Bzzzt. 

Bzzzt.

The persistent buzzing of Castor Pollock’s intel watch roused him from sleep, head fuzzy and eyes heavy with drowsiness. The tetrahouse bedroom was dark, save for the light of the stars filtering onto the silky gray sheets through the wooden blinds. He rubbed at his face, ruffling his black hair at all angles. His wife, Maia, was still sleeping soundly beside him, having pulled all the blankets to her as usual. Castor blinked rapidly a few times, adjusting his eyes to the brightness coming from the watch. The buzzing was the result of multiple messages from Nigel, his newest coworker. By every definition, Nigel was young, hip, and too eager at his job–it was no surprise that he was awake this late. Then Castor gradually registered what the messages were saying.

He bolted out of bed, the sudden movement waking Maia.

“...Honey,” she mumbled, still half asleep, her hair in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s fine,” Castor said hurriedly, digging in the closet for his blazer. “Just a little work emergency.”

Maia snorted sleepily. “Doesn’t sound like everything’s fine.”

Castor hastily buttoned up the rumpled shirt he had retrieved from the floor and planted a kiss on Maia’s forehead. “I’ll be back later,” he said, grabbing his work ID and rushing out of the bedroom.

He tripped over the fluffy white rug in the living room, stumbling into the kitchen. He only paused to fetch his keys from the hook on the wall before he dashed into the foyer and slammed the down button on the descender. Nothing happened. Could someone really be using it downstairs in the lobby right now? No matter–it just wasn’t rising fast enough. Castor danced impatiently, mind racing far ahead to what awaited him at the office. It still wasn’t rising. Wasn’t rising. Wasn’t–

“Forget it,” Castor grumbled, charging back through the kitchen and heading for the back door that led to the stairs. He threw it open and barreled down the steps three at a time, falling more than walking. He silently cursed himself for purchasing a home on the top floor of a suite complex. He began to wheeze, slowing as a stitch formed in his side, but he threw himself around the landings and over the steps with renewed vigor as his wrist continued to vibrate.

He practically rolled out of the doorway that led from the stairwell to the main floor of the building, gasping for breath. The doorman on duty cast him a curious look over the top of his magazine, but he merely returned to flipping through the pages as Castor shot past him and out the revolving front doors.

Around the corner, unlock the auto, ignition, drive, drive, DRIVE! Castor repeated in his head as he rushed along, the only moving thing disturbing the stillness of the night. It was clear, the perfect temperature, a deep blue sky studded with crystalline stars and the colorful tendrils of the galaxy’s edge. It would have been a great night to stargaze with Maia like they had done in their youth. But there was no time to think about any of that. He had to focus on the next step and unlock the auto so he could handle the emergency. He pressed the unlock button at least fifty times before it registered, the lights of the silver auto blinking in greeting. It was a sport model, the product of a raise Castor had received a while back. He yanked open the door, tumbled into the driver’s seat, and started the ignition.

Drive!

He pulled out of the parking space along the curb so fast the tires squealed, leaving marks as dark as tar on the pavement below. Thankfully, no one was on the roads. Castor pushed the throttle forward, and hearing the engine roar, he sped off down the familiar route to his office. 

Within minutes, he was leaving the sharp edges of the slate-colored city behind. The buildings fell away into dark grasses and shrubs, scrubby trees shadowing the road. Castor’s wrist shook with another onslaught of messages, and his heart rate accelerated. Drive!

It felt like an eternity, but eventually Castor saw the large stone sign on his left announcing the facility, and the main roadway branched off into a long winding driveway. He followed the tarmac into the sprawling complex of white buildings that shimmered in the starlight. He sped through the parking lots until he arrived at the building he worked in, narrowly avoiding crashing into a sign that gave the posted speed limit as he whipped the auto between two white lines. 

Kill the ignition, get inside, find Nigel…The list went on and on. He bounded out of the auto and ran up the sidewalk, digging into his pants pocket for his ID lanyard. He placed the name tag against the scanner and the door unlocked.

Inside, it was dark and cold. The walls were a soft taupe, decorated with images of rockets, skyplanes, orbitters, and visoscopes. A dim light bled from under the set of double doors at the end of the hallway on the right. Not his office, but the large room that housed the multiple computers and electronic boards dedicated to tracking progress and data reports from visoscopes. Castor shoved through the doors, out of breath with anticipation more than exhaustion. 

Nigel was sitting at the computer station closest to the door, hunched over the screen, his handsome face illuminated by the faint blue glow. Ed, Castor’s boss, and Electra, director of Public Relations, were leaning over him. Ed was, of course, looking extremely put together in a navy blue suit and crisp white shirt. His graying hair was even combed. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back as he studied whatever was on the screen. Electra looked slightly more like she had just rolled out of bed, her hair more frizzy than usual, yet she still wore an expensive dress and cardigan. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes wide. Nigel could have been mistaken for a homeless man, save the brand name glasses. His gray sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants clashed horribly with the professionalism exuding from everyone else.

“Well? I’m here,” Castor announced. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Nice slippers,” Nigel grinned, returning his gaze to the computer.

“Wha–” Castor glanced down at his feet and groaned. Of course he was still wearing his slippers. Of course.

“Nevermind all that, get over here, Pollock,” Ed said brusquely, waving his hand.

Electra and Nigel continued whatever conversation they had been having before Castor had arrived. “...Legally, we have one rotational period to release this information to the public,” she was saying, tapping her high heeled foot.

Castor made his way over to the group, leaning in to see the screen. His breath caught in his throat. Scattered across the monitor were images–stunningly beautiful images of a planet he had never seen before. Jewel blue surrounded patches of the purest green swirled with sand, everything covered by wispy waves of white. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.

“Are these–did we receive new data from AVASTUS?” Castor stuttered in shock, fumbling to pull his glasses from his pocket and jam them onto his face.

“Copy that,” Nigel said. “They just came in a little while ago. I was sleeping in the office when I heard the notification.”

Castor raised an eyebrow.

“What? I was working late and the coffee machine down the hall is broken,” Nigel shrugged.

“The coffee machine in Room 286 is broken?” Ed repeated, as if this was the most important thing Nigel had said.

The youngster kept his attention on the machine in front of him and clicked around, zooming in on a few of the images. “Copy,” he said again, this time out of the side of his mouth.

Electra scoffed. “You’re incorrigible, Ed.”

Castor stared at the planet, bringing the focus back to the ‘emergency’ that had brought him here. “Looks terrestrial. Do we have dimensions on it yet? How far away is it?”

Nigel did some more clicking. “1402 light orbitals. It’s roughly the same size as we are, circling a star much like our sun. You could even call it our cousin.”

“It’s wonderful,” Castor marveled. He was elated that AVASTUS, the brainchild he had inherited when he became director of the Visoscopical Branch, had discovered something this groundbreaking after floating in deep space for many orbitals, snapping pictures of previously known celestial bodies. But this–this was different. It was new, exciting, and a total mystery. “What do we call it?”

“Technically, it’s AVASTUS-452b,” Ed said.

“But I’ve been working on some names I thought were fitting,” Electra cut in. “What do you think of…Earth?”

Castor’s heart fluttered with excitement–he couldn’t wait to tell Maia. “It’s perfect,” he smiled.