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Perihelion looks at the van.
It's smaller than it had seemed in the schematics.
Maybe it just looks that way because of the outfitting. There's a lot going on in there; Perihelion has read all of the papers leading up to this.
It does the math. US Naval Academy: 52. US Airforce Academy: 36… University of Mihira and New Tideland: 0.
Statistically, Perihelion's degree is unlikely to result in a position out in the greater void.
Statistically, Perihelion's year-long trip could probably be better spent taking classes and trying to get into MIT (34), Stanford (21), or Purdue (20), for its Master's or Doctorate.
Statistics can fuck themselves. MIT wouldn't leave enough money in the family for Iris' degree. Perihelion has spent its entire life disobeying expectations.
Besides. Research. That's the heart of knowledge. It doesn't matter whose bronze statue you kiss the ass of during finals week. What matters is getting your hands in the dirt.
Or at least Perihelion is going to pretend the plastic tub nailed to the side of the shower is full of dirt. At least it already has something growing there; Perihelion doesn't expect to starve the first week.
Perihelion gives its family a less-than-standard salute.
"Drive safe," Seth says.
"I do not intend to drive," Perihelion says.
"Don't die of your own farts," Iris says.
"The air is regulated, that's why the windows don't open," Perihelion says, "Also fuck you."
Perihelion gets in the van and. Okay maybe it is small. But at least this wont be like that time Iris spent three hours kicking Peri's laptop bag when they went to Florida. Peri is not small - statistically it should expect to shrink in space anyways. It wonders if that would make a difference.
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FIELD REPORT 0.1 - Perihelion
All systems appear to be functional. I have not died despite the lack of incoming oxygen, so that's good. Looking at the edible options the school of Food Sciences provided me, I am already glad I decided to spend my personal weight allocations on flavoring spices.
As any good astronaut, I intend to use my downtime for additional research. I've already secured access to a database on the mass and movements of planetary bodies in the TOI 451 system.
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Four months into the experiment, Peri has scratch marks on its arms from fidgeting. It has dented the roof of the van from kicking it so many times. Most of the plants have died; just potatoes remain (Peri left some harsh criticism in its field report for a few weeks straight on that).
Yes it has managed to get across the country and back. Several times. Hit every state. Fixed every part of the van and improved them all several times (except the food. Peri doesn't know shit about the food. And it would need seeds or something anyways, right?). Spent a week parked outside of a McDonalds fighting the temptation to break the seals of the experiment.
Every moment has been logged and Peri has already drafted 26 pages for the final paper on the survival of astronauts and the reliance on and responsibilities of the scientists and engineers behind it all. Specifically it has compiled data on the privatization of space and the potential dangers of companies like SpaceX who prioritize finances over pure science.
But still.
It is. Bored.
It's really not much different from what Peri used to do before the research project. Perihelion has spent hours comparing the differences. Was it truly so beneficial to Peri's focus to have Iris kick open its door and pelt it with Nerf darts when it was trying to analyze the chemicals in their basement's wall paint?
It checks the surveillance cameras again. The sketchy motel was still empty - Peri was sure it was going to find something going on eventually with how cheap the place looked. Camera 2 had trees. Camera 3's streetlight looked like it was about to go out. Camera 4-
Hang on.
Was that a person?
Perihelion sat up and adjusted the camera's settings to get a better look.
Oh yeah that's a person.
A person headed for a sketchy van in the middle of a sketchy motel parking lot. Peri's sketchy van in a sketchy motel parking lot.
Option 1: Ignore the visitor probably looking for a drug deal.
Option 2: Fuck with them a bit. Maybe pretend to be the FBI?
Option 3: Okay but what if your space ship was approached by aliens - does NASA have a protocol for-
The knocks on the van are actually kinda loud with all of the shit that gets pushed around. "Hey uh. Can you get me to the Ravi Hotel downtown? I've got uh - a VHS tape of Sneakers you can have." Peri sees the person digging around in a worn-out backpack.
Perihelion grins and takes a deep breath. "YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO APPROACH A FEDERAL VEHICLE. INTERFERING WITH AN ACTIVE INVESTIGATION HAS A TEN YEAR SENTENCE."
The person does drop the bag and step back a bit. Peri is downright giddy as it shoves its limbs into the emergency gear and pulls on the helmet.
Peri opens the side door with one quick motion, grabs the person and their bag and tosses them into the van with one quick motion. The door is closed and Peri watches the clock for repressurization.
"What the fuck-what the fuck. What the fuck." the person says. The guest kicks Perihelion; it slams back against the doors. Peri pulls off the helmet to begin the explanation.
The guest does not care. Peri isn't quite sure what happens, but it ends with a bloody nose and the guest saying "you fucking asshole-what's wrong with you?"
This is fine. Alien communication was never expected to go well. "I'll take you to Ravi Hotel," Peri says. Pertinent, simple knowledge. The clearest type of communication.
They stare at each other for a long moment, which Perihelion's UTC clock indicates was objectively ten seconds.
"Okay but. What the fuck."
Peri sits up and says "I'm an astronaut. Had to minimize exposure; I don't have enough oxygen to last forever."
There is more staring.
Peri clarifies: "I'm doing research. For the University of Mihira and New Tideland. My name is Perihelion. The tag on the inside of your bag said you were named 'Murderb-'"
"No. Shut up," the guest says.
"Okay," Peri says. "So about that VHS tape."