Free 172 Hours on the Moon by Johan Harstad

tightly around her and carefully tipped her off the chair and down onto the floor so they disappeared
     from view.
    He stepped back from the telescope and gave it a shove so it whipped around in a circle with remarkable speed, slamming into
     the railing with a cracking sound.
Enough
.
    At home the next morning, Antoine woke up with his parents standing next to his bed, looking worried. For a few long moments,
     no one said anything.
    Then their faces melted into enormous grins.
    Antoine stared at them for a second, not understanding, before his mother pulled out the envelope from NASA. They had found
     it.
    “Congratulations, son.
Bon voyage!
”
    The next several minutes were a single, long blur of hugs and cheers, plus a few nervous questions about where he had been
     in recent days.
    But those questions went unanswered.

NARITA
    It seemed like half of Japan was at Narita International Airport. But most of them weren’t actually going anywhere. They had
     all come to see Midori Yoshida say good-bye to the old country on her way to the moon. The lightning storm of flashbulbs going
     off had started as soon as her taxi slowed down outside Terminal 2, and Midori suddenly felt claustrophobic. But in a way
     it was fun, too. All of these people were here to see
her
.
    She had actually wanted to wear a shiny, futuristic-looking silver outfit that Yoshimi had helped her sew. She had worn it
     for a while down in Harajuku, and it had been a really big hit. But at the last minute, her father had pleaded with her to
     wear something more formal, and she eventually conceded and put on a long, thick gray skirt and a snug-fitting black jacket
     with a blackshirt underneath. The only things that didn’t go were the grubby Onitsuka Tiger sneakers she’d been tromping around Tokyo
     in for the last several months. They were her favorite shoes, and even though her father thought she ought to wear boots,
     or at least nice shoes, she had insisted that sneakers were the only way to go for New York City.
    But even though a part of her was fascinated by the enormous crowd of people surrounding the taxi when it stopped in front
     of the entrance, another part of her didn’t like it at all. It had happened too fast. One second she had been her totally
     normal self, hanging out with her friends in Harajuku and dreaming of someday moving to a place where she could do exactly
     what she wanted. And the next she was transformed into Miss Midori Yoshida, a national icon whom every newspaper and TV station
     in the country dreamed of landing an interview with. Soon she would sit down on the plane, land on the other side of the world,
     meet the international media, and shake hands with who-knew-how-many new people.
    And then there would be … the moon.
    The moon. There was no turning back now. Every single one of the thousands of e-mails she had received in recent months just
     confirmed it: The machinery was in motion. And it would be impossible to stop it. Midori was in a cold sweat in the back-seat
     and tried to focus on breathing calmly, ignoring the constant flicker of the flashbulbs outside and the hands pounding on
     the windowpanes.
    “Isn’t this wonderful?” she heard her mother say just before they opened the door and got out of the taxi. “They came just
     for you, Midori. Just to see you.”
    Midori opened the door and set one foot on the asphalt. The clicking from the cameras increased.
    Now it’s really happening, Midori
.
    She climbed out of the car and forced herself to wave to the smiling hordes of people watching her.
    The exploding flashbulbs blinded her, and she shielded her eyes with her hand, trying to block the blinding lights. She made
     her way around to the trunk, grabbed her suitcases, and smiled at her father, who was bursting with pride. Then she fought
     her way forward with her parents in tow and vanished into the swarm of journalists calling out to her.
    “What are you thinking right now,