Her father came home just after dark. His face was ruddier and hollow now; he had been healthy, even handsome, when he had worked as a manager at an electronics company.
“Let’s grill these up until no one is hungry,” he said as he put a pile of fish on the table. “Let’s ask the neighbors over too. They have not seen Aki in years.”
“They’ll smell the grilling meat and come running whether we tell them or not,” Aki said. “Let’s get the coals going first.”
The three of them sat down at the picnic table. Aki’s parents asked everything they could think of about the Ring. None of the questions were tough. The subtext of the conversation was clear, even though Aki had not told them yet. Aki smiled when she considered the idea that this discussion might not be any worse than the nights when they had encouraged her to get married or move back home.
“When are the Americans sending up that spaceship?” her father finally asked.
“It’s not American. It’s an international collaboration, but being run by NASA,” Aki said, remembering that the dinner conversation was atypical after all. If she was going to break the news, now was the best opportunity she was going to get.
“Actually, since you brought it up… I was afraid to say anything. I am going to be on it.”
“On it?” her mother asked. It was obvious that she did not comprehend.
“Yes. Aboard the spaceship. When it goes up. I found out on Thursday that I have been selected.”
She showed them the letter. It was in English. They did not understand the letter any better than they understood when she told them out loud in Japanese. The reality of the situation eventually began to sink in.
“When will you leave?” asked her mother.
There were no words of protest. Aki was surprised. She had always made her own choices. They had rarely been supportive and had always tried to give guidance that usually ended up being misguidance. She hoped that they did not realize that the chances of the mission being a one-way trip were unfathomably high—it would be best if they could remain ignorant of the dangers to Aki’s safety.
“We will be in training for two years until the ship is ready. Once the mission starts, we will be on board for about eleven months.”
“You will be gone for three years?”
“I am sorry and ashamed. I know that it would be better for me to be here with you with all that is going on, but living in Houston is mandatory for the training. We are allowed to bring our families, and I would like you to come.”
Her parents looked at each other without knowing what to say.
ACT VII: JANUARY 2018
WHEN AKI HEARD that the accommodations would be next to Clearwater Lake, she did not imagine a grim view of a desiccated lakebed. The bottoms of abandoned boats and fishing ships were belly up and exposed skyward. The shoreline of the Gulf of Mexico, not far from Houston, had also dried up, and the water had retreated a previously incomprehensible distance from the shore.
As long as Aki had what she needed to survive and prepare for the expedition, it did not matter how bleak her surroundings were. She had a maid to clean up after her, a car with a driver, and even a bodyguard at her disposal. Some felt that putting so much time and energy toward fighting what seemed inevitable, trying to stop the Builders, was not worth it, but Aki had everything she needed. She was committed to the cause. Compared to most of what was left of society, the consortium of governments provided her with enough luxury that it felt excessive.
Her parents decided not to come with her. Rather than live in a country that would feel foreign, they preferred the comfort of their own home and wanted their friends and neighbors close. She had tried to convince them, saying that their relationship with the neighbors might become strained as the environmental situation became more difficult and commodities became scarcer. In return, they had promised to join her if their relations with their neighbors began to degenerate, but she did not believe them. Aki had made her choice and they had made theirs.
If all went as planned, Aki would return from space in three years. Her parents had few doubts that she and her team would destroy the Ring and come home safely in the end even though most everyone else expected the Ring to destroy them instead. It was not something that she let herself focus on. The mission was what mattered.
It was a twenty-minute drive to the Johnson Space Center. Aki had predicted that her daily schedule would involve flying fighter planes, spinning in giant centrifuges, and enduring grueling survival training that included expeditions to the mountains and the sea. That was not the case. She underwent some physical training and occasional simulations, but most of her time was spent in classrooms.
Her training had begun when she first arrived at Johnson. That day, Aki and the other three members of the crew, all male, were gathered in a small meeting room. Then the four crewmembers were divided up into two pairs: the military team and the scientific team. An assistant instructor started the class by saying, “Today, I will not be teaching you. I have asked our two crewmembers from the navy to give some background information instead.”
The program had been designed to have the crewmembers teach one another in order for them to gain familiarity with each other’s specialties. Aki presumed that the instructors also chose this method so that the crew could learn to trust each other before they actually embarked on the mission. The two military crewmembers appeared not to have been told that they would be presenting. They looked at each other quizzically and shrugged their shoulders. Eventually, the older one stood and went to the front.
“I’m Alan Kindersley. I’m fifty-one, and I’ve worked as a ship’s commander for almost as long as at least that one has been alive,” he said, pointing at Aki. His silver hair, Vandyke beard, and overall countenance suggested that he was good-natured but stern.
“Mark and I have been in a navy branch called the silent service. It’s a colloquialism that means we’ve been living in submarines.” As he started talking about cruising speed, Aki thought he sounded so accustomed to giving orders that he didn’t feel compelled to put much authority into his voice. She realized that it would be her job to do what he asked even if it did not sound like a direct order.
“…two kinds of submarines—strategic and assault. A strategic nuclear submarine is a portable missile base. Attacking a submarine is no easy feat. There’s a certain security in serving aboard one because even if all the land bases are destroyed, submarines can remain in action and retaliate. With a sub, you know that you are going to get your revenge.”