The next couple of hours went by quickly. They changed into the uniforms provided, which turned out to be light stretchy jumpsuits. Sam marveled at feeling like an astronaut and pictured himself in a hero’s pose, a text bubble exclaiming he was “going where no human had gone before.”

The three settled into a content quiet, waiting for each new celestial body to announce itself. To start with, Mars was close enough in its orbit that they could just make it out, a distant pinprick of dusty red. They then skipped up and over the asteroid belt, which looked like weirdly oblong rocks in a peculiar state of disarray, scattered like a toy set spilled over.

Jupiter took Sam’s breath away. It wasn’t all that close to their route but still loomed in the distance, floating along like a beach ball bobbing in a dark sea. The mixture of reds, oranges, and whites in its outer atmosphere was gorgeously lush and vibrant against the backdrop of obsidian space surrounding it.

Nadia made a joke about the Great Red Spot looking like a pimple she had a couple of weeks ago. Jupiter was too grand for the moment to be ruined.

At that point, they had gone about two-thirds of the time allotted, and Sam did the math. “Mega, are we going to Saturn?”

“I will infer from your question that you are asking whether Sanctum is in an orbit of Saturn. I can confirm that it is. We will arrive in fifty-three minutes.”

Wow. Would they be living within striking distance of one of the solar system’s most notable and gorgeous features?

Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the windows in anticipation. Slowly, a faint dot grew into a blurry, pale almond, encircled by a glowing halo.

They drew closer and the planet in front of them positively gleamed, mysterious and otherworldly. There was a staggering number of different hues of brown, tan, and orange stratified among the clouds, swirling in jagged, disorienting patterns. He wanted to mix them all together like you would a root beer float and imagined himself tipping the planet over for a gulp of frothy goodness.

He next took in the rings. When he first glanced at them, they were whole and graspable, hula hoops in perpetual suspended motion. But as he stared at them, they dissolved into a multitude of tiny, glittering fragments of ice and rock, all held in concert while still visibly spinning. He could spend years picking out each object. His mind boggled.

Sam also spied an interesting variety of moons, most looking like sanitized hunks of lifeless rock, but a few stood out, including a two-toned walnut, a beautifully hazy orange marble, and a distinctly dark, weirdly shaped object. The ship crept toward the last one, and Sam realized it wasn’t a moon at all, but a manmade—Xarlogic-made, rather—structure.

His imagination had conjured plenty of possibilities for what his new home might look like, most drawn from classic science fiction stories. He realized how often human pop culture grafted other paradigms into their expectations for space stations: horror, westerns, war. None of those accurately captured what he saw in front of him. The slate-colored station was smooth, sleek, and shaped like a tetrahedron, though with rounded edges. A transparent glass pyramid occupied the sizable middle area, revealing a landscape of verdant green with a smattering of fuzzy blue, white, and brown. The design appeared unquestionably alien—self-assured, time-tested, and almost sensual in the way it hung against the backdrop of stars.

The station grew nearer and nearer, and they soon found themselves slipping into the barely visible opening of a hangar. The ship touched down noiselessly.

They’d arrived.

Mega announced, “We’ve arrived at Sanctum. Please exit the ship. Don’t forget your things.”

Sam peered down the extended ramp. The interior of the hangar revealed itself as nondescript and utilitarian, all surfaces gleaming and clean. This was it. Once they left the safe confines of the shuttle, any pretense of returning to Earth would be banished for good.

“You know, we’re about to record a lot of firsts. Whoever exits first will be the one whose name gets remembered in the history books.” Win stood to his side, his foot hovering over the top of the ramp.

“Rock, paper, scissors for it?” Sam made a fist and pounded his palm.

“Same time? We’ll be in the books together, though uh, my name is first alphabetically of course.” Win grinned.

Sam shook his head, then worked vigorously to place his feet on the station’s surface at the exact same moment as Win. Right as he did so, he heard a small gasp from Nadia behind him. A figure had joined them. At first glance, he recognized that the greeter was neither Xarlogic nor human. Thrill went up Sam’s spine. He was about to meet a second type of alien.

The newcomer stood on two feet, shorter than Sam but not by much. They had golden-brown, rough, segmented skin reminiscent of reptiles, as well as gaunt features highlighted by a pronounced forehead and cheekbones. A buzzcut of thin black hair and a utilitarian outfit of tanned hide gave the impression of a weathered journeyman.

“Welcome. Our first recruits. We couldn’t be more excited to have ya. My name is Wendellieixt, but can you call me Wendell. And oh, uh, the Editor instructed me to tell you I’m male since your language uses pronouns.” He spoke English languidly, the words acquiring a raspy bite as they left his throat. When pronouncing his name, he uttered a few syllables Sam couldn’t reproduce if he tried.

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He took a short bow. The three stood in surprised silence before Nadia put her hand out. “Hi, Wendell. I’m Nadia Azza. This is my brother, Sam, and our friend Win. We’re not normally a shy group, but we’re all in a bit of shock, you know?”

Wendell smiled, his teeth pointy and the color of ivory. “Of course, of course. Leaving your home and all that? You are most brave. Maybe a bit rash. But hey, I can’t blame you. Those Xarlogics sure know how to sell us lesser beings hard. I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?”

The fact that he let the occasional vowel drop caused Sam to wonder if he was trying to inculcate a more easygoing impression. His posture indicated casual friendliness, but Sam spotted him squeezing his hands together behind his back.

Win studied the new alien with clear enthusiasm. “What exactly do you do here? You don’t have a title like Tar and Mim?”

Wendell chuckled. “Oh no. Those titles are for followers of The Path only. Before you ask, I can’t tell you anything about it. It’s not my area, seeing as I’m the station engineer.” He pointed to a door behind him. “Besides myself, the station is fully staffed by droids. Cheap labor compared to hired hands. Plus, it makes it easy for Mega to keep everything running smoothly. But somebody’s gotta see to the mechanics of it all. I’m also helping out with guest liaisons so to speak, so if Mega ever can’t help you properly, come to me and I’ll get ya what you need.

“For now, follow me and let’s drop off your things at your quarters. Then I’ll give you the tour. It’ll be another day before more recruits arrive, so you’ll have the run of the place for a little while. Enjoy it while it lasts.” He made to wink but just scrunched his face in apparent discomfort. “Sorry, trying to employ what I learned about human social cues to make ya all feel more at home, but I don’t think I have the exact physiology to do that right.”

Sam felt a pang of sympathy for the alien. He seemed to be out of his element.

He beckoned them to follow. They entered a hallway made from the same dark substance as the outside of the station, giving the interior a cool organic feel. It was wide and brightly lit. They arrived at a sliding door with a glossy pad to the side.

“You three are lucky because you’ve got each other. Doubt anybody else coming will have any friends along. We arranged for you to share a living space together. The boss must like you.” He gave them a conspiratorial smile—much more naturally, maybe smiling was a universal expression—before flashing a gadget on his wrist over the pad.

“I’ll be giving you your access devices at the end of the tour. You’ll need them to enter any interior room in the station, so keep them on at all times, even while you’re sleeping. Should we get attacked by a tetractworm—you’ve heard of them, right? The ones that tunnel through space and take out space stations like this, all on their lonesome? When that happens, you don’t want to be scrounging around for your wristband.”

Sam’s face screwed up in worry. That couldn’t be a real thing, right? His concern was alleviated when Wendell laughed, a hoarse, dry sound, not unlike a lizard coughing. “Sorry, it’s a little joke I use to entertain myself when I’m around those new to traveling in space like yourself. The odds of one of those beasts making their way here is slim to none. They’re a real problem in more densely populated space but not out this far. You know, Tar tells me my jokes are terrible, but what does he know?”

The door slid open. Wendell held his hand out. “After you.”

Sam was the closest and took a step inside. A spacious great room stretched in front of him, with a sitting area and a kitchen. The furniture exuded comfortable sumptuousness. A hallway branched off to the side, presumably leading to their bedrooms.

Wendell pointed a clawed hand to a corner, where a desk was located, a transparent screen affixed to the wall above it. “That instrument there is similar to one of your computers. Win, you’ll be able to use it to keep up with your summer classes. Just be sure not to tell anybody still planet-bound where you are.”

Their contracts forbade them from spilling the news that they’d been recruited, other than with family. Win had pointed out to Tar that a legion of internet sleuths was closely monitoring everything that the Xarlogic did and would quickly piece together their identities. Tar had responded that “higher authorities” had stipulated “boilerplate language” when dealing with “pregalactic civilizations.” He wasn’t bothered by the prospect of the public figuring things out—the information just couldn’t come from them directly. Sam had found the whole exchange a bit alarming. The idea of the internet focusing on him was not a pleasant one. He didn’t want anybody to harass his family or friends. Tar had indicated he had methods to counter that possibility but hadn’t elaborated.

The most arresting feature of the apartment was another spectacular view of space. Right now, they faced Saturn directly. Just the rings on their own took up half the view. The design choice felt purposeful, as if Tar wanted to ensure they felt properly dazzled. If so, he’d succeeded.

His tone incredulous, Win asked, “This will be the view every day?”

Wendell replied, “Oh yes. I’d advise all of ya though to be careful. Being in space has a way of playing tricks on our minds.” He gazed out the window, his expression contemplative. “The Xarlogics, you know they have a reverence for space. Field of night, they call it. Ager nox. Tar and Mim, what they probably haven’t told you yet is that they can live forever, should they choose.”

Sam’s mouth went dry. They’re immortal?

“That’s right, the Xarlogics genetically engineered themselves out of death. But their brains can’t always handle living that long. It does funny things to them. They engage in more and more complicated schemes, anything to keep their minds active. When the strain becomes unbearable, some of them, well, they rip themselves apart in a burst of misplaced glory.” Wendell shook his head in sympathy, even as his lips curled in revulsion. “Others, they silently break. Morning comes, and you look to see if any ships have departed overnight. They never come back. The night takes them, as the expression goes.”

“How awful,” Win murmured. Sam turned away from the view and took a deep, calming breath.

A minute stretched by before Wendell shook himself. “Be forewarned, the universe will present you with many such choices. All good things come with a price. But returning to more practical matters, if you ever need a break from the view, you can use the panel on the wall there to make the windows opaque.”

He demonstrated, and the view disappeared. Soft lighting flickered on, creating a warm and comfortable atmosphere, contrasting with the cold vacuum they’d been observing. The tension that Wendell’s tale had leavened within Sam unspooled. Whatever might await them outside in the darkness, they’d be safe here.