Scene 3: October 2492.

The crew is listening to the message from the CD

Voice from the CD: To the crew of Centaurus 1, I have an important message. We'll have to hope you
didn't open this much earlier than expected. However, if the timing is correct, the audience listening to
this recording—which would be assumed to have been made about 400 years ago—would actually be
from a whole different generation. I'll continue assuming you'll listen to the entire recording and follow
the appropriate steps. As you are all aware, this ship was launched in the year 2100, or precisely 392
years ago, if the people who are opening this are of the anticipated generation. Fortunately, this fact will
serve as evidence of your survival outside of Earth. Congratulations! But I doubt it won't last for long.
This mission was established by Professor Aloka Halangoda, whom you already may have heard of, all
because of the critically increasing human population. It is, at the time, difficult for authority figures to
effectively manage all the trouble this issue aroused along with problems caused by the constant
pollution of the already contaminated planet and the diminishing quantity of resources. That’s when the
NSA team decided to exclude handfuls of people that are of no significant use so as to balance the
above-mentioned limited funds we possessed. This is a plan that requires a considerable number of
resources, yes. But for how we plan to manage the system on Earth from then on, these conditions
would be extremely favorable. This mission, Centaurus 1, was one of those programs launched for this
seemingly harsh process and on behalf of my own team members, I’d like to apologize. Utilizing
whatever the stock available, introducing this mission was one of the many phases of the long-term NSA
Project, introduced solely for the sake of humanity. Expressed in simple terms, after the execution of
this mission, another set of instructions would be followed to colonize XXXE-r968 planet following Mars
and KBD588. That’s the story of how the first generation last on this ship got here in the first place. But
there’s another possibility to explore here, audience. May be this didn’t begin where you all are made to
think it did. May be this wasn’t launched 392 years ago and may be everyone on the ship was
brainwashed. But now is not the time for all this, my friends. Here’s why. What awaits you all on this
planet your spaceship is pre-programmed to travel, assuredly is something we analyzed and researched
on. I repeat, with utmost penitence, it wasn’t the truth. We have no idea of how a human can survive in
there breathing Carbon dioxide or whatever the gases available there. And only, just only, if you all,
listening to this, are lucky enough, Scorpius Maxima will be a safe haven for the human kind. The code
attached just underneath this package would be the key to where all the equipment and instructions are
stored, which is all information I can provide on this subject. Wishing all the best, yours truly.

[Everyone was silent for one tense moment, before Grant of all people recovered from the shock. He
slams a fist down on the stool, where the CD is kept, a force with which it shakes. Grant decides to rant
to push the point further. He seemed to have been waiting for the whole 17 years he lived to deliver the
line that followed his outburst. But the reaction itself was inexplicably untypical of Grant.]

Grant: Seems I’ve been right all this time. Congratulations on being busy ignoring me.

[Michelle looks down thoughtfully, before slowly sharing a look of understanding with her brother.
Peter, who was staring at the CD this whole time, speaks up for the first time.]

Peter: I don’t think it would be really helpful if we kept ranting about who was right and who was not.
What we got to think about now is how we are going to land, assuming we’d even continue the mission.
It’s been a thrilling ride with such a devoted Captain.
[He looks skeptically at the captain, as if looking for a source to blame but knowing it’s worthless all the
same, and decides to march to his own drum roll. Captain John Fermi opens his mouth to say something,
surely something to reassure the crew with, but Peter cuts him off by marching out stiffly to slam the
door. That was a clear message. He was going to make up plans on whether it’s safe to continue the
mission or not, if so, how beneficial it would be and which manual that he’d prepared that they should
follow, all in his claustrophobic room full of drawn-up plans. Smarty pants, they called him, which didn’t
support his short-temper and sharp tongue. Captain John Fermi leans in and shares an intense round of
eye contact with each member, Grant’s betrayed and bitter look, Michelle’s worried eyes, Don’s gaze
peeking from his head buried in his hands, Margaret’s eyes full of a passionate rage and the empty
space where Peter was a few seconds ago.]

Captain John Fermi: Tell me. Do you want this to go on?

[The whole crew is silent. As naturally grave and final as anything that slips out of his mouth, Captain
John Fermi announces the final decision as the person responsible for the spaceship, his steady voice
faltering at the name of Peter Bibikov, who was in a room, strategizing every foreseeable step despite
his obvious frustration.]

Captain John Fermi: If it’s a no from anyone in this room, we can arrange spare plans for them. It came
with the equipment…they…sent us. The choice is yours, for once. Nobody would be forcing anybody. But
for the record, this mission will be continued as planned assuming somebody in this room, at least, is
confident about their stakes in this game. They can join the mission with me and Bibikov. I am aware this
is hard for everyone on board to admit and that the risks are too high due to the position they have put
us in, but I don’t see another way, except the path to return with empty hands after years of trying or
reaching for our final destination, damn the consequences.

[Silence. The captain gets up to leave the room. Suddenly, a voice pierced through the edgy silence. It
was Grant. He declares his choice in a surprisingly contained voice, which wasn’t very expected thanks
to the tantrums he’d been throwing around for the past few hours and the past few years.]

Grant: Change of plans. Count me in, Captain.

[Michelle pipes in, getting a glare from across the room from Grant, who looks about to protest
whatever his sister was going to say, but instantly gives up when more voices join the conversation.]

Michelle: If he’s coming, I’m coming too. Remember? Two go in, two come out.

Don: [Murmurs in a low voice] Can’t say no to that. Coming.

Margaret: [Trying to look focused on her boots.] You know the answer. So, I’m down, or whatever.

[Captain John Fermi gapes incredulously at the scene directly out of a movie, but a small half smile broke
across his momentous face. He turned to call Peter.]

Narrator: In light of this, Captain John Fermi chooses to continue the expedition to Scorpius Maxima not
just with armor and weaponry but with well-planned preparation and the support of the whole crew on
Centaurus 1. They were finally going to land on a new planet, after three generations, after 400 years on
board. It didn’t matter if Scorpius Maxima had more Carbon dioxide or Sulphur dioxide, hypothermia
causing extreme temperatures or radiations from host source stars or ninja cats armed with Neutrino
2000s. It won’t be in vain. In some ways, Earth was quickly returning to normal by the year 2568, but
there was still evidence of the damage that humanity' love for the planet had done. As it occurred on a
few other worlds they were able to seize, a new generation was in charge on Earth. All of this under one
cardinal rule. That is, you mess with mother nature, you get punched with loss of biodiversity and bad
climate change. Nobody mentioned Scorpius Maxima again, yet the gratitude for a certain crew was
carried from generation to generation, as was remorse. Because they never lived to tell the tale.
Because the moral was still clear. Because if you set foot on Scorpius Maxima, you’ll never return.