I wake up to the soft sound of simulated birdsong and the sunrise reproduced by a strip of LEDs that gradually illuminates the capsule. The artificial gravity, generated by the slow rotation of the living ring, allows me to stretch out in my usual comfort, as if I were at home in Viseu. The mattress adapts to the position of my body and monitors my sleep. I slept for seven hours and fifty minutes. Not bad.
Breakfast is simple but healthy: apple and lettuce from the Q1 greenhouse module, with a rehydrated egg. The “new eggs,” produced by modified microorganisms in the Q3 module factory, are quite good. The bread, denser to avoid loose crumbs, is made with natural fermentation and baked in an infrared oven mounted on the outside of the station, but with internal access. It contains protein flour from crickets from the Q2 module—and it smells just like warm bread! Coffee is still a luxury imported from Earth. Much more expensive. But no one gives up the ritual.
Earth can be seen from the window: a blue and white marble that brings nostalgia. From the opposite window, I see the Moon. A coincidence that only occurs once a week in this eccentric orbit. At the perilunar point, we are closer to the surface — and you can see so many craters!
I walk down the curved corridor to the environmental command post in module A. I manually check CO₂, humidity, and temperature. The greenhouse in Q1 and the tanks in module O are the living heart of the station. Without them, none of this would be possible. Water is recycled in a closed circuit. Nothing is lost, everything is transformed, as Lavoisier would say. In other words, yesterday’s sweat is tomorrow’s coffee water.
Today, as almost every day, I spend three hours doing maintenance of the vital systems in module O. The spirulina and chlorella tanks, which purify the air and generate nutrients, need supervision. There was biofilm buildup in reactor 2B. The robot cleans it, but I like to see it with my own eyes.
In the afternoon, I work out in the spinning gym with adjustable weights — simulated gravity at 0.8G. The body here needs to be cultivated with the same attention as the vegetables.
In the evening, I talk to my family. The 1.3-second delay no longer bothers me. We play holographically — a strategy board with pieces that move in the air. I win. Finally.
Before going to sleep, I read a chapter of my book — rewritable digital paper, a recent invention that has replaced screens for those who, like me, still enjoy turning a page.
I program the system to simulate nighttime. In the distance, I hear the hum of fans, modified to sound like cicadas. The sound of survival — and of the countryside. And I fall asleep thinking: tomorrow, the adventure begins again.
Pedro Lacerda, Instituto Pedro Nunes
