“He’s alive, but barely. Our AI has him in a medically induced coma inside the cryo chamber,” Sophie said, sliding Emanuel’s wheelchair underneath a table. She strolled over to Overton with her hand outstretched. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you and your men did back there. So thank you,” she said, forcing a tired smile.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “My pleasure, ma’am. Just in the day’s work of a Marine.”

Timothy laughed. “Marines who don’t know what the hell is going on.”

Sergeant Overton took in a short breath, calming himself before he let go of Sophie’s hand and retreated to his chair. Under normal conditions he would be removing Timothy’s teeth from his mouth with one swift punch, but not today—today he needed a place to sleep and regroup so he could have the strength to fight later.

Sophie pulled a strand of frizzled blond hair out of her eyes and brushed it behind her ear. She shot Emanuel a glance before heading to the center of the room. The mission had gone from a failure to a complete nightmare, but she was still the team lead, and her people needed her now more than ever. They’d seen her go through many highs and lows in her career, from winning the J. J. Sakurai Prize for outstanding work in theoretical particle physics to subsequently losing grant funding for a project associated with a new particle collider funded by NTC. And they had stuck with her through it all.

She bent over the table, placing her hands on the cold metal and scanning the faces sitting around the room. She wondered if they would still stay by her side now.

“Listen up. I don’t know what’s happened outside. I’m not sure what we encountered on the highway or on our way back.” Sophie shook her head and sucked in a deep breath, straightening her back. “All I know is we have to move forward. But before we devise a plan, Alexia has something she wants us to see.” Sophie turned to face the console in the middle of the room.

“One moment, Dr. Winston,” Alexia replied. Darkness washed over the team as the lights faded. A burst of light shot out of the console, forming a crisp video feed that illuminated the faces of the team members.

Sophie recognized the empty control room instantly. It was the command center at the NTC headquarters in Los Angeles. She’d been there just three months ago, signing the contract that she thought was her ticket to Mars. Dr. Hoffman walked into the control room and looked into the camera. His face was solemn, fatigued. The lines on his aged forehead were deeper and more pronounced, as if he hadn’t slept for days.