John walked across the field of swaying tall grass, towards his wife’s loving embrace. The sun was low in the sky, painting her features beautifully in its amber glow. She beckoned him closer, laughing in her typical carefree way. A warm smile spread across his face as he approached her gently.
Alexandra smiled back wordlessly, sending a jolt of energy and excitement through her husband’s chest. Even after all these years… he thought. He reached out to finally touch his lover’s hand, but a piercing screech suddenly rang out, causing him to double over in pain. As he looked up, the image of Alexa began to fade, before disappearing into obscurity, like sands in the wind.
John’s eyes snapped open. He was in a gray room, on a gray planet. His alarm clock was blaring, brazenly emitting the same sickeningly-familiar trill as always. As he emphatically pushed the off button, the crushing wave of reality hit him harder than usual. He was no longer home, no longer with her. He was alone.
The barren steel walls of his quarters felt claustrophobic as John slowly stood up. He stepped over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, trying to gain some composure. He pushed his wavy, dark-brown hair away from his face. Keep it together John, you have a job to do, same as always.
His eyes scanned the room as he brushed his teeth, making sure everything was in order. His small chamber wasn’t filled with personal belongings, but simply Weyland-Yutani items and equipment. A briefcase filled to the brim with various company files was placed neatly on his desk, next to his SAT-phone. Everything he “owned” was given to him by the corporation, right down to his standard issue boxer briefs and socks. They were the same dull gray color as everything else in the room. He often longed for the vivid colors he once knew, the green grass, the blue skies, and the shiny blonde of Alexa’s hair.
John dressed himself quickly in sweatpants and a t-shirt before stepping out into the commons, and hanging a right towards the elevator. He pressed the button, heading down to ground level. As the metal doors slowly hissed open, out strode Director Sullivan. John was less than thrilled to see her face before having a chance to drink his morning coffee.
“Mr. Barrett. I was just coming to find you. Did you not check your SAT-phone this morning? I have a special assignment for you, and there’s no time to waste,” she said.
John looked up. “Good morning, Director,” he said. Her mouse-brown hair was pulled back tightly in a neat bun, and a pair of thick glasses rested on her pointed nose. She wore an expensive gray suit, pressed and ironed so meticulously that not a single wrinkle remained.
To John, the director appeared neither young nor old, attractive or unattractive. She was simply plain. Her demeanor seemed to match her outward appearance, as there was not one thing about her personality that was remarkable. She performed her duties without fault, and that was it.
“You will report to my office at 08:00 for the briefing,” she said as she turned to leave. “Do not be tardy,” she added sternly.
“Yes, Madam Director,” John replied automatically. She nodded sharply before striding away, her high-heels clacking on the steel floors with each step.
John sighed softly as he stepped into the elevator. He checked his watch, relieved to see he still had an hour before the meeting. The doors slammed shut, and the elevator dinged as it took him down to ground level.
The doors finally parted and John stepped outside, if you could even call it that. A colossal glass dome surrounded the entire station, shielding its inhabitants from the poisonous vapors of the planet known as Perseus IV. Clouds of sulfuric gas congregated around the dome, creating a permanent gray cloud above the facility. Acid rain beat down across the translucent glass, streaming down to the burning sands of the planet. Perseus IV had always been completely inhospitable, until the Weyland-Yutani corporation constructed the oxygen-rich bubble surrounding the facility. Building a headquarters on such a deadly planet saved the company considerable funds, so the choice was simple.
The station was called Astroport, and it became a prominent base of operations for many of Weyland-Yutani's corporate divisions, as well as a hub for merchants passing through the remote sector of space. The outpost housed various company spaceships, docked in the rows of hangars on the outskirts of the facility. Astroport itself was a staggering maze of buildings and catwalks criss-crossing in all different directions. The station was home to around thirty-thousand employees, and five-hundred synthetics. John did his best to steer clear of these artificial people, although most of his colleagues didn’t seem to mind them. Something about them was so viscerally human, he felt deeply unsettled every time he encountered one. Luckily, his role seldom required him to call upon their abilities, so he rarely interacted with them.
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Most of Astroport's exterior was steel-gray, only interrupted by the occasional yellow and black of the Weyland-Yutani emblem. Beneath the logo read the slogan: “Weyland Yutani- Building Better Worlds”. John had always wondered what their definition of “better” was. As he strode across the steel walkways, other employees bustled past him, too absorbed in their own affairs to even notice him.
He picked his way through the crowd, turning left down a staircase across from the supply depot. It was here he had long-ago discovered a relatively unknown service pathway that looped around the entire facility. This had become his personal track. John knelt down in a runners stance, before taking off as fast as he could. His shoes clanged against the rusty surface as he urged himself forward, trying to outrun his thoughts. Running was the only thing that quieted the voice in John’s head, and gave him peace. It was often the only pleasant moment of his entire day.
When he concluded his run, John reached for a horizontal pipe above his head. He performed thirty-one pull ups, before dropping down for fifty-five push ups. He repeated this five times, along with some squats. He did his best to increase the number of reps every week at the very least.
He didn’t know why he even cared about staying in shape. Perhaps it was an act of defiance towards the company, showing them that he still had some part of him they couldn’t own. Whatever the reason was, John hadn’t missed a workout since he arrived on Perseus IV, ten years ago. However at that time, his motivations were completely different.
He made his way back to his quarters with haste, checking his watch more than a few times. He quickly showered, then pulled on his gray slacks, followed by a crisp white button-up shirt that he neatly tucked in. He tied on a gray tie, feeling slightly choked as he tightened the knot to his neck.
He checked his watch again, and it read 07:57 as he walked briskly down the sprawling corridors to the director’s office.
“I’ll be there just in time,” he thought.
As he stepped into Director Sullivan’s office, the clock on her desk read 08:01.
“You’re late, Mr. Barrett,” she said dryly.
“I-” he began, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine, John. I’ll have the credits deducted from your next paycheck. Now, onto more pressing matters.”
She turned towards the hologram deck behind her, and clicked it on with a remote. A planet appeared on the holo-deck, surrounded by three small moons. It rotated slowly above the deck, the image glitching sporadically with static.
“Are you familiar with this planet, Mr. Barrett?” she asked.
John studied the hologram carefully, then shook his head. “No.”
“Neither was I until this morning,” the director continued. “But it appears one of our company freighters has inexplicably crash-landed there. The planet is known as Osiris III, and it’s well outside of the ship’s assigned flight path.”
“Any survivors?” John asked, a puzzled expression on his face.
“We don’t know yet. But you will find out soon enough. I’m assigning you to a team tasked with investigating this disaster,” she said.
“Me?” John asked, confused.
“Yes. We are to follow standard protocol, and dispatch a search-and rescue squad, a security detail, and finally, a damage-assessment team. You will lead this team, and analyze the wreckage for any materials the company can salvage, as well as write a report to catalogue our losses. I expect this report hand-delivered to me as soon as you return. Any questions?” she asked.
John had about a thousand questions, but decided not to waste his breath. He hadn’t been off-planet since he arrived on Perseus IV, and he always thought he would remain here until his twenty-year contract was up. He felt a rush of excitement at the prospect of leaving Perseus IV, but also a flood of anxiety about the unknown. His life on Astroport was certainly dull, but at least it was safe. He had always intended to serve out the entirety of his contract here, keeping his head down and his mouth shut.
“What if I refuse?” he finally asked.
“You’re an employee here, not a slave Mr. Barrett. You’re free to choose whatever you wish. However, I think you’d be interested to hear the compensation plan we’re offering you for this assignment.”
“Money means little to me,” John muttered.
“I figured you’d say something like that, that’s why I’m offering you something better. Complete this mission, and the corporation will waive the last ten years of your contract. You can finally go back to Earth,” Director Sullivan said, looking him in the eye.
John fell silent. The director’s words made his stomach sink. He had never considered the possibility of going home early. His mind was immediately flooded with painfully nostalgic memories of his home planet, memories he usually pushed down deep inside. In a sickening way, John realized that he'd grown accustomed to his life here. Living on Astroport helped him forget his suffering.
"Any other questions I can answer for you?” the director added impatiently.
John said nothing, a blank expression on his face.
“Hello?” Director Sullivan snapped, but her expression softened when John met her gaze. She paused for a long moment.
“You know we all miss her too, John. The medical team members still talk about how she was their favorite patient- to this day. But it’s been ten years. It’s time to let her go. You have an important duty at this corporation, and I need you to preform without hesitation. So John, can I count on you for this assignment, or do I need to find someone else?” she asked quietly.
John paused, considering her words carefully.
"You can count on me," he said.