--B.T.L.: Before the Launch
--Dura-Chamber Archive Scan * 083222
"Damnit!"
Glass shards lay scattered across the tile floor. It was the second beaker Samuel had dropped in one day. And he knew why.
The cardstock on his workspace mocked him, as much as it called to him.
He had read the words several times over. Hell, he had traced the raised ink, disbelieving at the message:
THE INSTITUTE INVITES YOU ON A MISSION.
THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO CURE THE STORM.
7890-786
Samuel hadn't told anyone else yet, not even Rotsberg. She would only encourage him to go. And that's not what he needed. For a short while, he needed to hate himself.
I should've tried harder.
The last mission, Samuel had been part of the planning team. Their job was to find viable planets for two reasons:
1. Cure
2. An inhabitable planet in the absence of a cure
The team had charted two planets, same as the last team. And just like the last, they have been wrong. Sent an entire ship into oblivion, never to be seen or heard from again.
Samuel, paranoid and brilliant, had suggested a total of five planets for exploration. Everyone had laughed him off. Not enough time. Not enough resources.
When he had shared his full hypothesis about Sanctus, only Rotsberg had backed him up.
"The preliminary scans agree. This planet may have a cure. Why isn't this a no-brainer?" Samuel asked her.
Her silverware clinked as she set it on her plate. She leaned forward, looking entirely conspicuous. "I'm glad we're face-to-face, because I would not feel comfortable saying this over comms."
"Saying what?"
"There are rumors that the Institute may be intentionally lagging progress concerning the cure in order to cull the population."
Samuel started to smile, but it never reached his eyes. "You're not joking."
Rotsberg turned her wristlet over, allowing the pay feature on the table to scan it. "I wish I was."
She stood, intent on leaving the restaurant terrace.
"But that's what the Green-Eyed want."
"They're not so different from us."
Back at his lab, Samuel carefully gathered up the broken glass. There really weren't too many pieces. Five, actually.
Suddenly, he knew he would call. He would accept.
If he went on the mission, he could maybe convince the Institute to visit more than two planets.
YOU ARE READING
Piece Simul ✔
Science FictionRuss, a former janitor, is now second-in-command on a mission to find a cure for The Storm. The Storm eradicated those sixty and older. There might be a cure, but not on Earth. After each newly discovered planet, a team finds their minds and bodies...
