Dusk arrived, and Finn and Blake had found comfort on the cabin's roof once more. The temperature began to drop, mosquitoes approached, and the city's lights turned on, at first one light at a time, but eventually, the shift to its fullest glow was sudden. 

Blake laid on his back, forming a pillow for his head with his crossed forearms, and Finn set beside, researching on his phone. 

A flower, just like the one from his dreams, was found under the name forget-me-not; five rounded blossoms in a calm blue, with a pineapple-yellow sun at its heart. He leaned towards Blake to show him the image.

"Look at this. It's the same flower from my dream!" His effort to keep his excitement a secret was pitiful. "It's a forget-me-not! Perhaps the flower is Nitha's symbolic way of saying 'please don't forget me'? This flower is actually quite a bit smaller than in my dream. Does that mean she needs me to work harder?"

Finn continued to prattle, while Blake read the provided article.

"Or is it possible she is telling me she hasn't forgotten about me? What do you think, Blake?

"It states right here, that the forget-me-not is a wildflower, also considered as an unpleasant weed. It's invasive, it threatens surrounding plants and spreads like wildfire." Blake paused and switched his view to Finn. "Maybe it's your subconscious telling you that Nitha is a plague in your life that needs to be ripped out like a flower."

"How dare you compare her to a plague! She was the love of my life!"

Blake dared to counter. "You just said 'was'."

"Is! I meant to say 'is'!"

"Finn, I'm sorry. It's just—unless I'm mistaken, this was the first dream you've had of her, ever since she left. And in your dream, all she does is leave again. If you're searching for meaning, then I say that's it."

"And what's that?"

"She left, leaving you with nothing but a flower, which eventually will die. You can remember the love you shared, but if you continue to let her grow, it will kill you inside."

Finn recalled the trail of death behind the flower of his dream.

"I don't believe that! Why are you turning against me?"

"I'm not against you, Finn! Just face the facts! When was the last time you were as happy as you were today? When was the last time you laughed as much as you did today? Today was the first time you didn't think about Nitha, but instead had fun."

Finn stood up and looked down on his friend. "You told me to ask my dad about work. It was your idea! Now you want me to just—let it go?"

"I—"

"No, you know why I was so happy today? I didn't stop thinking about Nitha, I could never stop thinking about her. I was happy, because today I was able to touch her skin, to smell her hair—I looked her in the eyes, I heard her sweet voice. She said my name. 

She was alive, with me. That's why I was so happy today. I was happy because for the first time I don't have to pretend to be hopeful, I actually am."

Finn slid down the roof to storm away, but Blake begged him to halt.

"I'm really sorry, I know you're in pain."

"No, I'm really not. But do you know who is?"

Blake rolled his eyes and jumped into the grass to ease Finn's anger.

"Nitha is," continued Finn. "Alone, in the infinite darkness. You might think I am hurting now, but if I don't try everything to find her, I will never forgive myself."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Blake's sympathy was proven by the looks on his face, but Finn refused to look him in the eye. "I can see how happy this opportunity makes you, and if you're happy, I'm happy. I'll do anything I can to show you my support."

"I just—" Finn's hands were formed to fists, but his rage left piece by piece with every breath of his."I just have to know."

"Finn—I am on your side. You know that, right?"

When Finn was seven, his brother passed away. It was Finn's the most traumatic memory. He lost not only a brother but also his best friend, leaving himself in the darkness, alone and speechless. He would not talk to his parents for months, nor would he meet friends or attend school. He had given up on eating and avoided leaving his room at all costs.

He had no wish to be alive and felt that his own mind had given up on him. One evening, when he was called for dinner, Finn hid beneath his blanket and refused to eat. By then, his family was accustomed to it, but aware of the issue, they had to force him to eat.

After his battle with Blake, his memory took him back to that particular night.

He would fight his parents; kick them and cuss when they tried to tear him out of bed. It seemed hopeless until his mother brought a plate upstairs after dinner had ended. She placed it on Finn's nightstand and shared with him a wisdom of life, which he would try to shield and live by till the day of death. 

"If you can't heal from what hurt you, you'll bleed on who didn't cut you."

Blake grabbed his bike from the porch and pushed it through the high grass. Before he had the chance to lift his leg over the saddle, Finn walked up to him, hugged him, and said: "I'm sorry. You are trying to help me—and I should let you."

Monday morning, Finn walked down the halls of KSP, escorted by his father who was wearing a lab coat. The tile floor was white and reflecting, wide windows on each side of the hallway presented the scientists working on the other side of the plain walls. 

A unique combination of the smells of sanitizer and melting metals filled the air inside the building. Every couple of yards they passed charcoal-gray doors, one on each side, looking identical, but distinguishable by the name on the silver doorplate. 

Dr. Christopher D. Clarkson was written in serif and graved into the sparkling plate on the last door of this corridor. Christopher placed his fingers on a square screen mounted to the wall.

The device was confirming his fingerprints to grant access to the room. As the words displayed changed to complete, a clicking was heard and the door unlocked.

"Welcome to my office, lab, studio, and on some overwhelmingly busy days, my lunchroom."

It was a large office with a window opposing the wall of the entrance. White floors, white walls, a white ceiling, but overcrowded with machines and unfinished projects. 

Before the window stood a corner desk with six computers, a seizable processor, a neglected pile of work-related papers, and three unrinsed mugs with the dried remains of black coffee. 

A trophy hidden by some meaty books about astronomy acknowledged Christopher's success in his field. The chair appeared congenial and comfortable with a high rising backrest to support one's spine, next to its rolling feet stood an aluminum box filled with folders and binders, substantially black ones. 

One wall was covered by a substantial screen portraying a peculiar galaxy and information linked to defined parts of it, the other wall was covered by pinned photographs and articles, written documents, technical drawings, diverse maps of space stations outside their solar system, and numerous blueprints for potential aerospace vehicles and extraterrestrial accommodations.

A model rocket caught Finn's attention as he entered the office. It was at least half Finn's size, built with an eye for detail. A card was glued to its scaled-down engines, with the title Saturn V (5) and an attached summarized description of the rocket's history.

To Finn's left, another model floated in the corner. A replica of Christopher's first satellite design, kept in mid-air by two equally strong magnets. Two poles continuously attracted and repulsed the metal construction in their focus, never strong enough to overpower the other. In another corner perched a robotic arm, massive enough to lift a heavy body. 

It was detached from its nearby reclining body, which existed of an iron cube on wheels, with a camera and antenna, designed to survey unexplored worlds.

"I apologize for the mess. Had I known you were going to visit, I would have cleaned up the floor at least. Fortunately, we won't be spending much time here."

As Christopher followed Finn into the room, both avoided falling over copious tools and more poorly stacked books. One box held the suit of an astronaut, a second one contained an advanced version of it. 

The door behind Finn and his father would have closed on its own if a foot thrown between the door and its frame hadn't stopped it from shutting completely.

"Christopher," said a man, pushing his body through the gap. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I saw you passing by my office, and I couldn't help but notice who was walking beside you."

"No need to be sorry, I'm happy you stopped by," responded Christopher and stepped behind his son. "Finn, this is Dr. Bradley Roberts, he is the head of the astrophysics department and used to be my professor when I was studying at the University of Westlake."

He was an elderly man, who had a large nose, and even larger ears, both on which his semi-rimless glasses rested. His scalp was hairless, but his white eyebrows, mustache, and beard grew like the branches of a tree; in every direction. The ring on his left hand had lost half of its shine, and he, too, was wearing a lab coat.

Dr. Bradley Roberts stepped forward and offered his hand to be shook. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Finn."

"Likewise," Finn shook the man's hand. A noticeable difference in height lay between the knowledgeable astrophysicist and the teenager who lied about wanting to be one, too.

"The whole team has been waiting for this day to come," added Dr. Roberts as their hands unlatched. "Say, Finn, has your father prepared you well for the test?"

"Test?" parroted Finn bewildered, and attempted to clarify. "What test?"

With his hand now on Finn's shoulder, Christopher approached to eliminate confusion from both sides. "Finn is not taking the test. Not today at least."

"What's the obstacle? All were convinced you brought him in for the test."

"He hasn't filed his application, yet."

While Finn remained puzzled, he understood which application they meant. "You're talking about the internship, aren't you?"

"Yes," confirmed Dr. Roberts, "Once an application has been reviewed and accepted, the applicant is brought in to be tested here at KSP. One has to complete physical tests, as well as a mental one before the intern position can be filled." 

He combed his beard with the tip of his fingers and looked at Christopher. 

"Are you positive he has to file an application? I'm confident the board would be more than delighted to have another Clarkson on the team, provided he passes the physical and mental tests, which he will. From what I can tell, he has a strong body, his handshake told me so," he chortled, "and besides, if he's anything like you, he will master the mental test effortlessly."

His enthusiasm was unbearable, yet somehow persuasive. With his hands stuck deep in the pockets of his coat he carried on with his speech. 

"Son, you are destined to achieve significant greatness, just like your father has before you. Let me take you to be tested. It's where the journey begins."

"He hasn't had training," debated the father and moved to his desk. "He'd be disadvantaged to the other applicants." 

Christopher pressed a button outside the case of the processor, to let the computers start up and be ready for use by the time this conversation would have ended.

"Have some faith in your son," cheered the old man and wrapped his arm around Finn's shoulders, which was only possible once Finn had moderately kinked his knees to reduce his height. "It will only take one hour, and then he's all yours again. If Finn needs a second run, he can always return when he feels ready. No pressure."

To bring an end to this discussion Finn agreed to take the test, and with a satisfied look on his face Dr. Roberts guided Finn out of the office and into the testing center.

Christopher, who was left behind, had already cleared his schedule for the day. To make some use of the time he now had, he began to move some boxes on the floor and sorted the papers that were scattered around them. 

Forty minutes later, a knock on the door marked the end of him cleaning the mess. He had just picked up the last article from the floor, with the headline KSP's travelship (A154) disappeared and 109 passengers still missing as its subtitle, and tossed it in the bin under his desk.

Christopher's floor was at long last clear of trip hazards. He walked to the door, opened it, and found, unexpectedly, his son.

"You're back early," observed Christopher.

"Indeed, he is," replied Dr. Roberts who had been standing behind Finn, where he had remained unnoticed until he spoke. 

"First he passed the three physical tests, each five minutes in length, and then he rushed through the mental test. Fifty questions in twenty-five minutes! I have never seen anything like it!"

His father looked just as surprised. "Neither have I. Finn, I sure hope you didn't guess the answers."

"Well," said Dr. Roberts, clinging to the brown folder in his hands, "I will be on my way to grade his tests. A little reminder to you Chris, don't forget to attend the big meeting at ten o'clock."

"There is no meeting, I had my schedule cleared for today."

"They must have added it in the past hour, I got a notification for it. Check the team-calendar if you're unsure."

And so he did as soon as his friend had left his office. The notification for the meeting was displayed on Christopher's computer, but he hadn't seen it while the screens were locked. He entered his password and in shock, he found out that his boss, in fact, had announced an emergency meeting.

"It's urgent," he left his computer with the program still open and turned to Finn. "I'd take you, but it seems to be confidential. Would you agree to stay here? If the agenda isn't lying, then I won't be gone for long."

Finn looked at the computer and saw it was easily accessible. This was his only chance to search for a program that could help him contact the signal he had found two nights ago. 

The pressure of the situation made Finn uneasy. He feared to mess up and stuck to his idea of saying as little as possible, to prevent the risk of his father realizing he should secure his computer.

"Go, I'll be fine," was his answer.

"When I'm back I want to hear all about your test experience."

As soon as the door had fallen into its lock, Finn threw his body into the chair and began his forbidden search.