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.
I looked at him with determination. "Well, I'm going," I declared firmly, sounding far braver and less broken than I felt.
Miles looked up from his tablet, his expression filled with concern and fear. His forehead got covered with sweat once again. "Wait a second, Sarah," he said, reaching for his wrist controller.
I watched as he typed something quickly into the device, his fingers moving rapidly across the screen. He looked up at me with a serious expression. "I'm going too," he said firmly.
I was surprised by his sudden change of heart. "Are you sure?" I asked him.
Miles nodded, his eyes fixed on mine. "Yeah, I'm sure. I don't want you to go alone," he said, his voice trembling but filled with determination. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go change into the lighter suit since we are now in cruising mode."
The next few hours were a flurry of movement and activity. One by one, everyone changed into and adjusted to the lighter suits. It was amazing how much easier it was to move in them. It was liberating.
As the day went on, the diplomatic team began to form a plan for our approach to the aliens. It was clear that they were technologically superior to us, so we had to tread carefully. We discussed possible strategies and tactics, trying to find the best approach. By the end of the day, the 3 of us attending the meeting felt confident in our preparations.
By the time evening came around, I was exhausted. Evening, meaning a clock in the corner of the monitors and my own feeling since everything was lit constantly to comfortable levels. My mind involuntarily was flooded with memories of a trip with Issac to a northern country in the height of summer where the sun never sat for the whole trip.
I stumbled my way through the weightless environment, trying to find my way to my bunk. It was little more than a sleeping bag strung up to anchor points at the top and bottom of the compartment, designed to keep it from floating away. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world but better than sleeping in full light.
As I settled into my bunk, zipped up the opening, and was engulfed in darkness, instantly dropping my energy levels to nothing. I felt my body relax for the first time all day. But because of the weightlessness, it was hard to fall asleep.
I woke up groggy and disoriented, floating in the dark. Then, a soft beeping and gradual light reminded me where I was. A deep bang of homesickness shook my body, and I covered my mouth to not sob. It took a few minutes to compose myself. As soon as I regained my bearings, I went to the common area.
It turned out that the day was filled with preparations for the first meeting with the aliens. Since the diplomatic team finished yesterday, I spent most of my day floating around, helping wherever possible.
As the day wore on, it became clear that the military team was the only one with more than enough volunteers to participate in the first interview. Most teams had to pull straws or draw lots to see who would go. The military guys drew lots on who was going to stay.
The next few days were a stark contrast to the flurry of activity from the first 2 days of the trip. We were left with nothing to do but wait. It was a slow, monotonous crawl at a few thousand miles an hour, and the boredom was crushing. There were no communications back to Earth, no updates, and no new tasks to be assigned. The only activity was the occasional idle conversation with my crewmates.
I found myself drifting off into my own thoughts more and more. I thought about my family back on Earth and how much I missed them. It was tough being so far away from them, and the lack of communication was only making it worse. I tried to keep myself occupied by reading and playing chess with Miles, but nothing seemed to lift my spirits.
And he beat me 25 games to 0 in under an hour.
The boredom was instantly evaporated as the captain's voice boomed through the speakers and radios simultaneously, announcing our approach to the moon's gravity well. Everyone quickly made my way to my seat and strapped myself in. I watched intently as the monitors above my head displayed our ship's trajectory and a live feed of the moon as we approached it.
I gazed at the monitor in awe. The moon loomed before us, its surface rugged and pitted, almost like a giant sponge. The craters and ridges on its surface cast deep shadows in the sun's light. It was a mesmerizing sight, and I couldn't help but feel small and insignificant compared to the vastness of the universe. This was crazier and more detailed than any planetarium Issac dragged me to when we were dating.
As we got closer, the details became more apparent. I could see the jagged edges of the craters and the mountain ranges in the distance. The moon's surface was almost grayish-white, and the colors shifted slightly as the sun's angle changed.
Then, the ship started to adjust for the turn, and we were plunged into darkness for a moment. As the cameras adapted to the sudden blocking of the sun by the moon's edge, a new astounding site greeted us on the monitor, dragging a shocked gasp from everyone.
My jaw dropped in shock. A giant, otherworldly craft loomed before us, rising more than 60 miles above the moon's surface. It was massive, covering the majority of the visual surface of the moon as our "ship" drifted past it.
The alien craft was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It had a smooth, metallic surface and a strange, almost organic shape. There were no visible seams or joints in some areas and giant hinges and tubes in others. In many places, the surface seemed to ripple and shift in a way that defied explanation. The visual on the screen was astounding but only able to capture a fraction of the ship at a time as we drifted past.
We continued to make adjustments to prepare for our descent in the designated spot. I still didn't see where that spot was, but I trusted Miles's calculations. We slowed down with the main rocket thrusters and quickly descended to the moon's surface.
To our collective astonishment, the landing spot was a pad made of the same material as the main alien ship waiting for us at the coordinates where we were supposed to land. The pad was enormous, easily the size of several football fields, well larger than we needed for our ship. The surface was perfectly smooth like it was polished marble.
The captain announced, "Looks like we have the red carpet rolled out for us. Please stand by and hang on to something. The final deceleration isn't pleasant. Though the carpet might make it easier. Helmets on, air purged, please."
I quickly checked my wrist controller, for the 20th time, that my suit was fully functional and the air was good. It still was. Tugging on my seat straps, I took a deep breath and managed to catch the full final burn on an exhale, squeezing the air out of my lungs extra hard, vibrating and roaring as hard as the original takeoff.
The ship touched down on the pad with a soft thud. The captain announced that we were down and beginning to run diagnostics and check the various systems to ensure everything was functioning correctly. My job was to sit and wait for further instructions.
---
Miles's Perspective
The fantastic view of the alien craft drove all fear and anxiety from my being, replacing it with a feeling of burning curiosity and hunger for discovery.
I couldn't take my eyes off the monitor that displayed the giant alien craft looming above the moon's surface. Its massive size and bizarre design fascinated me, and I was consumed by the desire to learn everything about it. The craft's surface was covered in intricate patterns, and I was eager to understand its functions and composition.
My brain heard the captain's voice saying something through a distance undefined by physics. It wasn't until he said the words "Helmets on" that my brain reacted and grabbed a firm grip on reality. The urgency in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I immediately realized the gravity of the situation. My heart began to race, and my hands shook as I fumbled to shut my faceplate, all the anxiety and fear slamming back into my body, making my hands tremble and fumble.
As I locked my helmet in place, I quickly checked my oxygen levels and flow. Everything seemed to be functioning correctly.
When the rockets kicked into full burn for final deceleration, I began my mantra, "Rockets were built by smart people." Over and over again.
Finally, the ship touched the landing pad with a soft thud. The captain announced that we had landed safely, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
My heart skipped a beat and into my mouth as a loud clank rang through the ship, so intense that I could feel it vibrating in my chest. Grabbing onto the safety straps, I stared at the monitors above me. To my surprise, the monitors cycled through the outside cameras, revealing cables now attached to our ship and pulled tight like mooring lines on a ship in the ocean. From several cameras, I gathered that it was a total of 9 cables pulling to different points on the landing pad.
The captain's voice snapped me out of my trance. "How considerate," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Despite his words, I could sense the excitement in his voice.
As I looked at the monitor, trying to figure out how the lines were attached to the pad, extended, and attached to our ship, I saw the ground in front of us begin to shift and move. At first, it was barely noticeable, but soon, it became clear that the ground was rising and creating an angled ramp. With a slacked jaw, I realized that the ramp was extending several times taller than our ship, like an embankment between us and the aliens.
As the ramp continued to rise, I could see it was made of the same smooth, polished material as the landing pad. It must have been covered in dust from our landing for me not to notice it initially.
As I watched the massive ramp rise higher and higher, completely concealing the sight of the alien craft, my mind raced with possibilities. It was an impressive engineering feat that I had never seen before. My excitement got the better of me, and I couldn't help but blurt out, "That's an excellent way to make a shock wave divert in a vacuum."
My words seemed to catch the attention of the military personnel a few seats away, and one of them spoke up a few seats away from me. At first, I didn't respond, still transfixed by the spectacle unfolding before us. He might be discussing something with his team members. But then, a ping in my ear from the radio broke my concentration, and a voice asked, "Black Science geek, what does that mean?"
I looked around, slightly taken aback by the unexpected use of the term "Black Science geek." However, I guess the term applied, so I quickly composed myself and looked around. I met the military guy's eyes and pointed to myself. He nodded as if giving me permission to explain, so I began elaborating.
"It's simple," I said, shrug. "By creating a ramp like this, the shock wave from anything on this side would be deflected and dispersed, minimizing the impact on the ship itself. It's a brilliant, simple solution to an annoyingly complicated problem. If that material has minimal heat resistance and tensile strength, then any blast would just get sent to space. Heck even if a bomb was dropped the equivalent of Tsar Bomba and it would just bounce off harmlessly. Plus radiation isn't an issue out here, since well everything is radioactive to start with. Elegant and simple."
The military personnel seemed concerned by my explanation. I furrowed my brow, trying to think of what part of that explanation made him go pale.
With a start, I realized and blurted out. "If they wanted to, they could bomb us and not affect themselves. We are now in a kill box."
---
John's Perspective
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves after the intense discussion with Miles about the ramp and our potential danger. As I shifted in my seat, I suddenly felt a jolt of weight press against my body. It took me a moment to realize what it was - gravity. After over three days without any real sensation of gravity, it was a bit of a shock to feel a "down."
Looking around the cabin, I noticed that everyone else was also feeling the effects of the increased gravity. We were all used to floating around weightlessly, so this sudden change was disorienting. I glanced over at Miles, who seemed to handle the shift in gravity better than I was.
The small rotating section of the ship provided just enough gravity for a "down" to sit and use the head, but this was significantly more. It wasn't quite as strong as Earth's gravity, but it was enough to feel a sense of weight, and my arms and legs didn't randomly float without permission.
As I sat there, feeling the weight press down on me, I raced with thoughts of what the nerd had just said. The idea that the ramp could deflect even the most powerful of bombs was both impressive and concerning. Was Miles right? Were the aliens planning to bomb us? The thought made my stomach twist in knots.
But then my mind shifted to a more pressing concern - did the aliens know about the nukes we had on board? A cold sweat ran all the way down my back. As far as I knew, we had kept that information under wraps. But if the aliens had somehow found out, it would be a game-changer. Our whole mission would be compromised, and any chance of peaceful communication would be out the window.
I needed to talk to the rest of my team.
My worried thoughts were cut short by a ping from the speakers and headset.
"Okay folks, we are safely in place," the captain's voice crackled over the speakers and in our headsets. "Everything is steady and green. Let's get going with checking what the sensors can't. And the Non-science personnel...do... whatever you need to do...we will have at least some time before we can get on the ground," the captain finished.
I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the task ahead. I was about to have an annoying conversation forced on me by my higher-ups.
I unbuckled my straps and pushed myself out of my seat. I half walked, half skipped, and a quarter floated past my team members, giving them a single to head to the lower level where the bathrooms were located, at the bottom of the main cabin.
I needed a moment to clear my head and think things through. As I made my way down the ladder, somewhat floating down at a feather's pace, I stopped by the sleeping area. Dipping into my cocoon, I retrieved a small speaker loaded with random pop music.
When the last member of my team showed up, I checked to make sure we were alone in the bathroom cabin and locked the door behind us. As I turned on the speaker, the sound of some pop song filled the room, earning me a few raised eyebrows and a dirty look from a hardened military veteran as a girly voice sang about something stupid.
I cleared my throat and said, "That's for security," I said, gesturing to the speaker. "Just making sure we're not overheard."
I took a deep breath and leaned in before any of the animals could start ridiculing my music taste. "Alright, so here's the deal," I began, my tone serious. "We need to talk about the nukes."
The other countries' military men feigned confusion and ignorance. A few even whispered, "What nukes?"
I hung my head and sighed deeply. "Come on. My country sent me here with a nuclear warhead. I'm sure most of your countries did the same."
A slow nod ran the circle of heads.
"Do any of you think our firecrackers will do anything to that monster out there?"
The heads now switched from nods to shaking side to side.
"Then let's hope the big green men don't know we have them, and we will pretend we didn't notice them."
Everyone nodded in unison.
I wasn't expecting this talk to go so smoothly.