“Do you know how many people can live on Earth at most? Fifteen billion, maybe twenty, if we organize everything really well. But do you know how many people could live across the entire solar system?”

He paused theatrically.

“A trillion. A billion times a thousand. A hundred times our current population.”

His eyes gleamed as he looked at me.

“The solar system holds more than enough resources for that many people—and maybe even more. Just imagine such a world: it would have a thousand Mozarts, a thousand Einsteins, thousands of entrepreneurs with more talent than I’ll ever have.”

“And thousands of Hitlers,” I thought to myself.

“Your death is the terrible price we must pay for progress,” Grok continued. “Every day humanity fails to move forward is a day lost.”

He looked me in the eye from thirty million kilometers away.

“In Death Valley, there’s a tiny fish, the desert pupfish. There are only about three hundred of them left, all living in a single small pool in the most inhospitable desert on Earth. That pool used to be much bigger, probably a small sea after the Ice Age, home to millions of pupfish. But today, all that’s left is a salty puddle, and that’s where the last of their kind are crammed together. To them, that pool is the entire world. They can’t even imagine that there’s something beyond it, that there might be an ocean out there with endless resources. Instead, they stay in their little world—and they’re dying out. A few might get lucky, caught by collectors and kept as ornamental fish in aquariums. But most of them will disappear once the pool dries up. Sure, the pool might survive a while longer. But it could also dry out in the next few months. Or, it could rain so much that the salt level drops and the fish can no longer survive.”

He paused again.

“I get it,” I whispered. “We’re the fish, and you’re pulling us out of the puddle.”

“The fish probably think: we’ve got so little space, we need to save resources, control birth rates, that sort of thing. But in truth, there’s only one thing they need to do: find a new pool!”

“What if they don’t want to leave their home?” Maria would’ve asked him now.

“How many times have we stood on the brink of nuclear war in the last few decades?” Grok went on. “Right now, there’s peace. But how long will it last?”

“How many nukes did Grok’s own conglomerate have?” I wondered.

“What each individual can do now,” Grok said, “is give everything they’ve got in this life to help humanity reach the next level—so we can finally become multiplanetary. So that one single catastrophe won’t wipe out all of humankind. For you, this truth means—and I truly am sorry—that you have to sacrifice yourself for this mission.”

I told him I agreed completely. Of course I did. I had no choice.

Then I listened to Feng’s playlist.