The New Sun Also Rises

“Back in my day, the Sun was the center of the universe. There were plants and trees and animals that yawned each dawn and stretched luxuriously toward that glorious orb,” I said.

“Oh grandma, I’ve heard this one before!” my youngest protested, perched on my lap. But she snuggled closer, which in the unspoken language between grandparents and grandchildren, meant that she wanted to hear more. Her tiny feet dangled and swung absently with the total trust that comes from knowing you are loved and loved well.

How could she be expected to understand at such a young age what had happened, what she was missing out on? But it was vital for her to know, for this newest generation to keep the memory alive. So I continued.

“There were seven continents and five oceans.

There were countless islands scattered across the seas.

The plains of the world were vast and ripe for discovery.

A day was 24 hours.

The seasons lasted for months at a time.

And time was an adamant truth.

Rain and snow and sleet fell unbounded from the heavens.

There were acres upon acres of crops that grew across the land.

They nourished the people.

Millions of types of plants and animals thrived.

Birds flew through the air.

Fish swam in the sea.

Beasts roamed the land.

Gravity held our feet to the ground.

Oxygen filled our lungs unbidden.

The moon waxed and waned.

It compelled the tides.

You could be outside.

You could feel the warmth of the Sun on your face for hours at a time.”

We knew it was coming. We had known for a while. For centuries. So all of humanity had prepared. Our collective survival had depended on it.

“But what happened to the Sun, Grandma?”

“Well, my love, that’s the sad part of the story. You see, as with all things that burn so brightly, they eventually flicker and die out. Our beloved Sun was to be no exception.”

Despite eons of discourse, our greatest scientists and theologians at long last joined forces, and through the coupling of God-given talent and divine intervention, humanity found a way to survive.

“We created a new sun, and we put it into orbit. We saved not just our beloved Earth but our entire galaxy: the vast Milky Way, the planets, and the stars within.

But what we did was not without its price, my love.”

Innumerable souls had given their lives up to the cause. And I had played my part as the ultimate executioner in the crusade. I had sent them to their deaths toward that final frontier of salvation.

I peered down into those green eyes so like my own yet so dissimilar in their fathomless innocence. I began to rock the two of us slowly back and forth as though the comforting motion could somehow cushion the blow of the devastation that still shook me to my core.

“The icecaps melted.

The tiny islands were all swallowed up by the sea.

The rivers flooded the land.

Only two continents remain.

We lost countless plants and animals.

Birds no longer fly across the sky.

Fish no longer swim in the seas.

Beasts no longer roam the land.

There are only eight hours in a day.

What was once a year is a mere blink.

The moon is just a memory.

The tides are no longer.

Radiation waves are the only things that cascade from the skies.

The seasons come and go at will.

We need to wear special suits just to go outside.

We cannot feel the warmth of the Sun on our faces.

And the comfort generated by our new sun is a mere flicker of what once was.

But we’re still here.”

I squeezed the evidence that was nestled in my arms tighter as though to make sure. To remind myself that it had all been worth it. That what was saved made up for all that was sacrificed.

They had been placed on each ship’s manifest to reach their destiny among the black expanse. But it had been for the greater good. And that is how I slept at night with their young, hopeful faces flashing one after another in my mind: scientists and adventurers and engineers. Because without them, and without me ringing their death knells, no good would have ever been known again. Lesser or greater.

“And we found a way to stay tethered to our planet’s surface.

We established our footing and our balance.

We adjusted our waking hours.

Time is measured time differently, but we learned the value of every moment.

We saved as many living things as we could.

We can still cultivate crops and raise livestock.

We behold the vastness of the sky and maintain the humility to feel small.

We wish upon the stars and pray to the heavens.”

Some days, a prayer was all that I had to hold onto as I sought to atone for my sins, for every mission that ended in disaster with my name attached to it as Sovereign. I never stopped looking up at the heavens, whether it was in invocation or vocation.

“We make the best of this life and dream of a better future.

We laugh and play together.

We create families and know love.

We joined together against a common threat and marvel at what we have accomplished.

We know it couldn’t have been done alone. So we know we are not alone.

We opened our arms to those in need.

We saved humanity and somehow kept ours in the process.

Our new sun burns, and it burns strong.

And here we are. We have survived, and we have persevered.”

I looked out the portal window to watch the sun go down on another short day that my aged body would never adjust to. The rays were still a harsh spectacle even in the twilight. They glared off the greenhouse, and it was a beautiful sight to behold. Not at face value but for what it represented. It was stunning in its severe depiction of what life looked like now. That there still was life.

“Our new sun gives us the only world that you have ever known and will ever know. So I love it in my own way.”

And I would hate it in my own way too. My own internal flame was on its last legs. I had lived, and I had burned brightly. I would hold onto my own spark as long as I could and would continue to tell the story. I would do it for her and for all the little ones who shared my legacy.

I felt the comfortable weight in my arms go slack and hugged her closer to my chest. Pressing my lips to her short curly hair, I murmured to the slumbering form, “Despite it all. Despite all we have lost, I love our new Sun best of all because it gave me you. Always remember my dear that you are the center of my universe. ”