “as I understood it you are the mission religious advisor, are you not?”

Jerry found the reusable filters strapped down in a cabinet over the coffee machine, “yes that would be me Doctor Vitosk. Only I’m a Baptist Minister. We don’t have priests.”

Vitosk went right back to watching the Earth, “then what do we call you exactly?”

Jerry sighed. How many times had he been over this? Then he realized he had never really talked with Vitosk before. Since the man’s inclusion, in the Hermes Project, he had spent most of his time in California and had not really interacted with the rest of the crew.

“How about just Jerry? I don’t see any reason for titles now. Looks like we’re going to be spending an eternity together.”

Vitosk quickly replied, “hopefully not the kind you are used to selling.”

That did draw a chuckle from Jerry as he went about his task. It naturally led him to the question of, “so Doctor. Exactly what faith do you follow?”

Quite bluntly the Russian replied, “I’m a communist.”

Jerry stopped what he was doing for a moment. He thought the answer quite odd for a lot of reasons. The first of which, being that he was not aware that there were any Russians left who would claim that title. The second, and oddest thing, was that Jerry had never thought of communism in that context before, “no, I meant faith in god, thoughts on the afterlife, that kind of thing. I never really thought of Communism as a religion in the classical sense.”

“Ah but it is,” Vitosk said with a quick glance over his shoulder. With a bit more remorse he responded by saying, “I often think that is exactly where the party went wrong. In the act of replacing the old system they did little more than transforming themselves into that which they sought to do away with. Before the end, they had all of the trappings of any religion. You could pay respects to the patron saint at the wall of the Kremlin. If that were not enough then you could feel uplifted by singing the hymns of the workers salvation. Then it was all rapped up when you could feel solidarity with those around you by marching in the parades.”

Vitosk sighed and went on, “all of them, old tricks I’m afraid. If one is to set out to do something new, then one should actually do something new.”

Jerry considered it for a moment but then realized the Russian had yet to truly answer the question, “so do you actually believe in god?”

“While I might be a communist,” Vitosk replied, “I am also a scientist. The disciplines of my profession dictate that one cannot prove a negative. As it were, I have no evidence in the existence of such a being yet I cannot prove it is not there.”

“Ah,” Jerry went back to work, “the term you’re looking for is agnostic. I just have to ask though, surely, you feel something don’t you? I mean even if, as you say, you can’t prove anything, you must lean one way or the other. You have an opinion don’t you?”

“Most certainly,” Vitosk replied and then went silent.

Jerry waited but then when no explanation was forthcoming he asked for details. At that point Vitosk seemed to get irked but in a controlled kind of way. He answered with resolution, “it is my opinion that if there is such a being as described by the worlds religions, a being that thinks one can simplify life to codified Shakespeare, then most assuredly he is an ass hole.”

The Russian walked out the door at that point. Jerry only laughed and mumbled to himself, “and if birds of a feather flock together then I suspect you’d get along with the almighty just fine.”