These six would be the prime and backup crews for the Hail Mary. Either of the helicopters could easily have carried all six astronauts, but Stratt had a very strict rule: Under no circumstances could any crewmember and their backup share a plane, helicopter, or car. Each position was specialized and would require years of specific training. We wouldn’t want one car crash to ruin humanity’s chances of survival.

The candidate pool wasn’t deep. There just weren’t many coma-resistant people out there who had “the right stuff” and were willing to go on a suicide mission.

Still, even with the reduced pool, the winnowing and selection process had been long, brutal, and filled with endless politicking by every government involved. Stratt stayed firm and insisted on only the best candidates, but some concessions had to be made.

“Women,” I said.

“Yes,” Stratt grumbled.

“Despite your guidelines.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“No, it isn’t.” She frowned. “I got overruled by the Americans and Russians on it.”

I folded my arms. “I never would have thought a woman would be so sexist against women.”

“It’s not sexism. It’s realism.” She righted a strand of hair that had blown into her face. “My guidelines were that all candidates must be heterosexual men.”

“Why not all heterosexual women?”

“The vast majority of scientists and trained astronaut candidates are men. It’s the world we live in. Don’t like it? Encourage your female students to get into STEM. I’m not here to enact social equality. I’m here to do whatever’s necessary to save humanity.”

“Still seems sexist.”

“Call it what you like. There’s no room on this mission for sexual tension. What happens if there’s some kind of romantic entanglement? Or dispute? People kill for less.”

I looked across the deck to the candidates. Captain Yang welcomed them aboard. He took special interest in his countryman—the two were all smiles and handshakes.

“You didn’t want a Chinese guy either. You thought their space program was still too young. But I hear you picked him to be the prime crew commander.”

“He’s the most qualified. So he’s the commander.”

“Maybe the Russians and Americans over there are qualified too. Maybe the people literally saving the world will keep it professional. Maybe cutting off literally half of the talent pool because you’re afraid astronauts can’t keep it in their pants isn’t a good idea.”

“We’ll have to hope so. The Russian woman—Ilyukhina—is on the prime crew as well. She’s a materials expert and by far the best candidate for the task. The science expert is Martin DuBois—the American man. Two men and one woman. Recipe for disaster.”