Chapter 1

1

B

ev pulled into the parking lot in front of her office building. Her car was the only one there, but that wasn’t unusual. The sun was just barely beginning to rise and the New Mexican sky looked like it was exploding, an array of oranges and reds shooting from the skyline. Bev smiled and stepped out, taking a moment to appreciate the view.

She unlocked the front door and took the stairs up to her office. It was dark, with faint strips of light escaping through shades that were pulled over the windows. She walked over and raised the shade closest to her desk. That was the first thing she did every morning—let the light in.

The next thing was to listen to her messages. That was one of the reasons she liked to arrive before anyone else. She liked to make sure there were no unpleasant surprises first thing in the morning. Bev never knew if she’d receive a panicked message from someone who had been evicted in the night, or who had to suddenly flee an abusive relationship, sometimes with kids in tow.

When Katie Freedman, the mayor’s wife, had asked Bev to help open the homeless center, she had been thrilled. She wasn’t used to working with someone so much younger than her in an administrative capacity, but she had liked Katie from the first time they’d met and they were now the best of friends.

Bev clicked through the messages. There were four new ones, but nothing urgent. One person canceling their appointment, and three others who wanted to make one. She jotted down their information, then took the phone off forwarding. It rang immediately.

“Hello, thank you for calling Refuge. Bev Miller speaking.”

The person on the other end of the line released what sounded like a sigh of relief. “Ms. Miller, you are just the person I wanted to speak with,” a woman said.

“How can I help you?” Bev asked, her senses instantly alert. Her mind raced through all of the possible scenarios. If the woman needed employment, Bev wouldn’t be able to get her in for an appointment for another day or two. If it was something more serious, like she needed emergency accommodations, they had one apartment opening up the next day. Refuge had just had a large donation of food and toiletries the day before, so they were good in that area too. If the woman had children, Bev would need to scrounge up some cots, but that was doable.

“My name is Julie Farnsworth and I’m from Galactic Enterprises’ Space Tourism Experience.”

“That’s quite a mouthful,” Bev said, frowning. This woman didn’t sound like she needed help. How had she gotten Bev’s work number?

“We’re working on a more customer-friendly name,” Julie said with a chuckle. “You are a difficult woman to get ahold of, Ms. Miller. You haven’t responded to any of our letters or emails, and you didn’t list a phone number.”

“Where exactly didn’t I list my phone number?” Bev asked. She was starting to think this lady was after something.

“On your entry form,” Julie said. “After further investigation, your name came up as the director of Refuge and I was able to obtain your number that way. We’re getting all the final details in place, but we really need you to send in your medical forms, signed by your physician of course, saying that you are medically fit to come on this flight. We launch in just over a month and need to have all the paperwork submitted as soon as possible.”

What was this woman talking about?

“I think I misplaced those letters and emails,” Bev said. “If you could just send them again, that would be very helpful.”

Julie Farnsworth, if that was her real name, would ask for her email address, then Bev could be sure that this woman was a scam artist.

“Give me just one moment.” After a brief pause, Julie said, “Just sent it. You should see it within a couple minutes.”

It wasn’t more than a couple of seconds and Bev’s computer dinged, letting her know she had a new email. It was from Julie Farnsworth at Galactic Enterprises. Against her better judgment, Bev opened the email and quickly skimmed it. Her heart stuttered. “Is this a prank? This says I need a doctor to fill out this form so that you know I’m physically fit to…go up into space.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “You did enter the drawing for two seats on our inaugural space tourism flight, didn’t you?”

“Um…maybe.” Bev knew that she hadn’t, though.

“And you haven’t received any of our previous communications?”

Now that Bev thought about it, she may have seen a couple of letters with what could have been the Galactic Enterprises logo on them. But they’d seemed like junk mail. And there may have been a few emails from them with something akin to ‘You are our lucky winner!’ in the subject line, but she received about fifteen of those a day. What were five more? She was a busy woman and didn’t have time to open every letter from someone that wanted to sell her something.

“I’m sorry,” Bev said. “But I have no idea what this is about.”

There was another long pause. “Ms. Miller, do you know who we are?”

Bev had seen an article or two about them but hadn’t read past the bold headlines. “You do stuff with space research, right?”

“Yes, we do a lot of that,” Julie said. “But our biggest accomplishment is building a spaceship that can take paying customers far enough into space that they can experience zero gravity and see the earth from a perspective that only astronauts have been able to until now. We call it space tourism.”

Spaceships. Uh-huh.

Sure, New Mexicans were known for their obsession with space exploration (and aliens), and Bev knew quite a few people who worked for NASA, but that wasn’t what this lady was talking about. “So…what you’re saying is…”

“That you are one of the luckiest women in America right now, Bev. You are going to be one of the first private citizens in history to go to space.”

“Do you know anything about this?”

Bev asked Katie. She nodded to the coffee table, where she had dropped a large pile of papers. She hadn’t counted, but there had to be at least a hundred release forms, ensuring that Galactic Enterprises wouldn’t be responsible for her death in case of an accident.

“What are they?” Katie asked, picking up the top sheet of paper. She barely glanced at it before her jaw slackened. Her head whipped toward Bev. “You won?”

“It seems you know a lot about it.”

“I didn’t think you would actually win.” Katie shook her head. “Thousands of people entered this thing. I mean, can you imagine being on Galactic Enterprises’ first space tourism flight?” She broke into a grin. “So, when do you leave?”

“One month,” Bev said. “If I decide to go. They need all the paperwork done by Friday, which doesn’t give me much time to make up my mind. I’d also have to get a complete physical by a doctor saying I’m not going to die on them up there, plus a million signatures saying that I won’t sue them if I come back maimed or something—”

Katie interrupted. “Why wouldn’t you go? This is the chance of a lifetime. You get to go to

outer space

.”

“Did you hear what I just said? Death. Maiming. Sucked into the vortexes of space.”

“So? You still haven’t given me a single good reason you should pass this up,” Katie said.

Bev knew it was crazy that she was even debating about going. Of course she should go. But Julie had mentioned things about all kinds of physical tests to prepare them for launch day, and Bev was pretty sure it didn’t involve sitting in a nice reclining easy chair, watching the stars zip by.

“They said I can bring a guest,” Bev said, avoiding Katie’s original question. “It’s all for publicity, and I guess they figured it would look good if I was there with someone.”

Katie’s eyebrows popped up. “So…who are you going to take?”

“I just met the new waitress at the diner and thought she might like to go,” Bev teased.

Katie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

A yelp drew their attention to the bathroom. They rushed in and found Katie’s daughter, Liv, tangled up in what used to be a roll of toilet paper.

“I thought about it,” Bev said, “but then I remembered that I don’t know actually know the waitress and that would be weird.”

“Who’s your second choice?” Katie asked, scraping wet toilet paper off Liv’s leg. She squirmed and howled, trying to get away.

Bev laughed. “You, of course. If I’m going to go into space, it’s going to be with my best friend.”

Katie nodded, like she had expected that Bev would choose her. But to Bev’s surprise, she didn’t look as excited as she had expected. “Who’s your third choice?”

“What do you mean? There isn’t a third choice. There wasn’t ever a second choice either. You’re it,” Bev said. “That pile of paperwork is yours. I left mine at home.”

Katie let Liv escape from the bathroom, a sheet of toilet paper still stuck to the bottom of her foot.

“This is the experience of a lifetime,” Bev prodded. “That’s what you said, right?”

Katie nodded, then glanced down the hallway, where Liv was playing with a ball. “If it had been a couple years ago, I’d have signed up in a heartbeat. But…” Her voice trailed off.

“You don’t want to leave Liv, is that it?” Bev asked. She wasn’t a mother herself, and wouldn’t ever be, considering she was already forty-six years old. But she had been around enough new mothers to know it was hard for them to leave their children for a couple of hours, let alone a few days.

“That’s part of it,” Katie said. “But also…what if something happened? It’s their first commercial flight. I can’t take risks like that anymore. Not since I married Sam. And certainly not since we had Liv.”

Bev folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You were just pushing me to go on this trip,” she said. “I can take those risks because I don’t have a family, is that it?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Katie said. “I just—we’re talking about outer space.”

“Yes, I know. A moment ago you were saying that is the reason I should go. ‘You get to go to

outer space

,’” Bev shrieked in a voice that mimicked Katie’s, waving her arms around.

Katie laughed. “How about this? I’ll talk it over with Sam tonight and see what he thinks.”

“I’m leaving the paperwork here,” Bev said. “Even if you choose not to go, I can’t lug that thing around again.”

“Thank you for thinking of me,” Katie said.

“No pressure, but if you don’t go, I don’t go. I’m not facing all that craziness alone.”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Thanks a lot. Who wants to be the jerk who was the reason their best friend didn’t go on a spaceship?”

“Hey, I haven’t decided if I’m going either,” Bev said with a laugh.

“Look at us, two women trying to decide if we want to go be astronauts,” Katie said, shaking her head. “We’re a couple of morons.”

“Remember, the paperwork has to be done and submitted by Friday,” Bev said, tapping the pile before she opened the front door to leave.

“Right back at ya,” Katie called right before the front door shut.

Bev shook her head. She was getting too old for this kind of stuff.