The first touch of their minds against mine made me shiver. I was alone then--I am still alone--but now I know why. I almost knew that first night, when Susan flew away.
That first day, our ship descended on Aurora, floating through the ruddy clouds, the attitude jets making the craft shudder and roar around us. Six of us sat in the descent vessel, the first base camp team. I was there as mission historian, to record and annotate for posterity, and I sat and watched the faces as I recorded. They glowed with excitement. Andy, Laura, Susan, Max, Ivan--all trained mission personnel. Then there was me. I was the outsider in the group, but then that was nothing new. I'd always been an outsider in one way or other.
The initial survey teams had decided the planet was safe. Things were different down there, but I'd been assured they would do me no harm and I believed them. The virgin world below beckoned with the promise of dreams to be fulfilled. For me, it was history in the making and that was enough. And almost being a part of it.
"So, Andy," I said. "How does it feel to be a pioneer?"
Andy grinned back at the camera lens and struggled for something to say.
"Well, I guess it's better than sex," he said. "Oh, hell. Can you cut that, Phil? I reckon I ought to say something meaningful, right?"
"Sure. Take your time."
Andy ran his palm back across his stubbled head, adjusted his seat then looked into the camera again. Square jawed and deeply tanned, he looked the part. His clear blue eyes fixed the lens with intensity.
"I feel proud," he said. "Proud to be among the first to take our dreams to the stars."
That brought a slow handclap from the rest of the crew.
"A bit thick isn't it, Andy?" said Laura. "Hey, guys, I think he might be after the Academy Award."
"And playing Andy Johansen is ... himself," said Max.
The others laughed and I joined in. The good-natured banter continued to the ground, Andy looking sheepish.
I planned to pipe the images up to the main ship at the end of every day, after I'd finished editing them. I thought perhaps I'd leave Andy's bit in.
As the ship touched down, the others were busy with their instruments and readings. I let them get on with it and sat back, slightly envious, recording it all. I'd often dreamed of being in their position, but hadn't made the grade. I'd done the tests and the company physicals, but failed on the first attempt. Historian was the next best thing. I wasn't really a member of the team, but being there with them was about the next best thing.
Our landing vessel was big--big enough to accommodate all of us for an extended duration if we needed it--and as strong as a rock. It had been designed to withstand anything the planet could throw at us, but as we were there to set up the first real base on Aurora, secretly all of us hoped it wouldn't come to that.
)
