A Desperate Gamble

Dr. Elysia Evren stormed into Dr. Aaron Faust’s lab, her heels striking hard against the polished floor. The overhead lights flickered, casting eerie shadows over the scattered reports, half-finished equations, and abandoned coffee cups littering his desk.

Dr. Faust sat hunched over a monitor, rubbing his temples. His lab coat was wrinkled, his normally sharp eyes dulled with exhaustion. He barely looked up as Elysia slapped a thick stack of papers onto his desk, sending a few loose sheets drifting to the floor.

"You need to listen to me," she said, her voice tight with urgency.

Faust sighed, rubbing his eyes. "This is about the meteor shower, isn’t it?"

"You already knew," she accused.

His silence was answer enough.

"Then why the hell are you ignoring it?" She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his desk. "If my calculations are right, the Mars evacuation is doomed before it even begins."

Faust exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Elysia, look around. The world is falling apart. The ozone’s collapsing, solar flares are frying entire cities, and people are killing each other for a ticket off this planet." He gestured to the mess of reports. "I don’t have time to obsess over possibilities when we're already losing ground."

"This isn’t a possibility—it’s a certainty," she shot back, grabbing a loose page and jabbing at a hastily drawn trajectory. "At this rate, the debris field is unavoidable. If we don’t adjust the launch plan, those ships will be torn apart before they even clear orbit."

Faust clenched his jaw. "And if we stop, if we hesitate now, people will die before they even get the chance to leave."

The room fell silent.

Elysia stared at him, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "At least admit it," she said quietly. "Say it out loud."

Faust leaned back in his chair, staring past her. Then, without looking up, he muttered, "I’m busy."

Dismissed.

Elysia’s fingers curled into fists. For a moment, she just stood there, seething, then she turned sharply on her heel. At the door, she hesitated, glancing back.

"Think about it," she said coldly. Then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her.

Back in her office, Elysia rubbed her temples, exhaustion settling deep into her bones. The dim glow of her desk lamp cast long shadows across the cluttered papers and half-empty coffee cups, remnants of too many sleepless nights. She had no solutions. No one was listening.

A quiet knock at the door.

She exhaled, straightening slightly. "Come in."

The door eased open, and Zenovia stepped inside, her usual unreadable expression in place. Her dark eyes swept over her mother, as if assessing something unseen.

"You look terrible," Zenovia stated flatly.

Elysia let out a dry chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Glad to see your observational skills are still sharp."

Zenovia tilted her head slightly. "Dr. Faust didn’t listen, did he?"

Elysia sighed, leaning back in her chair. "No. And I don’t have an alternative to offer." She rubbed her eyes, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "I can prove I’m right, but proving it doesn’t matter if no one cares enough to act."

A brief silence stretched between them.

Then, in that same even tone, Zenovia said, "I might have an idea."

Elysia blinked, looking at her daughter with cautious curiosity.

Zenovia met her gaze without hesitation. "Gather the people who doubt the Mars project. The ones looking for another way."

Elysia frowned. "Zenovia, this isn’t a game. You can’t just—"

Before she could finish, the door swung open with dramatic force.

"There’s my favorite little genius!"

Dr. Minerva Blitz strode in like a whirlwind, her energy as chaotic as ever. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she immediately grabbed Zenovia by the wrist, dragging her toward the door with zero hesitation.

Zenovia barely reacted, her expression remaining as blank as ever. "Again?" she deadpanned.

Minerva waved off the monotone complaint. "Of course! We have so much to do, so many things to break— I mean, build! No time for brooding!"

Elysia pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling a headache forming. "Minerva, can’t you—"

"Nope! Borrowing her!" Minerva called back cheerfully.

Zenovia, still being unceremoniously hauled out of the room, turned her head slightly and locked eyes with her mother.

"I wasn’t finished talking," she said, her voice fading into the hallway.

Elysia sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples as the two disappeared down the corridor.

A moment later, she let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "At least someone around here has energy."

Her gaze drifted to the scattered notes on her desk, Zenovia’s words still lingering in her mind.

Gather the ones who doubt the Mars project. The ones looking for another way.

For the first time in days, Elysia considered the possibility that maybe—just maybe—there was still a way forward.

Zenovia, still being unceremoniously hauled down the hallway, glanced sideways at Minerva.

For a moment she contemplated whether to tell dr Blitz about the incident .she wanted to know if what she did was right.

"You know," she said flatly, "I told someone about the ticket locations and helped them escape from a gang."

Minerva nearly tripped over her own feet. She turned eyes wide with curiosity and amusement. "Wait—what?"

Zenovia shrugged. "There were orphans. They fought over tickets, lost them, got injured. I gave them a location to hide. Some of them made it to the hospital."

Minerva whistled, shaking her head. "Zenovia, Zenovia. Our little cryptic savior. Didn’t know you had it in you."

Zenovia didn’t respond, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. A memory. The bloodied, desperate faces of those kids. The way they clung to each other despite everything.

Minerva nudged her shoulder playfully. "You’re not going soft on me, are you?"

Zenovia’s expression remained unreadable. "I don’t think so."

Minerva smirked but didn’t press further. "Well, if you start developing a heart, let me know. I’d love to document the phenomenon."

Zenovia sighed, already regretting mentioning it.

That night, a small group gathered in a dimly lit conference room. Scientists, engineers, researchers—trusted minds who had already begun questioning the Mars project. The weight of uncertainty loomed over them as Elysia laid out her findings.

They listened. They believed her. They had their own doubts, and now, the meteor shower only confirmed their worst fears.

"But what do we do?" someone asked.

Elysia took a deep breath. "An underground bunker."

A murmur rippled through the room.

"It could work," someone muttered. "If we shield it properly, we might survive long enough to ride this out."

"But how the hell do we build something like that in time?" another challenged.

Elysia hesitated. She had no real answer.

Then, from the back of the room, a voice cut through the uncertainty.

"I have an idea."

All eyes turned toward Zenovia, standing near the door, her expression unreadable.

Silence thickened.