“Yeah,” he says. “It really is something. Go do your job, old man.”

“Later, Rocky.”

“Later!”

I hobble out of the room and make my way along the perimeter of the dome. They made the whole thing out of clear xenonite because they thought that’s what I would want. But it doesn’t matter. It’s pitch-dark outside all the time. Sure, I can shine a flashlight out there and occasionally see an Eridian going about his business. But I don’t get sweeping vistas of mountains or anything. Just inky blackness.

My smile fades a little.

How bad did it get back on Earth? Did they work together to survive? Or did millions die in wars and famine?

They were able to collect the beetles, read my information, and implement a solution. A solution that would have involved a probe going to Venus. So there’s definitely some advanced infrastructure still there.

I bet they did work together. Maybe it’s just the childish optimist in me, but humanity can be pretty impressive when we put our minds to it. After all, everyone worked together to build the Hail Mary. That was no easy feat.

I hold my head up high. Maybe I will go home someday. Maybe I’ll find out for sure.

But not right now. Right now, I’ve got work to do.

I continue along the path to the large double doors leading to another meeting space. And I have to say, it’s my favorite one.

I step into the chamber. About one-fifth of the room is my Earth environment. The other side of the divider wall has thirty little Eridians bouncing around like idiots. Each one is no more than thirty Earth years old. The selection process for which ones get to attend… well… again, Eridian culture is complicated.

An Earthlike organ keyboard sits in the center of my area, oriented such that the operator faces the kids. The organ has quite a few more options than a typical keyboard found on Earth. I can apply inflection, tone, mood, and all the other little intricacies of spoken language. I settle into the comfortable chair, crack my knuckles, and start the class.

“All right, all right,” I play. “Everyone settle down and get in your seats.”

They scamper to their assigned desks and sit quietly, ready for the lesson to begin.

“Who here can tell me the speed of light?”

Twelve kids raise their claws.

About the Author

ANDY WEIR (California, United States, 1972) was first hired as a programmer for a national laboratory at age fifteen and has been working as a software engineer ever since. He is also a lifelong space nerd and a devoted hobbyist of subjects like relativistic physics, orbital mechanics, and the history of manned spaceflight.