As he stepped into the mechanical sphere, the athletic, clean cut man in the NASA suit adjusted his helmet over his head. Had he watched the latest Star Wars movie, he couldn't have helped feeling a little like Darth Vader when the upper part of the open sphere began descending on the seat he now occupied. But no, this man wouldn't be able to tell Darth Vader from Barney the dinosaur. He had no time for silly diversions of any kind.
A group of bald and balding men in lab coats, most of them wearing glasses and a few using tags including the name "Harold", watched the man through a thick layer of unbreakable glass, as they crowded in front of a control panel full of so many buttons and switches I wouldn't know where to start describing them.
"Now, remember John," the scientiest of all the scientists spoke into a microphone that came out of the control panel like a silver phallus, "you'll only be over there for a couple of minutes, but there's a chance that when you come back several years will have passed over here. Don't worry: even if there's a nuclear catastrophe, this place will still be here to put your atoms back together. Ah, and don't be surprised if you don't recognize any of the faces staring at you from up here... There's a chance that all of us will be long dead by the time you return."
"What, you think it may take as long as two weeks?" John would have said if he had a sense of humour, but he didn't, so he didn't. He didn't even joke about having been told the same thing dozens of times since he was assigned to this mission. He simply nodded in acknowledgement and let out a dull "Understood."
"Ready to meet Mars, John?"
"I suppose," John replied, and afterwards he didn't even wish he had thought of something like 'I was born ready'. He simply didn't know any better.
Buttons were pushed, levers pulled, countdowns started and finished... long story short, the mechanical sphere began humming and vibrating, and after a short show of lights... Major John R. Blank was gone. The sound and the vibrations slowly died down.
"And now, gentlemen..." the scientist said as he sat back with satisfaction, "we wait."
"The best we can hope for, for now, is receiving any signals from him in a couple of hours," one of the Harolds added, as the bald crowd started dispersing. The show was over, now they had to go back to their respective labs and offices to resume watching Grey's Anathomy.
"WAIT!" Bill, the shortest of the scientists, yelled as he dramatically pointed at the mechanical sphere behind the glass. It was starting to move again.
"This is most peculiar..." our main scientist worriedly commented. "Our best hope was that he would return within a week... but the chances of that were incredibly slim!"
"Do you think something went wrong?"
"We'll find out soon enough..."
The humming and vibrating returned, harder than before. The scientists held on to the nearest solid object as the floor below them started moving.
"The machine isn't prepared for so much uninterrupted activity!" Harold 2 yelled above the growing sound of clanking metal. "We always assumed we would have time to adjust it before the second trip!"
Like your mother always said, 'once smoke starts coming out of it, you should start worrying'. Since the scientists were already worried, the smoke that quickly clouded their vision of the sphere freaked them out instead.
And then it stopped. The general consensus in the room was that they weren't sure if they should be relieved that the sphere wasn't destroyed in the process, or even more freaked out about what would happen when it opened.
The smoke hadn't completely cleared when the upper part of the sphere began ascending, releasing darker, thicker clouds of smoke from inside.
"John? Are you there?" The scientist paused. "Is... anyone there?"
Something stood inside the sphere. The observers quickly recognized the shape of a male human being, which relieved most of them. The rest of the scientists, however, became even more worried... noticing that the person inside the sphere was clearly not wearing an astronaut suit.
"John?" the scientist asked.
Everyone watched with suspense as a black iron boot stepped out of the sphere. The legs that came out of the smoke, covered by a half torn gray latex body suit, were followed by a patched belt full of little metallic compartments, hanging on the right because of the weight of what looked like a gun Flash Gordon would use. As the body became visible, the combination of clothes and gadgets became even more unlikely with the addition of a stitched, faded black leather-like jacket over a continuation of the torn gray body suit. The scientists were finally able to see the man's face, only to find it covered by messy long hair and a beard that would take at least a year to grow.
"JOHN!" the scientist exclaimed, recognizing the face under all the hair and a couple of scars.
"The name's JOHNNY FUCK..." he replied in a raspy voice, reaching for his back and grabbing the katana hidden in his jacket "...and you, my friends, have just doomed this planet."
