Our Place in Space

Part 1: The Email

Today is the day Johnny Boyd finds out if his dream of going to space has come true.

At 4:00pm on Friday, April 17, 2025, an email listing the names of GE Galactica's first crew to Mars is scheduled to arrive in his inbox with just enough time to read it before the office closes for the weekend.

3:44.

Johnny drums his fingers on the desk in a desperate rhythm, ignoring his assigned space probe's data coming in from orbit. Temperatures and particle readings rain down his screen, and while Johnny sees them, he never takes his focus from the corner of his computer screen. The corner where the message box will appear to tell him he has received a new email.

"Hey," a voice startles him from his trance. His best friend Alan stares at him over the top of his cubicle, steaming coffee in hand despite the late hour.

Johnny is certain that with the amount of coffee Alan drinks and his incredible productivity, that he must never sleep. He must be a robot, Johnny thinks. Especially since Alan is also up for a seat to Mars, but doesn't appear in any way to be worried.

"You still watching the clock?" Alan asks.

Johnny calms his tapping fingers by brushing them through his blond hair. The gesture gives him away. "No," he lies.

Alan laughs. "Yes, you are." He steps around the partition to enter Johnny's cubicle. "You're going to drive yourself crazy with that. Just focus on your work, and before you know it, it will be in your inbox."

"What about you?" Johnny asks. "Why aren't you working right now? Don't you have virtual training programs to create?"

As much as he enjoys his friend's company, Johnny can't handle Alan's nonchalant personality right now. He wants to be tense, he wants to tap his fingers against the desk and shake his legs with anxiety. He has to get this energy out somehow.

Alan smiles the same sneaky smile he did just before he dropped his "I didn't get the job act" in his and Johnny's last week of college.

"You mean the virtual training programs I just finished working on, because I was focused at my desk today?" he asks.

Johnny rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so." He tries his best not to glance back to the corner of his computer screen. 3:45. Only 3:45.

"Seriously, man. You've got to stop it with that," Alan says, and he leans over Johnny's keyboard and turns off the monitor with a quick jab.

"Hey, I was working," Johnny protests, but Alan quickly scoffs.

"No you weren't. C'mon, let's just wait in the break room until the announcement goes out. Then and only then should you be allowed to look back at that computer screen."

Johnny wishes it were appropriate to punch Alan in the gut, like he used to back at MIT whenever Alan would get an A on a test without studying. Johnny feels like that same jealous freshmen all over again. Alan is calm. Alan has the solution. Johnny is a mess of emotion who must be lured away from his desk.

A burning coal of nerves settles in the pit of Johnny's stomach: "What if Alan is chosen and not me?" he wonders. However, all he communicates is, "Fine," as he allows himself to be pulled from his chair.

On the way to the break room, Johnny glances over at the head of GE Galactica's office. WIth the door closed and the blinds shut, the boss's office is more of a secret than a room. Dr. Stafford, Johnny imagines, is probably mulling over candidate names still, trying to choose the most qualified ten astronauts to be among the first to live in the atmospheric containment colony GE Galactica finished constructing last year.