“Colonel Marsh”

  “Sir” Marsh responds.

  The old general in front of him grumbles like a tank engine. Sitting behind his large mahogany desk in his dimly lit room General McAlister continues.

  “I’ve called you in here today to tell me about Project Generation”

  Marsh stares at his face for several seconds before responding. Marsh, in his late 60’s, hesitates to respond.

  “Sir..? that program was killed over a decade ago”

  “Yes, I know. And I know you were leading that project for my predecessor”

  Marsh continues to stare forward at the wall not making eye-contact

  “Project Generation was a NIH study on phycological isolation – no connection to the Force.” Marsh stammered out.

  General McAlister slaps on hand on the desk “Don’t Bullshit ME Marsh – Why did the project get blacklisted?”

  Marsh lowers his gaze to the floor. Sighs.

  “The parameters of the study were leaked to the press and the USSF denied any connection to the study. It was bad press for the USSF. The project’s funding was re-classed under a different name any connections were wiped the books.” Marsh says quickly as if ripping off a band aid. “Several studies were conducted to understand how long-term isolations impacts human behavior. How isolation affects drive and sense of purpose. The Space Force wanted to know how long a cadet could maintain mission critical function while in isolation” Marsh’s eye’s narrow, sad and tired. His chin lowers. “The project failed. The candidates did not pass the required testing and study suggested that cadets could not continue an isolated mission for the targeted 10-year period.”

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  “That is no longer true”

  A woman’s voice chimes in from behind him. Startled Marsh turns to see uniformed officer in her mid-forties thin with dark red hair falling to her collar step from out of shadows behind him. Her boots clicking on the floor slowly as she steps around the desk to stand at Colonel Marsh’s side.

  She continues.

  “What the Project Generation failed to stratify in the study was as “age.” All of the candidates were between 18-30 years old.

  “Of course…” said Marsh “But, wait a minute who are you? This project was classified and sealed – how do you know so much about it?

  Ignoring the line of questioning she continued. “The candidates were the wrong age Colonel.”

  Marsh, angry at the condescension could not help but ague. “You can’t be suggesting that older candidates would - ”

  “Quite the opposite Colonel Marsh” she interrupts. Now leaning forward with both hands resting on the desk.

  “If the candidates are introduced to isolation before the age of 11 their capacity to maintain mission status more than doubles”

  “YOUNGER THAN 11! General what is this?”

  General McAlister leans back. His leather chair creeks with the motion. He steeples his fingers and clears his throat. “Colonel Marsh, meet Major Victra she will be leading project Flag Barrer”

  Major Victra continues in a clipped confident tone.

  “As you are well aware Major, the UDC has ceded all claims on Mars to China and the US Space Force is losing influence. This morning, the President approved a bold new mission. One where we will find a new frontier – we are sending a cadet to Jupiter’s moons. The UDC will be the first to plant our flag on Europa.”

  “Europa – that’s what, a 5-year trip!”

  “Five and half, yes. The mission will include unpacking and stabilizing the BioHub life support and oversight is estimated to be between 4 and 8 years depending on how quickly local resources can be utilized. Then a 7-year return trip. Adding the Biohub to the payload, the shuttle can only support one person”

  “20 years! One person in isolation. That’s outrageous…”

  “Colonel Marsh” she says slowly. Major Victra walks from behind the desk with her hands claps behind her back “We have been preparing candidates for some time. You are not here to argue, you are here to help us prepare. Launch is in 18 months.”

  All three officers were silent while that notion sank in.

  “I have already selected the cadet that we will be sending”

  She motions to the screen on the wall and its blinks to life. The image is of a small room with a bed, a work station, and an exercise station.

  She turns back to face Colonel Marsh and sly smile touches her eyes.

  “His name is Eno”