Money and a husband, those were the two goals that Lily's mother had for her only child, whether those were important to Lily or not. That was the exact reason Lily wanted to avoid further discussions with them.

"I'm happy to be home, too," Lily said, grabbing her suitcases and marching off to her room.

The rest of her Thanksgiving break had been spent in a similar fashion. Lily was never so excited to get back to MIT, even though finals were soon ahead of her. Although Lily's mother only called her once a week during her first three and a half years at college, she began to call on a daily basis during December. They seemed to have the same discussion every time, always ending with Lily's mother threatening to destroy any letter from NASSA that came to the house.

"You're not going to quit school with one semester left and risk your life on that silly space station," Lily's mother said at the end of every conversation.

Lily knew her mother would make good on threats to destroy any letters from NASSA. But she also knew the final-decision letters wouldn't be mailed out until the middle of January. When Lily came home for Winter Break, she prayed the letter from NASSA would show up before she went back for spring semester. The letter finally came the day before she was supposed to return to MIT.

Lily had not been this nervous when she received letters from colleges four years earlier, probably because she never doubted her acceptance to any school she wanted. But as she held the unopened letter from NASSA, she finally allowed self-doubt to creep into her mind.

I know I'm smarter than most of the guys who applied, but will they really let females into the program? she wondered.

Lily was at the moment that could change her life. She looked up at the three posters on the wall in front of her desk, Shuttles Adventurer and Exploration with Betty Friedan sandwiched in between.

"Come on, Betty," Lily spoke aloud. "I need your help with this one."

When she ripped open the envelope, the first thing she pulled from it was a plane ticket to Florida. Before she even read the letter, Lily was certain she'd been accepted into the program. After she read the letter, she also discovered that her plane left that day and any recruits who missed their flights would not be accepted.

Without hesitation, Lily called for a car and grabbed her suitcases, which were already packed for what she thought would be her return to MIT. She went downstairs and found the house empty, her father at work and her mother out shopping, as always. She found a piece of paper and wrote a quick note.

Dear Mom and Dad, I decided to go back to school a day earlier than usual so I can get a head start on my last semester. I'll just exchange my ticket for an earlier flight to Boston. Sorry you weren't here so I could say goodbye in person. I'll call when I get there.

Most parents might be upset that their child left without saying goodbye but Lily knew this wouldn't be the case with her mother and father. Her mother always stressed the importance of being independent, and there was nothing more independent than making arrangements to fly across the country alone. Lily knew her parents would find out the truth eventually but she'd already be in the training program at that point and they wouldn't be able to stop her.

The doorbell rang, the driver from the car service her father used waiting at the door. He grabbed Lily's bags and brought them to the car. Lily took one last look at her house, not knowing the next time she would see home.

A small part of her felt guilty for sneaking off but excitement soon took over as Lily began the adventure of a lifetime.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

JUNE 3, 2016.

FOUR YEARS, TWO MONTHS, NINETEEN DAYS BEFORE IMPACT...

It was 2:30 when Colin looked up at the clock hanging above the classroom door. He watched the seconds slowly tick away, wondering if it was broken and moving slower than usual. Every day of the last week went by slower than the day before and today was no exception. This was by far the longest day of Colin's life, longer even than yesterday.

At least he was thankful that none of his teachers tried to make the students do any work. Today was Colin's final day of eighth grade, the last time he'd be in a classroom that wasn't high school.

He turned in his seat and looked at his best friend, John Fare, who had rambled for the last half-hour about how unfair it was that the space construction program would not consider his application because he was too young. It was the same complaint he made for the last four months, no matter how unrealistic or unreasonable he felt about the situation. Colin tried explaining dozens of times that John was too young and too small to be considered but his friend refused to listen. While John's recently gained proclivity toward stubbornness sometimes proved annoying, Colin realized how much he'd miss his friend next year.

A week earlier, John dropped the bombshell on Colin that he wouldn't be attending public high school in September. Instead, John's father enrolled him in the Zwier Academy, an exclusive private school that the wealthiest kids attended. Colin could remember John talking about the school when they were younger, about how the Zwier Academy would be a great school to propel him into the college of his choice. Colin knew very little of the academic accolades of the academy but was more than aware that the small private school had one of the best baseball programs in the country, that they attracted the most talented players in the state. While Zwier was the stepping stone for academics to the Ivy League, the school also served as the stepping stone to the big leagues for numerous baseball players.

Not that John cares about sports, Colin thought. In their years of friendship, he had never been able to turn John into much of a sports fan.

But while John had always been dedicated to the scholastic side of school since they first met, Colin began noticing changes lately in his best friend. In the last few months of this school year, John had stopped doing his homework in most classes. For the first time, Colin even received higher grades on several tests. John got a few detentions for being disrespectful to teachers, something Colin didn't think possible from his friend. John generally acted angry toward most people, not unlike the way Colin's father often acted toward him.

But while John's interest in school waned, his obsession with the space station and the construction program increased.

"I've seen every special they've played about the station and read every article written by crackpot reporters who don't even know what they're talking about," John said. "I even looked up and studied the technical manuals to the MIR space station and familiarized myself with the different aspects of construction. I bet none of the college students selected for the program did that."

"You're probably right," Colin said. "But that still doesn't stop the fact that the people in the space programs have their degrees in space and construction and stuff."

"Yeah, but none of that stuff means anything," John said, his voice rising with increasing frustration.

His voice rose so loud, in fact, that it could be heard over the voices of the other students, who were quietly talking among themselves. Their computer teacher could hear John as well.

"Mr. Fare, keep it down. I've allowed the class to speak quietly for the period, but now everyone has lost those privileges. No more talking until class is over," the teacher said.

"Whatever," John said defiantly. "Nobody cares what you have to say anyway, dude."

This wasn't the first time Colin heard his friend talk back to a teacher but he was still surprised every time John did it. Colin felt nervous and embarrassed but John seemed not to feel either.

"I've had about enough of your attitude for the year, mister," the teacher yelled. "I want you out of my classroom now. Go spend the rest of the day in the principal's office."

Colin felt guilty that John got into trouble. After all, Colin had been the one arguing with John about the space program and gotten him all riled up. He couldn't just sit there and let his friend take the heat when he was also to blame.

"It wasn't John's fault," Colin said.

By this time, the teacher stood up from his desk, his face turning a bright shade of red.

"Sticking up for your buddy, are you, McKay? You'd better join Fare in the principal's office," he said, pointing toward the door.

Colin had never gotten in trouble before and was momentarily frozen in fear at being told to leave. John, on the other hand, already stood up and grabbed his backpack.

"Let's get outta here, Colin."

Colin grabbed his bag and followed John into the hallway. Colin's imagination ran wild about what would happen once he got to the principal's office.

Is he going to call my father? Will my father have to come to school and talk to the principal? Colin thought. Either way, I'm dead.

John's laughter did nothing to ease Colin's dread.

"He's such a jerk," he said. "If I'd known he would kick me out of class, I would've started talking loud long ago."

Colin followed John and realized he turned down the hallway that led the opposite direction from the principal's office. Knowing how much time John spent in that office, Colin was sure his friend hadn't simply taken the wrong turn. When Colin watched John approaching a door toward the empty fields outside of the gymnasium, he knew his friend had no intention of following Mr. Obendorfer's order.

"John, we can't go outside. If we get caught, we'll be in trouble," Colin said. "Especially if the teacher calls the principal's office and we don't show up."

"You mean like we could get a detention tomorrow?" John asked. "There isn't even a tomorrow in this school. The trick is to walk out of the doors like you're supposed to be doing it. If it looks like we're sneaking out and somebody sees us, then we'll get in trouble."

John opened the door and paused to look at his friend. Colin remained still, trying to decide whether he should follow.

"If we go to the principal, we'll definitely get in trouble. If we don't go, at least there's a chance we won't," John said.

"And to think I used to hang out with you because I never thought you could get me in trouble," Colin said, finally following John outside.

The two boys walked toward the baseball field, finally stopping once they reached the bleachers. They ducked out of eyesight from any teacher looking out the classroom windows.

"Now what?" Colin asked.

John looked at his watch.

"Now we sit here for the next twenty minutes. Once the final bell rings, we blend in with everyone heading to the buses," John said.

John took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Colin saw his friend smoke occasionally the last few months, but he never saw John with a whole pack.

"Where did you get that?" he asked.

"Where else?" John replied. "My mom. Once she didn't catch on that I was stealing cigarettes from her, I decided to go for a whole pack. She always has a few cartons lying around, so what's one missing pack out of twenty? Want one?"

"No thanks," Colin said.

Colin paid close attention to the anti-smoking commercials on television. He specifically recalled a commercial with Jeremy Walker, his favorite baseball player, whose father died from lung cancer. Colin watched how his own father's addiction to alcohol caused all kinds of problems. He never wanted to create his own addiction. Besides, smoking would kill any chances he had at having a future in baseball, even if he would be playing for the public high school's sorry excuse of a team.

Colin wished John wouldn't smoke but it seemed worthless to point out how bad cigarettes were. John was a smart kid anyway and already knew the negative consequences.

John took a cigarette from the pack and lit it with a match. He coughed after the first few inhales but his lungs soon adjusted.

"Our last minutes of junior high," John said between puffs. "Let's hope high school is much better."

"It's going to be weird not hanging out every day next year," Colin said. "Let's just hope we both make new friends where we're going."

"If I get my way, I'll convince my dad to take my name off the Zwier Academy's acceptance list," John said. "And if that doesn't work, I'll see about getting myself kicked out so I can go to public school with you. I can't stand all of those preppy rich kids. And those uniforms they wear are horrible."

Colin sometimes wished his friend would appreciate everything his father did for him. Colin would kill to have a father like John's, a father who cared enough to get him into a great private school.

"You'd be crazy not to take advantage of going to Zwier," Colin said. "It's one of the best schools in the country, not to mention they have the best baseball program in the state. Do you know there are four different players in the majors that went to Zwier?"

"No, I didn't know that," John said, dropping his finished cigarette on the ground, rubbing it out with his foot.

"You should consider yourself lucky to go there," Colin said. "I'd kill to get into that school."

John looked at Colin and then stared straight ahead for several minutes, not speaking a word as his eyes zoned out. Colin knew that when his friend wasn't talking, he was up to something. He recognized the scheming look in John's eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Colin asked.

A smile appeared on John's face.

"A plan that might just work."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.

For the last hour, Peter Mansfield sat in his office at home and obsessed over the passenger list, reading the names of people he decided worthy of continuing humankind. After each time reading the list, he poured himself another drink; now he was quite drunk. While alcohol often enhanced his feelings of depression for having to complete the list, the whiskey he drank tonight was part of his own personal celebration.

The list was complete. After more than a year of sleepless nights, haunted dreams and a constant weight on his back, the Chief of Staff finally felt free from this terrible burden. All of the passengers were now selected except for the list of maintenance workers, which would not be selected until the time to evacuate Earth was upon them. Maintenance workers would be responsible for the upkeep of the space station. Wesley Maddox would choose his best space construction workers for that task.

Maddox would be added to that list because of his extensive knowledge of the space station and the process of its construction. He would be invaluable once the comet struck and the survivors were forced to live on the space station for an indeterminate amount of time. Even though Mansfield did not like the project leader, he was glad Maddox would be one of the people chosen to live aboard the station. After all, Maddox played such a key role in getting this space station from idea to creation...

Maybe that's just the liquor talking, Mansfield thought. I'll probably be lobbying the President to keep Maddox off the list once my buzz wears off...

But at this moment, not even the thought of Wesley Maddox could make Mansfield feel bad. In fact, he did not think there was anything that could put a damper on his mood.

"I see you're drunk again, Peter."

Mansfield's wife stood in the doorway. It was the middle of the night and he was surprised to see her out of bed. Usually she was a deep sleeper and did not take notice when he sneaked out of bed to work on the passenger list. He quickly pressed the save button on his laptop and flipped down the screen.

"I just had one or two," Peter said, his speech slurred.

His wife marched over to the small table where he kept the booze. She picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey and put it a few inches from Mansfield's face. He thought she might try hitting him with it.

"Believe me, sometimes I wish I could smash you over the head with this thing to knock some sense into you. Especially when you lie to me," she said. "This bottle wasn't opened when you came to bed and now it's half empty. And you're going to tell me you only had one or two?"

"Okay, I only had one or two after I had the first three or four," he said, amusing himself.

"Real funny. Excuse me if I don't die laughing," she said. "At least you can bring a smile to your own face. I was starting to think you didn't remember how to smile."

"I'm sorry, honey," Mansfield said. "I've been dealing with a lot at work. It's not giving me much reason to smile."

"Unless you haven't noticed, which I'm sure you haven't, I haven't had much to smile about recently either. You've been ignoring the kids and me more than usual the last year. Do you know how hard it is to explain why Daddy is never around?"

Peter Mansfield always spoke his mind, whether his opinion was good or bad, to many of the country's top leaders. He was never afraid to make an enemy and never backed down to anyone. But his home life was different and his wife was much tougher than any senator or lobbyist.

"I'm sorry, honey, I really am. The last thing I want is for you or the kids to think I'm ignoring you," Mansfield said. "We both know the responsibility and time I have to put in at the White House."

"I know, believe me. You've been killing yourself at that job for years now. But the last one has been hardest," his wife said. "You sleep less than ever and when you're around the house, you're cooped up in front of that computer, usually with a drink in hand."

"The President has me doing a special assignment. I've told you that a hundred times," Mansfield said, frustrated that he had to explain the unenviable task.

"Yes, and a hundred times you've proven to me that I come second to your job," his wife said. "Your work is putting a strain on our marriage."

"It's not my job, baby," Mansfield pleaded. "It's just this one assignment. But you don't have to worry about it anymore. I'm finished. Things will go back to how they used to be, I promise."