Blinding lights shone down on me. I accidentally glanced at them, causing them to burn splotches into my eyes. It turned out that stage lights were brighter than I’d thought. A desk stood to my right. A man was seated behind it, engaged in deep conversation with a few people who were holding tablets. The conversation concluded with the people walking away. Apparently, a lot more went into talk shows than I’d realized. And I didn’t see the point of any of it.

I glanced at the “audience.” Live audiences were excessively dangerous thanks to the Aggressive Intellectuals, so this audience was somewhat transparent, flickered a little, and occasionally disappeared. Its members sat, laughed, and stared like they were really there, but they weren’t. They were holograms. They weren’t real.

None of this was.

Someone called for everyone to get ready; the show was about to begin. The man behind the desk—the host, straightened the small microphone attached to his space suit collar as he stared into a camera. Another man counted down from five and ended by pointing at the host.

“Welcome back to Chad Takalot Live! I’m your host, Chad Takalot, and, today, a very special guest is joining us! You could call him the Epsilon Explorer, the Hero of the First Division, or the kid who needs a haircut. If you asked him, he’d probably say he preferred to be called ‘Wander Locke.’”

The flickering people clapped and cheered at the mention of my name. Of course they did. Any other reaction would have been awkward. I managed a smile and a small wave in response.

“Thanks for having me, Chad,” I said in a forced tone. No one would notice. As long as I didn’t insult one of his sponsors, I was good. “You’re right, by the way. I’d really prefer to be called by my actual name. I didn’t even start the ‘Epsilon Explorer’ thing.”

That horrible nickname had come about because of President Frost, who was also behind this interview and all the other ones. She sure liked showing off her new toy. It had been a month since I’d come back from Epsilon, but it felt like it had happened yesterday. All the events that had transpired were still fresh in my mind whether I was awake or not…

“Don’t you think?”

“Huh?” I snapped my head up.

Chad’s expectant gaze told me that he had just asked a question. I hadn’t heard it because I’d zoned out. Again. I looked out at the fake crowd and found that every eye was on me. I couldn’t hear the audience members’ thoughts, but I could imagine them. My hands fidgeted as I pictured their disappointment.

Chad let out a shaky chuckle. “Didn’t get enough sleep, kiddo?” He looked into the camera as the audience laughed. If only he knew how horrific my nights really were. “I said that, even without your Epsilon Explorer title, you’re still a pretty big deal. Not everyone gets to spend as much time with President Frost as you do. It’s like you’re her son, don’t you think?”

Rage flooded me. It took everything in me to prevent my lashing out. I couldn’t ruin my image: perhaps I hated my title, but it might prove useful. Every time I took a deep breath, it helped a little less. I did it anyway and felt only a smidgen of my rage diminish.

“Yeah!” I said with far too much enthusiasm. I had to tone it down. “It’s crazy because, even though I unfortunately lost my parents to the AI last year, President Frost makes me feel like I still have a mom.” I shuddered at the crowd’s awwing. My sentiment was fake, but it had done the trick. What else did people like? They liked jokes, and I used to tell those. “The only downside is that I can’t get a coffee without someone recognizing me! It’s like, I know I’m the Epsilon Explorer, but can’t I just get my vanilla latte?”

I smiled from cheek to cheek as the crowd laughed. Yup, nothing had changed. All I’d done was visit the most dangerous planet in the galaxy. If the people of the galaxy found that funny, then who was I to correct them? I could just pretend that things were fine forever. Made no difference.

My mouth went dry as I tuned out Chad’s latest monologue. There was a glass of water on the desk. I reached for it with my right arm…

Oh, that’s right.

My chest heaved as I looked down at my arm. All that remained was a stump. My destroyed space suit sleeve barely hid it. That was why I couldn’t pretend. I’d been missing part of myself ever since I’d left Epsilon. Sometimes I could still feel my arm, as if I’d never lost it to that red AI. That was why the reminder stung so much.

The rest of the interview was a complete blur. I don’t remember a word either of us said. I just remember a lot of laughing and applause. None of it was earned.

When I regained focus, I found myself sitting in President Frost’s cruiser. The inside was as purple as the outside. This thing held twenty seats, providing more than enough room for me, Frost, and her six bodyguards. One of them was actually driving the cruiser. Frost and I sat side by side in the seventh and eighth seats. She hummed to herself as she scrolled through her phone. I peered out my window and watched the buildings drift by. I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular. My mind was encased in fog.

“How do you think that went?” Frost asked as she looked up from her phone with a smile. Her green eyes exuded warmth behind her round glasses. Why did she even have glasses? I would have expected the President of the First Division to use surgery to repair her eyesight.

I sighed. “Poorly.”

She nodded, her magenta hair bun shifting with the movement. “I see. I won’t force you to say more.” She smiled like that was supposed to coerce me into saying more anyway. It didn’t. “Hopefully, next week’s appointment will have a more positive outcome. The Quasar Show gets even more viewers than Mr. Takalot’s program.” Frost stopped to giggle. “Apologies. His name is always amusing to say.”

Great, another interview where I’d have to pretend that I wanted to be there. It would have been better for everyone if I hadn’t shown up at all. Not that I’d had a choice. No one had a choice with President Frost. I’d encountered a lot of weirdness over the prior couple of months, and she had been the weirdest of them all. She hadn’t directly done anything bad to me, but she had been responsible for Effluvium’s destruction. She could also have restored Earth at any moment, but she refused to for whatever reason. Despite those crimes, she came off as a genuinely caring lady. That was the issue. When it came down to it, who was she?

None of that mattered at the moment. I had to be her friend because she was in control of the First Division army. I needed that army to save someone I’d lost, but, without Frost ordering them to, they wouldn’t. I had to be on her side, but being allies meant trusting each other. I had to trust that she’d listen to me…

“Frost…I don’t want to do the interview next week,” I said. “I don’t want to do any more interviews, period. They drive me insane. It’s like therapy, but it’s being broadcast to the galaxy! I’m not going anymore. No matter what.”

I braced myself for her reaction. Frost didn’t seem like the type of person who took no for an answer. She was basically my manager, so turning down interviews seemed like the exact kind of thing that would tick her off. I expected a speech about growing my career to begin at any second.

“All right then!” Frost said so cheerfully that I almost jumped. “You should have told me you felt that way earlier. I’ll cancel all your other interviews, and we can use that time for something else.”

Like real therapy? I’d pass on that too. My issues didn’t need analysis.

Wait, she wasn’t even mad?

“Oh, cool.” I leaned back into my seat. “Thanks.”

“Think nothing of it! I’d never make you do anything you didn’t wish to.”

I had once known a few hundred people who would have strongly disagreed…

“Ah!” My eyes snapped open.

I stared up at the white ceiling. The mattress I was lying on was firm. I wiped cold sweat from my forehead as I pushed myself up. Wrenches and screwdrivers littered the floor. Curtains covered the window, capturing the pale light. The whole room smelled like a high school gymnasium.

I was in my bedroom…again. Living with chronic nightmares wasn’t easy, but waking up and realizing that I wasn’t still on Epsilon helped a little. At that moment, I thought I spotted someone out of the corner of my eye. I turned toward them, my heart pounding. But my breath caught in my throat when I realized what it really was: my damaged space suit. It was blue and white and lived in my closet. I had previously thought of it as my full-time knight: one that would always watch over me. Now it was missing an arm, had a huge dent in its chest, and just reminded me of bad times. I couldn’t believe it still worked.

Once my heart had slowed down, I swung my legs over the side of my bed. The Sun hadn’t risen yet, but there was no point in lying around. I never went back to sleep after waking from nightmares. What I did do was make breakfast or whatever came before breakfast.

I stomped over to the kitchen. It was brighter than my room because its windows didn’t have curtains. There was nothing to stop the moonlight from entering. The entire not-planet lit up at night due to the Sun’s rays. The ground itself became illuminated. It was one of the coolest things about the Moon. Too bad it didn’t make living there worth it. I couldn’t even believe I was back on the Moon. I didn’t want to be back, but being away for so long had made me homesick. I would probably have been more excited if I had returned under better circumstances.

I pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed the bread and jelly. The peanut butter was out already. It was beside all the spices in the corner. The kitchen was nothing special: it had a fridge, a few cabinets, and an oven. All I cared about was the food, which I’d been helping myself to since my return. It was funny: when my parents had died, I had lost my appetite. Now I ate as much as I could in an attempt to fill the hole deep inside me.

I guess it wasn’t that funny.

“Wander? You’re up this early again?” asked the man in the doorway.

His brown eyes were full of concern as he gazed down at me. His black, bushy beard matched his long, shaggy hair, which was usually tied into a makeshift ponytail. His brown vest hung over a white shirt with oil smudges. He was Opifex, my godfather and the man who’d taught me everything I knew about technology. He had been my dad’s best friend and my favorite adult back when life had been simple.

“Hey, Opifex,” I said as I held up the bag of bread. “Want a morning sandwich?”

“Morning? You need to get back to bed, man,” he said. His Fourteenth Division accent reminded me of Kaela’s. It often emerged when he spoke his other language: Spanish, I think it was called. “Your body’s going to collapse from all this sleep loss.”

“Lots of people get up early. It’s so they can get more out of the day.” I fiddled with the clip that was keeping the bread bag closed. I kept trying to hold the bag down with my right arm until I realized that would never work. The worst part about having lost it was that I was right-handed. Instead of things being twice as hard to do, they were about four times as hard. “What about you? You’re up too.”

“Ma woke me up and asked for agua.” Opifex went to the cabinet and took out a glass. He gazed down at me as I continued to struggle with the bag. I knew what was going through his head, and I knew what he wanted to ask before the words left his mouth. “You need some help with that, man?”

“No!” I chomped on the bag and yanked the clip off. Chuckling triumphantly, I reached into it and took out some slices. “See? I can do everything myself.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. Chill, bud.”

“See, that’s the problem, Op. You don’t have to say it anymore. I just see the sympathy in everyone’s eyes now, and it makes me feel pathetic. I’m so sick of being pitied.”

I gritted my teeth as I grabbed the peanut butter jar and tried to unscrew it. Tears welled up when I was unable to do it. Why? Why had this happened to me? All I’d ever done was protect as many people as I could. I’d fought and nearly died for my friends. I’d shocked a few people with electricity, but they had been criminals. They’d done terrible things, and they still hadn’t had this happen to them!

Opifex sighed. “Let me help, mijo. You can’t—”

“I can!” Rage filled me as I turned to face him. I accidentally smacked the glass out of his hands. It shattered against the floor a few feet away. My stomach dropped, and I shrank in shame. “Oh no. Opifex, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’ll clean it up.”

He shook his head. “I got it, man.” He walked to the cabinet beneath the sink and rummaged through it. I felt so awful about the whole situation that I didn’t even feel like eating anymore. So I glanced at the untouched peanut butter and walked out of the kitchen. “Wait, Wander.” I turned back toward Opifex, who had raised his head. “What happened to us, man? You and me used to be tight, but then you went off on that crazy adventure—without telling me—and came back a different person. I’m not just talking about your arm either.”

I furrowed my brow. “A lot happened on that ‘adventure.’ A lot of bad things. I bonded with people and then had them ripped away. I’m not looking to go through that ever again. If that means losing the few friends I have left…then whatever.”

Opifex lowered his head and went back to the glass. There was no doubt that my answer had disappointed him. It had disappointed me too. My answer had been genuine, but it hadn’t been the full story. It was just too early for me to socialize again. I didn’t need anyone besides the people who could contribute to my goal. Opifex was just a cool uncle. He wasn’t as responsible and hardened as Manning or as powerful as Frost.

I gasped as I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. To relieve the pain, I grabbed at it but then came to the usual realization. I gritted my teeth and marched back to my room.

Time passed, the Sun rose, and I made plans for the day. Since returning to the Moon, I’d only done what Frost had told me to. She hadn’t said it, but she was desperate to establish the “Epsilon Explorer” brand. That was her idea, not mine. If I was going to get my strength back, I had to make my own decisions. No more lying around…well, less lying around anyway.

My plans were nothing groundbreaking; I just wanted to visit the other adult in my life. I already did that all the time, but this time we had something specific to discuss.

Opifex’s cruiser reeked of old, rusty tools and it was quieter than a library. He hadn’t even looked at me since I’d climbed inside. I appreciated the ride he was giving me, but I wished it was less awkward. Watching the world drift by outside, I rested my head against my palm. I sure hadn’t missed the Moon’s “diverse” environments while I had been away: nothing but white, powdery grass broken up by buildings and empty roads.

“We’re here, esé.” Opifex tapped my shoulder.

Adrenaline coursed through me. My heartbeat quickened as I whipped around in search of the danger. All I saw was a plain-looking brown house. I hated that. The last time it had happened was when Opifex had slammed the fridge a little too hard. I’d jumped and thought I’d seen people moving out the corner of my eye for an hour. Sometimes I wished that I’d died when my arm had disintegrated because I barely considered this living.

I took a deep breath. “Thanks…and thanks for the ride too. Don’t worry about picking me up. I have plans after this.”

I reached around and opened my door with my left arm. I’d underestimated how hard it would be to open doors with one arm. As I climbed out, I took another deep breath of the lunar air. I was so used to the awful Earth air that this was a luxury by comparison.

“My Ma worries about you, man,” Opifex said as he fiddled with a loose panel on his bronze space suit. “Imagine that: a sick, elderly woman is more worried about some kid than herself. You two aren’t even related, but she’s always treated you like you were.” He looked up, making eye contact. I immediately turned away. “You should talk to her. I’ll be at the shop if you need anything. I doubt you will, but, you know…doesn’t hurt to try.”

I nodded and shut the door behind me. Opifex wasted no time in speeding off. My heart sank as I accepted his words. We really had drifted apart.

I walked up to the brown house and knocked on the front door. It took a solid minute for it to swing open, revealing a tall, black man with a wrinkled face. In his defense, those wrinkles only showed when he smiled.

“Wander,” Manning said as he gestured inside. “Come in, please! I just finished the hot chocolate.”

I couldn’t resist smiling. “In August? Okay, but you’re lucky I’d never turn down chocolate.”

Manning’s house smelled like coffee, chocolate, and every single cleaning product in the galaxy. The TV, carpet, fireplace, and even the curtains were spotless. His kitchen was twice as big as Opifex’s and cleaner too. I couldn’t believe that, after everything, Manning had retained his need for cleanliness. It was borderline inspiring. I hadn’t even touched a tool since I’d come back…

We collected our chocolate and sat on the living room couch. The last time I’d been on this thing, all three of us had been together: Manning, me, and…

Manning clutched his steaming mug close as he examined me. “It’s always lovely to see you, Wander. How have things been going with that Oplex fellow you live with?”

I was struggling to hold my cup with one hand, but the hot chocolate was worth it. “As if I’d believe that you’d forget his name. Your brain is a supercomputer, remember? Look, I know it sucks that we don’t live together anymore, but Opifex was my godfather first. You don’t have to be salty toward him.”

“I’m not. It’s just that our situation is…unfortunate. After what we’ve been through, we need to stick together. No one else could understand what we’ve lived through, believe me. I’ve been here before. Anyway, I’ll hold on to the hope that our circumstances will change someday.”

“Someday soon if I have anything to say about it. You remember how I wanted to talk to Frost about the rescue? I think today’s the day. I canceled all my stupid interviews, so now I even have the time for it.”

Manning’s face fell. “Darn, there goes my entertainment for the mouth. I might as well sell my television.” He smirked as he noticed my glare. “I’m merely teasing. Although, in all seriousness…are you sure you’re ready to head out?”

I rolled my eyes. “I knew this was coming. Listen, I know I can’t fight or even strategize too well in my position, but what else can we do? It’s already been a month. Do you realize that this is the third person I’ve let the AI take? I’ve failed twice already, and I can’t afford to fail this time. Losing an arm? Please. I’d do this even if I was just a head attached to a torso.”

If an AI even stomped in my direction, it’d send me and my fragile mind running. I knew that, but I refused to accept it. How could I? Frost and her troops couldn’t be trusted to rescue my friend. If I had to be reduced to a spectator, then at least I’d still be going.

Manning sighed as he pushed up his glasses. “If you’re prepared, then prove it to me. Remember what you asked me to do a few weeks ago? Would you mind if I initiated it again? To measure your progress?”

Progress? Have I made any progress in that time?

“Give me a second.” I set my room-temperature chocolate on the floor. I wasn’t about to repeat what had happened in Opifex’s kitchen. Leaning back on the couch, I shut my eyes. “Okay, do it.”

The weight on the couch shifted as Manning stood up. I relaxed my mind and steeled it at the same time. Manning rested a hand on my forehead. I was still getting used to his memory power, but it sure was cool. My ears rang as everything melted away. The room’s scent faded, only to be replaced by the exact same scent. But there was something extra this time: a hint of lemon.

A door frame materialized before me, and a panting girl stood in it. She was the source of the lemony aroma. Judging by her fiery red hair, the girl was none other than…Ms. Genki.

“Hey, Instructor!” she said between exaggerated huffs. Despite her exhaustion, she beamed at me. “Sorry I’m late. It was a longer walk than I’d thought.”

I blinked in surprise. “Walk? Ms. Genki, did you truly walk here from your home? Why didn’t you ask your friend, Mr. Locke, for a ride?”

She scoffed. “No reason to bother him. I knew I could do this myself, so I did! Can I come into your hopefully air-conditioned house?”

Astounding. This young lady didn’t merely put others above herself, she seemed to have little regard for herself. I knew she and Mikey’s grandson were close, but to walk miles just to avoid bothering him—I mean, me?

Laura knew I’d have made time for her! I’d gone to the movies with her on Beth’s birthday. That had been the whole reason why I hadn’t been there when the AI had invaded and…

The corners of my vision grew hazy, but the scene played on. “Please, come in. I’ll fetch you some water, and then we can begin the tutoring session.”

She nodded, still beaming as her face faded away. “Sounds good! Seriously though, you’ve got air conditioning, right?”

Her voice grew distant, like she was walking away. I reached out for her, but my arm didn’t move in the memory. I walked away from her instead.

No, no! This isn’t what I want to do. Go back! I need to find her!

I screamed and collapsed against the couch. The feeling returned to my body. Colors and shapes blurred before detail was ultimately restored. Manning was down on one knee, and he was shielding his face. Was he trying to get his golden eyes under control? I wiped my own eyes, refusing to even acknowledge the tears this time. I’d cried one time too many.

“I know what you’re thinking, but my mind didn’t break.” I massaged my head. “That means I’m fine, right? I’m ready!”

“No, it doesn’t.” Manning lowered his hand, revealing a tear-stained face. He sniffed as he met my gaze. “Neither of us is.”

Oh, Manning! The downside to his memory power was that he had to relive his memories too. That was why he couldn’t use it too often. I climbed down and wrapped my arm around my former instructor. We were technically the only confirmed survivors of what had happened. Laura had been captured, Kaela had gone back to the Oppressed base, Surge had given us to Frost so that my wounds could be treated, and Rebecca Stein’s and Dylan’s fates were unclear. I didn’t think either of them was dead, but I didn’t want to ask Manning about it.

“Yeah, you’re right. Neither of us is ready.” I forced a chuckle. “That doesn’t mean we can’t try. We’re her family, after all.”

He sniffed. “It’s illogical to embark on an adventure in such a state. Luckily, logic exited our lives long ago. If you are willing to go, then so am I. I didn’t want to resume my instructing job anyway.”

Manning and I: a two-man crew. It was a good start or, at least, good enough.