I sat in my wheel chair, invitational packet in my lap, staring out at the stars outside my cabin's window. It was hard to believe that I was here aboard the Fury's Call, a private spaceship tastefully outfitted and apparently set up to shuttle VIPs of some sort to a new frontier world. I looked back down at the invitational packet and wondered again what had inspired anyone to write letters of recommendation for me to explore a frontier world. I was confined to a chair! What were they going to have me do, analyze samples? Labratory work was by and large an able-bodied person's place, and I doubted their labs were set up for my chair. 

         There was a faint bump as the ship landed on the moonbase, and I had little doubt a crewman would come out momentarily to get me. I wedged the packet against one side and pulled my small luggage onto my lap. There was a small keychain dangling from the handle, and my heart lurched again as I saw Camilla's face on the locket at the end of the keychain. I didn't have long to wait before the chime of the door sounded, and shortly after, the door opened to show two of the Fury's crewman. 

                "Dr. Sohner, we are here to help you disembark," said the first crewman as he stepped into the small suite. He walked behind me and took control of my chair as his fellow crewman came in and grabbed my other luggage. I was quickly and efficiently bundled down the corridors to the airlock, which was now open. As we reached the lock, we were met by two other men, both of them dressed in the dark blue trousers and brilliant white shirts of a uniform that I assumed was the moonbase crew's uniform. 

               "Dr. Sohner, I presume," said one of the men, bowing slightly. "It's an honor to meet you. We're here to help you onto the moonbase and to escort you where you need to go. We're so excited to get you onboard the project."

                I nodded as I watched the crew switch out with the two moonbase personnel, and soon enough I was being wheeled down the tunnel and into the moonbase. I was escorted right past the immigration queue and straight to a very futuristic-looking machine. The machine looked like a doorway with a metallic octopus perched over top of the doorway. 

                 "That is an interesting looking machine," I noted to the crewmen with me. "I don't believe I've ever seek one of those before. What does it do?"

                 "Oh, this is an amazing machine," one of the crewmen said, excited. "This is our newest style of scanner. Each of the arms has a different type of scanner. This thing will find viruses, bacteria, illnesses and diseases of all sorts, and isn't in any way bothered by wheelchairs, casts, cybernetics, genetic biomods, and anything else you can think of! Check this out!"

                 The crewman set my luggage to one side and stepped into the scanner, standing on a blue circle in the middle of the doorway. The scanner started to move its arms up and down, from above the crewman's head to his feet. The arms moved around and somehow missed each other as they moved past each other. There was a loud ding and a voice came from a speaker overhead.

                 "Scan complete. No new issues, Security 3 Jonah Goman."

                 "Thanks Ceri," the crewman said, stepping out the other side. "Dr. Sohner is here. We're going to have you scan him next!" 

                  "Welcome, Dr. Sohner. I am looking forward to discussing many subjects with you," Ceri said, as I was wheeled up to the scanner. The scanning was quick, and soon enough I was wheeled out.

                   "No health threats detected, Dr. Sohner," Ceri pronounced. "I have more information for you, but it is private and I hope to discuss it with you later."

                   "Eh....sure, Ceri," I told the voice. "Looking forward to it."

                    I was wheeled onward, down several hallways until I was pushed into a door into a small room with a viewscreen on one wall. There was a promotional video of some sort playing as I was parked at the table in the room and the crewmen silently left. I sat watching for a time as the video scrolled through different environments that I assumed were computer generated, as they looked too good to be true. It was some time later that a man entered the room, addressing me. 

                    "Welcome to Paradise Moonbase," the weedy-looking man said, his smile looking a bit.....greasy. "I am Frederick Roberts, one of the briefers for Project Pandora. I cannot tell you how honored we are to have you here."

                     "And where, exactly, is here?" I asked. "I have the initial briefing packet, but it was a little light on details."

                     " I would be happy to go over that with you. You will, of course, be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement before any actual classified material will be provided," the weedy looking man said, brandishing the clipboard.

                     "And this is all above board," I asked, skeptically. "Project Pandora seems like something of an unattainable dream, if the information from the packet is to be believed."

                     "I suppose that depends on your definition of a dream," a voice from behind me said. I turned to look to find one of the most famous faces of modern space exploration standing in the doorway of the small room. "I'll take it from here, Roberts." The weedy looking man bowed his head and left, shutting the door behind him.

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                     "It's beautiful, isn't it," Graham Maxwell said, gesturing to the promotional video on the screen, which was apparently set on a continuous loop.

                      "It certainly is," I said, shrugging. "I'll admit that I don't really understand why you brought me all the way out here to pitch Project Pandora, though. I mean, it is an absolutely gorgeous planet and all, but you can see my limitations, right? Why would you bring me all the way out here?"

                      "Listen, Alexander," the elderly man said, sitting down at the small table. "I would love to tell you all about why we -why you- are out here, but I need this to be a secret. If you sign the nondisclosure agreement, I will personally explain every facet of the experiment. We also don't intend for you to merely be a researcher. We want you to be part of the experiment as well, and I will see to your treatments myself. If you prefer, I will personally guarantee that you are not obligated to anything but silence if you so desire."

                    I glanced back at the presentation briefly, but quickly returned to the clipboard, signing my name with my customary sloppy scrawl, handing the whole thing back to Mr. Maxwell.

                    "Excellent," the old man said. "Now we can really dig into the Project. Project Pandora was actually conceived by the existence of Eden. Eden was deemed perfect when we first saw scanner images of it. It was perfect in every single metric we measured it against. We thought it was too good to be true. As it turned out when the first exploratory ship got here, it was too good to be true."

                     The old man reached over and typed a quick command into the computer keyboard, and I flinched as the peaceful images of a paradise disappeared, replaced by views of a medical facility, with images of people writhing in pain. Their skin was extremely red, and I watched in horror as they fell silent, their bodies literally steaming.

                      "Eden has a complex mix of viruses, bacteria, and fungi that infuse the earth, air, and water of the planet. Every plant and animal down there is somehow immune to the toxic mix, but every living thing we sent down there, including the first exploratory team and the first recovery team, died from a fever that literally started the bodies steaming as they cooked themselves."

                      "What does that have to do with Project Pandora," I asked curiously.

                       "That is what Project Pandora ultimately is about," the old man said, reaching under his shirt and pulling out a vial attached to a necklace. The inside of the vial contained an odd looking liquid that was bright amber at the top, brilliant blue halfway down, and a bright green at the bottom.

                       "This is both a miracle and a nightmare made one," he said, pulling the necklace off and handing it to me. "We synthesized that toxic blend of crap and created the perfect antidote....and a veritable miracle drug. The drugs contained in that vial can cure anything wrong with a person. They'll repair mental acuity, they can heal wounds, they can restore damaged organs.....they can even repair the nervous system," he said, glancing pointedly at my wheelchair.

                       "So, what does...." I began.

                       "So what does that have to do with Eden?" he interrupted me. "This drug was made by synthesizing and purifying the air on Eden. As it turns out, taking this drug, in small doses, over time, gives you immunity to the air of Eden. Unfortunately, it also is something that changes you forever. You'll never again be able to do without it for more than a short time."

                       "This is the only way mankind will ever see the surface of Eden, and if they land, they'll never leave," Graham interrupted. "But looking at the video, who wouldn't want to live on Eden?"

                      "Yeah," I said, thinking back to the promotional video. "But if it was really that simple, you'd have people lining up out the door to come here, even if it was a one-way trip."

                       "There is an unfortunate side effect," the elderly man said, wincing. "The potion changes you to be perfectly adapted to be who you truly are. This potion will give you the body that your heart desires, the body that will bring you true and lasting happiness."

                       "But...." I prompted when he fell silent.

                       "But be warned," he said, seeming to grow older as he sat there. "Don't expect beauty. I've seen men become literal monsters from the darkness in their hearts. Happy monsters, but monsters nevertheless."

                        He reached over and typed in a command on the computer once again. The screen flashed by dozens of shots. Winged people soared above chasms driven deep into the planet's surface. People with fish-like features and aquatic adaptations swam through brilliant blue seas. Centaurs galloped across plains, while elves jumped through the branches of forest trees and dwarves emerged from mines, covered in dirt and carrying sacks of precious metals and gems. Cat people and dog people led tribal lives. And then the darker images appeared. Tentacled horrors bit the seafolk in half. Giant mutated birds swooped down on the winged people, and the centaurs galloped into an ambush, breaking their legs in holes and tripping over tripwires. Giant spider/people hybrids ensnared the elves. Dragons fought dragons. Unicorns fought basilisks.

                      "Project Pandora is confined to Eden for three reasons," he said. "Firstly, and most importantly, without regular infusions of the Eden Mist, as we call the virus/bacteria/fungal mix down there, the person will die."

                      "Secondly, if the Eden Mist is accidentally transferred to another planet or even to a space-going vessel, it will infect the whole thing. For the sake of the species, we do four leg separation, with each quarantine lasting three months. This absolutely ensures that Eden Mist remains on Eden. The planet is under permanent quarantine. That quarantine is enforced by automated turrets and Earth fleets."

                        "And thirdly," he said, looking at me. "Eden teaches us exactly how much we don't know about the universe. We've made bioscience leaps that have catapulted mankind both bioscientifically and technologically by hundreds of years. I won't lie, Alexander. I think you would be a wonderful addition to our research team on the surface, but it is a commitment you can't just back out of. Once you are down there, you are down there permanently. Do you want to do this, even knowing what you know now?"

                        I looked at the images on the screen. Images that I recognized as indigenous life flashed across the screen. I turned back to the old man and nodded, smiling slightly.

                        "Very well, Mr. Maxwell, you can count me in."