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-YEAR---ONE-

"O me! O life!...of the questions of these recurring...," read the words of Walt Whitman.

Benjamin Elwood held in his hand one of the last remaining paper literature. He sat on Deck 78 inside the deep sill of a window. The thermal shielding protected him from the harsh rays of the star that cast red, orange, and yellow beams of light over him. He enjoyed the literary works of poets such as Walt Whitman and Edgar Allan Poe because even in the simplest of times, they were realists. They knew something was coming, and even through the darkest hours, as Whitman said, they "contributed a verse."

All of this, and what was Benjamin doing? He sat reading their works floating through the endless void of space. He had taken the history classes, studied The Exile, and still did not understand why he was one of the unlucky ones stuck on The Ark. Benjamin kept wishing he had two feet in the dirt of Earth.

"Attention," said the PA system. "This is your captain with a very special announcement for the entire population of The Ark. If you have not noticed, the trajectory screen in the Mess Hall has been off since we left Newton V four years, eight months, and seven days ago. Many of you have enquired about this decision, and the council has remained quiet about it. The reason is that we have come to a conclusion that we can no longer continue our mission to find a new planet. We have decided to return to planet Earth. What The Exile left in its wake is unknown, but it is possibly our only hope. We are going home. If there are any objections, we have transferred a schedule for a session to meet and ask questions to the council and Earth studies professionals about the planet and our plan. Thank you all for your cooperation. The countdown to Earth has begun. We will reach home in 10 years, three months, and two days. Happy 20,490th anniversary of The Ark. Good day all."

Earth. Benjamin was going home, to where he belonged.

Naturally the excitement shined through almost ever one of the over 678,000,000 that occupied The Ark. There also, of course, was questioning factions of the population. Many of the young people, like Benjamin thought of Earth as a new place to start over. The elders and those who had spent years onboard the space liner were not as susceptible to the idea of returning to a planet we were originally trying to escape.

Benjamin left his perch in the window and slipped into the hallway. Luckily, the Historical Center was only a few doors down. He clicked the button to open the door. He was glad to see that the receptionist, Markus, was gone. Benjamin sat the book of poetry down on the desk where Markus would later ponder how it got there and re-archive it. He could not wait for the day when he could freely read the historical documents without stealing them.

Benjamin exited back into the hallway, once again marveling at the beauty of the passing star.

"Hey, Benjamin!"

Benjamin jumped at the voice that came from his left.

"Dude," he said. "You scared the heck out of me."

"Sorry man," Markus replied. "What were doing in the Historical Center?"

"I-I was looking for you," Benjamin stammered. "Did you hear the announcement?"

"Of course," Markus responded. "You going to the session?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me," Benjamin said.

"Sure," he replied. "Let me log out of my station. I have to hit the Hab before we go."

Markus went into the Historical Center, logged out, and left with Benjamin. The exercise onboard came mostly from the daily walk from one end of the ship to the other. From the Historical Center to Hab 372 took about one and half miles. Each habitat, or Hab as they called it, contained one million people. A room held four beds with a small footlocker, a closet, and a bathroom with toilet, sink, and shower. Hab One to 339 were specified for family units. Habs 340 to 678 were split by genders for non-family singles. Markus, like Benjamin, lived in 372.