It had been the previous day, just before they’d landed on Eos. Park had felt the gravity shift back on as they made the approach to the new planet. Her stomach lifted as if pulled by a string; her heart seemed to swell with the sudden change, then deflate. She could feel her cells becoming heavier, like sand settling on the bottom of a lake. There was elation and excitement and a kind of painful terror inside of her, in turns.

She’d run to the bridge. There were no windows to speak of on the ship, besides the ones there on the bridge. There were many reasons for this: radiation shielding, for one. Sanity, for the other. Some crewmembers would be susceptible to the “Earth-out-of-view” phenomenon: seeing their planet as an insignificant dot rapidly vanishing from sight did strange things to the mind of an Earth-born, especially one who had never experienced the vast emptiness of space before. Sometimes there was euphoria, a sense of interconnected bliss. Other times it was madness, frothing terror as everything they knew fell away from them.

But not being able to see an undiscovered planet was a kind of madness, too. A madness of curiosity.

Luckily, everyone else had had the same idea, so no one noticed when Park slipped into the bridge and took up a position at the back of the room. Only Dylanex, the ship’s lone security android, made disconcerted noises about the presence of unauthorized personnel—but everyone ignored him. There was a clamor, shouts of excitement and amazement as Eos swung into view through the shielded windows and onto the large monitors set into the wall.

Park had stared. That was it? That was their new planet, ISF’s proposed “dawn” of the Frontier? It looked like a little white light bulb, hanging there in the darkness of space. Or a perfect snowball, carefully crafted by a meticulous child. There were two suns. Park’s eyes watered, but she told herself that it was a biological reflex; that she would not allow anyone to see her cry.

Jimex came to stand next to her, as usual. Park had turned to him, full of wonder. “We’re here?” There had been no indicator, no progress map to tell her when exactly they would reach their destination. No one had told her they were making their approach.

Jimex had not understood the question. The rotors in his head whirred. “We have always been here,” he had answered, serene.

Preparations began for the ship to make its descent. Crewmembers bustled here and there; orders were given to secure objects and bodies for the entry through Eos’s thin atmosphere. A few auxiliary staffers, Park included, lingered in the bridge for as long as possible. Before they were shooed off, Keller had come over and squeezed Park’s shoulder with one bony hand.