How They Do It

In Summer Shelton's opinion, the effects of sugar water on Martian bacteria, after only three days, were astonishing.  Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she marked her observations in the system log book, as well as measurements of how much it had grown, consulting the notes on her handheld data pad, modeled after modern tablet computers, and optimized for use in space, including a rubber case to protect it from bumps, and to make it easier to handle.

The bacterial growth rate was incredible, though Summer wasn't sure if it was the refined sugar or the filtered water encouraging that growth.  She tapped open the monitor sidebar with her finger to add a note to harvest more of the bacteria for testing both of those separately, when something caught the corner of her eye, off to the left, where the icon representing her should have been a eight year-old picture of her in an afro, smiling for her ID photo.  She'd since gotten her hair twisted into locs, because they were easier for her to maintain, and they didn't shed nearly as much, an important thing when one wanted to be an astronaut.

Instead of the old photo of her in the little box, there was a picture of a fried chicken leg.

The ship had a crew of five, astonishingly large for a trip to Mars, even after the affectionately-nicknamed "impossible" EmDrive engine that got them there in a matter of weeks, rather than months, and without all the fuel usually necessary, but all members of the crew had been deemed necessary for the work being done.

Summer herself was a PH.D-level lab technician who'd been discovered when she'd made a crucial connection in something sent to the head of the lab, Meghashyam Parikh.  She'd been managing his inbox while he was away on a presentation tour, when he'd been sent something from NASA.

After taking a look at what was wanted, and remembering that missives from NASA took priority, she'd fulfilled the expectations of the request, sending them back to the team that had requested the information, and copying Meghashyam on what she'd done, so that he would know what she had sent out on his behalf, though the missive had clearly been marked.

She'd received a call at eleven that night, when Meghashyam frantically called to figure out how she had made that connection, because NASA thought it was him, wanting him to accompany a mission to Mars, and he had no idea what she'd done.  After months of hounding, he'd convinced her to go along, and convinced NASA they wanted her for the trip.  She still wasn't sure she appreciated that.

Besides Summer and Meghashyam, there was Sherwin Valencia, a genius aeronautical engineer who'd been angry to realize his changes to how NASA shuttles used human waste had been revolutionary, Bena Morton, a world-renowned geneticist who could actually make Meghashyam and Sherwin work together, and Erik House, who'd wanted a team put together, but had been unpleasantly surprised when him not putting the team together himself resulted in him being the only white person on it.

Summer knew that Erik was responsible for the change to her icon, just like when Meghashyam got a cow for his icon, Sherwin got a pineapple, or Bena got a dreamcatcher, it was always Erik.  He claimed he was joking, that it was in good fun, but it upset Summer.  Bena, too, but Meghashyam thought it was funny, and Sherwin tended to extract his revenge by means of shorting Erik's communicator, so it never really got addressed, though Summer was definitely beginning to reach the end of her patience with it.

She changed her icon back, sent Bena a frustrated message of complaint, and finished her notes.

By the time she was done, Bena had finished whatever work she'd been doing and come to join Summer, her long hair pulled back into its usual braided bun as she leaned against the console next to Summer, the sympathetic expression on her lined face going a long way towards soothing Summer's frustration.

She spent the next several minutes listening to Bena talk about her own work, because it was an excellent distraction, but their peace was eventually disturbed by Meghashyam and Erik, hooting about whatever they'd found, and Summer went to go find Sherwin, as he was bound to be seething about whatever had been inflicted on him as a result of the other men's findings.

In the quiet between the trio she'd left behind, and where she was heading, Summer heard the voice.  She'd heard voices before, usually the others over the comms, calling her to one place or another on the ship, but this voice was different.  Softer.  It reminded her of visiting her grandmother when it wasn't a holiday, and the house was empty, a weak voice that used to be strong, that still expected obedience when it commanded, but preferred using gentleness.  And it felt like the quiet spot in grandma's house during the holidays.

Naturally, Summer scrambled away from that foreign voice, futilely clutching her head and willing it away, as it assured her it meant no harm, and it was endangered, please help.  Voices should not have been in her head, she didn't want them, no.  Then the ship's alarms went off, collision alert, and for a bit, everything went crazy as everyone tried to figure out where the collision was coming from,how to get away with it, where was mission control, and more.

By the time the metaphorical dust cleared, the five humans, ship and all, were aboard another, larger ship the size of a state, surrounding by multicolored alien horses with sharp hooves and sharper teeth, trying their best to handle their new circumstances, and failing pretty spectacularly.  There were aliens, they could read minds, and the didn't like what they were learning about their galactic neighbors.