The Habitat Project

“Jack, you up?” It was his father’s voice, changed slightly by the poor connection.

“Yeah, why?” Jack asked, his voice still sounding foggy from a good night’s rest. He stretched his arms and rolled out of bed, feeling the cool metal floor under his feet. The artificial hum of the space station greeted him like an old friend.

“Your mother and I wanted to show you something special on your last day before you leave,” his father said, his tone upbeat and excited.

Jack paused, blinking. Something special? It wasn’t often that his father, with his usual serious demeanor, sounded this excited.

“Sure, I’ll be down in 20,” Jack replied.

He grabbed his slick, black spacesuit, the one reserved for special occasions, and slipped it on. The fabric was smooth, clinging comfortably to his body as if designed specifically for him—which it was. Every citizen of Skylab had custom-made suits, calibrated for the exact conditions of space travel, the closest thing to armor in the void. He had always liked how the black suit made him look—sleek, powerful, like a pilot from the old Earth movies his parents sometimes showed him.

As Jack stepped into the elevator, his reflection caught in the metal door, he realized how real it was. Tomorrow, he’d be gone. Off to the Habitat program, leaving behind the only home he’d ever known. Skylab 1 wasn’t much, but it was all he had ever known. The gray walls, the hum of the machinery, the rigid routines—they had been his life for seventeen years.

As the elevator descended, he glanced out the window at the black, speckled abyss of space. He could never get used to it—the infinite void that stretched out in every direction. When he was younger, he would squint, trying with all his might to see an edge, a boundary, something tangible. But the universe always felt just a little too vast, always just beyond his reach.

That sense of endlessness both terrified and fascinated him. The dark gave him a strange sense of comfort, though—consistent, predictable, like the heartbeat of Skylab 1 itself. A reminder that, no matter how far he traveled, the stars were always the same.

When the doors slid open, Jack stepped out into the canteen and immediately spotted his parents. His mother was the first to notice him, rushing toward him with open arms.

“Oh, Jack! It’s so good to see you,” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace. Her voice was warm, but there was something beneath the excitement—something Jack couldn’t quite place. Was it sadness? Or maybe worry?

“Mom,” Jack chuckled, hugging her back before gently pulling away. “I saw you yesterday.”

She smiled up at him, but her eyes were glassy, like she was holding back a flood of emotions. “I know, I know. But today is special. You’ll see.”

His father, standing a few feet away, gave him a nod and gestured toward the observation deck. “Come on, Jack. We don’t have much time.”

The three of them made their way down the narrow corridor that led to the observation deck. Jack’s heart picked up speed. He knew what this was about. Skylab 1 was passing Earth today. His parents had told him yesterday, and even though it was something he had seen only a few times in his life, the thought of it always filled him with a strange mix of awe and dread.

The doors to the observation deck slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the wide, curved window that stretched across the entire wall. The room was dim, the lights turned down low so the view of space could be seen more clearly. And there it was—Earth.

Jack stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. He had seen images of the planet before—old pictures, videos from before the war. But nothing compared to seeing it with his own eyes. Even though the surface was now a dead, barren wasteland, there was something mesmerizing about it. The swirling clouds, the deep blues and greens that still clung to the oceans and forests, or what was left of them. From up here, it still looked alive. But Jack knew better.

“What do you think?” his father asked, stepping up beside him.

“It’s…” Jack struggled to find the right words. “It’s incredible. But also sad, I guess.”

His father nodded, crossing his arms as he stared at the planet below. “It is sad. To think, that used to be home for billions of people.”

“Do you think…” Jack hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to ask. “Do you think we’ll ever go back?”

His mother, standing on his other side, looked over at him with a soft smile. “That’s what we’re working toward, Jack. Maybe not in our lifetime, but someday.”

Someday. The word hung in the air like a promise that Jack wasn’t sure he believed.

As he stared at the planet below, something stirred in him. An unease, a sense that something wasn’t right. Why did they keep talking about Earth like it was something they would eventually return to? From everything Jack had heard, the planet was beyond saving. The radiation levels were too high, the ecosystems destroyed. What was left to rebuild?

“Jack.” His father’s voice broke through his thoughts. “There’s something else.”

Jack turned, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

His parents exchanged a look—one of those unspoken conversations that Jack had noticed them having more and more lately.

“We’ve been meaning to tell you for a while,” his mother said, her voice quiet. “About the Habitat program.”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat. “What about it?”

His father sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. “The program isn’t exactly what they say it is.”

Jack’s mind raced. He had suspected something was off, but hearing his father admit it out loud made it feel real. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with it?”

“We can’t tell you everything,” his mother said, glancing nervously at the cameras mounted in the corners of the room. “Not here. But… there are things about the program you need to be careful about. People aren’t who they seem. You’ll have to trust your instincts.”

Jack’s stomach churned. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. “We wanted to, but… it wasn’t safe. Not for you, not for us. You’ll understand more when you get there. Just remember—stay alert. And don’t trust everything you’re told.”

Jack’s mind was reeling. He had always known his parents were involved in some high-level research, but this… this felt different. More dangerous.

He turned back to the window, staring down at Earth. The planet looked so peaceful from up here, but Jack knew it was an illusion. Just like everything else.

Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away from Earth, even as his mind raced with the revelation his parents had just shared. His pulse quickened, but he tried to keep his face neutral, knowing the cameras were always watching, always recording. Was there anywhere on Skylab 1 where he could actually be alone?

“What do you mean, I can’t trust everything I’m told?” Jack asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “Isn’t the Habitat program supposed to be… about our future? Preparing us for what comes next?”

His mother’s hand found his arm, a soft touch meant to comfort him, but Jack could feel the tremor in her grip. “Yes, that’s what they say, but the truth… the truth is buried so deep. So many layers of lies. You have to see it for yourself.”

“We’re telling you this because we trust you,” his father added, his voice low and grave. “You’re smart, Jack. You always have been. Just… don’t let them mold you into something you’re not.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond, to ask a hundred questions swirling in his head, but the quiet hiss of the door opening cut him off. He quickly turned, catching sight of two figures in the hallway.

It was an officer, along with Dr. Mueller the director of Skylab. Dr. Mueller had a broad, forced smile on her face, the kind that always made Jack feel uneasy. The officer beside her wore the black uniform of the station’s security detail, his expression impassive as his eyes swept over the room.

“Ah, Jack!” Dr. Mueller said, her voice overly enthusiastic. “Just the young man I was looking for. Mind if I borrow you for a few minutes? We need to finalize some details for your departure tomorrow.”

Jack’s parents exchanged another quick glance, their concern barely hidden. Jack knew in an instant that this wasn’t a request. It never was with people like Mueller. The Habitat program had already claimed Jack as their own, long before he’d even set foot in their facility.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Jack said to his parents, forcing a smile as he stepped forward. His father’s hand lingered on his shoulder for just a second longer before he let go.

“Of course,” his mother added, her eyes pleading with him to be careful. “We’ll be here when you’re done.”

Jack followed Dr. Mueller and the officer out of the observation deck, his heart pounding in his chest. He kept his gaze forward, trying to mask the confusion and anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. Behind him, the door slid shut with a soft hiss, cutting off his parents, leaving him alone with the man who represented everything he had come to distrust.

“So, Jack,” Dr. Mueller began, her voice calm but with an edge that made Jack uneasy. “I trust you’re excited about your new role in the Habitat program. Quite the honor to be selected, you know.”

Jack nodded, his jaw tight. “Yeah, it’s a big opportunity.”

“Indeed it is,” Mueller said, glancing sideways at Jack. “But with opportunity comes responsibility. We’ll be relying on you and the others to carry forward the work we’ve been doing up here. It’s about the survival of humanity, after all. A heavy burden, but you’re up to it. I know you are.”

There was something about the way Dr. Mueller said the words “survival of humanity” that made Jack’s skin crawl. He had heard it all before, of course—the speeches, the promises. But the weight behind those words, the way they lingered in the air, felt different now. There was more to it. There had to be.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, the officer behind them always a step too close for Jack’s liking. The hallways of Skylab 1, once comforting in their familiarity, now felt cold and sterile. His thoughts churned, fragments of conversations between his parents, words that had never quite made sense to him until now. Why had they waited so long to warn him? What exactly did they know?

As they approached a set of reinforced doors at the far end of the corridor, Dr. Mueller slowed her pace and turned to Jack, his expression more serious now.

“You’ve lived your whole life on Skylab 1,” Dr. Mueller said softly. “But the world is changing. Earth may be a dead rock, but it’s still at the center of everything we do. The Habitat program will teach you to look beyond what you think you know. There’s much more at stake here than just science or survival.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, trying to decode the cryptic words. “What do you mean?”

Dr. Mueller ’ smile returned, thin and calculated. “All in due time, Jack. You’ll learn soon enough.”

The doors slid open with a mechanical whir, revealing a room Jack had never seen before. It was vast, far larger than any of the training rooms he had been in before. Rows of strange equipment lined the walls, monitors flickering with unreadable data. Several figures in white lab coats were moving around the room, their faces obscured by masks.

Jack felt a chill run down his spine.

“This,” Dr. Mueller said, motioning to the room, “is where the future begins. You’re about to become part of something… greater.”

Jack’s mind was spinning, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “What exactly is this place?”

Dr. Mueller gave him a sideways glance, as if he were appraising Jack’s reaction. “This is just the first step. You’ll get a full briefing once you arrive at the Habitat. For now, consider this… an introduction.”

An introduction to what? Jack wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. He could feel the weight of the officer’s gaze on him, as if daring him to question further. Jack clenched his fists at his sides, forcing himself to stay calm. Whatever this was, he knew now that his parents were right. There was more going on than anyone had let on.

Then everything went black.