Original subtitles

25 years ago, America launched Overture, a generation shift to a nearby star.

Today, Overture is the set of the first reality show shot in space.

Through confessionals, we'll learn the crew's love, fears, and most secret

dreams. Welcome to Personal Space.

I've only gotten one letter from one of my sisters, and I don't even know what

I'd say in reply.

Maybe some fun story about how the first shift somehow used two -thirds of the

shift's talcum powder.

I feel disconnected.

What was that? Did you see that, Amy?

It was a cosmic ray.

Cosmic rays can damage electronics.

They can corrupt data.

They can throw off flight systems, which is dangerous when you're in space.

King says we could have died.

Most cosmic rays are no big deal. You get used to it.

But you told the crew otherwise?

Got to see how they react in a crisis.

I prepared myself for death when I was a child.

Good thing, too. Look at this ship.

1 ,193 years left and she's already falling apart.

I'd take space any day over the risks on Earth, though.

Heart disease, one in six.

Cancer, one in seven.

Accidental poisoning?

And that is why I don't own a bicycle.

On the plus side, in space, your odds of being struck by lightning or attacked

by a shark are considerably reduced.

Wouldn't those odds be zero?

That's how sharks catch, Amy.

You let your guard down.

I wonder what Gale was doing.

No idea what she was.

King? He fixed it. Just went in and bam.

Fema?

Blasters running around like a pig with a firecracker attached.

For even hope.

You give him a problem, he fixes it.

I can fix sprinkler heads, door panels.

I can even fix

flight systems.

But if our computers go offline, there's no Coast Guard.

There's no Houston.

We're all on our own.

Yeah, King took care of it.

And I'm grateful.

But he should be training us to do it ourselves. He's not going to be around

the next one.

And he still hasn't addressed this lieutenant commander business.

I thought we were doing okay.

Deborah caught the air.

Gail should have.

She's an astronomer for crying out loud.

As soon as I told King about it, he recognized the hallmark of a cosmic ray.

On our ship, my crew devised a way to manually flash the CMOS and get the

computers to reset after a ray.

Resourceful. That's what it takes to survive out here.

He's hinting he wants to stay awake even longer in case there's a second ray,

but I snuck a look at his code, and it's the most roundabout piece of

programming I've ever seen.

Oh, hey, you want to make a thousand calls to extend a memory?

Go ahead.

I'm relieved we have a dependable means of dealing with this problem.

King's starting to get to the crew members, scaring them to show them we

succeed without him.

So I decided to find out what he does all day, which isn't a lot.

He wanders around long -term storage while we're researching or doing our

duties. Yeah, crew is losing confidence in her, so I have to make sure she's

prepared. He keeps implying we need his help, but he's not teaching us.

Something's not adding up.

It's fine if he wants to take a constitutional now and then, but to

accident to make himself seem essential?

I don't like it.

Cosmic rays can fry your nervous system. They led to early Alzheimer's in some

of the first astronauts, and they were only in space for a couple of weeks.

But we're shielded against all but the worst rays.

I told the crew, no need to worry unless you're seeing random flashes of light.

What the hell was that?