This computer functioned differently than Finn's computer at home, and it took some minutes to get used to its controls. He entered keywords such as signal, coordinates, and KTD, but nothing could be found that would resolve Finn's issue. 

He hadn't come this far to then give up, he firmly believed there must be a way to send a message to the rescue cell and to find out who was trapped inside of it. He fished around for as long as a third of an hour until even his last idea had failed to show results.

"Nothing," he muttered in disappointment.

Up until then, every step of his plan had smoothly come to reality; first, he had his father's permission to visit his work, now he was lucky enough to get unsupervised access to a KSP computer. If the answer was somewhere to be found, it would be right there, right in front of him, so why was he still empty-handed? 

Out of frustration, he pushed himself away from the desk. The chair rolled so little, that his fingers could still reach the edge of the counter without getting up. 

The window's glass behind the desk mirrored the image of Finn. He made eye contact with himself and looked into his own embittered face, which had slowly drowned in doubt.

"Don't look at me like that," he demanded his reflection.

As he pulled himself back towards the table, his eyes caught the bold headline of the article that Christopher had recently thrown away. 

An idea formed in Finn's head. His focus had been too enclosed, and he began to question whether he shouldn't limit his search to a method of contacting the cell. 

In the bin endured the paper, crumpled up and ripped apart from its additional pages, and although it didn't differ much from rubbish, Finn wondered if it was the clue he had been missing all along. KSP's travelship (A154) disappeared, was the hint upon which Finn's idea was built. 109 passengers gone.

"Nitha," thought Finn when he read those numbers. The numbers that were insignificant enough to end up in someone's trash. "You are one——of one hundred nine."

He placed his fingers on the keyboard and with growing tension, he entered the ship's name: A154. A file with the same name popped up.

"No way."

The screens worked over touch, and with an unsteady finger, Finn approached to expose whatever hid inside the file. As he pressed on the icon, a knock against the door caused panic. Frightened of getting caught at snooping, Finn prepared to end his search and cover up his trails, but before he could close the file, he noticed that it had never even opened. 

A password was required, which led Finn to feel betrayed. His theory, that KSP knows what happened to the lost spaceship, was supported by the security applied to keep whatever information stashed away.

The knocking repeated, and once the computer looked identical to how it did before Finn's mischief, he opened the door. Dr. Roberts invited himself in, and in his hand, he held a brown folder with Finn Clarkson written on it.

"I've returned to bring you your results! I see your father isn't back yet."

"Then you need to get new glasses!" said Christopher, who had just arrived at the office and was standing behind Dr. Roberts at the door. "Finn, I have some—" Christopher struggled to find a fitting word— "interesting news."

It would have been catastrophic if Finn's father would have reached the office before Dr. Roberts. Christopher wouldn't have knocked, he would have entered instantaneously without an announcement, and if that would have been the case, gruesome consequences could have followed. Mercifully, it was the other way around.

"Looks like my mission was pushed forward. I'm not leaving in three weeks anymore, I must go tonight."

"Tonight?" ensured Finn astounded and raised his voice.

"Tonight. Technically tomorrow, we launch at two in the morning."

"What is so urgent that the departure was moved from three weeks down the road, to fifteen hours from now."

Christopher walked to his computer, while Finn held his breath. His father set down in his leathery chair and typed in his password. It was long, impossible for Finn to memorize even if he had been able to see it. 

Christopher opened a folder and then more subfolders until an image appeared on the large wall-covering screen.

"This is Pluviam5A3," said Christopher, pointing at the image of a planet with colors of amber and rust. With his father's informative and calm words, Finn sensed no sign of anger, and he then knew that he had successfully avoided leaving clues, which could have led someone to suspect Finn for his actions. He was finally able to breathe.

"Pluviam5A3 is a small planet with radioactive storms, which damage the citizens' homes all year round. Habitable areas were limited and just enough was provided to build one city. The people who live there are confronted by unavoidable, life-threatening challenges each day as it is, but then, to cause more hardship, a horrifying superstorm is currently destroying their only space station."

Christopher switched the view on the screen to a live transmission of the storm. The city was dark, wearing a mantle of fog, objects came flying by the camera while in the distance purple lightning continuously struck.

"We forecasted the storm will pass in a few weeks, that's when we would have flown there, but apparently their systems are offline completely, and the security systems are all defect."

Finn's attentiveness doubled at those words. If the security system was defective, no passwords were required to access any information.

Finn wondered silently, "Is this my golden ticket? Is this step three to my staggering plan?"

"It has become KSP's first priority to secure their files and software."

Keeping his ideas unspoken, Finn thought warily, "Oh, I'm sure it is. The question is, why?" His head was divided between his own thoughts and the attempt to paying attention to his father's presentation.

"Our most experienced IT employee will come along to secure the processors and machines once the main station is rebuilt. It might only take a couple of days before we leave again, and I was chosen to attend and fix any destruction the storms might cause on the rocket."

"May I join?" burst out of Finn, unbridled, before he finished his own thoughts.

His father, confounded and tongue-tied, scuffled to find the right reaction to Finn's irrational request until he calmly chose to decline.

"I'm afraid not," said Christopher and turned off the projection. "You aren't even an intern, yet."

"Actually—" said Dr. Roberts, who had patiently waited at the door to present the conclusion of Finn's exams. Full of joy, he got his word at last. "He passed all his tests," revealed the wrinkled man.

"He did?" asked Christopher by surprise.

"Certainly," while looking at Finn, Dr. Roberts explicated, "Young man, congratulations are in order. You passed with flying colors, and outclassed any remaining applicants."

Exuberance stood in the room like a fourth person. It was indisputable that Finn's success satisfied Dr. Roberts in every shape and form. His pride was unscathed when his predictions about Finn's aptitude for science proved him right.

"Frankly, I'm quite dazed," said the father and turned to his son in sincerity to confront him. "Finn, did you cheat?"

"Excuse me?" Finn's jaw dropped. He negated the accusation. "I was unaware I'd be tested today, in point of fact, I was standing right here, in this room with you, when I was informed such a test existed to begin with. Besides, twenty-five percent was a physical challenge. How would I cheat at that?"

"Fair point," admitted his father with guilt.

"Whatever your son's IQ is, it's surely above average," mentioned Dr. Roberts with a slight undertone of gratification.

"Well," Christopher smiled and crossed his arms, "I already knew that he was smart, I'm more surprised he passed his physical trial."

"Watch it, dad," warned Finn squinting, yet couldn't keep himself from smirking.

Christopher leaned against his desk and pondered. "Would you really be interested to travel to Pluviam?"

Finn took his time to answer. His father acknowledged his agreement, meanwhile, Finn was in dispute with himself, about the decision whether or not he should attempt such a dangerous journey when the chances of it leading towards a dead-end outmatched those of it leading to Nitha.

"Yes."

"So be it. I'll notify the team." 

Christopher adjusted his glasses, then he stepped forward to reach for his son's hand. "Phineas Clarkson, it is my distinct honor to name you KSP's summer intern." 

His fist punched Finn's biceps, and both manifested half a grin. "Proud of you, boy. Now then, preparation must be made prior to departure. We better get going."

Although Finn was tortured by a million questions, he remained as silent as the eye of a hurricane, or as calm as the beach the day before a tsunami; while the world around him spat pure madness, he himself was discreet, at least for now he tried his best to behave unobtrusively.

It was possibly due to his undivided attention to his father's instructions. He recognized the gravity of immaculate performance and the obligation to obey. On the other hand, he may have been reserved and mute for the same reason he had let his love leave; he simply didn't know what to say.

As father and son left the office, the old man followed, up until they passed by his office.

"Phineas, I am looking forward to working with you when you return from your mission. Until then, I wish you nothing but the best."

"Thank you, Dr. Bradley Roberts. I am eager to present my foremost potential."

After Dr. Roberts had disappeared behind his office door, Finn found an empty bathroom, where he was able to make a quick call.

"Aren't you at KSP right now?" asked Blake muddled, whose face was displayed on Finn's phone.

"I don't have much time," highlighted Finn, "I just gravely need to tell you something."

He talked under his breath, for his voice echoed off the walls, and he panting without rhythm.

"Tell it then," ordered Blake with curiosity.

"First of all, I'm an intern now."

"Finn!"

"There is more," Finn paced from stall to stall. "I'm flying into space."

"Come again?"

"Tonight," added Finn.

"Tonight?" Blake jumped off his seat and untied a nervous laughter. "You're kidding," spoke his disbelief.

"I'm not sure if this may be a dream either."

"A dream? No. This is a nightmare! You can't go!"

"I have to," affirmed Finn. "I can't give you the details of my reasoning right now. My dad thinks I'm using the restroom, and if I'm in here for any longer than a minute, he'll think I'm ill. I just—I just have to do this. I'll explain it all to you when I'm given the time. I'll be back soon."

"Good luck," said his worried friend, shaking his head.