Pike tilted his head up slightly, so he could see more clearly through his helmet. He raised his arm and glanced at the detector in his gloved hand. With his other hand, he pointed straight ahead.
“That way,” he said.
Captain Tai drifted past him, holding her own arm up, so that the light beam panel on the forearm of her suit could illuminate their way.
The dark side of the moon was not just regular dark. It was pitch dark. If not for the trackers, and the back-up trackers, and the emergency back-up trackers, in their suits and their equipment, Pike would have at least hesitated wandering any farther into the unmapped region from which the anomalous signal seemed to be originating. More likely, he would have talked his captain out of venturing ahead altogether. Even more likely, she wouldn’t have needed to be convinced.
On the eve of the winter solstice, ever since I can remember, my brothers and I have played a game that only we can play.
It’s because we made it up. We made it up together. I would have let my brothers decide everything. I was the littlest. I didn’t know as much as they knew. I didn’t know anything. But they told me that was the point. No one knew anything in the beginning of their journeys. They only started knowing things by going on the journey. By making decisions before they even knew what the right decision was.