Satellite
(Sprache: Englisch)
A teenage boy born in space makes his first trip to Earth in this engrossing sci-fi adventure for fans of The Martian from award-winning author Nick Lake.
He's going to a place he's never been before: home.
Moon 2 is a space station that orbits...
He's going to a place he's never been before: home.
Moon 2 is a space station that orbits...
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Produktdetails
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Klappentext zu „Satellite “
A teenage boy born in space makes his first trip to Earth in this engrossing sci-fi adventure for fans of The Martian from award-winning author Nick Lake.He's going to a place he's never been before: home.
Moon 2 is a space station that orbits approximately 250 miles above Earth. It travels 17,500 miles an hour, making one full orbit every ninety minutes. It's also the only home that fifteen-year-old Leo and two other teens have ever known.
Born and raised on Moon 2, Leo and the twins, Orion and Libra, are finally old enough and strong enough to endure the dangerous trip to Earth. They've been "parented" by teams of astronauts since birth and have run countless drills to ready themselves for every conceivable difficulty they might face on the flight.
But has anything really prepared them for life on terra firma? Because while the planet may be home to billions of people, living there is more treacherous than Leo and his friends could ever have imagined, and their very survival will mean defying impossible odds.
Lese-Probe zu „Satellite “
1a wider space
the sun is rising for the 14th time today, firing the Saharan landmass like a match flame in darkness.
i am sitting in the cupola, watching the earth spin below me, desert rolling past the window of the Moon 2 space station, dunes like waves, sunlight flooding westward.
i don't move. soon, we're over the coast of Africa. sketches of towns. u don't c them so well in the daytime, which means that they almost extinguish before my eyes, the tracery of light blinking off as the wall of sun advances.
then sea.
it's always the sea.
people down there call their planet the earth, but it's mostly water. i know every fifth grader knows that. it's just, when u're in orbit, it's really obvious. sometimes Grandpa vidlinks me from down there & he asks me where we are & i don't even look out a porthole, i just say over the ocean & usually i'm right.
Grandpa says it's called the earth because of how farming shaped modern people, or something. he says we learned how to grow things 9,000 years ago & raise animals, & it tied us to the land, like tight. like love. he says when the soil is warm from the sun & u hold it in ur hands, let it run thru ur fingers, u feel a sensation like it's ur mother u're touching.
i wouldn't know. i was born up here.
& my mother is not the touching type.
soon i'll be there tho. that's why i'm in the cupola instead of in class. in a couple of months it's my 16th birthday, & Libra & Orion are already 16, which is the age they always said we would be strong enough. strong enough to go home. they call it home, even tho we've never been there.
in fact: i just had a medical & they think my weight is ok now. my bone density. so it looks like we will be going back on the next shuttle.
back: another strange word, for a place we've never been before.
click: "Leo?"
it's the intercom system. i push up, float over to the nearest terminal. "yes?"
"i've got a problem
... mehr
with the auto cargo docking parameters for the day after tomorrow. u want to help?"
it's Virginia. i've known Virginia all my life. she is 1 of 2 babysitters, we call them. there's vid footage of Virginia encouraging us to crawl, as babies, on the station's treadmill. strapped down, to simulate gravity. then to walk. sometimes we watch the vids in class, to remind us that we have had to learn everything that comes naturally to those on earth. but i can remember anyway, or at least i think i do: i remember the weights, the straps, the monotony of putting 1 foot in front of the other, again & again.
she's been here 3 months this time, but she rotates in every year for a couple of months. usually people don't visit for much longer than that. even my mother only comes for 1 month a year. they worry about bones. about eyes. about the body going soft in the wrong places. hard in the wrong places.
Virginia is here for that, in part--to test the limits. a human guinea pig. they take all kinds of data from her body, send it back to Nevada. every 24 hours she has to have an ultrasound of her heart. sometimes she lets me do it. she knows i'm interested in that kind of stuff. by that kind of stuff i mean: everything.
also we test her eyes every week, & when she gets back to Nevada, she's having a spinal tap for the second time, which she says is going to suck in more ways than 1. she's a scientist & a subject at the same time: long-term effects of 0 g.
i always say: they should really look at me & Libra & Orion if they want to study that.
oh don't worry, she says. they will.
"u in the command module?" i say to Virginia over the intercom.
"affirmative."
"u mean yes?" it annoys me when they speak like astronauts. i mean they are astronauts. but still.
"yes."
"ok, i'm coming."
i leave the cupola & torpedo thru the station. torpedo, verb: to move across different modules, floating, arms
it's Virginia. i've known Virginia all my life. she is 1 of 2 babysitters, we call them. there's vid footage of Virginia encouraging us to crawl, as babies, on the station's treadmill. strapped down, to simulate gravity. then to walk. sometimes we watch the vids in class, to remind us that we have had to learn everything that comes naturally to those on earth. but i can remember anyway, or at least i think i do: i remember the weights, the straps, the monotony of putting 1 foot in front of the other, again & again.
she's been here 3 months this time, but she rotates in every year for a couple of months. usually people don't visit for much longer than that. even my mother only comes for 1 month a year. they worry about bones. about eyes. about the body going soft in the wrong places. hard in the wrong places.
Virginia is here for that, in part--to test the limits. a human guinea pig. they take all kinds of data from her body, send it back to Nevada. every 24 hours she has to have an ultrasound of her heart. sometimes she lets me do it. she knows i'm interested in that kind of stuff. by that kind of stuff i mean: everything.
also we test her eyes every week, & when she gets back to Nevada, she's having a spinal tap for the second time, which she says is going to suck in more ways than 1. she's a scientist & a subject at the same time: long-term effects of 0 g.
i always say: they should really look at me & Libra & Orion if they want to study that.
oh don't worry, she says. they will.
"u in the command module?" i say to Virginia over the intercom.
"affirmative."
"u mean yes?" it annoys me when they speak like astronauts. i mean they are astronauts. but still.
"yes."
"ok, i'm coming."
i leave the cupola & torpedo thru the station. torpedo, verb: to move across different modules, floating, arms
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Nick Lake
Nick Lake is the Michael L. Printz Award winner for In Darkness and has written several other novels for teens. Nick works in publishing in the UK and lives near Oxford with his wife and family. Follow him at @nicklakeauthor.
Produktdetails
- Autor: Nick Lake
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 12 Jahre
- 2017, 464 Seiten, Maße: 13,6 x 20,8 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Knopf Books for Young Readers
- ISBN-10: 1524770760
- ISBN-13: 9781524770761
- Erscheinungsdatum: 22.09.2017
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"Bursts with wonder and love." -Kirkus Reviews, starred review
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