“W–what?!”

  All three of them shouted together, as if they had never heard that word in their lives.

  “A wormhole!” Steve yelled.

  Tony’s voice trembled. “But… those only exist in science fiction. At least that’s what I thought.”

  The AI replied calmly, “Yes, they exist in science fiction—but science fiction also comes from science.”

  Neil, surprisingly calm, said, “Okay. Don’t waste our time then. We’re going there.”

  The other two nodded in agreement and signaled the AI to prepare the launch.

  But the AI interrupted, “First, understand what you’re going to face, humans.”

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  Its robotic voice echoed through the room.

  “There is only a 9 percent chance you will find a wormhole to the Moon. And even if you do, your survival rate remains low.”

  The three exchanged nervous glances.

  The AI continued, “Wormholes are of two types: Compost Hole and Roseworm.

  If you find a Compost Hole, you will reach the Moon in 8 days… which equals 44 million years passing on Earth.”

  They froze.

  “But if you are lucky enough to find a Roseworm”—the AI paused—“then not even God can stop you. A Roseworm reverses the thoughts of a living organism. Meaning: if you think about the mysterious threat coming toward Earth, it will never arrive.”

  Tony straightened his back. “So we just need to find the Roseworm,” he said, trying to sound heroic.

  Neil raised a doubt, “And what if we find nothing?”

  The AI’s voice dropped.

  “Then prepare to witness the end of humanity. And remember… there is no guarantee these wormholes even exist. But we must believe in science.”

  Steve whispered, half in fear, half in thought, “Wormholes feel more paranormal than scientific.”

  The AI made a sound like clearing its throat.

  “I will also travel with you and guide you. Consider me your teacher.”

  The three men looked at each other, then joined hands.

  With confident grins, they shouted together,

  “We’re gonna taste the Moon’s dust!”