Rocky couldn't believe his luck. Alex flipping sides like that in front of the kids was precisely what he needed to regain authority. Nigel’s email seemed excessive given his success in the last few hours. Which was good because he wasn't sure he was capable of killing kids? He’d been a parent at one point in this life, divorced from her mom, but still a Dad. And then the world had ripped his daughter away. God had only allowed nineteen years of Johanna, less than one-third of his life now. She’d been the best part of his life. The only part he was proud of.

  Johanna was fourteen when she was diagnosed with leukemia, and her last five years had been grueling. She'd lost her hair and, in the end, her smile.

  “Dad, am I going to die?” she’d asked the day they’d received the diagnosis.

  “No,” Rocky had answered, ignoring his ex-wife's side eye from the passenger seat of his car.

  “Just no,” she’d repeated, as if wanting more.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Ah, that’s much better,” his daughter had said.

  “You’re fourteen, Johanna. We’re at Children’s Mercy West. The best doctors and nurses work here. You’re gonna beat this.”

  But Rocky had known that although it was possible, it wasn't likely. He'd known that every day after the diagnosis wasn't promised to them. He and his ex-wife couldn't agree on how to handle that. Agreeing had never been their strength.

  “Dad, Mom says I can’t go to the prom,” Joahnna had said, three months into her senior year of high school, her chestnut hair growing back and swinging in defiance.

  "Well, does she realize it's senior prom, and you're a senior?" he'd asked.

  "I dunno. Please call her, Dad. She won't answer my texts."

  And so Rocky had called and listened to Leslie, Johanna's mom, explain to him what leukemia was, as if he didn't know, and how weak her body had become from all the treatments.

  “Les, God, just let her go. It might be her last prom,” he’d said pleadingly.

  “Of course, it's going to be her last prom. It's going to be the last prom for all the seniors, Rocky. Why am I always the bad guy? I know she looks fine, but her white blood cell count is too low. She's gonna get sick!”

  And she had gotten sick after prom, he remembered, running his hands across the smooth metal of his laptop. But she’d fought through it like she always had. And a month later, she was well enough for him to catch her in bed with the same boy who’d taken her to prom. What in the world had happened to that boy, he wondered? Had he come to the funeral? He'd blocked out almost everything about the funeral. Funerals and kids didn't go together. Kids should be allowed a life. In most ways, Johanna was just like the kids on this mission, pushing boundaries, thinking she knew it all, except that for her, everything had been in fast-forward, and she’d run out of time.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Peyton reminded him of Johanna. Their eyes were the same color. But Johanna would never have been part of something like this. Neither he nor Leslie would have signed the consents. Hell, the only reason he was a part of this mission was that he didn’t care anymore. If someone walked into this office right now and put a bullet in his head, he'd be glad about it. No amount of work, women, or alcohol could erase the hole Johanna left inside him. He was a shell, having long since ceased to believe he was here for a reason. It was order and protocol that pushed him through the world, leaving him in a constant state of numbness.

  Peyton’s parents likely loved her just as much as he’d once loved Johanna. But they'd been careless with their daughter, letting her come to Mars. All Peyton had to do was follow orders, and her parents could have her back. Johanna was never coming back. Rocky was never getting his daughter back. All he had was the mission. Getting that right was the top priority. Whether people liked how he got it right was none of his business.

  “Sir,” a voice said, startling Rocky, who swung around to visualize where the voice had come from.

  “Alex, hell, you certainly gave me a shock. What are you doing here?” Rocky asked.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I just wanted to talk with you about the launch.”

  “What about the launch?”

  “May I come in?”

  Rocky’s gut warned him that this was somehow a setup, but he motioned for Alex to enter, curious as to what Alex might say.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Why are you here, Alex?”

  “Well, I guess mainly to say I’m sorry I left the base without permission. I know that’s been the catalyst for this boycott idea, and I regret it.”

  “And why should I accept your apology?”

  Alex's face darkened as if reflexively, but he quickly recovered, setting his jaw back into a comfortable smile.

  “I guess you don't have to, but today at lunch, I wanted to prove to you that I'm sorry.”

  “By hurting Ms. Lawrence?”

  “No, by following your example.”

  Rocky thought about this for a moment, observing Alex warily. What was the kid up to, he wondered. The boy was currently standing at the threshold of his office door, which was directly beneath a television screen Rocky used to monitor multiple cameras on the spaceship. Camden was presently in front of one of the cameras, giving him the finger. Rocky cleared his throat, focusing his attention back on Alex.

  “It's been hard to gain the compliance necessary to make this mission a success, son. The fact that boycotting the launch remains a pressing issue speaks volumes to my effectiveness. This is my last mission, Alex. Red Rock's going to need to find another glutton for punishment. Your generation’s complete lack of respect for authority has tarnished our time here. Everyone needs to get back home where your parents are in charge.”

  Rocky focused intently on Alex's face, trying hard not to give any of his attention to Camden, who’d gotten very close to the camera and pulled his pants down, mooning anyone watching.

  “Kai would like to speak to Ms. Lawrence," Alex said. "He approached me after lunch and said the only way to take back control was to speak with Peyton.”

  “Ms. Lawrence isn’t seeing visitors,” he said, disgusted that Alex called Peyton by her first name.

  “I know, but I think he’s right. And he’s pro-launch. He’s not your typical leader, sir, but it took a lot of guts for him to ask me to speak with you. Kai stopped talking completely at one point. Now he has something to say. What would it hurt? If she sees how much this is impacting us, she might stop trying to hinder the mission.”

  The last part hit, and the idea became plausible immediately. Kai was no threat- Rocky knew that. Nigel even believed the kid might be instrumental in getting everyone to forget about a boycott. Would Peyton’s soft spot for Kai open her to switching narratives? He might not need to kill anyone after all.

  “I’ll take Kai to see Ms. Lawrence. Bring him to me.”