Project Life: Mission 21 (Teaser) (Patreon)

Surprise everyone! My first original story in nearly 20 years. I've been working on this story for months, slowly developing the idea and characters and chipping away at the first chapter. Keep in mind this is far from a finished product. Because I hope to publish this some day, expect it to go through a lot of iterations and editing. This is a very, very rough draft. How much you guys like will determine how much time I spend on it. My other content isn't going away or taking a back seat to this story. Updates will take time and most likely be infrequent, but if there's a lot of interest, I'll be more motivated to keep working on it. Let me know what you think in the comments and vote in the poll so I know what you think.

This story is also being cross posted on my second Patreon account Patreon.com/theplothole I set that up as a place solely for my original work. Everything posted there will be posted here. At least for now, that may change in the future, but I'll let you know when that happens. If you want to go over and join The Plot Hole as well, thank you. If not, I completely understand. This economy sucks. If you do join, I just ask that you don't mention my other fics in the comments. I want to keep the content separate.

And now, I present to you...

Project Life: Mission 21

In 2026, astronomers discovered a 5-mile-wide rogue asteroid hurtling toward Earth. In 2034, it struck. A cloud of ash and dust extended twelve miles into the sky, blotting out the sun. Tens of millions died on impact, and billions more perished in the aftermath. Some believe that a glancing blow with the moon on the way in was the only thing that saved humanity at all. Crops died, famine and disease spread like wildfire, and governments collapsed. Those who survived were forced to move themselves and what remained of their populations underground.

By the time the American government finished its first bunkers, just over thirty thousand Americans along the East Coast survived to make it inside. Scientists worked around the clock to solve the problems of providing enough food, water, and medicine to keep everyone alive. It was a miracle that anyone survived past the first few years.

Once the American government could provide for its remaining citizens, they were quick to turn their gaze outwards. Scientists estimated that it took thirty thousand years for the Earth to recover from the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. But the government wasn’t willing to be that patient. They turned their eyes to the stars and focused their efforts on colonizing another planet. For the next half a century, anyone who wasn’t working to keep them alive was put to work in pursuit of that goal.

It took sixty years to put the first new craft into space and just another ten to send humans to Mars. They talked about terraforming the planet, but it was determined that the resources needed and the time it would take made it unfeasible. A decade later, they sent a mission to Europa, one of the moons of Saturn that astronomers hoped could support life, but that too failed. It seemed like all hope was lost… but we humans… we’re not ones to give up on hope.

A century later, scientists made the breakthrough they needed. They managed to create a wormhole, an area where space is folded to connect two points. Now, humans didn’t have to look in their own backyard for a new home. The entire universe, as far as the eye could see and beyond, was within reach.

Every available resource was poured into Project Life. The one resource they were still short on, people, was rapidly replenished. After nearly two centuries of tightly controlling the population, everything was reversed. Laws were written to lower the taxes for families that had more children. To speed things up, they built artificial wombs in the tens of thousands. Young men and women not yet ready to settle down could earn a hefty check for donating their genetic material to the government. The DNA would be checked, the best candidates would be paired together, and the child would be born from an artificial womb.

That’s how I was born. My name is Rudy Franklin. I was born and raised by the government for one purpose. To settle humanity on another planet.

~

Rudy tugged his turtleneck shirt higher to block out the sand and dirt blown about by the harsh, cold winds. The sound of his own breathing echoed in his ears, reverberating off of the plastic face plate of his rebreather. Dim, mottled sunlight trickled down through the thick, reddish-brown atmosphere, shedding the barest of light on the barren, rocky ground beneath his boots. Dilapidated and ruined buildings from two and a half centuries ago and a roadway half buried under loose soil marked the path to a tall tower in the distance. Flashing red and white lights at the top blinked through the murky air. 

“One more to go,” a young woman’s voice crackled through the radio. “I can’t wait to get back and take a shower.”

“And a decent meal,” replied a deep, masculine voice.

Rudy glanced back over his shoulder as two figures approached. It would be impossible to tell who was who with their thick covering and masks covering their face if it wasn’t for the small placards on the front of their plate carriers. Jeremiah Day and Jennifer Ruiz had been born in the same batch as Rudy, their births coming just minutes apart. For the last twenty-one years, they’d lived, learned, and trained together in everything they did.

“Let’s get this done,” he said, turning back to the tower and marching forward. “If we can make it back to the bunker before nightfall, we’ll beat team two’s record.”

“And won a case of beer,” Jeremiah boasted. “Prescot said there was no way we could service all ten radio towers in ten days.”

“Hopefully, they won’t try to shoot us again when we show up three days ahead of schedule,” Jeniffer muttered.

“Thank god for IFF,” Jeremiah said.

“And thank god those Guardsmen don’t know how to turn it off,” Rudy grinned.

Reaching up to his shoulder, he grabbed the straw connected to his camel pack and inserted it through the small, round gasket in his face mask. He wrapped his lips around the straw and drank until there was nothing left. Finishing it now would save him a little bit of weight on the trip back.

As they reached the radio tower’s wide base, they quickly and silently moved to their assigned jobs. Jennifer connected her tablet to the inputs on the control panel near the ladder, checking the signal strength and looking for automated error messages. At the back of the tower, Jeremiah turned on his flashlight and visually inspected the cables for damage. Meanwhile, Rudy slung his rifle on his back and began climbing to the top.

Despite his desire to move quickly, he still made sure to connect himself to the safety railing to the right of the ladder. Not because he felt the need but because it had been drilled into him since he was a child not to take unnecessary risks.

It took Rudy several minutes to reach the top of the five-hundred foot high tower and inspect the capacitance hat.

“How’s it looking down there?” he asked.

“Everything’s in the green here,” Jennifer replied. “The signal dipped a little bit with that last dust storm, but it looks fine now.”

“Cables look a little worn, but they’ll last until the next inspection,” Jeremiah said.

“Good,” Rudy said. “The capacitance hat needs to be repaired or replaced. The metal is extremely worn, and the struts are bent from the wind.”

“I’ll put it in the report,” Jennifer said as the wind began to pick up.

“I’m on my way back down,” Rudy said, descending the ladder.

By the time he reached the bottom of the ladder, Jennifer and Jeremiah were already packed up and waiting for him. The wind had picked up on the climb down, and the pale, orange glow of the sun grew steadily lower in the sky.

“Let’s head back,” he said loudly over the sound of the rushing wind in his ears.

Turning East, they marched across the rocky, barren landscape. The high winds kicked up a wall of dirt and dust that completely surrounded them. Jennifer had to rely almost entirely on the GPS to guide them back to the bunker. After two hours, they finally spotted the only lit building. A grey, rectangular box made of thick concrete with six bright spotlights mounted on the top.

The lights turned to focus on them as they approached, forcing them to cover their eyes. Motors whirred, and the two heavy machine guns on either side of the thick, reinforced steel door swiveled to point at them. Rudy, Jennifer, and Jeremiah waited calmly for several seconds until the guns swiveled away, and a bright, yellow light began to flash above the door. A loud, staccato buzzer sounded as the heavy bolts that locked the door in place audibly retracted, and the door slowly swung inward.

Rudy led the way through the door and down the stairs that sat alongside a long, gently sloping ramp. At the end of the ramp sat a second reinforced security door with the words ‘WELCOME TO BUNKER FREEDOM’ written in tall white letters, but he ignored it and turned down a narrow hallway with a large yellow sign with black letters that read, ‘DECONTAMINATION.’

Stepping through the doorway at the end of the hall, they entered a rectangular room that was bare but for twelve showerheads hanging from the ceiling and a large drain in the center of the floor. Rudy, Jennifer, and Jeremiah each stepped under one of the showerheads and waited. The showers turned on a moment later, quickly soaking them from head to toe. Dirt and dust were washed off of the bodies and equipment, coloring the water a rusty brown color.

“Take off your masks, clean your face, and look at the camera,” a sharp, masculine voice barked over the intercom.

As one, Rudy, Jennifer, and Jeremiah pulled their hoods back, loosened the straps holding their masks to their faces, and broke the airtight seal. Pulling the masks over their heads, they tilted their faces back to wash them clean. Jeremiah’s bald, dark-skinned head shone under the bright fluorescent lights while Jennifer kept her head tilted back a little longer, sighing in relief as the water washed away ten days’ worth of grime from her olive complexion. Running a hand through his light brown hair to loosen the dirt and grit that had accumulated there, Rudy wiped his face and turned to the camera mounted in the top left corner near the door.

“You’re early, Franklin,” the man said over the intercom.

“Yes, sir,” Rudy replied. “We finished ahead of schedule.”

There was a moment of silence before the door lock clicked open and the showers cut off. Rudy walked through the door and stopped in a small, L-shaped room with twelve wooden benches bolted to the floors along the walls. To Rudy’s right was a thick glass window where a man in his thirties stood, making notes on a clipboard. On the right breast of his tan and brown camouflage uniform was a nametag that read, ‘G. HART.’ To the left of the window sat two large cabinets side by side. Both had red signs over them with bright red letters. The closest one read, ‘FIREARMS ONLY,’ while the far one read, ‘CLOTHES AND EQUIPMENT.”

“Ruiz,” Hart said, glancing up from his clipboard. “Pass me your tablet before you dump your gear.”

Jennifer pulled her tablet from the pouch on her plate carrier and placed it in a slim drawer underneath the window. Hart pressed a button, and the drawer retracted. Rudy could hear the sprayers inside decontaminating it before the drawer opened again, this time on the other side of the window, and Hart picked up the tablet. As he looked it over, Rudy, Jennifer, and Jeremiah placed their rifles and side arms in the weapons cabinet.

Moving over to the clothing and equipment cabinet, Rudy opened it to reveal a laundry chute. After they deposited their packs, plate carriers, and belts, they all stripped out of their outer clothes until Rudy and Jeremiah were down to their boxers, and Jennifer was down to her sports bra and panties.

“Huh, you actually did it,” Hart said, setting down the tablet and shaking his head as he wrote something on his clipboard. “Not bad. Go get cleaned up and get some rest. I’ll send this over to technical.”

“Will do,” Rudy nodded.

Rudy turned and walked further into the room. To his left sat a solid metal door with an illuminated exit sign hanging above it. Ignoring that, he instead turned right and walked through a doorway marked ‘SHOWERS’ in big, black, painted letters above the open doorway. The doorway led to two short hallways on the left and right. On the wall in front of him, painted in the same black letters, were the words ‘MEN’ on the left and ‘WOMEN’ on the right, with arrows pointing in those directions.

“Meet back here in twenty?” Rudy asked.

“Make it thirty,” Jennifer said over her shoulder as she turned right and walked through the door.

Rudy glanced at Jeremiah, who shrugged. Together, they turned left and entered the men’s shower. Half an hour later, they were clean and dressed in their navy blue police uniforms. Walking back out into the security room, Rudy looked around but didn’t see Jennifer there yet. As they waited for her, he turned to the weapons locker and opened it. The smell of disinfectant assaulted his nose, and droplets were still dripping down the side of his rifle when he grabbed it and slung it over his shoulder. While he slipped his pistol into the holster on his hip, Jennifer came out of the changing room fully dressed in her uniform.

Once she and Jeremiah took possession of their weapons, they headed towards the exit. The trio made their way through the winding halls of the bunker, passing a number of training rooms and classrooms, each full of students. Some were learning to farm in the most sustainable way possible and how to operate farming equipment. Others were being instructed on how to maintain and repair the infrastructure that kept the bunkers alive.

The vast majority of people born to the government would go on to spend the majority of their lives working in and perfecting a single trade. Electricians, plumbers, sewer and construction workers, farmers, and mechanics – those were the thankless but essential jobs they ended up working in.

Only a handful of every birth group would be picked to join the military, and only those in the military could be a police officer. Anyone was allowed to join, even those not born to the government, but few could pass the rigorous tests to be accepted.

In a world where entire countries – if any others had survived the asteroid – were forced to live underground for their survival, there was no need to have standing armies. There were no wars to fight. The only fight that mattered was the one for survival. 

After several minutes of walking, Rudy, Jennifer, and Jeremiah reached the railway station that would take them from the government-restricted area to the public living area of Bunker Freedom. They arrived at the station a little early and stood around to wait when Bradley Coral, a tall, muscular redhead with a full, thick beard walked up and clapped Rudy on the back. 

“Hey, you guys just get back?” he asked, smiling widely. 

“Yeah,” Rudy replied.

“How’s the weather out there?” Brad asked. 

“Windy,” Jennifer replied snarkily. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Rudy added. “There was a dust storm three days ago, but it only lasted about an hour. You going back out soon?”

“Tomorrow,” Brad nodded. “They’re sending us to those old apartment buildings to the North.”

“What do they have you recycling this time?” Jeremiah asked.

“Copper and aluminum, mostly,” Brad shrugged. “But you know how it is. They’ll probably have us out there for months picking it clean of electronics and anything else they want.”

Jeremiah nodded as the train began pulling into the station. With a farewell wave, Brad left to rejoin his friends while Rudy, Jeremiah, and Jennifer boarded and took their seats.

“You two want to come over to my place this weekend?” Jeremiah asked. “I’ll make barbeque.”

“That sounds a lot better than ordering pizza again,” Jennifer said.

The doors of the train closed, and they lurched into motion. As the train accelerated into the tunnel, their only view out of the window became a moving wall of grey concrete.

“I’m in,” Rudy shrugged. “It feels like we haven’t had a weekend off in months.”

“That’s because we haven’t,” Jennifer grumbled. “What’s with all these training exercises lately, anyway?”

“They run them every few years,” Jeremiah replied. “I think they just like to keep us on our toes.”

“You mean some limp-dick pencil pusher wants to see how we handle a job they could never do?” Jennifer asked flatly.

“Pretty much,” Rudy replied with a smile.

The view out of the window changed suddenly. On both sides of the train, the tight concrete tunnel opened up into a massive cavern. Sprawling fields of lush green plants stretched as far as the eye could see. Between the fields, farmers were driving their tractors back to the charging sheds for the night, some going underneath the bridge that held up the railway track. Overhead, anchored to the natural rock ceiling, hung row upon row of lights.

Between the lights hung long, thin pipes with sprinkler heads attached to the bottom. Rudy could see a few of them working in the distance, the heavy mist making it hard to see the fields they were watering.

As the train entered another tight, dull grey tunnel, it noticeably began to slow down. Ruby, Jeremiah, and Jennifer stood, preparing to depart. The train came to a stop, and the doors hissed open. They were waiting patiently for several people in front of them to exit the train when a sudden shout caught their attention.

“Hey!” a woman screamed. “He stole my purse!”

Rudy looked over and saw a young man with blonde hair trying to shove his way out of the train. In his arms, he clutched a black handbag.

“God damn it,” Rudy muttered. “Police! Make a hole!”

His shout got people out of the way, but it also drew the kid’s attention. He glanced over, his eyes widening when he spotted them, and took off in the opposite direction. Rudy, Jeremiah, and Jennifer raced after him up the stairs toward the exit. Reaching for his belt, Rudy turned on his radio and then keyed the mic on his shoulder.

“10-82, foot pursuit,” he panted. “Suspect is male in his late teens, six-foot, blonde hair, blue shirt, black pants. We’re leaving the North side of Freedom station.”

“Affirmative, 10-82. Sending units to assist,” a calm, pleasant female voice replied over the radio.

The kid jumped the turnstile at the station’s entrance and ran out onto the streets of Freedom Bunker. Rudy followed after him, with Jeremiah and Jennifer a second behind. The exit led to a six-story concrete canyon cut into the bedrock that stood tall on either side of the train tracks. A series of catwalks, ramps, and bridges connected the many stores and fast food shops built into the walls.

“Police stop!” Jeremiah shouted.

The teen ignored him and continued to shove his way past pedestrians as he desperately tried to make his escape. They chased him all the way to the top of the wall, where the city sprawled out horizontally.

“Turning East on Bell Street,” Rudy called over the radio.

While he and Jeremiah continued to run after the kid, Jennifer jogged to a stop outside of an electric bike rental station. Swiping her phone over the reader, she unlocked one of the bikes, twisted the throttle, and sped off in pursuit.

Rudy panted hard, his legs and lungs burning as he weaved his way between pedestrians. Despite the heavy foot traffic, the bright lights mounted to the ceiling and colorful signs mounted out of the buildings, along with the suspect’s bright blue shirt, made it easy to keep sight of the teen.

A woman staring at her phone pushed a cart full of groceries out of one of the stores. Rudy managed to jump out of the way, but Jeremiah wasn’t so lucky.

“Shit,” he cursed.

He crashed into the cart hard, tipping it over and spilling the groceries out onto the floor. The woman yelled at Jeremiah angrily as he scrambled back to his feet and continued to chase after the teen. The kid turned sharply down another street and tossed the purse down an alley.

“Turning North onto Walker,” Rudy called into his radio breathlessly. “Headed toward the apartments.”

The teen glanced back over his shoulder at Rudy, his face tired and covered in sweat, when a riderless bike rolled out in front of him from a side street. He tried to jump over it, but his feet got caught up in the front tire. As the kid tried to regain his balance, Rudy tackled him to the ground.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he huffed, grabbing the teen’s left wrist and wrenching it behind his back.

“Ah!” he yelled painfully. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Shut up and put your hands behind your back,” Jennifer said as she walked over and put her knee on the kid’s shoulder.

“Ow! You’re hurting my shoulder,” the kid screamed.

“Then stop fighting!” Rudy yelled.

Jennifer grabbed his other wrist and brought it around behind his back. Jeremiah caught up and stopped to catch his breath just as Rudy finished cuffing him. Leaning forward to keep his weight on the kid’s shoulders, he took a moment to catch his breath until he heard sirens rapidly approaching and keyed his mic.

“10-82, one in custody,” he panted.

“How did you get here so fast?” Jeremiah asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I grabbed a bike,” Jennifer replied, pointing to the black bike lying on its side. “This kid might be stupid, but he’s fast.”

“I didn’t do anything!” the teen yelled.

“Shut up,” Jennifer said shortly.

“Where’s the purse?” Jeremiah asked.

“Back there,” Rudy answered. “I saw him throw it in that little alley behind the pharmacy.”

“I didn’t throw a purse,” the kid said.

“Sure you didn’t,” Rudy replied, patting his shoulder.

He patted him lightly on the back right as an electric cart pulled up in front of them and came to a stop. The white cart had the word ‘POLICE’ written on the front in bold, black letters while red and blue lights flashed on the roof. In the driver’s seat was Leuitenant Mark Banner, a man in his late forties with short, black hair that was starting to go gray at the temples. John Chow, a short but stocky Asian man in his early thirties, sat next to him in the passenger’s seat.

They stepped out of the cart just as two more arrived from the other direction, each carrying two more officers.

“Aren’t you three supposed to be on assignment?” Banner asked gruffly as he walked up to them.

“We finished early,” Jennifer replied. “We just got off the train when this guy thought it would be a good idea to swipe a lady’s purse with three cops right next to him.”

“I didn’t steal a purse!” the kid yelled, trying to buck Jennifer off of him. “You can’t prove nothin’! I want to talk to the supervisor!”

“You’re looking at him,” Banner said, slipping his hands inside his vest casually as he looked down at the young man. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he shouted angrily. “Tell these feds to let me go!”

“Really?” Banner asked. “So if I go back to my cart and look at the security footage from the station, it’s not going to show you running from my officers with a purse in your hands?”

“Go, look at it!” the kid yelled defiantly.

Rudy scoffed and shook his head, “You’re just digging a bigger hole for yourself.”

“I’ll check it out,” Banner told him. “But first, I need to know your name.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied.

“Yes, I do,” Banner said sternly. “You don’t look eighteen, and I can’t release you until I can positively identify you and contact your parents. Now, do you want to tell me your name, or do you want to go sit at the station until we figure it out?”

The kid hesitated, visibly weighing his options before he sagged in defeat.

“Jake,” he said.

“Jake, what?” Banner asked.

“Jake Stenberg,” the kid replied.

“Alright, Jake,” Banner nodded. “Sit him up while I look up his information and see if I can get ahold of his parents.”

While he walked back to his cart and picked up his tablet, Rudy and Jennifer helped Jake sit up.

“I’ll go back and see if I can find that purse,” Jeremiah said.

“Let me know if you have trouble,” Rudy called as he walked away. “I know exactly where he threw it.”

Jeremiah nodded before turning and walking back to the alley. The four other officers were dealing with the shopper whose cart had gotten knocked over during the pursuit. She was visibly angry and pointing aggressively at Jeremiah as he walked just behind the officers.

“That’s him!” she yelled shrilly. “He’s the one that knocked over my cart!”

Jeremiah ignored her and disappeared into the alley for a few moments before he reappeared, purse in hand. Carrying it over to the sergeant’s cart, he placed it on the hood.

“See if you can find an ID,” Banner told him. “We might have a phone number on file.”

“I don’t think that’ll help,” Jeremiah said, lifting a cell phone out of the purse and holding it up.

“Then see if you can get an address, and I’ll send someone by tomorrow morning,” he said, climbing out of the cart and coming to stand in front of Jake. “Your mother’s on her way.”

“Just let me go, man,” Jake whined. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” Banner said.

Surveying the scene, he watched the angry woman rage at the other four officers and sighed.

“What the fuck is that about?” he muttered.

“She pushed her grocery cart out in front of me while we were chasing the suspect,” Jeremiah told him. “I knocked it over and broke a few things. She wants us to pay for the damages.”

Banner frowned and strode over to the woman.

“Ma’am, we’re conducting an investigation,” he said loudly, interrupting her as she was ranting at one of the other officers. “I need you to leave.”

“One of your officers ran into my cart and ruined my groceries!” she yelled. “He smashed an eighty-dollar bottle of wine!”

“What you need to do is take a picture of the damages and your receipt down to the station tomorrow and file a claim for damages,” Banner told her.

“I have a dinner party tomorrow!” the woman yelled incredulously.

“There’s nothing I can do about that,” he said. “No one here is authorized to reimburse you. Someone at the station will help you tomorrow morning. Now, leave so my officers can do their job.”

“I’m not going anywhere until someone pays for my groceries!” she shouted. “This is ridiculous!”

“Yeah, it is,” Banner said, crossing his arms over his chest. “If it was your purse that had been stolen, you’d be the first one screaming about getting it back. Now, you can either leave my crime scene, or I can arrest you for interfering.”

“You’re threatening to arrest me!?” the woman screamed in outrage. “Oh, I’ll be reporting you for this, officer…”

She trailed off, squinting as she tried to see the name on his lapel. Banner took a step closer and pulled his shirt taut, so it was easier to read.

“Sergeant Banner, badge four-one-seven,” he said, unbothered.

“I’ll make sure you get written up for this!” the woman yelled before she turned and stormed off.

Banner snorted as he watched her leave.

“When do I get to deal with people like that?” Jeremiah asked.

“When you’re old enough for early retirement,” Chow quipped.

Shaking his head, Banner looked over at the four officers milling around their carts.

“You four idiots, get back to work,” he said, jerking his thumb down the road.

“Yes, sir,” one of them said gratefully.

Quickly, they climbed back into their carts and drove off, waving to Rudy and the others as they passed.

“Which of you three is the arresting officer if I need one?” Banner asked.

Rudy, Jeremiah, and Jennifer shared a look. The arresting officer would have to take the kid in to be booked, which meant it would be at least another hour before they could go home.

“I am,” Rudy said.

Jennifer sighed in relief while Jeremiah smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

“Alright,” Banner nodded before pointing to Jeremiah and Jennifer. “You two, write up an incident report and go home. I don’t want to see you again until Monday.”

“Do we get overtime for this?” Jennifer asked as Chow took her place next to Jake.

“No,” Banner replied shortly.

Jennifer made an unhappy face as he walked back over to his cart. He picked up his tablet just as a tall, thin woman with chestnut-colored hair tied back in a bun pulled up on an electric bike.

“Jake, what the hell did you do?” she asked angrily.

“I didn’t do anything!” Jake yelled. “Tell these feds to let me go!”

“You’re the mother?” Banner asked.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “What’s my son been arrested for?”

“Right now, he’s being arrested for theft,” he told her.

“I didn’t steal anything,” Jake persisted.

“Bring him over here,” Banner said.

While Rudy and Chow helped the kid to his feet and walked him over to the cart, Banner waved the mother over and set the tablet on the hood of his cart. On the screen was the paused footage from one of the security cameras in the station.

“Last chance, Jake,” Banner said. “Do you want to tell me what really happened, or should we watch the video?”

They all waited for a long moment, but Jake didn’t respond. With a shrug, Banner reached over and tapped the play button. The video played and they all watched as the woman on the train set her purse on the floor to grab another bag. As soon as her back was turned, Jake snatched the purse and shoved his way past the people waiting to leave. Just as Rudy and Jeremiah ran after him, Banner paused the video.

Jake stared down at his feet sullenly while his mother glared at him furiously and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I can’t believe you,” she hissed, then turned to Banner. “What happens now?”

“Give me a minute to talk to my officer and find out what happened during the chase,” he said. “John, watch him for a minute. Franklin, come here.”

Rudy followed Banner a short distance, just far enough not to be overheard.

“Well, we have him on theft. Do you have any charges to add?” he asked.

“We could hit him with flee and elude, if you want to,” Rudy said.

“You caught him,” Banner said. “What do you want to do?”

Rudy thought for a moment.

“Does he have any priors?” he asked.

“No, this is his first offense,” Banner replied.

“Let’s just cut him loose with a summons, then,” Rudy said. “His mom looks like she’ll be harder on him than a couple hours in a cell.”

Banner nodded, “Alright, I’ll let you break the news.”

Rudy nodded, and they walked back over to the cart.

“Alright, here’s what’s going to happen,” he said to the mother. “Since we can’t ask the victim if she wants to press charges, legally, we have to. But, I’m going to write a summons and send him home with you.”

The mother let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“Just know that if he doesn’t show up to court, they’ll put out a warrant for his arrest, and then he’ll sit in jail until he sees a judge,” Rudy warned.

“Oh, I’ll make sure he goes,” she said, glaring at her son.

Jake continued to stare down at his shoes.

“Give us a few minutes to finish the paperwork, and you can go,” Banner said.

Rudy rode his electric bike the short distance from his apartment complex to Jeremiah’s. Their apartments were built along the same bunker wall just a few hundred yards apart. Being government-allocated, they were some of the oldest buildings in the bunker, but they had the benefit of being near one of the few small parks scattered underground.

Squinting his eyes against the glare of the grow lights hanging overhead, he smiled as he watched a couple of young boys run around on the grass while their parents sat in the shade of a nearby oak tree. A woman in her early twenties, dressed in black yoga pants and a pink tank top, jogged along the winding footpath, sweat glistening on her pale skin. Further away, he could make out a father tossing a frisbee back and forth with his young daughter.

As he rode past the park entrance, Rudy gave the park security officer a friendly wave before turning into Jeremiah’s apartment complex. Still moving, he dismounted his bike and parked it in the bike rack. After securing the lock around his front forks and connecting the battery to the charger, he walked over to the stairs and jogged up to the fourth floor. He walked past several doors before he reached one labeled ‘427.’ Raising his hand, he knocked sharply twice, and Jennifer answered a moment later

“About time you got here,” she said, moving aside so he could enter. “What took you so long?”

“The water stopped working while I was halfway through my shower,” Rudy replied, stepping inside. “I had to call maintenance and finish washing my hair in the neighbor’s sink.”

“The same thing happened to me a couple of months ago,” Jeremiah said, lifting his head out of the refrigerator to look over his shoulder. “Took maintenance two weeks to fix it.”

Like all government-allocated living quarters, Jeremiah’s apartment consisted of a tiny kitchen and a narrow living area just large enough to accommodate a couch, a small table, and a television. Two doors on the left-hand wall led to a cramped bathroom and a bedroom. At the back of the apartment stood a sliding glass door leading to a small balcony overlooking the park. It was much better than the view Rudy had from his of a grimy alley between a liquor store and a convenience store.

On the balcony sat a grill that Jeremiah had built himself. It consisted of a steel drum he’d cut in half, welded a hinge and handle to, and attached to some legs made from angle iron. A metal grate sat above a heating element he’d appropriated from the recycling center. Two thick wires with alligator clips connected it to a large battery sat on the floor.

“So, what do you guys want?” Jeremiah asked. “I’ve got ribs or T-bone steaks.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jennifer replied. “It all tastes the same.”

“Oh no,” Jeremiah said, grinning as he placed the packaged meat on the counter. “This isn’t that plant-based stuff you get at the grocery store. This is the real deal.”

“You mean that new lab-grown meat?” Rudy asked, arching an eyebrow. “How the hell did you get a hold of that?”

“You remember that girl I was seeing, Marie?” Jeremiah asked.

“The brunette with the freckles?” Rudy asked.

“No, that was Janet,” Jeremiah said, shaking his head. “Marie’s the blonde.”

“I thought that was Alyssa,” Rudy said, tilting his head curiously.

“Nah, she’s the other blonde,” Jeremiah replied.

“Can you get to the point,” Jennifer said impatiently.

Jeremiah raised his hands placatingly.

“Alright,” he said. “She works at the lab they grow it in. She slipped me some of the samples she takes home to taste test last time I was at her place.”

“So, you gave her your meat, and she gave you hers?” Rudy smirked.

“How do you even have time for all these women?” Jennifer asked. “I haven’t been laid in months because of all these exercises they’ve got us running, and you’re out here being a gigolo as a side hustle.”

“Hey, you want some of this or not?” Jeremiah asked.

“T-bone, medium rare,” she replied, picking up her bottle of beer and taking a sip as she walked towards the living room.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jeremiah said, then lowered his voice to mutter. “Talk shit about my meat.”

Smiling, Rudy patted on the shoulder, pulled a beer out of the case in the refrigerator, and popped open the top.

“Steak for me, too,” he said.

“Coming right up,” Jeremiah said.

Lifting the rack of ribs from the counter, he put it back in the refrigerator and pulled out three fresh ears of corn. With a knife, he cut open the steaks and set them on a platter along with the corn while Rudy walked into the living room and sat on the couch next to Jennifer, who was flipping through the channels.

“How do you want it cooked?” Jeremiah asked, pulling some seasoning from the cupboard above the stove.

“Your call,” Rudy replied. “You know I don’t cook.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jennifer snorted. “You eat soup straight out of the can.”

Rudy shrugged and smiled, “It saves me from dirtying a bowl.”

“Medium rare it is,” Jeremiah said.

Picking up the platter, he carried it out to the balcony and set it next to the grill. The meat sizzled the moment it struck the hot grate.

“Wooo!” Jeremiah howled. “That’s what I’m talking about. You smell that? Hey, what time’s the game start?”

“Half an hour,” Jennifer called back.

On the flat-screen television, two presenters were discussing the chances each lacrosse team had to win when there was a loud knock at the door.

“You want me to get that?” Rudy asked.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah yelled.

Setting his beer down on the coffee table, Rudy got off the couch and walked to the front door. He opened it and looked questioningly at the well-dressed man waiting on the other side.

“Corporal Jeremiah Day?” he asked.

“No. One second,” Rudy replied, then looked over his shoulder and yelled, “Jeremiah, it’s for you!”

“What do they want!?” Jeremiah yelled back.

“Corporal Day?” the man called. “I have official correspondence I need you to sign for!”

Rudy shared a glance with Jennifer, who furrowed her brow.

“Coming!” Jeremiah yelled. “Jennifer, come watch these steaks for me!”

Sighing, Jennifer stood from the couch.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Corporal Jennifer Ruiz, would you?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Jennifer replied suspiciously.

“And by happy chance, would you be Sergeant Rudy Franklin?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Rudy replied.

“Great,” the man smiled. “That saves me two trips.”

Turning to the side and bending over, he reached into a satchel bag hanging from his shoulder and pulled out three large, white envelopes and a tablet. As he straightened up, he handed the tablet to Rudy.

“Sign on the line, please,” he said.

Rudy signed the tablet with a swish of his finger and handed it back. The man took the tablet and passed it to Jennifer before handing Rudy one of the envelopes. Immediately, he could feel the quality of the paper against his fingertips. While Jennifer and Jeremiah took turns signing for and receiving their envelopes, he looked his over. On the top left corner sat the embossed seal of the president of the United States. Glancing over at Jennifer and Jeremiah’s, he saw that their envelopes were exactly the same.

“Thank you,” the man smiled, taking his tablet back from Jeremiah and tucking it away in his satchel. “Have a great day.”

“Yeah, you too,” Jeremiah replied distractedly, closing the door. “Why are we getting a letter from the president?”

Jennifer shrugged, “I guess we’ll find out.”

She tore the envelope open carelessly and pulled out the single piece of tri-folded paper inside. Rudy opened his and unfolded the letter inside. His eyes took in the presidential letterhead embossed in gold at the top of the letter for a moment before flickering down to read the short message.

 Dear Sergeant Rudy Franklin,

            President Edmond Harper requests your presence for a briefing at the White House on March 25th at 4:00 pm. Please arrive half an hour earlier with your credentials. The contents of this letter are to be considered confidential. We look forward to seeing you.

“Whoa,” Jeremiah said.

“Why the hell would they invite us to the Capitol?” Jennifer asked suspiciously. “This better not be some kind of political stunt. I hate politics.”

Rudy shrugged and smirked, “I guess we’ll find out,” he said.

“Time to dig out the dress uniform,” Jeremiah sighed, then turned to Rudy. “And you need to call the Lieutenant and let him know we need the night off.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Rudy nodded.

Jennifer sniffed the air and furrowed her brow.

“Anyone else smell burning?” she asked.

Jeremiah’s eyes widened.

“Shit!” he yelled.

Spinning around, he slammed his letter on the kitchen counter and sprinted through the living room, leaping over the coffee table, and skidded out onto the balcony. Jennifer snickered while Rudy sniffed the air.

“I don’t smell any burning,” he said.

“I know,” Jennifer said. “I just wanted to make him run.”

Rudy smirked, “Fair enough.”

Three days later, Rudy, Jeremiah, and Jennifer donned their dress uniforms and rode their bikes to the opposite side of the bunker, where the majority of the federal government buildings sat. The streets were noticeably cleaner than the ones Rudy patrolled. Trees, protected by black iron fences, lined the main roads, spaced about five yards apart. High-end clothing stores and expensive restaurants, their concrete faces clean and freshly painted, occupied most of the buildings on the left side of the road.

On the right side stood a high, black iron gate running the length of the Eastern edge of the bunker. Beyond the gate and its guarded entrance was a long but narrow park decorated with trees, statues, and concrete benches. Carefully maintained walkways cut through the carpet of green grass, leading to a multitude of government buildings built directly into the Eastern wall.

Unlike the other three sides of the bunker, which had been roughly cut and blasted into shape to make room for the rapidly expanding population, the Eastern wall had been uniformly cut centuries earlier. The entrances to the buildings, spaced hundreds of yards apart and made of artfully carved blocks of pale stone, stood out in stark contrast to the dull grey bedrock of the wall they protruded from.

As Rudy pulled up to the guarded gate blocking the entrance to the White House, the façade an exact replica of the pictures he’d seen of the original in history books, he spotted Lieutenant Mark Banner waiting on the sidewalk. Sharing a confused glance with Jennifer and Jeremiah over his shoulder, they shrugged. The three of them slowed and dismounted their bikes to park them in the bike rack.

“What are you doing here, sir?” Jeremiah asked.

“I’m here for the same reason you are, Day,” Banner replied. “Why do you think I didn’t complain about giving you the day off.”

“Do you know why we’re here?” Jennifer asked.

“No idea,” Banner said, shaking his head. “And if command knows anything, they’re not saying. Now, let’s go.”

“Yes, sir,” Rudy, Jennifer, and Jeremiah responded reflexively.

Falling in line behind the Lieutenant, they marched up to the guard post. A woman in her late twenties, with her blonde hair tied back in a neat bun and a clipboard in her hand, met him at the window with a salute.

“Names, sir?” she asked briskly.

“Mark Banner, Rudy Franklin, Jeremiah Day, and Jennifer Ruiz,” Banner replied.

“IDs?” she asked.

They all pulled out their wallets and handed over their military IDs. The woman spent a moment checking each of them before marking them off on her clipboard and handing them back.

“You’re free to go in,” she said. “Someone will meet you at the entrance and escort you inside.”

“Thank you,” Banner said.

Turning, the two guards posted on either side of the gate snapped to attention and saluted the Lieutenant as he passed. When Jeremiah passed the woman at the booth, he looked over and gave her a handsome smile. Jennifer rolled her eyes and gave him a light shove to get him moving. Following Banner up the paved walkway to the entrance of the White House, Rudy was struck by the smell of the freshly watered grass, something he rarely got to enjoy.

As they climbed the short set of steps to the front door, they were met by an attractive woman who appeared to be in her thirties wearing a dark blue dress suit.

“Lieutenant Banner?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Banner replied.

“Wonderful, I’m Gwen Miller,” she said with a wide, welcoming smile. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your meeting.”

Spinning gracefully in her high-heeled shoes, Gwen walked past the line for the tour and led them down a roped-off hallway. Halfway down the hall, they took a right and descended a set of stairs. At the bottom, they stopped at a checkpoint manned by two Secret Service agents. They were quickly checked through, and Gwen ushered them down another hallway, turned left at the corridor, and finally through a set of thick wooden doors.

A round table, large enough to seat two dozen people and made of dark stained wood, dominated the center of the room. The room was dimly lit from the ceiling in contrast to the harsh white lights in the hallway. To the right, flanked by a pair of American flags, sat another set of double doors. On the back wall, opposite the doors they’d walk through, was a wooden wall panel decorated with the presidential seal. Large, flat-panel televisions hung on the wall on either side of the seal.

Rudy wiped his sweaty palms on his legs as it really hit home that he was about to meet the president of the United States.

“Please find your seats,” Gwen said, gesturing to the paper nameplates in front of each seat. “I need to go check on our other guests. Feel free to help yourself to a glass of water while you wait.”

As she turned and left through the doors they’d entered, Rudy found his spot at the table between Banner and Jennifer and took a seat. Jeremiah sat to Jennifer’s right and adjusted the collar of his shirt as they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Sighing, he reached for the carafe in front of Jennifer and poured himself a glass of water.

“Is it hot in here?” he asked before taking three big sips.

“Calm down,” Rudy said, pouring himself a glass of water. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Calm down?” Jeremiah asked incredulously but softly. “We’re about to meet the president!”

“You both need to relax,” Jennifer said sternly, leaning back in her seat. “Get comfortable. Who knows how long we’ll be waiting before someone shows up?”

The door behind them opened, and Jennifer leapt to her feet, snapped to attention, and saluted. Rudy was halfway out of his seat when he realized it was just Gwen and a group of civilians.

“Sorry to startle you,” Gwen said, smiling apologetically.

Jennifer blushed lightly and smoothed out her uniform before she calmly sat back down. Rudy and Jeremiah shared a glance and a smile as the civilians walked into the room and took their seats.

“I’ll let the president know you’re all here,” Gwen smiled. “He should be down in a few moments.”

“Do you know why we’re here?” A young woman asked.

The nameplate in front of her read GRACE ARCHER in bold black letters. The tips of her short, dark hair were dyed purple, and she had several piercings in each ear. Safety pins attached Dozens of decorative patches to the jacket of her pantsuit, and her dark blue tie hanging loosely around her next featured a grey skull and crossed bones design.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have that information,” Gwen said. “I’ll be back in a moment. Make yourselves comfortable.”

A man who looked to be in his forties with a goatee and wearing wide glasses turned to Banner and arched an eyebrow. His nameplate read, NATHAN HASKINS.

“Does the White House usually request a meeting without telling you what it’s about?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t know,” Banner replied. “This is the first time I’ve been here. We’re just as much in the dark as all of you.”

“Really?” Nathan asked. “Interesting.”

“I bet it’s a biodome,” A young man said from across the table.

His nameplate read EVAN MCKENNA. He was a handsome young man in his early to mid-twenties with hazel eyes and short, dirty blonde hair.

“A biodome?” a beautiful young woman asked.

ALYSON KLINE was printed on her nameplate, and she was extraordinarily beautiful and had a striking figure. Her hair was long, straight, and blonde, and her eyes bright blue.

“Well, my thesis was on building a biodome on the surface and how it could help bring life back to the surface thousands of years sooner than if we do nothing,” Evan bragged. “My uncle, he’s a congressman for Independence Bunker, said he was going to pass on my research to some colleagues. I bet all of you work in some field that could help, and I bet these guys specialize in engineering.”

Rudy bristled slightly at the dismissive glance he spared him and his fellow soldiers.

“We specialize in recon, search and rescue, and high-risk maintenance, actually,” he said stiffly.

A short woman in her forties raised her hand. She was tall and thin, with auburn hair tied back in a bun, and she wore thin, stylish glasses.

“I’m a medical doctor,” she said softly. “I don’t think they’d have much use for me in a biodome.”

“And I don’t think they’d need a meteorologist for an enclosed system,” Nathan added.

Evan furrowed his brow unhappily, folded his arms over his chest, and sat back in his chair.

“Maybe they’re building another bunker?” Alyson offered.

Before anyone could reply, the doors to Rudy’s left swung open. He leaned forward, prepared to stand when he saw Gwen, and then stood when the president entered after her. Snapping to attention, he saluted as Banner, Jennifer, and Jeremiah did the same. Edmond Harper was tall and thin but had a handsome face. His dark hair was combed to the side, and grey was creeping up from the temples.

Trailing into the room behind him was an older, balding gentleman in a suit that Rudy didn’t recognize. Next to him, striding into the room confidently, was the tall, dark, imposing figure of Raymond Huff, General of the United States Army. At well over six feet tall with broad shoulders, he towered over everyone else in the room. His short, perfectly trimmed hair was greying at the edges. Turning to the soldiers in the room, he gave them a once over with dark, intelligent eyes and returned their salute.

“At ease, gentlemen–and lady,” the president added at the end, directing a brief smile at Jennifer before he took his place at the head of the table. “Please, everyone, have a seat. I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here, but before I can tell you, you’ll need to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

Gwen cradled a stack of papers in her arms and walked around the table, handing out thick contracts to everyone except Rudy and the other soldiers.

“What are these for?” Nathan asked, flipping through the contract quickly.

“What you’re about to be told is classified top secret,” President Harper replied. “You’re not committing to anything by signing them except that you won’t talk about with anyone outside of this room.”

“Why don’t they have to sign one?” Evan asked, glancing at Rudy and the other soldiers.

“They already did when they agreed to join the Army,” Harper said. “If any of you don’t want to sign it, you’re free to leave any time you’d like.”

The civilians at the table fiddled nervously with their pens and glanced at each other silently for a long moment.

“No way I’m leaving here without finding out what’s going on,” Grace said.

Uncapping her pen, she signed with a flourish. That seemed to give the others the courage they needed, and they all quickly signed their contracts. Gwen walked back around the table and began collecting them in her arms.

“Thank you,” Harper said, sounding genuinely grateful. “First of all, let me introduce Raymond Huff, General of the US Army, and Oscar Lawson, the former Senator of Liberty Bunker. Oscar, would you like to fill them in?”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Oscar said, getting to his feet. “For the last one hundred and sixty-eight years, the United States government has been working on a top secret operation. An operation we’d like you to be a part of. We call it Project Life.”

Picking up a remote control from the table in front of him, he hit a button, and the screens behind the president flickered to life. Both screens showed an image of a large, circular object floating in space with the moon in the background. It appeared to be made of two concentric rings connected by thick black cables and coils of thick copper that tapered into a point where they touched the inner ring.

Rudy couldn’t really get a sense of scale until he spotted the solar arrays attached to each of the coils. He knew from cleaning the panels as a cadet just how big they were. Given the number attached to each satellite, he estimated each of them to be thousands of square yards. For a moment, he thought they must used smaller ones in space until he saw a shuttle docked to one of the satellites. It was easy to miss, being dwarfed by everything else on the screen, and demonstrated just how massive the arrays were.

“Good lord,” Nathan said. “What is that thing? That ring must be a kilometer wide.”

“This is the Brennan-Miller array, named after the scientists that invented it,” Oscar responded. “It creates a bridge between the ring and any point in space.”

“A wormhole?” Grace asked excitedly.

“Essentially, from what I’m told,” Oscar replied. “It requires a massive amount of power, which is why we have so many solar arrays. Even with what we have, it takes eight years to store enough power to open the bridge for ninety seconds. For the last one hundred and sixty years, every eight years, we have sent a crew through the bridge in an attempt to find a habitable planet.”

“We’ve had this for a hundred and sixty years!?” Nathan asked incredulously. “How did you manage to keep it secret for that long?”

“A better question is why?”

Rudy looked over at the man who’d spoken. The name on his nameplate was DANIEL BURKE. He was a short, stocky man with dark hair and a trimmed beard that covered his wide, square jaw.

“Both good questions,” President Harper nodded. “The first several missions were kept secret because there was a fear that knowledge of the missions would cause civil unrest if they were to fail. After that, they were kept secret because for the first seven missions, no one returned alive. Things are much safer now. We haven’t lost a single crew member in the last twelve missions. Despite that, there is still the risk of severe civil unrest if this were to become public knowledge. Studies have shown that the people who work on Project Life are much more likely to suffer from depression and anxiety than the general population.”

“As for how, well, the government keeps close eyes on everyone that learns about Project Life, and we have experts that are very good at discrediting people when necessary. Thankfully, it’s been decades since we’ve had to do that.”

Turning to Oscar, he nodded for him to continue. Oscar pressed a button on the remote, and an image of a pale, blue and green planet appeared on the screens.

“This is the planet we’ll be examining,” he said. “Oasis three. It’s approximately thirty-four lightyears from Earth, and our best hope to find a habitable planet yet. Seven years ago, Mission twenty went to Oasis two. Now, that planet turned out to be a barren rock, but they managed to redirect their satellites to Oasis three for a closer look.”

The images on the screens change to a much closer view, revealing a long coastline with lush, green vegetation on the land.

“There’s liquid water, plant life, survivable temperature, and an oxygen-rich atmosphere,” he said. “They even detected tectonic movement, which I’m told is a good sign for the longevity of the planet. However, there are risks. This planet is roughly twenty percent larger than Earth, so you can expect stronger gravity than you’re used to, but it’s nothing the human body can’t adapt to over time. And we don’t know what kind of animal life exists–if there is any.”

“Wait, you want us to go to this planet and, what, survive for eight years and then come back?” a young man asked.

He was the only one who hadn’t spoken so far, and Rudy took a glance at this nameplate, which read TOBY MCGILL. Of average height and skinny, he looked fresh out of high school, although Rudy guessed he was older than he appeared. His straw-colored hair was long and shaggy, the bangs continually falling in front of his light green eyes. He shifted nervously in his seat as the president turned to address him directly.

“Your mission will be to attempt to live on and colonize another world for the first time in human history,” Harper said. “Perhaps it would be best if we explained exactly what your roles will be. General?”

General Huff cleared his throat and folded his hands together on the table.

“Yes, sir,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. “We’ll be sending seven craft through the bridge. Three will remain in orbit around the planet for the duration of the mission. One will be an orbiter from which Dr. Nathan Haskins and Grace Archer will monitor the weather, onboard satellites, and maintain communication with the exploration team. The other two craft in orbit will attach to the orbiter and contain all the supplies you’ll need for the whole team to survive in space until you can return.”

“Two crafts are designed as landers and will take the exploration crew to the surface of the planet. If the planet is unsuitable for human life, they are capable of returning you safely to orbit. The remaining two craft will contain all of the equipment and supplies you’ll need to survive and conduct research on the surface.”

General Huff turned his head and nodded toward Oscar.

“Former Senator Lawson will be in charge of the overall mission and responsible for the crew,” he said before opening a folder and checking a piece of paper. “Lieutenant Banner will be second in command and head of security. He, along with Sergeant Rudy Franklin and Corporals Jennifer Ruiz and Jeremiah Day, will provide security for the crew while you’re on the surface. Maggie Wu will be assigned as the lead scientist biologist of the mission. All of you will have specific duties and experiments to perform, but we can go over those at a later stage.”

“Uh, I mean no offense,” Nathan said hesitantly, looking at Oscar. “But why is Mr. Lawson in charge of the mission?”

“Don’t let the bald head and beer belly fool you,” President Harper smiled. “Before he became a Senator, Oscar was an engineer, and he’s an accomplished leader. He planned and led the expansion of Independence Bunker fifteen years ago.”

Nathan nodded, seemingly satisfied, and Rudy had to admit, knowing that made him feel better about having a politician in charge of the mission.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Harper continued. “I don’t expect an answer now. Take a few days to think about it. We can meet here again next week, and you can give me your answer.”

“What about our families?” Alyson asked. “What are we supposed to tell them?”

“You’ll be working to colonize and terraform Mars,” Harper replied.

“How long will it be until we leave if we agree?” Maggie asked.

“Just over a year from now,” Oscar said. “I know it doesn’t seem like a lot of time, but the skill and expertise you already have are what we’re looking for. Most of the training you’ll need to go through is on the equipment you’ll be using to survive and conduct your research.”

“Take some time to think it over,” President Harper said, getting to his feet. “Gwen will be in touch to set up the next meeting.”

Rudy felt numb as he reflexively stood and saluted the president as he left the room. He watched in a daze, lost in his own thoughts, as the civilians slowly got to their feet.

“What do you think?” Jennifer asked.

Rudy looked at her and blinked, the words taking a few seconds to sink in before he understood them.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “We’ve always done what was asked of us. We’ve always volunteered for the task no one else wanted to do or were too dangerous, but this? Eight years on another planet?”

“I know,” Jennifer sighed. “It sounds insane.”

“It is insane,” Jeremiah said. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I could use a drink. How about a beer at my place?”

“I’ll need more than one,” Jennifer scoffed.

Rudy smiled and nodded, “I’m always up for free beer.”

“Great,” Jeremiah grinned. “How about you, Lieutenant?”

“You know what, Day, I think I’ll take you up on that,” Banner said.