Dr. Naesley.

Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it, everyone you love,

everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was.

The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of religions, ideologies and economic doctrines,

every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization,

every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child,

inventor and explore, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar,

every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there on a

moat of dust suspended in a sunbeam. These words were spoken by the great Carl Sagan.

After they firmly strapped us in, I took a moment to relax and enjoy the final minute

of Earth's gravity before takeoff. The rookie in the seat next to me looked tense with pearls of

sweat covering his pale face. He seemed so excited only moments before, but I couldn't blame him.

The little blue planet had been his home, and now he'd leave it, never to return again.

First time in space, right? I chuckled, trying to keep the mood light. He nodded. His eyes still fixed

to the control panel in front of us. I'd like to tell you that the acceleration would knock you

clean out, but that ain't the case. Lying in that position, blood is basically forced into your

brain. You'll be awake to feel each bump on the road, I said cheerfully. That little tidbit of

information seemed to break his trance. He looked over at me and cracked a weak smile. I could have

given him words of comfort, but told him it wasn't that bad. But from experience, I knew that

facetious humor would best aid our journey into space. I'm not worried about the takeoff, he said.

It's just the magnitude of it all, you know? The countdown sequence started, and I braced myself,

while the rookie desperately tried to control his breath. 10, 9, 8. Time to say goodbye, kid. I yelled at him.

...