Action and Reaction

Chloe secured the final lug nut into place with one more twist of her wrench. She placed it back into her male parental unit's toolbox and stepped away to admire her handiwork. She walked around the model rocket, crafted from scraps and cuts of metal she had collected throughout the week from her father's shades of silver and gray on the body appealed to her as looking professional. She would have liked a splash of color on the fins and nose cone for added sleekness. While the exterior appeared simple, inside the rocket was a complex mesh of tubes, pumps, nuzzles, and wires, which she had spent hours carefully attaching, inserting, and connecting to make a superior model rocket compared to the flimsy, store-bought soda bottle rockets meant to entertain earthling children.

Crouching next to the toolbox, Chloe grabbed a plastic controller. It was rounded at the edges with a colorful selection of buttons in quadrants. An antenna wiggled from a thin socket on the right side. In the center was a joystick that she had deconstructed from a broken arcade machine in the basement of the town's youth center. The worn, rubbery grip was unsuited for her experiment, but she had to make do with what was presented in her surroundings. Earth lacked the proper tools, grafts, and materials that Cygnus A or Fath 703 would have provided, so the quiet swelling of pride in her chest for what she had created felt warranted.

If her calculations were correct, and she believed they were, then all she had to do was click the button in the center of the joystick. It would activate the electromagnetic function within the rocket, sending it launching through the sky. With her joystick and buttons, she would control the speed and aerodynamics of her rocket, which would supply her with crucial information regarding the dynamics of the planet's atmosphere and influence the design of her real rocket.

Anticipation shivered down her spine. The smile on her face felt permanent, and she imagined herself comfortable and cozy in her own spaceship. The imminent launch of her model allowed her to take one step closer to her goals. She had spent hours perfecting her prototype, and now, the moment of liftoff had finally arrived after days of concentration, perseverance, and hard work.

Holding her breath, Chloe tapped her thumb on the launch button.

Nothing happened.

She furrowed her brows. It should have risen the moment she pressed it. Right now, it should have been soaring near the roof of her humble, earthly abode. She cocked her head, puzzled by the lack of the electrical whirring and humming from within its metallic core.

She jiggled her joystick. She jabbed her finger into the other buttons. She smacked the side of her controller.

Still, her rocket remained as still as a statue and frustrated her to no end.

"What is wrong with this needling contraption?" she huffed, and she flicked her index finger against the tip of the antenna. "Earthling metals are-oh!"

As soon as her finger came in contact with the antenna, the rocket sprung to life, roaring, smoke erupting from the seams. Chloe dropped her controller, dumbfounded, and she could only stare as it shot up in the air. It carved a crescent path past her home and careened to the middle of the street, refusing directional inputs when she snapped down and snatched her controller. Her mouth flung open, unable to vocalize her shock while the rocket twisted and swerved between mailboxes and vehicles, coughing out of thick, black smog.

The cul-de-sac residents were unaware of the terror spewing outside. The sputtering, erratic rocket speared through front lawns, dashed over SUVs and Hondas, and made the neighborhood cats resting on porches lift their heads from their afternoon naps. Chloe raced after it, her tiny legs pumping along the pavement, and she frantically jostled the joystick, hoping to regain some control over her experiment, the earthlings too invested in their homely happenings to pay attention to the chaos outside.

Her rocket flipped in mid-air, nails and bolts falling out from sheared metal. It shuddered and whirred, its sharp tip aimed right for her head on the sidewalk. Yelping, she ducked into a neighbor's bush, squeezing her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable crash.

But it never came.

She slowly poked her head out. Once again, she gaped, witnessing the final moment before destruction.

Her rocket crashed into the Silva family's dog house, causing metal and wooden shrapnel to explode everywhere. Electrical wiring and dog treats mingled in the debris. Thick smoke rose up from the center of the impact, and the charred timber and burned patches of metal scattered across their rose bushes, small flames rising on the blades of freshly cut grass.

Chloe glanced between the wreckage and her controller. She pinched the antenna, lips pursing together. She released and watched it wiggle before uttering a quiet hum.

"It seems the magnet was not as powerful externally as it was internally, I think. There must be more factors to why it-" She paused her contemplation, hearing the doors of her neighbors' homes slamming around her, the shrill shriek of Mrs. Silva wailing like a mythical banshee in front of her. "But first, an apology is in order…"