Two Weeks Later
The ceremony was at two o’clock, to be followed by hors d’oeuvres. Rosa wore a red dress and didn’t straighten when she passed the paparazzi stationed along the road to the compound, and the news vans from all over the world parked inside. Trevor looked handsome in a suit. Their parents were there, and everybody at IA who’d been in the Flight Control Room when the alien teams had landed. There was a full contingent of NASA brass, too, including John Taylor Templeton—the head of NASA, there to honor them.
Rosa and Trevor and Reg stood together at the front of the Flight Control Room. Their families stayed off to the side. There was a long table covered with fruit and cheese slices and gourmet crackers for snacking when the ceremony was done. Reg’s wife, Jennifer, squeezed his good arm and slipped out of the room.
When she came back a minute later, Eddie was with her.
He was pale and had shadows under his eyes, and although he walked slowly he was steady on his feet. He saw Rosa and grinned. She smiled back at him and did a little finger wave by her thigh. They hadn’t let her see him before she went home. She hadn’t seen him since the explosion.
The crowd broke into a low clap, and Jennifer Davis walked down the long aisle with him. She knew better than to try to hold his arm to help him. When he got to the front Rosa grabbed his face and gave him a kiss right on the lips, and everybody clapped harder, even her dad.
“I’ll settle for a handshake,” Trevor said, smiling and grabbing Eddie’s hand. Reg gripped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Glad to see you,” Reg said.
“Likewise,” Eddie said. “Your arm okay?”
“Yeah.”
Rosa slipped her hand around Eddie’s arm, and he squeezed it against his side.
Smithson cleared his throat. “I don’t want to keep Eddie on his feet for too long, so let’s get started. It is the greatest honor of my career to welcome IA’s Team 3 and their instructor. They saved the lives of probably everybody on this planet …” Here he was interrupted by thunderous applause and a couple of whistles. “They commandeered an alien spacecraft, figured out how to fly it through the extra dimensions, evaluated a new world, made contact with friendly locals, ditched that bacteria, scuttled two craft, and flew the third home. I’m just sorry we weren’t able to salvage more of that craft so we could examine its control panel.”
“Yeah, they probably don’t want to do that,” Eddie whispered. Trevor snorked.
Smithson shook his head. “You have courage, tenacity, and the ability to work together. And now you have a place on the wall.”
He nodded, and the camera flew in and blinked green, ready for them. They each pinched the edge of the black silk covering an easel, looked at each other, and gave it a little tug. The fabric slid off and there was their mission plaque: a solid black field with their last names, and below them two identical blue Earths.
Everyone clapped, and then a couple of guys propped a ladder against the wall and one climbed up and hung their mission plaque. Eventually there would be another to its right, and then another, and another. But this one would always be theirs.
Most people pulled out their phones and took hover selfies with them, and the trainees shook a lot of hands and smiled, and then made their way to the refreshment table. Jennifer Davis went with them, but their parents hung back.
“I figured out why you lost a kidney,” Trevor said. “It was the egg’s revenge for you peeing on it.”
“Hey, that makes sense,” Eddie said. He grinned.
John Taylor Templeton came by and flashed his green card at Eddie. “May I access the hors d’oeuvres table?” he asked, smiling.
Eddie made a show of looking at the card. “Yeah, but stay away from the bacon-wrapped shrimp. They’re mine.”
Templeton patted his shoulder, took a little paper plate, and moved past them. Rosa took a plate, too, and dropped some grapes on it.
When they’d had a few minutes to eat, Smithson got their attention and said, “We have a few small things we’d like to give these people.” Which meant that everybody was quiet and watching when Eddie’s old man walked into the room.
Eddie set down his plate, then stood perfectly still. Watchful. Ready.
Rosa and Trevor exchanged a glance. They couldn’t let him get in a fight, considering the size of the scar he must have on his back.
“Any reason I wasn’t invited?” Mr. Toivonen said as he sauntered up the aisle, picking food off the table as he went. “Hey, Eddie,” he said as he breezed past them. Reg was breathing hard and had his head down, and looked like a bull ready to charge.
“You haven’t been answering my phone calls,” Mr. Toivonen said to Director Smithson. “So I thought I’d just stop by.” John Taylor Templeton walked over to stand next to Smithson.
“God,” Eddie said. “Now? This is when he shows up?” He pulled his mouth in tight, like he was in pain.
I guess he is, Rosa thought.
“You damaged my son, and I’m going to need reimbursement for that damage,” Mr. Toivonen said, as though Eddie were a thing. “Or I’ll have to sue you and this joker …” He poked the NASA director in the chest. “And everybody in this goddamn place.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Smithson said smoothly. He pulled a folded set of papers from his jacket pocket. “If you’re Eddie’s legal guardian, you’re responsible for his hospital bills. Which have been considerable.”
“Hell, I am!” Mr. Toivonen said. “You said you have insurance.”
“We do,” Smithson said. “But the deductibles are in the thousands, once it’s all added together. Here, take a look.” He held the papers out to Mr. Toivonen.
“That’s not my responsibility!” he said.
“Actually, it is. As long as you have parental rights.” Smithson pulled another set of papers from his jacket pocket. “You can give me a check, or you can give up your parental rights.”
“Which you would lose in a few months, anyway,” Templeton said. “About the time he’s well enough to work again.”
“This is a con,” Mr. Toivonen said.
“You would know,” Smithson said.
Mr. Toivonen bunched his shoulders and worked his jaw, but Smithson didn’t flinch.
“Whatever,” he finally said, grabbing the second set of papers. “Little asswipe isn’t worth the money.” He took the pen Templeton proffered, signed the paper, and left it on a console. “Hey, Eddie,” he shouted across the room as he left. “You’re a fucking emancipated minor. Good luck with that.” He picked up a tray of smoked salmon on crackers and walked out with it. The whole tray.
“Sorry,” Eddie whispered. “I ruined you guys’ ceremony.”
“Oh, Eddie. Not your fault,” Rosa said. “Anyway, it’s your ceremony, too.”
He shook his head. “I’m kicked out, remember? I’m only here because I was on the … well, it wasn’t even a mission. I just boosted a ride. Like him.” He turned to go and Reg grabbed his arm, but when Eddie spoke again it was to Rosa. “See my clothes?” He was wearing khakis and a dress shirt that still had windowpane folds in it. He tilted his head toward Reg’s wife. “She got them for me this morning when she found out I was gonna wear jeans and a T-shirt. ’Cause that’s what I had.”
“That was nice,” Rosa said.
“I’m a frickin embarrassment,” he said. “I should go.” He blinked hard. “I have the worst luck in the entire universe. There’s no other Eddie out there with worse luck.”
Rosa hooked her pinkie around his, down low at their sides. “Knock knock.”
He blinked at her, then finally said, “Who’s there?”
“Me, okay? I’m here.” She gave his pinkie a squeeze before she let it go.
Templeton called to them. “This would be a good time for some remarks, I think,” he said. “Can Team 3 come over here?” He motioned them back to the easel.
Rosa tilted her head toward Templeton, inviting Eddie to walk with her. He hesitated, then hooked his pinkie back around hers and let her lead him over.
“For all of Earth’s history we have spun alone in the dark, one planet, gazing at the stars and wondering,” Templeton said. “Now we have traversed the farthest reaches of space only to see our own faces. We stand at the brink of a new age: we are not alone. In a real and demonstrable way, what is out there,” he said, sweeping his hand upward, “is what is in here.” He tapped his chest. “We sent four people into space—not authorized, mind you.” Everyone laughed. “But I can think of no better ambassadors to extend their hands across that vast divide.”
He nodded to Smithson, and the IA director stepped forward. “We have some gifts,” he said. “First, Team 3’s trainer, Commander Reginald Davis,” Smithson said. “Reg, you wanted a little time away from flying after a tragic crash. During that ‘time off’ you flew through extradimensional space and made one of the most impressive landings in aviation history. We’re not falling for your excuses anymore.” Smithson smiled. “You’re reinstated. Fly at will.”
John Taylor Templeton pinned an eagle medal on Reg’s chest. Reg puffed out a little, and shook their hands.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I’d like to stay on as Team 3’s instructor, if I may.”
Smithson and Templeton exchanged a glance. “That’s not typical,” Smithson finally said.
“Anything about any of this strike you as typical?” Reg said.
“Commander Davis has a point,” Smithson said, and shook his hand again.
“We got you something, too,” Rosa said. Trevor grinned and trotted up behind a console in the front, and came back rolling a barrel on its rim.
“Pickles!” Trevor said.
Rosa added, “We thought you should have a full week’s supply.” Everybody laughed. The mood was lightening after Mr. Toivonen’s scene.
“We’ve learned that when we gaze into the sky, someone is looking back,” Smithson went on. “One of the people out there is another Rosa Hayashi, which is comforting when you think of her remarkable intellect, courage, and leadership. It’s disconcerting when you realize she might launch herself through space at you.”
Eddie grinned at her.
“For Rosa,” Smithson said, reaching behind him, “a cape.” Everyone laughed again. It wasn’t a cheap Halloween prop—this was made of heavy taffeta and had a crystal clasp at the neck. Rosa dropped it over her shoulders and made superhero arms. She would have loved this when she played dress-up as a little girl. “That’ll help you the next time you jump off a launch tower.”
Her dad put his hands over his face and groaned. He hadn’t liked hearing that part of the story.
“Did you see the clasp?” John Taylor Templeton said.
Rosa hadn’t really looked, so she took the cape off to examine it. It was the NASA logo worked in crystals.
“It detaches so you can wear it as a pin.”
“Oh,” she said. “It’s gorgeous.” And she meant it.
“Trevor,” John Taylor Templeton said, “you ran off to take on a planet by yourself. I need a word beyond courage.” Templeton shook his head. “In addition to your extraordinary heart, you paid close attention in kindergarten. Thank you for that.” Trevor grinned.
Templeton held out a first aid kit. Looking at the crowd he said, “We had them engrave something on it. It says, ‘Does this look infected?’”
Rosa and Eddie sagged into each other with laughter. Trevor clasped his hands together and shook them over his head, then reached for the kit, but Templeton kept hold of the handle. When he spoke again, his voice was serious.
“Trevor, you know we normally just have two team members.”
“Um, okay,” Trevor said uncertainly.
“You would be great on an IA team, but we think you’d be even better on our medical staff. If you want it, the contents of the first aid kit are yours.”
Trevor took the kit, glanced nervously at Rosa and Eddie, then flipped it open. “Gauze!” he said. “Just what I’ve always wanted!”
“I think that’s true,” Eddie whispered.
“Oh. Oh. And, um,” he held up a piece of paper, “a certificate that says it’s redeemable for an education at Harvard Medical School.”
The room rustled, and Dr. and Dr. Clayborn squeezed each other’s hands.
“Just to be clear, we don’t expect you to start with med school,” Smithson said. “It includes four years for a BS first—and you’ll have your final year of high school here.”
“Thank you so much,” Trevor said. “I do want this. But I wonder if I could trade it for going to the University of Iowa.”
Smithson and Templeton looked at each other. “I think our donor would agree to that,” Templeton said.
“Good,” Trevor said. “I have a couple of friends I want to keep up with.”
Rosa kissed his cheek and Eddie bounced his fist gently on Trev’s head.
Smithson looked out at the crowd. “I’m always going to be the guy who cut Eddie Toivonen from IA. At least let me also be the guy who welcomes him back. Eddie, will you accept my apology—and a position on Team 3?”
“Yeah,” Eddie said. His voice was thick.
“Good! We were aware that you know math and that you know physics. But we didn’t realize what a fluid thinker you are.” He handed Eddie a gold-plated urinal, and the place roared with laughter.
Eddie took it. “Jeez, it’s heavy.” He shook it over his head. His post-op instructions probably didn’t allow that, but then Eddie never was a rules follower.
“We have something else for you, too,” Smithson said, holding out a small wooden box.
Eddie put down the urinal, took the box, and flipped up the lid.
“A compass?”
“Because your moral compass points north, Eddie. We believe in you. You believe in you, too, okay?”
Eddie nodded and blinked and slipped the compass into his pocket.
“Trev and I got you something!” Rosa said. They dragged a big box out from behind a console where they’d hidden it.
“It’s a train set,” Trevor said.
“A train set?” Eddie said, clearly mystified.
“It’s because we solved trolleyology,” Rosa said. “The unsolvable problem. When Trevor was trapped on the tracks, you didn’t push the person next to you.”
“That’s ’cause you’re not fat enough,” Eddie said. She smacked him on the arm.
“Shush. We’re having a moment.”
“Okay.”
“We jumped together. Nobody pushing anybody.” She looked at him, willing him to understand.
“I tied his shoestrings,” Trevor said, “you kept the gun pointed at you, and Rosa went flying squirrel on him. So we got you a train set, to remind you that you don’t always have to do it alone.”
“Huh,” Eddie said. Then he put his arms around both of them. “I always wanted a train set. Are there little trees and stuff?”
“Yeah!” Trevor said. “And hoboes! We got you hoboes.”