Nessa's implant purred, and she tapped the screen.
"626," she read the notification aloud. "Kommer's code."
Words appeared on-screen.
Nessa, I've picked an implant code and frequency near your coordinates. I'm sending you a 3D colorized link to the live holo-feed: 782.holospace.
"I'm trapped, Kommer," she muttered as she pressed the link.
"And I'll understand them?" she asked.
"Holospace has a translator," came the immediate reply. "So does your implant."
A square expanded. Nessa sat cross-legged on the floor. Color took shape on the holospace, and Nessa rested her arm on her leg.
Jamison Conner squinted into the lens, gazing into an expanse. A breeze rustled his platinum blond hair. Through the lens, tiny white specs took shape. He focused on a red sphere. It was still tiny, and Jamison imagined it could rest on his thumbnail.
“I can’t even see my home world from here,” he said.
His eyes welled up.
“One day,” he said to no one in particular. “We’ll find each other. We’ll go home.”
Jamison pulled away from the telescope and glanced around. Grass stretched for miles, and Jamison felt as small there as Mars did through his scope.
The grass rustled nearby, and a wind howled. Jamison pulled his telescope close.
“Jamison, bud,” a voice spoke into the wind.
A life-form drew closer.
“Time to come home.”
Jamison loosened his grip. The voice registered, and the figure stepped into the star light.
“Dad!” Jamison yelled, abandoning the telescope as he ran.
Trevon waited with arms open wide. Jamison threw his arms around him.
“Sorry I’m late, bud,” he said. “Work problems. Let’s go. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Jamison released Trevon, and Trevon nodded toward the telescope.
“Is that the telescope your mom and I got you for your birthday?” Trevon asked as he started toward the telescope.
Jamison drew short, shallow breaths. He brushed his dad’s jumpsuit with his fingertips.
“No, Dad!” he blurted out.
Trevon had mounted the telescope on its stand and was gazing through it.
“Wow!” He gasped. “Mars is really clear today.”
“No kidding,” Jamison muttered.
He let his eyes dart the field. Trevon pushed the telescope upward.
“This is a really good telescope,” he said. “Probably one that would have cost a lot of money. Wonder what kind of deal your mom got.”
Jamison gulped. Images flashed through his mind. He had opened a box, revealing a gold chain, tubes, and wires. His heart had throbbed as he had pocketed the chain. He had opened his bedroom window and shivered at the icy breeze biting his face. He had hugged himself. The road behind his house had led him to a sphere with doors and windows. Steel bars had surrounded the house and had stretched on forever. He had pounded the door, and a balding man with monocle had answered, wielding a crowbar.
“Alright!” He’d yelled. “Who’s here this time of night?”
Jamison’s teeth had been chattering by then. Monocle Man’s eyes wandered downward.
“Oh!” He announced. “It’s just a boy. What brings you here?”
Jamison had shown the chain.
“I heard you had parts,” Jamison had managed. “I’m building a telescope.”
Jamison blinked the memories away, and eyed his father, who still messed with the telescope.
“Speaking of Mom,” he said. “Isn’t she making dinner?”
“So she is,” Trevon replied. “Come on, bud. Pick up your telescope. I’ll get your stand.”