Astrid the Astronaut's Arc

Chapter 8 of 8

The dome's opening night was three days away when Astrid decided to send invitations to every space agency in the country. She wanted professionals to see what she'd built—people who understood what space actually looked like, who could verify that her new vision still held truth. The Canadian Space Agency responded first. The crowd filled every seat by seven o'clock. Astrid stood near the entrance, watching families settle into rows beneath the banner she'd hung that morning. Children pointed at the curved ceiling, excited voices echoing off the walls. Then she saw the woman in the front row—crisp blazer, an elegant notebook open in her lap, pen moving steadily across the page. The small badge on her collar read CSA. Astrid's chest tightened. She didn't know why someone from the agency was documenting everything. The lights dimmed. The dome came alive with stars, then forests, then oceans bleeding into the darkness above. A child gasped. The woman kept writing. Astrid watched her pen move—quick, certain strokes—and felt her carefully built confidence begin to crack. Was this wrong? Had she strayed too far from what space actually was? She'd spent years in orbit staring at pure black, at Earth small enough to cover with her thumb. Now she was showing people trees and whales alongside distant galaxies. The woman turned a page and kept writing. After the show ended, Astrid waited by the door as guests filed out. The woman approached last, notebook tucked under her arm. "I'm building a training facility," she said. "We need something that helps astronauts remember why Earth matters before they leave it." She held out a business card. "Would you consult?" Astrid took the card, her hands steady. The agency wasn't here to correct her. They were here because she'd finally gotten it right—that understanding how small you are only matters if you also understand what you belong to. She looked past the woman at the dome, where Echo was adjusting a projector, and felt something settle. This wasn't about choosing between space's vastness and Earth's intimacy. It was about holding both at once.