Mykenna Magnusen

251 in Space 

Mykenna Magnusen 

April 5, 2023 

“Hello!” welcomes the Dining Hall greeter. The first student of the day enters right before I do. Dressed in a dark gray space jumper, he grunts in acknowledgement. I watch as he waves past the hand-scanners and sets his stuff down at a nearby table. Recently, I have come to realize that not many are willing to wake up and be here when the doors open. Perhaps this is due to the lovely black void you see out the window when one wakes up in the morning. But what more could you expect? This is space after all.  

“Goodmorning!” the greeter calls out to me. I give the greeter a polite smile in response, gliding in bright-eyed and awake, fresh from the gym. Before I came to this school, I couldn’t quite understand why exercise was stressed so much in space. It’s so important, in fact, that they require us to take a PE class every semester. But since my time here, I quickly learned that floating around all day every day is not enough to maintain healthy muscles. Especially for when I go back to Earth and visit family.  

Using the built-in propulsion units woven into my suit, I float forward into the spacious hall to grab some food. Even with living in anti-gravity, it still takes me a moment to get accustomed to having food stations on the walls and ceilings. Remembering that my suit enables me to move in any direction, I head for the omelet station in the bottom right corner of the dining hall.  

The advanced technology of these suites makes them quite expensive, and most people can’t afford to buy more than five. The high costs put a cap on the freedom of fashion here, very different from the lives many people enjoy in America. Despite this, some students here are determined to make a statement. 

Take, for example, the interesting character I spot entering after me. Instead of wearing the traditional skin-tight leggings and tops, her chosen garment is loose and free flowing. The anti-gravity nature of space gives her an almost angelic look, as the folds of her skirt and loose hair move fluidly around her.  

My stomach growls and I turn my attention back to getting food. Grabbing a gravity plate and floating over to the omelet station, I hook my foot into a nearby handle to hold my place in line. To prevent the food from floating everywhere, the plates have an artificial gravity that keeps one’s food secure in a concise location. One must be careful when eating, because if your food is not securely held by your fork, it could be sent flying across the hall. 

I head over to the drink station and use a nozzle to get water. In terms of drinks, most students on campus prefer to use a water bottle that squirts into your mouth. Drinking in zero gravity is a bit difficult, but this setup keeps the process simple and clean. 

More people start to trickle their way into the dining hall. Something I’ve noticed since my time here is that as more people enter, the less they notice the greeter’s efforts to welcome them. I sympathize with the greeter. She wants to be a blessing to the people who pass and yet she mostly gets ignored. I bet it can be easy to feel dejected and unimportant after a day of being walked-past by hundreds of young adults. 

With the omelet and my filled water bottle in hand, I grab a seat on the far side of the dining hall. This side is marked off by the large window that overlooks the sports area. It is a popular place for watching the zero-gravity games, as it has both an abundance of food and good seats. Turning away from the window, I watch as people enter the dining hall. A large party bumbles in, happy to start the day with each other and bond over food. I find it interesting to see how they all act in a similar manner, and yet each one is distinctively unique and special. The group heads for a long table where they can all fit. Because there is seating on the ceiling, floor, and walls, it’s not difficult to find an open space. 

A young couple floats in behind them, holding hands only to be separated by the hand scanners. I wonder how long they will be together? The odds are that I’ll probably see them again in the upcoming weeks. We’ll find out then. They sit at a high-top table on the wall near the pizza station, talking and laughing about something funny. 

Checking my phone, I realize my first class starts in ten minutes and put my plate in the dish return bin. On my way out, I stop to say “hi” to the greeter. She smiles, happy to be seen. When I ask if she ever feels discouraged by her job, her response surprises me, “I’m always glad to be able to contribute to this campus community, even if my impact is small.  I always feel I’ve done my job well if I have gotten at least a couple people to smile.”