Sarah's Perspective
As we were about to return to the ship's central area, Miles pointed out that along with the route instructions on the display were instructions on personnel for a meeting. Mr. Torres clumsily floated over to him. Miles pushed himself out of the way and floated wildly, grasping for the railing desperately. Mr. Torres held himself in place and studied the list briefly before extending his wrist controller to Miles to activate the ship-wide.
Once the communication was activated, Mr. Torres called for everyone's attention. He announced the list of specialists that would be needed for the first interview, per request from the aliens. After Mr. Torres finished the list, he asked each team lead to handle the selection process for their respective teams.
Then Mr. Torres and I left the cockpit area, discussing that we should still both go because we are both from the United States. If more than 1 of the other diplomats wants to go, I should step down and let more parts of the planet be represented at the first negotiations.
However, as we floated into our section of the main cabin, we found the rest of our diplomatic team members in a heated debate about who should go for the first interview. I could see the exhaustion on their faces, a sign that they had been discussing this the whole time we were coming down.
For a second, I was crestfallen since I assumed they all wanted to go, and I was left out. Listening to their conversation, I quickly realized the opposite was true. None of them wanted to go, and they were debating on why each of them should stay.
Without hesitation, Mr. Torres and I volunteered to attend the meeting. As team lead, Mr. Torres interjected, reminding everyone that there needed to be representatives from two different regions. After a few more moments of discussion, the other three diplomats reluctantly decided to draw straws to determine who would go. The tension in our section of the cabin was palpable as they each selected a straw. In the end, the EU representative drew the shortest one, and it was decided that he would join Mr. Torres and me for the interview.
Eventually, Miles floated back, his nose buried in his tablet. He was starting to be more sure of his movements. He landed not far from his seat, looked around, and came closer to me, still staring at his screen.
I couldn't help but ask him, "Hey, Miles, what are you working on?"
He looked up from his screen and groaned, "Calculations for the trajectory. The approach is similar to the original one, but we must adjust burn times to ensure we have enough fuel to take off again and land back on Earth. I could ask Houston to run this if we had access to the communications. But now I need to check the math." He sighed deeply, looking at the monitor above displaying a picture of a shrinking earth. "I wish Issac was here. He could do this stuff in his sleep."
I felt a pang of pain and sadness at the mention of Issac. The crisis distracted me from missing my family for the last hour. That built-up hour of held-back emotions came crashing in all at once. "Yeah, he is always great with numbers."
Miles nodded in agreement, "Yeah, and not just numbers; things just aren't the same without him..." he went quiet and lowered his gaze, filled with abject horror and shame to look at my tear-filled eyes. He whispered, "I'm so sorry."
I opened my faceplate with a bit of a swoosh and wiped my tears away. Every fiber of my soul wanted to be back home. Pushing down those feelings, I tried to find another topic to change, too.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. "Do you know who's going for the engineering team?" I asked Miles.
Miles shook his head. With a tight-lipped smile, his eyes drifted back on to the tablet. "No. I for sure don't want to go. They're drawing lots to see who goes," he replied.
