All night, the only thing I thought about was the message on the clock. And if it turned out to be a simple error or even a message from someone else… it would break my heart. I built up too much of a scenario in my head already. I knew it was Chase, and he was coming to rescue me.

But then…

Did I want to go back to Earth?

The question had been doing somersaults through my brain for hours. If a portal back to Earth opened right now, would I walk through it?

I missed my parents, but only in a ‘I’ll never see them ever again’ kind of way. I didn’t have any particularly strong desire to see them soon. If our next meeting was in two years, that would be fine, but my body yearned for a next meeting to at least be on the horizon. Knowing that I couldn’t see them was no different than both of them being dead.

And I truly missed my friends. They were good people, and they were my people. We did so much together. Sure, I had made some friends on Archon-6 already, but that was different. The friendships here felt like friends you met at summer camp. Some of them might pan out, but the vast majority never would. You’d spend an awesome week with them, practically attached at the hip to your new friend group, and then everyone would pile into their respective minivans and drive off in opposite directions, never to be seen again.

Maybe I just needed to give everyone here some more time. It had only been a couple weeks, after all.

I tried as best I could to purge the thoughts from my head and finally drag myself out of bed. I was exhausted. My eyes were blurry, and my feet hurt just from standing. Not to mention my back felt like I had been taking baseballs to it all night long. Getting older sucked. I brushed my teeth and got ready for the day in darkness, then checked my Hiveboard for the day’s schedule: Independent Study. An off day.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t be much good in a mission, and without a tall coffee drenched in caramel, I probably wouldn’t be any good in a classroom either. I made my way to the cafeteria on floor six and quickly punched in a coffee order on the tablet. A few minutes later, a thirty-six ounce hot latte rose up from the floor. It was alright, certainly no Caramel Ribbon Crunch from Starbucks back home, but it would do the trick. For food, I typically wasn’t too much of a breakfast person when I was so tired, but I figured an English muffin and jelly would be easy enough to replicate that I wouldn’t be able to taste a difference.

I was wrong. The English muffin tasted like old drywall, and the jelly that was supposed to be cherry was clearly just a congealed conglomerate of chemicals. I ordered a bagel with jalapeno cream cheese, and that was much better. As I ate and sipped my monstrous coffee, I used the same tablet with the food menus to call Crunch.

“Hey, what’s going on, Stephanie?”

Crunch’s face came into view, and judging by the background, he was in the Hive watching battles on the big screen.

“Hey, you remember that offer from my first day? To go see earth?”

Crunch smiled. “Everyone asks sooner or later. But brace yourself. A lot of weird shit happens up there.”

A shudder ran the length of my spine. I knew it was going to be an overwhelming experience, but I wanted to do it nonetheless. “Yeah… I want to go. How does that work? Can I schedule a taxi or something?”

“A taxi? I mean, you can, but a taxi ride all the way to Earth and back would be like… four grand, at least. Usually I don’t mind paying for the fuel on someone’s first flight back, but you just got a boatload of credits from my team, so you’re buying. Meet me down in the lobby in a bit. I’ll grab our pilot.”

I finished my coffee and took the transporter back to the first floor. As before, a seemingly endless wave of activity permeated the area. People came and went in droves. Other guild members dressed for battle relaxed in lounge areas, and the smell from Sal’s was as intoxicating as ever. It was like the garlic and olive oil somehow penetrated my brain—but maybe they actually did. Gorb could transmit emotion the same way, so who was I to say that Sal himself couldn’t transmit food psychically? It made sense, sort of.

Thankfully, Crunch showed up before I could waste any more time trying to figure out the logistics of mentally transmitted breadsticks. Our pilot was an alien species who kind of looked like a goblin from an epic fantasy film, though taller and more humanoid. She was dextrous and lithe, clearly feminine, though she lacked hair. Somehow, the shaved head worked. I knew I could never pull it off if the roles were reversed. I recognized her from the staging area before our mission together, though we hadn’t spoken.

“Good job with us, Med,” she said by way of greeting. Much to my shock, she had no alien accent whatsoever. “My name’s Arina, like Sabrina but missing some letters. I hear you want to see Big Blue.”

I shook her hand, and unlike Gorb’s, it was completely dry. “I—”

Crunch cut in with a smile. “It’s alright, everyone asks. The green skin is her flaw.”

Arina smiled and gave a slight bow. “I’m not an alien. Born and raised in Memphis, Tennessee. I used to be a lounge singer for a sixties motown band. Then, one day, I woke up here. Yeah, no car ride for me. So far I’m the only one without the fancy car and the robot lady. No idea how that happened. Maybe I’m just special. Anyway, I picked the ailment flaw, and I have a chronic disease that turns my skin more and more green the longer I’m here.”

“Shit, that doesn’t sound nearly as bad as mine.”

“The spoon? Crunch filled me in on the details. Hey, maybe you could get a job stirring the marinara at Sal’s.” She laughed and started leading us to the front door.

“I mean, it just doesn’t seem fair,” I said, though I felt like an ass. Comparing disabilities wasn’t a quick way to make friends.

Arina laughed again and shook her head. “Oh, the new ones never change, do they, Crunch?”

“Certainly not.”

“You see, the whole skin turning green thing isn’t everything. According to the highest level Medics in the League, my life expectancy is also diminished. I might see fifty, maybe sixty. Not much chance beyond that. And it’ll be a slow, painful death when it happens.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. So the spoon doesn’t seem too bad.” She held the door, and I stepped outside for the first time since arriving on Archon-6. It was morning, and the sun overhead was very clearly different. Archon-6 was in the same galaxy, but that didn’t mean solar system, so the sun here was not the same as before. Instead of bright yellow and nearly impossible to look at directly, it was smaller and white, and the light was far more gentle on my eyes.

“Take it all in,” Crunch said. “Bryan’s Station has a lot to offer. Tons of other guilds, plenty of shopping and entertainment, and more than a few seedier districts where you wouldn’t want to get caught alone at night. Half these guilds would pay top dollar to grab a Medic from the League and slit her throat in a back alley.”

“Holy shit. I… I hadn’t thought about getting killed outside the battles. That’s fucking terrifying.”

Arina was a little more reassuring. “It isn’t as dangerous as Crunch likes to think. He’s just paranoid. And he also can’t leave the steps, so this is where we leave him behind. Goodbye, Crunch!” She gave him an exaggerated smile and then rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun. Don’t get lost. We have a mission tomorrow,” he called, though neither of us paid him much attention.

Arina led me down a series of streets and pointed out a few of her favorite local establishments. As it turned out, Bryan’s Station was much like a moderately sized city back on Earth, though much more high tech. There were bars, restaurants, plenty of guildhalls, sports facilities, shopping centers, and so much more. Certain businesses, however, were distinctly lacking. I couldn’t go anywhere in Ann Arbor without seeing personal injury lawyer ads, and Archon-6 appeared completely devoid of the entire profession. Hospitals and doctor offices were also missing. And without television entertainment or movies, all the ads we saw were for guilds and high-dollar battles coming up. Cars, as well, were extremely rare, though many of the businesses were connected via transporter.

I pointed to a soccer pitch. “It feels a little weird that people play soccer here, right?”

Arina shrugged. “It gives you something to do between missions. Keep in mind that the League is the best. Better than the best. A lot of the smaller guilds only have a few members and no funds. What else are they supposed to do?”

“Ah. Good point.”

Another missing aspect of life on the alien planet was residential. There were no apartment complexes or neighborhoods. No houses tucked between the businesses or perched atop rowdy local bars. Everyone lived in a guildhall.

“So what happens if you get kicked out of a guild?” I asked. “Where do those people live?”

Arina stopped and looked me in the eyes, her demeanor suddenly serious. “You do not want to get kicked out. You’re a Medic, so you’ll probably find another guild before long. But being guildless is a quick ticket to death. Look around. No farms, no animals. Nothing to eat without credits. Sure, you could get a job waiting tables or stripping, but they’re all guild-run establishments. All the food and drink comes from the guilds. Unless you’re in a guild, there just isn’t much you can do to survive.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Waiting tables and stripping? Those are the only jobs? Seems a little sexist.”

Arina scoffed. “There’s a whore house not far from here if that’s more your speed, but I recommend earning your credits as a Medic.”

“Noted.”

“One thing that Crunch got right about the danger: don’t go out alone. Actually, you aren’t really supposed to leave by yourself, but that’s more of an unspoken rule.” She gestured back to the guildhall that was now just a vague outline among the clouds. “If you have to leave by yourself, take a goon. They’re robots, and they kick ass when they need to. That’s why so many stand guard at the front. Well, and they’re guarding the front, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I hit the brothel later tonight.”

Fortunately, Arina shared at least some of my humor. “You don’t have enough credits for any but the most homely of alien prostitutes. Let me know how it goes for you.”

“Oh god, sex with an alien. I hadn’t even thought of it.”

We approached a starport that bore the Hanseatic League name and all of its branding, and more goons were perched in front as security. Arina waved her membership card, and the glass doors slid open for us. “Honestly, some of them aren’t bad. And before you ask, none of the aliens can get you pregnant.”

I hadn’t expected Arina’s response, and it took me by surprise. “You’ve… fucked an alien? Like Gorb?”

“Oh no, not like Gorb,” she answered with a laugh. “Much cuter. And more verbal. I like the loud ones, if you know what I mean.”

Thoughts of the green woman screwing an alien with four arms and hair covering its entire body filled my head, and I desperately wanted them gone. “Alright, moving on. You, uh, own a ship or something?”

Arina keyed in a series of characters on a small pad next to a door, and then a set of frosted glass doors retracted to reveal a small starship with two engines. “The payment plan is pure robbery at eleven percent interest, but she’s mine. Luckily, piloting can be pretty lucrative. People need to move from planet to planet, and there aren’t any transporters to do it yet.”

We boarded from the rear, and I couldn’t help but think of Star Wars. It didn’t help that the ship was painted with the same shade of yellow used on the Naboo fighters. The whole thing essentially resembled a small commercial plane from earth, though the engines were far larger, and there was no cockpit. The only windows were on the very bottom. A half-dome large enough for five or six people at once protruded from the bottom.

Inside, the ship was built more for function than comfort. The command center consisted of a dozen or more screens and input panels, and there were seats for two. The ship had a small bathroom, a little clear-fronted refrigerator for drinks, and then the bulk of the vehicle was comprised of passenger seats.

“Come on. You can sit next to me,” Arina said, patting the other chair.

I took my seat and tried not to touch anything. Arina, on the other hand, touched just about every button she could reach. Before long, a voice from somewhere in the starport was giving Arina directions much like an air traffic controller, and then we lifted off. The vertical takeoff was smooth and quiet, nearly silent.

“The engines pointed forward. My nerdy friend Chase liked to rant that none of the space shows got it right, and you need engines everywhere. How’s it work?” I loved the idea of figuring it all out and then reporting back to Chase that he was just wrong about everything. It would eat him up.

“Your friend was right,” Arina said, bursting my bubble. “The main engines just get us out of atmosphere. They’re basically rockets. Everything in atmosphere is done with small gravity propulsion generators. And once we get into space, we just pick a direction and blast. Again, the engines are just rockets. And we never really come to a complete stop in space. The distances are so massive that it never matters much. When we need to turn, we angle and fire. We take long, curving routes to make sightseeing trips like this. One speed, and we never stop until we’re back. Make sense?”

“Chase will be thrilled to know his theory was correct. And I don’t exactly follow, but I did watch The Martian, so I think it makes sense.”

“The Martian, is that a sequel to E.T. or something?” she asked, banking the craft slightly, though I couldn’t see anything but the city beneath us.

“When did you wake up here?” I asked. “The Martian was huge. Mega blockbuster. You couldn’t have missed it.”

She let out a sigh. “The year was 1999. It has been… a long time. I know I missed a lot. I… still think about it sometimes. I miss Earth too, you know. All my friends and family.”

“Oh wow. You’ve missed so much. So many good movies.”

“And so many tragedies,” she added, her voice heavy. “Crunch told me about 9/11, the wars, the nuclear disaster in Japan, Disney buying Star Wars from George Lucas—in a lot of ways, being here on Archon-6 is a blessing. We don’t have those things.”

“Yeah… I get it. I’ve thought the same thing.”

The ship gained altitude rapidly, and even the tallest buildings of Bryan’s Station faded from view. It was strange looking over my shoulder at the viewport in the floor behind me.

“And apparently O.J. went to jail, though I’ve been told conflicting stories.”

We broke through the cloud cover, and whatever Arina said was lost. The massive engines on either side of the fuselage roared to life, and I was captivated. The frosty blue clouds melted away, replaced by dazzling black streaked with other space traffic coming into and leaving Archon-6. Then the planet itself started to get small. All of it happened so fast.

“I always wanted to be an astronaut back on Earth,” Arina said. It sounded like her voice was as far away as the guildhall. “Ever since I was a little girl. Now I can fly a spaceship off the planet virtually whenever I want. Speaking of which, the trip to Earth runs about twenty-five hundred credits, but I’ll let this one slide.”

Finally, I broke my concentration on the viewport and turned back to the instrument panels, my eyes wide with disbelief. “It’s incredible. I… I can’t even describe it.”

Arina unbuckled her seatbelt and stood. “We’re on auto pilot now. You can move around.”

Not too far away by astronomical standards, several other planets were slowly coming into view. Once we were far enough above the planet to see those other planets, all the space traffic was too small to register on anything but Arina’s instruments.

“There are League guards all over down on Bryan’s Station. Do we have to worry about other people in space too?” I asked. The thought of being instantly blown to pieces like the pilot I had watched on the Hiveboard was a little unnerving.

Arina shook her head. “Not often. Tensions rise sometime, and then you have to watch out, but the space around Archon-6 is generally safe. Honestly, the Hanseatic League is so powerful that all our rivals stick to the programmed battles. Picking a real fight with the biggest dog in the junkyard isn’t a smart move.”

A huge freighter came into view from behind Archon-6. I only saw it because it was either entering or exiting the atmosphere, and the violent collision of steel with air flared like a bright fireball. “Crunch said it takes a few hours to get back into view of Earth,” I casually remarked. Traveling so far—to another solar system—in a few hours was incredible. I didn’t know much about space, but even I knew that.

“One of the alien races has excellent space travel,” Arina explained. “It wasn’t a human invention. Something do with gravitons and bosons that none of us pilots really understand. I just fly the ship; I don’t have to know how to build an engine.”

“Yeah, that’s way beyond my skill set.”

Before long, all the planets were out of view, and everything was pitch black. Only the twinkle of stars, and not many of them, punctured the otherwise silky black expanse.

Being in such an unknown environment, it was hard to process time. It simultaneously felt like hours flew by and somehow no time passed at all. My mind wasn’t built to process such experiences.

“Welcome back to the one and only, the original solar system. Still no real name for it. On our current route, you won’t be able to see much until Saturn. Jupiter is on the wrong side, but Mars should come into view also. And then the big blue one.”

“I feel like I recognize the sun,” I said, though it sounded lame. “It just looks… familiar.”

“It is. You saw it every day for decades. Your mind knows.”

Saturn came into view not much longer, its rings on brilliant display. I was glued to the circular viewport beneath the ship.

“You’ll see Earth in a few minutes. Get ready.”

“And why aren’t we allowed to go back?” I asked. Being so close, it felt like a useless rule.

“Strict treaty. Don’t even think about it. And to help enforce it, the atmospheric shields on all our ships are specifically equipped to detect the nitrogen and oxygen content in Earth’s thermosphere and detonate the ship. And another one to blow your mind: the first moon landing actually was faked. They staged the whole thing, and not just Apollo 11 either. Apollo 16 was the first human moon landing. You learn all sorts of things when you have access to so much alien technology.”

The Earth and moon were gradually getting larger and larger in the viewport. Squeezed in next to me, Arina pointed to what looked like a bit of space junk off in the distance. “You ever hear of the Black Knight?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Watch that little speck of debris. You can actually see it better from this angle since the sun reflects off the solar panels on the back. That’s as close as anyone gets to Earth now. The Black Knight is a robot sentinel that watches for anyone non-Earth ships—like us—that get to close. If they do, it hits them with an EMP and then pokes a nice little hole through their fuselage with a high energy laser. No one on Earth ever sees a thing.”

It was hard to make out the fleck of black unless it was directly above Earth’s creamy white clouds. Honestly the whole thing was hard to comprehend. We got closer and closer, and I could make out individual continents and landmasses. It was all so hard to comprehend that my thoughts turned to mush.

“Everybody in the world needs to do this,” I stammered. “The covering of blue… the sheet… the blanket… Before, it was like looking into blackness, into black ugliness, and then you look down, there’s blue down there and black up here… it almost feels like death.” My words didn’t make any sense, but I didn’t care. I had to get them out.

Arina let out a heavy sigh. She had her arms crossed on the glass, her eyes glued to the scene no different than mine. “I’ve seen it a dozen times, but it never changes. My first trip to space was supposed to be a celebration. Instead, it felt like a funeral. I had just unlocked my off-world piloting skills, and there was a huge party back at the League when I got home, but I just felt sad. I still do. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. And I hope I never recover.”

We laid there on the viewport glass in silence for what felt like eternity, just staring at the planet we both used to call home.

The autopilot shot us clear past the Earth, and then we started turning back the way we came for the return trip. Watching the blue planet fade away in the distance filled me with grief. The only thing in my life that remotely compared was the memory of taking my childhood dog to the vet to be put down. In both situations, I was completely helpless. No action I took, no matter what, could change the horrific outcome.

On the whole flight back, all I could do was cry.