Optimal atmosphere...

Optimal pressure...

Optimal gravity...

All systems functional...

Deactivation of impact chairs in 3...2...1...

The silver skin of the lone impact chair began to move as the occupant regained consciousness. Its metallic surface warmed and thinned. The shape of a hand stretched out, pulling the liquid metal. With a sudden burst the hand was free.

Grasping the arm of the chair, the hand flexed and pulled. A face began to form at the top of the chair as the person trapped inside pulled himself free. The metal stretched and turned whitish-grey as it thinned, and then snapped. The tear spread down the surface of the chair. The occupant plunged forward and spilled onto the floor.

Still clinging to his boxers, Willard lay on the floor, shivering and covered in slime. His teeth chattered as he squinted his eyes against the sun-like lights recessed into the ceiling of his quarters.

Willard let out a light groan as he stood to his feet, careful not to slip and fall. He rolled his head on his neck and scanned his quarters. The room was identical to the one he'd had during training. Not much for hominess, but it got the job done. The bed was firm and small, but comfortable. The living space was cramped by American standards, spacious by Japanese, but provided enough room to do pushups and crunches.

Willard turned his attention to the small bathroom. Like everything else, it was small, but functional. The water pressure, at least on earth, had been superb and the hot water was instant and relaxing. Willard thought it was strange that as he thought about the hot shower, his mouth began to water. It was then, he realized, that he was extremely hungry.

But food would have to wait. The slime coating, which was beginning to chill his extremities needed to be washed away. Willard stepped into the small bathroom, dropped his boxers into the sink and slid into the shower. He rested his head on the shower stall wall and sighed.

Reaching down, Willard took hold of the shower knob and turned on just the hot. There was a pause as air was noisily forced from the unused pipes. Willard rolled his eyes and thought about the shower in his Moab, Utah apartment. He'd stayed in Moab for two years, working at a gas station and mountain biking on the weekends. That was the beginning of his love for all things extreme, but no one else in Utah was- His mind cleared with the realization that he was awake. And that meant he was in orbit around Europa, a moon of Jupiter-in space!

He was about to let out a victory cheer when the telltale pops and gurgling noises of approaching water caught his attention. It burst from the shower head and coated Willard's body.

He let out a scream and struggled to shield himself from the jet of water, shouting, "Cold! Cold!"

Connelly reclined in her chair positioned on the side of a very long, oval table. The chair, which was vaguely shaped like a clamshell felt strangely comfortable. Peterson and Choi sat across from her, while Robert was to her right and Captain Harris was seated at the head of the table. All were freshly showered and had completed the three month journey in perfect health.

Peterson shifted in his chair. "Should someone go look for him?"

Robert nodded. "Maybe his impact chair malfunctioned?"

"Unlikely," Choi said. "All systems are green across the board. His chair deactivated with the others."

Robert twisted his lips in thought. "Ethan has been known to take long showers."

"Malfunctioning chair or long shower," Harris said, "It doesn't change the fact that we have a schedule to keep."

Connelly sighed. "I'll go find him." Connelly stood and turned to the entryway.

The doors slid open and Willard walked in wearing a blue bathrobe and a white towel wrapped around his head. "Doesn't this billion dollar spaceship have hot water?"

"Of course." Harris said. "Why?"

"I prefer my drinking water ice cold, and my shower molten hot. The showers here-not hot. Very cold." Ethan took the empty seat to the right of Robert.

Connelly sat back down. "Mine was fine."

Choi made eye contact with Willard. "Maybe someone thought you needed a cold shower?" She smiled sarcastically.

"Was that a joke?" Willard said. "You joke? And, by the way, I haven't forgotten that trick you played before we left."

Robert turned to Willard. "What trick?"

Willard took a deep breath. "I was having trouble getting into-"

"Gentlemen." Harris's voice was calm but firm. "We have more important things than cold showers to talk about."

"Right," Willard said. "Europa.... But this doesn't feel any different. Can we see Europa? Jupiter? Is there a window nearby?"

Harris smiled ever so slightly. "Glad you mentioned it. First on our agenda is a quick training on how to access the windows on Surveyor."

"But there are no windows," Willard said.

"Actually," Choi said, "We're surrounded by windows."

Everyone searched the smooth paneled surface of the curved ceiling and walls.

"I don't see any," Robert said. "Are they hidden?"

Harris pulled a small remote control device, the size of a credit card, from his jumpsuit pocket. "In a manner of speaking." Harris put the remote control on the table so that everyone could see it. "Some of you may have noticed a small remote in the desk drawer of your quarters. Additionally, you will find a remote, identical to this one, in every room on board Surveyor that has at least one outer hull wall. You'll also all receive your own personal remote, which you can carry with you at all times."

Peterson took the remote and inspected it. "There's only one button." He looked at Harris. "What does it do?"

"Lights," Harris said to no one in particular. The lights, which streamed up from where the floor met the walls, dimmed until the room was pitch black. "Now point the remote at the ceiling and push the button."

Connelly couldn't see Peterson comply, but after ten second she noticed a change in the ceiling. It began to glow white, gently becoming translucent.

Harris began to speak as whatever was happening to the ceiling, continued. "Several of the hull's interior and exterior panels are made from a new material that becomes transparent when a specific electrical charge is applied. Just point the remote at almost any portion of the outer hull and..."

Within fifteen seconds, the majority of the ceiling had become completely transparent. Connelly gasped.

"...Voila!" Harris said.

Before them was a spectacle no human had ever seen before. Taking up a large portion of the view was Europa, which was bright white, crisscrossed with crimson lines that looked like scars. She could see it so perfectly, so clearly, all her problems with this mission were forgotten. She smiled widely. This was a moon sized Antarctica!

Connelly looked left and gasped again. Jupiter was there, but it wasn't the still shot of Jupiter people are used to seeing. It was fluid and active. Swirls of yellow, orange and red churned over the surface of the planet. Connelly knew that Jupiter was the largest, most powerful of the planets, but to her, from this perspective, it looked fragile.

The conference room glowed light orange from the light reflecting from Jupiter and Europa. Connelly's eyes adjusted, and she could see the rest of the crew, all looking up, mouths open wide.

Robert started to speak. "Oh my... That's, ahh, that's..."

"Incredible," Connelly finished.

Robert nodded.

"I can't believe it," Peterson said, his voice soft with awe. "Jupiter..."

"You're looking at the largest planet in our solar system folks. She's composed of hydrogen, helium, water, nitrogen-swirling around a tiny, super-dense core. She's beautiful, but deadly. Insurmountable pressure and extreme radiation make Jupiter impossible to explore."

Connelly's attention was piqued. "Radiation? Will it affect us?"

Harris took his eyes off the view and turned to Connelly. "The Surveyor, the landers and even TES are protected by electromagnetic shielding. This blocks 99% of the radiation. The shield on TES is powerful enough to cover a two mile circumference and should allow us to set down in an ideal melt zone and close enough to explore one of the red lines."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Willard asked, his voice serious, but his eyes still on the view through the ceiling.

"It's a non-issue," Choi said. "The electromagnetic shielding is sufficient."

Willard looked down from the view and met Choi's eyes. "Are there any more non-issues I should know about? Because I can't keep this crew safe if I don't know every possible danger that exists up here."

"You weren't informed because it's not a danger," Choi said.

"Not a danger?" Willard huffed. "What would happen if, in theory, the electromagnetic shield and whatever back-up systems are in place fail? What would happen? In theory?"

Choi looked at Harris, unsure of how to answer.

Willard rolled his eyes. "End result. Don't need the details. How long would we have to live."

Choi looked back at Willard. "Six minutes."

"Six minutes to live. Any ways to avoid being fried by the radiation?" Willard asked as his leg began to bounce beneath the table.

Harris cleared his throat. "We would pilot Surveyor into a stationary position on the far side of Europa, which would block the majority of the radiation, until the problem was fixed."

Connelly sat forward. She could see where Willard was headed. "And if we're on the surface?"

"You have six minutes to get six feet below the ice. That would block the radiation," Harris said.

"Listen," Willard said, "I know you don't think I even need to be here, but I have a track record of keeping people alive, and if you're working against me, I can't do that. I'm not asking, I'm telling you, give every possible worst case scenario before we head to the surface, or we're not going."

Connelly wanted to object to Willard's demand, but she knew he was right. He'd saved her life more than once and she knew it was largely because he was always prepared for anything. "Ethan's right," she said, "give him what he needs, or we're not going."

Harris let out a long sigh. "Choi, see to it that Mr. Willard is fully informed about all possible dangers."

Choi nodded with a grim expression. "Yes, sir. But I think he'll find-"

Willard interrupted. "I think you'll find that danger comes from the unexpected. That thing no one sees coming, is what gets people killed."

A faint glow shimmering on the table top caught Willard's attention. He slowly looked up. "For example, if a shower of glowing spheres were to crash into the outer hull, would we be prepared for it?"

"Fiction is not something we prepare for," Choi said.

Willard looked her straight in the eyes. "Maybe it should be."

Choi looked at him, her eyes reflecting her confusion.

Willard made the most sarcastic face he could manage and then thrust his index finger toward the transparent ceiling.

All eyes went to the ceiling.

"Oh my God," Peterson said.

Connelly's eyes grew wide as she looked up at the view, which minutes ago, was Europa and Jupiter alone. Now there were hundreds, maybe thousands of glowing spheres, the size of golf balls, hurtling towards them. They were beautiful, shimmering like living stars, but caused Connelly's muscles to tense.

This isn't right.

All eyes remained glued to the clear ceiling, watching as the closest of the spheres approached the outer hull. The glowing orb struck the hull and began moving along the side. The brightness of the orb became dazzling for a second and then it exploded with the force of a quarter stick of dynamite.

The room shook and the lights flickered.

Harris leapt to his feet and headed for the door.

"What the hell?" Peterson said.

"What's happening?" Connelly asked.

"I don't know," Harris said as he neared the exit.

Connelly returned her eyes to the transparent ceiling and watched as the cloud of glowing orbs closed in.

This is definitely not right!

Willard shot an evil eye at Choi. "If we live through this, I want to know everything."

Choi nodded, all traces of annoyance gone from her face. Then she bolted after Harris, who had just exited the room.

Willard looked up at the ominous view. "Fiction my ass."

The room shook as a second explosion rocked the hull, then another, and another.

Stumbling across the shaking room, the rest of the crew headed for the door. Connelly looked up at the cloud of shiny bombs headed their way. Instead of wondering how they were going to survive the massive pummeling, her thoughts jumped ahead to the next obvious question.

Where did they come from?

CHAPTER 8 -- THE ATTACK.