“Happy birthday.” 

Patrick shifted on the metal seat. The thought of Jack leaving him so soon made his throat cease up. HIS Jack with his short red hair, pale freckled skin, and one of the highest IQs in the population. The room began to blur as tears fought their way into Patrick’s eyes. Why did it have to be fifteen years old? Why not thirty? Why did it have to be his son?

“I know, dad,” Jack said excitedly.  “If you don’t mind, my friends asked if I could hang out with them during the announcement.” 

Jack didn’t understand what freedom really was, he just knew the best of the best got sent there. The ceremony changed sector every week and this week it was in sector four. His sector.

“That means this could be the last time that I see you,” Patrick croaked. 

He always knew this day would come, but then it seemed like a boat that would never set sail. Tears flowed down Patrick’s forty-five-year-old cheeks and onto the metal floor of their three-room living quarters. A green light flashing on his wrist band made him stop crying. 

“Jack they’re calling me back to work,” Patrick sniffled. “Come give me a hug.”

    Jack met his dad with the hug and embraced him with all his arms could hold. He might have even shed a tear, but quickly wiped it away so dad wouldn’t know. His dad kissed him hard on top of his head and laughed, one of the sad laughs given when you know you could be overreacting. 

“Alright then.” Patrick said as he let his arms drop off his only son. “You can hang out with your friends. I have cleaning to do.” 

He ruffled Jack’s hair, wiped his eyes, and nodded. Patrick opened the metal door out of their quarters and into the hallway, letting it shut behind him.

Stopping by his janitorial closet and picking up his bucket, sponges, and towel, Patrick headed off to sector five. He was a cleaner. But Patrick’s job was different than all the other cleaners. He still had to clean the normal things such as bathrooms, living quarters, and public places, but once a week the green light would flash on his wristband signaling to clean a certain room. Speak to no one of this. Patrick remembers the officer telling him as he implanted the key chip in Patrick's hand, and he never did. Not even to Jack.

The light on the door censor turned green as it recognized the chip in Patrick’s hand. The smell of the room ran into Patrick’s nostrils and surrounded him, making him gag as he closed the door behind him. Why? What happened in this room every week? He scanned the room, the mess was the exact same as it always is. In the square room there’s a table and a single chair, and ash and gunk everywhere. It coated the tiled walls and ceiling in black goop and smelled of something burnt. The wretched smell only existed in this room, no where else had Patrick smelt something so terrible. He got to work.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The deep voice echoed in the massive, stadium-like room. “Welcome to our 200th freedom send off!” 

The crowd clapped politely. Sitting in the third row with his friends Jack squirmed in his seat. On stage stood a large rocket, and Captain Ten, the announcer, organizer, and head of the freedom ceremony and government. He was a broad man and his bald head reflected the lights from above. 

“We all need to work so I will make this fast. Freedom, our heaven away from home up in the sky. Only the best of the best get sent, and oh boy do we have a good one this week. From sector four this person has excelled in their courses so well that we are going to send them off at an unusually young age.” 

Jack’s ears grew hot as a bead of sweat ran down his back. 

“We send strong people with the most extensive knowledge of dark matter, since dark matter is the key to the future and we’re going to master it!” 

Applause.

Dark matter has been the only subject taught in school since Captain Ten came into office. Those who questioned it disappeared. Sitting in row fifty Patrick relaxed his aching back and hands hoping Captain Ten was talking about anyone other than his Jack.

“Now without further ado, I give you JACK REGAL!” 

Applause and a few gasps from the crowd as red-faced Jack hiked onto the stage with shaking legs. Jack shook the Captain’s hand and smiled for the crowd. 

Jack, with his red hair and boyish looks paused at the doorway to the rocket. He could feel the teary eyes of dad on his back. For a split second he almost turned his shaking body towards the exit and ran, but he knew he would eventually be caught and sent to freedom despite his struggle. Knowing somewhere in this stadium his dad was watching him, Jack made one last glance over his shoulder towards his friends and nodded to himself. He’s been granted freedom after all, what more could he want? Jack stepped inside as the door shut behind him and the crowd watched the rocket take off into the starry sky above.

“Alright. Now return to work.”

* * * * *

Cleaning had never felt so empty. Patrick switched the vacuum off and peered into the empty library around him. Everyone was at work or school. The sound of silence pierced his ears as he walked around the small room. Only books on dark matter. He picked one up off the shelf and flipped through it. Something about how to change an object's state of matter. Putting the book back he pulled a photo of Jack out of his pocket and welcomed the tears once more.

* * * * *

Back in the empty stadium a spaceship landed on the empty rocket platform. A wrinkled figure stumbled onto the stage.

“Hello?” The man cried out weakly, just before he was grabbed from behind, blindfolded, and dragged. Left. Right. Right again. He heard a door swing open. The blindfold was yanked off and he squinted into the bright lights and the face of Captain Ten standing behind a table with two buttons on it.

“Begin recording,” Ten said. An officer behind him pressed the green button. 

“State your name and business.”

“You’re not even going to ask how the trip was?” the old man rasped. He ran a shaking hand through his wispy white hair.

“State your name and business,” Captain Ten said coldly.

“Jack Regal,” the man sighed.

“How long were you in freedom?”

“Seventy-five years.” Jack said quietly. All those years wasted.

“And that makes you how old?” the Captain asked the questions rotely without emotion.

“Ninety. Black holes have the ability to curve time. If only I had known going in.”

“State the mission and results.”

“The mission was to study dark matter in the black hole known inappropriately as freedom until I found a way to fix humanity’s situation.”

“And did you find a solution?”

“I did the math a thousand times. There is no way to stop the sun from burning out.”

“So why did you return?” The captain, agitated, was no longer asking questions for fun.

“I was not going to die in space,” Jack coughed. “But I did find a way we could have fixed it.”

“What do you mean, ‘could have'?”

“Billions of years ago. It would’ve had to have been around the year 2019. At the latest. Had we banded together while the population was still large and ended climate change we would have stopped it.”

“Climate change?” Captain Ten asked.

“It’s what caused this disaster.” Jack motioned to the room around him.

“So you are of no use here.”

 “Technically. But if we can find a way to turn back time then I can help.”

“You’ve heard of those experiments! What happened! It’s impossible, a billion years of research and nothing! NOTHING! We can’t turn back time.”

“Then the sun will burn out. And humans’ chapter in the book of life will finally be complete.”

    “Jack Regal. Turn in your mission log.” 

Captain Ten straightened. Jack produced a small yet thick journal containing ninety years of black hole research.

“I think you’ll find a few things of use in there,” Jack stated blandly.  “It’s only my life work after all. Now if you excuse me-” 

Jack began to work his frail body out of the chair but the officers that were in the room with them seized him and held him down. 

“What’s this?!” Captain Ten produced a fake smile.

“A thank you for returning and wasting our time.” Ten pressed the red button on the table.

* * * * *

    Sitting in one of the library’s metal chairs Patrick’s tears are interrupted by a flashing green light. It’s time for him to clean the room.