The wealthy elite love the view of the world’s peasantry from above
Have you ever had that itch that you need to escape Earth’s gravitational forces for the buoyancy only space can provide? This father and son duo is living your wildest fantasies, taking an exuberant vacation around the moon. I tagged along to see the vast abyss of space for myself (and for the first class inflight snacks).
Richard Jones, CEO of AM steel, the world’s largest steel producer, has teamed up with NASA to engineer a recreational space ship for the adventure. But it was his 11 year old son Declan who propositioned his father to build it, after he and his Brazilian nanny took a private tour of the popular D.C. Air and Space Museum.
Afterwards, still feeling his stomach churning from the astronaut simulator, he looked up to the night sky in awe and dismay.
The stars shimmered down taunting him, “I just remember each twinkle speaking to me saying, ‘You’ll never be able to feel your skin simmer and sizzle from the proximity of our scorching heat from the volatile mixture of hydrogen and helium combusting, better luck dying from eating too many Big Macs resulting in congenital heart disease on planet Earth.”
I later asked him where he learned all of this at the ripe age of 11 and he retorted, “No, the stars actually spoke to me, I don’t even know what congenital heart disease is.”
Declan reached into the pocket of his Givenchy suit, retrieving one of his seven smartphones.
The rich baritone of his father’s voice greeted him, “How was the Air and Space Museum? Are you feeling like an astronaut yet?”
Declan replied, “It was childish at most, I just wish there was some way I could go to space and see the stars in person. All the layers of the atmosphere and light pollution dilute the true magnificence of the night sky.”
His father chuckled, “Did you forget that we are exuberant billionaires that can afford anything and everything? Soon enough you’ll become the astronaut you’ve dreamed of becoming since — when did you have this epiphany?”
“About five minutes ago.”
“Well then we’ll make your five minute old dream come true! You’ve waited long enough.”
Declan skipped with glee all the way home, only tripping over one homeless man, who his father later sued for reckless endangerment.
A week later, Declan and his father, Blue Ivy, and myself were strapped into a brand new rocket ship heading for a slingshot trip around the moon.
Blue Ivy leaned over to Declan and whispered, “How can you afford to take a trip around the moon?”
Declan chuckled, “My Papa is a billionaire CEO, this spaceship is made with his company’s steel! What about you?”
“My mom, Beyoncé, has been spending all of her time with the twins, so I bought myself a round trip ticket with the money I made from my luxury child beauty line, Blue Hivy. All of our products are made with organic beeswax and honey.”
As the spaceship grumbled beneath us ready for launch, Declan shifted anxiously in his seat, “I can’t wait to watch the plebeians shrink to the size they deserve to be,” he smiled sinisterly, “They’ll be miniscule ants I can squish with my pinky toe! I’ll be larger, in charger and on top of the world!”
As the ship rocketed up out of Earth’s atmosphere, Declan leaned against his seat with his eyes closed, “This is how God must feel, I will be a God amongst men.” He must’ve thought that for the rest of his life, which granted, was not going to be much longer.
As we passed through the thermosphere the ship’s steel began to warp in the heat and friction. Declan desperately looked to his father next to him, but realized much too late he was only a hologram.
“Papa! What is happening to the ship?” We all screamed as our skin began to blister in the intensifying heat of the ship.
His hologram blinked back at him, “Son, we cut corners producing our steel so that we can have the biggest margins possible. The ship’s steel is actually 35 percent human flesh and bones from the child laborers who have died under the grueling conditions we force them to work in for five cents an hour. It’s the most efficient way to deal with the bodies, and it’s recycled so it’s not bad for the environment.”
He looked out the inflamed window of the space ship, and tried to peer down at the Earth, but the smog from the multitude of his father’s steel factories densely clouded the ozone, so he couldn’t actually see the surface.
Blue Ivy smirked as Declan’s body began to disintegrate. Swiftly, she grabbed my hand and whispered “hold on”, and using her new age StarFleet technology, we teleported out of the sweltering space ship, leaving Declan to die.
As Blue Ivy and I rematerialized in a hip recording studio, she let go of my sweaty palm, declared “What a rush!” and hopped into Jay Z’s lap.
Delirious and skin still blistering, I wandered outside just in time to look up and see the ship explode like fireworks. I closed my eyes and thanked my lucky stars for Beyoncé who inadvertently saved my life for the second time (the first was with her release of her Grammy snubbed Lemonade).
Tessa More is a second year journalism major who periodically dreams about being abducted by benign aliens. You can reach them at firstname.lastname@example.org