The Silicon Valley Connection

epilogue - aidan: print ('perfect strangers')

Someone taps me gently on my shoulder.

"Everything's ready for the pre-launch sequence," Reyna says as I finish a call through my earpiece.

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver," I say, practically out of breath. I've been going since 7 a.m. this morning. It's now nearing 11 a.m., and I'm pretty sure this is my third macchiato...or is it my fourth?

They laugh. "As the spacecraft communicator, it's literally in the job description to make sure communications go smoothly between the astronauts and us." They jerk their head to the iced drink in my hands. "And making sure the flight director doesn't fall apart in the process."

T-minus 30 minutes until our first launch to Mars.

I yawn and run a hand through my hair. "Point taken. Before we send them off, I wanted to have a word with the astronauts, if that's okay."

Reyna nods. "Of course." They glance at their phone and sigh. "I am so sorry, Mr. Lim; I

have to take this." I follow their finger in the direction of the Apollo Lounge.

"They're just over there."

I give them a warm smile. "Thanks, Reyna. And no worries, go ahead." They give me a grateful nod and rush down the hall in the opposite direction, fumbling to get the Bluetooth earpiece before the phone stops ringing. I chuckle to myself.

Note to self: Get Reyna a thank you gift when this is all over.

For the past two years as Fusion Technologies' flight director, I have taken it upon myself to personally wish the astronauts a decent trip. This year is no different.

Or so I thought.

I can spot each crew member easily with their navy-blue jumpsuit and the American flag patch on their upper right arm sleeve. Adorned with their pilot and mission patches, I can't help but smile. I'm stoked to finally meet the three-person crew that the Alula Program committee selected.

But one single crew member specifically caught my attention as she was chatting with a woman dressed in a fuchsia pantsuit and matte black pumps. It took me a minute to recognize the pantsuit young woman as the former eighth-grade girl that proudly wore her blue "1st place" ribbon with honor. Then, when Amelia said her goodbyes and the astronaut completely turned around, my file slipped out of my hands and fell to the floor with a soft but audible plop.

Of course, I knew she applied for the position, but to see her in full gear with the new, merged logo of both companies embroidered on the suit and her name etched in gold on a black Velcro patch with her pilot wings below, I'm resisting every urge to go over to hug, kiss, congratulate her--literally anything to show how proud I am of her.

Of us.

We both achieved what we set out to do.

Not that I ever had any shadow of a doubt that she couldn't, because I was right there with her.

She rushes over to help me gather the now scattered papers littered across the floor.

Good going, Aidan. You're such a klutz around her after all these years...

As I help her up and she brushes off the dust from her space jumpsuit, she makes eye contact with me, and now it's her turn for her jaw to drop.

"Mars is a big frontier, Shortcake. You ready?"

She folds her arms sassily. "I think the real question here is, is the red planet ready for me, Specs?"

I tap my chin, humming thoughtfully, before reaching my conclusion. "Absolutely not."

Faith nods approvingly, gives me a little salute, and I return the gesture. We both laugh, and a familiar feeling of comfort resurfaces, easing my nerves about this mission.

Only slightly.

Two years without her is going to hurt more than anything.

faith

"Astronauts for the inaugural mission to Mars, please report to the Endeavour pad for the pre-launch sequence," the PA system announces. I sigh and get up from the bench. Just as I'm leaving the lounge, someone grabs my arm and pulls me tightly into a hug, sneaking in a peck on my nose.

I take a deep breath, inhaling his scent. "Saranghae, Specs."

"Nado saranghae, Shortcake. To Mars and back." He brings my face to him, cupping my

chin. "See you in two years, Miss Flight Engineer."

"See you in two years, Mr. Flight Director," I echo back to him.