Ama Kit Xmas Gift - 12_2020

When Calaway heard that final shriek, the drowning sound of straining metal, he’d thought he
had been wrong. That for once his crazy ideas hadn’t worked. But then it halted, suddenly after
only a few moments of noise, and with a loud popping sound, he knew they were out. (Out of
what exactly he didn’t know, but this didn’t stop his later elation) For a moment, there was
silence, anticipation mixed with hope. Then, the rockets shut off, and a blaring red alarm startled
them all out of their stupor. Wide-eyed, the upper maintenance quickly worked on getting the
alarm shut off, and with their advice the pilots switched back to the ramscoop. Finally, they
moved smoothly, measuring at about 6,000,000 km/h, and after a minute of this, the crew
erupted into cheers. Grinning, Calaway flew up to the stage.
Before he could even open his mouth, however, he was hailed in applause. “Our lives to the
quick-thinking captain!” Someone cried, and the crowd echoed it. “And to science fiction!” This
was uttered a little less enthusiastically. Calaway, for one, had never felt more pride in his life.
It took the ship one and a half hours more to reach Earth, and when the homing monitor beeped it
would have been a moment of triumph had it been any other ship in any other circumstance. But
the windows - being not real windows but screens projecting an image taken from the ship’s
cameras - were dark, and so no one was able to watch triumphantly as their blue planet
approached. The only sign was that single beep, and the red text floating across the pilots’
visions as the ship’s tracking recommended the appropriate course to return to the home landing.
(They followed this course, certainly, for without cameras they had only this to guide their
otherwise blind track) As such, Patrick Calaway did not know when his true success - getting all
of his people back on-planet - had really been solidified, a fact that would later grieve him
despite the great applause he had previously received. Blind as his ship, the captain only stared at
the black windows, occasionally lifting the speaker to make reassurances to his passengers.
There had been some very bad riots before, but it seemed with an explanation and the promise of
a 50% refund (something Calaway had fought bitterly but knew was the only way to avoid a
lawsuit or such) most had calmed and returned to their cabins or the diner to wait out the
remaining length of the trip.
But of all things, Calaway looked out his window not in happiness to be returning home, nor
even in relief for having escaped space’s determination to see him dead. His eyes, staring
uselessly into the blackness and only dimly noting the movement of his crew and the
announcement that all passengers and crew sit for landing, held a look of shame in them, shame
and anger. For even though in the end it had been ​him​ to save the day, that had barely saved a
shred of his dignity. This trip - his grand idea, the thing that was supposed to make him rich and
famous - was a failure. ​He​ was a failure. Bitterly, Calaway thought of how snide Wateen and all
the rest of his critics would laugh, yell to the hills of the wreck his trip had become. He must try
this again. Get scientists to figure out what could’ve ruined the endeavor and go again. Of
course, it wouldn’t be as glamorous, fewer people would want to come, but, if he could find the
threat and neutralize it, he could still save this. He clenched his fist. History would still see him