Finn and his father proceeded to an elevator, which brought them to an underground storage hall. It was pitch black until they moved forward and the motion-triggered lights turned on. High shelves stacked boxes and containers, row after row. Each one was numbered, starting at one and ending at sixty. 

Christopher held a clipboard with a blog of grid paper, and a pen to write down any object or tools he chose to bring along on the flight. If he were to fix a dysfunctional piece of the ship but were missing spare parts, it could put the whole crew at risk of death.

"It's essential that we are prepared for the worst, so I'm writing down every item needed for the trip, then it's the storage department's job to stash those objects onto the ship."

Finn listened closely and shadowed his father for the remnant of the morning. At noon, they aimed to rest on the forty-third floor, which consisted of a break room, a silent room, a kitchen, and the dining hall, which entailed the largest area of the floor, designed with the purpose of the workers consuming their lunch with a breathtaking view.

The KSP building had eighty-six stories, and the room in which Finn and Christopher stood, defined where the buildings' horizontally equal halves touched. It was the architect's idea to meet all worker's fairest convenience when heading to this room for a break.

Christopher and Finn sat down at a large rounded table, covered by a white silk cloth and a set of plates, silverware, a wine glass, a regular glass, and a napkin on each of the six open spots. Four seats remained available.

"I asked some of my dearest friends to eat with us. I would like them to meet you."

"And I would like them to explain why they'd be friends with you," joked Finn.

"Just you wait, I'll get you back for that," threatened his father in a quick whisper, and waved with a smile at his three friends standing near the entrance. As they spotted the table and began to approach, Finn stood up and shortly after shook each scientist's hand.

At the table now sat, in addition to Finn and his father, a circle of astronauts, consisting of spacecraft communicator Dr. Andromeda Greene, flight surgeon Dr. Dae-Hyun Choe, and the pilot and commander of the mission; Dr. Neil Hajo Adams. Although Christopher introduced each by their full names, they all insisted to be called by their first names. 

Although Christopher introduced each by their full names, they all insisted to be called by their first names.

Another man joined, though Finn already knew him, for he had been to their apartment in the past. His name was Dr. Nathaniel O'Brien, a computer science expert and neuroscientist. Finn had always felt a little intimidated by him and his comments, and while Andy spoke to Finn, he waited stoically for the expected criticism.

"We are one big family here at Kepler Space Program," said Andromeda, "so please, call me Andy."

A wholesome woman with braided brown hair, so dingy, it could have been mistaken for black. Despite her eyes exhibiting shades of dark chocolate, when she smiled, those eyes bestowed her personal sphere with a positive aura.

"Agreed," announced the korean man sitting next to her. "Everyone just calls me Day," he shrugged his shoulders and his smile broadened, "you know, because they can't pronounce my real name."

Day gave a sympathetic first impression. He must have been in his late twenties or early thirties at least, in order to be a flight surgeon, though his energized behavior, his skinny body, and lack of facial hair, let him come across like a teenager.

He had a full head of hair, one streak even hung down to his eyes, and his skin was spotless and pale. As Finn observed the group, he speculated that Day was never taken seriously by the other authorities, yet he was adored and favored, and never failed to make them laugh. 

Hajo, sipping on his glass of water, rolled his eyes pitiful, yet amused, at Day's dry joke. He was moderately riper than the others, nonetheless, he was well built and tough. With roots of grey and a stubble, he looked like a father, and still, his skin had stayed young, with only two wrinkles near his eyes, which added charm and the hint of a drive for adventure. 

Between Hajo and Christopher sat Nathan, now the only man still wearing a lab coat. His jawline, sharp like the blade of a sword, let one assume he was trained, his body, however, looked lissom rather than bulky. His head was shaved like the one of a soldier, his eyebrows were groomed, and small blue eyes judged beneath them.

"I'm going to say what we all think," with his chin up high, Nathan addressed Finn, "under no regular condition would we permit an intern to attend such a multiplex mission."

"No one thinks that, but you, Nathan" corrected Andy, then placed her hand compassionately on Finn's upper back. "You're very welcome to join us in space."

"I'm just saying he has zero experience, he is not trained, he doesn't have the knowledge. If he gets hurt, we are the ones responsible."

"I'll follow your commands," promised Finn politely. "Obedience will be my most pressing matter."

"Many kids his age have traveled through the galaxies unharmed," stated Hajo. "Even senior citizens find comfort in our ships."

"We're not flying to some vacation resort," argued Nathan. "We are flying to Pluviam, one of the most dangerous inhabited planets. Pluviam5A3 is not a playground. Trying to land a rocket during a superstorm could end fatally."

"We are aware," said Day while pushing his chair away from the table. "Now can we please get some food? Otherwise I'll be starved before the superstorm gets a chance to kill me."

As three members of the group showed Finn the buffet while keenly asking him questions about school and his hobbies, Nathan stayed behind to have a word with Christopher.

"Chris," said Nathan with locked hands behind his back. He walked towards the wall next to their table and stopped when his toes nearly touched the window. The wall was fully made of glass. His eyes streaked the landscape, his posture was unswerving. "We've known each other for so long. We're best friends, like brothers."

"When you aren't attacking my son, yes." Christopher stood six feet away, looking at Nathan from behind.

"And as your friend I must tell you; I'm worried."

"About—?"

Nathan turned around. "Phineas."

"Nathan," said Christopher as an attempt to calm his friend, who refused to let him try.

"The boy is going to get hurt! He doesn't know what to do in the case of an emergency. What will you command him to do when micrometeoroids cause a hole in the hull? What if a faulty lithium-perchlorate canister ignites too quickly and begins to burn? What if——you're forced to perform an extravehicular activity, and fail to return?"

"That's not going to happen."

"Wake up, Chris! All of those situations have happened before and aren't unlikely to reoccur."

"I know that," said Christopher, yet clearly in dispute," I meant I'm not going to fail. That has never happened before, and won't happen any time soon."

"Nothing guarantees that."

Finn and the rest returned with their plates. As Christopher and Nathan still stood near the table, the scientists and Finn began to eat.

"Excuse me," said Nathan to his dining friends, "I've got some more research to finish, and papers to write. I'll meet you for the check-up later." He left with the unresolved annoyance he had come with.

"So," began Finn as he separated his vegetables from the chicken breast, "what will happen next?"

"While I have to help with preparations on the ship, Day will take you to his clinic and examine your medical condition," explained Christopher.

"Your health has to be good enough to become an astronaut," said Day. "Be sure to eat your vegetables," he attached with a friendly chuckle, while throwing an obvious look on Finn's untouched cherry tomatoes.

Finn pricked the salad with his fork, and followed with more questions. "If we aren't going home today, what clothes will we wear throughout the mission?"

"KSP provides our wardrobe," said Andy.

"Luckily!" Day shook his head no, "My fashion taste makes people sick!"

"Says the medical doctor," teased Hajo. He loved picking on Day.

"And what's the estimated travel time?" asked Finn.

"We will be in zero gravity for a period of time," answered Andy. "Two weeks, was it?"

"Thirteen days to be exact," said Hajo and leaned back in his chair. "Finn, have you ever wondered about Einstein-Rosen bridges?"

"Wormholes?" simplified Finn. "I don't conjecture about them unless I'm asked to. They are theoretical tunnels through space-time, which, hypothetically speaking, could allow anything that enters it, to cross the universe faster than the speed of light. This theory is ancient, and further from reality than it is to science fiction."

"What makes you say that?" asked Andy.

"Of course it's not proven, but my opinion is shared by some of the smartest humans to ever live. Let's assume we spotted such a shortcut, near enough to reach it—In a world based on facts it would still take a deadly amount of time until someone was to exit it, thanks to time dilation, and an attempt to superluminal travel would be a failure, because wormholes are bound by gravity's speed limit. To cross space immediately, we would need a traversable wormhole, and exotic matter to keep it open. Otherwise you'd be stuck on the other side."

Finn had robbed the crew of word. His knowledge about space and time was highly advanced compared to other interns of his age.

"Sounds lonely," Day said, breaking the silence. "Unless—Does the other side have pretty ladies?"

Andy shoved him in disgust and told him to hold his tongue.

"I suppose your assumptions about the universe aren't far fetched, but it must cause perplexity that we aren't using teleportation," presumed Hajo on the bases of probability. 

"After all, we teleport objects, why not ourselves?" His motive for the query was to elucidate and teach Finn quantum physics. Hajo withdrew his position and leaned forward. His elbows were each placed beside his plate, and his chin rested on the back of his combined fingers.

Without hesitation, Finn spoke his answer. 

"It's not an option, because teleportation is roughly a combination of a successfully cloned structure at a new location, and the following destruction of the original matter. This indicates that a 'new' version of the traveler replaces the now dead, 'old' version. Although the recreation would in every way be identical to its reference, humans can't ignore that killing one of the two existing equals is a part of the process. And that just feels inhumane."

"That pretty much sums it up," admitted Hajo, defeated.

"Your son is smart," whispered Day across the table, purposefully loud enough for Christopher and everyone else to hear, "I wonder where he gets that from. He definitely didn't get it from you."

The sun had reached the west, and kissed the horizon. The evening showed a blue sky, blending into yellow, with clouds of pink roaming through the vastness.

"All done," said Day and pulled a syringe, filled with blood, out of Finn's arm. "The lab will give us the results in about one hour. Until then, we'll go get your spacesuit fitted."

"I didn't know you wear custom fits," said Finn, who was sitting on the edge of an examination table.

"Of course! You're tall, and in space you'll be even taller. We want you to be cozy in your suit."

"I'll grow in space?"

"Not quite. Right now, gravity pushes you down, but in space, where there is no gravity, every gap between your bones gets to be a little more—airy. Thus, your body stretches."

"Will it hurt?"

"Some astronauts experience back pain, but it's nothing serious and won't be permanent."

They picked up the suits two floors below Dr. Choe's clinic, and once it was clear that Finn was in great condition, they took the elevator to get to the bottom floor, where Andy, Hajo, and Nathan awaited.

"Where is my father?"

"He's at Fortem," replied Hajo. Fortem was the name of the rocket. "Let's go."

Finn's heart sank and his stomach did somersaults. Immediately, he felt the unbearable urge to go home, and continuous effort could not convince his mind that he wasn't afraid, so he tried to at least convince his body (nausea crawled up his throat). 

Be that as it may, Finn walked with the crew across the plain to get to the rocket. Tanking had just begun, and five hours remained until launch.

At midnight, the last crew member, Kendra Bates, arrived at the launch vehicle, and shortly before the team ingressed the rocket, Finn asked his father for a minute in privacy. In their spacesuits, they sat down on a bench in the changing room.

"Dad," began Finn, "were you nervous before your first flight?"

"Nervous?" Christopher laughed. "No."

Finn's head dropped in embarrassment.

"I was terrified," concluded Christopher.

Finn looked up to his father. Even more than before.

"Before I entered the rocket on the day of my first flight, I took two small steps back. Part of me wanted to run, but I knew I hadn't come this far to flee just yet. My heart pounded in my ears, I remember it so vividly, this bitter taste in the back of my mouth—I couldn't seem to get rid of it."

Finn felt all that. He hated every bit of it.

"But," Christopher grabbed his son's shoulder, "there is nothing wrong with that. There hasn't been a single astronaut who didn't have a scared bone in their body. An astronaut who isn't a little concerned is doing something wrong. Apprehension is natural, and it's an overly logical reaction of our brains to scream for serenity. The importance lies in consciousness; keep a clear mind. Remember that fear feeds off inaction, that's how it becomes powerful enough to determine one's fate. If you decide not to nourish its needs, it'll never have that power over you. My teacher once told me that bravery is not defined by those who don't fear, but by those who conquer fear. I will stand toe-to-toe with my nightmares, because I've seen what's up there in space, and no agitation, no panic, no doubt could be strong enough to beat my will to see it again. You must see it with your own eyes, and you'll understand why I'm pulled by its magnificence. All I can tell you is; every step of my way was worth everything it took, even those two steps back."

"Really? Why also those?"

"Because that was the first, and the last time I ever stepped back. At that moment I felt doubt, but it wasn't coming from the danger that stood before me, no, I was doubting myself. Despite my training, despite my endless-seemingly hours of studying, despite my undeniable capacity and quality of actions, I started to doubt myself. Son, we can't always control what happens to us, but you can always control your own actions. I know I'm good at my job, and those men and women out there, who are ready to launch, are the best at their job. You are in good hands, I can promise that."

Finn swallowed heavily but managed to nod.

"If you need to stay on the ground, no one will be in your way, but don't let it be decided by fear or self-doubt."

"No, I'm coming with you," responded Finn sincerely.

Both rose, and Finn's drive was activated alike the push of a button.

"And Finn?"

"Hm?" hummed Finn mindful.

"Let's keep the whole story about me being terrified a secret, yes?

"You got it, dad." Finn tittered.

The astronaut and astronaut-to-be left the room to reunite with the crew. Less than two hours remained until launch. The team found their place in the rocket and prepared for take-off. Finn hadn't overcome his worries, but he was now aching to conquer his fear.