LEO
TONIGHT IS THE SPACE CAMP VERSION OF THE LAST SUPPER: our last dinner before the Final Six are unveiled tomorrow. The mood in the cafeteria is how I imagine soldiers must feel on the eve of deployment—only in this case, the war we’re afraid of returning to is at home. If I thought the nerves and anticipation were extreme leading up to the first elimination, the tension in the air tonight could power an entire city. Especially mine. Not only do I need to make the final draft, I need to make it with her. The only way I can get through tomorrow is if not just one, but two prayers are answered.
Naomi and I sit at a table with Sydney, Minka, Dev, and Henri, all of us too anxious to swallow a bite of food. I glance at Dr. Takumi on and off throughout the hour as I make my decision. And then, when he moves to the door at the end of dinner, I jump out of my seat, catching him just as he exits.
“Dr. Takumi, can I talk to you?” I blurt out. “It will only take a second.”
He arches an eyebrow. “What is it, Leonardo?”
“I just wanted to say that . . . there are two people here who were born for this mission. I know I have the underwater skills to get us through the ice crust of Europa. And training on the same team as Naomi Ardalan has convinced me that she has the brains to keep us alive in space.” I take a deep breath. “This mission is what I’ve been living for, ever since the day I was drafted. I know it’s your decision, but I just wanted to—to promise you: Naomi and I are both the right choice.”
A long pause follows and I wait, every muscle in my body tensing, while Dr. Takumi gives me an inscrutable look. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says finally. “Goodnight, Leonardo.”
He turns away, leaving me wondering, hoping, that my plea made the right impact.
It’s here. The morning of the announcement. The moment all of us have been simultaneously dreading and waiting for. My stomach’s been turning somersaults all night from nerves, and as I glance in the mirror while getting ready, I notice the dark circles under my eyes, the sleep-deprived pallor of my skin. Lark had instructed us to show up “camera-ready,” but I’m barely thinking about the press and the public, who we’ll be facing for the first time in weeks. All I can think about is the impending decision.
The finalists reconvene at the top of the Hab-floor staircase, and as soon as Naomi spots me, she cuts through the others till she’s by my side.
“I feel sick,” she moans. “I can’t take this kind of nerves.”
I hold her gaze, aching to touch her, to comfort her with more than just words. “I know. I feel the same. But it—it’ll be over soon. And hopefully we’ll be celebrating.”
A hush comes over the finalists, and Naomi and I turn to see Dr. Takumi and General Sokolov striding toward us.
“Good morning,” Dr. Takumi greets us. “Is everyone ready?”
Of course we’re not. But we all nod and follow the two of them into the elevator, down to the official entrance that we haven’t seen since arrival day—a lifetime ago. Stepping off the elevator, we can hear the same marching band from that first day, too. They’re playing “The Star-Spangled Banner” as Dr. Takumi pushes through the doors to the ISTC front steps, the rest of us following in his wake. Naomi and I move slightly closer as we walk together into the roar of the crowd, the two of us blinking against the blaze of flashbulbs.
General Sokolov instructs us to line up on the steps, behind the makeshift podium and microphone set up for Dr. Takumi. I stand between Naomi and Ana Martinez, and as Dr. Takumi steps up to the microphone and the crowd quiets, Naomi brushes her fingertips against mine. In this moment, with tensions running so high, we’re both forgetting our unspoken rule: to never touch in public, never give ourselves away.
“Are you all ready to discover the names and faces of the Final Six?” Dr. Takumi shouts out, pumping up a crowd that doesn’t need any more energizing. “Here we go!”
Naomi turns to me. “I’m too afraid to watch,” she whispers.
“Me, too. Just look at me,” I murmur back. “It’ll be okay.”
“Your lieutenant commander is Dev Khanna from India!”
The crowd erupts while the band launches into the opening notes of the Indian national anthem. I smile to myself, happy for Dev. He’s one of the good guys here.
“The mission medical officer is Sydney Pearle from Canada! Copilot is Jian Soo of China!”
I try to keep my eyes on Naomi, to stay calm, as the terror builds within me. It’s down to the wire now. If we’re not among these last three names . . .
“Our science officer is Minka Palladin from Ukraine. And the underwater specialist—”
I stand up straighter as Naomi grips my hand tighter.
“—is Beckett Wolfe of the United States of America.”
No. No.
My vision blurs; all the blood rushes to my head. This can’t be happening. He didn’t take my spot—he couldn’t have.
“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” I hear Naomi say, looking up at me desperately. “We’ll go home together, we’ll find another way to help the Final Six. You’ll meet my family, and we can have the kind of life—”
She stops suddenly as the unthinkable happens.
“Last but not least, our communications and technology specialist is Naomi Ardalan, also from the United States!”
I want to shout, to scream—but I can’t make a sound. Naomi’s legs buckle beneath her, and she grips my arm, my own horror reflected in her eyes.
This can’t be real. We can’t be separated forever, she can’t go to Europa while I stay behind, with nothing left but her memory. It’s like losing my family all over again. Just when my world seemed to be opening up, all hope is gone.
Just like that.