ALIEN STRIKE

Though the spacecraft had a crew, there were no astronauts. Instead the crew comprised four amateur youngsters. That’s the last thing you’d expect of the most important space mission ever, but Mr. Gonzalez, NASA’s administrator and our overseer, had a nasty old habit of working in mysterious and shady ways.

Being among the four crew members, I had the pleasure of meeting the other three upon boarding.

“So, what’s everyone’s story?” I asked through the rather coarse radio in our bright orange spacesuits. We were busy strapping into our seats in the narrow cockpit, which was a vibrant cage of state-of-the-art tech that wildly surpassed what I thought was possible. There were countless glowing buttons and glaring screens and blinking lights larded about the room, which were all far beyond my understanding, and the fancy patterns and designs that adorned the ship inside and out echoed the freshest flavors of modern style.

We sat huddled elbow to elbow, facing the front window overlooking the spaceport, two on my left and one on my right. The guy seated at my right answered:

“I’ll go first. My name is Dimitri Volkov. I’m from a Russian town called Vorkuta, which lies north of the Arctic Circle where it’s freezing all year. I’ve independently been studying aerospace engineering, which somehow caught the American government’s eye. At first I was skeptical when the agents from NASA approached me, but I took the bait pretty quickly.”

Dimitri spoke in a thick accent. He fared the eyes of a hunter and a sharp jaw, and his posture was drawn tight. He was the tallest in the group by a healthy margin. There was a fair amount of muscle on his body, but there wasn’t too much; rather his figure was sculpted just right. His voice was potent and exuded a bold confidence as if he were positive that our job would go swimmingly. He was probably the oldest of us.

All four of us were young adults, certainly an odd age range for a space mission. We weren’t trained as astronauts either, but the ship was entirely automated and, to our astonishment, could supposedly carry us to our destination with the press of a few buttons. No one ever suspected such advancements in space travel would come speeding over the horizon so soon.

“The bait? Was it the money that made you decide to do this?” asked the guy seated at the far left, who had a distinctly British accent.

Dimitri stalled before saying, “Well, yeah. My town’s financial standing is rapidly deteriorating. We don’t eat well, and the weather doesn’t help much. I’m here because I want to support my home.” Another pause. “I look forward to starting a new life,” he finished, a hopeful smile playing across his face. I wondered what he meant by starting a new life.

“I’m Hinata. Hinata Sasaki,” said the only girl in the crew, who sat at my left hand. “I’m from Japan.”

Beneath her big and bulky spacesuit she sported a slender frame, and any privilege of boasting about height eluded her. There was an air of modesty in her voice, yet she presented herself with some subtle note of vigor and let slip just a bit of authority too. That was a sweet balance any fellow of good taste could respect.

“My dad works for JAXA,” she said. “When he got his hands on the intel concerning this secret mission, especially that NASA wanted young adults for it, he pestered them till they let me in.”

“So you’re not here by choice?” I asked. “Your dad’s making you do this?”

“Oh, no, I definitely want to be here. My mom is in the hospital with leukemia, but we don’t have the money to help her. I’m doing this to pay for her treatment. She’s…” Hinata fell silent, possibly to choke back tears, but I couldn’t tell through her helmet. “…Running out of time, so this is my last resort.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, then for some encouragement, “You’ll save her soon…once this is all over.”

Hinata gave a wan, childlike nod. Dimitri sighed. Then the third person, the one with the British accent, spoke.

“My name’s Dutch Aldrich. I’m from England. I’m the winner of last year’s International Olympiad on Astronomy and Astrophysics. The agents from NASA visited me the other day and told me everything—said they could use someone like me. And since I’m an astronomy whiz by nature, I accepted their offer in a heartbeat.”

“What about the reward?” asked Hinata. “Aren’t you interested in the money?”

“Ah, sure, the money’s great. I won’t deny that. But I really just want to explore the universe. I’ve spent my whole life pining to see more of what’s out there, and I feel blessed to have this opportunity. Sometimes it feels too good to be true.”

As an Englishman, his English flowed smoothly. Actually, Hinata and Dimitri were strikingly fluent for nonnatives, but their accents were so sharp that it sounded like they’d learned English no more than a few days ago. I figured it was the work of the injections.

I gazed out the window as Dutch told his story. The windowpane was planted beyond the giant control panel, and it provided a breathtaking view of the Johnson Space Center from an awesome height. A broad beam of morning sunlight filtered in and brushed against our glass helmets.

“That reward…” said a tentative Hinata. “…It’s one million dollars divided among us, right?”

No one said anything for several seconds. Then Dutch’s voice was the first to break through.

“No.” With a slow and shaky voice, as if disturbed by such a huge number, he said, “One million dollars…each.”

Such was an opportunity that echoed every ripe dream: that someday a chance to strike gold would appear out of nowhere.

And so it was that we were a team of pilgrims wrapped in the throes of a gold rush. We four were just a lone group of pawns doing our part in the struggle for the good of tomorrow. Each of us bore the same duty, called here by the supposedly inerrant word of our most hallowed leaders.

There was a big catch to our deal. Our mission today was simply the first step in a much grander plan—a plan that could sway the fate of all creation. It was a plan to halt the destruction of the universe. Our failure could usher in the demise of all existence, and no amount of money could pay for that. The stakes were high and the pressure was on; if we failed, a million dollars would be meaningless because everyone—all life as we knew it—may soon lay dead.

Today, our one small step for man would be one giant leap for mankind. It seemed there was no way of telling what to expect of our futures—neither for ourselves nor the human race. What would become of us and where we would find ourselves were things only the passage of time would reveal. We could only hope that the road ahead wouldn’t skin us alive with its jagged stones.

After a fleeting moment of silence, the group looked over at me.

“So…?” Dimitri prompted me to speak. “What about you?”

What about me?

“Well…”