Snippet #1546007

Conference room 3 of the Kennedy Space Center looked like a small college hall. Several ascending rows of wooden benches were facing a central projector screen and a wooden table, covered in aerial photographs of Martian landing sites. To the right stood a white board, decorated with complicated formulas of flight trajectory and other physics gibberish. George Watson – the man in charge – stood in front of the audience on the podium. John sat on the front row flipping the silver watch in his hand. He always took out the watch when he was nervous and the new launch date worried him. Watson adjusted his glasses as he continued to speak.

On the projection sheet there was a blurry picture of.. well something. “What the hell is that?” John thought to himself. He squinted his eyes, trying to make something of the blurry shape on the picture. There was something intriguing about the phenomenon that he could not place. It was almost as if it was calling out to him, just waiting to be discovered. But this was not his inner scientist talking, this was something else..

Initially the mission aboard the Lewis and Clark had reminded John of Darwin's ship - the Beagle. Similar to Darwin they would explore uncharted territories. But in this case to collect the first evidence for extraterrestrial life. Sure, people had planted a flag on the moon and walked in space. But the scientific impact of even some boring old microbe on Mars would be far greater than any of that. Scientists would be forced reconsider the prevalent paradigms regarding the origin of life. Even the possibility of water masses on Mars would change the way geologists viewed the Earth. It had been a part of his reasons to sign up for the mission. But now, looking at this blurry shape on the projection sheet, it felt as if none of that mattered anymore.

Suddenly he realized that he hadn't payed attention to the presentation. The silence in his head vanished as the surrounding sound came back with a bang.

"I'm sure you all have a lot of questions. So at this time I will answer what I can or direct your question to one of the other experts behind me. The floor is now yours."

Without really thinking it through John lifted his hand and opened his mouth; “Yeah, what's for dinner. I'm starving!”

Watson gave him an ice stare, enough to make John regret his loud mouth. Maybe he shouldn't have taken that last pint that afternoon.