Emma was about to start her last English-language tour when her link beeped an incoming message - the tone for "urgent." One family was still coming up the ramp, two young boys ricocheting among signs diagramming the mockup of the colony. Emma turned discreetly to one side and tapped her headset.
"There's a mission problem." Emma didn't check her contact lens for metadata - that was the mission lead's voice in her ear. "Come to the control room as soon as duties allow."
A chill ran through Emma. Maybe her launch date had slipped. Maybe they'd miss the window entirely and she'd remain on Earth, temporarily reprieved. Why was that the first thought that came to her?
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish