August 2125

Before today, I’d read hundreds of accounts from astronauts, particularly focusing on the moment when they first saw the Earth from space for the first time. Many described the feeling as awe-inspiring, holy. It brought them closer to God, they said. But for me, seeing the Earth hanging below me, its blue atmosphere paper thin, makes me realise how vulnerable we are, a sitting duck in the vast expanse of space. My chest feels so light. What first struck me was how silent it is up here, even our ship makes minimal noise. I don't think I've ever known silence like this. The desire to protect our home burns brighter than ever inside me. I know we’re not facing a natural threat right now. The Earth is hit every single day by powerful blasts of radiation from our star. If it wasn’t for our iron core, protecting us with the magnetic field it produces, we’d be toast. We could be wiped out by the aftershock of a nearby star going supernova, or we could be destroyed by an asteroid, after spotting it too late. There are countless other threats. But now, it’s a faint signal, detected a mere ten light years away. The data had been analysed hundreds of times. Everyone expected the signal to be Earth interference getting in the way, but there was no mistaking it. Whatever’s producing these signals isn’t natural. It’s intelligent. It’s alive. It could know we’re here. It’s life that exists beyond our home.

I'd spent the morning gazing at the memorial wall of all the astronauts who'd lost their lives during space missions. There were less than fifty faces on that wall, but like me, they all had that same excitement at the thought of seeing the Earth from space for the first time. I know too, I might not be coming back to Earth, but it's the risk we all take. I can't help but imagine my face joining those on that wall, and imagining what my obituary will be like. 

‘It never gets old.' Dr Jane Gregory smiles as she floats towards me, her dark hair flying behind her. 'So, how are you finding it, Ben? You're first space mission so far.' 

Her hazel eyes fix on mine and I look away. I’ve known Jane a long time. She’s been into space a dozen times, serving on board the International Space Station. She was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom five years ago. Her work on the ISS helped develop new cancer drugs that helped increase survival rates of even the most deadly forms of cancers. Now she’s in charge of our mission to seek out this potential threat to Earth. Our mission is simple: watch and observe, do not engage and report back. Or so everyone keeps telling me.

I shake my head. ‘It just feels as though anything, a simple knock, could shift the Earth out of orbit,’ I say. ‘And what catastrophes would that rain down on us?’

‘I know it seems like a small, defenceless blue dot up here, but it’s been like this for over four billion years.’

‘I know, I know, I guess I’m just feeling a little sentimental, that’s all,’ I say. 'Why did you choose me, Jane?' 

Jane's facial expression doesn't falter. 'Of course, I would've chosen you, Ben, if the decision had been down to me. But it was actually Ryan who asked me to.' 

I frowned at her. 'Ryan. Why?' 

I get on well with Ryan, our boss, the current head and director of NASA, but he hasn't selected my name for any space missions before, despite the extensive training I'd gone through to get to this point. Why now?

'He simply told me you'd be perfect. Oh, look, there's your home?' she says, motioning back towards the window. Why do I feel like she's trying to avoid my question? 

I turn back and I spot the UK, partially covered by white cloud. I can cover the entire country with my thumb. I was born and grew up there, before emigrating to the United States in my late twenties, after NASA took an interest in me. My parents will still be down there, in their semidetached house in Essex. Mum will probably be brewing a cup of tea right now. Dad will be sitting in his arm chair, his feet on the pouffe, reading the newspaper, The Guardian it’ll be. I remember once our next door neighbour’s daily edition of the Daily Mail got delivered to us by mistake, and Dad set fire to it. For the last couple of weeks, my face has been splashed across the major news stations and newspapers in the UK, the only Brit to be chosen by NASA to ‘seek out the aliens,’ as they said. I’d spoken to Mum shortly before I boarded the rocket that blasted us out of the Earth’s orbit, and towards our new home, The Endeavour, for the next, however many months, the only man-made space craft that can go faster than the speed of light. A couple of hundred years ago they said it would be impossible to travel at the speed of light. It's amazing when you think of it. Mum said it was a load of fuss about nothing on the phone, and a waste of money. Every politician and news reader in the country, even the King, wanted to speak to me, and Mum said it was a load of fuss about nothing. I half chuckle. I shouldn’t have expected any less really. That’s why I imagine her going about her day as if nothing big is happening at all.

‘Well, we better buckle in. Nikki, you ready?’ Jane says.

‘Ready,’ Nikki calls and I can see she’s already buckled into her seat.

Nikki is a twenty-five-year-old biologist, of African-American heritage, who graduated from Harvard at the age of sixteen. At the age of eighteen I joined the army and served for eight years before joining NASA. It was something I'd done in the army that was the reason I was selected for this mission, that's what Jane isn't telling me. Her words: he simply told me you'd be perfect, filter through into my mind.

Also with us is NASA engineer, Michael Davies, a bloke in his thirties originally from Colorado, whom I’d never met before we started training. NASA spotted his potential when he was just fifteen. Four of us were chosen to man this mission, with another team waiting in the wings should we fail. I said we needed more people surely, but as Jane pointed out this is an observation mission that should only take the matter of a few months. The signal may not even turn out to be aliens at all. But something, and I don't know what it is, doesn't sit right with me.

‘Right people. Let’s go, go, go,’ Jane says, floating back the way she came towards the control room. 

I float after her, leaving the view of the Earth behind me and plug myself into my seat beside her. It’s crazy to think there’s only four of us heading out on this mission, and we could be about to make contact for the first time with an alien civilisation, who may or may not be friendly. We’ll be representing the human race. I swallow.

‘The Endeavour is locked on to target,’ Michael says, flicking switch after switch as I buckle myself into my seat.

I close my eyes, picture the scene back home to try and calm my beating heart. I can't let nerves get the better of me. Not now. Everyone will be glued to their television screens, watching as our rocket lifs off this afternoon, everyone except Mum and Dad. My lips curl into a smile. 

‘Right, let’s hunt down some alien bastards,’ Jane says, and I see the faint hint of a smile on her lips. ‘Sorry, I’ve always thought how cool it would be to say that on a mission. Ready to go in five, four, three, two, one.’