Infinity Claws

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“Good morning, Tripp.”

“Good morning, Manuel.”

Tripp Healy sipped his cup of coffee and glanced at his reflection in the glass panel. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. Tired and cranky, he felt twenty years older than he was, which would have made him sixty years-old. He certainly felt like a much older man today.

Personal hygiene wasn’t the first thing on his mind this morning, however. He had an important call to make to his family.

The only thing stopping him from dashing to the N-Gage terminal in his quarters was the spectacular view of Earth. The two-day travel back home wouldn’t be undertaken for another two months.

Tripp had been on the moon for two weeks. Fatigue and homesickness were setting in. He found his work was stressful and maddening. USARIC had made little progress since receiving what they called a “cry” from Saturn one month ago to the day.

“Patch me into N-Gage, Manuel,” Tripp made his way to the seat at his terminal. “Let’s get this done.”

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