While he was a bit embarrassed that his interviewee would see the Gazette's dismal place of business, Minko was still glad he'd be coming here. Many of the reporters he worked with were young punks, straight out of college, happy for the opportunity to get a job in the big city but hoping to advance their careers and leave the Gazette as quickly as possible. In that manner, they reminded Minko of himself from years ago. But they lacked respect for their elders. They looked down upon him, viewed him as an example of what they never wanted to become: an unsuccessful journalist.

Wait until those young punks see my next story walk through the door, Minko thought, visualizing the shocked looks on the faces of his co-workers. They'll see this old man still has some tricks left up his sleeve.

"My office would be great," Minko said.

"Okay, he will be there at one o'clock today," the secretary said. "And again, thank you for putting this together on such short notice. Vice-President Brighton will be very pleased."

The Editor-in-Chief appeared only mildly pleased when Minko told her of Brighton's impending visit, but Minko could tell that she was excited. There'd been only a few times Minko saw his boss in anything but a bad mood, so putting a slight smile on her face was a major accomplishment.

"What does he want to talk about?" she asked Minko upon hearing the news.

"I don't know, I've been wondering that myself."

Minko was only certain about one thing: whatever Brighton had to discuss could not be groundbreaking. If he had anything truly important to say, he would've gone to a more important newspaper, or more likely, a major television news program. Minko and his boss agreed that Brighton was likely giving interviews to every news organization around the area, probably to discuss the announcement he'd made last week to run in next year's Presidential election.

"No matter what, this is still good for the paper," the Editor-in-Chief said. "This is still front page material. But why do you think he chose you?"

"I've obviously gained a solid reputation having worked so long in this city," Minko said, barely keeping a straight face.

"No, what's the real reason?"

"I don't know, I was wondering that myself."

When one o'clock finally rolled around, Minko stared out the second-story windows. A limousine pulled up right on time. Multiple large men in dark suits surrounded the vice-President when he climbed out the back seat. Minko straightened his tie (now wishing he owned a tie that wasn't stained) and tucked his shirt into his ratty old pair of jeans.

It was hard not to stare in awe of the nation's second most important man when he entered the newsroom. Minko was still more interested in seeing the reaction of those around him. Due to security reasons, Minko couldn't tell anyone else of the vice-President's arrival. Every person came to a standstill when Brighton entered the room. They all watched in shock as the vice-President approached the one journalist that none of the others ever wanted to end up becoming.

"Mr. Vice-President, so good to see you," Minko said warmly, extending his hand and speaking with Brighton as if the two were old chums.

"Mr. Minko, thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice," the vice-President said.

"It's my pleasure, sir. If you'll come this way, we can have some more privacy in the office," Minko said, leading his way to the Editor-in-Chief's office.

As Minko and Brighton walked across the room, the old journalist knew he was the envy of every single person present. He held his head high and looked straight ahead, allowing none of his co-workers the satisfaction of a single glance. He could feel all eyes on him and the vice-President, as the silence of people frozen in shock was evident.

When the two were alone in the office, Minko froze, not knowing exactly where to begin the most important interview of his life.

"So, Mr. Vice-President, how do you feel the public has received the news that you'll be running for the presidency next year?" Minko asked, finally remembering the first question he'd planned to ask. Since he figured Brighton was here to talk about his announcement, Minko planned a series of questions tailored to that particular topic.

"Actually Robert... or is it Rob or Bob?" Brighton asked.

"Rob is fine, sir."

"Well Rob, as I'm sure you've noticed the last week, I've done many interviews on TV and in other papers regarding my decision to run for the presidency," the vice-President said.

"Yes, sir, I have noticed that," Minko said.

"Then there's no need to keep harping on that subject. I'm running next year and I want to win, what else is there to say about that?" Brighton asked rhetorically.

"Then what about your feelings on the direction of this country when it comes to some of the major topics that will be key in next year's election," Minko said. "Would you care to discuss your views on the quality of education in this country or your plans to deal with health care issues?"

"Again Rob, I'm not sure how interested the public will be in hearing my opinions on those matters," Brighton said. "I have some strong opinions on both of those subjects but I think they'll be better saved for next year when the campaigning really begins."

The vice-President seemingly didn't want to talk about anything.

"Then why did you come here today, sir?" Minko asked.

"I was hoping we could touch on the space station situation and the ways President Marshall has run this project," the vice-President said.

"Okay. What was your initial reaction to hearing about the space station disaster a few months back?"

"It was very tragic and my condolences to the families of the two men who died have been well-publicized, as was my initial reaction to stopping construction following the accident," Brighton said.

"Sir, is there something in particular you want me to ask?" Minko said.

"Actually, Rob, I was hoping we could disregard the usual question/answer format of interviews and just talk about my opinions," Brighton said.

"That would be fine, sir. But first I have to ask, would it be okay if I used a tape recorder if we're going to speak at random?" Minko asked.

The journalist already assumed the vice-President would deny this request, as most people did during interviews. Many journalists did not like using tape recorders because they usually made people nervous. A person was less likely to open up and give honest answers when being taped.

"Sure, a tape recorder would be fine," Brighton said, not hesitating for even a split second, much to Minko's surprise. Minko put his small recorder on the desk in front of Brighton and pushed the red button.

"Okay, sir, please feel free to discuss whatever you'd like," Minko said.

"I came here today to discuss the space station, but not my reaction to the accident or whether I believe construction should continue or not," Brighton said. "This project is a complicated matter, and I agree with President Marshall that the future of the space station shouldn't be decided based upon one unfortunate incident."

"Then it sounds like you want to publicly recant the initial statement you made following the accident," Minko noted, trying to follow the vice-President's lead in this discussion.

"No, just the opposite," Brighton said. "While I don't think the deaths of Frankie Barnes and Vladimir Maskaev should be the catalyst for ending the space station, I do believe President Marshall missed many opportunities throughout the lifetime of this project to end this madness."

Did he just say madness? Minko thought. He was glad he had that on tape because nobody would believe Brighton would say such a thing. Before Minko's mind could think of follow-up questions, the vice-President continued talking.

"The entire handling of this project has been flawed from day one; it's continued to spiral downward at an alarmingly high rate. While the media and public have made this opinion known in the previous few months, many people highly connected to our administration and to the government have been against this operation from the beginning, myself included.

"The amount of money and manpower needed to get the space station to its present point has been astronomical, both of which could have gone toward far better uses for this country and the rest of the world," the vice-President said. "Terrorists still roam freely in the Middle East, underdeveloped countries in Central America have hundreds of children dying from starvation on a daily basis and drug lords still control many areas of South America. I can't help but wonder what these millions of dollars could've done to solve other problems. What do we have to show for all that money instead? A few scraps of metal floating in space and dozens of men risking their lives to hopefully-and I stress hopefully-finish building a space station five years down the line. It just doesn't make sense."

The vice-President paused but Minko was still too much in shock to think of a question appropriate to Brighton's rant.

"I see," Minko said, desperately hoping Brighton would continue bashing the President. He didn't need to think of anything for that to happen.

"I realize I'm probably supposed to sit back and agree with everything my President does in office and be his number one supporter," Brighton said. "After all, we are supposed to be a team. But I, along with the majority of Americans and others in the House and Senate, know that things haven't been handled properly for the last few years. Even the staunchest of George Marshall's allies realize how badly things are messed up. Marshall must know that his project is doomed, but he appears more concerned with leaving this space station as his legacy than worrying about the safety of the space crew or the economic well-being of this country.

"I can't sit back in silence any longer and let the American public assume my silence means I'm in agreement with President Marshall, because it doesn't and I don't," the vice-President said.

Something in the back of Minko's shocked mind finally clicked.

"Mr. Vice-President, it sounds to me that you might have some sort of personal vendetta against President Marshall. Is that the case? If so, why?" the journalist asked.

"I have no vendetta against the President, especially a personal one," Brighton said. "In fact, I like as a person George Marshall very much and owe him a lot. As I'm sure most people remember, our first term together was a trying one for me personally with the deaths of my parents and my wife's complications in childbirth. I was unable to fulfill my role as vice-President to the extent that both George and I wanted. When it came time for our second run at the White House, many people called for me to be replaced, pointing out that my absence from the public eye would be detrimental to the President's chances for re-election.

"He never considered replacing me and never once mentioned the idea that I step aside. For this, I owe George Marshall my career. And in fact, the President and I have gotten along very well these last seven years; we've seen eye to eye on just about every other major issue. But I can no longer fathom keeping quiet about the space station, keeping quiet about something I am so firmly against."

"Some people might wonder if your disapproval of the space station is simply a ploy for your upcoming candidacy," Minko said. "Some might think you're only stating your objection to it because recent polls have shown that the majority of Americans are against the project as well. Are you saying this to gain steam for your candidacy?"

Now that was a good question, Minko thought, proud that his brain had gotten over the initial shock of Brighton's announcement and allowed him to do his job. The vice-President again answered the tough question without hesitation, as if he'd expected to be asked this exact thing.

"The election is still a year away and it's far too early to start campaigning prematurely," Brighton said. "There are still the primary elections to put me on the ballot. To secure that, I need the support of many of the top politicians currently in my political party. So does going against what President Marshall thinks about the space station sound like the best way to gain support from my own party? I don't think so. In fact, by making my opinions public, there's a good chance I may be losing my party's favor. Some could even view me as traitorous."

"So why do it? Why come out in public and disagree with President Marshall if you think it might cost you a chance at becoming the next President?" Minko asked.

Brighton's next response would be the perfect quote to begin Minko's story about the interview. In the coming weeks, this quote would become the symbol of Brighton. Being the first to hear and write it would make Robert Minko the most-wanted guest on news talk shows and programs throughout the country.

"Because sometimes you must be willing to risk losing what is most important if you are to make a stand for what you truly believe."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

A large rocket ship sat poised for liftoff on a launch pad in the middle of a massive open field. The rocket was similar in size to the rocket that launched the first pieces of America's space station six months earlier, and the cargo it held was similarly important. This launch would be the beginning of yet another exciting mission in outer space, furthering humankind's attempt to settle the next great frontier.

While there were many similarities between this launch and the launch of the secret super space shuttle in May, there were also numerous differences. The first launch was top secret. Wesley Maddox and only a dozen workers, those required to initiate and oversee the launch sequence, witnessed it. This launch, however, was not a secret to the general public, who'd been welcomed with open arms to view the spectacle. Thousands of people littered the field behind a safety fence half a mile away, thousands of awed onlookers excited to watch history in the making.

The other major difference was the color of the space vehicle: this shuttle was bright red.

A voice came on over loudspeakers and counted down the seconds until liftoff.

"Wuu...suh...sahn...urh...ee...leeng."

The large Chinese crowd erupted in cheers as fire and then smoke began to pour from the bottom of the rocket. After a few seconds, the rocket slowly lifted off the ground, steadily gaining speed as it cut through the air and disappeared into the clouds high above.

Moments after the Chinese rocket successfully launched, a man appeared from the nearby control tower and was escorted onto a raised platform in front of the thousands of Chinese supporters. The crowd cheered for this man just as loudly as they had the rocket. When he reached the front of the stage and lowered his hands to quiet the crowd, every person immediately stopped making any noise. It was so quiet, in fact, that the small man did not need a microphone for every person to hear what he spoke.

"Now it is our time to show the world who is the true space superpower," President Chang Sun-Li told his people, who again erupted in cheers.

PART SEVEN.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

JANUARY 12, 2016.

FOUR YEARS, SEVEN MONTHS, TEN DAYS UNTIL IMPACT...

Lillian Edwards stared at the unopened envelope in her hands, knowing its contents could change her life. She was glad she'd intercepted it from the mailman before her parents could see the return address. Needless to say, her parents would not be happy if the contents of the letter said what Lily hoped.

Lily was twenty-two years old and fit the stereotype of most guy's fantasy girl, though she'd tried to downplay her beauty ever since her transformation from an awkward tomboy in high school. She still refused to wear a skirt or a dress or put her hair down; she rarely wore anything but jeans and a T-shirt. Her mother always tried to get her to accentuate her beauty with the right clothes and make-up, but Lily refused, still a tomboy at heart.

Besides, Lily wanted people to know and respect her for her mind, not for what she looked like. As beautiful as Lily was, her intelligence was what truly set her apart from other people. She graduated number one in her high school and had her pick of any Ivy League college. After much deliberation, she finally chose MIT, where she double majored in engineering and astrophysics.

Ever since she was a child, Lily dreamed of becoming an astronaut. She still remembered the excitement she felt when news leaked of an unmanned deep-space probe being launched by NASA as a trial for future manned expeditions. What she remembered even more was utter disappointment when the probe exploded in space and President George Marshall terminated the entire NASA program.

Her dreams of becoming an astronaut were dashed. But when the President announced the creation of NASSA and a super space station, Lily had a new goal to work toward. She followed the space station story closely throughout the years, hopeful that one day she'd be honored by being one of the people selected to inhabit space. Even when the deadly accident occurred and much of the public called for an end to construction, Lily was still a firm believer in what the President was trying to accomplish. And unlike when Marshall disbanded NASA for the probe loss, Lily was happy when the President did not cave to public demand and continued space construction.

Lily's life goals progressed as she'd hoped after the first three years at MIT, where she was in the top two percent in both of her majors. But two weeks into her senior year, her well-planned road to success took a sudden detour in the form of a simple flier. Handed out by professors in several of her classes, the flier advertised a special appearance by none other than Wesley Maddox.

Lily immediately recognized the name Wesley Maddox. She knew Maddox returned to Earth following the accident but did not know why he'd speak at MIT when he had so many other important matters to handle. Lily asked her professors what his speech would be about but nobody knew for sure.

Lily arrived extra early to the lecture hall where Maddox would be making his speech. She got a front-row seat and stared at him in awe as he spoke with a few of her professors. When he informed the students that he was there to recruit for a program allowing them to help build the space station, Lily immediately knew her goals in life had changed. But as a woman especially since she'd noticed few women involved with the station throughout the years Lily was not even sure she would have the chance for admittance to the program.

When Maddox's speech came to an end and he opened the floor for questions, Lily was the first to raise her hand. Always a bit of a feminist (she had as many posters of Betty Friedan and Susan B. Anthony as she did space shuttles and planets), Lily bluntly asked if women were allowed to be part of the program. Because Lily was such an honest person and had trouble sugarcoating delicate issues, her question came off as more accusatory than she'd intended. Later, she would look back in regret that her first words to Wesley Maddox were more similar to a verbal assault than a question. But Maddox handled Lily's onslaught calmly. Much to her delight, he assured her that candidates would be considered for their credibility, not for their gender.

Following the speech, Lily was the first person in line to pick up an application. She completed it and returned it the next day. Always confident in herself and her abilities, Lily refused to consider the possibility of rejection, even though many of her fellow students from both majors decided to apply as well.

Over the next two months, the space construction program was the only thing on Lily's mind. She became more convinced that this program, though never part of her life plans, was undoubtedly the direction she wanted to go. Between early September and late November, Lily never once mentioned Wesley Maddox's visit to her school or the space program to her parents. It wasn't until she went home over Thanksgiving break that her parents finally found out; that had only happened because a letter was sent to her with the return address labeled "NASSA TRAINING PROGRAM."

The letter was to inform Lily that she was among the final candidates being considered but it ended up being a wedge between her and her parents.

"What is this all about?" her mother asked no more than five seconds after the limousine dropped Lily off from the airport. Lily instantly recognized the angry scowl. "It came in the mail today."

Lily's father stood next to her mother. His expression was more of concern.

"Did you sign up for that space program we heard about on the news?" her father asked. "You know how your mother and I feel about that space station."

Lily's parents were wealthy and were hit financially by the President's tax increases to pay for the space station. Lily seriously doubted their concerns for the space station had anything to do with the danger involved for those who worked on it.

"Yes, I did," Lily said. "Joining this program will put me on the fast track to the career I want in the space industry. It would take me years to reach space if I went any other route but this program will let me reach the pinnacle of my goals in less than a year."

"This is ridiculous," Lily's mother said. "Your father and I did not complain when you chose your major at MIT. We've always sat back, ever since you were a little girl, and allowed you to dream of going to space. But when are you going to grow up and realize you can't make any money in this line of work? And what man do you think wants to marry a girl whose head is always dreaming of the stars?"